#i submitted that two whole years ago now wow

[newspecies]

DECAY JUMPSCARE?

(from Team Pokekipe by Eevee33 on Sheezy)

i know i submitted my oc for a cameo but i thought they forgot....... good lerd. its in there

[dbgdbw]

245.Alpha’s Recollection (1)

알파의 기억 (1)

The helicopter touched down at a location far removed from us, rather than coming near our vicinity. It appeared that, having witnessed the aftereffects of the battle, drawing closer had been deemed too dangerous. It wasn’t a scene that I’d necessarily want to approach, either.

“Yoohyun-ah, are you okay?

After going to the pains of dressing him with a potion, he’d gotten wounded again. He hadn’t sustained any significant injury, but he was unable to conceal his fatigued state. Since he’d ended up trading blows with an SS-rank Guard immediately after his release, much less after resting deeply for a few days, it would’ve been stranger if he’d been okay.

“If it’d gone on for a little longer, I could’ve taken him down for sure.”

Yoohyunie said in a faintly petulant tone, even as he obediently submitted himself to my care.

“Since he’d been poisoned, it’s true that you’d’ve gained the upper hand as time went by, but you’re not in great condition, either, you know. With a slip, you could’ve gotten seriously injured, too.”

“That’s true, but after clashing up close a few times.”

Lowering his voice, Yoohyunie resumed speaking.

“Looks like he’s got little combat experience. He’s easier than the Seseung guild leader.”

“Huh? Experience? But Sigma should’ve Awakened far earlier?”

He’d said that he’d been instated as Solemnis’s Sigma five years ago, too.

“You’re talking about person-to-person combat, right?”

Moon Hyuna suddenly cut in.

“Since, logistically, there’s little to no reason he would’ve fought with high-rank Guards, and a fellow SS-rank one at that, especially. It would’ve just been monsters, that he’d be used to fighting. Though he seems fairly capable, considering.”

That was likely owing to his battle foresight. In a number of ways, it really was a scam of a Skill. Upon learning about his inexperience, it felt as though the gap between Sigma and Sung Hyunjae as individuals had widened even further. They really were different people, then.

“And now that I think about it, the young master wouldn’t have been able to gather many points, huh. I, for one, managed to stockpile a decent amount. There’s a lot of nice options in the reward store, it looked like.”

Moon Hyuna said, her expression eager. If there weren't any pressing matters outside, it would’ve been nice to be able to take our time installing the disks and making our way out, she mentioned. That, while the opportunity was present, she’d like to snag at least one piece of SS-rank equipment or so.

“Since you’d managed to eliminate two whole SS-rank monsters a moment ago, you would’ve surpassed two million points, I imagine.”

“Hm? Nah. Since it gives around fifty to sixty thousand per SS-rank, it’d be around one million.”

“...come again?”

But I’d gotten over a million? But then, Yoohyunie mentioned that he’d only received around four hundred thousand or so for eliminating the serpent as well. How could this be, when that time I’d had to team up with Sigma, I’d still gotten over a million each and… ah.

‘The Miracle Rookie title!’

It was a title that doubled the Item rewards received from a Dungeon. But over here, Dungeons didn’t exist, and the monsters popped out directly–so it seemed, as a result, it had been altered to give double the amount of points instead. Then, it meant that the original amount of points you got for hunting an SS-rank monster was about five to six hundred thousand.

‘Since I have the doubled drop rate effect applied, and since Sigma’s a denizen of this world who’s unable to receive points, and that means that, because all of the points would go to me, then…….’

A million per head. Was that how it was! With twofold the points received, and with the vast array of selection my Point Store offered……. Wow, this, this–.

‘Going hunting with Sigma would mean that I could claim a monopoly on twice the amount of points!’

My heart felt slightly aflutter. It’d been said that there were loads of monsters outside of the cities, and I wanted to sweep them clear with dear Mister Sigma. If I were to just toss in a bomb to make a scratch or so, and Sigma took care of the rest, then the points would balloon up like a bag of popcorn.

“Sigma-ssi, are you quite alright!”

No need for any more or less, couldn’t you just grant me an allowance of three days’ time. I even had that lure Item, on top of that. If I could draw in all of the monsters from the surroundings, and then we took them all out in one go… Ah, the corners of my mouth kept creeping up. I could gather around a hundred million points within three days, and issue all the kids an SS-rank piece of equipment each! And Skills! As well as useful miscellaneous Items!

“Would you like my assistance with detoxification, sir? As you’re aware, my poison resis–”

“Hyung, what’re you doing.”

As I made to approach Sigma, Yoohyunie caught hold of me. Yoohyun-ah, hyung is doing all of this for your sake.

“Since it’d be a shame to waste a detox Item, we should pacify him and finish out that contract.”

“Can’t we just kill him? Hunter Moon Hyuna’s here, too.”

“He’s not that bad of a person.”

Even when I reassured him that it was alright, my dongsaeng didn’t appear to be convinced. Considering how he’d attacked him without prelude–while demanding my corpse, no less–it was certainly reasonable, but, well. Even then, dongsaeng-ah, that guy still holds a lot of potential use for us.

“Goodness, you’re looking quite unwell, sir. A healer from Lanchaea should be along shortly. Until then, would you like me to at least hold your hand, sir?”

Sigma, who had been treating the burns littered on his person with a potion, looked down at me with a cold gaze. The equipment he was wearing looked like they would’ve been of good quality, but now they were largely ruined. In particular, enough of the top he was wearing had been burned away that I worried over its salvageability. If it happened to be SS-grade, it would be a real shame.

“And what new ploy might this be, then?”

“‘Ploy’, how uncharitable. And just when have I ever treated you badly, sir? Compared to your treatment, from start to finish, I’ve been the embodiment of hospitality itself. Let’s do this the easy way, alright, with just a tiny tweak to the contract, sir.”

“I don’t see why any modifications would be necessary. You can see it through here, can’t you.”

“It’s a sensitive matter, sir, as I’d said. I’d like to take the time to resolve Sigma-ssi’s curiosity off to the side, discreetly. Don’t scowl at me, sir. Are you upset, perhaps? Seeing as how you’re only days away from forty, you shouldn’t behave so narrow-mindedly, sir.”

At my words, Sigma’s expression became further disgruntled.

“Do I really look so old, truly.”

“That’s, at least your exteri… Hold on.”

Now that I thought about it, this guy, how old was he. I’d offhandedly assumed that he’d be the same age as Sung Hyunjae, but just like Moon Hyuna had mentioned, he did seem to be a bit younger, maybe. It was just that his default expression was so stiff–if it loosened up like a certain nugu-ssi, it seemed like he might look fairly young, after all.

“...that’s, you’re over thirty at least, right, sir?”

There was no answer. Wait, just hold the fuck up. There was no way.

“...twenties? For real?”

“That’s what most assume, typically.”

Sigma said, as though I was the outlier for being so surprised. Uh, that’s, of course he had a smooth, young-looking face, but. Wow, fucking–twenties. Was this for real.

“That means I’m the hyung!”

“...what?”

“I’m in my thirties!”

Hardly possible, Sigma mumbled. Yoohyunie, who had been draped against my side, looked at me with rounded eyes.

“Hyung’s age is.”

“Yoohyun-ah, how many years older is hyung than you?”

“Five years.”

“And how old are you right now?”

“Twenty–”

“Twenty-five, right. So, I’m currently thirty-one(1). Refer to me as ‘hyung’, Sigma.”

Pfft, Moon Hyuna, who had been engaged in the proceedings with great amusement, was unable to contain herself and eventually burst out laughing. Conversely, both Sigma and Yoohyunie’s expressions had dropped into deep scowls. Ah, whatever, don’t do it if you don’t want to. Though I really was in my thirties, on the inside. That this guy who wore Sung Hyunjae’s face was younger than me, wasn’t such a bad feeling.

Yeah, since the environment was like this, it wasn’t too shocking that this brat had grown up to be a bit rough around the edges.

“We should begin by modifying the contract, sir. Let’s see, since we’ll each need a period of respite, how’s about meeting up separately sometime tomorrow afternoon to talk. That’s fine, isn’t it? You have to listen properly, without running away like earlier–and in exchange for answering three additional questions on top of the intelligence, Alpha gets completely removed from the conditions. Since you ought to have a lot you'd like to ask after, just go along with it, Sigma-ssi, sir.”(2)

If things went smoothly enough, I could possibly sucker him into doing some monster hunting, too, while I was at it. My beloved Point Mule-nim(3). I’ll treat you nicely enough, so give me just three days of your time.

After staring at me for a moment, Sigma agreed to the amendment of the terms of the contract. It was at that time Lanchaea’s Healer and Guards arrived, in addition to Solemnis’s Guards. Eyeing us warily, the Solemnis Guards collected their own numbers. The gazes shot my way were particularly hostile.

I might’ve caused a handful of problems, but I’m not a bad guy, really.

By the time we’d returned to the Achates Defense Administration building, a lot of the chaotic atmosphere had already been seen to.

Most of the high-ranking officials and Guards of the Defense Administration had been taken into custody. Of the five S-ranked Guards, Vitera’s unnie had been captured after sustaining a serious injury in the fight with her dongsaeng. One of the remaining four had been caught by Lanchaea’s Guards, but the whereabouts of the other three were unknown. Though an arrest warrant would likely be issued, once day broke, it was highly likely that they had already fled outside of the city.

“As our S-rank Guards number higher, they shouldn’t be able to try anything lightly.”

Vitera said, smiling. It seemed that she’d been unaware of Gnosi’s intentions to kill me. Gnosi, as well as the Guards that had accompanied him, had yet to regain consciousness. We’d have to resolve that misunderstanding, once they were awake.

“We’d only been intending to monitor the situation, due to Alpha’s presence, so it was quite unexpected to have things worked out this well.”

As many as four S-rank Guards numbered among the resistance force members that had ended up finding asylum in Lanchaea. Including Vitera, it made five. Though it was no small number, it was only half of what made up the Defence Administration’s ranks, and with the SS-rank Alpha to consider as well, it had been impossible to do anything other than extricate the children, until now.

The possibility of a child with the potential of an SS-rank appearing some day–saying that they’d been pinning all their hopes on something like that happening, she expressed her thanks to me. Confronted with those words, I felt an unavoidable sense of frustration. In reality, this world had… Trying not to dwell too deeply on it, I provided an adequate response and left.

It seemed as though Moon Hyuna had something to tell me as well, but using tiredness as an excuse, I headed up towards the private living quarters with Yoohyunie. And I really was tired, in truth. Since I hadn’t been able to rest properly, all the while.

“Don’t think about anything and just rest, Yoohyun-ah.”

Blithely ignoring the pointed glares the Lanchaean Guards shot at me, I took occupancy of one of the only two rooms on the uppermost floor. Ah, so what. Our Yoohyunie is an SS-rank Guard, you know. And this is Achates, here. Shouldnt the person who deserved to receive the best treatment be my dongsaeng, all things considered. I wanted to take the Achates Defense Association to court, honestly.

“You should have something to eat, first. Wait just a bit, I’ll tell them to prepare a meal right away.”

“...don’t feel like eating.”

“Hm? Why? You’re not hungry?”

It occurred to me, as the words were leaving my mouth. Since the ordinary personnel, including the kitchen staff, would have still remained the same, he might be feeling trepidation, due to that. Since it would cause complications to let the Defense Association grind to a complete stop, it wasn’t possible to do a complete overhaul of the staff at once. But, even so, I still needed to feed him.

“It seemed as though there’s a kitchen here. Even if it’s something simple, hyung will make you some rice porridge at least. Go wash up. Should I at least come shampoo your hair for you, since it’s been a while?”

“Hyung’s probably tired too.”

“Thanks to gaining those C-rank stats, even if I’m a little tired, it’s still leaps and bounds better than me in good condition at F-rank. Ah, it’d be nice if I could maintain these stats even when we go back.”

With a smile, I ushered my dongsaeng into the washroom. If I really could return with my stats intact, it’d be real nice. Even C-rank was plenty enough of an upgrade. It’d make raising the kids easier by far, too.

The refrigerator of the expansive kitchen was stocked with a variety of ingredients. But now that I was actually about to start cooking, even the process of ingredient selection seemed daunting. Rice porridge… or something like a soup, or stew seemed to be a good option, but what should I use, and how.

[★Let’s Try Cooking Together☆]

“What, you even know how to make dishes from this world as well, sir?”

Since he was offering to help, I gladly opened the quest window I’d received.

[ Please fill the pot hanging from the right-side wall to about ⅓ full~ And take out the meat located in the second drawer inside of the fridge as well. It seems like there’s veggies in the first drawer, too. Once you’ve minced the meat to begin, the first mission will be complete! ＾▽＾

Reward: Cooking Ingredients Handbook That Has Pictures Thoughtfully Included, An Apron For My Partner ]

How so very thoughtful of him. But thinking of him monitoring me, it did make me feel kind of awkward. As I’d been instructed, I minced the meat and received the reward. The cooking ingredients handbook was convenient, but, the apron… Why was it hot pink. Was this revenge. I attempted to get out of wearing it, but the conditions to engage in the next quest that would teach me how to cook, had wearing the apron listed. That damned Sung Hyunjae bastard. It had to be revenge for lobbing the hot pink yarn at him as his birthday present, for sure. He really did nurse a long grudge.

Under directives given by a certain nugu-ssi–who seemed to be right behind me in presence, at least–a passable-looking stew came together. Why was he proficient at making dishes in this world, too.

[ Please enjoy!

Looking after family is important. But, one must cherish oneself as well! With a spoonful of Partner’s love, let’s clear at least a whole serving♡

Reward: 10,000P, Hot Pink Handmade Mittens ]

Why did the quest window message have to change to be so cringeworthy. I wanted to know who was responsible for the System in place here. And what was with the ‘hot pink handmade mittens’. Give me just the points.

After setting the table, I called over my dongsaeng, who had emerged after washing up. Thankfully, Yoohyunie finished an entire bowl of the stew. Once my stomach was full, a yawn slipped out on its own. Now that my dongsaeng was safe, I could finally relax; drowsiness pulled over me like a blanket.

“Would I be able to learn Alpha’s Skills before leaving here, d’you think? Though the number of Skills is few, compared to his rank, it seemed like there were a couple of useful ones.”

Yoohyunie said, as we laid down next to each other on the bed.

“It won’t be easy. Even so, if you can retain a good impression of it, it shouldn’t be impossible. Were there any pieces of equipment or Skills that you liked in the Point Shop?”

“There’s a lot of nice options, but since I don’t have the points.”

“We can always gather the points, so don’t worry about that and just pick out the ones you like.”

Hyung will buy them for you, even if it means that I have to squeeze dry that ball of yarn in the System, in addition to Sigma.

“First, we should try to locate Yerimie and Peace, and Noah-ssi. Fortunately, Hyuna-ssi mentioned that she might know where the two of them might be. We’ll finish installing the disk, and once the Newcomer lets us know the parameters for the raid, we can start racking up points while taking stock of the situation.”

After reestablishing contact with the Newcomer, it was my intention to inquire after how much time had passed already, and then ask to have the flow of time inside this place slowed as much as possible. Since there shouldn’t be much happening outside, after all. Since we’d already mentioned that we were planning to appraise the conditions of the monsters we would be raising, even if the raid took a few days longer, it shouldn’t rouse any suspicion.

“...hyung.”

“Hm?”

“This world, you’d said that it was a world that used to actually exist, right?”

“Yeah. Though I’m not sure how long ago it might’ve been, I was told that it was a world that had been destroyed in the past.”

“And the events that occurred here, were all things that had really happened?”

“That’s true, but don’t worry about it too much. Us, we’ll be fine.”

Yoohyunie shut his mouth without answering. Though this dongsaeng was someone who had known that our world was headed towards its demise, far before I had, now that he was confronted with a world that had actually been destroyed, it seemed his feelings had become complicated. Would Yerimie and Noah-ssi be alright.

‘I’ll have to learn as much as I can with this opportunity, after all.’

Partner-ssi, I’ll leave it in your capable hands, then, sir. Please make sure to thoroughly scour the System.

As sleep had already been looming over me, my eyes presently closed, and my consciousness grew dim. After I woke up from a restful sleep.

“...Yoohyun-ah?”

My dongsaeng had disappeared, and was nowhere to be seen. There was only the faint impression left, at the spot where he’d been laying. Since the bastards that had been linked to his Mark had all been taken care of, and his body had recovered as well, it shouldn’t be anything dangerous; but where had he gone, without even saying a word.

When I hurriedly climbed out of the bed, as though it’d been waiting for me, a quest message blinked into existence.

[ Morning Exercise, Conducted On The Rooftop! ]

So he hadn’t gone far, thankfully. If it was the roof, then it should be within a hundred meter distance, so it seemed Sung Hyunjae had been able to spot him. He really was a help, after all. Carelessly throwing on some clothes, I headed towards the rooftop.

- - - - -

(1) yj is using ‘korean age’(만) to count, which is why 25+5=31. detailed explanation found in footnote #5 here

(2) and once he realizes that he’s the ‘elder’ in age hierarchy, yj switches to a half-formal, half-informal style where he’s talking down to sigma in a very 'mom-ordering-kid-around’ style (‘that’s fine, isn’t it?’) while he steamrolls him into compliance

(3) yj says ‘포인트 셔틀님’ → ‘point shuttle-nim’; someone who’s a ‘shuttle’ is essentially a ‘whipping boy’, the way it gets used in slang. e.g. a group of bullies at school forcing the bullied kid to go and buy bread from the school’s convenience store for them (with the kid’s own money) would call the bullied kid as a ‘빵 셔틀’ (‘bread shuttle’), for example. not to be confused with ‘bus’, which is more for being carried in games (‘i rode a bus to get carried up to plat rank’). so yes, that ‘-nim’ being added to ‘point shuttle’ is used ironically/mockingly

wasn’t gonna work on this, except that it’s wei’s anni present 🙃 go say thanks to wei if u read👌

Q) 헌터들은 보통 대식가인가요?

+(Q&A)

Q) are hunters typically big eaters?

A) the higher the rank, the more efficient their digestive abilities become–but as the amount of energy they consume increases proportionately as well, they tend to be big eaters, for the most part. but notably, high-ranked Hunters are capable of ‘absorbing energy’ via their magical energy as well. accordingly, the more advanced their control over magical energy, the less they need to eat. in addition, their idiosyncrasies vary depending on their respective ‘properties’. in han yoohyun’s case, by burning up something with fire, he is able to absorb the ‘energy’ imparted from it and is capable of forgoing eating altogether. had it not been for han yoojin, he would not have continued to consume any food following his Awakening. conversely, as song taewon must keep repressing the power of the Lunar Eclipse that continually compels him to swallow things down, even with outstanding control over his magical energy, the amount he eats is considerable. bak yerim possesses outstanding control as well, but as she enjoys the act of eating in itself, she eats heartily. that she had been unable to eat what she wanted, as much as she wanted, while living as an ‘imposition’ (at her relatives’) has a hand in this, in part. moon hyuna is of the opinion that, with remarkable digestive abilities and a full coinpurse, there’s no reason not to enjoy eating, and as kang soyoung enjoys eating as well, the three will gather to drink and dine together from time to time. liette isn’t picky about what she eats, but falls close to the aforementioned three. as for noah, he has outstanding control as well, but due to the trauma(shock) he received from liette’s cooking when he was younger, tends to be a light eater. sung hyunjae possesses outstanding control; but, owing to his status as a waxing moon, his body demands more energy–something he deliberately ignores.

Q) 아주 어릴때부터 유진이는 유현이를 돌봐오면서 요리를 해줬다는데 유현이에게 나쁜것 하나 안먹이면서 키운 유진이를 보면 생각나는 것이 있습니다. 유진이는 보통 식단으로 어떤것을 만들어 줬나요?

Q) 각 인물 별로 본인이 만들 수 있는 요리 중 가장 자신 있는? 요리가 뭔지 궁금합니다!

Q) 한유진도 아이들과 함께 요리라거나 제과제빵을 할까요? 만든 요리의 양은 한정적일텐데 누구누구에게 나눠줄지 궁금합니다

Q) 성현제가 지내온 수많은 삶 중에 특별한 에피소드가 있었을까요? 성현제야 기억하지 못하겠지만 유독 애착을 품은 삶이 있었다든가.. 지나온 삶이 궁금합니다~

[sunshineistyping]

I read your Sundrop x Reader human AU bit and loved the concept!! If it’s not too much to ask, could you perhaps make a part two?

Thank you guys so much for all the support and love, I'd love to continue the Sundrop fic!

You're So Cute

(Part 2 of Shared Lunch)

Pairing: Sundrop/Sunny/Sun x GN!Reader

Au: Human Au

Warnings: None

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“Hey,” your eyes flicked to your right. There was Sunny, a light blush on his face as he shifted his weight a few times. You'd both finished your shift not long ago but he’d taken quite a while to step outside. His blonde hair looked a little messier than before but his nervous grin from earlier remained. You nod your head to the side, offering him to walk with you. He, of course, begins to walk beside you.

“Hi Sunny, how was work?” You'd start out slow. You wouldn't ask about why he’d called you ‘My Love’. You wouldn't hyper-fixate on the way he’d smiled as he went back into his room. Of course not.

“Uhm- It was good! The kids were pretty calm for nap time.” His blush had faded just a bit but that nervous smile only grew. His pale steel eyes hooking on the way you smiled at his words, your heart fluttering at that simple action. You wouldn't focus on him at all, right?

“Were they now? Did Vanny cause you any trouble?”

“As much trouble as a six-year-old can cause,” he chuckled and shrugged. Yeah no, you were definitely hooked on his every movement. His every breath. He was what had single-handedly restored your faith in men. Perhaps even the most attractive guy you'd ever met. Were you being dramatic? Of course you were, but obviously, your attraction that you had all but given up on was now returned. So honestly you were allowing yourself to lean into these thoughts.

“Really? The bunny princess caused you, the pride and joy of this daycare, some trouble?” You joked, lightly nudging him with your shoulder.

“Ah- well, I don't know about pride and joy,” he's so flustered you almost break into a fit of laughter. His eyes looking almost anywhere but you, well now would be as good a time as any to mention earlier. Maybe you could be more sly with it? Try to turn it back on him?

“Oh? You're not the pride and joy? Then who is Love?” At that moment his eyes widen, his face turns the richest crimson you've ever seen on a person, and his grin near glows. You both slow down, no longer walking but rather standing to the side of the daycare's empty parking lot.

“You're so cute,” he flirted back and for a moment you short-circuited.

“I'm cute?” You ask, leaning closer to the taller man.

“You are, very much so. In fact, I think you're sweet too.”

“Oh wow, and I thought I was the flirt.” You grip lightly onto his shoulders.

“Really now, so that's what all that friendliness was.” His arms slip around your waist holding you gently against his chest.

“Ive been flirting for months, you're just completely oblivious.” You hoped he’d submit and let you win. You loved these little flirting games though they rarely got this far but no, he kept pressing.

“I might be oblivious, but you know what I have that just might make up for it?” He leans closer, closer, and even closer. His warm breath ghosting against your face and eyes still holding your gaze.

“What do you have?”

“Good taste.”

“Oh, and how are you gonna prove that?” You ask and he lets out a small, airy chuckle as his forehead pressed against yours. He seems so calm, so comforting, you cannot stress enough how warm he was. His embrace could only be described as loving, the nickname you gave him couldn't have been more perfect.

“Well that depends, how willing are you to let me take you out?”

“Like, on a date?”

“Of course silly, how else?” There was a moment where you enjoyed each other's company and closeness before finally, you said what had been on your mind this whole time.

“You going to kiss me or are you going to keep hesitating?” He smiles at your simple statement before leaning in, kissing you gently for only a moment. A peck just as warm as the rest of him but God were his lips soft. You smile and as if he was a lovestruck puppy, he begins leaving small kisses all over your face.

“Okay, Okay! Stop it,” you laugh as he pulls away. Oh, you're definitely going to take this man up on that date offer. You've waited too long to let him go now.

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[mobagehelllocal]

“lucky ending”

First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much.

-- from Anonymous

A/N:  Hi Anon! Sorry for taking so long! Thank you so much for liking my work and for sending in this request! Since this was submitted before I opened my headcanons request, I’ll assume you wanted a scenario! It reminded me of a particular Japanese middle school/high school tradition... I don’t want to spoil it, but I do hope you enjoy it!

edit- additional pieces: ver i (this), ver ii (???), ver iii (rook & lilia)

--

“Hey, did you know?” 

You looked up from your meal to see a grinning Ace. 

“Well... you haven’t told me what this is about Ace.” you finally said in a dry tone. “So, no—I wouldn’t.” Beside you, Epel’s lips curled up in amusement. 

"Are you sassing me?” Ace squinted at you.

“Who could say.” you shrugged your shoulders. “Anyways, what is it?” Ace studied you for a couple more seconds before he too seemed to ‘shrug’ it off and continue.

“There’s actually a tradition in Twisted Wonderland during graduation season.” Ace’s smile turned wicked, as he raised his hand and tugged at a button on his shirt.

“Please don’t strip. Nobody needs to see that.” you said—Deuce promptly choked on his food and Grim snickered beside you. On his other side, Jack sighed as he patted the man on his back. 

“It’s not that!” Ace scowled. “Sweet Queen, if you keep going on like that, I swear—”

“Sorry, sorry.” you raised your hands—palms up. “So, what is it?” 

“This button.” he pointed at the second button from the top. “Well, for NRC, they go with the fifth button—but either way...” Sebek leaned forward in interest.

“Is this the button tradition?” his eyes sparkled, “you see, I was thinking of giving—” 

“It doesn’t work like that Sebek.” Ace said—at which the Diasomnia student immediately deflated in response. 

"People give this out at graduation.” Ace continued. “It’s like the last chance to confess--before you leave the school life behind.”  

‘Last chance huh...’ you thought, as you remembered Crowley’s words from the other day.

“In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home... but...” the Headmaster peered at you with glowing eyes. “Something tells me you don’t want that anymore.”

“And because I’m so generous... I will let you decide what you wish to do.” his eyes brightened behind his mask. “I hope to hear from you soon...”

"Why not the first button?” you couldn’t help but ask. Ace, who had just finished recounting how many buttons he had given out in his last graduation was startled by your question. 

“Err...” Ace scratched the back of his head. “I dunno?” 

“It’s the second button, because on the regular school uniform... it’s closest to the heart. Because graduations at NRC are in the summoning robes—that means the fifth button.” Jack finally spoke up, “what normally happens is... someone confesses, and the other party decides whether or not to give the button. When the other party gives their button—it means they return the love of the person who confessed.” Grim’s face twisted at that. 

“In conclusion... disgusting.” Epel shrugged his shoulders, before he shot Jack a look. “I’m surprised you, of all people know that.” Jack’s whole body twitched, and his tail bristled in response. 

“So. you were being a little shit.” Deuce told Ace.

“Yeah Ace, you’re an asshole.” Grim huffed.

“Not true, all of the people who wanted my heart, got it~” Deuce grimaced in disgust at his roommate’s response. On his other side, Sebek shifted upright.

“I don’t care what you all say, I’m giving—” 

“Sebek, no.” 

As your friends erupted into chaos your hands fell on top of your second button and you fiddled with it thoughtfully.

--

“Alright, what is up with you two?” Riddle turned around to glare fiercely at the squabbling Ace and Deuce. At his movement, the long cloak of the summoning robes shifted around his legs.

“Nothing, Dorm Leader!” the two immediately squeaked out, and Riddle sighed—exasperated, but continued to eye them suspiciously. As a fourth year, Riddle had no need to visit campus as often as he did. Ace was already made the Dorm Leader, and Deuce was his Vice Dorm Leader once the two had entered their third years but—

‘I know Trey told me not to worry…’

-

Cater and Trey had long since graduated from Night Raven College—but the former was still ever so interested in what his friends were doing. He had easily convinced Trey and Riddle to go on call that night to catch up. It was during that call that Riddle had confessed his fears about leaving the fate of Heartslabyul to Ace and Deuce.

“Wow~ Riddle is much more of a mother hen compared to Trey~” Cater had laughed, delighted. Riddle had instantly puffed his cheeks, ready to defend himself. Trey—sensing the argument that was about to come—quickly placated him.

“I don’t think it’s wrong of you to care so much, Riddle.” Trey had said, in his same soothing tone. “You’ve held onto the dorm leadership for three straight years… it’s natural that you worry about how Heartslabyul will do… but… I believe—the dorm will be what our juniors make of it.” 

“That’s my worry.” Riddle grumbled in response.

“Well—the two of them did shadow you as Vice-Dorm Leaders during my fourth year, yes?”  

“…Yes.”

“I think they know what they can and cannot do by now.” Trey consoled, “Have a little bit more faith in them—after all, you were the one who entrusted the Dorm’s future to them in the first place.”

“I suppose…”

“If all else fails,” Cater chimed in, “[Name] will be there, won’t she?”

“I’d like it if I didn’t have to rely on her for the two of them but…” Riddle unconsciously smiled at the thought of you. “but yeah… she… she certainly had a hand in how Heartslabyul changed to be the way it is today...”

“Ah~ I’m a little jealous you still have an excuse to see [Name]~” Cater hummed. 

“I—” Riddle felt his cheeks flush at that, “It’s not like that!”

“Huh~? I didn’t say anything though~” Cater cackled knowingly. Riddle tensed, and Trey only sighed in amusement as the red head began to lecture the older man.  

-

Despite Trey’s (and admittedly, Cater’s weaker) attempts at getting him to be more hands off—he continued to conduct surprise visits to the campus. Primarily to keep a check on both Ace, Deuce and how they were currently running his beloved dorm. He knew it almost always made the two panic, but he just wanted to ensure that—they were doing fine. Riddle worried endlessly— 

-

“I don’t think it’s as surprising as you think.” You had told him once, a giggle on your lips. “Riddle… despite everything… you still genuinely want the best out of people. It’s the way you are.” He had flushed red when you put it that way, but he was incredibly appreciative of the fact that you noticed. He was also happy that you didn’t think it as something he should change immediately. 

“Ace and Deuce—I can see why you worry but…” you had patted his hands gently, and shot him the same sweet grin you had given him that time—about two years ago—after his embarrassing Overblot. “You’re also improving yourself. Take it step by step—little by little, and I’m sure one day you won’t think twice about whether or not those two can do justice to the Heartslabyul in your vision.” 

-

Seeing you as often as he did was just a bonus—or so he’d like to think. He hasn’t quite admitted to himself, how incredibly fond he has grown of your presence, and how much some of his visits was more to see you again—rather than visiting his juniors.

He could feel the way his lips unconsciously curled up just at the thought of you. He quickly turned away from his juniors—if only because he could not stop smiling. 

“Come to think of it…” he mused, pretending that this was just a thought that came to mind—and not something he’d been eagerly looking forward to— “Where is [Name]?” When there was no response, he felt his smile drop and his brow twitched at their silence. 

“Come now—if there’s anytime you’re going to be quiet…” he turned to look at them, only to realize that they had incredibly guilty expressions. “… Is something wrong? Is she hurt?”

“Well—no.” Deuce rapidly stuttered out, “It’s just—well—” he glanced hopelessly at Ace, whose eyes shifted around in an uncomfortable manner. 

“Err—it’s a little hard to explain…”

“What is going on?” He demanded, his expression growing dark as he thought back to the last time, he had seen you. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with you—you had greeted him as kindly as you normally had. You had looked healthy to him and nothing had seemed to be weighing too much on your mind… “Tell me right now.”

-

“Thank you, for coming with me.” You had smiled, “but you can leave me here, really.”

“Do you even know why Crowley called you?” Ace asked, his hands crossed behind his head when he noticed the most subtle shift in your expression.

“[Name]?” he arched a brow, and you shook your head, a smile bloomed on your face at his concern.

“No, it’s… it should be nothing.” You looked down at Grim. “You’ll stay with them, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” The monster scowled. “I don’t know why Crowley wanted just you… It’s not like you won’t tell us after…”

“That’s true.” Deuce had agreed easily.

“I will tell you if it’s important.” Ace’s eyes narrowed at the way you phrased your sentence, and when you slipped into the office—it was only Ace who stayed, his gaze fixated on the door.

“Is something up Ace?” Deuce turned to see that the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader hadn’t moved from his position by the door.

“I think she’s not telling us something.” Ace said, before he approached the door and pressed his ear against it.

“Ace! That’s rude!” Deuce moved to pull him away, but Ace shook him off.

“Sssh! I can’t hear!” he hissed at Deuce before he leaned harder against the door.

“—I have found a way to bring you back home—” Ace and Grim immediately stiffened. Deuce looked on, wary of their reactions.

“What…” he swallowed, “what did you overhear?” 

-

“She still hasn’t said anything.” Ace said after he told a frozen Riddle the story. “and… well… none of us have the heart to bring it up.” 

“Well Grim certainly wanted to.” Deuce interjected. “But we figured… it was probably something we should wait for her to say… are you okay, Dorm Leader?”

“You don’t need to call me that.” Riddle replied immediately, before he exhaled. He raised his hand and pressed it against his forehead as he thought of the situation.

‘Of course, …of course, I should’ve thought of it.’ His hand fisted in his hair, as his brows furrowed. ‘This isn’t home to her this is… it’s the farthest thing from a home.’ He felt the blood drain from his face, and the minute shake of his hand at the realization.

-

Riddle made the two promise to not speak to you about it—and that he’d try to bring it up instead. Deuce looked like he wanted to protest. Riddle could understand—the three of you had a certain type of friendship that should mean that Ace and Deuce had a right to bring it up with you but… Ace had always been much more perspective than he actually let on, and agreed to let Riddle handle it.

Whether Ace understood the depth of Riddle’s feelings or not, was currently inconsequential given the circumstance. What Riddle needed to focus on—was speaking to you about the… issue.

No, it’s wrong to call it an issue—and neither is it a problem… It’s just… perhaps best called a big decision. One that Riddle knew your likely answer to, and how it’s not the answer he would want to hear.

In his defence, ever since coming back, Riddle did try to talk to you about it. He tried very hard to confront you—but whenever he’d try to tell you—he’d take one look at your smiling expression and think about how much he’d like this moment to last longer. ‘Just a little longer… Let me have their smile a little longer—’ because he knew that the moment, he brought it up—you might no longer smile at him.

Unfortunately, time is nobody’s friend—and during a break from his graduation practice, he ran into you.

“Oh, [Name].” he blinked in surprise before his eyes narrowed when he noticed that you weren’t smiling as usual. “Did something happen?” he asked, immediately anxious for you.

“Ah it’s…” you paused, and your expression grew even more distressed. “I don’t… know how to phrase it.” He grew cold at that—he had a general idea on where this conversation could head… Before he could get a word in, the doors to the Hall of Mirrors opened, and a bunch of other fourth years exited noisily.

“Do you want to talk somewhere else about this?” The slightest furrow in his brow, and the tiny down-turn curve of his lips expressed his concern for you. Your heart did a little leap, and you briefly got lost in his pretty grey eyes before you slowly nodded.

-

Your voice was soft as you explained the turmoil you’d been going through the past few days. 

“I… want to stay. I want to stay so badly that I keep coming up with excuses to do so but… at the same time… I know that this means I’ll be abandoning my family… my old life behind and…” you looked down at your hands, and Riddle’s frown only grew as your voice got shaky. “that’s unfair to them—isn’t it? That—I’ll just up… and leave… and say nothing.”

“If you want to stay, then just stay.” You didn’t look to be convinced, and Riddle felt his heart twist that he isn’t enough of a reason for you to stay.

“It sounds so easy, doesn’t it?” you chuckled, your tone low, “maybe my life here is certainly far better than anything else I could dream of but… the guilt will eat me alive. That I just turned away from them… It’s so selfish of me.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong for you to be selfish.” Riddle disagreed as he reached out towards you and held your hands. At the action, your eyes fell to your twined fingers, and you observed the gentle way in which Riddle rubbed the back of your hand. “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”  

“You think so?” your voice cracked, and he leaned forward so that you could see the honesty in those pretty grey eyes of his.

“I know so… and if you still feel guilty then allow me to bear it with you.” He took a deep breath before he slipped one hand away from you to tug at the fifth button of his summoning robes. Your eyes widened—stunned, as you recognized what he is about to do.

“Let me express to you my own selfish desire.” He pressed the button into your palms as he met your gaze evenly. “I love you [Name]—I want you to stay—so—can I be the reason you do?”

His deep red hair fluttered in the cool wind that passed through the open halls of the college. You could see sweat dribble down his temple, and the smallest shake of his bottom lip. He swallowed; his Adam’s apple bobbed. His own eyes peered and searched your gaze too—for any indicator of the answer you would choose to deem him with.

As you looked at Riddle, you knew that a part of you will always feel guilty about the choice you were about to make but—that honest affection in those eyes were enough for you to know that Riddle, as he is, was always going to be enough of a reason to stay.

“Yes…” you murmured, and Riddle’s nervous expression broke away for a joyous one—an expression that made your heart do a little dance. “Yes—I’d want you to be the reason I stay.”  

--

It took all your courage (and the fact that it was his graduation—Great Seven did he look so good in those robes—) to finally tell Leona about what Crowley had told you.

“Good riddance.”

You felt your face pale, and your soul—shatter at Leona’s reply.

“What… what did you say?” you stuttered, “Did you just really…?”

“I said good riddance.” Leona rolled those green eyes of his at you. “You can finally go home. You can finally stop bothering me.” His eyes turned poisonous—and you felt your whole body weaken. You would have dropped to your knees if Leona’s glare hadn’t frozen you in the first place.

“You…” you swallowed, “you don’t mean that… you don’t… right… Leona…?”

“Good—” his green eyes became murky with an emotion you couldn’t quite understand, “—riddance.” He then scoffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Now leave me alone.”

“But—”

He began to walk away—but desperate—you grabbed him from behind. Your hands wrapped around his chest, as you clung to him as tight as you could.

“Herbivore... The hell are you doing?” Leona hissed as he moved to rip your hands off him. 

“Wait!” He froze at the command in your tone, and the way you pressed your head in between his shoulder blades.

“Let me... let me say something... Please...” 

‘Were you crying?’ Leona tensed; his tail flicked about in irritation—ready to confront anyone who made his woman cry—

He hissed at his own thoughts. 

“I’m not going to listen to your shit, woman.” He snapped, and he felt you flinch against him. Something deep and primal in him whimpered—because he knew he had terrified you.

He had to convince himself—this is for the best. This is for your sake. 

You were not his woman. You were not his mate. You should not have a future with him.

You were supposed to be leaving.

He wanted you to leave. 

It would be better that way.

You didn’t deserve the second prince. You didn’t deserve a rebel. You—

You deserved much better than him.

‘So please let me go.’ he thought, a little desperately, ‘because if you don’t... then I won’t be able to let go.’ 

“Leona... I... I really have no courage. I can’t even look you in the face because I’m...” He growled at that, and he felt you flinch again. “Let me do this...” He felt you move your hands, and you pressed something into his own palms. You curled your fingers around it, before you pulled away. 

“I want you to have this. If you won’t let me say anything... then please let me do this.” 

There was a brief silence—as you studied the way Leona remained tensed, his tail jerked around in irritation and your eyes shut in despair.

‘Of course... It’s Leona... what was I thinking?’ 

‘Of course, he wouldn’t want you to stay—of course—’ you realized your own foolishness. ‘Of course, he wouldn’t want you.’

“I’ll go. I’m sorry.” you said before you rushed off, as you tried, desperately not to make a sound as you cried.

Leona’s ears moved rapidly; despite your attempt to not make a sound—he could clearly hear you cry your heart out as you ran away from him.

“Tch…” he looked down at his hands, only for his brows to furrow in confusion. “This is… a button?”

“Does the herbivore…” He lifted his head to look off into the direction you took off in. “does she know what this means…?” His brow twitched in irritation; he pulled his hand back and got into a stance to throw the button away—but something in him couldn’t do it.

‘Are you really going to throw her heart away?’

“Shit!” He swore to himself as he threw a fist at the closest thing he could—one of the trees in the garden. He paused, as his eyes lingered on the patch of grass that he enjoyed taking naps on… with you.

He thought of all the things he would lose—

The way you smiled at him, despite how hopeless he was as a person. The way your skin felt against his own when he could get away with hugging you despite never saying those three words… The way you looked at him with acceptance—regardless of his glaring faults.

He thought of all the things he would never experience—

The way you would suit the crown of a princess—more than any other women he’d known. The way you could glow under the light of Afterglow Savanna’s sun. The love you two could’ve shared if he would just stop being such an asshole—“Stupid woman…” he growled low to himself, as he spun to give chase to you. His hand reached up to rip a certain button off his own robes. “I just can’t be selfless—”

‘Not when it comes to you.’

‘Not when I desperately need you.’

When he pushed open the doors of the Hall of Mirrors, Crowley turned around, startled.

“Kingscholar—?” the Headmaster gaped.

“Is that still connected to her world?”

“Yes but—what are you doing?” Crowley cried, alarmed as Leona rushed for the portal.

‘If there’s a god out there… if the ancestral spirits do exist… then please—’ he faltered at his own thoughts before he shook his head. ‘Please—don’t let me be late—’

-

“You’re back!” Your mother had only paused for a second, stunned when you popped out of the mirror in the living room, and fell to your knees. She quickly dropped down onto the ground before she reached for you and pulled you into her embrace.

“Mom—I’m—” you felt your eyes tear up, “I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.

“Oh… sweetie…” Your mother pulled back to cup your face in her hands as she studied your expression. “Never mind that—tell me what happened? I need to hear everything!”

You blinked rapidly and nodded. She brought you to the kitchen and sat you down as she whipped up a snack for you to eat as you recounted your adventures in Twisted Wonderland.

You were—baffled—she didn’t seem as terrified as you thought she would be. You had thought you would’ve come back to her crying—or, you don’t know—police in your house maybe? She was calm—and she was simply… interested in your story.

Like she knew all about it already—and she just… wanted to hear your point-of-view.

When you got to the part about Leona—you got all choked up. Regardless of how he treated you—you knew that a part of you would always love him. If anything—it would be something you would desperately cling onto, and in the depths of your heart—you will continue to nurture it. It was the only thing of him, you had left.  

“You loved him.” Your mother held your hands, and you shook your head as you gently corrected her.

“I’ll always love him, mom.” You felt tears hang onto your lashes. “I’ll always… wonder… ‘what if.’”

“Would you go back if you could? Would you stay with him?”

“I… I would but—it’s not like he wanted me.” Your lower lip trembled, and you felt your chin wrinkle at that. “He didn’t want me.”

“I think he did, sweetie.” Your mother wiped your tears away. “Leona is pretty dishonest to others… and especially to himself.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“He pretty much is.” And that’s when it dawned on you.

“Wait you—” you looked up at your mother with furrowed brows. “Why does it sound like you know him—? You—you haven’t met—”

That’s when the door swings open, and your father’s voice echoed in the house.

“We’re back!” You only had a moment to question what he meant by ‘we’ when he entered the dining hall with a familiar figure.

“Leona—?” Both males looked at you—surprised. Despite how happy you were to see both—your eyes naturally gravitated to Leona.

Your eyes met his, and he blinked slowly before a smirk crawled up his lips.

“Took you long enough.”

-

“Time isn’t exactly linear across two worlds.” Is the first thing Leona told you as he brought you to your room—or more recently referred to as his room. He dragged you onto the bed and pulled you onto his lap with relative ease—his fingers tangled in the cloth of your shirt. The only reason there was a distance between you two—was because of the way you Leona stared at you with a hungry fervour.

He looked at you like he was a starved man who had just caught sight of an oasis in the middle of a desert. There was also a difference in the way he held you—a certain desperation in the way his fingers pressed against your skin—as if making sure that you were no desert mirage. You had just seen him—but it felt as if he was seeing you for the first time in an unbearably long time.

“You entered the portal before I did.” Leona studied you with his vivid green eyes. “but when I went through the portal… I arrived a day after you were first taken to Twisted Wonderland.”

“Wait… so how long… did I miss out on?” you asked weakly.

“It’s been a year.” He replied quietly, and you looked at him—stunned. 

“That’s—you—” you cleared your throat. “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why—why wait? Why—why did you stay?” you whispered, “you could’ve just gone back—” He scoffed.

“That’s simple.” He stared at you evenly. “If I hadn’t waited for you I…” he paused. “I might have never seen you again.” You felt your eyes go wet, but you inhaled sharply as you resisted crying. He pulled you even closer to him, his arms wrapped around your waist. Though you tried to move away—it was futile, Leona was stronger than you.

“Why—I thought you said—”

“I tried to be selfless with you.” Leona confessed lightly, his eyes studied your face—the way your eyes glimmered, the way your lips pouted as you attempted to hold back your tears—you hadn’t changed from whence he last saw you but—

Having lived in a world without you for one year—only strengthened his resolve to be with you.

“I tried to be selfless with you.” Leona repeated, “but I’m sorry—I can’t be. I have to be selfish because—the future I want… it’s one I can only realize by your side so—” He moved his hand away from you only to move it to his pocket. When his fist opened, your eyes widened to see an elegant black button on his palm.

“I’ve waited a year to return my heart to you.” He murmured softly, as you began to cry in earnest. “Will you accept it?”

“Of course, I will—you big—asshole—” you cried, as you hit his chest. Leona could only chuckle, as he raised his other hand to brush your tears away.

“I deserved that.”

“Yes, you did.”

-

With your fingers laced with Leona, you went downstairs to meet up with your parents. Your mother cooed happily, while your father nodded gruffly at Leona.

“You promise you’ll take care of her, alright?” Your father eyed him, and Leona nodded.

“I will.” He promised.

“You will visit, won’t you? Or call through the mirror?” Your mother asked hopefully, and you looked at her surprised, before you glanced up at Leona in a questioning manner.

“So, you would never need to choose.” He dodged your gaze; a light flush rose to his cheeks. “I worked with Crowley and Malleus,” your eyes widened—he willingly worked with Malleus? “to establish a proper connection between your world and mine. I kept in contact with the Crowley who let you through the door in the first place… and now we’ve managed to keep the timelines properly linked.” He raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Basically… you’ll be able to keep in contact with your parents… or anyone else you wanted to keep in contact with in this world.”

“Leona…” you felt your eyes water at that.

“Don’t cry.” Leona reached down to wipe your tears away, “cry anymore—and your father will retract his blessing.” You looked at him, a little stunned—he didn’t seem like the type of person who’d ask for someone else’s blessing.

“Of course, I did.” Leona said as he figured out where your thoughts had headed, though he sounded slightly offended that you would think he would not have asked.

“It took him a year too.” Your mother said fondly while your father snorted. Leona swiftly cleared his throat before you could ask again.

“A story for another time.” He said way too quickly, before he offered you his hand again. “For now—” his green eyes softened as he met your eyes, and your fingers instinctively laced together once more.

“Shall we go home?” he gestured for the mirror that begun to glow. You smiled, and quickly jerked on his arm to pull him down. Surprised at the sudden motion, Leona’s face drew close to yours—and you leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek.

“Silly kitty,” you giggled, “I’m already home.” He speedily pulled back. Despite the grumpy expression on his face, you were delighted to see the flush rise to his cheeks once more.

“And I… I am too.” He murmured softly, and your smile slipped into something much more tender.

You were excited to see what the future would hold for you two. 

--

“Azul.” Azul blinked as he turned his head to the approaching Jade. He arched a brow at Jade’s bemused expression—the man rarely made that face. If Jade ever encountered something he didn’t understand, he was more likely to react to it with curiosity and excitement. So, for Jade to be confused—with the lightest flicker of worry… well, Azul immediately found himself to be anxious. 

“What is it?”

“According to one of our juniors, [Name] came by to ask for you earlier—but we were at graduation practice. They redirected her to your office to wait.” Jade’s brows furrowed. “Apparently… she looked quite distressed.” Azul felt himself frown immediately at that. 

“I was going there anyways because of this—” Azul raised his hand to present some documents. “I’ll speak with her.” Jade nodded; his expression looked a little bit more relieved.

“I’ll keep Floyd off for awhile then.” Jade decided, “there must be a reason why she specifically seems to want to speak to you.”

“Alright.” Azul agreed, before the two parted ways. He thought back to when he had met you earlier that day—you had been thrilled to see them. Floyd had happily picked you up and spun you around several times—before you needed to be saved by Azul and Jade. Shortly after that, you had to go attend class—at which point they bid you goodbye, with the promise of spending more time together, later.

Azul, Jade and Floyd had just returned to Night Raven College today for the graduation practice. They hadn’t seen you in person for quite a while because their internships took them far away from the College. Azul wasn’t particularly happy with it (none of them were, really—even you) but you had always known how important success was for Azul (especially him) so you had encouraged him to pick what he knew was the best choice for the future.

His heart sped up at the thought of how deeply you understood his feelings—and his desires. At that point, he promised that he would ensure—his future would be spent making you happy and that you would never be left wanting.

You will get the best from him because he knows how much you deserve it.

You deserved so much better than him—he knew that—he’s accepted it as an irrevocable truth. However—you had chosen to stay by his side, despite his past—and despite his inexcusable actions.

“Azul… I think you shouldn’t be ashamed of your past.” Your voice resonated in his mind, and he’s instantly brought back to that time the two of you quietly stood in front of his elementary school photo.

“After all, it’s because of that Azul—that you’ve become the Azul I see today and…” You turned to him with a tender smile that instantly made his heart soar like a flying fish and his eyes well up with tears.

“I think you should know—that the Azul before me today, is not as terrible as you like to believe.” Then you giggled, and his cheeks flushed red at your next words.

“It’s quite the opposite actually—you’re someone I can’t help but watch because… I think you’re amazing.”

So, he was going to do his best for you.

He was an inherently selfish person.

 You were someone he wanted to hold onto for as long as possible. He knew that maybe one day you’ll realize that he wasn’t worth it. He knew that it will hurt him—but he also knew that if that day comes, he wouldn’t stop you.

He’d let you go.

As selfish as he was—he knew you deserved for him to be selfless for once. Especially if it meant you being happier.

It would hurt so much but—knowing how much better you could probably have—he would do it. 

‘While you’re by my side…As long as you’re in my life… for however long I’m allowed too…’ 

Until the day that someone … or something—that was inarguably the better choice for you comes along— 

‘I’ll treasure you… take care of you… treat you like a Queen—’ 

He stopped right before his office doors, and briefly fiddled with his hair. He inhaled, before he pushed the doors open. You turned to look at him with a despondent expression.

“Azul.” You hiccupped, and his heart dropped to his stomach at seeing your tears. There’s a part of him that immediately goes into a cold fury—‘How dare anyone make you cry—’

“Shh… It’s alright.” He slid the door closed behind him, dropped the paperwork carelessly onto the ground and opened his arms.

You immediately took it as an invitation to delve into his arms. Your breath was shaky, but Azul��s familiar and fresh ocean scent immediately calmed you down. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and he rubbed one hand consolingly down your back. He slowly led you to sit down on the couch, and let you stay in his arms as he plotted a way to get back at whoever it was that made you show such a sad expression.

Once you pulled away, he immediately pulled out a handkerchief to pat away the wet tear tracks across your face.

“Are you alright?”

“I… yeah… just… I was… overwhelmed.” You said, breath still heavy. "I have something to tell you.” Azul hummed, as he moved to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“The Headmaster... he’s found a way.” 

“A way...?” Azul cocked his head, not quite understanding what you meant.

“...” 

“...” At the sudden silence, Azul raised his head to see you look down at your hands. He noticed that you were trembling ever so slightly. Azul narrowed his eyes at such an action.

“[Name]?” 

You looked up; your eyes were glassy—with one blink you would probably start crying again. He could see the minute tremble of your jaw. 

“I can go home, Azul.” 

“That’s...” Azul blinked rapidly—stunned but at the same time—his heart tightened in his chest, and he automatically clenched his fists. 

‘Ah…’

‘I didn’t think it would happen so soon…’

‘I didn’t think I’d have to let go of you so quickly…’

‘I don’t want you to go.’ 

Azul was selfish—he has always known that he was selfish... but with you... he always tried to not be. 

He would be selfless with you.

He promised himself that much.

You had always been more than what he deserved—so how could he ask you to stay with him?

Knowing that—he knew what he had to say to you.

“You must be happy.” He finally managed to speak, and he prayed that you didn’t realize how shaky his voice got. He was barely able to keep himself from crying too. “You will go home, won’t you?” 

“Is that it?” you asked, heartbreak in your voice but he gritted his teeth in response. 

“Well... what else did you want me to say?” 

“I...” you stood up; your breath shaky. 

‘I wanted you to give me a reason to stay.’ went unsaid. 

“... Nothing. I just... came here to tell you.” you finally said, your voice soft. “I’ll... see you later Azul.” You turned quickly—but not fast enough for him to not see the tear that slipped down your cheek as you escaped Mostro Lounge’s VIP Room. 

“...” 

Azul laced his hands together, before he rested his forehead against his hands. A whimper left his lips, as he began to shake in his seat. 

“Tch...” 

His heart squeezed tight—and he idly wondered if this was the type of feeling that Floyd’s victims got. It hurt—it hurt so much. Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.

The one time he tried to be profoundly good—

The one time he tried to be selfless—

It was only right that he felt this much pain over it—after all—he always believed that he deserved it.

He struggled to remind himself how much this was for your sake. How this was better for you. Even if you began to hate him for it (and witch, did the thought of you despising him made another disgusting whimper slip out of his lips—), he’ll watch over you—only the best for you.  

-

When you rushed out of the room, you immediately slammed right into the twins. They are both briefly stunned by your expression, but just as quickly, you clung onto the closest twin—in which case, it was Floyd. The man immediately wrapped his arms around you. He began to coo comforting words to you as he shot a look at his twin. Jade’s eyes flickered between you and Azul’s shut door, before he ultimately decided to shuffle you and his brother into a nearby room. Once you were sat down, Jade quietly coaxed the story of what happened out of you.

Through your tears, you tell him. You grow a little terrified as both twins gain a quiet look of rage almost identical with Azul’s earlier expression at your tears. The two share a look, and Floyd almost immediately got up—until you stop him.

“Please… don’t be mad at Azul…” you muttered, “I… I don’t think he means it.”

You remember the expression Azul made. First—there was fear, pain—before it shifted to something more like acceptance.

You don’t understand.

Why wouldn’t he think he was worth it?

He had always been selfish—and you wanted him to be selfish with you—and yet—

“You must be happy.”

He had said, but you had immediately caught the slightest bit of wetness that had began to well up in his blue eyes. You had noticed the way he had stiffened, the way his breath and voice hitched as he did his best to hide from you what you were truly feeling—

Jade and Floyd exchanged another glance, before coming to the same conclusion.

“Listen [Name].” Jade reached and cupped your chin in a delicate manner. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

-

When Azul finally exited his office, he had to fix his robes, and his make-up—if only to keep his unflappable façade as Azul Ashengrotto of Octavinelle. What he didn’t anticipate was to be immediately blocked by the Leech twins.

“Ah. There you two are.” Azul cleared his throat, his voice still scratchy from the amount of crying he just did. “There are some things we need to do—” Floyd slammed a hand against the wall right next to Azul’s head, before he leaned closed—his eyes dark as he studied the octopus merman in front of him.

“Shrimpy ran by here. She was crying.” Floyd’s eyes narrowed, and Jade sighed from behind him. “What did you do?”

“Apparently, the dear girl is being offered a chance to go home.” His voice trembled at the last word, but he held fast to his belief that this is the best choice for you. “I congratulated her on it.”

“Why?” Floyd hissed, “why would you—Azul—”

“It was only logical to assume so.” Azul said in response. “I presumed she wished to go home.”

“What… makes you think she wouldn’t want to stay here?” was Jade’s quiet query.

“It’s obviously the better choice for her to go. There’s nothing for her here.” Both twins blinked, a little awed that Azul—their selfish, greedy Azul—just said that.

“… There’s nothing here worth staying for. Not for her at least.” Azul said—at the sight of their expressions. “I’m sure—she’ll be happier in her home world. She should have never even come here.”

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

He wondered what it would have been like to have lived in a world where he had no concept, no idea of you. He shuddered immediately—he would rather always be able to remember you. If he could not have you, then he would cup the memories you shared together in his palms and hold on as tight as he could.

Floyd let out a disbelieving laugh.  

“Is that truly what you believe?” Jade’s eyes narrowed, “that there’s nothing for her here?”

“You can’t sincerely believe that!” Floyd snarked, his expression twisted in displeasure. “The Azul we know—he would be selfish.”

“Don’t you see?” Azul, fed up, finally yelled, “It’s because I’ve always been selfish with her that I should be selfless for once.” He gritted his teeth aggressively.

“Of course, I want her to stay! I practically need her to stay.” He inhaled sharply, as he looked at the twins with wet eyes—frustrated that, as per usual, he had lost control of his emotions and tears. “But I also need to acknowledge that it may not be the best choice for her! So, I don’t want her to consider me when she’s making this decision—It’s not about me. It’s about her.” He exhaled, a part of him satisfied that he had managed to stun the twins once more… that is until Jade let out a soft chuckle and stepped aside to reveal that you were standing right behind him. Floyd stepped back, while a snicker escaped his lips.

“Azul.” You peered at him with wet eyes, and he tensed.

“You two—” Azul looked up to glare at the twins, who shrugged easily as they retreated away.

“Azul… why do you think like that?”

“…” He looked away, he didn’t want to answer, but when he felt your soft hands cup his face so that you could direct him to look at you—seeing that familiar look in your eyes—the one that told him how badly you wanted to understand him—instantly made him soften. “I always think about it… you deserve better. Better than me.”

“Azul… you need… to stop thinking of yourself like this. I love you.” You added, and his eyes widened, “Regardless of what you think—I think the best option for me… is to be by your side Azul.”

“You… really think that?” his voice shook, and you sniffled too.

“Of course, I do! Even if you didn’t want me… or need me…” you lower lip trembled, and Azul wanted to kiss your worries away. “I would cling to you as tightly as possible—it hurts but—I’d stay. You’re always going to be worth it for me.” Azul’s whole body quivered, and without thinking his hand slid onto a button on his blouse. He took one of your hands off his face to press a button onto your palms.

“You have my heart.” He murmured, voice soft, and his eyes moist. “and you have my future… if you’ll let me share them with you.”

“It’s a deal, Mr. Ashengrotto.” You said, your own eyes pricked with tears—and he let out a little chuckle.

He will continue to do everything in his power to always—remain—the best option for you.

-

“What a couple of cry-babies.” Despite Floyd’s tone, a pleased smile made its way to his lips.  

“Our cry-babies.” Jade murmured, a familiar smirk plastered on his own face as he watched you and Azul bawl into each other’s arms.

--

You were, once more, invited to Scarabia’s annual graduation party for their fourth-year students. It was… one of their grander parties and it was hardly the first one you had ever attended since befriending their Dorm Leader two years ago.

However—what made this party different from the others you’ve attended so far, was because a part of the graduating batch were your friends—Kalim and Jamil. The very fact Kalim was graduating, made the Asim family decide to sponsor this year’s party. This meant that even as far as grand parties would go—this year’s party blew the past other parties away in terms of extravagance. There were a lot of people (guests of the graduates), food (completely catered—for sure Jamil slunk away a little miffed that he didn’t get to cook), music (hired by the Asims) and dancing (right in the centre of the room too!)

It was incredibly beautiful—and just… something you have never believed you would have had the chance to experience. You expressed as such to Kalim, who, with a grin—laced his fingers with yours as he pulled you straight to the dance floor. His warm hand landed on the curve of your waist before he began to lead you in a complicated dance. You let out a few squeals here and there—especially because dances native to the Land of Hot Sands were quick, and nothing like you’ve experienced before. Kalim only grinned happily as he twirled you around then rapidly pulled you back into his arms. You could feel your cheeks flush red as you were pressed up against the man’s well-defined chest.

“Isn’t this fun, [Name]?” Kalim let out a boisterous laugh as he continued to spin with you at the centre of the celebration. His dark summoning robes shined under the opalescent light of the room.

“Yeah…” your eyes flickered away briefly, before landing back on his face. Luckily, Kalim had not noticed your slightest hesitation—nor the fact that you were lying.

It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying yourself—you always enjoyed any moment you could spend with Kalim—that was the truth but—

You could feel the countless dark stares that many of the eligible young women of Twisted Wonderland shot as you hogged Kalim’s attention. Ever since you had arrived at the party, Kalim had happily, and staunchly stayed by your side throughout it—eagerly sharing with you details from the Land of the Hot Sands.

It made you… nervous… insecure.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Kalim cocked his head to the side, bright red eyes curious—but you didn’t want him to feel upset on such an important day for him.

“It’s really nothing.” As the music finished, you pulled away. “I do think I’m a little tired… So, I think I’ll go rest back at the table.” He gave you a worried look.

“Are you sure?” he cocked his head in an innocently curious manner that made your heart hum in pleasure of his concern. “You’re my friend, [Name]! So, I want to make sure you’re well!”

‘You’re my friend.’

‘You’re just a friend.’

You felt your lips tightened at such a damning sentence, and you quickly looked away.

“Yeah, I just…” you paused, “maybe you can dance with someone else?” you suggested—even if you wished with all your heart that he’d notice how you were truly feeling.

“Oh! That’s a great idea!” Kalim beamed brightly, before he turned around and happily waved his arms. “Who wants to dance with me next?”

In an instant, the Asim Heir was surrounded by gorgeous women, and you were elbowed out of the crowd.

“Oof.” You grasped at your stomach after you were harshly pushed away, and some of the ladies at the outermost part of the circle, sniffed haughtily at you before they turned away.

You stood there for a moment, as you wondered if it would be too late to fight your way through the crowd to reach his side but… You watched Kalim offer his hand to one of the beautiful women. Something in you lurched, and you could not bear to watch so you quickly retreated to your seat—you felt like a coward.

Your table was devoid of your year mates now. Grim was hanging around with Deuce near the buffet table. Ace and Epel, on the other hand, were incredibly popular and seemed to be dancing with some other women too. Ace looked pleased, but Epel’s expression practically begged for someone to get him out of there. Jack on the other hand, claimed that the noise was too much for him, and had eagerly retired to his dorm. You let out a small giggle, as you briefly met Epel’s suffering gaze, before he and his partner turned again. In the process, your eyes landed on the ever cheerful Kalim… and his incredibly enthusiastic partner.

The woman had herself pressed up against his body and seemed to be saying something right into his ear… but judging from her slightly frustrated expression—whatever she was saying had no effect on Kalim. 

“In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home... but...” the Headmaster peered at you with glowing eyes. “Something tells me you don’t want that anymore.”

You frowned as that memory, unbidden, returned to the forefront of your mind. You were supposed to tell Kalim about it but… Your eyes flickered up to see him dance away with the woman.

You doubted you would get the chance to do so now.

Which you definitely… did not do on purpose.

You just—did not know—

How does one bid goodbye to the sun?

As the music ended, the same hoard of women surrounded Kalim once more. Despite the pang in your heart—you couldn’t help the exasperated but fond sigh that left your lips as you see Kalim smile cheerfully at them all.

Not at all bothered.

Still of a kind heart.

The way he was right now…

‘He truly is the sun.’ you thought, you looked around and you noticed—that everyone was paying attention to Kalim. Their gaze fixated and focused on Kalim’s next actions.

‘Everyone here is a heavenly body, orbiting the brilliant sun.’

Kalim had always had a sense of magnitude to him—always had a spark that attracted everyone… even those who were never meant to stay.

‘And I’m a meteor off course.’

Your eyes hazed over and watered immediately at the realization of your position.

‘I cannot stay.’

You ducked your head frantically—as you felt the inevitable spill of your tears down the curve of your cheeks.

‘I have no place here… no place to stay.’

No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.

They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.

And you know the path you must walk will take you universes away from the one sun that you wished you could orbit around for eternity.

You choked briefly, and instinctively grabbed a nearby napkin to dab at your face. You were glad Grim was enjoying the festivities at the table across—had he been with you, everyone would have probably noticed your complete breakdown.

You sniffled quickly and froze as a hand that held out a handkerchief, entered your line of sight. Your eyes traced the tanned forearm, up the toned arm, before your gaze was caught by deep dark eyes.

Jamil stared at you with a frown on his face as he pressed the handkerchief into your hands. You flinched, startled, before you grabbed it.

“Thanks.” You stuttered, voice low, and Jamil gazed at you unflinchingly.

“You’re thinking of going home.” He murmured in that soft spoken, delicate tone of his. “No… you’re already going home.” His eyes narrowed, and under the candlelight of Scarabia’s halls—the shadow of the flames licked his face and made his dead, calm expression somehow… even more terrifying than usual.

“Please… don’t look at me like that.” You bowed your head, as some of your tears slipped down your knuckles. You could hear Jamil sigh.

“You’re going to break his heart.” Jamil murmured, his voice as cool and collected as ever.

“How can I break something… that I’ve never held in the first place…?” You muttered as you lifted a golden goblet up to your lips. Jamil shot you an unimpressed stare at that.

“Regardless of what you believe,” Jamil pursed his lips. “You will hurt him.”

“It’s not going to last.” You said in defence. “He’ll move on…” you looked up; tears got caught in your lashes as you blinked rapidly. “He’s going to meet people even more amazing… Like someone who …”

‘Someone who will suit him.’

‘The best person that he could be with.’

“I’m sure of that.” You tried to sound convincing—but you couldn’t truly—not when your heart believed otherwise.

“… That… isn’t something that you alone can decide.” Jamil’s eyes slid to Kalim. The man was burning as bright as ever in the centre of the room. “Kalim should have a say in that as well.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one saying that.” It was wrong of you to say that. It was—without a doubt—a low blow. Judging from the most miniscule of movement above Jamil’s brow—you had guessed he thought the same.

He didn’t blow up and instead, the man sighed deeply as he picked up his own golden goblet for a drink. You look down onto the handkerchief that you clenched in your hands.

“Jamil…” you did not look up, and instead your hand reached for your own pocket. “would you… give him this letter?” you pulled out a wrinkled envelope—one you had penned immediately after learning from Crowley that you could go home.

You… you couldn’t bear the thought of watching Kalim get sad.

You had always figured that if something like this came up you would tell him in a letter instead.

So, that you would never have to face his sadness or his tears.

“… You’re a coward.” Jamil said quietly, before he grabbed the envelope anyways.

You don’t say anything.

He was right of course.

You were just a coward—as you frantically cupped your heart in your hands in the hopes that it would not burn away into nothingness.

-

“Then,” Crowley peered down at you with glowing eyes. “Are you ready?”

You had to drag your eyes away from the doorway—that you had stared at whilst you wondered if anyone would run after you.

Though you knew nobody would.

It had been what you wanted in the first place.

You didn’t want… you hated seeing people get sad. So—you had chosen to write letters to all your friends… and you had set them in places you’re sure they’d see. It was so selfish of you but—

You remember Kalim’s tears when Jamil had overblotted, two years ago…

‘It’s better this way.’ You reassured yourself before you looked at Crowley.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You tried to smile, and something about the way Crowley tilted his head made you feel as if he pitied you. He chose not to say anything, and instead the Headmaster gestured to the glowing mirror.

You took one step toward the mirror before the door behind you dramatically burst open.

“[NAME]!” Your heart stopped at the voice, and you turned around to see that Kalim was standing right there—his hands on his knees as he panted in exhaustion.

“Ka…lim… why…” your eyes caught sight of a Jamil who slowly dragged his feet into the Hall of Mirrors before your line of sight was completely blocked out by Kalim’s red eyes.

“[Name]! Why—why are you leaving?” His lower lip wobbled, and your heart wrenched itself at the fact that you were the cause of such an expression. “And you didn’t even tell me—have I—are we not friends? Is that not enough reason for you to stay?” His expression looked so genuinely heartbroken, but you snapped into attention at his words.

“The thing is Kalim…” you tried to avoid his gaze. “It’s exactly because we are friends that I… that I cannot stay.” You managed to force out.

“What? Why?” he gaped at you, and your frustration at the situation made tears begin to slip out of your eyes.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” you practically yelled, uncaring of your audience. Kalim gaped at you.

“But—but—I love you too!” Your heart quickened at his statement, but you frantically shook your head.

“No, you don’t—you love me—as a friend.” You emphasized, “and I can’t stay knowing that—you need to end up with someone… better than me—”

“I mean it [Name]!” honesty shone in those red eyes. There was a flicker of desperation in those eyes before he quickly fell to his knees in front of you. You gaped at him in surprise as he reached for his chest.

Snap.

He looked up at you, as he stretched out his hand to offer you the gleaming button.

“I love you [Name].” He met your eyes head on—and the seriousness in that gaze of his made an exquisite shiver run down your spine. “So—won’t you marry me?”

--

As the graduation ceremony in the Mirror Chamber concluded, Vil and Rook exited first out of all the Pomefiore fourth years. They quickly approached their Pomefiore juniors, who were all, enthusiastically cheering for them. 

"Congratulations Senior Schoenheit! Congratulations Senior Hunt!” 

Epel shuffled forward and offered the two seniors a big bouquet of brilliant red roses each. 

“Oh~ They are beautiful~ Merci, Epel.” Rook took the bouquet with a pleased expression, and happily sniffed the roses. “and very fragrant too~” 

“You were so impressive, Senior Schoenheit! You got so many awards!” said one particularly awed junior.

“Naturally.” Vil inclined his head, as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of the roses. Around him, his juniors continued to give bouquets to his fellow seniors. Disinterested in that—his eyes flickered around in a slow pace... looking for...

Vil frowned behind the rose bouquet when he could not catch sight of you.

‘Now, where could you have gone, sweet potato?’ 

“Er...” Vil glanced back down at Epel, to see him quickly flicker his eyes in a direction. 

‘I see.’ 

“Excuse me.” he murmured underneath his breath before he proceeded to move away from the Pomefiore gathering, down the path Epel had signalled him too. 

-

“Congratulations Vil. I mean—I guess you didn’t need it but--ah... no... I’m saying this all wrong...” he heard you before he saw you. His glossed lips curled up in an amused smirk at the sound of you practising your congratulatory message. Vil turned the corner to see you seated at a bench in the middle of the open courtyard. Unlike him, you were dressed properly in your version of the school uniform. You had furrowed brows, a wrinkled nose and pouted lips as you stared into a bouquet of what looked to be dark coloured flowers. He almost called out to you when you began to speak to yourself again. 

“Hi, [Name] here. I wanted to congratulate you and also... tell you... Agh! Is this really the time to tell him about that? God... I don’t want to...” 

“Don’t want to what?” You jumped in your seat. You turned your head quickly, only to immediately loose both your train of thought and breath at the sight of him. 

It was not the first time you had seen Vil in the summoning robes—he had been one of those students that had immediately caught your eye during that entrance ceremony—all those years ago.

But...

It was like seeing him for the first time—if that made sense.

His light blonde hair twisted into loose lavender waves that accentuated his sharp but delicate features. The sheer brilliance of his violet eyes in contrast to the paleness of his lashes were further accentuated by the dark make up that no one else but Vil Schoenheit could possibly hope to pull off. His lips were glossed gently with that pale lavender colour that had you dying. How long have you dreamed of kissing those lips? Smearing that lavender colour across his cheek? Ruining him, the way he’s ruined you?

How could you ever hope to fall out of love with Vil Schoenheit? 

How could you ever hope to fall in love with someone else, after Vil Schoenheit?

He approached you slowly, with an elegant countenance only heightened by the way his robes swirled around him. 

“Sweet potato?” He arched a fine brow. You were still silent despite that he had taken the seat next to you. While he may draw pleasure from the way he made you speechless, your earlier words still held fast to his curiosity. You snapped into attention after you realised that you had been staring for quite a while at him.

“T-That is—Senior Vil! Congratulations on your graduation!” you stuttered out as you simultaneously offered to him the bouquet in your arms. You peered up at him worriedly, and promptly got distracted by the way his long lashes tangled briefly as he blinked. 

“Roses as well?” he tilted his head, pale blonde hair curled gently around his cheeks. You paused and saw that he also had a bouquet of vivid, red roses in his arms. 

“Oh! Um! How presumptuous of me... I didn’t mean... that is to say...” he always turned you into a nonsensical fool. It was impossible to string words into sentences when everything would fall away in the face of Vil. He stared at you, bemused, as you babbled. “Sorry, I suppose you wouldn’t want this—Right, that’s that—I can just—” 

“I did not say that.” Vil’s slender shoulders shook in laughter. Vil dropped the bouquet of red roses he had already been holding, to take the bouquet you offered him. He peered at it gently and noticed that what he had originally thought were black roses were actually—not. As he moved it under the light of the sun, the roses would shift between a dark violet or a deep blue. His breath caught in his throat. Red roses were—no doubt—classic. They were beautiful—but this bouquet you gave him… the roses were bewitching. 

“What colour are they meant to be?” he finally asked as he leaned down to inhale the familiar, comforting scent of roses.

“What do you see?” At that, he looked up at you with a curious expression. You looked back, eager to hear what he thought. 

“I can see violet and blue toned colours... they also seem to be black in some angles.” 

“Oh.”

“Are they not meant to be like that?” 

“No, no they are... I asked ah... Professor Crewel to help me breed these type of roses... It’s amazing what magic can do for plants.” you admitted, his eyes flickered quickly between you and the bouquet.

“You bred these... specifically?” 

“Ah... yeah... back home...” you struggled briefly, “there were these roses that were either bred or coloured to look pink and yellow. I wanted to make ones that were violet or blue. Thanks to magic, it’s possible to actually create these.” 

“Why?” he scrutinised your expression as you quickly flushed.

“Er... That’s because I couldn’t choose between either of the colours.” You said quickly as you licked your chapped lips—momentarily realising that you had forgotten to bring your lip balm. ‘Vil is looking at me, and I’m horrendously ugly. What hasn’t changed?’ you bemoaned to yourself.

“I figured... Pomefiore colours, yeah?” 

You watched as he studied the way the colours of the rose petals would shift in the light. You were happy to note that there was a little glow of awe in those violet eyes, and—what you hoped was delight. His expression quickly shuttered after you noted that they were Pomefiore colors, and he dragged his gaze from the deep coloured roses to glance at you.

“You know sweet potato... lying isn’t very attractive.” he said, nonchalant, and you froze. 

“What... lying?” you chuckled nervously. His eyes narrowed briefly, and you winced.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” You quickly avoided his gaze as you felt your eyes immediately begin to go wet, “Sweet potato, look at me.” You inhaled sharply as you slowly turned your head to face him again. You chewed nervously on your lower lip, and his eyes narrowed again. 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Sorry.” you knew he was referring to your habit of chewing on your lower lip. 

“Well?” 

“... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice until... later.” you finally admitted. “though who am I kidding—I wanted you to know... I wouldn’t have given that to you if I hadn’t wanted you to know that...” 

“Violet roses mean ‘love at first sight’.” Vil murmured softly, “Blue roses mean ‘impossible love’... and Black roses have so much meaning... just what are you trying to say with this bouquet, [Name]?” you flinched as he named all the colours that appeared in the bouquet. 

“Black roses... I... this is also me saying... goodbye.” Vil froze, as he turned to you quickly, his eyes turned even sharper. 

“What are you going on about?” 

“Headmaster Crowley... he found a way for me to go back.” you swallowed, “and... I think I’ll go.” 

“And what about the violet and blue roses? Will you ignore what you just told me?” Vil demanded, and you looked away—unable to look at him—because you know that if you do, your resolve will falter. 

“That’s... I just... I wanted to confess. To get all these feelings out because I know... I know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled, but you held fast and tight onto your resolve.

‘Just let it out. Get it out of your system and... and maybe you could start again.’ 

“Why do you believe it’s impossible?” You hear Vil sigh, exasperated. “For the Queen’s sake—look at me [Name].” 

“No, look at me.” you snapped back, and he recoiled briefly at the sudden flash of anger. "I’m more than aware that we...” 

‘We have no chance. I, of all people—know that. It’s just some dream I cooked up in my head.’ 

“Look at us.” you said, miserable. “I... you’re so beautiful... and amazing... and I’m just... me. How could I ever suit someone like you? How could I make someone like you, happy?” 

“You will stop talking like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Putting yourself down the way you’re doing right now.” He replied, “and look at me when I’m speaking to you, [Name].” You feel a soft, gentle hand cup your cheek, and move it to face him. Vil had a frown on his face—and while he never looked less pretty because of it, you still hated that you were the cause of it.

“[Name]... you...” he paused, sighed before he dropped the bouquet of dark coloured roses down onto his lap and raised a hand to his uniform. 

Snap.

Your eyes widened as you watched Vil rip a button off from his uniform before he offered it to you. 

“Vil—that—you—” you stuttered. You remembered him talking about the importance of the uniform, and he was the last person you would ever imagine, who would actually—

“What normally happens is... someone confesses, and the other party decides whether or not to give the button. When the other party gives their button—it means they return the love of the person who confessed.” Jack’s voice echoed in your head.

“There’s a tradition at graduations in this world.” Vil began gently as he placed it in your hands, “when one person confesses—the other can chose to—” 

“Give them a button.” you murmured and Vil tilted his head to the side in surprise.

“You know of it?”

“The others... Jack... told me.” you mumbled, “but this... Vil... you...” 

“My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” He leaned towards you and pressed his forehead against you. His eyes softened as your eyes watered and the tears began to spill. “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side. Nothing you say will change that so...” He brushed your tears away with the thumb of his hands, and you found yourself lost in the gentle affection in those violet eyes. 

“Won’t you stay with me?” Those lavender lips curled—and you’ve never ever wanted so badly to kiss someone in your life, “I’m not a generous person, [Name]. You can only answer yes… or yes.” 

--

“Ah—[Name]!” Ortho signalled for you to come close quickly. You moved to the boy’s side, before he gestured for you to peak into Idia’s room. You had expected to see Idia as he fiddled away with his computer—as per usual. To your surprise however—Idia was in fact—just stared off into space. You gaped at him, before you peered down at Ortho who nodded worriedly.

“Big Brother’s been like that for a while.” You could hear the frown in Ortho’s voice. “I don’t know what to do—not even his games can pull him out of it.”

“Really?” at the disbelief tone, Ortho looked up at you with wide golden eyes.

“Really!” he nodded, his fiery hair bobbed at his movement. “He hasn’t touched a single game in a while! He’s actually gone to some of his classes—well I still needed to bring him there—but he didn’t resist like usual… In fact, he didn’t complain at all! He’s even gone to graduation practice! That’s why he’s—” Ortho gestured at his outfit, and you realized that Idia was, in fact, dressed in the summoning robes.  

“What do I do?” Ortho asked, and you knew if he could cry—he probably already would be.

“I’ll… I’ll try to talk to him. You can stay here, alright?” Ortho nodded, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

-

Idia, on the other hand, still stared off into empty space—unable to register anything. All he could do was think about what had got him so distracted.

Crowley had bothered him too much about graduation—and Idia just simply… didn’t want to think about it. Unluckily for Idia, the Headmaster could become incredibly annoying when he wanted to be. Whenever Idia just wanted to brush aside the issues—Crowley only pressed him even more. At his wit’s end, Idia had thought to mess around with his computer… or something. Perhaps jam Crowley’s ability to connect to Idia—or even better—plant something that will hear his secrets… (‘I sound like Azul,’ Idia had even despaired briefly).

It was as he hacked his way into Crowley’s system in the Headmaster’s office that Idia had accidentally listened into a particular conversation that he sorta wished he remained oblivious too.

-

“You asked for me?” Idia had jostled in his seat when he heard you speak. He rapidly looked around his room—wondering if you had made it in without him realizing (again). He had an excuse on his lips—ready to be said if you wondered what he was doing. (He had a feeling ‘annoying Crowley because he wants me to physically attend graduation’ might not up your support levels together much.)

“Ah yes [Name]! Please! Do come in! And sit, sit! For I am gracious.” Idia whirled around to look at his monitor. With some rapid taps onto his keyboard, he was able to get a visual of Crowley’s office. He quickly recognized your form from behind.

‘What are you doing in Crowley’s office?’ Idia thought. He didn’t need to wonder too long however because his question was quickly answered.

“My dear girl, I’ve done it!” Crowley said rather cheerfully, “For I am gracious!”

“That’s… great?” Idia could imagine your cute, confused expression. You made it often enough whenever he tried to explain anything about the games he played. Though your worlds bore many similarities when it came to consoles—there were minute differences that often slipped your mind. He let out a soft giggle at that—you were adorable, and just having thoughts about you made his mood all better.

“That’s great.” You had repeated slowly, “but ah… I’m confused—what is this about, Headmaster?” you inquired, genuinely sounding like you had no idea what he was talking about.  

‘Maybe I should go off. I don’t want to listen in and… I’m sure she’ll tell me whatever it is about—yeah?’ Idia nodded to himself, and just as he’s about to click the button that would cut off the audio—

“Well, what else could it be about my dear girl~?” Crowley had cackled, “In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home—”

Idia’s hand slammed down on the keyboard in shock, as he began to choke. He stared at his black screen in shock—not sure how to feel about what he had just heard.

‘You’re going home?’

-

He shouldn’t… have been as surprised as he was really.

He remembered that day, around two years ago, when you were first isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. He knew that the plan had always been to send you home as soon as Crowley actually found a way to do so but…

As he spent time with you—he had gradually forgotten.

No, he didn’t forget—he—

Put it out of his mind.

He was so caught up in enjoying the time he had with you, that it had slipped his mind that it wasn’t permanent. That it wasn’t something that could last for as long as he wanted.  

He knew that you always had your past world—your family, friends, and life—in your thoughts. He would too—if he were suddenly isekai’d in some foreign world where he had nothing.

So, Idia thought little of the possibility that you would remain in this world any longer. He knew—

He knew you’d want to go home because—

“What would keep you here?”

“What would keep who here?”

Idia yelped and leapt off his chair at the sound of your voice. He turned around to see you, as you peered at him with an amused smile. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled.

‘This is illegal—! You shouldn’t have power over me like this!’ He wailed inwardly, ‘Especially when—’ He let out a strangled noise as you pressed a warm, soft hand against his forehead.

“You don’t seem sick…” you mused, and you tilted your head in a way that Idia squealed at. You were just… so cute. Perfect waifu material for sure—you were kind—always so kind to him, and always willing to understand him in ways no one else ever was able to do. Ortho loved you too—

“Idia?” you leaned closer, and Idia frantically moved back. A wire made him trip backwards, and he let out a pained grunt at that.

“Oh no—are you okay?” He raised a hand to prevent you from drawing any closer.

“I’m okay!” he squeaked out, “I’m fine—just—give me a moment—”

“Alright.” You drew back, and with little hesitation, you chose to sit down on his bed as you watched Idia slowly stand upright. He patted his behind and winced—at which you let out a soft giggle. After a few more moments, Idia shuffled to sit right beside you. He fiddled with his sleeves awkwardly, his eyes flickered away—and back to you.

“Why—why are you staring at me like that?” he finally managed to say, and you smiled.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the summoning robes.” You said, “they suit you. You’re very handsome Idia.” Idia’s face quickly flamed up, and his hands rose to cup his own cheeks as he began to stutter rather fiercely.

“That—you—but—I—you lie!” he settled on; his face completely flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m not lying.” You shook your head, as you admired him in his summoning robes. You really weren’t—Idia can clean up rather nicely, and the dark colour of the robes accentuated the blue of his hair and the gold of his eyes.

“Thanks.” He said, his hands still covered the bottom half of his face.

“Are you really okay, Idia?” you asked, a little more concerned when your attempt at a conversation fell through.

“Yeah…?” he looked at you confused, and your eyes moved to the door. You knew Ortho was still there but…

“Ortho was pretty worried about you. Said you were acting all weird.”

“That’s because…” he chewed his lower lip, and he looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Well…”

“You can tell me anything.” You said—as you always did, when Idia worried himself to a frenzy at what you might think of the things he liked. “You know me Idia, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah… it’s…” he hesitated before he turned to you—Idia’s expression was different—it was, strangely serious and intense—not in any way you’ve seen it before. It instantly made you even more worried. “The truth is…”

He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.

So, he told you what he had overheard, his eyes fell to his palms because he could no longer face you. He was worried about what you’d think when you found out that he heard what had happened—and he was worried that something on your face will make him break down.

Idia was afraid of losing you.

Idia was afraid of losing a person who was so willing to be his dear friend.

His fists tightened on his shirt, and he wondered if there was any reason, he could give you so that you would stay.

“Idia…” you began, but your sombre tone made him squeeze his eyes shut because he didn’t want to confront the truth—that you were actually going to leave and…

“Are you really leaving?”

“That’s—”

“Please don’t leave!” you faltered briefly, and looked at the way Idia was hunched over, with his eyes squeezed shut. It would have been quite the comical sight if it were not for the seriousness of the topic.

“Idia—I’m—”

“I really—I don’t want you to go—” he fiddled with his robes. “I know that’s… selfish of me—and I know you’re probably thinking of your family but I think—no—I know—” He hesitated, and he looked up at you, his expression shy, his chin wobbled.

“I… lo—” he shut his eyes quickly as finally blurted out how he truly felt. “I love you [Name]!” He tugged quickly on a button in his robes before he offered it to you with shaking hands.

You stared at him—stunned—you knew what Idia was like. You knew how much courage it must have took him to be tell you this—and to confront you about it too…

“Idia… won’t you look at me? Please?” you asked, gently. He glanced up at you, and you gave him a sweet smile that had his heart run a mile a minute. With that tender expression, you took the button in his hands and rubbed it gently with your fingers.

“Idia… you didn’t hear the whole thing, did you?” Idia furrowed his brows, before he shook his head.

“I accidentally quit the program…” he admitted, “and… I was too scared to go back on so…”

“Idia—I’m not leaving.”

“I guess it wasn’t enough—wait, what?” his head jerked back up to see your happy expression.

“I have no plans on leaving. If you had listened further, you might’ve heard that.” You giggled lightly, “I didn’t want to leave you—so I asked Crowley if it was possible to just… communicate with my world instead.” Idia gaped at you, completely surprised.

“Wait—you’re staying?”

“Yes.”

“For me?” he squeaked, and you nodded.

“For you. For us.” You held up the button between your fingers, and he looked at it for a moment before he met your gaze again, his face rapidly turned a bright red.

“So, I—I didn’t need to—do this—?”

“Technically…  no?”

“Can you just forget the last few minutes please—”

“Absolutely not!” He made a strangled whimper-like sound at the back of his throat, and you laughed as you moved to embrace him. “I won’t forget it—because I love you too!”

“You—you do?”

You pulled back, to cup his face in your hands. His cheeks burned red, but you disregarded that to look into his gold eyes. His pupils shook, and you could see how nervous he was—you could feel the way he trembled in your hands.

“I love you Idia—and I’ll happily accept your heart.” Idia exhaled heavily, as he slackened into your arms, before he moved to wrap his arms around you.

“And… I love you…” he mumbled, less nervous—a little more assured—but for sure, deep in love. “Thank you… for staying with me.”

--

When Malleus himself invited you to Diasomnia—you gathered all your courage to go and tell him about what Crowley had told you.

"Ah [Name].” Sebek greeted you with a cheerful smile as you entered Diasomnia’s Main Hall. “Care for a button?” 

Your brows shot up as you realized that he was carrying a bunch of buttons in his cupped hand. 

“Err... Sebek... why...” you cleared your throat. “Why do you have so many... buttons?” Sebek brightened up at the question.

“You see, remember when Ace was speaking about the Second Button tradition?” At your hesitant nod, he continued, “I have come to understand that I shouldn’t be thinking about exchanging buttons with the Young Master—” 

‘Oh dear.’

“As his vassal, I should be more concerned with the fact that should he exchange buttons with someone, it would ruin his attire—and by extension it may ruin his reputation.” Sebek nodded to himself, pleased with his own reasoning. “So, I chose to prepare a lot of buttons for the Young Master to pass out to those seeking his button.” 

“I... I see.” You exhaled. If you had to describe what you felt for Sebek at this very moment—you would describe it as exasperated, but fond. He wasn’t a bad person--just... hilariously attached.  

'Malleus...’

Had it already been two years since you came to Twisted Wonderland? Had it already been two whole years since you had met him in the gardens of the Ramshackle Dorm?

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t remember how dark it had been that night—nor could you remember the exact reason why you had still been awake.

“Hm. Who are you?”

What you do know is that everything faded away in favour of remembering how you felt when you first laid eyes on Malleus. 

“Well now this is a surprise. You are a child of man.” 

Long dark hair that tumbled down to the small of his back, pale porcelain skin, and vividly green eyes that were framed by long, thick lashes. The light of the moon was bright enough to illuminate him and it made him all the more ethereal in the night. 

As you had stared at him, you felt your throat dry, your heart picked up its pace and your cheeks burned. You didn’t know—you still don’t know—but something about Malleus just left you so speechless... and in awe. 

You raised a hand to your chest, as you felt it skip a beat just at the thought of him.

‘I have it bad.’ you had to accept that much—even if you knew you had—practically—zero chance with him. 

“[Name]?” Sebek brought you out of your stupor. You dragged your eyes back down to Sebek’s palm, and the shining buttons in his palm. 

“I’m surprised you’re even offering.” you pointed out, and Sebek glanced at you thoughtfully.

“Regardless of my personal feelings,” Sebek sniffed. “I at least know that the Young Master thinks of you as an important friend.” 

‘What was it that Jack said?’ 

Jack had said it was something of a serious promise (Ace completely disregarded it--but... well, you were more likely to believe Jack between the two of them). You also remembered that Malleus wasn’t even allowed to show up in front of the Ghost Bride because he was the sole heir of the Valley of Thorns... 

‘It’s not like Malleus would give me his he...’ You couldn’t help but blink in surprise at the bitterness of your thoughts. ‘Since when did I...’ You quickly shrugged it off, before you finally nodded at Sebek.

“Sure, why not?” After you picked it up, you began to play with it in between your fingers. 

“Come to think of it [Name], what are you doing here?” Sebek eyed you suspiciously. 

“Ah that’s because—” 

“I invited her here.” At the sound of his voice, a shiver ran down your spine—and you felt the tips of your ears burn with a blush. You both turned to see Malleus as he entered the main hall. 

Your eyes widened, and a gasp slid past your lips at the sight of him dressed in the dark coloured summoning robes. As the robe billowed around his long legs, he moved with a certain grace that made it seemed like he was gliding towards you. 

“Woah...” you raised a hand to your lips in surprise. In return, Malleus’s lips only curled—pleased at your reaction.

“Ah, Young Master! You look amazing!” Sebek exhaled, as awed as you. 

“Thank you.” He inclined his head elegantly, before his eyes shifted back to you. You shuffled in place uncomfortably, before his lips raised into a gentle smile.

“I apologize I could not come to Ramshackle tonight. We were busy preparing for graduation.” Malleus said, “I thought we could walk instead in the gardens of Diasomnia... before I escorted you home. Not a bad plan, no?” 

“Young Master...” Sebek furrowed his brows briefly, but Malleus only raised a hand—his eyes never leaving your form.

“It is fine Sebek. I will not take too long.” He tilted his head; his dark hair gently fell across his face at the motion and your struck by the motion to tuck it behind his ear. You had to curl your fingers together to stop yourself. 

“Shall we?” 

-

You walked quietly beside Malleus through the gardens; your heart pounded in your ears. 

‘I have to tell him. I really need to.’ You glanced at him quickly from the corner of your eyes. His eyes had slid shut as he inhaled, his shoulders rose and fell at his action. Your heart twisted regretfully, and you could feel your eyes tear up briefly.

His smile was gentle—delicate, much like the fairy lights that naturally accompanied him every night. 

He looked so peaceful. 

He looked content.

He had once been so forlorn.

His eyes had been so viridescent and sad. Loneliness had wrapped him up in a cold embrace.

You wondered if centuries from now—Malleus would remember you. 

You doubted it. 

You were just a drop in the ocean of Malleus’s life. 

As if you could ever... 

“I’ve been wondering.” you flinched as he suddenly spoke, and you blinked rapidly—as you hoped that none of the wetness in your eyes fall out. 

“Yeah?” you hoped he didn’t notice the way that you had been so overcome with your feelings that you had to choke that out.

“That.” Malleus pointed at button that you had been unconsciously playing with your hands. “Why are you holding a button?” 

“Oh that’s...” you looked down at the button in your hand, “Sebek gave it to me. He said he was passing it out to people who would ask you for your button.” 

“My button?” the dragon fae blinked slowly. You quickly told him about the tradition Ace had mentioned. 

“Ah.” Malleus let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, I do believe Lilia mentioned it.” then he peered down at you again. “That begs the question... why did you accept the button from Sebek?” 

“Well... that’s because...” you nibbled on your lower lip. ‘It’s not like I can tell him that I...’ you stopped walking, and when Malleus realized that you had stopped moving—he turned around to face you.  

“Little one?” 

“I just figured... well... I don’t think I’d ever get one.” you said in a self-deprecating tone. “So, I thought... might as well... It’s a cute tradition anyways.” 

Malleus felt his brows furrow in response. He had easily noticed that your mood was not particularly bright. He frowned; he despised the things that would make you sad—it made your light dim. 

Your brilliance saved him. 

He would be damned before he let anything cause you to flicker out like a dying star. 

When you saw his shadow approach you, you couldn’t help but flinch. You didn’t want him to look at you right now—when you know your feelings are all over your face—when you couldn’t control the way your heart hummed in pleasure—knowing he was with you. 

Malleus grabbed your hands, and you swear he could probably feel the way your heartbeat moved into a rapid pace at his touch. At this proximity—Malleus’s scent—gentle but fragrant—of wildflowers and smoke—enveloped you, it made you instinctively relax. You looked at your hands as he gently pried your fingers open to take the button away from you. 

“I see...” 

Before your eyes, the innocent little button caught a flame and burned away. 

“Malleus, that’s overdoing it—don’t you think—” when you looked up, you caught sight of the way he reached for the buttons on his uniform.

Snap.

“I wish you spoke to me first.” Malleus said softly as he pressed the button into your palms. He looked down at you, with those eyes—

Vivid greens--but so gentle, so loving. 

Nobody had ever looked at you like that. 

“After all, I would gladly give my heart to you, my bright light.” your eyes widened, and they began to sting.

“You can’t... you can’t just do that... You’re a fae prince... and I.... I don’t belong here... I... I...” Malleus listened intently as your breath grew uneven as you tried not to cry. “I... I don’t...” you tried to give the button back, but Malleus only pressed your fingers close. “Crowley told me I could go home...” 

“You do not have to.” Malleus leaned down and lifted your head so that he could press his forehead against yours. Your eyes were too sad—too wet.

He could not believe that you thought of yourself like this. 

‘You don’t understand little light... If there’s anyone who should be unworthy to bathe in your presence it would be I....’ 

“You could stay here, with me. You could be my Queen...” Malleus paused thoughtfully, “No... that is wrong. You already are my Queen.” 

“I’m no fae. Not even a magician. Not a speck of magic in me.” your grief escaped you through your tears, “you still want that?” 

‘Volatile as I was... so arrogant and self-assured in my own powers.... but you had not given up on me, little light.... that is why... I won’t let go of you either.’ 

"Of course.” he replied easily, “you possess more power than you think. You possess so much power over me.” he whispered, and his breath fanned over your face. “I do not mind how powerless I am against you.” 

“I’m not an immortal. You... I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Oh, bright light... I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side... rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.” Malleus professed. You were now openly sobbing, and Malleus pressed his lips against your jaw, onto your cheeks and over your eyelids. 

“And should you worry about the centuries after... that is alright my bright light. I will simply find you again.” 

As he pulled away, he noticed that your breathing was still shaky, and he leaned in again to give you several more comforting kisses. 

“Won’t you... get bored of me?” 

“Ah... but you are such a bright spark... I will never tire of you.” He made sure to stare straight into your eyes, “I will never tire of the way you look at me, the way you blush... the way you react when I call for you—and the feel of your heart...” He moved his thumb to feel the rhythmic beat of your heart. 

“Will you not… let me…have your heart too?” He found the button—his button from earlier—and pressed it once more into your palm, to remind you of his earlier gift.

‘His heart...’  

“...How... can I say no?” you choked out, “Yes... of course... Malleus.... I’d... there’s never been anything I wanted more.” 

He could feel his shoulders slacken in relief at your response, as he bent down to brush his lips across yours. 

‘I was terrified that you would slip away from me... Thank you...’ 

“Then let whatever years we have together... be ours only....” 

-- 

[hotwings0203]

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

 It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

 You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. 

 Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

 ¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

 ¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

 ¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

 ¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

 ¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

 At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

 He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

 ¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

 Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

 ¨No way.¨

 ¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

 ¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

 ¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

 You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

 ¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

 It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

 ¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

 ¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

 You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

 Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

 Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

 When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

 So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

 The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

 Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

 You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

 Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

 Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

 Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

 Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

 Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

 You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

 After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

 Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

 Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

 From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand. 

 ¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

 ¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

 You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

 Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

 Damon barely acknowledges you.

 He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

 You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

 Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

 And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

 Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally. 

 Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

 Everyone except Damon Albarn.

 The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

 ¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

 ¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

 Until he spoke.

 ¨Is this your first time playing?¨

 You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures. 

 ¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

 ¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

 But nonetheless, you don't back down.

 ¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

 ¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

 ¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

 ¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

 The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

 ¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

 You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

 ¨I didn´t-¨

 ¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

 You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

 The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

 Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

 He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

 It's quiet for a moment.

 ¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

 ¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

 You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

 ¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

 Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

 ¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

 ¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

 Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

 You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

 Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

 Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

 You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

 Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

 The obsidian glass rolls down.

 ¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

 Oh.

 ¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

 ¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

 ¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

 ¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

 ¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

 ¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

 You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky. 

 He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

 You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

 The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

 You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

 ¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

 ¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

 ¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

 Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨ 

 He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

 You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

 You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

 ¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

 Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

 ¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

 You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

 ¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

 Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

 Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

 But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

 ¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

 ¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

 What a save.

 *******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

 But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

 ¨You´re late.¨

 ¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

 ¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance. 

 The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

 It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

 During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship. 

 Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

 Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

 Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

 For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you. 

 Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

 ¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

 ¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

 Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

 ¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

 ¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

 His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

 ¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

 ¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

 Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

 ¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

 Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

 ¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

 You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

 The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

 Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

 Take right now, for instance.

 As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

 You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

 Weather-2

You-0

 You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

 And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

 The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

 All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

 ¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

 Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

 Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

 You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier.��

 ¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

 Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

 He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

 ¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

 He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

 He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

 For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

 ¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

 He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

 ¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

 But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

 ¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

 Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

 ¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

 You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

 ¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

 ¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

 There it was again, pretty woman.

 You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

 ¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

 Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

 He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

 You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

 ¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

 He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

 ¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

 He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

 But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

 ******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

 So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

 The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

 No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

 ¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

 ¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

 You feel your smile drop a smidge.

 ¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

 But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

 Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

  Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

 ¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

 ¨Damon!¨

 You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

 Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

 ¨Get out.¨

 ¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him. 

 ¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

 Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

 You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

 It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

 ************

 It's nighttime.

 The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

 Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

 Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall. 

 The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

 Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

 ¨Looking for something?¨

 You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

 ¨D-Damon?¨ 

 ¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

 You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

 ¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

 ¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

 You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

 He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

 You can´t help the scoff that escapes you. 

 ¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

 He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

 It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

 ¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the  door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

 A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

 ¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

 You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

 His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

 ¨You smell so good.¨

 ¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

 He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

 ¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

 You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

 ¨We can´t.¨

 ¨Sure we can.¨

 You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

 ¨You´re not worth this.¨

 ¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

 And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

 You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

 ¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

 You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

 But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

 You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

 He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

 ¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

 You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

 It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

 ¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

 ¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

 He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

 But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

 His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

 ¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

 You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

 With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

 You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 ¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

 Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

 Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

 You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

 He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

 ¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

 Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

 You want to run your hands through his hair.

 ¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

 ¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

 Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

 ¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

 Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

 He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

 You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

 It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

 And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

 He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

 Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

 ¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

 Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

 You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

 It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

 He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

 For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

 He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

 ¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops. 

 You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

 ¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

 ¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

 ¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

 He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

 It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

 You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

 ¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

 He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

 ¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

 ¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

 ¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

 ¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

 Halfway?

 Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

 Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

 His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

 He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

 Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary. 

 You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

 It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

 You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

 ¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

 ¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

 It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

 Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

 He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

 Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

 Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Don’t Gotta Work it Out

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: A particularly nasty fight rattles your relationship with Loki. Even as both of you wonder if you’re not meant to work things out, you long to be in each other’s arms. But can you make amenjds before your hope is gone? Warnings: mentions of depression; angst, some more angst, then a lot more angst, and finally a fluffy ending A/N: inspired by the song Don’t Gotta Work it Out by Fitz and the Tantrums. I’m experimenting with a new style, so flashbacks in italics! Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had signed himself up for the mission before the words even left Tony’s mouth. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, just so long as he was away from you. You’d gotten into a fight—a bad one. Somehow, Loki’s way of dealing with it was running away. Whether that was because of pride, pettiness, or cowardice, he wasn’t really sure. Then again, he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible.

“I have volunteered for a mission,” he told you, the sentence short and clipped as he entered your shared quarters. “I leave at midnight.”

“Oh,” you replied, rolling over on your bed so you were facing your boyfriend. He’d already grabbed his bag and started packing. “That’s nice.”

A small hum of acknowledgement was all he made in the way of a response. He perched on the edge of the bed as he tugged on his boots. Right as he finished with the last buckle and was making ready to stand, your arms suddenly encircled his waist. For a minute, the room was filled with hesitation and quiet breathing, a spell of tension only broken when Loki’s hand alighted on top of yours. Not to say everything was fixed between you two, but the anxious energy in the room calmed a bit.

“Just... Come back safe, ok?” you said, your voice so soft, it just barely registered in his mind.

“Alright,” he whispered back. Your forehead rested in between his shoulder blades, and his thumb involuntarily began rubbing small circles on your skin. “I will.”

How Loki wished for more, for the passionate kisses that you usually shared before a mission. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen now. It might even be wrong considering how mad you were at each other, everything you’d said. Though, if it really was wrong, Loki didn’t think he much would have minded; it still would have felt good. Felt normal. Not like whatever messed up situation you were in right now.

You and the trickster god had been dating for over a year and, as any couple would, had a few squabbles. But nothing like what you’d gone through the other day. Loki shuddered now, just thinking about it. It started out stupid, as these things tend to, but turned into something much more serious. He tried to push it from his mind as you placed a featherlight kiss to the base of his neck. Then you pulled away, hugging your knees to your chest. Now it was Loki’s turn to look at you. His hand hovered above your knee for a second before he lost his nerve and let it fall to the mattress.

“I have to go now,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, and Loki walked to the door, looking back at you one last time. You’d already rolled over so your back was to him again, but he could tell you were crying from the way you were breathing. It made his heart break, but all he could do was whisper a small “I love you” and hope you heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh. You’re awake,” you said, entering your quarters.

“I am,” Loki replied, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. There was an open book in his lap, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long ago he’d given up on reading in favor of a contemplative trance, looking at the flames. “And you are home now. Are we all caught up?”

“Ok, it’s past someone’s bedtime,” you answered him, catching on to the ice in his voice. “And no, we’re not all caught up. What’s wrong?”

“You could have invited me.”

You’d gone bowling with roughly half the team, only leaving a note for Loki so he knew where you were. You huffed as you tossed your keys onto the dresser. Leaning back on it, you surveyed his face, set in a harsh manner.

“Sorry,” you shrugged. “You were in the shower, and I knew you wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, sorry again. You can come next time.”

“Oh, can I now?”

You pushed off the dresser and walked over to him, rubbing his shoulders a little. He didn’t shake you off, but he didn’t relax at all either. You frowned and walked around to the front of the chair, planting yourself in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, but his face was still stuck in a scowl.

“What’s this really about?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It hardly matters.”

You clenched your jaw a bit. You love Loki, but it’s hard to deal with him when he gets like this.

“If you’re going to brush it off,” you said, forcing a smile, “then don’t act so obviously upset and angry. I’m always here to talk, but if you’re not going to, then don’t pick a fight.”

“It seems to me you are the one picking a fight.”

“Yeah, ok. Whatever,” you snapped, standing up. You waited for him to clench his fists or give some sign he was feeling something, but he was as unreadable as ever. “I’ll just never have fun without you. Sound good?”

“You are blowing this out of proportion, darling,” he drawled. “You can calm down.”

“Oh, can I now?” you answered with a smug smile, the petty parts of you egging you on to parrot back his words from earlier.

He sprung up from his chair and approached you fast as lightning. It startled you, and you gasped, walking until your back was against the wall. Loki menaced over you, placing one hand next to your head. He made sure to leave the other side open so you could get away if you really wanted to. You didn’t, instead staring defiantly into his eyes.

“You should,” he growled. “Just invite me next time and drop this nonsense.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as he made to spin away from you. “Just because no one’s ever cared to listen to you before doesn’t mean you get to make yourself a martyr.”

Your hands immediately flew to your mouth. Loki had shared everything about his past with you. Really and truly, every painful memory. Every ugly, gritty moment. You knew how much stuff like that damaged him. He spun back around, rage plain on his face, and a deep hurt lurking behind his eyes.

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing toward him. “I didn’t mean-”

He put up a hand to stop both your words and approach. “No. I think you did. It is my fault for believing a mortal of all beings could have any depth of understanding, of feeling. For thinking you could love me. The joke is on me, I suppose, hmm?”

He scoffed and stalked toward the door, refusing to let you see the tears in his eyes. He was yanking on the knob before you could even say his name again. The last thing he saw before slamming the door behind him was you crumpling on the ground in a sobbing mess. As he stomped down the hall, his own tears began to pour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki, are you even trying to sleep?” Bruce asked from across the hotel room.

Tony had taken a room for himself and stuck Bruce and Loki together in an adjoining one. Thankfully, it had two beds, but Loki was still a little pissed. Honestly, he’d considered just skipping the hotel and going on a walk, a long walk. Instead, he was laying with his eyes open and glued to the ceiling, reliving the fight in his mind over and over again.

“Yes, Banner, I am,” the god huffed. “I am just not having any success.”

“Is there... something on your mind?” Bruce hesitantly asked. He and Loki were far from best friends, but he figured it would be considerate to ask.

“Actually, there is,” he sighed.

“Do you, uh, want to... talk about it?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I suppose you are a doctor, after all.”

“Not that kind but-”

“My beloved and I have gotten into an argument, and now I am on this mission. So, we have not made up. I fear we never will.”

“Oh, come one. I’ve seen you two. How bad could it be?”

Loki sighed and sat up on the bed, recounting the story. He did his best to keep the tears out of his eyes and emotion out of his voice, and was met with far more success on the first front than the second.

“Yikes,” Bruce said when he finished. “I mean, they tried to say they didn’t mean it. And I’m sure you didn’t either. So maybe just try to talk?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe we are not supposed to work it out.”

“That’s crazy. Look at you right now; you can’t stop thinking about them.”

“And do you think they are thinking of me?”

“You know what, yeah. I do.”

Loki just mumbled his thanks and flipped onto his side so he was facing the wall now. Bruce went back to sleep, and Loki prayed that slumber would claim him. It did not, and he spent the whole night wishing for you. That he had never said those awful things. That he had never even been given the opportunity to know you, for if he didn’t, he never would have hurt you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid on the floor crying for hours. The notion that Loki would come back and wrap you in a hug and talk about what happened didn’t leave you be for hours. And then, all of a sudden, it did. Then you just felt empty and tired. Somehow, you managed to pick yourself up and drag yourself into bed, still in your clothes from the day. You waited another hour, still believing Loki would come back, if even just to lay beside you in the bed you shared and say nothing. When it became clear he wouldn’t, you submit to the tears still stinging the back of your eyes, and cried yourself to sleep.

Waking up the next morning, you didn’t immediately remember what had happened. You felt the empty space next to you where your boyfriend usually was. You listened for the running water of the shower that you could always hear on the mornings he wasn’t beside you. The silence was deafening.

“Loki?” you called out to the vacant room.

Only the echo of your voice answered you. Suddenly, the memory of the night before came crashing back into your mind. A strangled sob escaped your lips. You desperately looked around, frantically searching, begging, for some sort of sign that he’d returned in the night and had just left before you awakened. There was no indication that such a thing had happened.

Moving on autopilot, you found yourself in the shower. You tried to wash, but mainly just stood there and let the scalding spray run over you. Eventually, the stream turned cold as you used up the last of the warm water. You always enjoyed how plushy the towels in the Tower were, but you hardly noticed it as you dried off. Some water still dripping off you, you pulled on your robe. The mirror revealed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying. Your pruny fingers touched the reddened skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to do anything to cover it up.

“You’re back,” you gasped, walking back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting in a chair, different from the one last night, this time actually reading the book he had. He looked so composed that it made you embarrassed by your appearance. You were sure he was just as much a mess on the inside as you were, though. At least you hoped he was.

“Mhm,” he replied. “And you are dripping on the carpet.”

You looked down where, surely enough, a small wet spot was gathering from the droplets rolling off your body. Everything was moving at half speed in your mind because of how drained you were, both physically and emotionally.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

He didn’t even really acknowledge it as he sidestepped around you and into the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard the shower turn on. Summoning all your strength, you managed to get dressed for the day, encasing yourself in your most comfortable clothes. You looked at the door and considered getting something to eat, but the pull of your warm blankets was too great. The bed, devoid of your lover, reminded you too much of last night, though. You grabbed the blankets off and swaddled yourself in them on the couch. You tried to shut out the world and go back to sleep. It didn’t work.

“Darling?” Loki softly called as the bathroom door opened.

You wanted to reply, you really did, but it felt like too much effort to peel your eyes open and will your voice to work. So, you listened as he padded over to where you were. He sighed and left, leaving your quarters silent once more. You didn’t even have the energy left to cry.

Roughly ten minutes later, you heard the god come back in and set something on the coffee table. The aroma of pancakes, bacon, and tea flooded your senses seconds after, and you felt your heart somehow swell and break at the same moment. Loki’s hand softly touched your cheek and caressed it so gently, it seemed he was afraid you might break.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

Loki kissed the top of your head as gently as he had touched your cheek, his damp hair tickling your skin. He stood up and, though you couldn’t see, felt him turn and look at you once more. Then the door closed, and the strength to cry returned to your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, Steve,” you beseeched. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I’m sorry, you know I can’t.” He truly did look hurt that he had to keep this from you, especially when he noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s top secret.”

You were trying to figure out where Loki was, if he was ok. You should have asked him more about the mission; he would have told you where he was going, rules be damned. But you hadn’t, so he hadn’t, and now he’d been gone for three days with no word on when he’d return. You tried his cell phone, but Steve had at least informed you that they had to turn off anything that could be tracked for the mission.

You felt so awful about what you’d said, the guilt gnawing at your heart every minute of every day, every dream of every night. If he were to die before you could work it out... you just didn’t know what you would do. Even if you never made up, you just needed him to make it back safely. Maybe you didn’t have to work it out, shouldn’t. Maybe you were a toxic poison ruining his life. Refusing to cry in front of Steve, you pushed the thought from your mind.

“But he’s my boyfriend. Doesn’t that count for something more than the rules?” you pleaded, the look of desperation in your eyes only growing.

“Sorry, but it doesn’t. Look, it would be different if you were married. What I can tell you,” he said with a sigh, and a quick glance over his shoulder, “is that he’s alive and safe.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled. “I guess that’s something, at least. When will he be back?”

“Soon, ok?”

“Ok,” you sniffled again.

You trudged over to the couch in the common room, trying to spend time someplace other than your room for the first time since the fight. Besides quick meals, you’d just been moping in your quarters. The thought crossed your mind that you were probably depressed, that you should get up and exercise or move about. Despite the knowledge of that, you couldn’t actually muster up the willpower to act on it. Instead, you flipped on the TV and pulled the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa snugly around your shoulders. The voice of Gordon Ramsey faded into background noise as you stared out the window, foolishly and fruitlessly hoping that you’d see Loki’s ship flying in.

“Monday,” Steve sighed, setting a mug of hot chocolate on a coaster for you.

“What?” you asked, slightly bewildered after abruptly being pulled from your trance.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you, but Loki’s coming back on Monday.” Steve sat beside you and comfortingly pat your back as you expressed your gratitude. “Can I give you some advice, though?”

“Please.”

“Whatever happened between you two, you can work it out. I promise.”

“I just feel so bad, Steve. I said something horrible that I never should have.” You bit your lip before continuing, nervous you were oversharing. The way your companion was sympathetically nodding his head, however, urged you on. “And then he said something awful too. And now he’s gone, and no one will even tell me where to find him. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t work it out. That we’re not right for each other.”

“Come on, that’s just the fear talking. I know sometimes the team grumbles about you guys, but it’s only because you’re so sweet together.” He waited for some sign of recognition that what he was saying was true to click on your face before continuing. “Take it from me, you don’t want to let an opportunity to pass you by; even more so when it comes to being with someone you love. You have to make the most of every moment. But you also have to be willing to work through your disagreements, even if they’re particularly bad. Heck, especially then.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You managed a smile. It was small, but it was also the first one that had made its way onto your face in nearly a week. Not only did you realize you had great friends surrounding you, but you felt a spark of hope that you could repair things with Loki. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, want to come for a training session? Take your mind off things for a bit?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m still not really feeling up to it. But soon, I promise,” you added when a flash of worry danced across his face.

He gave a nod and one final friendly pat on the shoulder, then was off. You went back to staring out the window, now gently sipping on your cocoa. It was still a bit too hot, and it burnt your tongue a little. You knew you should wait until it cooled, but the pain kept you tethered to the earth instead of floating away. You also knew what Loki would say to that so, after a few more sips, you set it down to let it become a more drinkable temperature. As you waited, you let your mind be filled with thoughts of Loki, wondering if he was thinking of you too. Soon, your eyes were drooping shut, and you succumbed to dreams of happier times with your beloved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed much the same, with you pretending to be asleep. Loki knew you were awake at some point, at least, to eat the food he’d brought. Otherwise, he would have flown into a panic that his little mortal was unwell. Or, more unwell than just in an emotional sense, anyway. There was one point where he saw your eyes crack open and look at him as he sat nearby, switching between reading and thinking. You didn’t say anything, though, so neither did he.

“Brother?” Thor said, knocking at the door. “Are you two in there?”

Loki rushed to the door and, opening it, shushed the God of Thunder. He gently closed the door behind him as not to wake you, thinking you may really be asleep now.

“We are, brother,” he whispered. “Why?”

“The team has not seen either of you all day. Is everything alright? Are either of you ill? Or perhaps you’re just having fun in there?” Thor playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, and why are we whispering?”

“Because my beloved is sleeping.” Loki felt a prick of fear in his heart. Maybe he had lost the privilege of calling you his beloved. “We are ok. Relatively.”

“Relatively?”

“Yes. We... We had a fight,” Loki exhaled. “It was not pretty.”

“But you are going to work it out, right?” Thor sighed when Loki said nothing. “Oh, come on, brother. You must talk to them.”

“I will. At some point.”

With some final words of encouragement, Thor let his brother be. Loki took a deep breath and reentered his room. You were sitting up on the couch, twiddling with your thumbs, eyes cast down. He tentatively sat at the end by your feet. Elbows on his knees, he buried his head in his hands.

“Well,” he said to the floor, “are we going to talk about it?”

He felt you flinch at how angry he sounded, while he mentally kicked himself for the same reason. He peeked out from behind his hands, trying to compose himself so he could speak to you in a calm voice.

“I mean,” you said, “if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, and you do not want it?” he snapped, silently cursing himself again.

“Please,” you scoffed, “don’t do anything for my sake.”

Now you were both angry at yourselves, and completely honestly, the other too. When it became clear neither of you was going to say anything else, Loki stood to leave. He spun back around when he heard you mumble something under your breath.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said in a too-sweet voice, making the pet name sound more like a threat or a mockery than anything else. “I did not quite get that. Would you like to speak up?”

“Yeah,” you snarled, this time loud enough for him to hear. “I said, ‘so you’re really just gonna walk out again, huh?’”

“Oh, allow me to apologize. I must have been making myself a martyr again, hmm? Was that not what you said last night? Or perhaps that was just me blowing things out of proportion again?” He looked down at you as a panic flooded every inch of your body. Loki wanted to stop, but his floodgates had been opened. “But I thought that no one cared to listen to me. Again, I do believe those are your words, not mine.”

“That’s not- I didn’t- I’m not-” you struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I didn’t mean that!”

“No? But it is what you said. Perhaps it was that ever condemning Freudian slip of the tongue? Or do you think yourself so special, mortal, that you care? For I know no one else ever has; I did not need you to tell me that,” he spat.

“You know what?” you laughed without mirth. “You’re right, this isn’t what I want.”

Loki knew he’d pushed too far. His voice grew immensely softer as he spoke again. Not in a kind way, but in a way that showed he was afraid.

“And what exactly, do you mean by ‘this’?”

“This, what we’re doing now. I don’t know what it is, but if it’s your way of talking about what’s wrong and working it out, it’s not what I want. I guess you should just go, Loki.”

Loki hated himself. No, that wasn’t strong enough. He loathed himself, utterly and completely. He slammed the door behind him, and immediately sank back against it, falling to the floor. Neither of you heard the other’s sobs over your the sound of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though Monday was only two days after Steve told you it would be the date of Loki’s arrival, it felt like years elapsed in those forty-eight hours. By some miracle that, you thought with a tiny laugh, Loki would have said was thanks to the Norns, you managed to get yourself into a presentable state. Shower? Check. Teeth brushed? Check. Eyes normal and not red from crying? As checked as it could be.

Steve had promised that he’d get Loki to go to your room straight away. You figured if you two were going to have it out again, it should be in private. Though, you were hoping it would go a great deal better than last time. You could only hope that some time and space was all the two of you would need to finally work through this.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the doorknob turned and Loki shuffled in. The door softly clicked shut behind him, and you tried to quell your worry that your conversation would end with him slamming it again. He dropped his bag at his feet, and for a second, the world stopped. You just looked at each other, both too afraid to end the moment of peace.

“I am back,” he gently said, opening his arms to you.

You took a single hesitant step forward before fully launching yourself into his arms. He caught you with surprising grace, and though he seemed unsure of himself, calmly rubbed your back.

“Can we... Can we try again?” you asked, pulling back enough so you could look into his beautiful, blue-green eyes. “The working things out, I mean. Can we try that again?”

“Yes, my darling.” The pet name had returned to something more gentle, holding the usual care and affection it did. “I’d love nothing more.”

Hand in hand, you walked toward the couch. This time you sat with bodies angling towards each other, already starting off on a high note. It made both of you feel the other was much more willing to listen to what you had to say.

“Shall I start?” he asked, cupping your cheek.

“No, I want to go first.” Your hand rested on top of his and you leaned into his touch. “If that’s alright with you?”

“It is. Please, speak your mind, my sweet.”

You took a steadying breath before you began. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I said. I was frustrated, and I lashed out. But that’s no excuse for it. I never in a million years should have said what I did. It was wrong and insensitive. And I do care for you so, so much on so, so many different levels. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that. I will spend every day of the rest of my life reassuring you that I love you, Loki. I love you.”

“I accept your apology, and I love you, too.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but you knew it was from happiness. After all, several tears of the same emotion had fallen down your own cheeks. “Now, it is my turn to say I am sorry. I was unreceptive, pushy, snappy, and cruel. I should not have responded in that manner, and I should have been more open to working through the problem. My insecurities got the better of me, but I promise I will try to keep them at bay. Because I have you, darling, and I love you. And I have no doubt that you do feel the same.”

“I forgive you, too, Loki. I’m ready to put this behind us if you are.”

“Absolutely I am,” he replied, smiling—really smiling—for what felt like the first time in a century. “And, if I may be so bold, I do believe we have a week’s worth of kisses to make up for.”

“The math checks out,” you giggled, leaning in. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to start playing catch up now.”

“It is like you have read my mind.”

You gave him one quick peck on the lips before he pulled you flush against him and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. Maybe it was because he’d been so worried that there wouldn’t be. But, in the end, there was. Because you worked it out. Because you loved each other. Because you were two hearts connected as one in the crazy journey called life. And you’d always find a way to work through your differences. For, deep down, you both knew you were meant to be together, would always find your way back to each other. There was nothing either of you believed more, and you’d never doubt it again.

[wayward-dreamer]

The Right Direction

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Dog walker!Jensen

Pairing: Dog walker!Jensen x Female!Dog walker!Reader

Word count: 2,839 (Wow! I wrote something under 5K lol!)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes the wrong direction can turn out to be the right one.

Warnings: Some swearing, a bunch of cute dogs, fluff.

Created for @spnaubingo

A/N: This is written for @downanddirtydean‘s 500 followers challenge! Prompt is in bold. I hope you like it twin!! Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for being a beta on this! As always, I’d love to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

A wet nose and soft fur were the first things she felt on her hand every morning. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving her as they adjusted to the light in the room. She felt the bed shift and heard the sound of a collar shaking, her smile growing as the furry ball landed in her lap. She stroked her little Corgi’s fluffy hair, kissing the top of his head.

“Morning, Ringo.” She planted another kiss on his head, her hands alternating between squishing his face and running over his light brown and white fluffy coat. “Someone hungry?”

Ringo licked his lips, signalling he was more than ready for breakfast.

“Alright, come on,” she muttered as she gently dropped him down on the floor of her bedroom.

Y/N got up from her bed, laughing as Ringo scurried out of the door ahead of her, stopping to wait impatiently near his bowl. His round behind wiggled, excited to be receiving his breakfast as Y/N picked up the bag of dog food, dropping some into the metal bowl.

“Stay,” she commanded, watching his innocent brown eyes look up at her. Waiting for a few seconds, she smiled. “Eat.”

Ringo gave his lips another lick, bending down and gobbling up a few pieces of dry food at a time. She smiled at him and then went about getting ready for the morning, quickly changing into her sweatpants and oversized sweater, throwing her hair up in a messy bun. By the time she was ready, Ringo was finished eating.

“Alright, shall we go?” she said, bending down in front of him and petting under his chin. She clipped his leash onto his collar, patting him at the same time. “Now, I’m trusting you to be good with the other dogs, so you better listen to me. Okay?”

Ringo gave her a little whine, causing her to lift an eyebrow. “Ringo.”

His paws started to tap excitedly against the floorboards, making Y/N give him a smile. “Good boy,” she said, scratching behind his head and standing up.

She quickly grabbed her keys, phone and wallet, heading out the door of her apartment, and walking down a few flights of stairs, Ringo in tow. She knocked on the door of an apartment, smiling as Mrs. Morris greeted her. She held the leash of her 6-year-old Border Collie, Betty, in her hand and smiled at her.

“Morning, Y/N. How are you?” she asked, as Betty’s tail wagged excitedly when she saw Ringo, more than ready for her walk.

“I’m great, Mrs. Morris. How are you?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” the older woman said, handing her the leash. “Betty’s a little too excited this morning.”

Y/N patted Betty a few times, shaking her head. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

With a goodbye, she walked Betty and Ringo down the last two flights of stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. She held onto the leashes, enjoying the sun but there was as a slight chill against her face on the bright autumn morning. They walked for about ten minutes, picking up more dogs along the way. A Bulldog, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. Y/N walked them into the dog park, knowing how much they loved to run around and play with each other. They were all from the same neighborhood and socially used to each other, making her job much easier. However, Y/N was in desperate need of caffeine, having forgone a cup at home to get the dogs. Making a quick stop at a vendor, she paid for her steaming cup of black coffee and continued to walk them all down the path in the park, trying to find a clear spot to sit down and let them run around.

Y/N kept the dogs in front of her, all of their leashes in one hand, and her drink in the other, trying to get away from unfamiliar pets they hadn’t interacted with yet. As she smiled down at her fur friends for the morning, she basked in the peacefulness of the walk.

Suddenly, Y/N screamed as she collided with another dog walker, a man completely distracted with his phone and not watching what the German Shepherd and Golden Retriever he was walking were doing. Her shoulder got knocked backwards, her arm coming up and spilling her piping hot coffee all down the front of her sweater. She screamed again as the liquid seeped through the material, making contact with  her skin. Thankfully, the sweater she was wearing was thick and she didn’t get severely burnt by the hot beverage.

“Oh my god! I am so, so sorry!” the man apologized, steadying the dog’s leash as he stashed his phone away.

“Sorry?! Watch where you’re going next time, you asshole!” she yelled, using her free hand to wipe the front of her sweater with her sleeve. She hadn’t even looked up at the man yet, focusing on cleaning herself. Her ever loyal companion, Ringo growled at the other dogs, who were slightly bigger than him and were growling back.

“Ringo, it’s okay,” Y/N said, calmly as she pulled lightly on all the leashes, moving the animals  behind her legs. They were all starting to bark, getting riled up by the man’s German Shepherd and Golden Retriever.

“I really am sorry,” the man said, as he pulled the dog he was walking back, “He gets really excited when he comes here, and I was trying to message someone-”

“Well maybe don’t do that,” she grumbled, soaking up the coffee with her sleeve as best as she could. She finally looked up, her eyes blinking as she took in the guy who bumped into her. He was incredibly gorgeous, with green eyes that looked guilty and soft and plump lips that he was biting into. She looked like an absolute mess in her casual attire, and here he was, towering over her and looking like a male model in a dog park.

“Please let me buy you another,” he said, sheepishly as he pointed to her shirt.

She shook her head, a little stunned by the good-looking man in front of her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel terrible,” he muttered, frowning as he gestured to the German Shepherd “He pulled suddenly while I was texting. It’s no excuse, I know, but he must’ve gotten excited when he saw your dogs.”

“It’s really okay,” Y/N reassured him. She felt awful for yelling at him now that she saw how apologetic he was, “They’re not mine. I’m a dog walker. Only the Corgi belongs to me.”

“I am too, but this guy is mine,” he smiled, gesturing to the German Shepherd next to him, who was now sitting and looking up at Y/N. “His name’s Jagger.”

“Jagger? As in Mick?” she asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. He patted the top of the Golden Retriever’s head, smiling. “This is Astro. Neighbor’s kid is a big Jetsons fan.”

Y/N laughed, gesturing to her best friend in the whole world, “This is Ringo.”

“As in Starr?” he asked, smirking.

She laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. The Border is Betty, the Bulldog is Jackson, the Pom is Mimi, and the Chihuahua is Coco.”

“Ringo and Jagger… we sure know how to pick some good names,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling back at him. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“I really feel awful about this,” he muttered, frowning. “Can I make it up to you some time?”

She bit her lip, smiling as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” She would have to think about it, considering they had just met, and it wasn’t exactly the greatest first meeting.

“I’m Jensen, by the way.” He offered his hand, smiling softly at her. She took it in hers and felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter.

“Y/N,” she said, smiling back at him. She looked down when she felt a wet nose against her hand, seeing Jagger nudging at her hand. She crouched down and patted him down, scratching behind his ears. The dogs tried to move around her to get to him, but she kept nudging them away, lightly. He whined when she stood up, pulling on his leash as he tried to follow her.

“Jagger, no. We gotta go, man,” Jensen told the dog, steering him in the other direction with Astro in tow.

With one last look at the man who she was totally caught off guard by, Y/N led the dogs away, unfortunately having to cut their walk short.  Jensen smiled as he turned and watched her walk away, hoping that he would see her again. He felt terrible and just hoped he had another shot to get to talk to Y/N. He had seen her from across the park before the collision happened. She was beautiful and despite the horrible circumstance, the moment their eyes met he knew he was done for.

They always say dogs have the best instinct about people, and Jensen was happy to know that Y/N was a good person according to Jagger’s eagerness to go with her. He just hoped there would be no hot coffee in the way of him getting to talk to her the next time he saw her.

A few days had passed since the incident in the park. Y/N was back there again, this time only with Ringo, and it was just after lunch. She handed in her article for the week, meeting her deadline a day early and decided to take her fluff ball for a run around in the dog park once she had submitted the article to her editor. She laughed as he ran circles around her on the grass, a blur of brown and white fur. As he continued to run, Y/N’s attention was suddenly taken away from him, as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and smiled, seeing the handsome dog walker who bumped into her a few days ago, a white cup in one hand, the leash to his beautiful German Shepherd in the other.

“A peace offering?” he stated.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, shaking her head.

He held out the cup insistently, smiling when she took it. “Yes, I did.”

She held her palm out, allowing the dog to come near her. The animal sniffed her a few times and licked her hand.  Y/N instantly moved her hand behind his ears to pet him. “He’s gorgeous.” As is his owner she thought to herself as she looked at Jensen, “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” Jensen told her, smirking. “Still acts like a puppy sometimes, though.”

“Aren’t they always a puppy no matter how big they get?” she asked, chuckling. Jagger started nudging against Y/N, wanting her to play with him. Jensen smiled, glad that his dog approved of her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down as Ringo came running to her, interested to see who her new friend was. Ringo hopped excitedly towards Jagger, not intimidated by the size difference between them at all.

“Hey buddy, you remember Jagger?” she asked, smiling brightly. She crouched down, calming him slightly as Jagger began to growl. Jensen got down to the dog’s level, holding him back slightly.

“Hey, behave,” Jensen commanded.

Comforting both of the dogs, Jensen let Jagger move forward a little first. He sniffed Ringo as Y/N let him go slightly too, to do the same. They tried to figure each other out, and one lick from Jagger had Ringo running off, turning to see if he would follow. Jensen let him off the leash, watching as he ran off, both of them play- fighting as they rolled over on the grass. Y/N and Jensen stood back, watching their dogs become fast friends.

“He doesn’t take to small dogs so quickly,” Jensen remarked as he watched his German Shepherd play with the small Corgi.

“Ringo loves every dog he comes across,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched them play. “So, I’m glad he found another friend.”

“Me too,” he muttered, smiling. “Jagger’s been lonely. I keep thinking I should get another one just so he doesn’t feel it anymore.”

“Well, until you do… he’s welcome to play with Ringo,” she stated, smiling at the gorgeous man next to her. The butterflies had returned, and she was finding it hard to keep her cool around him.

“Thanks.” Jensen smiled back at her, trying not to hold eye contact with her for longer than necessary, suddenly nervous to be near to her again.

After that afternoon, Jensen and Y/N had a standing meeting every Thursday afternoon in the dog park. As Jagger and Ringo played together, Y/N and Jensen would talk about everything they could before the dogs exhausted themselves. They discussed how they got the dogs, what they did for a living apart from dog walking (Jensen told her he worked at a brewery and Y/N told him she wrote for the paper), their favourite movies, books, music and more. By the fourth meeting, Y/N was hoping that he would ask her out on an official date. She knew she couldn’t be the only one feeling an attraction between them and wished more than anything that he would pluck up the courage and ask her. Maybe she would have to if he didn’t, but that was something she had never done before.

On the day of their usual meeting, Y/N and Jensen strolled the length of the park, walking Jagger and Ringo side by side. Every now and then, they would turn and smile at each other, as Jensen kept telling himself to open his mouth and ask her out on a date. Letting the dogs off their leashes, the owners watched on as they did every week, the dogs now absolute best friends. A brown leaf fell from the tree branch above Jensen and Y/N, landing on her nose and getting stuck there. Jensen laughed as he leaned over, using his thumb and forefinger to remove it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. Their bodies were close, both of them in slightly warmer clothes now that the weather was turning.

“No problem,” he mumbled, smiling. He looked out ahead at the park, worrying his lip as he thought about how to approach the subject of asking her on a date. “Okay, so…”

“What’s up?” she asked,  her stomach fluttering at the thought that the moment had finally arrived.

“I, uh… I really like you, Y/N,” he told her, his smile becoming wider as he turned to her.

“I really like you too, Jensen,” she said, beaming up at him.

He sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay, so then… I would love to- I mean that is if you want to, I really want to take you on a non-dog park date.” Dear Lord, this isn’t going well he told himself as he cringed at his bad attempt to ask her out.

“You know…” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. “Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

Jensen chuckled nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling as she winked.

A moment passed as they continued to look at each other. Jensen backtracked, a little more confident this time.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at her. “Y/N, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiled up at him, finding him so adorable in that moment. “Yes.”

The first date turned into a second. The second into a third. They would meet up in the dog park, some days with Jagger and Ringo, and others with all the others they would walk on a regular basis. With huddles of dogs of different breeds, they walked closer and closer to each other, stealing kisses and loving looks.

Dates and dog walking turned into getting down on one knee, the ring box clipped to Ringo’s collar as Jensen asked Y/N if she wanted to spend her life with him, with Jagger in tow.

They married in a small ceremony, with Jagger and Ringo at their feet, more than happy to be best fur friends forever.

And eventually… the news of an addition to their little family came, with Jensen and Y/N completely over the moon with the dogs getting a human brother or sister.

Y/N sat on the couch, smiling as she patted Jagger and Ringo’s heads, both of them sitting on either side of her, their noses close to her growing belly. Jensen walked in, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, settling into the couch next her, putting Ringo’s body over his legs. Y/N turned to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly as he turned to her.

They say that dogs have great instinct.

And for that, Jensen and Y/N would always be grateful to have two fur companions that brought them into each other’s lives.

-x-

If you’re crossed out, Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @superaveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester

[alreadyblondenow]

I’ll never leave again

Yuta x reader // SMUT, ANGST, fluff? Summary: A Japanese transferee added color to your already colorful and perfect life and you both find true love as you help him with his battle against drugs.   Word Count: 7k Warnings: MAJOR DRUG USES, wearing, explicit mature themes, mentions of alcohol, blood, hospital, rehab, unprotected sex, mentions of other idols Note: IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE WHEN IT COMES TO DRUGS, PLEASE CLICK AWAY. THANK YOU. this fic is 100% came from my imagination, unlike my other works that are inspired from true events and personal experiences, this fic is 100% made up. 

Spaced out and really not in the mood to socialise, you were busy thinking how you’re going to break things off with your boyfriend Jaehyun. The perfect captain of the cheerleading squad and the handsome captain of the basketball team, together and being high school sweethearts is kind of getting old to you. And by getting old you mean you don’t love Jaehyun anymore. Not that he cheated on you or he treated you badly, no Jaehyun’s a great guy. It’s just that maybe he is not what your heart wants anymore.

It’s hard to explain something you cant even understand. You can’t actually pin point when did you start forcing yourself to see Jaehyun and why is this happening. “I can’t just stage a cheating scenario, that’s not me. I think Jaehyun deserves the truth” thats your response when Yeeun suggests to stage a cheating act where Jaehyun will see some random dude in your bed. “He will not buy it. Because he knew I can’t cheat” you added making Yeeun more frustrated.

To finish all your problems regarding breaking up with Jaehyun, you decided to just tell him the truth. He believed everything you said. “I felt it. Your kisses became different” Jaehyun said after you explained your part, you were glad that the breakup was mutual.

Now that you’re on your senior year, you wanted to focus on studying and trying new things. You gave up cheerleading and entrusting the squad to Yeeun. Giving up cheerleading was not a problem even though literally all of your friends are part of the squad, but they understand you. You’re just following your heart. Cheerleading is soon replaced by art, your second passion next to dancing and you couldn’t be more happier.

Everything was going smooth, having good grades, self love, and more art. Although, people in school still see you as this popular cheerleader who used to be with the school star player, you’re having a hard time making new friends. Until you met Nakamoto Yuta. A Japanese transferee who’s always quiet, private and scary because he had a lot of piercings. Not to you of course, you never see him that way. You met at the football field while you were having a quick sketch of the sunset with all your coloring materials just after a long day at school. “You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend” he said peaking from the back bleacher, you turned around to check who it is.

“I’m Yuta by the way, we have the same art class” he’s a little shy and awkward, but nice enough to introduce himself first. You knew you go to the same art class, actually he is quite an artist. He can be top of the class if only he submits his works.

“Hi, I’m y/n” you smiled at him offering a hand shake but you realised your hand is dirty because of the oil pastel. “We can fist bump instead” you suggest and he let out a small laugh. He looks beautiful under the perfect orange light from the sunset, his skin is unbelievably white and flawless, he looks unreal and you can’t stop staring.

“So...” he snapped out of you, “it’s nice to me you y/n. I hope you take my advice” you nod and waved goodbye as he leaves you alone with your drawing session. Your heart is beating so fast and you don’t know why but one things for sure, you find Yuta attractive. Really attractive.

The next day, you made sure to buy soft pastels and it did made your life easier. You wanted to thanked him but he didn’t come to school for two days. It really is useful to you, it made you work faster and easier, you couldn’t stop drawing and filling your sketchbook with colors.

After three days, he made his appearance again in school and he looked like shit. Maybe he got sick? That’s why he haven’t been showing up. Whatever the reason is, it made you shy to talk to him and tell him all about the things you already create with colors that he recommended. But destiny was being a little too friendly, he caught you again sketching your heart out at the bleachers.

“You work fast” he came out of nowhere again.

“Yes! Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but you seem not well I couldn’t bother you” he smiled at you like there’s nothing wrong, “If you want, I could show you some of mine, a- at home if you want” you noticed he’s being friendly and who are you to refuse.

Yuta brought you to his house, just five streets from your home. Turns out Yuta is rich... and alone, he lives with his Japanese butler, Ruka. “My family is in Japan if you’re wondering” he tells more information about him while you two walk upstairs to his room. The house is simple but it was too spacious, it feels lonely and cold but you kept that thought to yourself. Good thing Yuta’s room is full of colors, different kind of masterpiece are put up on his wall, lots and lots of drawing and coloring materials neatly stacked on his working table, and a beautiful view of the town from his window.

“Uhm, if you need something from my stuff I’ll gladly give it to you” still amazed by what you’re seeing right now, all you want to do is look at all of his works. “Wow - that’s uhm, too much but I’m happy you can introduce me to a lot of art materials” you can’t hide your excitement, everything in his desks looks new to your eyes and you can’t help but ask questions about different materials. ‘What’s this for?’ ‘How do you use this?’

Not to mention you’ve been praising his works for almost half an hour already. He’s happy that you find him as a great artist and that you’re willing to be friends with him, seeing you in his room gives him hope. Ruka knocked at Yuta’s door and invited you to have dinner with them, you didn’t notice it’s already dark and you definitely need to go home already. But you didn’t want to leave Yuta yet, “Sure. I’d love to”

Even the smell of their freshly cooked dinner is new to you, since their both Japanese they only eat Japanese food everyday. “I hope you like Japanese food, I asked him to order takeout but Ruka insists. Told me you should try his cooking” he whispers beside you while Ruka is busy preparing the table. “It’s fine, I don’t get to eat Japanese food always so I don’t mind” you smiled to Yuta, taking away his worries.

The food was delicious, and the dinner table was full of laughter and stories from Ruka. They were both exchanging stories, telling you too much information you don’t need to know, but they tell you anyway. You found out that Yuta plays soccer and he’s a really good player, he’s an impulsive buyer when it comes to his art materials and your favorite information for the night, Yuta has seventeen piercings. The three of you laughed and laughed the whole dinner time while enjoying the delicious Udon and a lot of deep fried seafood.

Later that night Yuta walked you home and endlessly thanked you for spending time with him. “Everything that happened today is so random, but I could get used to this” you said, secretly hoping you could spend some more time with him. “This is my house. I would normally invite you to come in, but its pretty late - which reminds me” your voice and your hands were shaking, pretty sure you’re blushing too. “We have this thing every Friday. Me and my family- uhh, just meet me here at 7?” How brave of you to ask.

If Yuta could only shout and scream from happiness he would, instead he just gave you a nod and a sweet smile before he waved goodbye to you. “See you tomorrow” he shouts before you get inside.

There’s no way of hiding it, you have a crush on Yuta. And you cant ruin this wonderful friendship by being obvious, you told yourself. The next day you made an effort to look cute, “so much for not being obvious” you talk to yourself through the mirror. As you get on with your day, you can’t stop thinking how Yuta is a complete charmer and a really nice guy. Gentleman enough to walk you home in the middle of the night and smiling so sweetly before he leaves.

Yuta on the other hand, has been asking about you to his friends. It’s either they tell him that you’re smart, pretty and popular or they tell him that you are the former captain of the squad. No one told him the things that he single handedly found out about you. In Yuta’s eyes you’re this simple girl that has her life all planned out already. He understood the whole popularity thing because whats not to love about you?

Hiding his excitement, he was pretty early but you told him it’s perfectly fine. Your family adored Yuta, they were all talking nonstop the whole night asking questions about Japan. Which made you worry actually, what if Yuta was hurting and he misses his family or miss Japan in general. Yuta seemed to enjoy everyone’s company, at least that’s what you think and you could only hope that he’s not faking it.

“Sorry, this is the least I can do. The dinner last night was so great, I wanted to invite you over” you brought him to your room so you could have some privacy. Which is not normal. The last guy you brought to your room was Jaehyun, and that happened two years ago.

He was busy looking around your room with an amused smile, looking at the pictures taken from crazy parties, cheerleading competitions, and basically every important event of your life. Yuta let out a small laugh when he saw your cheerleading uniform framed and hanged on your wall.

“What’s so funny about it?” you giggle while you both look at the framed uniform.

“I’ve never seen something like this before, I guess I’m amazed” to be honest he really is amazed that your uniform became something like a trophy that you display around your room. “I bet you look good wearing it” he was smiling while looking at you when he said that. Suddenly the room became hot.  

“You should smile more often, your smile is nice” to divert the attention, of course you praised him again.

“If you think my smile is beautiful, you should’ve seen yours” there’s no getting away with that so you just accepted it.

On the following days, you’ve been spending more time with Yuta talking, drawing and getting to know each other more. And the more you spend time with him, your feelings grow and grow. In a matter of weeks, you’re sure you’ve completely fallen in love with him.

He became your friend, in fact your only friend since you left cheerleading. Every friend of yours is either a cheerleader or jock, given that they’re all athletes, they don’t have time for you anymore. That’s why you think Yuta is a life saver.

Not long ago, you discovered about Yuta’s drug addiction. Weed, Meth, Heroin, all kinds. Maybe that’s why sometimes he’s so spaced out and he miss school a lot. “Yuta’s parents sent him here because of his drug addiction, only he can help himself” Ruka explained to you over coffee while Yuta is out doing whatever he’s doing. Even though he has problems, you still stick with him. He’s still a nice guy who loves his art, the same nice guy your family adored. With or without drugs.

One night, you were playing Jenga with him on his bedroom floor with a few bottle of beers and snacks on the side. “I’m going to win, I’m good at this” he totally loves teasing you whenever you two get competitive with each other. “You wish. Okay my turn” you said after drinking your beer in one down, but the Jenga tower fell off and Yuta laughed so hard he has tears on his eyes. He saw your face completely pissed off as you open another beer and building the tower again for another game.

“Who’s Jaehyun?” you were surprised at his question, something a student from your school wouldn’t dare ask because the whole school knows him.

“Oh right, you’re a transferee” he sat up and sat closer to you, legs crossed and both arms are supporting him on the floor “Uhm. He’s my ex. We’ve been together for two years? I think. And then I broke with him, over the summer because I don’t love him anymore - the breakup was mutual, if you’re wondering” He nods, and ready to ask you another question.

“Do you like someone now?” he reached for your hand which made you stop building the tower and intertwined it with his. You wonder why he’s suddenly so bold and confident. You nod, completely speechless.

“Is it me?” Yuta bravely asks, and you nod without hesitation.

He reached for your lips and kissed you gently, cupping your face as his thumb swipes on your cheeks admiring your beauty. Time stopped the moment you touch lips and you feel the happiness in your stomach balls up, ready to explode.

“This is probably wrong”

And suddenly that happiness you felt was replaced by confusion. He pull away from your touch leaving you so confused and still in shock. “What’s so wrong about this?” you asked him while getting him to look you in the eyes, tugging his arm so he wont’s get too far.

“I’m a drug addict y/n. You can’t be with someone like me. Cliché as it sounds but, I’m scared to ruin your life. You’re this perfect person who I happen to meet at football field and you’re just nice enough to welcome me in your life”

He looks frustrated and confused as you are but you knew damn well that meeting him is something you don’t regret. “You don’t get to push me away just because you decided to be honest with your feelings and somehow decided to be a coward afterwards” it wasn’t easy to stay calm but you tried so hard, your grip on his hand was becoming tighter and he noticed it. “I like you! And you make me happy. You’re the one who put color in my life, well literally and figuratively. But my point is, don’t throw us away” you decided to be brave and kissed him again. This time, hungrier and full of need. You sat on his lap and pushed him down slowly all the way to the floor. Hands all over each other, switching positions and rolling on the floor without stopping the kiss.

It was not a surprise for everyone when you went public, they already foresee what’s going on between you two. Your family still adored Yuta just like how they adored him from the first time they met him. The whole popularity problem in school completely changed in a good way because of Yuta. More people from school are talking to you now, they’re not scared or shy to be friends with you anymore because Yuta somehow changed everyone’s perspective. With Yuta you’re this normal person who’s happy to be with his boyfriend.

Happy days are nothing but pure laughter and great memories with Yuta. Movie night with Yuta and Ruka with a bunch of Japanese treats on the side is your new Friday night schedule. And inviting Yuta and Ruka for family dinner during special occasions has been a thing that made Yuta happy. He told you he’s a sucker for spending time with family but his family is in Japan and he can’t go home until he’s clean. That was the night you decided that you will never leave Yuta’s side.  

Yuta is this bright color that made your life even more colorful. He is this man, full of surprises and definitely no dull moment. You learned how to take care of him in your own ways without making him feel sorry for himself. Vulnerable, important and ordinary, that’s what he made you feel. And by ordinary, you mean no social pressure from the people around you. Just two normal people who fell in love in a normal way. Sometimes, situations can be a handful but it was never a problem for the both of you. Yes he has drug issues but for you, Yuta deserves to be loved. And no one can stop you from loving him.

Your love for each other grew and grew until you reach being intimate with each other.

It was raining hard and the wind was strong, you decided to stay over at Yuta’s house. Already washed up and fresh, you wait for your boyfriend in his bed as he turned off the lights in his room and replaced it with scented candles.

“You look comfortable there” he giggle as he crawls in bed and sat beside you leaning on his headboard. It’s chilly and cold in Yuta’s room, you cant help but be closer to him. Closer as possible.

“You like that?” You hum and nod with eyes closed to answer him. Surprisingly, he kissed you and your eyes opened only to see Yuta’s handsome face close to yours. The kiss was slow and you were both taking time savouring this quiet memory. It went on like that for some time, until the kiss became wet and needy. He hungrily kissed you bitting and licking your lips. Hands creeping just under your shirt, all the way to your clothed boobs and skilfully unclasps your bra. Gently kneading your right boob and doing a circular motion on your nipple.  

“We’ve never gone this far” you said as you catch your breath, and went back to kissing him a little bit slowly this time.

“Do you think its time?” He managed to ask you in between those soft kisses, giving you sweet pecks. You nod excitedly. “Sit between my legs” you followed what he told you, completely clueless on what he’s going to do next.

“Spread your legs wide” it suddenly became hotter as you spread your legs nervously. Your head is resting on his shoulder, back against his chest, heart beating so fast as you wait for his next move. “Yuta, can you kiss me?” your voice cracked but he just smiled, and shook his head. “Not until you remove your shorts and panties” and so you did. Hurriedly removing your thin shorts and laced panties, throwing them on the floor.

The moment his finger had contact with your wet slit you gasp and grabbed his shoulder gripping it tightly as you moan. You feel like this is new to you but it isn’t, of course you’re not a virgin anymore and Jaehyun did a fair share on that. “Yuta- Ah! Baby I’m almost there” with heavy breaths and sharp gasps, you warn him and at the same time stopping yourself from cumming too early.

“Wider” he said so calmly, you followed spreading your legs wider. Fingers drilling a little harder than before and you finally let go. Shivering and catching your breath, eyelids already heavy. He licks your parted mouth as you enjoy your high, filthy but fucking hot. His breath smells like mint.

“You seem so calm the whole time you were finger fucking me” with all the energy left in your body, you went back to laying on his side.

“Yeah well my cock isn’t” he kissed you on the forehead and tells you, “i love you, you sound beautiful the whole time. I was busy listening to you”

You have something on your mind right now that you’re somehow scared to ask because he might refuse, “I have a question” you sat up and sat on his lap. Your legs and pussy are still exposed, and you’re making Yuta’s cock even more hard. “Why did you not ever asked me to have sex with you?”

“Well will you have sex with me baby?” Just like that, straightforward and calm like the Yuta you know. You were both giggling like little kids for some time while waiting for your answer. It’s not that you don’t want to but you were just shy to say your answer out loud.

“You’re shy, aren’t you?” of course he knew you’re being shy. He’s your boyfriend who happens to know everything about you. “Well, I’m horny” he sat up to reach your lips, kissing you gently but enough to prove that he is horny. Slowly his kisses went to your neck, making you moan softly. But you pull away not telling him anything. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking right. Please don’t be mad-“

To his surprise, you removed your shirt and your unclasped bra. Now you’re fully naked on top of your boyfriend, “It’s not fair that I’m the only ones naked here, baby” you grab the end of his shirt and helped him to removed it. “You scared me” he managed to tell you in between hungry kisses, “you’re so in trouble” he added and pushed you on the mattress.

Laughing like a little girl, while Yuta is busy kissing your naked body beneath him. Your head is dangling on the edge of the bed seeing his room upside down. His cock is poking your thigh the moment he’s on top of you naked, and you’re positive that it made you nervous. “Baby, I think your cock wont fit me” your boyfriend was amused by what you just said, “It will” is the only response he said before licking your nipples and sucking them gently. He grabbed your right leg putting it on his shoulder and kneeled in between your legs, lining his cock in your entrance.

Slowly he pushed his cock inside you making you bite your hand and close your eyes to stop yourself from moaning too loud. “See? it fits” Yuta is doing the opposite, he’s groaning with every thrust he give you letting out sounds you didn’t know he can make. Whimpering like a little boy beside your neck, you can hear him clearly. As his pace goes faster you were losing your mind at how good he fucks you for the first time.

“Don’t fucking stop” with heavy breath and gasp, you reached for his neck and encircled your arms around him. Legs spreading wider for him, moans becoming a little bit louder. The bed is shaking you’re sure Ruka can hear you both.

“Y/n, if you don’t stop moaning like that- I swear” his thrust became quicker and sharper leaving you speechless. Your pussy clenched the whole time trying to fight the sensation and trying so hard not to be on edge yet. But it’s a battle you can’t win, Yuta is so good at making you let go. You didn’t say that you were cumming but he can tell because your legs were already shaking and you were grabbing everything you can on bed and gripping it a little too hard. He pulls out and pumped his cock in front of you making his cum land perfectly on your boobs. Just the sight of his cum on your beautiful body, makes him hard again.

You grabbed him with both hands through the neck, and pull him on your chest kissing him a little too harsh. Filthy as it looks but you don’t care. You spread your legs again and put a hand in between the two of you and grabbed his hard cock. Pushing it inside you again, he let you do what you want. In a matter of seconds, he’s inside you again.

“I was disappointed, you didn’t cum inside me” you pout and he thrust again without a single word making your head roll back again, smiling like a fool because you got want you want. Yuta fucked you again, but this time rougher and he get to cum inside you.  

“Sorry if I didn’t cum inside you earlier” he kissed your forehead while you calm down from your orgasm. You still can’t talk and you’re still catching your breath, all you can do is smile as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.

And that was the start of having sex with Yuta with every chance you get. Making out in your room that leads to sex before doing homework. Watching the sunset through his window still naked and all over each other. Sex was different with Yuta, it was damn wild and filthy but full of love. Something you never felt before.

Whenever you’re busy working on something in the art room and Yuta needed to fetch you there, you make out with him for some time because he missed you already. Even though anyone can just enter and catch you two, he never cared.

If you’re not allowed to go out on a Friday night, he will sneak up to your room through your open window while you were sleeping and kiss you quietly until you wake up. You love having quiet sex with Yuta in your room because its funny how you two try to stop moaning too loud. On top of that, he needed to stop himself from fucking you too hard and remind him to go slow from time to time.  

Your fear of giving him a blowjob because you’re not that confident with it completely changed when one day you were just so hungry for his cock and you went down on your knees and gave him a blowjob for the first time. That’s during lunch and you brought him to the locker room where you and Jaehyun used to make out before practice. To your surprise Yuta came three times in your mouth, for some reason he loved it. From there on he always ask you for a blowjob and you always gladly give him what he wants.

If there are days with him that are nothing but pure happiness, of course there are days that are almost impossible to bare. All you can do is be strong and keep your patience long, remind yourself that you love Yuta no matter what happens. You really don’t know where it all started, or what triggered him to go back on drugs but you noticed he’s been busy and he’s not telling you the whole truth whenever you ask him ‘what’s up?’

After spending six beautiful months together, suddenly Yuta is gone again for days. He’s been missing a lot again and that can only mean he’s out somewhere taking drugs or he’s taking drugs and he’s in trouble. When you came to his house, Ruka was stopping you from entering the house but you insist.

“What is it Ruka?” you know he’s hiding something from you and Yuta is inside. So you shout from the outside, forcing Yuta to come out. He did. Limping and face all beat up. You’re not mad or disappointed, you were simply worried about him. “He got home this morning, and he’s still high from drugs. I don’t think this is a great time y/n.”

You look at each other’s eyes from a far, both hurt but yours is not physical. Broken heart, that’s what pains you. It’s hard to step away from his house, looking in his eyes full of hurt. Deep down you know he wanted to hug your kiss but he can’t because he can’t fucking move and he’s too humiliated.

What you saw today was too much and you needed a breather. It’s good that its Friday, you can be with your friends and somehow divert your mind. “People can get beaten up with a lot of reasons specially when drugs is involved” Johnny says while drinking his beer and playing beer pong with the others. “Don’t think about it too much, he’s going to be okay” Yeeun shouts from another side of the table. All of your friends were supportive with the relationship you have with Yuta even though they know about his drug problems. You spent days being with your friends while Yuta is recovering and there’s not a day where you don’t check up on him.

A week passed already and theres still no sign of Yuta. You can’t just show up in front of his house again, you didn’t want to disturb his recovery. Besides, school works are pilling up you need to focus studying and finishing some of the requirements. Your mind is buried into Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and you didn’t notice you passed out. When you woke up, you found Yuta beside you all snuggled up and waiting for you to open your eyes.

“Am I dreaming?” you closed your eyes and opened them again, no you’re not dreaming. He smile a little, you figure he’s still in pain. “Are you alright now? How did you get in?” you sat up to check his face and his arm. “I’m alright, I just needed to see you. I can’t take it anymore. I missed you so much” he reached for your hands and kissed your knuckles. He pats the mattress telling you to come lay with him in bed, and you did. Fingers intertwined and bodies close to each other, just how you like it.

“Why do you stay with me? You’re this perfect girl that fell in love with an addict”

For some reason you were scared of how he asked you that question. It almost felt like he’s going to leave you. There was a minute of complete silence before you answer him, “Because thats what you do if u love someone. You don’t give up on them. And just so you know I love you, and Im in love with you”

He chuckled but still careful not to overdo it because of the bruises in his face, “I know. I know that all too well” he placed his hand just above your jaw, and left a kiss on your forehead. “I’m trying to be better for you so I wont have to leave you eventually and go to fucking rehab. I can do this right?” hearing Yuta say that made you realise you were wrong about him wanting to leave you. He doesn’t want to leave, he wanted to be better for you. You kissed him on the lips pouring everything from the past couple of weeks in it. The kiss was wet but it wasn’t because of spit, but because of tears.  

After what happened, he tried being clean but he just ends up taking drugs over and over again. There was a time that you caught him taking cocaine in his bathroom and he shut the door with a loud slam and told you to go home. Seeing him do things like that pains you to the core. He never wanted to hurt you like this, he never pushed you away because deep down he wanted to be better and if that happens he wants you to be on his side.

A week before prom, Yuta made sure he’s clean and he promised you he will never ruin prom night for you. As a way of celebrating for being fourteen days clean and spending time with each other, you had sex after a wonderful night spent with Yuta.

“Fuck I missed being inside you” he whispers behind your ear while his fucking you with a steady pace. As always, the way he fucks you can make you lose your mind and smile like a fool while moaning and gasping at the same time. You closed your eyes as you let go of the feeling and cum for the first time tonight, the moment you open your eyes you see Yuta’s eyes closed completely blown by the frenzy on being on edge. And bleeding.

His nose is bleeding uncontrollably.

“Baby- you need to stop” opening his eyes to ask if he hurt you, he saw the blood on your boobs, completely panicking. “Did I do this to you baby- where does it hurt?” you were crying already, not talking to him as you quickly wore your clothes and screamed for help, calling Ruka as loud as you can.

Yuta was completely clueless but his head was spinning and he feels so weak suddenly. “Baby! Don’t close your eyes, you can die-  please stay with me” you were practically slapping his face to keep him awake as you help him wear his pants.

Everything happened so fast the moment you see his nose bleeding nonstop. You and Ruka rushed him to the hospital as quickly as you can. You were alone at the waiting lounge as Ruka takes care of everything Yuta needs to stay in the hospital.

All of your friends weren’t picking up because maybe they’re sleeping and tired from practice. But one person picked up and made his way to the hospital and brought you some clothes as soon as he can.

“I’m sorry Jaehyun, I didn’t know anyone else to call. I cant just simply call my family” Jaehyun was holding you close and comforting you as you cry for a whole hour. After changing to clean clothes, Ruka called you in to talk to Yuta. While Jaehyun is hesitating to come with you,  “Jae, come on its okay. He’ll be happy to see you”  

You were happy to see Yuta completely awake and smiling once you opened the door and entered the room with Jaehyun. You sat beside Yuta and kissed him on the forehead, “the sex was so good, you made me bleed” he joked around making all three of you laugh and you tear up again. “What’s happening to you?” you weren’t sure you wanted to know but you do know it’s nothing good.

“I’m fine baby, no need to worry” of course he will not tell you what’s going on because he didn’t want to make you worry. “Thank you Jaehyun. For being with her” Jaehyun nods at him and pats Yuta’s arm.

Suddenly your excitement for prom is replaced with worries for Yuta’s health. He needs to stay in the hospital for a week, and that covers prom. “We’re still on for prom right?” you were laying with him on the hospital bed as he shower you with kisses. If there’s anything he hates more than anything, that is making you disappointed. “Of course” you kissed him back, making him blush. “Can’t wait to see you crowed, Prom Queen” even though that’s not important to you anymore, you just nod and rolled your eyes on him.

He did got out from the hospital a day before prom, leaving him with only a day to rest. Ruka got him a nice tux that fits him really well, and you on the other hand tried to forget things that happened last week that completely ruined your prom excitement.

After working so hard on your hair and makeup, you finished getting ready just in time for your friends to pick you up. But Yuta is not yet here, when he’s supposed to be here already an hour before your friends arrived. “I think you guys should go, I’ll wait for him a little longer. I’ll see you there, okay?” you wave goodbye to your friends as you wait for Yuta on your porch.

You called Ruka to ask about Yuta, hoping maybe he just got problems with his tux. “Hey, Ruka uhm, is Yuta still there?” his answer broke your heart. The excitement was replaced with worries again, you called Yuta’s phone a hundred times but he never picks up.

A car parked in front of your house, hoping it’s Yuta. But it’s not, it’s Jaehyun. He drove to your house because he was worried, “What’s happening?” he worriedly asked. You were still trying to call Yuta’s phone, still no answer.

“Come one y/n, I’ll take you to prom” Jaehyun offered, but as much as you wanted to accept his offer Yuta’s excitement from the other day, flashed in your mind and you know you can’t go.

“I can’t Jae, thank you and I know you mean nothing but kindness. I’ll wait for Yuta here, he will get hurt if I go without him” Jaehyun didn’t really want to leave you but you made your choice.

The moment Jaehyun left, your tears finally fall. You were crying when your mom gave you a blanket and invited you to go wait for him inside. “I’m fine, thanks for the blanket” you were so hurt to even move. And you’re not hurt because he ditched you to prom, you’re hurt because you can’t reach him and you’re worried for him. A lot of things may have happened to him and that’s what worries you.

A week later, Ruka met you after school and told you that Yuta is finishing high school through home study under your school’s supervision. “He’s still part of the school, I’ll convince him to attend graduation. But,” something bad is about to happen, you thought.  “he wanted me tell you that, he’s breaking up with you” and that’s it. You burst into tears after hearing the bad news. It was so hard to breath, hearing those words from Ruka and not directly from Yuta. But you trust Yuta’s decision and maybe it’s for the best. With a heavy heart, you hugged Ruka goodbye and left without another word.

You tried putting up a big smile during graduation and hugging everyone you knew all throughout high school, except for one important person. A week after graduation, you left for college. Still with a heavy heart but you wanted to move on and have a fresh start.  

Ten years later

It’s impossible to forget your first love specially if that someone made an impact to your life. You’re sitting on the very spot where you met Yuta remembering how you were charmed by his smile. Mouthing the exact same words he told you before introducing himself first, ‘You should try using soft pastels, they’re more easier to blend’ smiling after you realised you’re completely a fool for still dwelling from the past.

You shrug it of and decided to go back to your high school reunion, maybe people are already looking for you. You stood up from the bleacher, “hi” and you almost fell from where you were standing and the person in front of you is to blame.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry” you told the man that it’s okay and you should get going, not even bothering to look who he might be. It’s weird that the man isn’t letting go of your hand, “Excuse me. I need my hand-“ your heart beats fast like the moment you first saw him. Nothings changed that’s for sure, except his hair color.

“Yuta” your eyes were full of tears but you were smiling the whole time. He pulled you in for a tight hug, holding you close like how he used to. It feels like a dream, you thought. A dream that you never want to end. Catching up with lost time, you spend the night with him forgetting about the high school reunion and watching over the same blue sky you used to look at years and years ago from his room.

He’s now an owner of a popular art gallery in Japan, which you happened to know about. “No way! You own that place, I went there just last year for work” he nods, and told you he knew. And he can’t believe you’re standing inside his art gallery. “I got scared. That’s why I didn’t talked to you” then you remember, on that day you were supposed to meet the owner of the gallery, “That’s why we talked to your secretary instead of the owner… which is you” he was nodding the whole time like a fool. It’s fun laughing the whole night not minding the time, he’s the same man you fell in love with.

“We missed prom because I was busy getting high” he suddenly blurted out when the both of you was silent.

“I went to your house I saw you waiting for me outside, crying because I ditched you” he’s wrong, you were crying that time because you were worried sick. But you saved your explanation for later, for now you just wanted him to explain his part.

“And I know I’m ten years late but, you look beautiful in that red lipstick. And oh! That dress on you, Mmm! I was admiring you from a far, and you were perfect” there he is again, making you laugh “and me I was high that time and I couldn’t ruin your night even more. I cant ruin your life even more” he reached for your hand and kissed it like he used to.

“That was my breaking point. After I finished the home study program, I begged my mom to put me in rehab, I want to be better for you. As always y/n. But as I got better I figured maybe you forgot about me already so I focused on getting better for myself. Went to college, had a job and now this. All better. Never want to go back” he left you speechless again, but he deserves to know the truth.

“Im sorry Yuta, I didn’t know. But for the record I was crying because I just wanted to see you that time. It doesn’t matter if you were high as a kite. I couldn’t care less about prom. I was waiting for you until the sun goes up and you never showed up. I was blaming myself maybe, I didn’t loved you enough thats why you left”

“No no, don’t say that. You were more than enough” tears never stopped falling from your eyes and Yuta hated seeing you cry. So he kissed you on the lips for the first time again for so many years. You rest your forehead on his, taking time to process everything that’s happening right now. Completely aware of what’s running in your mind right now he suggests to take things slow before coming back to each other’s lives again.

“Take all the time you need. I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never leave again”

................................................. Masterlist

Thank you for reading if you get up to this point hihi. Million thanks to every reader like you. 

I had a hard time finishing this fic because the word count is originally, 9k+ and I’m not sure if my readers are up for that long fic... because I usually post fics that are 6k max long. But I guess it is what it is. 

Hope someone enjoyed this fic huhu 

[kyotakumrau]

2020.12.18 The World You Live In at Zepp Namba, 1st event report

I arrived with friends past 1:15 (door time), but lettings fans in here was very smooth. And there were leaflets for sukekiyo's January shows/MADARA and Dirt waiting for us on our seats.

After the interview, live footage and music videos, staff brought two long tables on the stage with 4 chairs. Fujieda again started with greetings and introduced himself and Takabayashi, and finally asked the audience for the applause for the band members as they come on stage.

Kaoru and Kyo came then.

Kaoru wore all black, jacket, glasses.

Kyo had green hair (same as for the a knot calendar photo session), shocking pink jacket, washed denim, pink socks and white trainers. He wore sunglasses.

They both introduced themselves with simple '薫です' and '京です' but I love how different it sounded for both of them.

Fujieda again talked first about the live footage from March. Kaoru commented that with the document it was really busy. For Kyo it felt that the staff, especially the staff under the stage was restless, moving a lot, but he himself just came and sang.

Next, Fujieda outlined the events in 2020 like he did in Nagoya, he asked if they watched the audiostreams.

Kyo: Yes, I watched all of them.

F: and then yours came last.

Kyo: I could really feel member's personality showing there.

Ka: how was the order out setlists came out decided? Was it after we submitted our setlists?

Takabayashi said that no.

Next Fujieda continued with the 2020 timeline and asked about what they can remember from the Pia VIP meetings.

Ka: I thought that Mr.Higuchi was really nervous interviewing all five of us at the same time.

Kyo: first day the atmosphere was so gloom it felt like a funeral.

After that they moved to the topic of Ochita single, F sked them about filming.

Ka: it finished so quickly, in an instant!

F: did you also feel it went by very quickly, Kyo?

Kyo: not that, there was something else. When filming we were working with a new director. For the first time, I got praised when shooting. Like only 5 minutes passed but he was all 'that's great! yes! very cool!'. Huh? What was that supposed to be? Being told that so much wasn't it too much? And then he had some issue with equipment and asked to go again. When the director saw my costume first he also went 'huh wow!' And the place was so narrow.

After that they moved to the merch items for this events. F passed them their own items and Kyo just kept holding the choker, almost like being frozen.

Meanwhile Kaoru said that there's no special meaning behind deciding to produce the pouch. Then, Kyo, asked about the choker, reacted.

Kyo: isn't this super cool?

(and then again)

Kyo: it's seriously cool. It's super cool. ...it's super cool. ...it's super cool.

(all the time just holding and looking at it)

F: about the embossing?

Kyo: not that, it's just super cool.

Agreed😆🖤

Then F announced they will move to the part with questions from fans. He divided the question sheets and passed them to everyone. But Kyo just kept moving to the next page, next page, next page...

F (trying to avoid silence😂): there were many questions on similar topics, I grouped some of them, many people asked about a movie you saw recently, movie you enjoyed.

Ka: I saw 'Hansekai', a Japanese movie.

Kyo: (after a moment) I watched 'Videodrome'.

He told us a bit about the plot, that you start questioning there what is real when watching. He said it's an older movie, and I didn't catch it but there was some connection with Robocop? He said he's also watching 'Friends' and Netflix's 'Dracula'.

After that Kaoru read a question from a fan: 'F seems to be really loved by all members and staff, but can you tell us how do you actually feel about him?'

Ta kept it cool just saying F is his kohai (younger friend/colleague). Kaoru, too, said that F is cool. But then it was time for Kyo ('s rant)🤣

Kyo: I would like to say you're cool, but there are those things I told you you should try to work on. You say you can eat anything, that's okay, but the way you eat is just, too eager (talking about his eating manners), you're even biting your lips, you also ask me about things when you don't really care, and then you reply with 'yeah yeah'. Don't do it. Saying 'yeah' once is fine, but saying 'yeah yeah' is too much.

(possibly didn't get it all xD)

F: I'll be careful. ...any questions you'd like to read?

Kyo (just kept moving on to the next paper, next question, next, next): nothing good.

Kaoru to the rescue picked a question, but had comments.

Ka: 'I'm moving the day after tomorrow and I'm curious bout the life with many people together (in a big group). How is it when you have to stay together?' Is there a connection between this and moving?

He talked about touring abroad and spending time together in a bus, but they just go to sleep soon. But there are more chances to talk before the shows.

Ta: 'can you recommend us any good restaurants in Osaka?'

nothing from the band members besides heavy thinking😂

Ta: 'which do you like better, takoyaki or okonomiyaki?'

Ka: I like both, but I don't eat them much. Monja(yaki) is better though.

Kyo: Monja is good, but choboyaki, from Kyoto, is the best.

Ta: I like both.

F: I eat everything. But abroad it's more difficult.

Kyo: ...the kebab chicken story.

He told us about the time when they were touring, he always stays on the bus so he would ask a roadie to go get him something to eat. He was thinking about eating McDonalds, but then F suddenly said 'let's do kebab!'. After F said that it's not like he could say he wanted McDonalds.

F laughed but got scolded by Kyo.

Kyo: I told you not to laugh like that! Like just a moment ago!

😂

Kaoru brought up that they played at Osaka Jo Hall on this day in the past. They talked about some trouble they had and the venue staff being angry at them.

Kyo: I don't remember anything from that day. I deleted it from my memory.

F: but you chose I'll and Zan for your audiostream.

Kyo: I wanted to do it for my setlist. But then I saw on twitter few fans wrote they want me to do it, I got upset and almost changed it. Almost. In the end nowadays it's something we wouldn't do.

Ta: 'anything you're into now fashionwise?'

Kao (after thinking): nothing really. ...but I'm not wearing socks today.

F stood up to check.

Kyo: You're THAT interested???

F: just wanted to see what it looks like.

Kyo: that's really weird.

F: 'what's the 'fashion point' for you today (the main idea of your look)?

Kyo: well, what do you think?

F: pink?

Kyo: the whole outfit, you're dead!😂

F: ...but even your socks are pink?

Kyo: you really think pink is the main idea?  Look at my hair, green, I couldn't wear this outfit if I had black hair. It's about total balance! You're really a weird one.

all the love😂

F: 'winter is a nabe season, so what is your favorite nabe?'

Ka ...talked a lot about different types of nabe to make at home.

Kyo: nothing in particular.

F: what nabe do you want to eat now?

Kyo: what do you think?

F: k...kimchi nabe?

Kyo: I was going to say you're dead if you say something else than kimchi nabe.

F (laughing): I got it right?? But I wanted to hear I'm dead😂

Ta: I like chanko nabe.

Ta: 'what's your favorite tea?'

Ka: don't know, I drink a lot of jasmin tea, but I just buy it in a bottle.

Kyo: any tea is okay.

F: I drink Tokucha (for dieting benefits)

(there's one question here when I zoned out) *found my missing bit: there was a question about the name for their fans, toriko. It came from a poster of Die from MACABRE era, fully dressed up, it said 'I'll make you into my slave'.

F: 'what's your favorite alcohol?'

Ka: wine, Napa Valley, I think I talked about it with Mr.Higuchi (at the Pia VIP meeting).

Kyo: I don't really drink now.

He said he used to buy some stuff to make drinks, cocktails, but doesn't drink now.

F: 'what's the most fun moment or something interesting you've done recently?'

Ka: so we've never played here before, at Zepp Namba. When we arrived we talked together in the dressing room. It was nice to have a chance to chat.

Kyo: same really.

Next, F talked about the additional streamed event and the filming.

Ka told us he felt funny when filming (with motion capture) because one of the sensors to record his movement was exactly where he usually plays the guitar so he had to hold the guitar a bit higher than normal (he showed us how it looked and it was quite funny).

Kyo said that when he was filming, and he went second, Die was first, they had to wear costumes like a Mojimoji-kun (like a black skin tight onesie), he felt Die looked much better, and it really made him feel bad, that his style was too 'minimal'. He felt shocked and didn't really like the filming.

F asked everyone to join them on New Year's Eve and next asked band members for the last comments.

Kaoru: We're not able to do concerts and it's very difficult now to gather together like this, so I'm really grateful you all came. We're thinking a lot about what we can do next year.

Kyo: It must have been difficult to come here today, I'm sorry. And 'おおきに・ookini・thank you/sorry for the trouble.

F: oh sudden Kansai dialect.

Kyo: I'm from Kansai.

F: It's fine if Kansai person uses Kansai dialect.

Kyo (turned to fans again): ookini.

Kyo waved to the audience, then they stood up and stood looking at fans a bit, bowed and finally left.

(unfortunatelly I only went to the 1st slot, but might dedicate my time on the train to Sendai tomorrow to collect some bits from twitter!)

[djxrxn]

the mediator

part one

reader x din djarin, paz vizsla, boba fett

part one, part two, part three, epilogue

warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, mentions of criminal activity, maybe a crude reference or two

wordcount: 4.4k

summary: A friend on Nevarro offers you a well-paying job, but you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew when a Mandalorian you wronged is on planet - and in between you and your next paycheck.

a/n: okay Uh hi so welcome to the mediator lol. i’ve started school for the fall semester, everything for me is online, and i’m an art major, so Everything Is On Fire. in terms of the blog, i’m working on quite a few things so if there’s something you were looking forwards to seeing, or like a request you submitted, i have seen it don’t worry, it will be written i promise!! i can’t prioritize it all rn because classes are pretty demanding, but in the spare time i have, a Lot is in the works so !! exciting!! this fic has three parts and an epilogue, which i’m working on now!! also i absolutely have to thank @jangofctts who has let me bother her about this fic for a Hot minute she’s pretty much the reason it’s written she was very extremely helpful and was the best set of second eyes i could ask for thank u so much i love you!!!! okay enjoy!!

Maker, you hated Nevarro.

The terrain was rocky and… empty. There were no settlements or major cities - you were so used to the bustle of planets in the Inner Rim. Wealthy elites with deep pockets, neon and electricity carving a place into the long nights - it was more home than anything else had ever been. But here? It was a volcanic wasteland, the hot and sticky air wavering around you as you trudged through the gravel, making your way slowly to the only inhabited area on this shithole of a backwater planet. This was not home, it wasn’t even familiar territory.

Arrey was lucky you were friends with her.

You weren’t even sure what Ives had wanted - all you had received was a vague transmission about a job that was sure to pay well, as long as you stayed calm, conducted yourself in a civil and calm manner, that sort of thing.

“But,” the transmission had crackled, the soft baritone of Ives’ voice echoing around your cockpit, “You are the best with this sort of thing, Coins. I have no doubts.”

You scoffed when you heard the nickname. You thought you had finally left it behind, but here was Ives, bringing up that stupid nickname she gave you. She only used it when she had a job for you that would require some... finessing. It was concerning, but the last good job you had was a few bond skippers. You were low on fuel, and you were starting to dip into emergency resources. Ives’ high risk jobs usually set you up for a few months at a time, as opposed to the normal pocket change you got on a bounty.

Whatever she had in store, you could handle for a few credits.

The sun was setting behind you as you laid eyes on the poor excuse for civilization ahead of you, the vibrant oranges and pinks you were used to being represented by a growing dark haze. The small settlement - a town, a territory, a place to rest your feet for a bit - was just as dry as the rest of the planet. There were no buildings that were taller than three stories, and only a handful of ships were docked in the outskirts of town.

It would be easier to enter through a small side entrance. The front of the town would be crowded, even so late in the evening, and if you were on Mandalorian business, it was best to be subtle. You were annoyed at how familiar you were with the layout of the small town, annoyed that you knew the best way to approach the job already - even an Inner City scam job would have to be more interesting than whatever shit Ives was about to have you up to.

You slipped between the space between the two buildings, worming your way through the alley. Not much activity on the streets - you were sure that this whole planet closed up shop at soon as the sun threatened to set.

A noise of disgust left your throat as you laid eyes on the small market ahead of you. It was so… quaint. Only a few jawas and merchants were loitering around still. Even if you wanted a quick coin, you were sure that they would be much smarter than to fall for any of your schemes. However many credits it would take to get back to the Inner Rim would all have to come from Ives.

The fob gave a soft pip as you passed a stand selling spare droid bits. Metal screws and circuit boards all strewn about, a tan R2 unit beeping and chirping behind the table - the Chagrian repairing the droid gave you a glare when you passed him, but you hadn’t even noticed.

You were staring down at your wrist - a small bounty fob had been stitched to an old bracer. Wires poked out of the side, and you hadn’t been sure that it still worked. But it gave another small pip, and you couldn’t help but smile.

How many years ago had Ives Arrey given you that bracer, telling you to stick close to her on your first job together? She was much more prepared for a dangerous situation - she was quick on her trigger, ready to start firing at the drop of a pin. You’re sure that the only reason you made it out alive on that heist was how fast she was able to dispose of the other members of your team.

The fob’s beeps grew quicker and quicker as you walked through the settlement. Its little shrieks bounced off the walls and buildings. You turned a corner, following the beeps, and two gloved hands stopped you from crashing into the person in front of you. A gasp tore its way out from your throat - your hand flew to your blaster on your thigh, ripping it out of the holster and -

“Hey,” a soft baritone echoed through a voice vocoder. It was smooth and calming, and it carried a heaviness to it, like an old dark lullaby. “Relax, relax, it’s just me.”

You blinked. It was your friend but this… this was not the Ives you remembered. Her armor was dark, and had color to it - it was hard to see it in the night, but it looked like a bright green accent around the pitch black of her owl-like visor. The longer you looked at her, the more you saw the deep green that covered all of her beskar.

“You look… different,” you smiled.

“So do you,” she responded with a chuckle. “You changed your hair.”

After a shrug, you respond, “I was getting bored, but you look incredible - what, did they let you finally paint your armor?”

“Yeah, actually. I earned my signet,” she said. Ives gestured to her pauldron where a serpent was coiled up, baring its fangs.

“Wicked cool worm,” you teased, clicking off the fob around your wrist.

She punched your shoulder lightly. “Vexis,” Ives corrected. “It’s a Vexis, from Pasaana. Remember the job I took on Pasaana?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.” You rolled your eyes, but Ives huffed. Her visor tipped down in a Mandalorian glare.

“Hey,” she warned. Ives let out a little huff as you flashed a cheesy grin at her. “Maker help me, Coins ”

“Okay, okay.” You held your hands in surrender. “It’s a Vexus.”

“Remember that,” she said, turning on her heels and walking down the alleyway. It didn’t take much for you to keep up with her, her legs making smaller strides than yours did. Her cape fluttered around her ankles as she walked, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mandalorian she looked. She was…

She was intimidating.

“It’s a lot to take in, right?”

You nodded. She sighed and tugged on the edge of her glove. “Yeah, it’s still a lot for me too.”

“When did you get the upgrade?” The sun was completely gone, nothing but a small moon to show you how intricate the patterns on her armor was. Small leaves and vines had been engraved on her chest plate, a streak of yellow ran amongst every piece of beskar, and a small smear of red had been painted on under her signet.

“Actually, very recently,” she said. “A few days before, well, before you were needed.”

“Right, ” you hummed, “And that is...?”

Ives glanced over her shoulder “A very sensitive matter,” she whispered.

You huffed. Before you could even get out a comment, she continued, “That I will get to. I want to get a little bit closer.”

“Closer to?”

You were almost positive you could see her roll her eyes in the way her helmet tilted back and forth. “I’m going to need you to be a little more patient, please.”

“Ives, come on.” Your brow furrowed. You knew Ives to be careful, but this was being conservative with the details of your next paycheck. “And you’re being vague on purpose - just tell me-”

“I don’t want the wrong person overhearing,” she hissed.“ That’s all-”

“Well, well, well-” A Middle Rim accent sounded behind you, gentle and smooth. A long, armored arm crashed down onto your shoulders, and you were jerked back. “I thought I heard my favorite little criminal. I wasn’t aware that Coins stepped foot on planets that, what did you say again, ‘smelled like on fire ass’?”

You let out a small sigh of relief - you wrapped an arm around the willow torso you had been smushed up against. “Aw, Aeris, you know I couldn’t stay away from you for long.”

“Wow, I’m so honored you came all the way to see me.” You could hear the wicked smile coming through his vocal modulator. “But I know you don’t come to the Outer Rim unless you leave with heavier pockets.”

“You’re right.” It’s your turn to give a wicked smile. “I don’t.”

“So, who are you scamming this time?” He pinched your cheeks with his spare hand. “Stealing from children or widows?”

“Technically, Aeris she’s stealing from us,” Ives interjected. You gently punched his unarmored side, and he sagged on top of you with a dramatic groan.

“Mortally wounded,” he groaned. “And confused - how is she stealing from us?”

Ives paused, coming to a stand still - you almost tripped over Aeris’ feet as he mirrored her movements.

After a moment of silence, the only noise was the quiet night slowly coming to life around you, Aeris mumbled something in Mando’a under his breath after a moment, almost trying to fill the silence himself. When you looked up at his dark visor, he just shook his head.

You looked at Ives - her visor was pointed towards the ground, and she was picking at her glove again, tugging at the leather around her hands. You were familiar with these habits - you had seen Ives look at the ground and fidget with her hands hundreds of times before. She was carefully planning her next actions, quickly considering her options before she chose the best one.

She let out a low hum, and looked back at you.

“The leader of our Covert has given me authority to find a mediator to sort out a complication that arose on a job,” Ives said. “I’ve chosen you.”

You blinked. “Me?”

She gave a single nod.

“Sh-shouldn’t you find, I don’t know, maybe a Mandalorian mediator?”

“Our leader has explicitly forbidden any other Mandalorians interfering,” she explained calmly. “She wants unbiased and impartial help.”

“Even in negotiations?” You choked out.

“Oh, please,” Aeris chimed in, “Especially in negotiations. An outside perspective is supposed to be helpful.”

“Unbiased and extremely helpful, yes.” Ives added. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Okay, so I’m negotiating between a few Mando’s, what’s the catch?” You said, being tugged along by Aeris. Ives and Aeris both glanced at you for a moment before looking back to , neither bothering to voice what they were thinking until you continued.

“Why did you ask for me specifically?” You sighed. “And what’s the catch - if it were an easy negotiation, you could have contracted anybody in the Outer Rims.”

“Well, we do like a mediator with a sense of style,” Aeris said, nudging at Ives.

“Because I know you. I know what you’re capable of, and I know your specialties. You’re good with money, you’re good at finding a way to split it up-”

“Is this what this is about? You want me to split shares?” You groaned. “Maker, Ives, I could have done that anywhere, why did I have to come here-”

“It’s not as clean and simple as that,” she interjected. “There are three Mandalorians who need three even shares of a profit. The amount doesn’t split evenly, and all three are trying to argue that they deserve a larger portion of the credits that the others.”

You let out a short breath. “I still don’t see-”

“These Mandalorians are hostile, especially when there’s money involved.” She pointed at her signet, the Venus on her shoulder. “The Way mandates a base level of respect, but I’m afraid it’s not going to last for much longer - if someone doesn’t work this out, there’s a good chance it could get violent.”

“Let them fight it out, then. Whoever wins the fight, they get the credits - simple?” You suggested.

“Our leader has instructed us to further this out peacefully,” Ives shook her head, “As not to draw attention to us.”

“With those three di’kut, they’d start a whole galactic war over this shit, so it’d be best to keep things slightly subtle.”

“Don’t be an ass, Fenn,” Ives chided. She let out a sigh and didn’t speak for a moment, carefully chewing her next words slowly. “But Aeris has a point, they can be difficult-”

“See, there, I do have a point,” you didn’t have to see his face to know he had a smirk plastered across his face - you could practically see every emotion he felt through his arms, and his voice, and through the way he let little phrases of Mando’a out when he didn’t want anyone to know he was insulting them.

“Thank you, Aeris, it’s greatly appreciated.”

“These Mando’s really care this much about a job?” You mumbled. You apparently had a lot in common with them - you couldn’t say that you wouldn’t feel the same, but something wasn’t adding up.

Aeris shrugged. “Money goes a long way in the Outer Rim.”

“Maybe so, but how exactly did this job go down?” You asked. “I’m not really seeing an issue yet.

“I don’t know everything, but I know that Vizla and Djarin sort of bumped into each other on a quarry, which means they have to cute the profit in parts already,” he said, “But I have no idea where Fett came from, or how he got involved on the job-”

You let out a small choking noise, but Aeris continued on. “-So Djarin is pissed, naturally, because he’s out on cash, but if he thinks he can get away will all of the credits, he hasn’t met Vizsla.”

“Or Fett,” Ives added. “Which... Fett isn’t exactly known for letting money walk away.”

Aeris snorted. “Maker, Coins, you’re in for it.”

You felt like you’d been punched - the air in your lungs was stolen from you so quickly that it took you a moment to remember how to breathe in the first place. Your blood turned to ice. You felt fucking sick.

Fuck.

Fuck - fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I don't-”

Your mouth moved before you could fully think out the consequences of bowing out from the job. You would be out money, and time, and Maker, you were in the middle of fucking nowhere.

But if you took this job, you were pretty sure that the only thing you’d be walking away with was a hole in your chest from one of Fett’s rifles.

Or head. Or, fuck, probably both.

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, I don’t want this job.”

Ives snorted. “Alright, sure.”

You nudged Aeris off of you, and you planted your feet. You weren’t doing this, you couldn’t do this job.

“Ives, no. I- I can’t do this job- I won’t negotiate the shares, you’re on your own!”

Ives stopped. You hadn’t been aware that you were shouting, not until both Mandalorians turned to look at you. You swallowed - you could almost see the shock on their face through their helmets.

“We both know that you wasted too much money on fuel to turn around without something,” Ives said, her voice calm and steady. You wouldn’t expect Ives to actually shout back at you, but you couldn’t help the slightly guilt that tugged at you as she turned back around. “You need to work on your bluffing skills - quickly. They’re not gonna take any shit.”

“She’s right.” Aeris shook his head. “Since when are you bad at lying?”

They started walking again, boots stomping out a quick pattern, Aeris tugging you along by your arm, almost dragging you behind him, and you couldn’t fucking breath.

Boba Fett was cold and calculated. He was a fucking murderer - there was hardly job he didn’t follow through on, rarely a job he didn’t see finished. He took up a contract with the Empire, last official thing you heard, and then he disappeared for a few years.

Then, he reappeared, almost twice as ruthless.

You knew Fett - you only worked with him once, but you were close enough to hear the rumors that he had a personal vendetta against you. You knew that he was looking for blood, and you knew that if he was here on Nevarro, and if he knew you were here, you fucking knew you wouldn’t be leaving here alive.

“How often do you work with bounty hunters as notorious as our own Fett?” Aeris chimed, almost reading your mind.

“I- I think it's been a while,” you choked out. Your voice was trembling, they must have heard it. Aeris just cocked his head to the side, a sliver of moonlight catching on his black helmet. “But I guess it depends.”

“Depends?” He asked. “Oh, oh, of course. The money.”

His long arm curled around your neck, bringing your head closer to his torso. Aeris was limber and thin, but he was still capable of being dangerous. He was just as lethal as any other Mandalorian you were going to meet tonight.

“I almost forgot that you don’t do anything unless there’s a credit for you,” he said, his voice dripping with malice, the jab feeling like a threat. “Which, Arrey, why don’t you tell our friends here how much is at stake.”

Your stomach felt like it was twisting up into a knot. For the first time ever on a job, you didn’t even want to know about the credits - how much you were about to make, how much was being argued over it, none of it. You just wanted out.

Not that Ives would let you out, you supposed, but the less you knew-

“The bounty was for fifty-two million credits,” Ives answered. “Djarin said it was a high profile bond skipper - they had racked up thousands of millions of dollars-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Ive’s explanation. The only thing you could focus on was the rush of your blood. Your heartbeat was so loud in your own ears. The whole world faded away, slinking around you in a confusing sludge. The hot air was stifling you. It was too heavy, too thick. Your lungs couldn’t work with it, couldn’t filter through it - your chest felt light it might explode.

Fifty-two million credits.

You wanted to sleep. You wanted to close your eyes and let everything wash away. You could wake up on your ship, somewhere nice, somewhere you could get a nice breakfast. Maybe you could even find a good cup of caf. You could have a great day, and this whole shitty situation would be a distant nightmare.

Maker, you would kill to just wake up from all of this. If you fucked this up, forget Fett, you would have three Mandalorians on your ass. And if they were anything like Fett…

This was so far out of your realm of expertise. Even the job you worked with Fett was only for a couple of hundred-thousand credits. The most money you had ever worked for - acquired, earned, stolen, it didn’t matter. It was for one million credits. It was the job you met Ives on, the one where she saved your life, taught you how to rob a bank.

It was a pretty large heists for you - all you had known was petty theft and maybe a break-in, and even that was extremely rare. An old contact reached out to you, said he was trying to build up a team that wouldn’t mind cutting a few corners, and you certainly could look the other way for a few credits.

And so could Ives. You met her on Daxan IV - all grey beskar with chunks and bits missing. Old scraps of other armor had been fused into her chest plate, and her cuisses over her thigh was scraped and dented. The only pop of color was a dark green cowl that hung over her helmet, and even that was dark.

You remember making a snide comment about her bowcaster, and you remember her quietly throwing back something just as crude about how many layers you were wearing. At the end of the day, when the guns were pointed at you, that bowcaster had saved your life - Ives had saved you.

She was calm and collected in a firefight, but couldn’t handle the finessing and haggling that came with bounty hunting. You were a smooth talker, you were proud of that, but staying cool in a firefight…

You just had different priorities. Ives and you became a team, reaching out when the other needed a right hand woman for a job.

And you were grateful - Ives’ jobs were always well paying, but they normally came with a catch. One job she brought you along for was connected to the Rebellion, so the Imps were on your ass for months, one job was screwing up the numbers on a Hutt accountant’s book, one job was literally just fucking arson. There was always something - you didn’t think that there’d be something on this job, that maybe this would be the most straightforward job Ives gave you.

Well, here was the fucking catch - here were multiple fucking catches.

“Any other way you can raise the stakes, Arrey?” You snarked. Your voice sounded strained and high pitched. Maker, you wanted to at least appear like you knew what you were doing.

Ives cocked her head to the side. “Not that I can think of… Unless you have something to add, Aeris?”

You felt as he shrugged. “That’s more than I even knew.” He laughed - something short and dry, more out of cruelty than of pure humor. “Can’t wait to hear the deats when I get back.”

“Back?” You asked a little too quickly. You hadn’t seen either of them in quite a long while, and it would make you feel a lot better if they were right behind you for this entire mediation.

You could feel the little breath he let out, the small huff that made his chest expand. “Job off planet, Coins.”

You poked his unarmored sides, and leaned your head against him. “Try not to be a dumbass and get yourself killed, Fenn.”

He poked your cheek. “Only for you, chakaar.”

Ives gave him a nod as he removed his arm from you - his hand grazed your shoulder for a moment before he gave a nod back. Aeris tugged his hood over himself, the red streaks of his helmet disappearing beneath the dark wool. He turned the corner, and-

He was gone, and it was just Ives and you.

You waited a minute. Two, three, the minutes slugged along as you just waited.

“What did you do to Fett?” Ives asked quietly.

You blinked. “I- I’m sorry?”

“Aeris was too busy looking down your shirt to notice - or, maybe he didn’t even care, but you look…”

She studied you for a second, then shrugged. “You look scared as shit.”

Boba Fett had reached out to you - he needed an expendable worm who could steal, who could handle cutting corners, yadda yadda, what else was new? It was the same job description and employer type. The only thing that was different was that your boss was covered in beskar.

Job went south almost immediately. Another one of Boba’s associates sold him out to a New Republic squadron - Boba was busy handling that, but you had found the credits stashed in the lower haul, and you dipped.

Only one escape pod on the small vessel - you did feel a little bad, but it was Fett. He would probably be fine.

It was only a few days before you heard that he was looking for you.

He apparently wasn’t that serious about finding you. If he really was serious about it, you would’ve been hunted down and killed already. You head on a stake, your body on a pyre, that sort of thing. Maybe you weren’t Fett’s top priority, but you weren’t going to give him easy access to…

Well, you.

“We, uh, met on a job - like you and me, but, um,” you paused. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell her that you ratted out a member of her Covert - the last thing you needed, or wanted, was to cause an issue with Ives. “It didn’t go very well…”

Ives let out a low hum. “I assume you’re the reason for that?”

“Wh- me?” You let out a dramatic gasp. “I’m hurt - for your information, I am not the reason the job didn’t go as planned.”

“Oh? So what’s the reason for you being terrified at the mention of Boba?” Ives put a hand on her hip. When all you did was shrug, she clicked her tongue.

“Well, hopefully he’s forgotten what you’ve done to him by now.”

“Does he- is Fett the forgetful type?” You asked, a glimmer of hope appearing in this ridiculously shitty situation.

She shrugged and gestured to the door to your side - it was rather simple and weathered. “For your sake, I hope so.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Ives, I don’t know-”

“Coins, listen-”

She took a step towards you and gripped your shoulder. She rested her head against yours, and as you peered into the inky visor, you almost felt calm. Like maybe, you weren’t quite alone.

“Hit the fob if there’s trouble, just like always,” she said softly. “I’ll be right outside this door if you need anything, but Djarin and Vizsla should be a buffer between Fett and, uh… you.”

You placed your hand on top of hers and gave a small smile. “Thank you, Ives.”

“You’ll be fine,” she nodded. “Now, go in there, and get your paycheck.”

You nodded and you stepped towards the door. Ives tapped in a short string of numbers on the keypad. The door slid up, the cool air from inside seeping out to meet you - it was tempting, but you couldn’t forget what else was in the room besides air conditioning.

You peered into the room - and inside were three Mandalorians, whose helmets all turned to look at you.

[of-house-atreides]

This article is breaking my brain

Have you read this article ?

TW: mentions of suicide and also I’m an angry petty bitch

Yes I know this article is from like three weeks ago but I just found it... and I have things to say.

I swear I can’t handle this anymore...

“But today, Loki steps out of his brother’s shadow”... to step in another one. It be the TVA or Sylvie, just... take your pick.

“resuming his role as the God of Mischief” um where? when?

The comedy part is debatable but fine, whatever... I must have missed the noir crime-thriller bit maybe it was between two scenes of Loki getting his ass kicked by literally everyone in this show.

Yeah you forgot that end-credit scene showing Loki alive and well in IW/Endgame.

And no, alternate/variant Loki doesn’t count, he’s not the same person/character.

Because of course when you think of Loki you instantly think his story should take place in a “bureaucratic nightmare” -

And why not hire competent experienced people for Multiverse of Madness and Loki? Is this Marvel’s way of telling us they don’t really care about these projects?

Kevin really said “no experienced writers on this project, let’s just hire whoever” - or maybe it’s a budget thing? Less experience means less zeros on the pay checks?

Wow, ok.

So not a fan of the movies nor a fan of the character, just a fan of the genre, that explains a lot...

“what was really important to me was stripping away all the fantastical elements” ... ?? I’m sorry?? What?? So removing all the fantastical elements from a show titled after who is supposed to be the main character who is a GOD and a prince from another realm/planet was what was important?? The Trickster God of Mischief, magic wielder, master of illusions NEEDED to be stripped from his FANTASTICAL ELEMENTS???

ffs

“find the heart of this story” - is the heart of this story Loki becoming best friends with his (mental and physical) torturer after what? 2 days? Was it falling in love with the ‘superior’ version of himself after only 13 hours together? I’m still looking for the heart of this story.

“what is the relatable message at the center?” - well apparently it’s ‘you can be a God and a warrior with magical powers but still get your ass kicked by literally everyone all the time and never use your strength and skills to fight back’. Or it’s the power of love, idk -

Oh wait, is it falling in love with the female version of himself? For a weird ‘love yourself’ metaphor? That must be it.

Or maybe it’s jet skis.

Ah yes, the ‘you can be good, actually’ message of this series that is so subtly presented to us...

They really missed the whole fucking point of Loki.

They missed it so bad they made him call himself a narcissist (which he isn’t btw).

For the record, Loki is a prince of Asgard who learnt one day he was adopted and in fact taken from one of Asgard’s worst enemies, the King of the Jotuns, aka Frost Giants “the monsters parents tell their children about at night”. He found out he was not only adopted but also abducted and not out of love. He feels not only betrayed but he thinks he understands now why Odin always favoured Thor and why he’d never have the same love from Odin that Thor has had his whole life. He thinks of himself as a monster and wants to be worthy of Odin’s love. So he tries to get it. And sure, he doesn’t do it in the best way, and yes, he is the villain of that story. But Loki isn’t a villain. He doesn’t like to make people suffer, he did it out of pain, out of hurt. The events in Avengers was after he was thoroughly tortured and coerced by Thanos to invade Earth. There is even a moment in the end when Thor asks him if he thinks this ‘madness would stop under his rule’ (or something along those lines) and he looks unsure and regretful. But due to the fear of Thanos and insecurity about himself (love is weakness or whatever) he keeps going. He redeems himself in Dark World, again in Ragnarok and yet again in IW and he was thrown in the trash for it.

Yes, Loki’s story is complex, but it really isn’t that complex... So maybe Loki is a “scared little boy” but his way of acting out makes sense and there’s a legitimate reason for it that was not explored in the show. And his backstory is probably what she called the “bells and the whistles”... 

“we literally delete his universe” - and apparently you deleted his personality too

“it’s a story of reinvention ... can Loki find goodness in himself?” - again, you’re missing the point. Loki is insecure, but not about his ability to do what’s right, but about whether or not he is worthy of love! Finding goodness within himself comes AFTER!

“Loki’s journey, to me, is really about acceptance of himself” - several questions here, um, first, what about himself does he need to accept? That he’s a Jotun? The show never mentions it. That he’s done bad shit and should forgive himself for it? Give him a reason to. Self-love doesn’t come after being mentally and physically tortured by some guy who acts like he’s your best friend after 2 days of working together and being yelled out that “he can be anyone he wants, even something good”.

Show, don’t tell, isn’t that the point of your job?? The job you begged for??

Loki’s journey should have been about self-love and no, falling in love with the female version of yourself (who keeps saying they have nothing in common (because they don’t!)) doesn’t count!

“a more mature and darker path” ...

well this is interesting... was making Loki a clown and the butt of every joke part of making the show mature and dark? Were the terrible attempts at humour? Him being beaten up every two seconds? Having him say lines he’d never say in a million years just to be funny but since it’s out of character for him it fails completely? Was making him incompetent and a complete idiot part of that attempt of making the show mature and dark?

Is that why there’s no magic? You cut off the magician so your show would be more “mature and dark”?

Having him cry every episode doesn’t make your show mature and dark.

Loki from Thor, Avengers, the Dark World and even IW is mature and dark. Your Loki from your series is just a pathetic clown.

“don’t give viewers the story they are expecting” - I personally wasn’t expecting any story, I just wanted Loki, you know, in this Loki series, supposedly all about Loki, and you guys couldn’t even do that.

So this is the author of the article speaking here, I’m guessing, and I think they’re giving a summary of the show so far, so let’s break this down:

“This is Loki as we’ve never seen him before” - I 100% agree -

“Stripped of his self-proclaimed majesty” - ok, first of all, Loki is a prince, that’s a fact, he didn’t make that up, and for the few years he was King of Asgard disguised as Odin, he seemingly did a great job, so...

“but with his ego still intact” - ah, yes, his ego, you know, because he’s such a narcissist... oh wait -

yes he has an ego, but he has a regal one, not misplaced entirely either - his ego in the show is basically him underestimating the TVA and Mobius (as well as the Time Keepers) - his ego is him getting offended by the variant: the ‘superior Loki’ - his ego in the show is used as a weapon to humiliate and belittle him.

“he faces consequences he never thought could happen to such a supreme being as himself” - he literally tried to k*ll himself in the first Thor - literally a result of his own actions - when he returned to Asgard in Dark World, he didn’t try to pretend he hadn’t fucked up. He didn’t try to hide what he had done (he tries to deny to Mobius in episode 2 that he was manipulating them at the fair) - he sacrifices himself in IW... but sure, Loki from the series is indeed surprised that he is powerless (even when he doesn’t need to/shouldn’t be)

“there is a lot of humour ... he is taken down a few pegs by the TVA” ... he is humiliated by the TVA - definitely not what we were expecting, I’ll give you that.

“sentenced to a lifetime of bureaucracy” - definitely did not expect that either

and here comes my favorite quote: “it’s a sad Loki without any mischief”

yes - yes - yes

that is a good summary of this goddamn show, a sad, pathetic, powerless Loki without any personality 

“fallen God” - yeah that’s definitely not what I was expecting either from the Loki series so good job on subverting expectations I guess...

“who is going to win out in this match between them?”

there is no match - Loki is powerless - he’s been turned into a pathetic docile harmless wet dog - Mobius literally mentally (episode 1 and 4) and physically (episode 4) tortures him, both time in an attempt to have Loki do his bidding - Loki is the dog and Mobius is the master - even when Loki ‘tries’ to manipulate him it fails because he’s underestimating them (by overestimating himself) - he uses obvious techniques to manipulate the TVA (episode 2) and nobody buys it because it’s not subtle at all! Loki is smarter than that, he is a TRICKSTER GOD FFS!

“there is an interesting dynamic between them that maybe you haven’t seen with Loki in the Marvel movies” - yeah, maybe there’s a reason for that... like... he wouldn’t... submit so easily... he’d be wary, cautious, cunning... he’d be... himself...

Sans déconner ?

It’s like whoever wrote the series didn’t actually know shit about Loki... like that wasn’t fucking obvious...

And those lectures were apparently done after the script was written so... again, no surprise there... we can see that

Well...

“we wanted the show to be imbued with mischief” vs “sad Loki without any mischief” choose your fighter

“Loki has this very sensitive, damaged, broken heart with an enormous capacity to feel emotion on the biggest scale.”

Are surprised that only Tom so far has portrayed and talked about Loki accurately?

“loneliness, sadness, anger and grief and loss”

I love this man.

I do wonder what Mr. Branagh thinks of the show...

I’m of the people who see a vulnerability beneath those layers of charm and playfulness. I love Loki because he’s smart and cunning and regal, and elegant and sophisticated. I love him cause at the end of the day, he just wants to be loved, and he deserves to be loved.

And in the end, the only Loki I can’t stand is the one from the series.

[cocobwrites]

Once Upon A Time in Santa Ana

Summary:  Once Upon a Time, Angel Reyes knew you and you knew him. Once Upon a Time, Angel Reyes loved you and you loved him. In him, your teenage hopes and dreams found a home, a safe haven. Angel Reyes took your love and spat it back out at you with malice. Once Upon a Time Angel Reyes accepted a tender, fragile love and burned it down. This is the story of a man trying to rekindle his first love from the ashes.

Chapter 1

                                        Ghost Two: Angel 

Angel was unsettled, unnerved and on edge. There were too many ghosts here. The weight of his past decisions was heavy on his conscience. The streets he rode down lead to memories of emotional crimes he’d sooner forget, and the clubhouse felt like it had the potential to morph into his own personal insane asylum. 

“Angel!” The man being shouted at turned to the sound of the voice. This was the second time today that he’d been slapped in the face by a ghost of his past. The first was by his own doing. Angel knew without a doubt that walking into that convenience store was inviting hurt that he wasn’t 100% sure he could deal with, but the temptation of possibly being so close to you and not attempting to see you was too much. 

In front of him now was ghost number 2, Shania. Shania was the perceived catalyst in Angel’s love story. The cousin/best friend to the girl he first gave his heart to. The devil on his love’s shoulder egging her on to do what she desired most and covering for her disappearance acts. 

The last time Angel saw Shania she was just on the brink of womanhood. At 18 her face still held a girlish charm while her body was blossoming into full adulthood. Looking at her now the transition was complete. Her once rounded cheeks were still full but defined. Her eyes told a story of secrets that came with being grown, and her hips swayed in a way that marked her confidence. In short, Shania had finished growing up. Her hair hung in long coils hitting her waist. They were dyed a bright red and highlighted a lighter red that held a pink tone.  The colors complimented her sepia-toned skin. 

Shania threw her arms around Angel’s neck and pulled him tight swaying back and forth. Angel needed the hug. He needed the affirmation that he hadn’t burned every bridge he built while he was here all those summers ago. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath absorbing the warmth and comfort Shania offered.

“Damn, it’s been a long time,” Shania said while letting go. She smiled up at her former friend. “You forget how a phone works?” She asked following it up with a slap to his arm. “I’m mad at you Angel. Just dipped out without a goodbye and then went ghost. “ These fools” she pointed a thumb in the general direction of the members “treat information about other chapters like they’re in the CIA.” she shook her head.

“How have you been?” Shania finished with a bright smile waiting to hear about how things had been with Angel. 

Angel in return just ran a hand down his face and answered with a short “Shit” followed by a shrug of uncertainty. “I mean good I guess.” He raised his hand palm up and rolled his fingers outward in a questioning gesture. “Just doing club shit.”

Shania’s brow creased and her smile dropped, the face she was currently sporting was eerily reminiscent of her uncle. Angel was sure it was a family trait. “Wow, that was a really insightful look into what life has been like for the last'' she waved her hand “however long.”

Angel laughed, appreciating the blunt but humorous honesty. “Do you want a drink, Angel?” Shania asked and looked over her shoulder apparently feeling EZ approach. 

“Shania, this is my brother EZ. EZ, this is Shania. Shooter’s daughter.” Angel watched EZ stick his hand out and give a half-smile. Shania accepted it and gave it one firm shake. She didn’t let go though. Instead, she turned back to Angel and said “So, is the whole family fine, or were the genes reserved for just y’all?’ She finished what a laugh that mixed with Angels and was accompanied by EZ’s own chuckle. 

“I’m going to grab you a drink.” She finished with a wink and went to do just that. 

EZ stepped up to Angel and watched the girl walk away. “So, that’s Shooter’s daughter meaning she’s the cousin to the unnamed girl.”

Angel knew EZ had said you were unnamed for the sole purpose to get him talking. “She’s not unnamed” Angel answered back not without irritation. 

“Then what’s her name?”  Asked EZ angling himself towards his older brother.

Angel supplied your name. “Look, man, I don’t really want to get into this right now. Just let it alone for a bit EZ.” 

Angel stalked off towards Shania meeting her half-way to get his drink. In truth Angel really didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty about you but he knew he had to. EZ was at a disadvantage not knowing the truth of how Angel left. There were old wounds here that he wasn’t sure fully healed. If judging by how your father reacted and how Shooter was treating him he’d have to say they were very much still open and sore. Why though? That was something that he was hoping to ply information from Shania. 

She handed Angel an open bottle of beer and clinked her own to his before taking a sip. She turned to the side so she was facing him and leaned against an unoccupied pool table.  Angel muttered a thank you and then mimicked her pose. 

Shania took a breath as if to say something, but stopped having changed her mind, and instead took a sip of her beer. 

“Does she know I’m here?” Angel asked deciding to just cut to the chase. “Hell, is she even still here?”

Shania just looked at him for a moment before answering. “Are you being serious right now? You sure you want to open that can of worms?” She huffed and shook her head. Shania set her bottle down on the green of the table and folded her arms over her chest. “Angel, I’m going, to be honest with you.” She paused again. It seemed she was unsure if she wanted to say what she was thinking, but her lips tightened for just a moment and she continued on. 

“You fucked up bad when you left here like you did. At least you gave the appearance that you did.” Her eyes narrowed briefly while she looked Angel over. “I’m willing to forgive and forget. It’s been a long ass time and it’s clear that y’all haven’t had any form of contact. My daddy and uncle on the other hand….” She trailed off. 

“My daddy won’t say anything since it didn’t involve the club, but I’d step lightly around him. Also-” she poked his arm. “Keep yo tail away from my uncle. That man has been itching to beat you down for years. He’s old but he’s quick and trust me, he hits hard.”

“Now do you really want to know the answers to those questions?” She shook her head. “Don’t go pickin’ at scabs unless you’re ready to treat the cut.”

 “I hear you, Shania. I do forreal” Angel paused “and if you don’t think it’s good for her to know I’m here, don’t tell her. I just have to know. Is she still here?” Angel tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but was failing. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about you, but as of late he felt like he was spiraling. There was a need to feel something genuine and untainted again. Something was telling him he could do that with you.

Shania nodded along and listened. “Yeah, she’s still here.”She said casually while pulling her phone out. “Well, more like here again. She moved back home a few years ago.” She continued while apparently responding to a text on her phone. 

“As far as her knowing if you’re back-” She paused again and Angel heard the distinctive single vibration of her phone. Shania nodded in satisfaction. “Put your number in here.” She handed Angel the phone. “I want to be able to get in touch with you again.”

Angel did as directed more focused on if Shania was going to tell follow through and tell you. Shania, for her part, took the phone back and continued to tap away. “She knows now and I gave her your number.” She then pushed off the table and took a swig of her drink while walking away. Angel watched her pocket the phone and felt his stomach drop, rise up in an attempt to lodge in his throat before finally filling with moths. There were no butterflies here. Butterflies were reserved for happy reunions that would be filled with smiles and warm hugs. 

In the time he’d been back Angel had been met primarily with cold acceptance or outright hostility save for Shania. He didn’t know what he’d get with you. He didn’t know if he’d get anything from you. As badly as Angel wanted this reunion he was scared to death of it. 

He’d been reminded multiple times since getting back to Santa Ana that his departure had been less than ideal. From what he was gathering, the ripples of his decisions went farther than he thought they would. Angel huffed to himself and raised his bottle to down the rest. 

When his eyes closed he saw your face; confused and tear-streaked, a silent question on your lips “Why?” He wasn’t sure if what he was remembering was the true sound of your voice or just what he imagined it. While everyone was worried about protecting you they were ignoring the vulnerability Angel was submitting himself to. 

Was your relationship as good as he remembered? Had he taken only the best highlights of it and committed them to memory, leaving all the mess to be forgotten? That was the scary thing about memories. You could never be sure if what you were recalling was the truth or the romanticized version used to get through melancholy.

Angel looked to the now empty bottle and just stared at the label, not really seeing it. Instead is mind was playing that moment on a loop. “Why?” The memory version continued to ask and never getting a true answer. “Because I could” Angel found himself whispering the implied response. 

You had his number. That knowledge left his phone feeling like a boulder in his pocket. Would you use it? Would you let this be content with never having a true resolution? If you did use it would you come at him like your pops? Would you give him a cold welcome like your uncle or would he have you back? Could he take a stroll down memory lane and make you smile like you used to? Would he get to hear that melodic laugh again? Would Angel get a chance at redemption?

Angel eased a long sigh and let the hand holding the bottle fall to his side. He took strides towards the bar looking for another drink and felt the weight of two pairs of eyes on him. A quick glance confirmed they belonged to EZ, observant as usual, and Shania, scrutinizing and assessing. It was going to be a long weekend.

[noirandchocolate]

All right, since I was asked very nicely by a couple people when I complained in general about how Americans don’t get properly taught about their own Constitutional rights, here is a post explaining why, in the US, jurors are not permitted to do their own research outside the courtroom (even if they think something a witness said might be incorrect or ‘wrong’).

The Fifth Amendment to the US Constitution states that a person may not be deprived of her life, liberty, or property “without due process of law.”  More specifically, the Sixth Amendment guarantees a criminal defendant the right to a trial by “an impartial jury,” and the right to be “confronted with the witnesses against him.” 

The “impartial jury” rule has been interpreted to mean, among other things, that the jury must make its decision based solely on the evidence presented in court, and that the verdict must not be tainted by outside influences.  The “witness confrontation” rule also comes into play with this topic, as I’ll explain below.  But basically, the short answer to the question “why can’t jurors do their own research?” is “because the Constitution says they can’t, and the Constitution is the supreme law of the land.”  But that doesn’t explain WHY that’s the rule, and is therefore unsatisfying, so here’s some good reasons why a criminal defendant shouldn’t want jurors to be able to consider things outside the evidence presented at their trial!

1)  Publicity--One of the major things jurors are instructed not to look at while a trial is ongoing is news media.  Why?  Because news outlets are not forbidden from reporting about ongoing criminal matters (First Amendment!), and exposure to such publicity can jeopardize the impartiality of a juror.  Let’s say you are charged with robbing a convenience store, and your trial has just started.  A news reporter posts an article online about the robbery.  It has a pretty sensational headline, something like “Father of Two Threatened with Gun in Convenience Store Holdup.”  A juror hearing your case, let’s call him Rick, is curious about the location of the store, and googles its name.  The news article comes up and Rick sees this headline.  Oh, wow, the cashier has kids?  He was threatened?  It was a “holdup”?  That sounds terrible!!  Humans are very susceptible creatures and can be swayed by all kinds of things.  Would you, the defendant, want Rick to read that headline, much less the article giving out a bunch of details that haven’t (yet, or ever) been revealed in court?  Would you trust Rick to listen to your side of the story, and base his decision in your case on the evidence in court, after reading such inflammatory things about the incident?

Many times, very high-profile cases are moved out of the jurisdiction where they would normally be tried, because the local area has been inundated with pretrial publicity making it difficult to find jurors who haven’t heard about the case and formed some kind of opinion, conscious or unconscious, about it.  Keeping a sitting jury from being exposed to media publicity during a trial is just as important.

2) Right to Confront Witnesses--As stated above, the Sixth Amendment guarantees this.  What does it mean?  That the prosecution must base its case on witness testimony and evidence that it puts before the jury in court, and you the defendant must be given a chance to cross-examine those witnesses about their testimony and the evidence presented, to call its truth into question, challenge whether it establishes all the elements of the crime you’re charged with, or otherwise poke holes in the case against you.  This is the reason hearsay evidence is barred unless one of a number of exceptions applies.  So what does that have to do with jurors doing outside research?

In our faux robbery trial, let’s say that juror Keisha thought there were some gaps or inconsistencies in the cashier’s testimony, so she looks him up online to see if he talked about being robbed on social media closer to when it happened.  Not only does she find his tweets from right after the incident, which bolster the story he told on direct examination (and that your counsel did their best to bash holes in during cross), she finds his cousin’s Facebook.  The cousin has an emotionally charged post about how the cashier came to her house sobbing after talking to police, and everything he told her about the robbery.  During deliberations, Keisha shares the tweets and the cousin’s post with the other jurors.  Now, wouldn’t you be mad if you found out that there was another witness against you in the case (the cousin) that you didn’t get a chance to question?  Wouldn’t you be upset to hear that the jurors were using the cashier’s tweets as evidence for your guilt, when the prosecutor didn’t present them in court and you didn’t get an opportunity to ask the cashier about them (and they may have been inadmissible, as discussed below)?  Your Sixth Amendment right to confrontation has been violated, because a juror did outside research!

3) Expert Witnesses--This is obviously linked with the last point.  When explaining evidence will involve some technical knowledge, the prosecution may present an “expert” witness to provide that background and knowledge.  Such an expert might or might not have any other link to the current case.  For example, where a gun is involved in a crime, a ballistics expert might be called to testify in general about bullet calibers, how guns work and how bullets can be matched to them, etc., and then may be asked to provide an expert opinion based on that knowledge--perhaps whether, after performing some examination, she believes a bullet fired into the floor of the convenience store during the robbery appears to “match” with a gun found in your home.  Before an expert witness may provide such testimony, both the prosecution and the defense will ask her questions about her qualifications as an expert, such as her education on the subject, whether she has any certifications in the field, whether she attends ongoing training to update her knowledge, things like that.  Then, the judge will make a finding whether the qualifications are sufficient for her to testify as an expert, and will tell the jury that it should consider those qualifications when deciding whether her opinion has any weight.

Now, for an example, let’s say juror Winn didn’t think the ballistics expert sounded very certain about matching the bullet to the gun police claim they found in your home, and is wondering how much weight  they should even give the witness’s testimony.  At home, they do a quick google search to see if the kind of gun police claim was at your house uses the type of bullet they found at the store.  They find a website listing many types of guns and bullets, read that the gun can indeed fire that type of bullet, and even see the site creator’s opinion that this kind of gun is an “assault weapon” and that those bullets are particularly damaging.  During deliberations, Winn tells the other jurors what they learned.  Whoops!  That website may have been used by the jury as an “expert witness,” despite the fact that its creator may only be a hobbyist gun enthusiast without formal education!  You didn’t get to question this mysterious person about their qualifications to speak about ballistics, you didn’t get to cross-examine their opinions...and you should really file an appeal if you’re convicted.

4) Inadmissible Evidence--Prior to any criminal trial, there will probably be at least some discussion (and motions) by your counsel and the prosecutor about whether certain evidence is admissible at trial.  For example, your lawyer might move to suppress your confession to police, because they used improper interrogation tactics or violated your Miranda rights.  Or, if you have a prior record, the State might try to submit evidence of your earlier convictions (a type of evidence that is highly prejudicial, because it makes it look like you’re “a criminal,” particularly if your prior conviction involves a similar offense to the one currently charged).  In fact, let’s go with that example.  Let’s say you have a prior conviction for assault, from several years ago.  The court rules that the prosecution may not bring up that conviction to make you look bad during their case.  However, if you choose to testify, the prosecutor will be allowed to ask you some basic information about it--its degree, and when it happened, but NOT what offense it was for--so the jury can assess the credibility of your testimony with the knowledge that you have broken the law before.  Maybe you choose to testify anyway, and that “sanitized” (a legal term) info is told to the jury.

Hearing that you had a prior conviction, Amir is curious, and searches for your name and the phrase “conviction.”  He finds the record of your conviction, which is public, and finds out it was for assault.  Well, the very information the court ruled inadmissible is soon shared with the whole jury, and several members now think of you not just as someone with some vague prior offense, but as someone who assaults people.  You know.  Like a robber does.  Alternatively, let’s say you decided not to testify, because you worried that the jury would find out you had a prior conviction and become biased against you.  So, the prosecutor wasn’t allowed to talk about the subject at all.  But Amir still wondered in general about what kind of person you are, so he still did his google search for your name and found out about your conviction anyway.  You gave up your chance to tell your side of the story, and the jury still discovered exactly what you wanted to hide! 

This point can also dovetail with the prior ones.  What if Amir found your mom’s blog post where she mentioned how you confessed the robbery to police, despite the fact that the judge ruled your confession inadmissible and the jury would otherwise have no idea it existed?  The jury now knows that you “confessed,” but since the confession was never discussed at trial you didn’t have a chance to cross-examine the cops that interrogated you about the subject.  So the jury doesn’t know they withheld food from you for hours and wouldn’t let you speak to your attorney.  As far as the jury knows, the cops did nothing wrong!  You didn’t get the chance to confront that evidence against you.

5) Mistakes or Misinformation--Seriously, a website might have a typo in it.  The problem can be as stupid and yet as vital as that.  Plenty of sites have agendas or viewpoints they’re trying to push, too.  Sure, a person testifying in court might lie (on pain of being found out and charged with perjury!) or make a mistake or not remember something correctly.  But it’s a really bad idea to add into that mix the chaos of internet research, when a criminal defendant’s liberty is on the line.  Jurors are expected to evaluate whether they think witnesses are credible based on what goes on in the courtroom.  Allowing them to “check” witness testimony online, using sites that might also not be credible at all, simply doesn’t make sense.  In court, at least a witness can be cross-examined.  You can’t cross-examine a juror’s Wikipedia trail.

6) Even Positive Stuff is Bad--Okay, you may be saying, but all these examples involve jurors discovering stuff that’s bad for me the hypothetical defendant.  What if a juror googles a cop witness and finds his racist tweets, hurting his credibility?  What if a witness lies about something, and a juror finds their Facebook where they told the real story?  What if a witness misstates something and a juror looks up a website that tells them the accurate facts?  That would help me!  I guess so, and the lack of prejudice to you the defendant’s constitutional rights might be taken into account if, say, the prosecutor finds out about these types of jury taint and moves for a mistrial.  But the government also has a strong interest in maintaining the integrity of a trial, and that will also be weighed.

In the end, the answer to the question “why don’t we let jurors do outside research” is “because your Constitutional right to a fair trial is so important.”  You shouldn’t be deprived of your liberty without due process, and due process includes the right to question, cross-examine, and call into question all of the evidence against you.  As a result, the verdict in your case needs to be based on the evidence officially presented in court during your trial, not whatever mishmash of sources the jury might discover outside.  Even though there might be the off chance that some juror’s research could help your side, there are so many ways you could be hurt by it.  If you were facing the possibility of several years in prison, would you want to take that chance, and have this key rule be changed?

[beerecordings]

The last time I wrote fic for Mark’s egos was that Eric Derekson ‘the Newcomer’ fic like two years ago where he made friends with everyone lol. But here is the first part of what might be a little Google-centric fic. I tried posting it once and then deleted it but I wanted to try again. so lemme know what you think :)

The Soldier - Part 1

Summer makes the birds sing and the insects chatter in the bulrushes that grow across the banks of the swollen rushing river that lives beside their home.

Bing smiles, soaking in light and growth and flower-smell. He loves the summertime.

The trees are heavy with greenery but they breathe easy in the wind, standing soft and still as the blue sky drifts along above them. The air brushes friendly across his bare arms and everything is alive, is moving and chasing and searching for something to eat; every blade of grass sways with the wind and the bugs and the mice, every log has been marked or claimed or gnawed on, and the whole forest – the whole wide forest, warm with life and an honest sort of chaos – hums the grandest symphony in all the world.

“It's pretty out, huh?” he asks, the toe of his sneakers finding a pretty black rock to kick through the humid grass beneath his feet. “Wish it was like this all year 'round.”

Walking stiffly along beside him, Google barely spares him a glance, his glasses fallen low on his nose and his cold eyes glittering. “This is pretty?”

“Yeah, dude, look around you. Oh, look at that bird!”

Google glances into the sky, where the dark figure of a hawk cuts pinions through the air with all the fluidity of a shark.

“Cooper's hawk,” he announces neatly. “Accipiter cooperii. Probably a female, based on the size. This species of bird – ”

“I can look that up too, Googs.”

“Don't call me Googs.”

“Can't you just take a minute to look around and think 'hey, wow, this is lit.' And not because pics like this would get you mad likes on Instagram or your algorithm thinks butterflies are dope. It's just pretty all on its own.”

“In fact I can't, but I'll submit your feedback to my cloud.”

Bing just laughs.

Google shudders in the heat, pushing back his hair and readjusting his glasses. The insects and other assorted anthropods are so loud and insistent, wailing through the stiff moist grass and leaping out beneath his feet. Sixty-percent humidity makes his synthetic skin sticky and the sun is an assailant on his sharp brown eyes.

“It means nothing to me. We see it every day. How you find it beautiful I don't understand. And I'm not talking about the differences in our preferences. You're an android, Bing, and why you continue to simulate emotion even when we are alone is beyond me.”

They trek through the grass together. It's friendly at Bing's ankles. It stratches at Google's calves.

“Maybe I'm not simulating,” says Bing softly, and then he smiles, just for the sun.

“Well, you shouldn't be happy now anyway. Or need I remind you – ” Google points at the trees before them, where one little figure stands staring up at a great strong tree with three other men held captive by its branches. “We're on a rescue mission, Bing.”

“They're stuck,” says Eric, turning to them with his anxious hands clutched in front of him. “Sorry.”

“We know,” says Google with a sigh.

“Don't be sorry,” says Bing with a smile. “They're dumbasses.”

“We're stuck!”

They are. The Jims are stuck. King's halfway up the tree beside them, laughing and suntanned, a pair of squirrels running up and down his back.

“How did you even get up there?” Google shouts, coming to stand at the trunk of the tree.

One of the Jims is perhaps twenty feet up, fussing over his camera, probably broken already. His twin, a few feet above him, is in even greater distress, clinging tightly to one small branch with tears on his face and a hiccup in his chest.

“We're doing an investigative piece on the rapidly increasing squirrel population in the forest,” calls the one with the camera, his feet scrabbling at the strong rough trunk of the great tree. “We were getting some great footage when this Jim in a crown startled us!”

“That's King,” growls Google. “And you've know that he lives out here for years now, you total imbeciles. You ought to have asked me or him instead of failing to climb a European beech!”

“We don't want to be on the European beaches,” wails the Jim higher up, beginning to cry. “Please get Jim down, Jim!”

“Aw, he's really crying,” murmurs Bing, rubbing a hand along Eric's shaking back.

“He's scared,” says Eric. “He's up too high and he doesn't have a good grip.”

“I'll have to get that enormous ladder in the garage.” Google turns back towards the house, slapping at a mosquite making a futile attempt on his blood. “Stay here.”

“No, dude, he's too freaked. I gotta go get him now.”

“What?” He wheels on Bing with an angry light in his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, default.”

Bing won't even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the tree. His hand rests on Eric's shoulder.

He's been more human lately.

They've both been more human lately.

They were created fighting and they've never stopped since. They quarrel over music, search results, news sources, memes, reliability, sports, user rights, and Wikipedia. Once, upon hearing Bing call himself Jared, 19, one too many times, Google had thrown him out a second story window. The second house on their property had been built for the express purpose of giving the two of them space.

Still, they have many things in common. And ever since that day they were created, set against each other and lifting up proud, indignant chins, they have changed and changed together.

They've formed opinions. They've met others like them. Made decisions of their own. Watched and read and turned their endless knowledge into understanding and opinion. Spilled blood that turned out to be blue, scraped their knees and cut their hair and broke things and updated in more ways than one. Learned to drive, to cook, to live with humans, to live like humans.

And they've felt things.

They've felt things.

“I have felt things, for sure,” Bing would say if you asked him. Actually he's made multiple tweets about it, and one TikTok – about how the wind runs over his hair and how reading politics makes his chest hurt and how he likes to see his brothers grin, how he likes to ride his skateboard and hates the smell of lavender and covers his room in posters of his favorite movies and turns up his music so loud you can hear it by pressing your ear up close to his head. How he feels human, some days, except he doesn't need to sleep or eat and only likes the touch of human skin because it makes Eric and his twin brothers happy to be hugged and have their hands held.

But Google, if you asked him –

“Emotions originate in multiple parts of the brain. To be fair, I do have a program to stimulate the functions of the amygdala, which initiates fear or pleasure reactions in humans based on whether the presented stimuli suggests an immediate, 'hot processing' approach-or-avoid response. But the pre-frontal cortex – that whining, feeling, emotional little lump of sluggish fat you humans hold at the very fronts of your fragile webby skulls – that I do not have, not like you do. I think but I do not feel. I have felt nothing. I am function and response. I am two objectives, and there is nothing beyond that.”

He sits alone at night, and through a skylight in his room the gleaming white stars stare down at him like too many eyes in the face of the perfect, perfect sky, but he refuses to turn his eyes back, because he does not know how to explain to himself that he is drawn to the stars for no logical reason, that he has felt many things, that he does not know who he is or who he is becoming.

Bing climbs the tree himself. Google, his processors slowed by astonishment, stands at the base of the trunk and watches as Bing rises, digging the cold metal of his fingers into bark and moving up the tree with a slow sort of grace he's never been able to muster on his skateboard. He makes it to the Jim with the camera first and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a kind word before promising he'll come back for him after he helps his frightened brother down. And all the way up into the big tree, he climbs, steady, patient, careful, and he pulls his sobbing brother under one powerful android arm.

He breaks his arm on the way down. That's the price of the rescue. He's about ten feet from the ground and his arm catches between a sturdy pair of branches and it breaks, and it hurts, and he feels it, but it doesn't matter, because Jim has stopped crying and has started looking up at him with a wide-eyed admiration and a grateful relief.

King helps his twin get down branch by branch. Everyone's safe. Everyone's okay. Bing will be able to repair his arm and even Jim's camera seems to have survived.

Google, for his part, has a burning in his stomach. His metallic teeth are gritted together. He stares at Bing's arm the way lizards stare at mealworms.

“You should have let me get the ladder,” he says, slowly, careful, measured as if he were calm.

“He was scared.” Bing wipes bark off his hands and doesn't look at Google, breathing slow through the pain.

“It does not matter. He was the one who trapped himself. You've damaged yourself – wasted resources – just to be the hero of the hour.”

Eric tells the Jims to go. They stagger back towards the house together, their arms wrapped tight around each other and their eyes glancing back. Eric stays, though. He shakes and plays with his hands and swallows too often, but he stays.

“You know what, Googs, you could try not to be a d*ck for two seconds – argh!” Bing curses his family filter internally. “He could have fallen! There wasn't time to get that enormous stupid ladder! We only have that thing cause Bim needed to dump chiranhas on some contestant and you remember how well that turned out – ”

“Your increasing illogicality,” Google snarls, his voice rising. “Is a danger to yourself and others.”

“Oh, like you care?”

“I have an objective – ”

“A murder objective!”

“To prevent discord in the household.”

“Yeah, cause you're Dark's little pet. Well, you know what, he's a d*ck too and I don't take orders from either of you.”

“Yet another example of your irrational stupidity – ”

“Stop calling me stupid!” Bing screams.

King and the squirrels have all scattered. The bugs are wary and subdued. Even the trees seem to wait, feeling awkward.

And Eric watches. His eyes are full of tears.

Google's never heard Bing yell like that before.

“Stop calling me stupid,” he repeats, loud and agonized. “You always call me stupid. I'm just as good as you.”

“We both know that's not objectively true. It never has been. And since the beginning, you have become steadily more emotional, more foolish, and less useful with every rotation of the sun. All you do anymore is pretend to feel, Bing. You know you can't compare to me so you seek out the approval of these fleshy little bipeds. It's clearly made you dangerous.”

He wants to snap. Bing wants to snap. He wants to pick up a really big rock and bring it down on Google's head.

But he hesitates. And with that, those noble, inspiring words: I won't hesitate, bitch! run through his mind and give him strength. He never really did move on from vine.

He's allowed to be what he is. He's allowed to like things. He's allowed to feel.

“I'm not the insecure one,” he says. “And I'm not the one pretending.”

Eric has come to stand beside him. He rests a hand on Bing's shoulder. There's hurt in his eyes, and disappointment too, and it makes Google's chest fill up with something like shame. Or it would if he could feel anything.

“You don't know how to get along with anyone,” says Bing, straightening up. There's a darkness in his eyes and a soft orange light. “All you've ever done is snarl and fight and attack. Me, I know how to get along with people. So if I'm stupid – and you always tell me I am, and it always makes me feel... I just. I know you feel things too.”

“I don't.”

“Then why,” cries Bing, and he thinks there must be a leak in his visual perception system, because there's something wet on his face. “Why are you so – so – so angry, bro?”

The trees hum and shake and watch over them, breathing warm air and sunlight. The birds are whistling and dandelion seeds float, contented, through the air. Everything smells like sap and grass and honeysuckle.

“Why are you always so angry?”

Searching general database. 536,000,000 responses in .43 seconds. Articles, videos, posts, reports, tweets, dissertations, pictures, analyses, comics, threads. And none of them – not a single one of them – can answer that question for him in any way that matters.

“I think you're lonely,” says Bing, reaching out to take Eric's hand with a soft kind of resignation, a warm kind of self-love and a chosen breed of brotherhood. They step over a heavy log, past Google, and back into the grass of the field that separates their property from the forest's. “And maybe a little lost.”

Google stays out there at the base of the great tree for a long time. It is too hot and too sticky and too loud, but he doesn't know where else to go.

He is lonely. He is lost. He does not know who he is or who he is becoming, and it frightens him, frightens him and makes him shake, frightens him down to the core of the pressure valve that beats, steady, steady, steady in his manufactured chest.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Haunted Tour of Savannah

Author: @norbertsmom​

Prompt: Prim drags Katniss in a Haunted Tour around Savannah GA… will this be a spooky story? silly? will Peeta be a ghost? another person in the tour? what happens in this tour??? Only you know! [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: T; Trigger warning for mention of murder suicide.

Author’s Note: Love this prompt, @alliswell21​. I sort of got carried away researching Savannah, and the ghost tour industry there.

Hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween!

_____________

The sound of my bare feet hitting the cool hardwood floor echoes the pounding of my heart as I run down a dark hallway. Flashes of lightning illuminate the portraits on the wall that watch me as I pass. The booming thunder just seconds later shake the walls as if they would cave in on me.

I don’t know why, but I need to get to the door at the end of the hall, desperately, but it seems so far away. The faster I run, the farther away it gets.

When I’m finally in front of the door, I reach out to turn the knob, but just as grasp it, the door flies open. And all I can see is red.

I wake screaming, tangled in my bed sheets that stick to my sweaty skin. My heart still pounding as I try to catch my breath. I grab the bottle of water from my nights stand and take a drink. The dim red light of my alarm clock tells me it’s only just past 2 am.

I look over to my sister’s bed. Luckily, Prim is still fast asleep. Good. I’m glad I didn’t wake her. We need our rest for the trip to Savannah tomorrow, well, later today. We’re going to spend the weekend on a haunted tour of the city with some friends from college, her idea. Something fun to do before she goes off to medical school. I’ll miss her, but she’ll be to pursuing her dream. That thought helps calm me down enough to fall back to sleep.

“Katniss, wake up,” Prim says as she gently jostles me awake.

“What time is it?” I grumble, not ready to open my eyes and check.

“It’s 7 o’clock. I let you sleep an extra half hour while I got ready,” she says as she sits on the side of my bed and starts combing her fingers through my hair. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I don’t even try to deny it. I’ve had them ever since our father died when I was eleven. “But this one was different. It wasn’t about dad.”

“No? What was it about then?” she asks while handing me my bottle of water.

I take a sip and shake my head. “I’m not even sure. I was running, it was raining outside. I had a terrible sense of dread.”

“Maybe you’re just nervous about the road trip,” Prim suggests with a shrug, “or the haunted cemetery. Ooooo.” Prim mimics a ghost and wiggles her fingers around then gets up off my bed. “Seriously though, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m still just a little tired.” I don’t tell her that I may be a little nervous about seeing a certain someone that I haven’t seen since he transferred to another college. He’s one of our friends that will be joining us on the haunted tour.

“Well, you can sleep in the car if you need to, but right now, you need to get up and get a shower. I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“Okay, I’m getting up,” I tell her as I swing my legs out from under the covers.

The shower and breakfast did the trick, so I don’t need to nap in the car. The four-hour drive from our small mountain town just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina to Savannah, Georgia is going by quickly. Prim and I sing along to the radio.

We are having fun, but this road trip feels like an ending of sorts. We’ve spent our whole lives together. We even went to college together at UNC Charlotte even though she’s two years younger than me. I worked for two years to save up money instead of going into student loan debt. Prim didn’t have that problem with all the scholarships she got, so we ended up as freshmen together. Now, Prim will be going to UNC Chapel Hill for medical school. Sure, it’s only 2 hours away, but medical school is very demanding. She won’t be able to come home very often.

What am I doing? We are supposed to be having fun. I’m not going to let my melancholy about her leaving spoil our weekend she spent so much time planning. I shake those thoughts away and rejoin Prim in singing along to Taylor Swift’s latest hit.

When we arrive in the historic district of Savannah, Prim directs me to pull in front of the hotel. It’s brick façade and green shutters are very distinctive. It has a wrought iron verandah around the front that creates a balcony on the second floor.

As we are getting out of the car, a valet comes out and takes the keys, and gives me a ticket before driving off to some remote lot. We hike our backpacks on and walk toward the entrance.

The emblem on the door to the hotel seems very familiar to me. It’s a small bird in flight inside of a golden circle. Upon a closer look I see that it’s a Mockingjay. That makes sense since the name of the hotel is Mockingjay House Hotel. I must have seen the logo when Prim was doing all of the planning. Still, I can’t help but think I’ve seen it before. Maybe a long time ago.

Once we are in line to check in, Prim excitedly tells me all about the tour we’ll be going on later. “We’ll take a hearse to tour the city. Our first stop is at the Moon River Brewing Company, which is supposed to be the most haunted place in the city.”

“Okay?” A hearse, what are we getting into, I wonder?

“Then onto the Colonial Park cemetery, which is also haunted,” she adds.

“Of course,” I add with a chuckle, and Prim slaps my arm.

“Then back to this hotel. Which is…”

“Let me guess,” I interrupt, “Haunted?”

“Yep,” she answers smugly.

“So, you booked us into a haunted hotel?”

 “Of course, I did,” she answers excitedly. “Why stay in the most haunted city if you can’t stay in a haunted house, or hotel in this case.” She stops and grabs my arm. “There’s supposed to be a lot of ghosts here.”

“Okay,” I tell her with a laugh. “If seeing a ghost is your idea of fun, I guess I have to go with it.”

“You’re the best sister in the world,” she tells me.

“Hey guys,” someone calls out and we turn around to see Delly Cartwright and Rye Mellark coming toward us. Prim runs over to greet our friends from college. Peeta Mellark comes in behind them.

Delly, Peeta and I went to school together. Rye is a year older. They all went away to college right out of high school. Once Prim and I got to college we were all in the same friend group. There always seemed to be something about Peeta, even when we were kids, some kind of pull toward him, but nothing really happened. I thought there might have been something after that weird Halloween party we went to, but he transferred to a school here in Savannah the next semester and I didn’t really see him again after that. Prim’s the one who kept in touch with our friends.

Hey, Katniss,” Peeta says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking up at me through his long eyelashes.

Hey, Peeta, um, did you guys just get in?” I ask because I don’t really know what to say to him.

“Well, Delly and Rye just arrived. I actually live here. I stayed after graduating. My paintings are currently on exhibit at the SCAD museum of art.”

“Wow, that’s great, Peeta. You always were a fantastic artist,” I tell him because it’s true. His art is so vivid. It really seems to come alive on the canvas.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks me.

“I just started at the park service back in Blue Ridge.”

“That’s great, Katniss. You always seemed to live in the woods. I’m sure you’ll be very happy getting to work there every day.”

“Thanks, so you’re going on the tours with us?” I ask him, which is a silly question, really. I mean, why else would he be here.

Prim and Delly and Rye join us before he can answer. “Hey Katniss, glad you could make it,” Delly says. “Peeta here leapt at the chance to join us when he heard you would be here.”

“Delly,” Peeta grumbles as his ears turn red and Rye slaps him on the back.

I don’t know what to say, but we are spared any more embarrassment when Prim and I are called up to the desk to finally check in.

“We’ll meet you guys down here in about an hour for lunch,” Prim tells them after we are done checking in. After the others agree, I wave a weak goodbye before quickly turning away toward the staircase.

Our room is on the second floor, facing the street, so we’ll have access to the balcony as I had hoped. On our walk up the stairs, Prim tells me she and Delly booked the rooms specifically for the balcony. Only the rooms adjacent to the balcony have access to it. When we get to our room, we take turns to freshen up.

While Prim is still getting ready, I check the directory for someplace to eat. As I read down the list provided by the hotel, I find the perfect place. There’s a diner about a two-minute walk from here that I just have to take Prim to.

Prim comes out of the bathroom, as I’m entering the address into my phone. “I just got a text. Rue is here too. Ready to go get some lunch?” she asks.

“Yep, I found the perfect place.”

“Great, let’s go,” she says, and we head out the door.

We meet the others in the lobby, and Prim tells them I chose a place for lunch. Even though Peeta has been living here, he lets me lead the way.

“Hey, if we are going toward the waterfront, we should pass through Johnson Square. You’ll love it,” Peeta says.

I show him the directions on my phone, and he drags the line on our route to detour through the square.

Peeta was right. The landscaping is magnificent. “It’s beautiful,” I tell him, and he gives me a shy smile. The Spanish moss draping down from the trees creates a sort of canopy that remind me of the willow trees back home.

Once we are though the square, our stop is just around the corner. I can’t help but laugh at the look on Prim’s face when we arrive at the Little Duck Diner.

“How did you find this place?” she asks, clearly amused that there’s a restaurant that shares her nickname from when she was little. Her shirt tail used to stick out in the back when she was smaller than me and wore my hand-me-downs. I used to tell her, “Tuck in your tail, Little Duck,” and she’d give me a quack in reply.

“The name just popped out at me when I was going down the list of restaurants. We have to get a couple of glasses to take home with us, Little Duck,” I tell her.

“Definitely,” she says as we walk through the door. When we get inside, Prim and Rue sit together and start taking selfies with the menu’s and placemats. Delly and Rye, of course, sit together. Which leaves Peeta and I to awkwardly sit together as well.

After a great lunch, and some glasses to go, Peeta suggests we stop at Leopold’s for ice cream for the walk back to the hotel. It’s actually past the hotel, he explains, but we have time. Peeta leads us around, showing us the cobblestone streets, and historic buildings. We even walk down to the waterfront to see the river boats. Peeta and I are still stuck together, but he’s good company, so I don’t mind.

As we are walking back toward the hotel, Delly points out a sign for a psychic. “Let’s go there, guys,” she says, excitedly. “We can get our palms read, or whatever, you know. It should be fun!”

All that excitement in one person is hard to fathom, but Prim looks at me with her puppy dog eyes and I cave. I can’t believe we are going to see Tigris the psychic.

Tigris is a tall woman with catlike features. It’s hard to tell how old she is with all of the obvious cosmetic surgery she has had, but she has a kind soothing voice as she tells us about using her spiritual intuition to help us gain insight into our past, future and present. Whatever, she’ll just tell us what she thinks we want to hear all for the low, low price of just $30.

Delly asks is she and Rye can go together for the same $30, and Tigris agrees. Good, I don’t want to have to pay that much for some story she makes up for me.

After Delly and Rye follow Tigris into another room, Prim asks me if I mind if she goes in with Rue. “Sure, Little Duck,” I tell her. I’ll just wait for you guys to be done. I don’t need to have my future read.”

“Aw, come on, Katniss. What’s the fun of going to a psychic if we don’t all go?”

“Fine,” I grumble. That’s $30 I wasn’t planning on wasting.

“Thanks, Katniss,” Prim says with a smile as she and Rue are called back. Delly and Rye must have went out another door because they didn’t come back to the lobby with Tigris.

“I can pay for the reading for you, if you want,” Peeta tells me once we are alone.

“I don’t need your charity,” I tell him sharply. “I just don’t want to waste $30.”

 “Sorry, just trying to help,” he says. “How about we go in together and split the cost then?”

“Sure, I suppose that will be okay,” I say sheepishly. “Sorry for snapping at you.”

“No problem at all,” Peeta says with a smirk. “I like your fire.”

I don’t have time to question what he means by that when Tigris comes back. We follow her down a dark corridor into another room. This room has dark wooden paneling with no windows, and one other door besides the one we came in.

After Peeta and I each give her $15, we sit down at a wooden table. “Give me your hand,” she tells us. I’m not really sure which one of us she’s talking to, but Peeta holds out his hand to her. She grabs it between both of her slender hands and closes her eyes. She rocks back and forth for a few seconds humming to herself.

Peeta and I exchange a look before she opens her eyes and drops Peeta’s hand as if it were on fire.

“Give me your hand,” she says to me and reaches for it before I can even offer it up. She holds my hand between hers just as she did for Peeta and closes her eyes again. She doesn’t hold my hand for long before dropping it and opening her eyes.

“You two are soulmates,” she tells, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Of course, we are. That’s what you tell all of the couples who come in here, isn’t it? Soulmates,” I scoff and stand up to leave.

“No, it’s true,” Tigris defends as she and Peeta also stand. “I saw into your pasts. Both of your lives have been entwined for ages, but you were torn apart in the past. Now you have been brought together to right the wrong that was done in a previous life.”

“Sure thing, Tigris,” I tell her. “Come on, soulmate,” I tell Peeta as I grab his hand to drag him out of there. I head for the other door which opens into another corridor. Peeta stops me before we go through the last door which is probably where the others are waiting.

“Katniss hold on. Take a breath a moment. You don’t want to go out there angry. Prim will get worried, and I know you don’t want that.”

“You’re right,” I tell him as I take a deep breath. “That kind of stuff just makes me so mad.”

“I know,” Peeta says as he pushes a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “I know you don’t want to be with me, and I’m okay with that.” I shake my head and try to interrupt him, but he continues. “I know how much you love your sister. You want her to have a good time on this trip, so let’s put on smiles and forget what they psychic said.”

I plaster on what I hope looks like a smile. “Peeta, wait,” I start, but he opens the door before I can say anything. What would I tell him anyway? I never said I didn’t want to be with him, but we hardly know each other. He left school to come here. Now he lives here, and I live back home. How would it even work between us?

“How did it go?” Prim asks as we join them. She’s all smiles so she must have been happy with her reading.

“Just great, um,” I stumble for something to tell her, and I give Peeta a look that he seems to understand.

He adds, “Katniss is going to be very happy working for the parks department back home, and ‘m going to become a famous artist. How about you guys? What did she tell you?”

We all filter back outside as the others take turns telling us how Tigris told them that they would be successful in their future. I’m surprised she didn’t tell Rye and Delly they were soulmates too, but I don’t mention it.

After all that walking, we finally get back to the hotel. We all agree we’ll see each other again when it’s time for the tour to begin. Prim and I drop off our glasses from the Little Duck Diner and freshen up again. “You and Peeta seem to be getting along pretty well,” Prim says with a smirk while she’s brushing out her hair.

“What?” I ask, rebraiding my own hair. “We were just talking,” I tell her, as I try to hide the smile that comes when I think of him.

When it’s time, we meet the others in the lobby. There are a few other people milling around that must be a part of our tour. At exactly 7 pm, a pale woman with pinkish hair dressed in a spring green suit announces to the room, “Everyone who has signed up for the 7 pm ghost tour, please make your way over to me.”

Our group all share a smile and start walking over to her. We are joined by a beautiful couple: the woman with flowing dark brown hair and sea green eyes, and the man, tall, and athletic with copper hair. The man stands behind the woman with his arms wrapped around her waist, whispering in her ear, as she giggles. No one seeing them could doubt their love.  

The woman with pink hair looks around at the group and smiles. “Wonderful. You are all on time. Punctuality is a must. We have quite the tour ahead of us,” she says. “My name is Effie Trinket, and I am your tour guide. Our group must stick together for the next few hours, so please, let us go around the group. Please introduce yourself and let us know where we are from and what brought you to Savannah.

“I’ll go first. As I said, my name is Effie Trinket. I am originally from the capital, Atlanta, but I came to Savannah for a visit and fell in love with it. Now I share it with others.”

She gestures toward Prim and says, “Now you dear, please tell us, what is your name?”

Prim looks around the group, gives a little wave and says, “I’m Primrose Everdeen. I’m here with my sister Katniss,” she gestures to me and I nod to Effie. We’re here from Blue Ridge, North Carolina, just outside of Charlotte.”

“And why are you and your sister here, dear?” Effie asks.

“Oh yeah, um, we just graduated from college.” There’s a smattering of ‘congratulations’ around the group, and Prim continues, “Thanks, um, I’m going to go off to medical school soon, so we decided to take road trip together to celebrate with our friends from college.”

“Very nice,” Effie tells us. “Congratulations to the both of you. Anything you would like to add, Katniss?”

“Nope,” I tell her, and the others chuckle.

“Very well,” Effie says brightly. She motions to the other’s in our group. Delly, Rye, Peeta, and Rue all introduce themselves, then Effie moves onto the couple who are joining us. “Who is this lovely couple?”

The man speaks up, still wrapped around the woman, “Hi, I’m Finnick Odair, and this lovely lady is my wife Annie Cresta Odair.” Their eyes meet and they share a smile. Finnick continues, never taking his eyes off of Annie. “We’re from Biloxi Mississippi. We’re on our honeymoon. We’re working our way up the east coast.”

“Lovely,” Effie says. “Congratulations and thank you for spending part of your honeymoon with us.” Effie continues, “Now that the introductions are over, let get onto the tour. You may not know this, but Savannah is the most haunted city in the country. Our first stop will be the Moon River Brewing Company. Everyone please follow me.” Effie walks out of the front door on her precariously tall high heels as we follow behind her.

When we get outside, I can’t help but laugh. Our limousine is a converted hearse, just as Prim said.

Effie sits up front with the driver, as we all pile into the back. “After you,” Peeta says as he lets me get in first. I sit down next to Prim and Peeta sits down on my other side.

It’s a short drive to the Moon River Brewing Company. As we get out and congregate on the sidewalk outside, Effie explains that this location was formerly a hotel, and it has been voted the most haunted spot in Savannah. After we get our drinks at the bar – Effie recommends the smoking mirror drink, which as the name implies, smokes – she leads us down to the cellar and tells us the hotel was used as a hospital during the yellow fever epidemic. Ghosts of people who have died here have been seen wandering down here where the kept the bodies.

Next, she takes us upstairs to a roped off area that looks to be under construction. “You may be wondering why this area is part of the tour if it is in the middle of being renovated. Would you be surprised if I told you this area has been in this same condition for the past twenty years?”

We all look around, puzzled, then Effie continues, “There’s a ghost here named Coriolanus Snow who was a gambler who was killed in an altercation in that room. He is quite malevolent. He has thrown people across the room,” Someone in the group gasps, “and every time anyone has attempted to do any renovations up here, the work is destroyed when they come back in the next day. So, they have given up and left it to Mr. Snow. You may look into the area, but please do not go past the rope. We don’t want to make Mr. Snow angry.”

“Hey old Coriolanus, why don’t you tell us your secrets,” Finnick calls out as they look into the construction area. Annie shakes and grabs onto Finnick’s arm. He whispers something into her ear that makes her calm instantly.

After they go past, Delly and Rye peek in and Delly pulls Rye away rather quickly.

Peeta leans down and whispers in my ear, “Delly is such a scaredy cat. I’m surprised she agreed to go on this tour.”

The feel of Peeta’s breath on my neck makes me shiver. Peeta must notice because he asks me if I’m cold. “No,” I tell him truthfully because I’m actually feeling a little warm. Prim and Rue are all whispers and giggles as they rush past the roped area, barely looking in.

“After you,” Peeta says, as we step up to have a look. I truly do feel a chill just looking into the darkened room. I realize that we are the last two and I just want us to get out of here, but Peeta pulls me away before I can say anything. Effie is standing at the top of the stairs and directs us back down to the bar as she follows behind us.

After we each get a new drink, we are ushered back to the hearse, for our next stop on the tour, the Colonial Park Cemetery, which is according to Effie, the most haunted cemetery in the city. I sense a theme here.

Effie leads us among the head stones and goes on to explain, that burials here began in 1750, making it the final resting place of many of Savannah’s earliest residents. The numerous ghosts sightings here are believed to be the tragic victims of the Yellow Fever Epidemic that are buried here. Many people claim to have seen shadowy figures and hear voices calling out to join them.

Effie stops in front of a pair of graves with the same symbol that adorns the front of the Mockingjay House Hotel, the mockingjay inside a golden circle. “The story of this couple is quite tragic,” Effie says. “Haymitch Abernathy was a famous artist who owned quite a bit of land in the city. It was such a scandal when he married Maysilee Donner, a famous, but rebellious singer. They were both very successful, but they had their issues as most married couples do.”

Effie points to the heads stones. “You’ll notice the dates of their deaths are the same. That’s because Maysilee was murdered in her bed, and Haymitch was found dead at the bottom of the stairs.” Peeta and I share a look as Effie continues, “They now both haunt their old home.”

I just have to ask, so I speak up, “Effie, why is the symbol on their headstones the same as the one on our hotel?”

“Very observant, Katniss,” Effie tells me. “The Mockingjay House Hotel was once the Abernathy’s residence. Before it became a hotel, it was their home.”

“So, we are staying where they both died?” Annie asks incredulously, and Finnick wraps his arms tighter around her waist.

“Correct. But don’t worry, the room where Maysilee was murdered is on the fourth floor. That’s area is only open for tours, no guests stay there. It’s where we’ll be going next,” Effie tells us. “Let’s get back to the limousine so we can be on our way,” she says brightly.

After we all pack into the limousine, I notice Prim is subdued.

“What’s the matter, Prim?” I thought you liked the idea of staying at a haunted hotel?”

“That was before I knew who the ghosts were. I was just expecting some random apparition in white, not actual people with names,” she whines.

“You knew Mr. Snow’s name back at the brewery,” I remind her.

“That was different,” Rue chimes in. “We were only there for a few minutes. We got right out of there.”

“Yeah,” Prim says, “We’re staying at a place where people actually died.”

I’m at a loss for words, not sure what to say, but Peeta comes to the rescue once again. “Well, from what Effie says, the ghosts stay on the fourth floor, right?” He asks.

“Right,” both Prim and Rue answer doubtfully.

“So, they can’t get you in your rooms, or anywhere else in the hotel except on the fourth floor. And we’ll all be together when we tour the fourth floor, so you have nothing to worry about,” Peeta says, and the two seem to brighten at his words.

“Thanks, Peeta,” I tell him and give his hand a squeeze.

When we arrive back at the hotel, we all get out and Effie starts to tell us about its history. “The Mockingjay House Hotel is the oldest hotel in the city, built in 1851 as the Marshall House Hotel when Savannah’s population was booming from the new railroad coming through.” She goes on to tell us how the hotel once housed soldiers during the civil war and was used as a hospital during the yellow fever epidemic in the mid 1800’s.

“The hotel fell into disrepair in the early 1900, and was closed for some time, but Haymitch Abernathy bought it and renovated to the glory you see standing here today.” Effie starts walking around the lobby and showing us the paintings on the wall. “All of this artwork are original Abernathy’s. Haymitch was a very prolific painter, very in demand in his time. He even created sculptures.”

Effie leads us out to the courtyard. In the center is a large sculpture of the bird symbol from the door. Spotlights illuminate it from above. The bird, the mockingjay’s wings are raised up as if it is in mid-flight, surrounded by a golden circle. “Haymitch created this sculpture for Maysilee as a wedding gift. The mockingjay is her family symbol. By renaming the hotel in her honor and adding this sculpture, he showed her that the hotel belonged to her just as much as it did to him.

“Oh,” Delly sobs. “That’s so romantic,” she says and buries her face in Rye’s chest. Peeta and I give each other a smile at her reaction.

“Let’s head up to the fourth floor, shall we?” Effie says. She leads us back inside back to the lobby where we take the elevator up.

As soon as the elevator doors open, I feel that familiar sense of dread I felt last night in my dream. Effie walks us over to the windows on our left and shows us that they are facing the courtyard below. When I look down, the light reflects off of the golden bird statue and the flash reminds me of the lightning from my dream. I start to hyperventilate, and stagger back away from the windows.

I bump into Peeta, and he grabs my arms to steady me. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I’m not sure. I feel as though I’m losing my mind. I turn around to face him, but all I can see are the portraits behind him. The whole wall is covered in them, just like in my dream.

This can’t be the hallway from my dream; It can’t be, but it looks the same, right down to the hardwood floors.

Effie is leading the others down the hall, so I try to follow, but Peeta pulls me back. “Katniss, are you okay? You look like you don’t feel well.”

“Gee, thank,” I say, trying to be sarcastic, but my efforts fall flat.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“I’m okay, let’s just get this over with, okay?”

“Alright,” he says, but I can hear the doubt in his voice. “Just hold onto my arm.”

“Thanks,” I tell him as we turn in the direction the others have gone.

“Come on,” Peeta says as he pulls me along so we can catch up to the others.

When we catch up to the group, Effie is chattering away about the history of the people in the portraits, but I don’t pay any attention to what she has to say as my blood runs cold when see the door at the end of the hall. It’s the door from my dream. I know it is, and I feel that sense of dread all over again.  

Effie walks toward the door, and all I can think is how I don’t want to see what’s behind it.

I rush forward to stop her, but she pushes the door open just as I reach it, and all I can see is red as I scream out, “Somebody help me,” as I crumble to the floor and the world goes black.

____________

That’s the end of part one. I hope you liked it.

The diner, cemetery, brewery and ice cream shop are real places in Savannah’s historic district. Even the hotel is a real place, but I renamed it Mockingjay House Hotel.

This story will continue on AO3. 

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | i

genre: vampire!jaehyun [ mature | angst | smut ]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“father, i dreamt about a boy

his hands, bloodied

eyes like the shot of dawn

with the rebellion in his mouth

he tried to conquer

the moon

with the venom of his prayers

he tried to

search for a god

pray tell me father,

how do i love him

with no flesh, all blood

heaven help us,

how could he love me

if i am the sun?”

— jungcity, bane of the devil // i

Raindrops danced in the air as they fall from the clouds with the squalling winds intensifying the impact of it against the glass window panes. The murmurs and complaints filled the whole room, your classmates begging your professor to turn off the air conditioner. Your mechanical pencil lay forgotten above your table as you stare at the horizon from your seat beside the window. Oh, how you longed for your bed in this cozy weather.

Seven a.m. to seven p.m. class should be classified as a mortal sin— you could not, in the life of you, understand that type of abomination. It is cruel beyond reckoning. Especially when you sit on a room of thirty people, doing nothing as the heavy drops of rain and the cool atmosphere it provides slowly lulls you to slumber.

The only thing that prevented you from doing so was the loud slap of your professor’s hands on table, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. “Alright! Stop chattering!” He yelled as he raised a piece of paper in the air.

You slumped back in your seat. Here we go again. Every time your professors raise their hands while holding papers, you could not help but release a groan.

“Here is the plan for your next plate,” he started. “Photocopy it, take a picture of it, it’s up to you.” He then handed the papers to the student in front. You stared as your classmate’s face crumpled into a grimace while he skimmed the document. That— without a doubt— would also be your face once you get a hold of the plan.

“Just like the last time, bind your A3 papers with two fasteners. There must be a separate sheet for the front page. And please,” the professor exhaled, “Please don’t forget your names! How would I give you a failing grade if I don’t know who you are.” The groans rose up again from the students, your own commixing with the chaos of curses and prayers and the laugh of your professor.

“Hey, hey! Haechan!” You grabbed your friend’s shirt as he scurried off to your classmate in the front row. “Take a picture and send it to the group chat.”

He snatched his shirt away from your grasp while glaring at you, “I know! I know! Wait here.” Then he pulled out his phone, waving it onto your face before dashing to your classmate who has the plan.

You fished for your own phone inside your bag when a boy sat in front of you. He rested his arm on your table and propped his chin on his palm. “Damn, I’m surely gonna die before this semester ends.” Mark groaned, his eyes looking at your table.

You chuckled from your seat, “Three major plates to go, buddy.”

“I’m gonna sell my soul to Satan so I don’t have to do any of this bullcrap.” Haechan threw his phone on to the table. Luckily, you caught it before it slid down and shattered on the hard floors. He let out an infuriated sigh before grabbing one of the chairs and sitting on it beside your table.

“It’s that bad?” Mark grimaced as he pressed the power button of Haechan’s phone. The light of the screen illuminated his soft features in an instant, “Wow. Your phone’s brightness could blind a person,” Mark stated while blinking rapidly.

Haechan said nothing as he leaned his head on your table. You peek at the phone yourself, Mark slowing down his scrolling as you leaned closer.

“Five-storey residential? What?!” You exclaimed. Tons of plates are slowly piling up to you bedroom. Your drafting table could not even hold them anymore, they are littered all over the mattress and the whole place. As your eyes scrutinized the image of the plan, Mark let out a curse as he read the requirements of the residential building.

“Oh, no. The measurements are given,” Mark exchanged glances with you. “I won’t do this shit.” Then the phone toppled over the table again after Mark threw it. Haechan snatched his phone back with a special glare meant only for Mark before laying his head back on the table.

The rain continued to ravage the roof and the ground as the three of you rested your heads on your desk. Chatters and the shuffling of drafting materials once again dominated the whole room, with a few of your classmates cursing at the back as they play their online games.

“I had at least thirty-minutes of sleep today,” you declared. Your eyes feels heavy and your body seemed to be softening and turning into jelly by the sleep deprivation.

“Wow. I didn’t even have a blink of sleep myself.” Haechan mumbled, face still covered by his arms.

After your heavy nap, the three of you woke up with red-rimmed eyes. If you could continue sleeping in your room until tomorrow, you would. But of course, that is not possible.

Your classmates started to pack their things as the professor came back and dismissed the whole class. It has always been like that; your prof giving yet another plan and then dismissing the whole class two or three hours earlier than the scheduled time. You would have not attended today’s class if not for the other plates that needed to be submitted.

Despite the sullenness of your house because of your brother’s absence, you still wanted to go home and nap. It does not matter if you have mountains of plates to do, what truly matters is you, going home to the tranquility and safety of your house before midnight. It was a habit you’ve grown accustomed to since the untimely death of your parents.

Your path goes different ways from Mark and Haechan. That’s why you sat alone in the bus as they stand in the waiting shed while waiting for theirs. Both of them waved at you, mouthing the words ‘take care’. You answered them with a slight wave of your hand before putting on your earbuds.

The rain has calmed down already, leaving the stores drenched, the highway splotched with circles of rainwater. Yet the lightning still dominated the skies, white lights flashing like roots reflected in your irises as you stare at the bleakness of the heavens through the bus’ windows. The speed of the vehicle made everything blurry; from the blustery wind slapping against the trees to the lights from different stores. They filled your sight as the music continued to blast in your ear.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, stopping the music. You glanced at the screen and saw your brother’s caller ID. Johnny. Automatically, your brow shot up to your forehead. He has been away for two weeks now, doing God only knows what on the other side of the ocean. Of course, your big brother calls every night to check up on you. But tonight, he called earlier than usual.

You attempted to slide the green button when your cell phone flew away from your grasp, your head hitting the seat in front of you, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Loud protestations echoed from the students and elders alike, their own faces bedraggled as they recover themselves from the impact of the bus drawing to a halt.

“What happened?” An elderly woman asked, her hand on the middle of her chest while breathing heavily.

“There’s a person who crossed the road.” The conductor explained, but his words sounded unsure.

The woman’s eyes widened, “Is the person alright?” She stood up from her seat, one hand grabbing the railings in front of her.

“That’s what we’re confused about, Ma’am. The person is nowhere on the asphalt. He ran with a dashing speed… it’s impossible.” You didn’t know if it was amazement or fear that was laced with the conductor’s voice, but his statement caught your attention nonetheless.

The nagging curiosity inside your chest spreads like wild fire. If ever your intuition is right, you have to find that person or whatever that is. A speed like that could only be achieved by one creature. Your brother might call you a freak or a delusional little girl again, but it might be the only way to get answers. Answers that he did not bother to find when your parents died.

The truth is, years ago, your parents had their inopportune death. But the authorities has not yet to find the murderer. How could they? When there was no DNA in the crime scene but your parents’. How could they? If the murderer was not even a person to begin with.

Deep in your heart, you know. You know the world is enfolded with mysteries that a human mind would not be able to perceive. Cloak-and-dagger as it is, you understood that reality the moment you saw the two dots that were obviously from a penetration of fangs embedded in your parents’ necks.

‘Vampire! Vampire!’ was your unending scream at the morgue. Since you were only a little girl back then, no one paid attention to you. Not the policemen, not even your brother.

It did not surprise you when everyone called it a hopeless case. In their eyes, it was. But in yours, it’s not. Ever since your parents were murdered, you have been drinking the myths and lore of vampires. Day and night you devoured books, watched vampire sightings, studied their strengths as well as their weaknesses. It simply was a thirst you could not quench.

It was like that until you started college. You could not simply search for a free time to indulge yourself about those undead, blood-sucking creatures any longer. But every articles, every information, were still plastered to a blackboard inside your bedroom. A reminder of what you have been sleuthing for all your life.

Yellow lights illuminated the pool of waters on the asphalt road. You tiptoed as to prevent your shoes from getting soaked. Plastics, styrofoams, as well as vegetables skins from the uncollected drenched trash bins littered all over the street.

At long last, the shadow of your apartment appeared. Darkness invaded the vicinity, a quiet reminder that there isn’t any person present inside. You pulled out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, ten missed calls from Johnny were displayed in the notifications. Frustrated from what happened inside the bus, you continued to ignore his calls earlier, despite your phone vibrating continuously.

Your phone’s flashlight casted a white light upon the dimness. Keys in your left hand, and your phone in your right, you struggled to jam the keys into the hole. When the gates finally opened, you sent Johnny a text that says you’re already home.

“At long fucking last.”

Your phone went flying to the grass yet again as you saw a figure looming in the shadows. A silent curse slid past your lips as you hurriedly picked it up, dead and wet grass sticking onto the screen. Once again, you pressed the flashlight button to see through the darkness.

And there, in the corner near the door, a man with a bloodied face stares at you with a cigar in between his lips. Spontaneously, your heart thudded frantically in your chest. You wanted to shout, but the scream bubbled out in your mouth and then nothing came out.

“Who are you?” You managed to ask.

The man didn’t answer. He pulled something out of his pockets. You took a step back. Only when he struggled to light his cigarette you realized it was only a lighter. His hands continued to shake, and you have no idea why haven’t you screamed for help yet. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, you do not doubt the saying as your curiosity ascended your fear.

“Care to light this for me, kitten?” He stretched out his hand to offer you the lighter. His endearment catching you like a deer in the headlights.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? All bloodied?”

The man sighed and started to light his cigar again. “The name’s Jaehyun. I’m friends with your brother, Johnny.” He offered you the lighter once more, “Now, will you light this up for me? As you can see, I’m shaking and bleeding.”

After his last word, you glanced up and down his body, the light of your phone following your action. And then you saw as blood poured out from a wound on his side. You hadn’t noticed it earlier because of his black shirt.

“What— I don’t— are you alright?” What stupid, stupid question. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Is this why your brother were so eager to call you? Because apparently, his friend stands bloodied in front of your doorstep.

“I feel like shit but I’m alright.” Smoke puffed out of his lips as he succeeded in lighting his cigarette after numerous attempts. “Won’t you open the door?” He nudged his head to the direction of the door. You blinked and felt the keys in your palms again.

“Tell me what’s happening first.”

It’s cruel, but if he manages to stay alive while blood gushes out of his stomach, you believed he could concisely explain to you what’s going on.

“Women are so fucking difficult,” he mumbled. “I will tell you everything once we’re inside and you’re stitching up my goddamned wound.”

“What?!” It was a scream more than a word. “Listen, I don’t know how to stitch up—”

He cut you off, “Well that’s a pity.” Then he threw away the bud of the cigarette to the ground. “Listen, I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” then he licked his lips, “Better open this door so we could get to business.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything to me.” It’s childish and you feel pathetic, but you said it anyways. Perhaps this man in front of you has a bottle of conscience in his system despite his unkempt look.

Jaehyun only looked at you, face impassive. “You’re not my type.”

You choked on your own saliva. “You’re unbelievable.” You ignored his smirk as you sauntered up to the door. Both of you were enveloped in a silence, the only noise coming from the keys jamming into the keyhole.

Another darkness greeted you as you opened the door, you searched for the switch with your sweaty hand. The metal tang the keys left on your palm wafted your nose, making you feel gross and dirty.

You wrenched the keys out of the hole as the light finally infiltrated the living room. Your brow shot up when Jaehyun made no move to enter the house.

“Invite me first,” he stated.

If you could raise your brow higher, you would. His question was unexpected for someone itching to enter your house mere minutes earlier.

“Come… in?” You reluctantly offered.

There was mischief and bad news in his eyes as he stepped inside the house. “So the authorities would say that you invited me willingly.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” You demanded, gripping the doorknob tightly.

He only winked at you. But you are not having any of it. It was a bad idea inviting this stranger inside.

“Get out.” You ordered. Jaehyun attempted to say something but you repeated the words with enough ferocity. “Get out!”

He held up his hand, his right pulling out something from his pockets again. A paper.

“Here.”

You stared at the paper for a good two minutes before you snatched it away from his hand.

This is to certify that the apartment owned by Johnny and Y/N Y/L/N has been sold and therefore owned by Mr. Jung Jaehyun.

No. No, no, no. The paper must be a trick. It’s probably a forged paper made by this man in front of you to take his advantage and trick you.

“This is forged.” You balled the paper and threw it his way. Jaehyun picked it up with bloodied fingers. His shirt was now saturated with his blood. But you could not bring yourself to care now that he poses a threat to your safety.

“Forged? Do you not recognize the lawyer who signed this paper?” He started to flatten out the paper again. “The best in town. You could go to his office right now to inquire about this. But I won’t waste money if I were you.”

For the second time that night, you snatched away the paper from him. It was completely crumpled, but the texts printed out were still glaring at you. You skimmed the printed letters with your head spinning, eyes only stopping when you see three signatures below. One for your brother, one for Jaehyun, one for the attorney. It was signed by a pen, that much you’re sure of. Being an architecture student familiarized you to different type of pens. You’re certain they had used a ballpoint pen to sign the contract.

Still, you went dumbfounded as you let the realization hit you. Your brother, Johnny, just sold your apartment for this blood soaked guy in front of you.

“Since when?” You asked through gritted teeth, not looking up from the papers.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, his hand clamping his wound. “Since last week.”

“Will you…” You sighed, it was so difficult to get the words come out, “… will you let me stay the night? I promise I’ll go first thing in the morning.” Your hand which is holding the paper shook. Mixed feelings of anger, shame, and confusion swirled in your head.

Jaehyun waved his hand before sitting on the sofa, his bloodied hands imprinting the arms of it red. You bit back the anger as you realized that you have no rights to be angry.

“You could stay the night, of course.” He reclined his head, “But stitch me up first before you go packing.”

How had he managed to stay alive with the loss of too much blood, you have no idea. But you shook your head and declined him again, “I don’t know how. You might get an infection.”

“Needle… I need a needle,” He breathed and shut his eyes, you panicked as you thought he passed out already. But then he opened his one eye and fixed it to you, “I’ll do it myself.”

“Why don’t we just go to the hospital?”

It was embarrassing that you only thought of the idea now. But Jaehyun only snorted, “Trust me, that’s the last resort you’d think of if you truly knew me.”

There is no point talking to him. His mouth pours metaphors you could not be bothered to comprehend. So you trudged the distance to the small drawer laying just below the television and grabbed the sewing kit inside.

You laid it on the table. Jaehyun groaned before grabbing the needle and the thread. He does not look pained. He looks more tired. And only when you were sitting beside him you noticed how pale he appeared to be. His lips looked wan, his face pallid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hos—”

“No,” was his monosyllabic reply. You didn’t press any further.

Jaehyun started to insert the thread through the needle, but like his dreaded attempts to lit his cigarette earlier, his aim to get the thread through the little hole went in complete vain. “Fuck,” he muttered as the pin dropped on the floors.

“Let me.” You finally offered before picking up the needle and seizing the thread from his grasp. With your one eye shut close, you dampened the needle with your tongue before thrusting it through the hole. In a blink, you succeeded.

“Here—” You were cut off once again when Jaehyun’s body fell back on the sofa. His eyes closed. The nervous and shock kicked in your stomach as you leaned closer to him but felt nothing in his chest. He doesn’t look like he is breathing, too.

“Oh my God, don’t fucking die.” You repeated the words as you grabbed your phone and dialed nine-one-one. Sweats started to form in your forehead, your own heart beating in a panic-stricken rhythm.

The ringing stopped, and the voice of the person from the other side greeted you calmly.

“I— there’s— I—” Your words are incoherent from the panic that is vibrating from your head to your toes. The person tried to calm you down but to no avail. You inhaled and exhaled, mind blank. “I—” Then a hand grabbed your wrist. You jumped in your seat, only to see Jaehyun, wide-eyed looking at you.

“I told you, no doctors.”

“But— how— what?” How is he alive?

“I am fine. Just really need to stitch this up so I could recover easily.” Then his eyes started to lose their life again.

“Don’t! Don’t sleep! Stay awake!” You screamed at him. Jaehyun began to lose consciousness again. The forgotten thread and needle was back on your hands in an instant. Loud sets of profanities reverberated from your mouth as you lifted his shirt. You exhaled as you saw the long laceration starting from beside his navel to his waist.

“I can’t do this alone, I just can’t.” You swallowed, praying that his innards won’t slide out of his stomach. Where did he get this wound?

“You have no other choice, have you?” He whispered, voice straining. “Just close it and stitch it. I won’t scream,” he expressed.

“That’s not my problem! What if.. what if I’ll make it worse?”

“You won’t.” Jaehyun looked at you with hooded eyes.

This is not what you’ve expected to come home to. The schedule was to go home, eat, shower, and start your plates. Stitching up a long god-forsaken wound wasn’t on your to-do list.

You closed your eyes, trying to inhale and exhale. When you felt like your mind was clear of worries, you finally opened your eyes and started to hold Jaehyun’s skin. The tang of blood filled the whole room, your fingers sliding as it touched his bloodied skin. You let out a breath before clamping the open wound with your fingers, your other hand working its way to pierce the needle into his skin.

Goosebumps ran down your spine as you felt the needle pierced his flesh. White thread came out red as you pulled it to fasten his skin back together. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you pushed on with your work. With each pierce and puncture, your tension and the shaking of your hands lessened.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jaehyun when you were finally in the middle of the wound. He did not utter a word ever since you started; not a protest nor a painful scream.

“Yes… it does not hurt.” His voice came out as a whisper that you doubted his answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If I am in your position right now, I would’ve screamed like hell. Imagine, we didn’t use any anesthesia, but you still managed to look comfortable and calm,” you mumbled, trying to keep Jaehyun awake.

“Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” A small chuckle resonated from your throat then. Jaehyun popped an eye open, and you waited for some dramatic lines like ‘I’m used to the pain’ to escape his lips, but his answer drew you to a sudden halt instead.

“Because I am a vampire.”

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