#i think i remember actually crying that night i tried to write the better version

[i-write-things]

Obey Me! NB boys: Who would most willingly have kids

(Note: NONE of them would ever pressure you into having kids. I'm saying this now so I don't have to repeat it every time.)

1.Beelzebub:

Any surprise here? I can't remember where I saw it, but I do remember seeing somewhere he said he'd love to start a family. If you don't ask him about kids, he might ask you, first. He'd be a great dad, too. He'd be calm, supportive, and his kids would always be well fed and have plenty of exercise. They'd grow up big and strong like him! :) He'd also do that thing when they're little (and when theyre grown, too) where He'd use them as weights to lift up while he does push ups. He'd also carry them on his back everywhere. If it's a baby, he'd be a little tired of having to get up every night to calm their screams, but he'd get used to it because he makes himself a deal: he'll just get a snack every time the baby cries at night. Speaking of if it's a baby, he'd be afraid he'd crush it at first, and refuse to hold them. But once he finally holds them, he refuses to let any stranger hold them. His biggest fear is his child not being safe. Protective Beel! Oh, and they'd get a LOT of visits from uncle Belphie.

2.Mammon

Ok, here me out- he'd essentially be Bandit from Bluey (Dont ask). He'd make sure his kids are clever and he'd most certainly teach them to gamble from a young age, and how to cheat. He'd be very over protective, but also really fun. His worst nightmare is his kids growing up to hate him. He'll never admit it, but he stops cheating so much to earn money. While he wants his kids to grow up learning how to make quick cash, deep down, he just wants them to be good kids. So he also tries to set a good example and work for his money. All his brothers are shocked, and they'll tease him for it. And of course, Mammon being Mammon, will deny deny deny! The brother that baby sits the most for him is probably Lucifer, actually. (He doesn't trust Mammon at first. Jk, he trusts Mammon a lot with this, actually.... mostly)

3. Satan

You may be thinking, 'Pen, you're absolutely stupid and don't know anything about OM!, nor how to write in character', and you may be right, but let me cook!

You see, Satan at first isn't too keen on the idea of a child. All they do is scream and cry shit themselves and eat then cry some more. And when they're a teenager, they'll just sass him. And he does NOT like the idea of that. But all you have to do is appeal. Example:

Tell him to imagine the following: A 4 or 5, maybe even 6 year old boy or girl that's a mini version of him. Running around the house of lamentation, screaming curses about Lucifer, who can't do anything because they're a child who doesn't know any better. They'd be able to get away with anything and he could use that to his advantage. Now he's hooked, and he'll think about it, but despite his hate for poor Luci, he's still aware that it's a lot of responsibility. Which is why you have to reassure him that that's why you'll raise the baby together. Plus, imagine taking the child to the library, reading to them. They get to develop their own personality. Which is when teenhood becomes fun, because it's not about the sass, it's about the fun personality they've developed.

His biggest fear for his child is his child becoming like him. He doesn't want that. He'd prefer his child become like Lucifer than to see himself in his child (though not by a lot) Oh, and he trusts Asmo enough to be super gentle with the child. (Mostly because he threatened to kill Asmo if the baby is hurt) but also because he knows that the baby would be in gentle hands!

4. Lucifer

Lucifer isn't so quick to agree for 2 reasons.

He's always busy, what if he ends up neglecting the child in favor of work? And then you'll end up taking care of the child in its most vital years to have both parents present (though every year is vital to have both parents present). Of course, you'll just reassure him that Diavolo would give him some leave time in favor of raising the baby, and the brothers would help with his work load in the meantime.

2. Ok, but what about his brothers? That's the thing, he feels like he's already a father of 6. He won't be able to look after them as much because a baby is far too much time. They'll be running loose like chickens without heads in no time. You'll have to tell him he'll just have to have faith in his brothers. At first, he scoffs at the idea. But...he thinks about it. And the more he does, the more he agrees. Finally, he'll take you out somewhere private to tell you that he agrees. He wants to have a baby.

His worst fear is his child not feeling like he was present in his life. He already knows what it's like to have someone related to you hate youSatan, so it would be nothing new to him, though it would still hurt. Yet, his worst fear is his child growing up feeling like he was never there for his them. This will result in him constantly switching his attention time during teenage years from super clingy because he wants to be present, to a little distant because he doesn't want to come off as clingy. You better bring it to his attention and help him find a happy medium before your child starts to resent him for this. Oh, and the brother he trusts most to look after his kid is Mammon. This may sound stupid, but we all know Mammon would at least keep the kid alive. (Like Satan, he'll tear Mammon limb from limb if otherwise) but if Mammon isn't present, he'll ask Satan. Though, he can't be surprised if Satan has taught his child how to say 'fuck Lucifer' as one of their first phrases.

5. Asmodeus

Like Satan, he doesn't really want a child for the same reasons. They just cry, they take a lot of time, he won't be able to get his beauty sleep at night, ect. Also like Satan, you'll just have to appeal. Imagine all the cute family photos he can take! Plus, wouldn't the child be beautiful? 'Oh, but what about when they grow up and go through some weird emo phase?' Well, you guys will just have to accept them for that. And when (if) they grow out of the phase, y'all can continue to support them and then finally take family pictures again. And if they never grow out of the goth phase, you'll just have another Belphie. He laughs, and is a little more calm. It takes maybe some few months before he brings up the idea, saying that he thinks he's ready. His biggest fear is his child growing up unloved by their peers, so he tries to dress them up pretty all the time. You might have to remind him to let the child explore their own style for a bit, and he'll reluctantly agree at first, then be very willing later on. He doesn't want people to see his child as anything but pretty, but understands how important it is for the child to have their own style and feel supported for it. But he's keeping all them embarrassing baby photos. And he's definitely showing them off to his child's romantic partner (if they're not aro/ace). The brother he trusts the most to handle his child is Lucifer. He knows the child will be safe. He would pick Satan, but....y'know.

6. Leviathan

For obvious reasons, at first it's a no. He won't be able to play games as much, the baby will always be crying, ect. But you'll have to remind him that it's a team effort, and he won't be the only one taking care of the child. Plus, once the baby grows up, he'll always have someone to play games with. To which he responds they might not like games. You can counter that if they're constantly surrounded by games, they'll become a familiar source of comfort, and they'll likely love games. Same for any cartoon or anime he makes them watch. He'll give you plenty of excuses, but they're all bullshit. His biggest reason(and secret) is he thinks he'll be a horrible, embarrassment of a father. His child won't think he's cool, and might even get bullied a lot. I mean, imagine having some lame Otaku for a father. Sad, right? But just tell him that his child will love him because he's their father, and no matter what, they'll be proud to call him dad, just like you'll be proud to call him their dad. He tears up afterwards, and maybe a while later, he'll shyly approach you and tell you he's ready. He'll pay less attention to video games and anime for a while, but when he gets a break, if he's not sleeping, he's catching up on all the anime. His worst fear is his child becoming lonely like him. So he makes sure the child grows up with a pet of some kind. That way, they'll learn to be social. Oh, and if it's a boy, he'll try his damndest to name him Henry, and if it's a girl, Hana and/or Yuri. The brother he trusts the most is also Lucifer. He would say Beel, but he doesn't want him to eat his child (Beel would never), and he would say Asmo, but he doesn't want to receive an Asmo Jr. Oh, and Mammon isn't allowed near the child.

7. Belphagore

Last, and least surprisingly, Belphie. A child is wayyyyyyy too much responsibility for little old him. Plus, they cry all the time, he wouldn't be able to sleep. I'm not sure if you really could convince him to have a baby. If you did, it would be years in advance before he would agree. I think the best route is to just prove to him that the responsibility will be shared (and worth it), and he could still get sleep from time to time. Which would help. But if y'all ever do have a baby, he'll slack off a lot. You'll probably get into a couple of arguments because you'll be doing most of the work in toddler and infant years. (Most likely to get divorced over the child if y'all are married. Not saying it will happen, though. Just most likely out of the brothers.) Eventually, after ranting to Beel, he'll realize he has been a shit father at first. To the child, and to you. (Thank Beel for getting through to him). Like Beel, his worst fear is his kids not being safe. He really doesn't care how they turn out as long as they're happy and healthy. After he finally starts taking initiative as a parent, he becomes over protective. If its a girl, he sees Lilith in her, and he wont let her go. Obviously, he trusts Beel the most with his kids.

[aphelea]

like an old enemy (keefitz)

Ao3 Link

hi @when-wax-wings-melt i was your secret santa!! apologies for the late gift, it got slightly longer than expected, but i hope you enjoy this keefitz royal AU :)

(also thank you @song-tam for hosting this!)

quick note: the fic is non-linear and the scenes alternate between the adult and child/teenage versions of fitz and keefe, with excerpts of letters in between.

Summary: There’s a long pause before Keefe finally replies. “I swear to the moon and the stars, Fitz. I would never, ever kill the only person who ever loved me like a son.”

And how could Fitz’s will ever hold against that?

(Or, the story of two princes, through childhood wonder and wartime unrest.)

Warnings: vague mention of vomiting and canon-typical violence

-

The guards find Fitz in the garden at sunrise, pen in hand as he attempts to write a letter to be sent with tonight’s delivery to Candleshade. He is surrounded by drafts deemed unworthy of his intended recipient’s eyes—though, these days, Fitz thinks that nothing he could write would ever be truly worthy enough for him. No words could ever fully communicate what he needs to say—and yet he tries anyway.  

“You’re here early,” Fitz says, upon hearing approaching footsteps. He pats his pockets frantically and sighs. “I’m afraid I don’t have any payment for the delivery right now. Or a delivery at all, actually.” He turns, expecting to see the palace’s messenger—but he is instead met with the carefully blank faces of five goblin guards, each quickly moving to surround him. Grizel, his personal bodyguard, stands in the middle, but she refuses to meet his gaze—Fitz’s first clue that something is terribly wrong. 

“Your Highness,” one goblin begins, after a long moment of tense silence. “I—”

She’s cut off by a scream, loud and harrowed, from inside the palace. Immediately, Fitz scrambles up and reaches for his own sword, but is stopped by Grizel’s outstretched arm. He casts her a quizzical look, but she only shakes her head and looks toward the doors. 

“Who did this?” comes the next cry, now in his mother’s voice. Fitz’s heart stops for a moment. He’s never known such anguish from her. 

“Grizel?” he asks, and his voice wavers dangerously. “Who…”

Fitz can’t bring himself to say the words. Of course, it isn’t the first time that rebels have come after one of their own—he still vividly remembers the night of Jolie’s death, and how the fires had been so deceptively warm for a moment—but today, of all days? If he knew better, he’d take it as a sign from the universe. 

But even the universe could not have prepared him for the words Grizel utters. 

“King Alden,” she says quietly, and the world stops for a moment.

Even the birds are silent, as if mourning alongside him. 

Fitz’s throat thickens. He’d seen his father just hours ago, in this very garden. They’d spoken about the state of the world, and as always, he’d told Fitz that there was no reason to worry about the rebels, and Fitz had scoffed and told him to stop treating him like a child. Was that truly the last thing he’d said to him? The last thing he would ever say to him? 

His turmoil must be evident on his face, as Grizel reaches out and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. But he can only stare at the ground, unblinking. 

“I thought the palace was secure,” he says, after a long moment—ever since rebels burned the old Havenfield Palace, the Alliance kingdoms have been incredibly careful with who enters and exits the palace grounds. Everglen is perhaps the most secure kingdom of the five—or, rather, it used to be. 

From the grim expressions on the guards’ faces, that might no longer be the case.

“It appears to have been the work of a clever assassin,” Grizel says, and Fitz is surprised to see true fear in her eyes. In all his years of knowing her, nothing has ever shaken her composure, and certainly not enough to be plainly visible on her face. “They somehow exploited a secret entry into the palace just outside the gardens.” 

A secret entry. 

Fitz tries his best not to react, but he knows the recognition is all-too-obvious on his face. The only other person who knew about the path was…no, that’s impossible. He wouldn’t do this. 

And Fitz wants, so desperately, to believe it. He wants to say that he trusts him more than anything—but when it comes down to it, in the final choice between right and wrong? Fitz isn’t sure where he would go. 

Keefe has no reason to kill a king, he tells himself. 

But the people he keeps company with certainly do, his mind rather unhelpfully supplies. 

Fitz shakes his head, as if that will erase the presence of his thoughts. Why does he torment himself with speculation like this? He looks to Grizel, trying to appear as unshaken as possible, the furthest from his true turmoil. “Who did it?” he asks; the only way he has ever taken after his mother. 

Grizel is silent and unreadable. But she has experience in stealth that the other guards do not, so the glances between them are all-too-obvious to Fitz now. “Who did it?” he repeats, raising his voice. “Who? Answer me!”

“Fitz,” Grizel warns, in that familiar way that tells him he won’t like the answer. 

“Was it Alvar?” he asks, well aware that his voice is slipping into an unrestrained shout, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Quinlin? Biana?” She frowns, but remains silent. “Somebody just tell me!” He doesn’t realize he’s drawn his knife until it’s pointing at Grizel, tickling her throat. 

Gently, she removes it, watching him with all the sorrow he’s not sure he deserves. “We recovered one of the many arrows found at the scene. It carried a…familiar flag.”

“Of the rebels?” Fitz asks. He knows the sign of the swan by heart; he has known it since it graced the cloaks of Jolie’s murderers, all those years ago. And it would make sense—too much sense, perhaps.

“No,” she replies, her voice so soft it’s barely a whisper. “Though that would be more predictable.”

“Then who?” Fitz asks, racking his brain for another group that would both want his father dead and shatter him badly. He doesn’t exactly keep close connections with many people, personally. With war looming over them, it’s easier to trust nobody but the people he loves.

Grizel lets out a shaky breath. “It carried the flag of Candleshade.”

Oh.

Oh, God. 

Fitz leans over and throws up in the roses. 

-

Dear Prince Keefe,

Hi! It’s me. Fitz. Obviously you know that, because what other royal from Everglen would be writing to you (unless you’re secretly pen pals with Biana, which would be weird since she doesn’t even know how to send a letter yet. Also, her handwriting is atroshous atrocuos atrocious.) I figured since it takes forever to get from Candleshade to here, it might be easier for us to send letters while we can’t see each other. Although, my father says that your father is coming over next month for a trade meeting, so maybe you can come then?

(Please come. Biana and I are really bored without anyone else our age around.) 

Anyway, I used that goop you gave me earlier to prank my bodyguard. It worked! She was stuck to the wall and I swear it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Biana and I were laughing so hard that the other guards ran in because they thought we were choking! Then we had to get her out, sadly, and Grizel was pretty mad, even though some of the other guards were definitely laughing too. But at least I didn’t have to do my sword fighting training. So thank you! I’m sending some ripplefluffs along with this letter as a thank-you gift. 

(I didn’t make them, though. I’m still banned from the kitchens after that prank we pulled last time.)

Oh, and on that note, I also found…

-

The first time Fitz speaks to Keefe, it’s by Jolie’s insistence. They’re eight years old, sitting in the gardens of Everglen and pointedly avoiding each other’s gazes—it’s the first time that the prince of Candleshade has ever visited, and he seems to be much more interested in his sketchbook than speaking to any of the other children. Though Fitz isn’t exactly interested in being social, either; he’s still sulking from being banned from the meeting room, despite the fact that he’s certainly old enough to be discussing grown-up matters. And if Alvar is going to be there, then why isn’t Fitz allowed? It’s all stupid. And unfair. And stupidly unfair. 

The Princess of Havenfield, to her credit, listens to all of Fitz’s concerns. She doesn’t let him leave, of course, but at least she doesn’t treat him like a baby like other adults. This appeases Fitz a bit—but that still doesn’t mean he wants to run around the gardens playing games with his little sister and her new best friend. He’s not six anymore. 

“I know you’re not,” Jolie says, sighing. “But I’m sure they would still really appreciate it if you joined them. Hey, you two, what game are you playing?” She directs the last sentence to the two girls who are currently galloping around a tree and waving sticks around wildly. 

Princess Stina stops and grins. “Super Cowboys!” she shouts gleefully, then returns to hitting the air violently. Woltzer, Biana’s bodyguard, watches the whole situation with clear discomfort—it’s only a matter of time before he’s forced into playing one of their characters. Likely as whatever thing they’re killing. 

Jolie raises an eyebrow. “And what are you cowboys fighting?”

“Rebels,” Biana answers, glaring at whatever imaginary person she must see in front of her. “We’re fighting rebels!”

Jolie pales, ever so slightly, but she still manages a smile. “See?” she tells Fitz. “You can play a…rebel-fighting cowboy.”

“I don’t want to be a cowboy. I hate cowboys.” Truthfully, Fitz doesn’t know much about them, but he definitely doesn’t want to be running around with a bunch of babies. He’s almost nine. If he’s going to be a good prince for his kingdom, he has to give up on childish pretend games now. 

“Why?” Jolie asks. “Cowboys can be fun.”

“Yeah, but you only think that because you live in the land of cowboys. That’s different.” Fitz has never been to her kingdom, but he remembers learning about Havenfield during his diplomacy lessons—while it’s certainly not lawless, the towns on its outskirts are nowhere a prince should be sent to. Plus, it’s the closest Alliance kingdom to rebel country, so danger is always lurking around the corner outside the capital. 

Grizel snorts behind him, and Jolie sighs. “Look,” she tells him, standing up, “it’s fine if you don’t want to play with them. But your father told me to watch over you here, so don’t plan on going anywhere else. At least, nowhere where I can’t see you.”

Fitz only wrinkles his nose and turns away. Why can’t his father just trust him? Alvar’s been attending Alliance meetings since he was nine. And Fitz has excelled in all his lessons; he’s done even better than his brother in most of them. And he’s not ignorant, either—he knows why today’s meeting was called. He’s heard the whispers of the growing rebel conflicts in all the kingdoms; he’s heard the rumours being spread about the real reason the Crown Princess of Havenfield was sidelined to babysitting instead of speaking for her kingdom. Rebel sympathies, they say. Will Princess Jolie’s first act as queen be removing her kingdom from the Council Alliance? Who was the mysterious commoner seen at her Winnowing Gala? Is she truly planning on betraying her country?

“Maybe you can talk to Keefe, then,” Jolie says, after a moment. “I’m sure he’d like some company.”

“Who?” Fitz asks, and then notices the boy sitting on a bench near them, drawing quietly in a sketchbook. 

The boy—Keefe, apparently—looks up upon hearing his name. “I’m fine, actually,” he says, then returns to his drawing without giving Fitz so much as a glance. 

Fitz scoffs. “Yeah, me too,” he says, moving to sit on the furthest possible bench that’s still in Jolie’s sight. Which, unfortunately, isn’t far. He should really ask his father to build more benches in these gardens. 

For at least ten minutes, they sit in tense silence—Keefe, with his nose buried in his sketchbook, and Fitz, sulking and glaring at the dirt beneath him. Jolie and Grizel are having a conversation about the hardships of babysitting, or something. Fitz tunes them out. 

Then, he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to find Jolie looking at him with raised eyebrows. “What did the ground ever do to you?” she asks, gesturing to where he’s kicked up enough dirt to create a small hole in Everglen’s perfectly pristine path. Oops. 

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Fitz replies. It’s a lie. 

She sighs. “Why don’t you two just talk to each other? I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you earlier. Besides, you two must be about the same age.”

Fitz huffs, but he knows she’s not wrong. He can’t sulk like this forever, after all. And the artist in front of him does look to be closer to his age—which is refreshing, since Fitz is used to spending all his time with either his six-year-old sister or his nineteen-year-old brother. Life in the palace isn’t exactly conducive to healthy social development, anyway. 

So he sighs, gets up, and sits down next to Keefe. “Hi,” he says, in a perfectly normal and very chill way. 

“Hi,” Keefe replies, still focused on his drawing. 

“Uh,” Fitz starts, but he doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s then that Keefe finally looks up and meets his gaze, and it’s then that Fitz suddenly realizes who the boy in front of him is: Keefe Sencen, Prince of Candleshade. Of course, how could he not have realized? He’s seen the king and queen of Candleshade dozens of times, as Everglen’s closest ally. Fitz had been vaguely aware that they had a son, though he’d never stopped to think about him much. 

“Want a cookie?” Keefe says, after a long moment of awkward silence. 

Fitz stares at him. “What?”

“Here.” Keefe shoves a cookie in his face, and Fitz accepts—at first, for politeness, but then he takes a bite and he’s not sure he’s ever tasted a cookie this good. “I made them yesterday.”

“You…made these?” Fitz replies, frowning slightly. He’s never even been in the Everglen kitchens. And he doubts he could make a cookie that’s even edible, much less tasty.

Keefe shrugs. “Yeah. I like baking. It takes my mind off things.”

“Wow,” Fitz says with wide eyes. “I wish I had time to learn that. I feel like I spend all my time in lessons or training or something.”

Keefe snorts. “Oh, I’m supposed to be doing that. I just skip.”

Fitz’s jaw drops. “You…skip? Your lessons?”

“Yeah,” Keefe replies casually—clearly, he has no idea how much he’s just completely overhauled Fitz’s mind. “If I don’t want to be there, I just don’t go. Besides, I already know pretty much everything they try to teach me.” He pauses and wrinkles nose. “Except for the sword fighting stuff. That stuff sucks.”

“Woah,” Fitz breathes. “That’s pretty cool.”

The longer they talk, the more Fitz starts to forget about the meeting he’d so desperately wanted to attend. Something about this boy—a boy like no other he’s met before—is entrancing, the only puzzle Fitz has ever encountered that he hasn’t been able to decipher immediately. 

He resolves, that night, that one day he will figure out the mystery of Prince Keefe Sencen. 

No matter how long it takes. 

-

Dear Keefe,

I think something serious is happening. You know how your father arrived in Everglen over the weekend? I’ll admit, I was kind of disappointed that you weren’t with him, but I think I understand why now. He, King Grady, and my father have been locked in the King’s office for nearly three days now—and every time I see them, they have these terrible, grim expressions on their faces. I’ve been asking everyone for information, but nobody will tell me anything! Not even Alvar. He keeps telling me that everything is fine. What a liar. 

I know that it’s something to do with the rebels, though. I can see it in their eyes. 

Anyway. I just want to make sure you’re okay, since I heard that there were a lot of rebel attacks in Candleshade recently, and you haven’t responded to my last letter yet…no pressure to respond quickly, of course. I just like knowing that you’re not dead. 

I miss you I hope you’re okay, Keefe…

-

“You have a lot of nerve asking me to come here,” Fitz says. He doesn’t turn around; he won’t give Keefe the satisfaction of looking into his eyes, no matter how much he desperately wants to. 

Keefe’s breath is warm on his neck—it’s December, and Fitz is so, so cold without someone to hold—and he sighs. “And yet, you still came.”

“I need to know why,” Fitz says. He keeps his gaze trained on the horizon, even as Keefe moves to stand in front of him, begging for his attention. What attention does he deserve? The attention of a prison guard, perhaps. Not a prince. 

Keefe shakes his head in Fitz’s peripheral vision. “I didn’t know,” he says, and Fitz can only scoff. 

“Didn’t know what?” he says incredulously. “That I would find out? Your kingdom’s flag was on the arrow that killed him! They found footprints on the path behind the roses—the path that only you and I know about. I’m not stupid, Keefe. I know what that means.” Fitz is well aware that he’s shouting, now, but they’re deep enough into the woods that he doesn’t quite care anymore. He directs his fury at the air beside Keefe’s perfectly-maintained curls—of course he has the nerve to look pretty even among all this pain. Fitz wouldn’t expect any less. 

But Keefe only stares at him, with something akin to grief in his eyes. “Fitz, please,” he begs, stepping forward. “Look at me.” And if they were just a few years younger, Fitz wouldn’t have hesitated to do so; after all, most of their childhood had been spent following each other blindly. Now, though, they are both hardened by the war at their borders; now, Fitz shouldn’t trust Keefe as he once did, even if his faith in him has become muscle memory. 

 “Just tell me it wasn’t you,” is all Fitz can manage to say without succumbing.  

There’s a long pause before Keefe finally replies. “I swear to the moon and the stars, Fitz. I would never, ever kill the only person who ever loved me like a son.” 

And how could Fitz’s will ever hold against that?

So he gives in, and finally meets the gaze of the only man who could ever ruin him; it’s stormy, terrifying, and all too familiar. Under the moonlight, it reminds Fitz of their younger days—before war caught up to them, when they would spend most of their nights together running off to where they weren’t meant to be and ignoring the shouts from their bodyguards in favour of each other. He’s forced to remember that the boy in front of him is the same boy who taught him how to prank his tutors, years and years ago; the same boy who taught him that love is as easily taken away as it is given. 

“What happened to you?” Fitz asks, and even he’s not quite sure what he means by it. 

Keefe chuckles dryly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

It’s then that Fitz notices the bruises on his cheeks, nearly covered by the blood and mud smudged across his skin. “You’re hurt,” he realizes. He reaches out to examine further, but stops midway—he can’t hold Keefe like this anymore. They aren’t who they once were. 

“Oh, that,” Keefe says, rubbing his face. “I lost a fight with some rebels.”

Fitz gapes at him. “What?”

Keefe looks away and moves his hair across his face, presumably trying to hide the extent of his injuries. “They attacked the palace three days ago. It shouldn’t have been as bad as it was—we have more than enough forces to counter them—but they were one step ahead of us. As they always are.”

A million situations run through Fitz’s mind, but he’s studied the rebel tactics long enough to understand what Keefe is saying. “They had people on the inside.”

Keefe nods. “They knew every weakness in our defense, and every single passage in or out of the palace. Even the ones I thought only I knew about. I was only able to run because Ro fought them off behind me.” 

That means… “So the rebels killed my father, then.”

Keefe pauses. “I don’t know. I’ve been on the road for three days—I didn’t even know he was dead until I got into town. But I can’t imagine that my father would choose to make an enemy out of our only allies.”

Fitz sucks in a breath. “Which can only mean that Candleshade has fallen.” It seems almost impossible, but if what Keefe is telling him is true…then the rebels have grown much more powerful than he ever thought. 

“This is the start of the real war,” Keefe says quietly. “They’ll stop at nothing to take down the Alliance. And with your father dead…Everglen is definitely going to be next. It’s an easy opening for them.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to prepare for a fight,” Fitz says. “After that, hopefully, we can help you reclaim Candleshade.” And with it, perhaps, they can reclaim some of themselves too. 

At this—strangely—Keefe’s face falls, and he winces. “About that…” he begins, and suddenly, he won’t meet Fitz’s eyes. “I’m leaving.”

Fitz stares at him. “What?”

“I can’t stay here,” Keefe says. “You said it yourself—people think I’m a killer. And even once I tell them I’m not, if they believe me…what can I do? The rebels need me dead to end the line; they’ll be searching for me everywhere. I’ll only bring death to your door even quicker.” He chuckles, though it’s as dry as the winter air surrounding them.

The idea is so absurd, Fitz can’t even believe it’s coming out of his mouth. “So, what, your best solution is to run away?” Fitz snaps. “You have a duty, Keefe! A duty to your kingdom, a duty to your legacy, a duty to—” He stops himself before he can say something ridiculous like a duty to me. 

Keefe scoffs. “I have no obligation to a kingdom that despises every bone in my body.”

“You’re a prince.”

“I’m well aware,” Keefe snaps. “Not all of us are as obsessed with our legacies as you, Fitzroy.” The name is like a punch to the stomach; it’s a dirty trick, hitting where he knows it’ll hurt Fitz the most. 

The reply tumbles out of his mouth before he can fully process what he’s saying. “Then maybe you should just leave!” Fitz says. “Clearly I can’t stop you.”

For a moment, the devastation is evident on Keefe’s face, But it’s gone in just a second, replaced by a fiery determination unlike any Fitz has seen before. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

 Is this what you want, Fitzroy?

“I’m not the one who called you here. I don’t care what you do,” he lies. “I haven’t cared in a long, long time.” Lies, lies, and more lies. Keefe can see through it, of course—he knows Fitz better than to believe anything he says out loud. 

“Fine,” Keefe says. “Then I guess this is it.” 

He turns, and Fitz can only watch, frozen, as Keefe mounts his horse. Say something, his mind begs him, Tell him you don’t mean it! But wouldn’t that be too easy?

He waits silently, until Keefe is entirely out of earshot, before he mutters one final wish to the wind—perhaps Keefe might think he’s forgotten about what today is, but of course, he hasn’t. He can’t. “Happy birthday, Keefe,” he says, hoping that the wind can carry his message home. 

Then, he begins on the path back home, and resolves to forget that this—that Keefe—ever happened. 

He fails, obviously.

-

Keefe,

Do you see her too? In your dreams, in your nightmares…Do you hear her screaming? Because I do, every single day and it doesn’t stop please Keefe you’re the only one who understands

Look, I know there’s snow piling outside my window, I know it should be icy and frigid and terrible without a fire on—but somehow I can’t stop feeling like every inch of me is warming up, exponentially and endlessly until I’m burnt to a crisp. Like a pig on a spit, forever roasting. 

And logically, I know we’re not there anymore; I know I’m safe behind the walls of Everglen—well, as safe as anyone can be, in these times. But somehow, for some reason, I can’t stop feeling like I’m still stuck in Havenfield, doomed to watch her burn forever. 

I guess what I’m asking is…does it haunt you too? Does she haunt you too?

You’re the only one who saw it like I did. Running to the woods for just a moment, and then we come back and the world’s on fire right in front of our faces…were we the last people she saw? The last people whom she trusted, I mean. 

Or maybe I shouldn’t be asking these kinds of questions. It’ll only make it worse—at least, that’s what my mother says. But what does she know of real terror?

I think life was easier when I saw the rebels as this distant, intangible thing. I used to be obsessed with being allowed into Alliance meetings, and I never understood why they wouldn’t let me in when I knew so much about the war—but I understand now. I had the information, but I didn’t truly know them. I didn’t have the fear that’s required to really understand what they’re capable of. I didn’t have these dreams that remind me of how cruel the world can really be to people who don’t deserve it.

I do now, though. 

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe because nobody else listens? My mother tries, but she just can’t understand what I’m feeling. And my brother keeps ignoring me, for some reason. I’m trying not to read too much into it. 

I just wish you were here, Keefe. Being around you is kind of like a cure for everything, you know? Like I’m a walking wound and you cauterize me. Or maybe you burn me. I’m not quite sure yet.

-

The unfortunate consequence of sneaking out of the palace at night is that the much-harder process of sneaking in has to occur eventually. 

The first time Fitz and Keefe find themselves in this predicament, they’re fifteen, and regretting many of the night’s decisions as they stare up at the heavily guarded palace in front of them. Sneaking out hadn’t been incredibly difficult, surprisingly. It’s Grizel’s day off, and her substitutes aren’t quite used to the antics of the young royals yet, so they’d employed Biana to distract the goblins—with a promise to do whatever she wants for the next three days—and had successfully lowered themselves out through a first-story window. Easy. 

What’s less easy, however, is getting back in. They’ve searched for an easy entrance back into Fitz’s room for nearly an hour, now, to no avail—and Fitz is starting to shiver, in the cool autumn air. 

“Do you want my cloak?” Keefe asks, and he doesn’t even wait for a response before slipping it off. 

“Won’t you be cold?” Fitz replies, staring at his friend with wide eyes—Candleshade is considerably warmer than Everglen, so there’s no way Keefe is used to the cold here. Fitz isn’t even used to the harsh winters of his home, and he’s lived here his whole life.

Keefe shrugs. “I’m really not cold, and your nose is turning red, so.” 

Fitz probably turns even more red at the comment. “I’m fine,” he swears, and Keefe raises his eyebrows. “...Maybe I’m a little cold,” he concedes. 

With the admission, Keefe grins and reaches around Fitz’s shoulders to wrap his cloak around him. He’s forced to step closer to pin it shut, and Fitz finds his face burning once again at their proximity. Please don’t notice, he begs, but of course, the universe hates him. 

“Are you okay?” Keefe asks, frowning. “You look a little weird.” He hasn’t moved, yet—he’s still just inches away from Fitz, so close that he can make out all the little scars on Keefe’s face. 

“I’m fine,” Fitz replies, and he knows he’s staring. But how can he not, when Keefe is so close? 

What he doesn’t expect is for Keefe to meet his gaze with equal intensity, a small smirk growing on his lips. “Are you?” he asks, with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

And for a moment, Fitz is stunned speechless. 

Then Keefe leans forward, kisses him lightly on the cheek, and steps back as if it’s just a casual motion—as if he hasn’t just stopped and started Fitz’s heart all in the span of two seconds. “Hey, what’s that?” he calls, already running toward a random patch of roses before Fitz can say a word.  

Not that Fitz knows what he would say, if Keefe had waited. He can’t confess to feelings that he doesn’t understand. 

So he runs after Keefe, as he always does, bracing himself for the pain of the thorns. Hopefully the healers don’t ask too many questions about his cuts and bruises from the night—though it’ll be obvious to them once they notice that he matches Keefe. (It’s nice, knowing that they’ve been marked together. Even when the wounds fade, his memories certainly won’t.)

“What are you doing?” Fitz whispers once he finds Keefe crawling beneath a particularly thick rosebush. 

“There’s something beyond this,” Keefe says, pushing forward. “Something hidden in the roses. I think it’s a clearing of some sort.”

Fitz scoffs. “Why would there be a hidden clearing in the middle of our gardens? What could we possibly have to hide—”

“I found it!” Keefe suddenly exclaims. “Come on, come through!”

Well. That’s certainly strange. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters to himself as he makes his way through the dirt, wincing each time a thorn catches on his clothes. Thankfully, he has Keefe’s cloak to protect his arms—though he can’t imagine how scratched up Keefe must be, with only a sleeveless tunic to protect him. 

 After a minute of fighting a maze of flowers, Fitz emerges in a dark clearing, with flowers above blocking the moonlight. The ground beneath him is dusty, and he realizes with a start that this isn’t just a clearing—it’s a path. “What the hell?” he mutters, and Keefe snorts. 

“It’s a bit concerning that the Prince of Everglen isn’t aware of a secret passage into his palace,” Keefe says, and Fitz can tell he’s grinning even without seeing him. 

“This goes all the way into the palace?” Fitz asks, glancing around at the little he can see. 

“Yeah,” Keefe replies. “I followed it to the end. Turns out, Everglen isn’t quite as secure as it claims to be.”

And Fitz really shouldn’t be celebrating a secret breach in the castle’s defense. But clearly, no potential intruder is aware of it, since no-one seems to have discovered it…so there’s really no harm in using it himself, right? “You know what this means, Keefe?” he asks. 

“What?”

A Keefe-like grin makes its way onto Fitz’s lips. “This means we can get in and out of the castle any time we want.” It’s both a terrifying and exhilarating thought—for the first time in his life, he’s free. At least, in some sense of the word. 

Keefe laughs. “I guess you’re right,” he says, smiling softly. “Oh, and, by the way, I have a gift for you.”

At this, Fitz raises his eyebrows. “A gift?” he repeats. “Why? It’s not my birthday.”

Keefe shrugs. “I just thought you would like it.”

“Oh.” Oh. It’s a strange feeling, to be known like this, and Fitz loves every second of it. He watches Keefe bring something out of his pocket and hand it to him, gentle and delicate, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is—then he’s blushing wildly again. “Is this a rose?”

Keefe smiles. “Yeah. It’s classic, you know?”

Fitz does know. In fact, he knows quite well, since he’s read practically every novel in the library…but Keefe can’t possibly mean it like that.

In response to his shocked silence, Keefe steps forward and tucks a strand of Fitz’s hair behind his ear. His hand then falls to Fitz’s chin—still as gentle a touch as ever—and Fitz can barely breathe. Maybe he’s reading far too much into this, but… “Isn’t a kiss classic, too?”

Keefe grins. “I suppose it is.” And Fitz doesn’t know how long he’s been waiting to hear it, or how long he’s been waiting to step forward and hold Keefe’s face like this—like a lover, like a dearest friend. But he holds him, now, and it feels like releasing a breath of air he never knew he’d been holding. 

Keefe’s lips are as soft as morning sunlight. 

And Fitz’s world has never been so peaceful.

-

Dear Keefe,

I wish we could live forever. Just you and I, immortals for eternity—wouldn’t it be fun? We could look at the stars together, every night until the end of the world. We could speak as we wish and love as we’d like and nobody would have the guts to bother us…we’d be gods, really, in our own little world. 

But since we aren’t immortals, I think I’d like to know you for every remaining night of my mortal life. And who knows how long that will be?

Truthfully, Keefe, I’m terrified. I’m terrified that this war will take over our lives and we’ll forget who we truly are amidst the chaos. I’m terrified that I’ll become someone who you don’t know how to want anymore—I fear, sometimes, that I already am. 

I just wish you and I could stay the same forever. I know it’s ridiculous—impossible, even—but wouldn’t it be nice to have something constant in our lives?

Just promise you’ll never let go of me, Keefe. Not until our dying breaths. 

-

“I heard about Keefe,” Biana says from the doorway, and Fitz startles. He’d been so engrossed in watching his ceiling that he hadn’t even noticed her come in—a luxury he doesn’t have, now that rebels could be coming for him any day now. 

“What about him?” he asks, forcing himself to seem as nonchalant as possible. 

It’s impossible to hide anything from his sister, after all these years together. “That he’s gone,” she states, three simple words for such a complex thing. “I’m surprised you’re not with him.”

Fitz scoffs. “I wouldn’t abandon our family like that. Especially not now.” Not now, when the throne where Alden should sit still lies vacant, with no agreement on who should fill it next. Not now, when there could be killers around every corner. 

Biana’s expression softens, and she moves to sit beside him on his bed. “I know,” she says quietly. “But…don’t you ever wish you could? Just leave, and be free of all this. Be a normal person.”

Every single day, he wants to say. But these are times that call for his strengths, not his weaknesses. “That’s what the rebels want us to do,” he says. “Run away from our lives, and give them our kingdom without a fight. We can’t give up so easily.” 

“But we can’t let our fear of them control our lives, either,” Biana replies. “Let yourself be selfish for once, Fitz. What do you actually want to do? Who do you actually want to be?”

Fitz laughs dryly. “When did you become so wise?” he asks, hoping to avoid a real answer. But she keeps her gaze sharp and steady on him, and he realizes that there is nowhere for him to run from this. “I don’t know,” he finally answers—the most honest he’s been with himself in a very long time. 

Biana smiles. “Yeah. Me neither,” she says, and it’s strangely comforting.

But as peaceful as not knowing sounds, Fitz knows that he can’t afford to indulge it for very long. Perhaps, as a child, he’d been able to run and play to his heart’s content, but those days are gone now. Those people are gone. 

“I can’t afford to be selfish, though,” he tells her. “Maybe in a few years, once this is all over, I can be who I want. But not today.”

For a long moment, Biana just looks at him, with something like sadness in her eyes. “Well,” she finally says, her voice wavering slightly, “I suppose you’ll make a great king, then.”

What?

Fitz sits up so quickly that there are spots in his eyes. “What are you talking about?” he asks, because there’s no way she’s saying what he thinks she is. Because that would mean…

“Alvar officially abdicated this morning,” she tells him, softly. “The throne is yours now.”

Fitz…doesn’t even know what to think. For as long as he can remember, he’s had a set path for his future—Alvar would be king, and Fitz would work by his side, a prince with the freedom to travel the continent, learning everything he possibly can. “Why would he abdicate?”

Biana sighs. “You know he and Dad were never on the best terms.” It’s true, though Fitz hadn’t understood why until he was nearly an adult. Alvar has always had drastically different ideas on how to run the kingdom, and there were certain things that Alden simply wasn’t willing to change. 

The older he gets, the more Fitz realizes that neither of his idols are quite what they seemed to be.  

“You know, you don’t have to do it,” Biana says. “You don’t have to bear the burden of the crown just because it fell to you. We have more than enough cousins to give it to.”

And the idea is tempting, for a moment. Handing off the crown and living life as a normal citizen, away from the pain that this palace has brought him…but he has a duty, both to his father and to his kingdom. Fitz was raised a prince, unlike his cousins—this has to be his burden to bear. It has been his burden since he was born. 

“No,” he tells Biana. “I won’t run away. Not anymore.”

If this is what his destiny is, then so be it. 

Fitz will be a king. 

-

Dear Keefe,

My Winnowing Gala is set for November. 

Isn’t it strange, how old we are now? I don’t feel old enough to get married. Or engaged, even. Though I suppose I don’t have much of a choice—with how long Alvar is waiting, my family is itching for a wedding. To bring joy to the citizens, if nothing else. 

Anyway, I’m writing to you to ask if you can come. I need someone sane to be around while everyone is caught up in the chaos of finding me a perfect match. That, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve attended a single gala without you since we were twelve, and there’s no reason to change that now. 

Also, I miss you. 

Please come. 

- 

Fitz spends the first ten minutes of his Winnowing Gala hiding in his bedroom, watching the swarms of carriages arriving through his window. There can’t possibly be this many women here to see him. This must be more people attending than he’s met in his entire life—though given that he’s only ever had two friends who weren’t related to him, perhaps that isn’t much of a bar to set. 

While he panics, Keefe is standing at the vanity, aggressively scrunching hair gel into his curls. “You look fine,” Fitz says, after hearing far too many frustrated grunts—and then he really stops to look at him. “More than fine, actually. You look incredible. So stop fussing around with it!”

“The beauty is in the details,” Keefe replies, carefully adjusting one singular strand of hair. “It has to curl away from my face. Not toward. That’s my secret to looking perfect everyday.” He sends Fitz a wink, and for some reason, Fitz’s face burns. Charming fool. 

But he rolls his eyes anyway. “You would look perfect even if you dyed your hair green and shaved half of it off,” Fitz says, and immediately regrets it as a grin grows on Keefe’s lips. 

“Good idea,” Keefe replies, that familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye—but before he can elaborate on his terrible plan, they’re interrupted by a loud banging on the door, accompanied by a chorus of shouts. 

“Your highness, where the hell are you?” comes Grizel’s voice. 

“You lovesick fools better be hiding in there, or I’ll kill you!” comes Ro’s. 

“Fitzroy Avery Vacker, get your ass out here right now!” And Biana. 

None are particularly promising. 

Fitz immediately runs to hide behind his curtains—he can’t possibly go down there and speak to all those people, what if they hate him? What if he trips and falls in front of everybody? What if he scares off every single possible match?

(That last one doesn’t seem so bad, actually. It’s not like he wants to get married soon. He can’t imagine falling in love with anyone else, right now.)

Keefe grabs his wrist before he can fully tuck himself away. “Fitz,” he says, and his voice is suddenly serious. “You’ll have to go eventually, you know. Might as well get it over with now.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to have a Gala,” Fitz says with a scoff. “Suddenly you’re a fan?”

Keefe sighs, but his hold on Fitz’s arm never wavers. It’s a comforting constant, right now. “I didn’t want you to go through with it only because your family asked you to. I thought you, of all people, should get at least somewhat of a choice in who you love...but it’s too late to change that now, isn’t it? The Gala is happening. So we might as well show up, if all of this is in your honour.”

“I suppose,” Fitz agrees, electing to ignore the parts he doesn’t understand. He has his suspicions, of course, as to what Keefe is implying—they’re suspicions he’s carried himself, after all—but this is hardly the time to be thinking about that. Now that he is about to walk into the traditions of a prince, he cannot be bound to his past distractions. 

Though his worst distraction still sits here, holding his wrist gently as if it were porcelain. And Fitz cannot bring himself to send him away. (He brought him here, after all, despite his parents’ protests—rarely are friends allowed to attend Winnowing Galas, but Fitz had insisted. He couldn’t bear to think about love for a whole night without the boy who personified it by his side.)

Another series of loud bangs on the door prompts Keefe to stand up, bringing Fitz with him. He sends Fitz a look—the kind only the two of them can decipher—and Fitz nods. He is as ready as he can ever be—which still isn’t quite ready at all.  

“Finally,” Biana says when they open the door. “I’ve been fielding questions about you left and right. Your potential matches are awfully inquisitive.” 

Keefe snorts. “Good luck with that.”

As it turns out, when they reach the gala, the attendees are indeed strangely curious about him—his favourite colours, his morning routine, his favourite things to cook, and more ridiculously irrelevant things. More than once, their conversations fall into awkward silence, because Fitz finds that he has nothing substantial to say to them. He isn’t actually interested in finding a wife here, anyway. 

Though many of them aren’t even here for him—they’re only here to see the legendary palace of Everglen, and he’s simply their ticket inside. Which he doesn’t quite mind, except for when they’re swarming him and asking him a million questions about the size and the material and the location of the palace…things that he doesn’t know, and things that he cares even less to talk about. 

And now there’s about twenty people trying to talk to him at once, and probably at least one hundred people surrounding him, crushing him, suffocating him, and suddenly Fitz just can’t breathe. 

“Get me out of here,” Fitz whispers to Keefe, interrupting his conversation with some blonde Noble from Havenfield who looks eerily like Jolie. 

Keefe mutters an apology to the girl—Sophie, apparently—and immediately slips out of the room beside him, a worried expression on his face. “Are you alright?” he asks, and Fitz shakes his head. 

“There’s people everywhere,” he says. “Nobody is giving me space to even think.” 

Keefe sighs. “Yeah, well, seeing how many people are on that list, I’m not surprised you’re overwhelmed.” He gestures to the wall behind them, where a long scroll is pinned to the wall, covered with a long list of names and check marks. 

“Oh,” Fitz realizes. “That’s my match list.” He never even knew that they had taken it from his bedroom—but, then again, he had stayed as far away as possible from the gala planning. 

Keefe walks forward to examine it, and Fitz’s breath catches. These two worlds—his duty and his choice, his head and his heart—were never meant to exist so close to one another. And yet, here Keefe is. 

“Your number one match is Sophie,” Keefe reads out, his expression indecipherable. “She seems nice enough. Maybe you should consider her.” 

The words are so incredibly foreign to hear—Keefe, telling him to marry someone else. Some stranger. As if Fitz was ever truly going to walk out of this ball engaged. He doubts he’s even capable of giving his heart to anyone else, now. He’s invested too much of it in one place. In one man. 

“You know,” Fitz says, after a long moment, “I wanted it to be you.” It’s as close to a confession as he’s ever gotten, and Fitz regrets the words immediately after they’re spoken. Now, Keefe is staring at him like he’s said something outlandish, when it’s certainly nothing he didn’t already know.

After a minute, Keefe rips his gaze away from Fitz, and stares at the wall with the intensity of a thousand stars. 

“Keefe?” Fitz says. If only he could read his thoughts. 

Keefe shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly it’s almost lost in the din of the Gala. 

“What?”  

Keefe sighs. “You deserve someone better than your kingdom and better than me. I’m not what you really want, Fitz. You just don’t know any better.” 

And before Fitz can respond, before he can protest that he’s not a child, he knows exactly what he wants—Keefe is gone. Out the main doors, into the rain. 

And the silence that lingers has never felt more suffocating. 

-

Dear Keefe,

Happy birthday, you idiot.  

I miss you. 

Please respond. 

What the hell am I writing?

I can’t tell what you want from me. You tell me to want freely, and then tell me I shouldn’t want you. You want me to live selfishly, and then claim I can’t live beside you. Do you despise me? Do you fear me? 

Or is it that you’re too afraid of it all, yourself?

I know that I can be both your prince and Everglen’s. I resigned myself to living two lives, long ago—but you? You’ve always wanted more. More than your duty, more than our secrets—but when will it all be enough?

Part of me doesn’t even want to send this letter, because I know you won’t respond to it. 

Happy birthday, Keefe. I hope you think of me. 

-

His coronation is far too grand for the times, but Fitz lets it slide. The kingdom needs some joy, after all. (And a distraction from the fact that their new king, who is supposed to lead them through war, is barely twenty years old.)

There’s still over an hour before it’s set to start, but the hall is already filled with decorations and massive displays of opulence. The guest list is small, by Fitz’s own request—he can’t risk inviting anyone he doesn’t know well into the heart of the palace. It would be far too easy for someone to send an arrow through his throat while he’s distracted, even with Grizel’s extra security measures. 

Right now, though, he’s more concerned with trying to find his siblings. In the chaos, he somehow managed to lose Biana, and Alvar is, of course, nowhere to be seen. Though that isn’t entirely unexpected; ever since Fitz had agreed to take the throne, his brother hasn’t spoken even a word to him. Alvar walks out of every room Fitz enters, eats only in his own bedroom, and refuses to even look at him. Fitz can’t deny that it hurts—in the span of just a month, he’s lost three of the most important people in his life, and only one is actually dead. 

But he pretends to be unfazed, for the sake of Everglen. He can’t let his personal issues get in the way of leading his kingdom. 

Through the crowd, Fitz suddenly notices Alvar, pushing through and running with some strange sense of urgency. Where could he possibly need to go right now? There’s nothing in that wing of the palace except for…

Except for Fitz’s room. 

Fitz drops his staff and rushes after him. 

But when he finally reaches his bedroom, he finds it to be empty. “Odd,” he mutters aloud. He looks around, but everything seems to be as he left it in the morning, with nobody else in sight. Fitz could’ve sworn he saw Alvar run up these stairs. Where else could he have gone? 

He gets his answer in the form of cool metal to the back of his neck and a sudden, strong grip on his shoulder. 

“Don’t move,” Alvar snarls, pressing his dagger into Fitz’s skin. 

“Have you lost your mind?” Fitz snaps. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t let you become King,” Alvar says. “I can’t let you continue this madness.”

Fitz scoffs. “What madness?”

“The madness of the Alliance, Fitz!” he spits. “Not one of these kingdoms truly cares about their people. Don’t you see? The endless exiling of so-called rebels, the matchmaking system—it’s all built for maximum control.”

“So your solution is to kill me?” Fitz replies, and he so desperately wants to run, but he needs to understand whatever curse has befallen his brother. This cannot be the man he idolized as a child. 

“I had high hopes for you,” Alvar says. “You used to be more than a prince, you used to have passion! I really thought you would be the one to change things, when we were younger. Now I see you’re no better than your father.”

“Our father was a good man!” Fitz protests, but even he can’t entirely believe it. 

Alvar scoffs. “Alden was a good king, but he could never be more than that. That’s why he had to go.”

It’s a strange way to word the statement, and to Fitz, it almost seems like… “You’re talking as if you killed him.” The idea is absurd, but the more he thinks about it, Fitz can’t deny its plausibility. In the months leading to the King’s death, Alden and Alvar had had such dramatic disagreements that practically the whole palace knew about them. Fitz had been too worried about Keefe to really pay attention, then, but…it certainly makes sense. 

“Because he did,” a voice suddenly says from the shadows behind them. 

Fitz’s blood runs cold. 

Alvar’s dagger falls from his neck and he pushes Fitz to the floor, whirling to face the intruder. A cloaked figure emerges from the corner, a pair of curved blades in their hands—blades that Fitz is all too familiar with. 

“Keefe Sencen,” Alvar sneers, stepping backward. “The disgraced prince returns.”

But when Keefe’s hood falls, Fitz is practically faced with a stranger—his face is decorated with scars from all manner of weapons, and his once-beloved hair is now a tangled mess that reaches past shoulders. No longer is he the man Fitz had known. This is someone new. 

“I’m not a prince anymore,” Keefe says, bringing his hand to his chest where a small pendant sits—too small for Fitz to really make out what it is. But Alvar seems to recognize it, as his eyes widen.

“So the Black Swan have finally decided to emerge from the shadows,” Alvar says, reaching for the sword at his waist. “How cute.”

“Step away from the king,” is Keefe’s only response.

Alvar glances between the blades, both pointed at him, and Keefe’s dark scowl. “And what if I don’t?” he asks. “What will you do when the strongest kingdom in the Alliance falls to us?” He steps forward, drawing his own sword and matching Keefe’s stance. 

Quietly, Fitz draws himself up to a sitting position. Neither Keefe nor Alvar are paying attention to him anymore—they’re too focused on each other, waiting for the first strike. And while Fitz knows that he and Keefe have been strangers for far too long, he doubts that Keefe’s skills in swordsmanship have improved enough over the past year to beat Alvar. He’d been a sword fighting prodigy in his youth, after all. 

So while they circle each other, Fitz draws his own dagger from his pocket—a gift from his father, once upon a time. He wonders how Alden would feel, if he saw his sons now. Probably disgusted. 

And then it all happens at once—Alvar lunges toward Keefe, and Keefe parries wildly though it’s clear he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Fitz scrambles to stand up, watching with increasing alarm as Alvar pushes closer and closer toward Keefe. There’s a clear winner, already, and Fitz knows this fight will not end until Keefe is too injured to fight any longer. 

He watches Alvar kick Keefe to the floor, some unbridled fury in his eyes. And as he holds his blade above Keefe’s chest, Fitz realizes he has only one option. 

He lunges and tackles Alvar to the floor, sinking his dagger into the skin above his collarbone. 

It’s deathly quiet, for a moment. 

Then Alvar starts gagging, and Fitz suddenly realizes that his hand is covered in blood. The blood of his brother. 

“Fitz,” Keefe says, his voice wavering. “What did you do?”

Alvar squirms beneath him, and the horror of what Fitz has done washes over him like a wave of fire. “I had to,” he says, as if he can make himself believe it. “He was going to kill you.”

Keefe is silent, for a moment. Then, he says, “I didn’t think you would care if I died anymore.”

“No,” Fitz replies, laughing bitterly. “I didn’t think I would either.” Somehow, in the month since he’d left, Fitz had managed to convince himself that he didn’t care about Keefe at all. He’d convinced himself that he had finally grown out of his old distractions; that with the crown, he could be reborn with a fresh heart to give.  

But the blood on his hands is proof that he can never truly break free of his childhood devotion. And the body beneath him is proof that he has let this love corrupt him beyond his ideals. 

“I hate that I love you,” he confesses, and it’s as much a confession to himself as it is to Keefe. 

Keefe rests a hand on his shoulder, as gentle as when they were kids. “I know,” he says. “I know you.”

I know you. 

And Fitz hates that he’s right. 

[animejeice]

I wanna write this one off story, if enough people like it, I’ll consider making a more fleshed out version

CW: near death experience

Damian and Serena arrive home very late one night. Both were exhausted from working but were happy to finally be home and relax.

“Oh god I thought work would never end. Thank god it did” - Damian

“You said it, not me” - Serena

A few seconds later they hear a light whimper coming from the pantry and think it’s a rat. Serena, not wanting to deal with a rodent, grabs a shoe and is ready to kill it.

“I swear to god, I am not in the mood for this shi-“ - Serena

As Serena enters the pantry, she stops and sees a small little girl, no older than 7 years old, and no bigger than her pinkie. Her body is caught in a wire that’s tangled several parts of her. Her left arm is stretching, her chest is wrapper, and her neck is being constricted. She’s crying as she notices Serena looking at her. The borrower knows she’s dead no matter what, either she’ll suffocate or the giant staring her down will crush her. Despite this she reaches her right arm out, and with what little air she has says

“h-help” - borrower girl

“DAMIAN GRAB THE SCISSORS NOW, HURRY!” - Serena

Without a second thought Serena screams for Damian to grab the scissors as she drops the shoe and grabs the borrower, she lifts her up a bit which causes most of the wire to loosen but it’s still suffocating her, Serena tries with her might to undo the wire as best as she can to no avail, 10 second later, damian comes rushing in with the scissors in hand.

“I’m here what’s happening” - Damian

“The wire is wrapped around her neck, she can’t breathe, cut it, hurry” - Serena

The girl sees damian come in with scissors and doesn’t know what’s going on, as this is happening she begins to slip, it becomes harder and harder for her to fight. Damian is rushing to cut the wire, and a couple of seconds later, the wire completely slacks and comes off her neck. Without a second of hesitation, she takes in the biggest breathe of air she ever took. She starts to cough after finally being able to breathe again.

“Darling are you alright, it’s okay, just breathe, you’re safe now” - Serena

Breathing was all she was doing, she completely forgot about the fact 2 enormous figures were staring over her.

“Here, hold still sweetheart, I promise to be gentle” - Damian

Damian starts cutting the rest of the wire on her body, freeing her arm and chest from their tight grasp. After she was freed she was going to thank them, before remembering the stories she was told about how dangerous humans are. Her happiness turns to fear as she begins to beg.

“I-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to steal from you, i… i was just taking some food to survive, i’m sorry, i-i promise ill leave and never come back if you let me go, j-just please don’t kill me” - girl

Damian and Serena looks at each other with concern. They just saved this girl’s life, so why was she begging? Then they remembered that some of the food they argued about each other eating was actually the girl. She took the last cookie, she opened the new box of cereal, it was all her. They both looked at each other again and knew what to say.

“Sweetheart, can you look at us? It’s okay, we’re not mad at you in the slightest” - Serena

“You needed the food to survive, we would never be mad at someone like you just trying to survive” - Damian

“B-but all those fights, they were because of me, so you hate me right” - girl

“No no no, we were mad because we had rules set for each other, and we thought they were being broken by us” - Serena

“You had no idea about anything, you were just doing the most you could to survive, we’re not mad, we forgive you, and if you ever need any food, please, just take it, it’s for the better” - Damain

The girl was so suprised, she didn’t even know why they were being nice, but they were. She always to hear from other borrowers how cruel humans were, but these 2 were kind and gentle.

“T-thank you, m-may i go back home now?” - girl

“Of course, where do you live?” - serena

“I can show you, if you put me down” - girl

Serena does as she asks and put the girl onto the floor. She looks back up and them and is in awe over the size difference, to her, they were skyscrapers. She proceeded to walk out of the pantry and head to the living room. She gets on all fours and is about to crawl under the couch, before she can, Damian gently places his hand over her to stop her.

“Can you wait over there for one second” - damian

Damian points to the little table next to the couch to which she agrees. She walks over to it and sits down. She them gets to watch in awe and Damian and Serena move the couch from the wall. To see such grand power from them mesmerized her for a second. They then notice a hole in the wall behind where the couch used to be.

“Hey, what’s this?” - Damian

The girl sees him approaching and she starts to walk over to it as well.

“This- this is my home, it’s where i live” - girl

“How long have you lived there?” - serena

“I don’t know, i’ve been here since i was a baby” - girl

“Where are your parents?” - Damian

“… gone, I don’t know where or why but all i can remember is… one day they left me… alone, forever” - girl

Damian and Serena became sad after hearing her story. They wanted to help the girl as much as they could.

“Well, I should get going, bye” - girl

Before she could enter the hole, Damian covers it with his hand, blocking the entrance completely and scaring the girl for a second. She was wondering what she did wrong, did she make a mistake telling them where she lived? Was it all a ploy to make her drop her guard and leaver her vulnerable? She was thinking of the worst until he spoke

“I-instead of going back, would you rather stay outside the wall from now on?” - Damian

“W-what do you mean?” - girl

“I think he means, would you like to live with us, you don’t ever have to go back into the wall and hide, you can stay out here, you’ll have toys, and games, and stuffed animals. We’ll eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together and… and you won’t have to ever be alone again.” - Serena

The girl heard that last sentence and was mesmerized once again. Never being alone anymore? It would be amazing for her, she’d never have to worry about anything. But she was also concerned about them and what they would do to her.

“M-maybe? I need some time to think about it… m-may i think about it?” - girl

“Of course, take as much time as you need, we’ll be right here for you” - Damian

Damian lifts his hand to re-open the entrance to her home, before she enters, she is asked one last thing by Serena

“Sweetie, before you go, what’s your name?” - Serena

“Oh, i… I don’t have one, my mom and dad didn’t want me so.. they never bothered” - girl

“Oh dear, i’m so sorry to hear” - Serena

“It… it’s okay, i’ll be fine, i-i’m going to bed now, goodnight” - girl

“Goodnight” - Damian and Serena

Over the course of the week, the girl came out to see Damian and Serena. She would often do things with them. Serena did her hair, bathed, and played with her. Damian cooked with her, and would often answer questions she had.

*One late night in bed*

“I wonder how she’s doing” - Damian

“Me too, i want to get close but i know she’s scared” - Serena

“Yeah, we’re titans compared to her, that’d be frightening to anyone” - Damian

“Not only that, i think she’s scared because she’s been abandoned, and doesn’t want to be left alone again” - Serena

“You’re right, i just wish she would give us one chance” - Damian

They both sighed as they attempted to fall asleep. Not to long after trying to go to bed, they are both awoken by their bedroom door opening.

“Ummm…” - girl

They both shoot up and look at the floor and see the girl standing in the doorway, holding a makeshift stuffed animal and an old piece of a towel used as a blanket

“Oh sweetie, it’s you, what’s wrong” - Serena

“I… i heard scary noises outside and… I couldn’t sleep, I, i was wondering if- if…” - girl

“Of course you can sleep with us, here, i’ll come and pick you up and bring you to the bed” - Damian

“N-no, i’m good- I… I mean i wanted to ask if i can sleep with you, b-but i can get onto the bed myself” - girl

The girl runs up to the edge of the bed and grabs the big blanket and climbs it, Serena and Damian get off the bed to make sure she climbs the blanket safely, cheering her on in the process, once she reaches the top, they congratulate her go back to lying on the bed. The girl runs over to meet them, with the blanket and stuffed animal still with her.

“You were so strong climbing the blanky sweetheart, i’m so proud of you” - Serena

“Me too, you’re such a strong girl” - Damian

“T-thank you” - girl

She lays down on the bed with them, but she can’t fall asleep so she asks them a few questions

“Umm, do you remember… how you said I can live outside of the wall” - girl

“Yeah, what’s up” - Damian

“I… i think i want to live outside them” - girl

“Really that’s amazing sweetheart, i’m so happy to hear” - Damian

“T-thank you… umm i have another question” - girl

“What is if sweetie?” - Serena

“Can… may i call you… my mommy and daddy?” - girl

Both Serena and Damian’s faces light up with joy hearing this and before the girl can attempt to take back what she said.

“Yes yes yes yes yes of couse you can baby, you never had to ask us” - Serena

“We’d be more then happy to be your mommy and daddy” - Damian

Serena brings the girl in for a hug and damian hugs them both. Serena lets go of Serena and hugs Damian back, pinning the girl between the 2 of them, as she’s stuck between them, their body heat surrounds her and she enjoys every second. She takes in the moment of being warmed by them both. They then let go and she falls back to the bed with a smile from ear to ear.

“Sorry baby we didn’t mean to squish you. Are you okay?” - Serena

“Yeah i’m fine, being squished felt so good and warm” - girl

“That’s nice, but if we’re going to be your mommy and daddy, you’ll need to have a name.” - Damian

Damian and Serena start talking about names they could name the girl, then she step in with her idea.

“I really like that one dog’s name” - girl

“Dog, what dog?” - Damian

“The one from that one game, she’s your assistant and talk like me mo me me mo mao” - girl

“Oh, you mean Isabelle?” - Serena

“Yeah, I like that name” - girl

“Well if that’s the case” - Damian

“We love you very much Isabelle” - Serena

“Thank you, I love you too” - Isabelle

Damian proceeds to grab Isabelle and places her on his chest, Serene then comes close to hold Damian and lay her head on his chest. Serena pulls the blanket up so it covers all but her head.

“Is that warm enough for you baby?” - Serena

“*yawn* yes, thank you, I love you mommy and daddy” - isabelle

“We love you too Isabelle, goodnight” - Damian

“Night night” - isabelle

*The end*

[adthedarkcowboy]

Fallen Muriel AU(renewed version):Part one

Authors Notes: After getting better at writing by writing a book I’m working on, I’ve decided to renew this AU. I’ll be trying to get an account on Ao3, but for now, it’ll be on Tumblr for all of you to see first.

(Old) Fallen Muriel AU here!

Crowley sat in his car, with his plants in the back. He tried to keep himself sober enough so he could miracle enough water on them by setting an alarm twice a day. They kept him company-or at least tried to-, having no resentment towards their god for tormenting them all these years. The plants reminded him way too much of humans-the ones that followed her endlessly no matter how much she hurt them. After the flood, they still loved her. After allowing the guard of her garden’s eastern gate to be-almost-executed, he still loved her. Crowley wondered just how much the other humans-the satanists and atheists of earth-angered her. But then he thought if they truly did anger, wouldn’t she have done something? People sin all the time without confessing to a priest, Crowley should know. He’d see someone drunk on the streets, barely able to walk,some married man cheating on his wife with a prostitute or a woman betting all of her money at a casino, and see those same three in parks or in cars. If she truly was made at the humans for sinning or not believing in her, the Almighty would’ve done something about it. But yet again she gave humans no warning that she would wipe each and every single one of them out and make them pay even if they were innocent children.

“What exactly are you planning,hmm?” Crowley stared at the empty night sky, as if God was right there. He wished he was drunker. “Not just with the humans, but with everything. Your plan was to make angels and demons fight, yeah? Wipe everything and everyone from earth and have the battle here, but that was almost five years ago,and you’ve made no attempt to do that again.” He straightened himself and chuckled. “What? Me and him really scare you that bad? You’re god!Your little principality and the serpent of Eden-your ex-star maker-have a little rebellious moment against you, and you do nothing?! ‘All mighty’ yet you haven’t been in a conversation with any of your angels in several millennia!” There was no one around Muriel’s Book-Shop besides him and the Bentley to hear him yelling.“…..Ya’ know, a conversation would’ve been nice. Better than being told to take a hike by your speaker, The Metatron. That’s sort of childish, isn’t it? Having someone speak for you. Your really childish, ya’ know that?” He held the ‘e’ in really for a minute.

Now that he was hearing himself talk perfectly, he figured he was just tipsy and not actually drunk. He didn’t remember the last time he drank any type of wine. That was what he drank with Aziraphale. He tried to convince himself he was truly over Aziraphale, considering it’d been months. The last time he saw him, the air was much warmer than it was now, so Crowley had stayed in his car for most of the time from December to February. Maybe once it got warmer he’d visit Muriel again. It was like walking through a snow storm just to get to the door, and he’d have to wait for their approval for him to cross the barrier.

His alarm went off on his phone and he flipped it up from the seat across from him. As he went to press the stop button and schedule another alarm, he saw the time.3:59.

He tried to leave the plants with Muriel some time in August and sleep for a few millennia, but found that he had some form of insomnia that he thought only humans could get. It didn’t make him feel tired during the day, but sleep was like floating in space again, feeling numb and weightless. Sleep made him think about nothing. Not Aziraphale or the fact the almighty was a childish prick. Without any sleep he felt to many things and when he was drunk his head hurt afterwards. So he constantly felt to many things and it overwhelmed him. He wanted to cry but he begged his eyes to not do that. Anything but that. His eyes began to betray him, so he tilted his head down to the floor so they wouldn’t hit his face. Forgetting to open his legs so they’d fall directly to the floor, his holy water tears stung his thighs, going through his black jeans.The holy water wasn’t as strong, being a demons tears, so they didn’t sizzle his skin off, but instead burned. It’s like drizzling hot water on your skin. He didn’t care. He let the tears fall , just so he could have the chance of not feeling anything.

Once he finally stopped crying he opened his eyes and stared at his legs. There were several little pink circular scars, some small, some big, some creating lines down his legs as the holy water dripped off. His pants were torn up like some poked holes through them. He sighed, putting his head on the wheel. He needed to sleep for more than a millennia. The world,his world, was too much for him to handle at this moment. He’d have drank the rest of the holy water already if Muriel hadn’t taken in it. Probably for some sort of investigation they were doing. Snapping his fingers, the holes closed, and the holes in his pants were sewn back to normal, but the small little scars remained.

Sighing again, Crowley began to put the Bentley into drive, but it wouldn’t start.

“Oh come on, I’m barely drunk!”

The car didn’t comply with his wishes and just stayed put. Crowley was about to yell again until a disposable demon spawned out side of the Bentley, just waiting for the car door to be opened. The serpent, getting tired-and fairly disturbed- by a random demon staring idly and blankly into his window, grabbed his glasses and stepped out.

“What?”

“There’s a random fallen angel asking for you. It won’t tell us its name, or anything. Could be a spy from heaven won’t stop asking for-“

“Name doesn’t really matter now that they’re fallen, does it?” Crowley his back leaned on the Bentley for support against the fatigue and alcohol.

“…well….no, I suppose not. Think you know it?” The disposable demon teleported them both to hell. Crowley followed, swaying his non-existent hips as he walked down the dirty, crowded corridor. Hell was dingy as….well, hell. The screams of the damned could be heard,as well as the barks of hell hounds,waiting to be let out into the world. Demons and sinners alike crowded a single door, some even trying to pick the lock, but failing helplessly. Others tried scratching at the door with their claws. A demon working in the damnation department had to step in and take a pair of sinners with gunshot wounds back to their rightful area. The crowd caught his attention-or rather the familiar red hair of a demon caught his attention- and he began moving through the crowd towards the long haired ginger demon.

He grabbed Crowley’s shoulder.“You and that little angel pet of yours made a complete fool of me in 1941!”

The serpent didn’t look back at whoever had mentioned Aziraphale. “1941….oh! You’re…..”

The demon only got more furious. “Furfur!We’ve worked together for several millennia! We even worked on the same stars once!” The random, somewhat familiar, demon followed as Eric and Crowley pushed through the crowd, several demons swearing and clawing at them, so much so that the two had to fight not to be scratched or hit.

The mention of stars twisted the knife in Crowley’s everlasting wound. “Which-Oh,go take a swan dive off into boiling sulphur again!-which ones, exactly?”

The unknown demon gasped. “We worked on two whole constellations! How can you not-“ His voice instantly faded when a sinner in a cassock caught a hold of him and began to attempt some sort of ransom,demanding to be sent to heaven, calling himself a man of the lord.

“Eric-that’s it right?You’re name,I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Okay,good-very important thing to remember- do you know him? His voice is ringing some bells but not loud enough.”

Eric instantly caught to what he meant, admittedly and impressively quicker than any other demon or supernatural entity for that matter. “I don’t actually know..I think I remember Dagon talking about him once. Hey! We need to get through, move it!” The demon he yelled at, grabbed him quickly and shoved him into a hell hounds cell. Crowley winced as he screamed, and the demon just snarled at the staring serpent.

Morphing into a snake, Crowley slithered through the crowd of humanoid shaped things,narrowly avoiding some attempts to stomp him and into the room through a bullet hole at the bottom. The room was surprisingly bright and empty, yet so full of rusted filing cabinets that Crowley didn’t recognize. Morphing into a humanoid form, he looked around the room, hearing buzzing from the overhead lights. Dust particles flew around as Crowley slowly walked through the room. The silence was deafeningly loud, so much so Crowley began to actually breathe so he could hear something other than thoughts, smelling mold and moss and other organisms,but the only sounds were produced by him and the lights.

It didn’t take long for him to find a door and the slight smell of boiling sulphur burned his nose. The smell was too familiar to make him draw back, but it wasn’t pleasant and he stopped breathing. He opened the door and saw…more filing cabinets…

“Oh,come on! I don’t have time for this!” He quickly began to turn back, and had his hand on the handle before he heard a familiar voice.

“Mr. Crowley? Is that you?”

He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted to just go with his thoughts that told him he was hearing things and move on with his life, but he couldn’t;he cared too much to just leave. He cared more than he’d like to admit, so he turned slowly.

“Oh good…” Muriel stood there, with their usual clothes stained black, as well as their wings,he assumed…but he couldn’t see them. He brushed it off, thinking they had them hidden. He remembered being ashamed of his wings and his eyes at first too. “….Wait…where’s Mr- i mean the Supreme Archangel?….Mr Crowley…?”

Crowley couldn’t move, all he could do was stand there, staring widely. On their left shoulder were bandages that wrapped on their arm and across their chest. Their eyes,filled with confusion, shock and hope, striped of almost all innocence, made the knife in his chest go deeper. He felt dizzy, like he was the one who just fell, and stumbled into a filing cabinet.

“Mr Crowley! Are you okay-“

He put a hand up,signaling them to stop, and got up even if he barely had the ability to stand up right. His sunglasses were now in his hand,and he just stared at Muriel-or whatever new name they’d want to pick for themselves-with watery, serpentine eyes.

Muriel’s eyes,that resembled those of a pigeon, went wide. “Your….” They looked to the ground,thinking. “Eyes! Yes, that’s right! Your eyes are leaking! Is that a demon thing? I never saw that happen much in Heaven, so it must be a demon thing.”

Muriel continued talking, and Crowley let them. They seemed happy, like they never fell. Did they fall? Where are their wings? Are they hiding them because they hurt, or did something happen to them? His mind raced with questions that he could ask later. He was going to ask them later, when this euphoric rush they felt was over. When they could focus on what happened and any questions he had. But for now, he let them talk and talk and talk as demons continued clawing and screaming at the door, then it connected that a demon had scratched them and they were the explanation for the bandages. Crowley would deal with them later, so for now a simple miracle to help drown out the sound would suffice.

“Oh. That’s much better now. You can hear me. We’re in hell, right? Is that why they were screaming? They shouted some….things….but not all demons are bad. I’m not bad…I don’t think…you’re not bad, because you’re friends with Supreme Archangel Aziraphale. I saw you two put your faces together through the window, is that a human thing?”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. He blinked, tried to talk and failed, finally resorting to a simple nod. His answer was the truth, it was a human thing, but in that instance, in the time Muriel was referencing, it didn’t feel like one. People kiss for love. Crowley’s kiss was for …..also love, but it didn’t feel like it. He felt angry about it. How could Aziraphale not see that it was love, when it most clearly was?

….

The stress Heaven gave its new archangel was making him frantic. They’d been planning to bestow a child to a virgin, and Aziraphale had to go down and tell her. Aziraphale didn’t know how to handle any of that, he wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t made for that! The original Archangels were made to handle such responsibilities, not principalities that managed to get to the top! What was he to say exactly? Oh, sorry to bother you in the middle of the night miss, please don’t call the authorities. I’m here to tell you that you’re pregnant with the lords child, isn’t that such good news! There truly was no way to casually say something like that. It wasn’t like the old times. Women today had a choice, and what if she doesn’t want to have a child? What then? Aziraphale wasn’t going to force her to have a child. He knew how painful and risky and traumatic it could be for the mother and the child. There were too many things to think about, all of which was pinned on him.

“But,people today aren’t like Mary and Joseph were.”

“There has to be someone who wants to parent the Second Coming,Aziraphale. Why would you not want to?!” Micheal responded.

“But there’s so many risks and dangers! The mother and the child could die, or have complications!”

“Then we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen!….Just go down there and tell her! It’s not that hard Aziraphale.”

Uriel and Micheal both treated him like he was still just the principality guarding the eastern gate of Eden. Aziraphale wanted to protest, but thought it’d be good to go a day in advance so she could get a full nights rest before the news-

“It’s not going like last time.” The Metatron was suddenly beside Aziraphale’s desk.

“….what?” Micheal said.

“It’s not going like last time. We actually have the Second Coming here with us, and we’re going to send it to earth as an adult human.”

“What, why?” Aziraphale looked at the Metatron.

“The humans were too reckless with the last one, so it’d be best to keep it here for the time being.”

Aziraphale, Micheal and Uriel sat there puzzled. Yes, the humans were reckless with Jesus, crucifying him, but that didn’t mean anything. Him dying was beneficial to the humans, wasn’t it? So why not do it again?

“And….the almighty said to do it this way?” Uriel asked, confused.

“Yes.”

Aziraphale put his hands together and put them to his mouth, his elbows on his desk. There was a weight off of his shoulders, but why would they do it differently?

“-and we’ll teach it how to properly judge humanity by looking at what they’ve done. And ,Aziraphale?”

He snapped out of thought quickly. “Yes?”

“If you could educate the child on what’s defined as worthy of heaven or hell, that’d be better for us all.” Micheal couldn’t help but scoff at the Metatron.

Aziraphale sighed and got up. “I’ll do it. One moment, I’ll be right back.”

He needed to get away from everything. It was too much and began to give him a headache. He approached the giant globe and hesitated for a second. “You’re Supreme Archangel, act like it.” Micheal had told him a few days ago. She was right. He did need to act like it.

He touched the area on the globe that was the right spot. It must be late at night there by now, so no one would care if he randomly teleported there, right?

Before Uriel could stop him and say something, Aziraphale quickly teleported to Earth, directly outside of his bookshop.

[andvys]

Tattoo Kiss part 29!!!

- "You would realize that you never loved him as much as you thought you did. You would forget about him. So he left first, thinking that that would be easier.” He could´ve just talked with Y/N instead of causing both of them pain.

- “He can hear your voice, those questions that must´ve gone through your mind when he started skipping dates with you to spend time with her. When he stopped calling you, every night” UGH! I hate it! Like I said before, why would he be skipping date nights WITH Y/N  just to see someone else. Also, he supposed that Reader could cheat on him because a lot of jocks tried to flirt with her, but she didn´t pay then attention!

- Again, Eddie x Y/N! They´re the best couple!!!

- Steve didn´t want to see that Y/N fell for Eddie, it´s giving when Y/N had to see Steve “falling” for Nancy

- Back to the old house? That song´s so sad!

- Ok, I’m kinda sad for Steve

- “For Stevie” Aw, she´s so sweet! ☹

- Aww the note was so sweet, I’m crying!

- “He wanted you to be his princess” Awwww ☹

- “Your heart wasn´t broken yet” And there it goes, I don´t feel bad about Steve anymore, like why would you break the heart of the person you say you love, and that you get jealous over? (I still remember that he said that he didn´t love her)

- “The start of something beautiful- before he ruined it all” AHHHHH

-  Steve just acted so bad when he was super jealous of the boys who flirted with Y/N, he should´ve talked with them and not treating Y/N so bad.

-  “And as the months had passed, the words on the ripped out pages began to sound more desperate. Sadder and more heartbreaking as you begged for his love, not knowing that Steve had left the little world you got stuck in” Poor Y/N, like she was desperate for Steve to treat her like he once did, but he was just so blind in jealousy. And she begged for his love, like?? How much can he hurt someone and not trust in that person even if you see them suffering because of you? But again, I’m guessing it´s because of the jealousy

- “False promises, empty words and lies became his and your reality” Oh boy!

-  “He held your heart and he kept ripping it apart, piece by piece. And yet, you never loved him any less” He hurted her un purpose, but she still stayed with him supporting him, just for him to break her heart and date someone else? Like I get it, he was jealous and hurting, but I don´t think he had the maturity (mental and emotional) to be in a relationship while his feelings were so mixed!

-  “You wanted him to love you and he did. He could see how the light was fading in your eyes, how sadness was a bigger emotion in you than happiness was, how the love you had for him was making you miserable because all he did was hurt you and all you did was love him” Poor Y/N, staying in that relationship because she loved him, but the old version of him, and thinking that he could change but then realizing that he changed because of someone else and not because he wanted to have a better relationship with you, that´s hurtful

- “She distracted him enough for him to stop calling you to say goodnight or I love you” That sucks! Poor Y/N, maybe she started to feel alone at that point

- “You never knew that he was sneaking around with her behind your back” That´s something an asshole would do

- “While he was loving on another girl, you were writing love notes to him” AWWWW! He doesn´t deserves her!

- “He dumped you while you were still holding onto him” UGH! I hate him!

“I´m sure you´re sick of these notes and letters, it´s been a while since you wrote one back to me, it´s been 6 weeks actually. I don´t know why I even bother anymore, you don´t even seem to want them. I´m pretty sure that you don´t even read them anymore. You used to be so excited about them, now you just don´t care anymore. I  don´t know if you still care about me or us.

You don´t talk to me as much as you used to. I never know what you do or where you are. I keep leaving the window open for you, hoping that you´ll come, but you don´t, you never do anymore. And I can´t look away from the fact that something has changed between us. I tried to look away, I really did because I didn´t want to see how your eyes no longer search for me but for her. I kept ignoring things, I kept telling myself what I wanted to hear and closed my eyes to what was happening In front of me. I kept holding onto the past, onto the love you once had for me, I kept holding onto the promises you had made because I wanted to believe that you wouldn´t lie to me but you changed, we've changed.

But maybe it´s just me overthinking, maybe nothing is wrong, maybe you still want me, maybe you still love me. I hope you do. I hope you still love me, Steve. I don´t want to live in a world were we aren´t together.

I hope that you will tell me that you still love me. I hope that you will hold me again the way you used to. I hope that things can go back to the way they were before.

If you´re reading this, I love you.”

-AHHHHHH! The angst in that, like she knew something was going on with him and Nancy, but was too afraid to know if it was true or not

- October, 30th 1984. “You wrote it the day before he broke your heart” AHHH that hurts.

- “He shattered a heart that was already broken- a heart that he kept breaking for months and months, only to crush it completely at the very end” I´m crying again!

- “He doesn´t deserve you, he never did” I agree with that, but first, listen, like, he should have just talked with her, and maybe things could´ve get fixed easily, he could´ve talked with the boy that flirted with her, and tell him to fuck off, instead, he went to Nancy, he didn´t even tried to repair the pieces of heart that he left when he hurt Y/N

There was no Eddie x Reader in this part, so I don´t like that, but you said it was a Steve centered chapter, so I get it, I still don´t think that Steve deserves her, because he just couldn´t stop from feeling jealous when she was hurting for his love, she loved him despite everything, even despite knowing he was seeing Nancy while he was still with her, and I know he has changed, but if that was me, I just can´t see myself (or Y/N) trusting again in that one person who hurt me more than anything, and who seemed like he wanted me to be hurt. Also, I think that when Y/N got into cheerleader things, she gained popularity, maybe that's when Steve jealousy appeared, but, they were best friend's before being a couple, he knows how she is and still he decides that she was gonna cheat on him so he emotionally cheats on her? I'm still team Eddie, even if I cried with this!

-🩷

You're right! He didn't have the maturity to be in such a serious relationship yet, especially while he was struggling so much with his feelings and with himself.

He was awful to her because of his jealousy and because of his insecurities -- and he was really trying to be good but that weak and bad side of him kept him from giving her the love she deserved. He was so afraid of losing her that he ended up hurting her in the worst ways possible.

Her popularity was definitely a problem to him but only a few months into their relationship.

I get why you don't want her with Steve, too many bad things happened and he treated her unfairly while Eddie had been good to her from the start and would never do any of those things Steve did in the past -- Steve wouldn't repeat his mistakes either, he'd never hurt her that way and he will have to live with this regret for the rest of his life, whether he gets a second chance or not.

[winter-daffodils]

on trying again and letting go

It was a random night when you discovered this little old blog. It was filled with the musings of a hopeless romantic teenager exploring life, love and heartaches. I remember telling you how writing about a boy in that blog would eventually lead to us falling apart, like I was jinxed — you were the first boy I didn't write (until today) and yet, we still fell apart. This tells me a lot about us, we were doomed from the beginning and fated to meet but never to last.

So here I am penning my first and last post about you. I have no hopes of you stumbling in my blog again, I didn't even think I'd write again but I have so much hurt I don't know where to fit it anymore so I run to the only safe space I know. And if by some twisted fate you do find this, I hope you do not take it against me, after all, it was me who didn't have a choice except to accept everything.

We first talked on the 27th of February, I remember how awkward I was I couldn't even turn my camera on but we instantly clicked and I felt comfortable talking to you — one of the few pros on my list: how easy it was to talk to you and how you made me win when it matters. But the pros and cons list suddenly found an imbalance, in a matter of months the list of cons grew, while the pros decreased little by little. Yet I stayed, I was willing to settle because I liked you or if I am bold enough, I could even say I loved you. It wasn't an easy choice to stay and I was an indecisive girl but I chose you...over and over again.

But would I choose you again? Probably not. You made your choice too and it felt like the easiest one you had to make. I tried to fight, find a way to make it work, begged the universe again if they could intervene, but when I did, all I got was anger from your text messages (when you can barely text when we were still together) so I stopped fighting. I betrayed myself long enough so it's time to finally let go — after all, they say the final act of love is letting go.

Our time apart has made me realize that exhausting myself and wearing myself thin would not make you see my worth — I tried, I endured but all I gained were calls when it's convenient, messages when you needed to boost your ego, and conditional love based on the things I can give that you deem worthy. I realized the hard way that the torture you sold for love is not a challenge for me to prove myself even more, you just really didn't like me enough.

Sometimes I still think, "If I hadn't answered that phone call, would things be different?" It would be that's for sure, but that doesn't mean it would be better. So I took it as God's sign that I'm just not meant to stay here because I can't keep loving someone who made me feel in constant survival mode just so I can keep him, or someone makes me constantly confused about where I stand in this life, and I can't keep loving someone who does not mind punishing me with the silent treatment and gives me crumbs of affection just to keep me wanting for more. It took me a while to realize this but then I remembered that I am the love of my life (and you are a man, unfortunately) and I am too full of love to settle for half a heart.

I thought this was anger I was feeling until I realized, it was grief. I was mourning for the version of you I created in my head, for the plans we made, promises you gave and the could have beens if you only held on a little longer. I am grieving because there are still days I would wonder if you actually liked me, then find myself crying when I realize you didn't because if you did maybe you would care about my feelings more, text me when I asked you to, reassure me when I needed it, and maybe you would find a way to see me instead of giving me endless excuses as to why you can't make it. Though I still grieve and think of you from time to time, you won't hear from me again because what's dead should remain dead and buried.

I don't want to wish you ill but I hope it haunts you forever — how you fumbled the girl who only wanted to feel like she wasn't hard to love. But hey, is it because I asked for too little that you think I didn't deserve much at all?

[letterstodiana]

18/03/24

I wish things were different. I wish I was different. I wish we couldn’t go back to how we were, just holed up in that little room on Wexford Street; that was the room I fell so deeply in love with you. I wish I was more concentrated and focused; enough to have stayed in RCSI. I know things would have been better for us. 

I have enjoyed every second of our relationship. From the highs to the very lows. I still remember waking up and seeing that note on my door. It was perhaps the sweetest thing I’ve ever wanted someone to do for me, I probably saw it in a TV show or a movie. I loved how genuine it was, how thoughtful it was and the stickie notes just kept coming. They kept spreading, they kept appearing, from my wallet to my bags to my jackets. I had never experienced love on that scale and I wanted to be with your forever at that point. 

I always thought that being there for somebody was all there was to being a relationship. I realised I was wrong. There is no fundamental line, no rule that you should follow. Love is your own type of love and no one can tell you differently. I felt distant the last six months, I didn’t feel the love I wanted or needed, I didn’t feel important or cherished, I didn’t feel wanted. I know we were both busy and settling into our new lifestyles but I felt that we should have put in more effort. I should have put in more effort. 

I did a lot of soul searching and thinking after I took my CR. I found that my love language was gift giving and communication. I needed people to check in on me without me asking or talk to me without me provoking them, to want to talk to me and actually have a conversation. I think that’s why my relationship with my mom had sour over the last six months as well, she wasn’t there for me. Nobody was. I’m not blaming anyone. It is my own flaw that led me to not reaching out but I’ve always felt that once I have had to ask for something, the sincerity and the genuineness of it all, ceases to exist and I don’t reciprocate or want it as much anymore. 

This flaw is one of the reasons I haven’t reached out to you. It’s been about two weeks. I’ve started telling people about us. “Unofficially broken up” that’s what I’ve dubbed us as. I’m hoping you contact me. I need you to. I need you to show me you want this relationship still cause I don’t know if you still do. I saw those playlist you created, those comments your friends made. I don’t know if you want this “new” Seth that you’ve said I’ve become. I’m still the same guy, I just started putting my happiness over yours, because your happiness wasn’t enough for to make me happy anymore. You didn’t make me happy anymore. Our energies weren’t in sync and even on your last day in Singapore, when you left me, you didn’t make me feel anything; you didn’t cry, you didn’t write me a note, you made your departure unlike how you usually do, and I cried that night, knowing that our time will soon come to an end. I felt it there. 

Through all the various conversations about us, I realised what I want now. 

I want someone that can push me to be my best version, not just blind encouragements but calculated pushes. I should have taken the CR. I should have put more effort into studying and I needed to be accountable to someone. 

I want someone who is happy to be with me. Who’s left all my baggage at the door and just embraces me for who I am in front of them and who I am now. 

I want someone who understands me. Someone who tries to love me the way I need to be loved and who continuously fights for us because to me, that shows me Iove 

I’ve got about six days to my flight and you haven’t contacted me or tried to make contact. I haven’t booked any flights yet and I can’t force myself to do it. I’m getting worried that I can no longer hold this candle I have for you. It’s stupid but I know that you probably just need a bit more time. But I don’t..

[tkswlsk]

3rd September 2023

3:32 am

To you

Quite honestly, my life has absolutely fell apart since you left, i am left in shambles with no one i can speak my mind to, so i text you in between busy days, "Do you miss me like i miss you?"

In my last letter to you, i wrote I didn't want to name what we had, it was beyond anything a mere word could hold. We were not friends, we were not lovers, I wouldn't dare call ourselves soulmates either, we were two people so completely absorbed into the other that when you left,i believe a part of me left with you, i'd say the very best part.

I often read our old texts, i try to make myself understand that nostalgia just makes everything feel a hundred times better. I lie to myself. I go through our texts, i go through your letters, i go through the story you wrote me before you left, i go through the books you left, i see the bizarre things you'd do on a daily basis for me, painting me or writing me a poem, sending my name to mars lol, open fan accounts for me, and just think only how much of your life was about me. And just how much was mine about you. You were always there, through every heartbreak and every ignorant man i fought online, you were with me. Making sure you never slept without having me fall asleep, making sure i wasn't suffocating myself with my thoughts.

Of all the years i've spent intertwining my life with yours, my favourite bit has to be the last. as memorable and fun in the most childish way we were before, after your mother died something changed in us, both of us. Do you remember you calling me from the hospital balcony? It was during the pandemic, and i'd stay awake all night in case you'd call. I knew, you were alone in the hospital room. I remember how you said you couldn't cry, i remember asking your friends to visit you, i even remember consoling your girlfriend when she complained she hadn't heard from you. I remember everything, and i remember everything way too much to let anything go.

After the December, i tried to create a balance in my university life and my life with you. After what happened, i didn't have the heart in me to leave you alone for a second. I remember missing classes to watch movies with you, or sit silently in daylong calls with you. I didn't want there to be a moment when you needed me and i wasn't there. So i did my best. And as time went by, you healed, very slowly but you started making jokes again.

May happened, i remember sitting on a call prior to leaving for rs with you. i remember almost crying thinking i will not make friends, i'd keep asking you to keep texting me, you promised you would. And you kept it, even on days that were painfully lonely, i had a text from you. on boring afternoons you'd ring up my phone. There was not a moment when i needed you and you weren't there. but thing was, i was purposefully cooped up in my self build cage all my life, the new version of me surprised me. I had never opened myself up so much, the new, the exciting got the best of me. And for most part, i wasn't even me. Consequentially, with you i was absent.

Do you remember the afternoon you called me to let me know you were leaving later that month? T heard the whole conversation and said "No one will find anything like the two of you". i silently nodded.

i remember your sniffles and i remember wiping my tears aggressively so that my roommates don't see. I remember you, as i remember me. I felt betrayed, ever since we were teens we planned on going abroad for college together and now you're leaving, you're leaving me behind. i knew just like me, the new the exciting will also be the reason for your absence in my life, i was being selfish, i wanted you to stay right where you were, right where you always had been. i knew i won't have your unopened text every time i checked anymore, i won't have your missed calls on my call logs no longer.

So, we drifted apart, just as i expected. I never actually found someone like you, but then again it'd be impossible to. Unless i take birth again and spend the most vulnerable years of my life, sharing every single detail and thought with someone like you. I still listen to bestfriend on the days i can't seem to grasp the idea of losing what i had. I still read Eleanor and Park and the note i wrote for you, i wish i could've given it to you.

I think i'll fail tomorrow, but i couldn't sleep without writing to you.

Love

s

[voidwaren]

You said somewhere you got your ADHD diagnosed late in life. How is that going? I'm 25 and I think I have it but I don't know if it's too late to bother getting it checked.

anon, it is never too late, especially if you're a cis female or grew up female. you would not BELIEVE how under diagnosed ADHD is in females. I'm talking, like, they didn't believe girls had ADHD until the late 90s, if I'm remembering correctly, and didn’t even do a lengthy study until 2007 (I think? I was in high school when it happened, I know that much), because girls just apparently weren’t able to have it. (or, if they did, it was incredibly rare. which is total bullshit, but I digress.) AND they're still learning things about ADHD in females, unlike in males where certain things have just been known for years and years due to all the studies being only on males.

please get screened if you think you have it. mental breakdown and critical burnout are the tipping point you really don't want to reach if you can help it.

and now, too many words:

that being said, that's what caused me to get checked after realizing all that shit going on with me wasn't laziness and general life anxiety. I had a huge breakdown (one of quite a few, but I previously thought it was just stress) and, at 27, finally went and got checked. (I think actually you can see me coming to the realization on this blog, because that was around when I was writing WiS and realizing, hey, something's kinda fucky here. people keep talking about ADHD in my version of Warren, but *I* don’t have it.)

(... OR DO I?)

y’all. I did better scoring on that test than I ever did in school. 

turns out I had a bunch of symptoms that, because I am a 90s child, no one batted an eye at. terrible anxiety (not just a shy child and an awkward adult), poor learning skills (not just laziness with applying myself), depression and low self-esteem (from a life of thinking I was just too dumb to understand in school, no matter how hard I tried), rejection sensitive dysphoria (not just being “too sensitive” and needing “thicker skin”), constant stomach problems and insomnia due to hyperactivity.

(I will never stop complaining about the fact that my insomnia is so bad, my mom took me to the doctor as a young child because I would not sleep at nap time in preschool and had trouble falling asleep at night, and the doctor went, "oh yeah, she just doesn't need much sleep, it's fine." SIR. THAT'S NOT A THING.) 

(I could list all the things I have and do that were red flags, but I’d be here a while, and I also can’t remember all of them, SO.)

I literally never knew. I always brushed them off because they ran in the family and were just A Thing(TM) that I would have to deal with in life like everyone else. only one of my male cousins was diagnosed ADHD, so why would I have it? so I developed a way to deal with it, and I moved on with my life.

now I know that, no, I don't need to try harder, middle school math teacher that took me aside one day and said I really needed to start applying myself. I need DRUGS.

(and coping mechanisms. better ones, because some of the ones I use to mask and do daily things are, uh. not good. and caused a lot of problems I now have to have therapy to deal with.)

so, yeah. here I am now, almost 31, discovering things all the time. it's a learning process. it feels like I’m going, “oh, that’s an ADHD thing? okay...” constantly. I still tear up whenever I hear someone tell me they also have it and that they aren’t just “not trying hard enough”, and I am not a crier. that phrase has just stuck with me to the point where it’s a trigger, and I WILL start crying if the planets align and someone says it to me at the right moment.

I still get overstimulated and overwhelmed very easily. I still struggle to do a lot of things that other people will look at and go, “I did it, why can’t you?” I’m still trying to figure out better ways to handle my reaction to daily things, rather than allowing my anxiety to take over. I’m still trying to just get by in life, living in a world not made for me. 

but now that I know why I act the way I do, dealing with it is so much easier to stomach that, sometimes, I cannot believe it’s real. (sometimes I still go, “do I actually have ADHD or was everyone right? this can’t be real.”) a lifetime of “why do I act like this?” is finally solved, and holy shit. I do not have the words to explain how much better I feel.

please, please, please go get checked if you’re able to. try to find one that knows how to diagnose females if you are a cis female or previously identified as a cis female, because there are still problems with diagnosing and some doctors will write off symptoms if they don’t have a background in specifically female ADHD, not just ADHD in general. (I went to see a female ADHD specialist, for example, who had it herself.)

if you’re a cis male or previously identified as a cis male, you might have it a little easier, but it’s still more common to be undiagnosed than you’d think, so don’t let that stop you from getting checked. confirmation for or against it is a stepping stone towards figuring out why you do certain things that may be hindering you in life.

you might have to do a lot of calling around for prices if funds are an issue (there are some places that do it for cheap, if not free, but they’re VERY hard to find sometimes), and you may have to go to more than one place, but in the end it will be worth it. I promise.

[zmediaoutlet]

writing asks: 10, 11, 19 and 30, please and thank you :)

yayyy thanks bud

10. Top three favourite fic tropes & 11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

Combining this answer into one with the help of handy-dandy meme:

Top three remains true; overrated would probably be the... B tier? I definitely think sharing a bed is wildly overrated. But, of course, all of this depends on execution. I won't click on anything just because of a 'mutual pining' tag -- tropes are helpful tools but you have to be a decent builder to use them properly.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Something about the flick of the woman's long fingers, the reference. Sam's face heats and Dean sees, of course, and gives him a narrow-eyed look, but apparently he's reading it as embarrassment because he breaks out in a grin. New expression on this new face: this woman's got a slightly crooked canine and a smile that gives her slanting fox-eyes, charming and wicked. "Sammy," Dean says, sing-song and high, and Sam drags a hand over his face. "Shouldn't do it if you can't talk about it."

"Any-way," Sam says, while Dean sniggers. Figures, Dean chills out while Sam gets more flustered. Jerk. "We've got approximately squat to go on. We've got random details but we have no idea why, for any of it. We've got to figure out why it happened if we're gonna have any chance of fixing it."

The smile dims, although there's still a sorta-twinkle in Dean's borrowed eye. "We know how to fix it," he says, oddly neutral.

Sam stands up, flipping his legal pad into his bag and packing up, though with no clear idea of where they'll go. "Let's aim for a fix that's more long-term."

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn’t.

Oh, tough one. I have a bunch of fics that are still allegedly waiting to be written, on the long long long to-do list. A slightly different answer, a fic that was intended to go one way and went entirely another? I wrote a s2 fic a while back called in tenebris veritas (stupid title, but oh well), and the actual first idea for the fic was pretty different. What I ended up writing was a Dean POV fic where he and Sam had had blackout, unexpectedly violent sex, and Sam was deeply embarrassed and ashamed, and Dean ended up making Sam feel better because it turns out he’ll take whatever Sam will dish out. Which, okay. Fine.

What I wanted to write was a Sam POV story with the same inciting premise, but one in which he woke up and went, wow, we were pretty crazy last night, and it’s a slow dawning horror that he (it turns out) was fairly rough and violent and Dean’s actually quite hurt, this morning. He was going to be ashamed and, particularly, ashamedly turned on, because we know that Sammy is an animal in the sack and I think it’s very interesting to peek into the ways he wants to want things, in particular the ways he wants not to want things. We got a bit of that in the fic that was published. But what I really wanted to do was have Dean be a mystery -- that Sam would look into his face and not know, not for sure, whether Dean liked it or not -- whether Dean was lying about being fine or whether he was actually fine -- whether Dean were just trying to make Sam feel better -- whether he was, and this is key, afraid of what Sam might be or do. All of that tied into the larger s2 story of Dean keeping secrets + “is something wrong with Sam?”  Somehow, though, when I went to write it, I just... couldn’t. (And it was a bad depression day and my brain was lying to me about how I was a terrible writer, because it’s a dick.) So I flipped it, and went for the more boring but easier version.

I sometimes think about doing the exercise of rewriting it. A diptych, or something. But there’s always the next story, so -- it may just be lost to the ether.

[jkstompers]

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date. 

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken. 

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date. 

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you. 

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her. 

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing, 

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover? 

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :) 

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days? 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie 

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first 

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to. 

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you. 

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something. 

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind. 

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out. 

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying. 

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous. 

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly. 

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him. 

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it. 

feeling okay? 

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk. 

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening. 

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :( 

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you. 

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen. 

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here 

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love. 

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now. 

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight? 

check: ◯  yes ◯ no 

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never. 

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second. 

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no 

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!” 

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again. 

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?” 

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?” 

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing. 

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs. 

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?” 

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot. 

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.” 

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date. 

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair. 

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you. 

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying  that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you. 

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7. 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck 

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!! 

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay! 

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat. 

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment. 

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”  

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you. 

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass. 

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again. 

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take. 

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you. 

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat. 

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?” 

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.” 

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless. 

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous. 

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold. 

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.” 

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in. 

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand. 

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face. 

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table. 

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order. 

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around. 

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!” 

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.” 

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive. 

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere. 

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully. 

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you. 

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america? 

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.” 

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile. 

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same. 

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain. 

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction. 

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!” 

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him. 

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love. 

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it. 

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside. 

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.” 

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did. 

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips. 

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind. 

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant. 

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you. 

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste. 

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was. 

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this. 

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.” 

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up. 

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel. 

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this? 

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.” 

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.” 

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?” 

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.” 

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.” 

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest. 

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb. 

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?” 

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more. 

“can i kiss you again, kookie?” 

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“ 

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you. 

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips. 

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.” 

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words. 

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?” 

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks. 

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?” 

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true. 

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice. 

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away. 

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently. 

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark. 

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again. 

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves. 

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.” 

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”  

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good. 

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.  

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers. 

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“ 

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.” 

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific. 

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.” 

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ” 

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more. 

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers. 

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears. 

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper.  you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes. 

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.” 

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it. 

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely. 

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax. 

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual. 

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.” 

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation. 

 “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers. 

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick. 

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows. 

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly. 

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.” 

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.” 

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight. 

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans. 

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.” 

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling.  the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?” 

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?” 

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time. 

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh. 

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow. 

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?” 

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues. 

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex. 

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles. 

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy. 

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight. 

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook 

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3 

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay? 

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :) 

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :) 

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie 

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now 

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie 

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams! 

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

[basedklee]

i read your infertility imagines. they were ok i guess (actually i didnt like them) but i believe your writing can be put to better use. can i request something? yandere genshin men reacting to just being mc's little side piece. like mc already has a committed, steady relationship, her men are just little boytoys she keeps around for when she gets bored.

it’s honestly truly terrifying how i can’t tell if this is a real ask or a joke ask sent by a friend, like i genuinely can’t remember if i’ve received a discord message informing me this would be sent and it shakes me to my core. regardless, i hope you enjoy these imagines anon! eat shit and die <3333333333

albedo

he’s very hurt, but he also feels like he should have known this was coming. throughout his upbringing, rhinedottir made it clear to him that if he could not perform at a level she was satisfied with she would abandon him, the implication that she would just start fresh with a better version of him always there.

it seems natural to him -- after years of being taught that it’s normal for your value as a person to be based on what you can do for the people around you -- that you would toss him aside as soon as you found someone better than him

but still. despite knowing he should just bow out as gracefully as he can, he tries to appeal to you until the very end.

during what he estimates to be the last few months of your relationship, he begins to study the new man in your life: your Snezhnayan Borzoi/Pug mix, Buttons, that you adopted a year after the two of you married. he follows the dog around the house with his sketchpad and pencil, jotting down notes and drawing sketches of the odd, gangly beast as he slept or ate or played

he takes careful note of everything about the creature you seem to find endearing -- the way he snorts and wheezes when he runs too fast/long, the way he scrabbles around on his spindly limbs and trips over his own paws as he runs, the way he often bonks his head on pieces of furniture and walls because of his night blindness -- everything so that he can make those traits his own and make you his once again

the “transformation” he has planned is almost complete after about four months, but you happen to go through his sketchbook while he’s in the shower and come across his plans, seeing the sketches of his multiple plans to replace Buttons (plan a was a fursuit, plan b was to change his physical form with alchemy, plan c was to fuse himself with Buttons... it went on through the alphabet to plan 20)

fear grips him when he walks out of the bathroom and sees you sitting on your shared bed with it in your lap, your beautiful face twisted up in an expression conveying an emotion even you yourself can’t name

Albedo... you say, shaking your head in disbelief as you lift up the sketchbook. What the hell is this?

the two of you stand there very, very awkwardly for about five minutes and 33 seconds as he tries to come up with an excuse. Any pretty lie that he can spit out that will save him from having to watch you walk out the door right at that moment.

he can’t come up with anything, though, and just starts crying. I had no choice. You were going to leave me for him, I just knew it.

My god. you say as you pull out your phone and schedule an appointment for him with the therapist you’ve been trying to get him to see, knowing he can’t weasel his way out of it by claiming he’s perfectly fine and normal any longer. I don’t know what exactly this is, but it must be the mommy issues again.

wagner

he snorts when you tell him he’s only your number two in a heated argument, not taking his gaze away from the sword he’s hammering. the rhythm of his strikes never breaking, he mutters just loud enough for you to hear, And did you think you were the only one for me?

you bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him, not wanting to disturb anyone. it’s dusk, the streetlights lining the roads around the smithy slowly blinking on and the people that are usually around, loitering the streets or tending to their own businesses, have turned in for the day. even schulz, who usually acts as an unwilling mediator between you two during fights like these, has left for the evening

it’s just you and wagner now, but even with it being just the two of you you still can’t seem to catch his eye. I did this for you! you mutter, stifling a sob. So you would look at me! So you would show me that you care.

Foolish. he grumbles, hammer still beating steadily against steel. If you want to go around, throwing yourself at any man that will take you, be my guest. I will never care.

you stagger back a half step as you struggle to swallow down another sob. maybe you brought this all on yourself. maybe this is all your fault for falling into swan’s arms in that single moment of weakness five months ago. maybe you should forget about wagner. finally give in and marry swan like he’s been asking you to for the past few weeks.

wouldn’t it be better for you to be loved by a man you only like than to love a man that can never even look at you? wouldn’t it be better for the baby to have a father that was willing to actually be there and attentive than a father that most likely wouldn’t even claim them if you told him the truth about your recent weight gain? wouldn’t it be better for wagner if you would just let him go? if you would just stop clinging to him uselessly and distracting him from his work? if you would stop deluding yourself into thinking you’re anything special to him

Did you ever love me? you whisper, unsure if he can hear over his hammering but deep in your hear knowing it doesn’t matter. you already know the answer

...Never. Not even for a second.

you swallow down one last sob and, shaking, turn to leave. I know it won’t mean anything, but I love you... Goodbye Wagner.

he waits until you’re streets away -- hurrying to Swan’s apartment where he awaits you with open arms -- to drop his hammer and brace himself against his worktable, a strangled sob wheezing out of him.

he hated hurting you and he detested allowing swan to have you (if any of you have forgotten this is a yandere post so he’s possessive and crazy but in a sexy way y’know?) but he just couldn’t be the man you deserved.

not after losing that drunken bet with cavalry captain kaeya six months ago that forced him to stand at his post in the workshop 24/7 for the next ten years

itto

he tries to be strong when you tell him you’re dating not one, not two, but all three of the male members of his gang and that he’ll have to settle for fourth place after he casually asks you to be his one day

he tries to laugh it off, even. asking you if you’re joking or something because you must be, right? his boys -- his precious, precious boys. his buddies. his amigos -- would never keep such a big secret from him! especially when he had told them how he felt about you as soon as he fell in love at first sight seeing you totally wash the competition in the mochi eating competition you met at. they would never sneak around behind his back!

his heart sinks when the three of them peek their heads around the corner and start shuffling over to the two of you, each of them giving you a (tasteful!) slap on the butt as they walk up and take their positions around you. genta puts his arm around your waist while mamoru links arms with you and akira stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders

We’re sorry, Boss, we didn’t want you to find out like this... mamoru says, staring remorsefully at Itto (taking a quick pause to give you a tender kiss on the neck). It’s just... Y/N confessed to us and, well, you should know how irresistible they are since you wanted them first and all...

We... were definitely... going to... tell you... eventually... Boss... genta continues, giving you a kiss on the lips during each pause.

We really hope this doesn’t change things between us. We all still have nothing but the deepest respect for you, Boss, akira finishes as he massages your shoulders.

itto’s stomach twists, his heart severely conflicted.

on one hand, he was yandere for you. ever since he met you his body and soul has ached for you, the pain greater than the time he ate all that tofu and had the worst allergic reaction of his life. you were beautiful, powerful, dangerous, cold. you had a magic that couldn’t be controlled. stronger than one... stronger than ten... stronger than a hundred men you were perfect and he wanted so desperately to have you but.

on the other hand, he was yandere for his gang. for a large part of his life, they and granny oni were all he could call truly his. they were some of the only people that truly understood him, or at least, made the effort to understand. their loyalty (outside of this little slip up), kindness, and bravery that he’s become so intimately familiar with throughout the years has entranced him just as his own greatness has entranced them

he couldn’t tell who he was more jealous of and who, as a yandere, he should get rid of

I... Need time to think... he says before walking away, his heart dashed in many ways.

Oh dear... you say as he finally leaves from view breaking away from genta’s lips to stare after him. I hope he’s not too upset. We did our best to break it to him delicately.

the members of your harem nod.

He just needs time. they assure you as they lead you back to the hideout to cuddle.

[solomonish]

Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol

I hope you like it!

---

It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular. 

The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.

Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.

When you start coughing:

The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.

He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.

When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.

He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.

He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.

Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”

That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards

Taking care of you afterwards:

Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.

That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.

There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)

Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone

He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”

Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.

Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom. 

Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.

When you start coughing:

At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it

So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together

That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.

He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you

They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back

(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”) 

(Lucifer: he WHAT)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being. 

When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you

Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross

Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?

You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference

Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask

He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.

He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself

When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.

(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)

(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)

When you start coughing:

Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.

That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.

When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.

(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die. 

Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.

You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.

When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it. 

“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”

Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh

If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”

You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you

You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”

Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.

He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.

When you start coughing:

Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.

However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.

He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.

He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects

(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.

Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.

He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.

(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)

Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”

Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

When you start coughing:

Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.

He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).

He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.

This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?

He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?

For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting. 

Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!

Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.

Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.

When you start coughing:

When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.

He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor

Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening

He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.

He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories

He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while

He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.

Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it

He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.

When you start coughing:

Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.

If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake

The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you

He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.

He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down. 

There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up

Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it

“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”

“I get WHAT”

Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold

He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so. 

Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.

Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal. 

He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”

Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”

If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”

“...”

“...”

“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”

he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please

[nicoleheichou]

Suna holds the door open for you and your jaw drops. It looks so beautiful and gives off such a calming vibe. You can't help but be astonished by the flowers hanging from the ceiling. Where they real? They can't be real, but they sure look it...or maybe they were? You noticed Suna giving you a confused look which helped bring you back to where you were. You took in every inch of the place, it's certainly different from any restaurant he's taken you to. "Where did you find this place love?" You question as the hostess seats the both of you.

"I asked Osamu. He knows a lot of restaurants, said that this was one of the better date restaurants." You make a mental note to thank that man or maybe even bake him some cookies, he knew exactly what you'd like. You go over the menu and instantly know what you want. "Did you already decide, doll?" He questions while placing his menu down and looking at you with a smirk.

A grin appears on your face, one look at you and he already knows what you're thinking. You've played this game multiple times on your dates. Motioning for you to lean in, he flips through the menu before pointing at a dish. "Let me guess, you want this." You can't help but chuckle at how well he knows you, the way you're both so in sync with each other that you can just give him a look and he'll know. You also can't help but compare the different approaches Atsumu and Suna take with you when it comes to ordering your food. But you can't help but feel a bit guilty for thinking of another man when you're on a date with your boyfriend.

Your eyes light up as soon as your meal is placed in front of you, looking even better than the picture on the menu. "Take your time doll, it's not going anywhere." Suna teases while taking a bite of his meal. You eat in silence for a bit, just enjoying the flavors and the company, that is...until Suna offers you a taste of his food. "Oh that's so good!" You take a spoonful of yours and offer it to him too. "Yours is pretty good too, it's probably one of the better versions we've tried." You go on for a few more minutes talking about the tastes, textures, etc.

"So how was lunch with Atsumu?" For a split second you tense at the question, before regaining your composure. How was it? You had pushed it to the back of your mind, not wanting to remember the question he asked you earlier. You were hoping that if you didn't think about it, you wouldn't feel guilty for not denying him. "Mmm...it was good." You say while taking another bite of your food, hoping he'd get the hint that you didn't want to talk about the subject anymore.

Suna notices the way your demeanor changes to his question, so he decides not to push it, not wanting to upset you more than you already were. At least, not until you were both home. The rest of the time goes by in silence, every now and then Suna would try to fill that silence by asking you a question, which you would try your best to give him more than one word answers but your mind was elsewhere now, thinking about how you didn't tell the setter no, and why you couldn't bring yourself to answer him.

Now All I See Is Color - chapter 40: how was lunch?

♡ masterlist ♡ 《 previous | next 》

In a world where soulmates exist, it's uncommon for most people to find theirs. A lot of them going their whole lives never experiencing the world in color because they've never met their soulmate. But that all changes for y/n when she becomes MSBY Jackals player, Miya Atsumu's assistant. They're about to experience the world in color together. But what does that mean for y/n when both her and Atsumu are in committed relationships?

pls. you guys are so sweet! the way i write the characters are how i hc them to actually be. i know a lot of people write tsum as a douche or just a little too much lol but I really picture him being soft especially towards y/n. like his annoying side comes out on the court because he thinks he can intimidate his opponents 🙄 but really he's a total sweetie.

i know y'all begged me to not hurt rin too much for tsum's route but i imagined how it would happen last night and i want all of us to be crying so imma try to do just that. lol.

comment or message if you want to be added to the taglist!

and i see more people finding this and binging it and it makes me happy. i like seeing what chapter you're on after every like. 😂

Taglist [open]: @bakugouswh0r3 @youidiot91 @koffyee @kyomihann @szeonn @chantalkate16 @onlyonew @ntimacy @underratedmage @90s-belladonna @simpletype @toshikamo @todomaniac @sumebreaks @sammistry @pansexualproblemchild @kozuelle @roselleviennesstuff @erensnubs @fantasycantasy @choozari @starsabove-me @halesandy @encrytpta @youraggedybitch @pablopascal @qualitygiantshoepsychic @iheartkuroorin @curiouslilbeast @cannibalcuriosity @fandomsgotmefucked @xhyunjinbbyx @grassbutneo @therealpussybangs @kleesboom @angelxsage @tetsuhoes @haikoochi @erinoikawa @starglow-xx

* if your name is in bold i can't tag you, please check your settings!

[depressedacadamia]

Lightweight

Summary: Will Solace can’t realy hold his alcohol but Nico doesn’t really mind.

A/N: 2 fics in one week? Oh my gods, who is this writer and what have they done with Persephone? Enjoyy yall- I really enjoyed writing this one!  

Read on A03

“Hands off sunshine!” Nico warned as he held the bottle of vodka above his head, his arms outstretched.

“Give meee!” Will cried, his hand sloppily hitting Nico’s arm. The summer air was warm and Nico could feel the thin layer of sweat on his forehead- considering he had to stay in his tiptoes to hold the bottle above Will.

“Will, you didn’t even drink that much! How are you so drunk?”

“You don’t love me! Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you, ya little drunk shithead. You are totally wasted, no matter how many times you will doubt it,” Nico sighed, throwing Will’s arms over his shoulders in a vain attempt to carry him back to Cabin 7.

Will gave one long blink. Then another. “ Where are we going?”

“To your cabin. I’d shadow travel but I've seen a regular person’s reaction to that, I don’t want to see what chaos would come out of shadow travelling a hot drunken mess.”

“Did you just call me a mess?” Will pouted.

“Yes but I called you a hot mess. Focus on that part. It was mostly a compliment.”

“You’re sooo mean to meee. Do you even love me?”

“Yes I love you, stop being so heavy and carry your own legs please.” Nico shifted his back under the weight of his boyfriend's entire body and tried to manage a few steps- they would have been easy if his boyfriend wasn’t so damn fit and if he himself wasn’t slightly inebriated.

“Ni-” Will hiccuped. “-Co!”

“Yes?”

“Do you love me?”

Nico sighed again, slightly frustrated by the constant question. “Yes I love you, ask again and the answer may vary.”

“Phi Phi is so much nicer than you,” Will grumbled, his head leaning into the crook of Nico’s neck. Nico could smell the twinge of alcohol in Will’s breath along with the regular smell of the spearmint gum he would always be chewing.

“Phi Phi?” Nico snorted. “ Who in the name of God is that?”

“Your stepma! Phi Phi! She gave me so many nice flowers last time we visited!” Will paused before giving Nico an innocent look of disapproval. “ Do you not remember Phi Phii?”

Will accidentally dragged out the last ‘ee’ syllable in the word ‘phi phi’ making it sound like he was a 3 year old trying to read for the first time. Nico almost shivered at the mention of his stepmother; the last time he checked, she still had at least 157 variations of dandelions that she could turn him into the second he did anything going against her liking- afterall, she may have been the Goddess of the Spring but she was still the Queen of the Underworld.

“Yes, of course I remember Phi Phi.” He lowered his voice as he muttered the next few words under his breath to prevent them from being heard. “ How could I forget her and her stupid dandelions?”

“Phee Pheeee!”

“What about Phi Phi?”

Will paused for a few seconds. He tilted his head looking at Nico. “ Do you love me?”

Nico, awfully frustrated, decided to not answer the question honestly. “ No, I do not love you right now. Drunk you is a mess whom not only subject hops but also cannot walk coordinately.”

Nico did not think Will would take anything he said seriously but to his horror he was greatly mistaken. Will’s slow and steady breathing quickly became a rapid torrent of quick and unsteady breathing. Nico had thought that he was just mucking about but then he felt warm tears stain his shirt.

Tears streamed down Will’s flushed face, his freckles were almost invisible as the tears continued running down his face like a current. His chest racked with sobs and he pulled away from Nico and collapsed on the ground. He buried his head in his hands and let his heart beat harder with every cry that left his lips.

Nico watched, his mouth dropped. He had no idea what he had done or how to make it better. He reached out, trying to console the drunk and overly emotional Will but instead found himself feeling guilt beyond any he had ever felt before.

“Will?” He whispered. “ Will? You’re drunk. I was just joking, I didn’t mean anything I just said.”

Will's loud sobs started to slowly quieten down but the tears still freely ran across his face. He glanced upwards at Nico, his eyes rimmed red. His bottom lip wobbled and his eyes were wet.

“But.. but you said that you don’t love me…”

“I was joking. I was lying. I do love you. Only you.”

Nico plopped himself beside Will and shuffled himself closer, awkwardly. He tried to wrap one of his arms around Will but he found it to be too short and only barely touched Will’s other shoulder. So instead, he settled for rubbing soothing circles on Will’s back, calming him and forcing him to breathe slower.

“How do I know you are not lying to me now?” Will’s eyes were innocent and once again brimming with tears. “I always worry that you're just lying to me and then one day you’re going to just go poof and stupid me will be all sad.”

Nico thought he could feel his own eyes stinging- was this how Will really felt? Was Nico that bad a boyfriend that Will felt that every word, every kiss, every moment was a lie? Or did Will just consider himself so unloveable that every good thing that ever happened to him was just temporary or fake?

Nico glanced at the blonde eyelashes that were clad together with tears.

What happens inside that gorgeous head of yours, Solace?

“I love you William Andrew Solace. I choose you. You’re my significant other, significant annoyance- whatever you want to call it. And if I ever disappear, you’re sure as hell coming with me.”

Will wrapped his arms tightly and unexpectedly around Nico’s waist- causing Nico to be pushed onto his back while Will snuggled into his abdomen. Nico could feel his t-shirt stick to him due to the tears from Will’s face.

“I love you soooo much,” Will murmured into Nico’s stomach. Nico could feel his breathing hitch at the words. Nico kissed Will- light and innocent. That's what the kiss meant. He could taste the salty tears on Will’s lips and the bitter aftertaste of the vodka on his tongue. The kiss was quick, chaste and it may have not satisfied Will’s desire but it made him feel safe.

And to both of them, that’s all that mattered.

Will awoke the next morning with several life regrets but none as strong as the stupid amount of alcohol he had decided to consume the previous day or night. He could barely remember anything- let alone figure out where in the name of Zeus he was. The cabin seemed dreary but at the same time it was beautiful. It was dark and light and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

Wait. What Cabin was this? Whose Cabin was this? He didn’t think there was any Cabin that was so roomy with such a lack of accommodation. He almost felt like he was in a Cabin for a child of the Big Three- He remembered the one time he had taken a glimpse of the Poseidon Cabin and he remembered it to be huge- something he deeply envied Percy for.

It was only until Will noticed the black clad figure kneeling beside him that he realised where exactly he was. Beautifully tousled hair, gorgeous lips and eyes that one could get lost in forever- he only knew one person with features so defining. The question was, what on earth was he doing in Cabin 13?

Cabin 13- His boyfriend's cabin. Immediately, Will scrambled upwards. He looked Nico straight in the eye and tried to recall to what extent he embarrassed himself as a drunken idiot last night.

“How bad was it?”

“Shall I sugar coat it or give it to you straight?”

Will managed to squeak out, “Give it to me straight.”

“You tried to get into my pants and talked about how hot you thought I was.” Nico shrugged nonchalantly.

Will blanched and he immediately wished that had asked for the sugar coated version. He heard Nico laughing and he could feel his nerves both calm down and panic at the same time. Nico’s laugh was calming and beautiful and warm and made him feel all fuzzy like he was under a fluffy blanket. But he worried for what reason Nico was laughing.

“Calm down sunshine. I was joking- you should have known that I wouldn’t have been able to give it to you straight. You just asked dumb questions and cried a bit.”

“I cried?”

“It’s not a big deal.” Nico batted his hand. Will collapsed back onto the bed with an ‘ow’ and groaned something unintelligible about it being ‘too early in the morning for this’.

“It’s actually 1 in the afternoon but to each their own I guess.”

Will wanted to shout WHAT but he did not want to rack his head with an already painful headache so he instead settled for dropping his jaw.

“Close your mouth sunshine unless you plan on using it,” Nico mumbled. Will felt his jaw drop further before he snapped it back and swore internally. He made a mental note to never have a hangover near Nico because he would use it to his advantage.

“So why exactly did I cry yesterday?” Will asked as he sipped from the glass of water that had been placed at the bedside by, he could only assume, Nico. Will noticed that when asked that question, Nico tensed, his hands digging slightly into his jeans.

The corner of Will’s lips tilted upwards. “ What did you say?”

“What makes you think I said anything? Drunk you is a crybaby and you know it,” Nico huffed defensively, refusing to meet Will's eye.

“Yeah but you’re acting guilty.”

“What if I killed some boring skeleton zombie this morning and I’m only now mourning their already dead body?”

“Spare me the dark and frankly dry humour,” Will deadpanned, excited to hear the cause of his outburst yesterday.

Nico mumbled something under his breath, all while looking away from Will.

“What?”

“I said,'' Nico took a deep breath. “That I didn't love you-”

“-What?”

“But it was a joke!”

Will could feel his stomach churning and he couldn't tell if it was from the hangover or the current situation. He managed to resist a gag. “How is that a joke?”

Will’s voice was so hoarse and weak, Nico thought that he was going to break into tears all over again and he knew that if that happened, he would end up with tears flooding his own face.

“It’s because, well, drunk you kept on asking Do you love me and of course I do but drunk you is just so heavy and you kept on asking and so I of course gave a sarcastic quip and you just burst into tears and..”

Will stared at Nico and for a second, Nico was terrified that he had really blown it.He watched as his boyfriend buried his face into his hands and began shaking. His back was shivering and Nico could hear little whimpers.

“Fuck.” Nico had subconsciously let the profanity pass through his lips.

Will, suddenly, threw his head back and his laugh echoed around the empty Cabin 13. Nico felt stuned. Was he laughing in rage? Should he run?

“Will. I am so so sorry. I swear, it was a joke. I love you, I chose you William Andrew Solace. I’ll do it again and again.”

“You,” Will wheezed. “ Idiot! Did you really get so worked up over drunk me being dramatic? I was being hyperbolic!”

Nico tilted his head ever so slightly but his ravenous locks still fell over his eyes however he didn’t seem to mind as he made no effort to move it from his sight.

“So… you aren’t mad?”

“I mean I won’t reject any special treatment if you were thinking of offering as a way of showing your sorrow,” Will teased.

“Shut it.” Nico pouted. “ Do I not get a dramatic love confession? I gave you two.”

Will raised his eyebrow and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. “ If I can count correctly, and I can, I only recall one dramatic love confession.”

“You were too drunk to remember the first one.”

Will let out a groan before softly smiling.”I love you. I choose you, Nicolo Di Angelo.”

“Don’t call me Nicolo!”

[hacked-by-jake]

Hbj, first of all I hope you have a great day. The theories about Jake using the character, it's making me crack my head, I've always been suspicious of the fact that he has such a quick love interest in MC, I don't see the point in him trusting and liking lovingly so fast in someone he doesn't know, whenever things get tough, he loves to say sweet things to calm down.

I love Jake, but of all the questions he can ask a stranger he decides to ask if MC has a boyfriend? It's like he wants to make sure he can use this method and after episode 8 when we decided to tell how we felt about what happened with Richy, I found him so cold in his responses, trying to treat the situation as unimportant and that bad things happen and when he saw that he was not convinced, he started to say beautiful things, I found it strange that he thought about giving up his sister for a complete stranger, because that's what we are, we don't know Jake and neither does he know us.

Despite all the theories, I know that when I talk to Jake again I'm going to trust him completely, after all they are theories, but the signs are there.

(If Jake is manipulating MC I will cry for days)

Hey, dear Anon! <3

Thank you very much! I also hope that you have a nice day/evening/night. <3

Well, first of all, even though the topic hurts a little, just like with you, but I love talking about it.

And I apologize in advance that the answer has become so long. I didn't expect that myself. xD

I fully understand your thoughts about this, and I’m also afraid that Jake is just taking advantage of us. I try to be as neutral as possible, so as not to be completely biased.

Okay, so I can say for myself, and for many others, that we’re actually the same on that point with Jake. We also trust him incredibly fast although he is anything but trustworthy at the beginning.

You know, I think the relationship between MC and Jake is a little bit based on soul mates. That it’s not a coincidence that we get to know him and that we get along so quickly.

We write more with Jake than with the other characters with whom we can enter into a closer relationship. For example, Richy, even when you flirt with Richy, it goes very fast to the point where you can get closer to him.

I think in some ways this "everything goes fast" is also simply because of the way the game works. I mean, we can’t take so much time to get to know everybody.

We immediately talk to all the characters, and directly a lot. If it would take longer in the game, it would be strange firstly because of Hannah, because she would be kidnapped much longer, and secondly, there would be a lot of tension missing. At least I think so.

You know, I think he’s asking MC if we have a boyfriend, actually, is more of a sign that he’s really interested. I don’t consider Jake to be someone who gets closer to someone when the person is already in a relationship. I think he really wanted to know. Because if he did all this just to make us trust him, he might not care if MC is in a relationship or not.

As we can notice, Jake has a hard time getting social contacts, having a hard time with things like smalltalk, etc. he tells us (we can ask him that, but I think only in the premium version) that he is and always was alone. (I can’t remember his exact wording.) And later he tells us that Hannah and Lilly are the only family he has left.

I think MC has just been the first person to really care about him for a long time, asking him more private questions. Directly during our second conversation with him, we can talk to him about the desert island, and ask him, for example, which programs he uses to hack.

I think, as he says himself, we immediately had a good relationship with each other. And if he’s been alone for a long time, and then someone like MC comes and pays attention to his personality, and not just superficially, he enjoys it.

We have not been deterred by him and his performances, and have treated him as a normal person. Not, for example, like the government that sees him as a criminal, but we know he’s a hacker, but we don’t let that put us off.

In episode 8, when Lilly criticizes us for really trusting him, we can say that we had no choice. We had to trust him, to help Hannah.

And so it was for him with MC. He was just trying to save his sister who was kidnapped in front of him. And all of a sudden, our number comes from Hannah. He had as few options as we had. He’s just trying to find his sister, so he has to trust the person whose number seems to have something to do with it.

Moreover, we are all in a dark time. A kidnapper and murderer who kidnapped one person, murdered one person, and maybe even a second one, Richy.

Everything is always under stress and we are working hard to find and save Hannah. Stress, grief and worry. When two people like MC and Jake meet and have to work so closely together, then a little distraction is really good. Or being drawn closer to someone when you’re desperate.

And then he writes a pretty agitated message, I don’t know if you ever chose this option, I can recommend it to you.

I think we can see how Jake really is when we talk to him about that Hannah might have done something to herself.

Jake says, "But if you think she might have done something to herself, that’s out of the question."

We can then say it’s okay, and we’ll continue to talk to him. However, we can continue to talk about it and tell him, for example, that we should not exclude anything. He’s still stubborn, and we can tell him, "Why are you so stubborn?"

(well, unfortunately I can’t find the screenshot of this place and I can’t remember his exact wording)

However, he sounds so desperate and worried and it also sounds a bit like a reproach, so that he even apologizes afterwards and says that he did not want us to feel bad about him.

(Maybe there is someone here who has selected it and has a screenshot of it)

Yes, unfortunately Jake, in episode 8 when we talk about Richy, sounds and is very cold and emotionless. I think it’s just hard for him to understand how it felt. And "unfortunately" he is more focused on finding Hannah that is one of the only things that interest him.

I think Jake is also kind of blaming himself for not being able to help Hannah faster.

As we also know from episode 8, Hannah had sent him an email. However, this address was no longer active, and he only saw it when it was actually too late. He called her right away, but if he’d seen the message sooner, that might never have happened. Of course, it’s not his fault, but that’s how we humans are. And I think it’s the same with him.

If he feels guilty, I can understand that he wants to help so badly. He probably blames himself for breaking off contact with her at the time. That he didn’t dare tell his sister he is her brother.

Maybe then everything would have been different, and Hannah wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.

I think he was thinking of giving up on Hannah and running away with MC because it was stressful for him, too. He also suffers from the situation, but does not admit it to himself.

As he says himself, he tries to look at everything as objectively as possible, so he ignores what happened to Jessy and Richy. Because I think he’s also hiding his own feelings.

And in between, we can see him from the emotional side. Only rarely, but sometimes it happens.

And right now he realizes that for some time it would be easier to disappear with MC and turn your back on everything. Since the situation also burdens him, it is quite normal to think about choosing the easier way, which would also make him feel better.

But, as he also says, this would bring nothing. The responsibility would catch up with us and we would live forever with the guilt of just letting Hannah down.

And last but not least: the topic of manipulation.

And yes, that’s exactly what Jake is doing with us, manipulating us by using our feelings for him, and calming us down by telling us nice things.

Best we see this in episode 7. After his pursuers tried to hack us. Although he used this method before, manipulated us, but in episode 7 it is the most extreme to see.

However, I have to say that we are doing the same thing with him. We’re doing the same thing.

And best we see that, in episode 8.

When we tell him that the others want to see what we have for clues, etc., and the others want him to come into the group.

We know for a fact that Jake isn’t thrilled. But we get him to decide against it by saying, "I can’t do this without you."

And that’s actually also a point that shows me that Jake really likes us, he gives in and accepts the situation after we tell him that.

And that’s exactly what happens when we ask him to write the letter to Ted with Lilly, where we can tell him that we’d like him to be there. And from that moment, Jake says yes.

If he really didn’t want it, or he didn’t care that we told him we couldn’t do it without us, he wouldn’t give in.

He would just keep saying that he doesn’t want to and he doesn’t want to talk to us about it.

We wouldn’t even have time to contradict him, or just tell the others everything, since he could have erased any evidence from our phone.

He lets us manipulate him as much as he manipulate us.

And he writes when he joins the group chat that he wants to change his mind to tell the others everything, because of us.

And even the others realize that Jake likes us.

Lilly, for example, says (when we talk to her in episode 6) that he interrupted the vote, that his reaction wasn’t normal just because he cared about the subject. He’s very biased, not just because we’re important to him to save Hannah. It’s because we were treated unfairly by Lilly and the others.

Jessy says to Phil that there’s someone who likes us, but she doesn’t know if we’re reciprocating his feelings.

I don’t think I need to say anything about Dan, do I?

Jake and MC are not as inconspicuous together as the two think themselves.

I think I’ve addressed the most important things now, so I want to say an end conclusion: I really believe that Jake likes us and not just manipulates us. I really think he wants to get closer to us.

I’m not a psychologist or anything, of course, but I think Jake has some psychological problems that he might even know himself. Many things are difficult for him and I can often identify with him on this point.

His actions and manner are not always the right ways, sometimes he does not know how to behave and what is okay and what is not. We can see it with Jessy and Richy.

With us, he tries to show empathy and support us, which is why he wants us to rest a little afterwards.

Jake doesn’t seem to have had an easy life, and of course that leaves its mark. I don’t think he’s that cold sometimes because he means it badly.

I know we haven’t known him for long, but this whole situation is so special that it’s not surprising that MC and Jake get along so well and get closer.

Of course I can’t say exactly, maybe it’s really all just played by him, that we will only see at the end, but I don’t think that everything is fake.

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And of course, thank you very much for sharing your thoughts and theories with us. As you can see, I had a lot to say and really enjoyed answering that, and I hope I could help you a little bit.

So, I hope that I have not forgotten anything important now and that I have taken up everything I wanted to and can say. 😅

As I said, I don’t know everything myself, and this is just my opinion. I hope I’ve managed not to be so biased.

Take care of yourself and stay healthy, lovely Anon!💚🎭🌹