#lamppost behavior

[morporkian-cryptid]

I have just rewatched "The Imperial City Dreams Of Thieves" (yes it's the fourth time. yes I'm aware that I may have a problem.) and it still cracks me up that, not only did Goemon immediately attempt to throw hands when he saw a guy who may or may not be Lupin - dude saw the slightest opportunity to try to skewer his boyfriend without consequences and he very literally JUMPED on it - not only that, but he CONTINUED to try to turn Lupin into human sashimi EVEN AFTER KNOWING THAT LUPIN WAS THE ONLY REAL ONE THERE. Lupin had already mentioned Goemon's missing Zantetsuken and thus proven that he couldn't be part of the computer simulation, and STILL Goemon tried to stab him with a broken sword. He didn't even have any particular beef with Lupin at the moment, Hell! for all we know they were on a romantic robbing-a-secret-lab date when they got yeeted into the simulation. No, he just decided to cut his boyfriend to bits for funsies. This man is completely unhinged, I stan him so hard.

Babygirl there is something deeply wrong with you 💕

[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet - Part Two

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant f!Reader

Themes/Warnings: Y/N in labor. Childbirth but NOT detailed, more focused on Bucky's presence and what he's doing.

Summary: How has a small bet lead to this? Y/N goes into labor and Bucky does everything he can to be as supportive as he could.

A/N: For those who asked for Part Two, this is for you ^_^ I hope it lived up to the expectations. . . I took inspiration from my own experience so yeah.

taggies: @rcarbo1 @ozwriterchick @mrsnikstan @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

You roll your eyes as Bucky keeps a skeptical gaze on you, watching you step up and down on the curb for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Doll, you’ve been at this for days. I’m starting to think this kid’s staging a sit-in,” he teases, leaning against the lamppost, arms crossed.

“Well, she’s not paying rent, so she doesn’t get to stay. Curb walking is happening whether she likes it or not,” you snap back, determination lacing your tone as you continue stepping. But deep down, you’re tired, exhausted from trying to nudge your body into labor.

Bucky grins, but he still offers you a hand as you make your way back toward the house. “I’m just saying, if I see you out here tomorrow morning, I’m calling the National Guard.”

You elbow him lightly. “Very funny, Buck. This baby’s coming today. I can feel it.”

When you both step inside the house, Alpine is on you immediately, practically glued to your legs, rubbing her soft, fluffy body against your ankles more persistently than usual. You frown, looking down at her.

“What’s with you today, girl?” you ask, gently shooing her away with your foot. But instead of backing off like she normally does, Alpine meows loudly and circles you again, her tail brushing against your legs.

“Hey, come on. What’s going on with you?” you murmur, reaching down to pet her. But Alpine’s not interested in affection—at least, not her usual kind. She rubs harder against you, weaving in and out between your legs, forcing you to shuffle to avoid tripping.

“Bucky, I think Alpine’s lost it,” you call out, trying to step away from her. But she follows, her constant meowing beginning to sound like scolding. You can’t help but feel like she’s trying to tell you something.

Bucky, in the kitchen, is half-hidden in the fridge, rummaging around for something. “Maybe she’s just mad you’re about to replace her as the center of attention,” he quips, not looking up from his snack hunt.

“Yeah, well, she can wait her turn,” you mutter, trying to step around Alpine. But the cat is relentless. She rubs against your legs even harder, circling you tighter, her meows getting louder. You try to move, but she darts in front of you, making you stumble.

“Seriously, Alpine, what is going on?” you huff, trying to sidestep her again, but it’s no use. She’s practically glued to you, brushing her entire body against you, her eyes wide and focused as she continues her odd dance around your feet. You glance at Bucky, now distracted by Alpine’s odd behavior.

Bucky looks up, finally noticing how insistent the cat is. “You think she knows something we don’t?” he asks, his tone shifting from playful to curious. “Animals have instincts about this kind of stuff, right?”

Before you can respond, Alpine meows again, louder this time, and you feel a sudden, sharp tightening in your belly. You stop in your tracks, your hands immediately going to your abdomen as the pain intensifies.

“Ooo, ow!” you gasp, bending over slightly as the contraction tightens your entire stomach. “Bucky!”

Bucky’s head shoots up from the fridge like a missile, his eyes wide. “What?! What happened? Are you okay?!” he blurts, slamming the fridge door shut. He’s by your side in seconds, almost slipping in his haste. “Is it time? It’s time, isn’t it?! Oh god, okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe.”

You clutch the edge of the counter, nodding through the pain. “I think… I think it’s happening.”

Alpine, still rubbing against you, lets out another loud meow, as if confirming your suspicion. You glance down at her, and for a moment, it’s as if the cat knows exactly what’s going on. She gives a final rub against your legs before darting out of the way, clearing the space for Bucky to swoop in.

Bucky’s eyes go even wider. 

“Okay, okay, uh—hospital. We need to call the hospital.” He pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with the screen. He stabs at the screen with his thumb, almost dropping it in the process. “Where’s the number? Why don’t I have the number saved?!” he mutters to himself, glancing at you for reassurance as the line finally connects.

He paces as he talks to the hospital, his free hand anxiously running through his hair. “Yeah, hi, it’s… Y/N? Y/N Barnes? um, it’s happening. She’s in labor. What do we—what do I do? No, we’re at home, but we’re coming in—should we come in now? Or…? Okay. Okay, got it, yeah, we’ll head there in… five minutes? Yeah, five. Thanks.”

He hangs up, looking like he’s just run a marathon. “They said we can wait a bit until it gets stronger, but we can go now if you want. What do you wanna do?”

Before you can answer, another wave of pain washes over you, and you double over again, gripping the counter tighter. Alpine meows and brushes against your legs again as if trying to comfort you, her tail swishing with determination.

Bucky glances at Alpine, then back at you. 

“Okay, bath! I’ll run you a warm bath. That’s what they said, right? Warm bath to relax? Just—stay right here, doll. I’ll handle this.” He bolts off toward the bathroom, slipping slightly but catching himself at the last second.

You hear him turning on the water, his voice slightly frantic. “Warm bath, warm bath. I can do this. Where are the towels? Of course, we have towels. Focus, Bucky. Towels, water, perfect.”

You chuckle softly, despite the growing discomfort, glancing down at Alpine, who is now sitting by your feet, watching you intently with those big, bright eyes. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” you mutter, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She purrs loudly, as if proud of herself.

A moment later, Bucky’s back, nearly tripping over Alpine as he rushes to your side. “Okay, bath’s ready. Nice and warm. Let’s get you in there before another one hits,” he says, gently taking your arm and guiding you toward the bathroom.

Alpine follows behind, meowing in approval as Bucky helps you into the tub. The warm water does wonders to ease the tension, but the contractions are still coming, and you know it won’t be long.

Bucky kneels beside the tub, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and panic. “You okay? Should I call someone? Maybe I should recheck the bags. Oh, and snacks—I need to grab snacks.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You and your snacks, Bucky. We’ll be fine.”

Alpine, still close by, gives one final approving meow before curling up on the bathroom mat, keeping a watchful eye on both of you.

× × × × 

The car ride to the hospital was a blur—Bucky, in full mission mode, had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping yours as you breathed through each contraction. Every time you winced, his brow furrowed deeper, a mix of panic and determination on his face. Even as you swatted him away, insisting you didn’t need him hovering, he stayed glued to your side.

By the time you arrived at the hospital, Bucky had already called ahead, barking orders like he was leading a rescue mission. He parked the car, rushed around to your side, and had you in his arms before you could argue. 

“No hero moves, Buck, I can walk,” you huffed, trying to push through another contraction, but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Not a chance. Just let me handle this, doll. I got you,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice cutting through the pain.

Inside the hospital, Bucky was glued to you—holding your hand, rubbing your back, scratching your head soothingly, offering water. Every contraction, every wince, he was there, wide-eyed, on alert. He spoke to the doctors, double-checked every word they said, like he was memorising their instructions for later. He wouldn’t even blink unless he was sure you were okay.

“Bucky, I’m fine. You need to relax,” you grumbled between deep breaths, squeezing his hand through another wave of pain.

“I’m relaxed! This is me, relaxed!” he responded, his voice a little too high to be convincing. He had one hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as if he could somehow ease the pain just by being there.

When another particularly strong contraction hit, making you groan in agony, Bucky’s face crumpled. He looked like he was ready to jump in and fight the pain for you only if he could. 

"You're sure you don't want the epidural?" he asked, glancing at you as another contraction hit, his face creased with concern. You could see the tension in his jaw, his helplessness in not being able to take the pain from you. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

“No. I am doing this my way, okay?!” You shook your head, gripping his hand as the pain intensified, your voice coming out in a growl. 

He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, no epidural. Got it. But if you change your mind, I can threaten someone. I can be very convincing."

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile through gritted teeth. “Pretty sure the nurses don’t need to see the Winter Soldier just because I’m in labor.”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Oh, come on. It’d make for a great story. I could throw my arm around, scare a few people… you know, just your typical Tuesday.”

Hours passed, and Bucky hadn’t moved from your side. He wouldn’t sit, wouldn’t close his eyes, despite you insisting—between contractions—that he at least take a nap. 

“You’re gonna fall over if you don’t get some rest,” you grumbled, squeezing his hand through another wave.

“Fall over? Pfft, I don’t need sleep. I’m like a machine.” He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. But every time you winced, his whole body tensed, as if he could feel the pain with you. “You, on the other hand, are doing amazing. I mean, you’re practically doing this like a walk in the park. The park of… childbirth.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, resting your head back against the pillow. “That was terrible, Buck.”

He smiled wider. 

“Was it? C’mon, don’t lie to me. You were laughing inside.” He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “I’m not leaving you.”

He looks at you with such fierce determination that you know there’s no convincing him otherwise. 

“Besides, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. What if you need something? Or what if you crack and ask for that epidural?” He smirks, trying to lighten the mood.

You roll your eyes at him, wincing as another contraction comes. Bucky’s immediately there, squeezing your hand, pressing his forehead to yours as you breathe together.

“I’m serious,” you mutter when the pain subsides, “you need sleep.”

Bucky grins, though his eyes are soft with affection. “Sleep? Who needs sleep? I’m living on love right now, doll. And adrenaline.” He winks at you, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Who’s gonna be here to remind you how much of a badass you are?”

Despite the pain, you can’t help but laugh a little, which makes him smile even wider. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“You know, this is probably a good time to tell you that you’re way stronger than me. I’d probably be begging for the epidural by now. And ice cream. Definitely ice cream.”

You snort, trying not to laugh too hard as another contraction builds. “Yeah, and I’d let you have the epidural just to shut you up.”

Bucky chuckles, but his smile fades as he watches you breathe through the pain again, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

He’s quiet for a moment, then softly whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You look up at him through heavy breaths, your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the world. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hand, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re doing so good, doll. I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

When the contraction finally passed, you slumped back, exhausted. Bucky’s fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead, his touch light as a feather. 

“You want some ice chips? You want me to grab the doc again? Steal you another pillow? You name it, babe, and I’ll make it happen.”

Another contraction hit, and you groaned in pain, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him wince. But instead of complaining, he leaned down close, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, “you’ve got the strength of ten supersoldiers right now. You could probably take me down with just one hand. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help but snort through the pain, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the overwhelming sensation. “That’s… your idea of sexy?” you panted, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Hey, I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” he teased, winking at you in that playful Bucky way, trying to distract you from the pain. “And you, sweetheart, are the strongest woman I know.”

Even though the pain was still there, the tension in your shoulders eased just a little.

“See, that’s what I’m here for,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand as another contraction started building. “You focus on bringing our kid into the world, and I’ll keep trying to distract you with terrible jokes and my rugged good looks.”

“You’re lucky… I love you…” you muttered through the next wave of pain.

By the time the contractions were coming faster and more intense, Bucky was still right there, leaning close, murmuring encouragements. His fingers intertwined with yours, his other hand brushing through your hair as you worked through the pain. 

“You’re doing amazing, doll. We’re almost there. I’m right here.”

He didn’t sleep, didn’t sit, not even when you begged him to rest. His only focus was you, and every time your face twisted in pain, his own features mirrored it. But somehow, even in the toughest moments, he kept trying to make you smile, whispering about baby names, promising to make up for every second of pain with the biggest, most elaborate breakfast you could dream of. 

“We’ll get pancakes. Or waffles. Or pancakes and waffles. With ice cream. I’ll even eat kale if it’ll make you happy.”

When the doctor told you it was time, Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, you expected to see that familiar flicker of panic in his eyes. But it never came. Somehow, in the face of what was about to happen, Bucky remained steady, his expression calm and resolute. He didn’t waver. His focus was entirely on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes as you gathered the last of your strength.

The room bustled around you—nurses preparing, the doctor giving instructions—but it all seemed distant. The only thing grounding you was Bucky. His eyes never left yours, a silent strength radiating from him, as though he were willing to carry you through the final stretch. Every time the pressure built, every time the exhaustion weighed on you, Bucky was there, his presence unfazed, holding you steady as the moment grew closer.

Even as the intensity of labor reached its peak, he didn’t flinch. Not once. His grip remained firm but gentle, anchoring you in the chaos, his face composed, his breathing in sync with yours. He was there, unwavering, a rock against the storm. The room could’ve been crumbling around you, and Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.

His whole world was you.

Then, when the cry filled the room—the unmistakable sound of your baby’s first breath—it hit him like a tidal wave.

They placed her on your chest, and for a second, Bucky was still. He was looking at her—his daughter—for the very first time. His mouth opened slightly, and you saw his eyes widen in awe. His tough exterior began to crack, the strong front he had maintained throughout crumbling under the sheer weight of the moment.

Suddenly, Bucky turned away, almost abruptly, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Ugly crying. His hand left yours for the first time as he tried to rub the tears away, his back to you as he choked on his emotions. But he wasn’t fooling anyone. You could hear the soft sniffles as he struggled to pull himself together.

It only lasted a moment before he spun back around, tears still streaming down his face, though he tried—so hard—to stop them. The sight of him, attempting to be tough through the tears, was endearing and, in its own way, a little bit funny. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched as he looked at the baby resting on your chest.

He tried to smile through the sobs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but every time he looked at her—tiny, perfect, and so much a part of both of you—the tears came again, harder this time. He was completely undone, staring at his daughter with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was here, real, and his.

And though Bucky was crying harder than ever, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears mingling with yours, both of you laughing at the raw, overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He was a mess, but a happy mess—ugly crying through the most beautiful moment of your lives. And, despite it all, he never let go of your hand.

× × × × 

When you and Bucky finally stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your place welcomed you back. It was strange being home with Julianna now, like the world had shifted but stayed the same. You glanced at Bucky, who was carrying the capsule carefully, his expression softer than usual.

Alpine was the first to greet you. As soon as the door opened, she trotted over, her tail swishing with curiosity. She stopped at your feet, looking up at both of you expectantly, as if asking, “So, what did you bring back?”

Bucky set the capsule down gently on the floor, his movements slow and careful.

“Look who’s here, Alpine,” he said, glancing down at the cat with a smile tugging at his lips. “We brought someone new.”

Alpine inched closer, her nose twitching as she inspected the carrier with cautious curiosity. Bucky crouched beside the capsule, lifting the cover slightly so the cat could get a closer look. Julianna stirred inside, her tiny face peaceful, nestled in blankets.

Alpine took a few tentative steps forward, her nose brushing against the edge of the blanket. She sniffed softly, clearly curious but cautious, still unsure about what exactly this new little human was.

Bucky smiled, watching Alpine for a moment before reaching down and gently lifting Julianna out of the capsule. He cradled her carefully in his arms, glancing at you for reassurance before holding her closer to Alpine.

“Come on, girl, get a good sniff. She’s your new sister.”

Alpine paused, her eyes wide as she leaned in to sniff Julianna’s soft, downy head. The cat's whiskers twitched, her nose brushing against the baby’s tiny forehead as she took in the new scent. Julianna stirred slightly, but her eyes stayed closed, her peaceful expression unchanged.

After a long, curious sniff, Alpine let out a soft, sweet meow as if giving her approval. Then, to your surprise, she rubbed herself affectionately against Bucky’s legs, purring gently, as if acknowledging that her place in the family was safe.

You watched the whole interaction, a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something sweetly funny about seeing this big, tough Bucky Barnes gingerly presenting his newborn daughter to a cat, as if it were some kind of sacred introduction.

Bucky chuckled, glancing down at Alpine as she rubbed against him again, her purring growing louder. “Looks like she approves of you too, kid,” he murmured to Julianna.

Satisfied with her inspection, Alpine backed up a few steps, her tail swishing lazily. She sat down nearby, watching with half-lidded eyes as if content that all was well in her world.

Bucky stood up carefully, cradling Julianna in his arms and grinning at you. “Looks like she passed the test,” he said, his voice soft, but with that usual Bucky charm. He glanced down at the baby, his eyes softening even more.

“Welcome home, Jules.”

× × × ×

Bonus scene: Flashback - A few months earlier…

You were lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Bucky’s lap as he absentmindedly massaged your ankles. A notebook was open on the coffee table in front of you, filled with scribbles of baby names. None of them felt right so far, and you were both at your wits’ end.

“Alright,” Bucky said, tapping his fingers on your leg, “we gotta figure this out. This kid’s gonna be here soon, and we can’t just call them ‘Hey, you.’” He gave you a crooked smile, but you could tell he was dead serious about the baby name situation.

You sighed, flipping through the pages of the notebook. “I know, but nothing seems to fit. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Bucky looked up thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. “How about... Buck Jr.?”

You stared at him for a solid second, deadpan. “Buck Jr.? Really? What if it’s a girl?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Then... Buckletta.”

You burst out laughing, nearly kicking him in the stomach with the way your feet jerked. “Buckletta? Are you serious?”

Bucky shrugged with a smug grin. “Hey, it’s versatile. Buck Jr. for a boy, Buckletta for a girl. Easy.”

“I am not naming our child Buckletta!” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. “That sounds like a medieval torture device.”

Bucky smirked, leaning back on the couch. “Fine, fine. What about something... strong? Like, you know, a name that’s got some weight to it.”

“Okay, hit me with it,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

“Rock,” he said with confidence.

“Rock?” You blinked, wondering if he was messing with you, "Already with the Dad jokes?"

“Yeah! Think about it. No one’s gonna mess with a kid named Rock Barnes,” Bucky explained, grinning as if he had just come up with the best name in history. “It’s tough. It’s solid.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “We are not naming our baby after an inanimate object!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? But you like Ruby.”

“Ruby’s a gemstone, Bucky. It’s different,” you argued, trying to hold back a laugh.

He finally laughed along with you, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! I'll stop. But we still need a real one, so...” He grabbed his phone back from you, scrolling through the list with a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Okay, let’s see... Princess Consuela Bananahammock?”

You smacked his arm, laughing again. “Are you picking names from Friends now?”

Shaking your head, you leaned over and grabbed the notebook, flipping to a clean page. “Okay, how about something more traditional? Like... Hazel for a girl?”

Bucky paused, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. “Hazel? I like that. It’s... nice.” He nodded thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea.

“Yeah?” you smiled, glad that you’d finally stumbled onto something that wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“Yeah, Hazel’s good. But what about a boy’s name?” Bucky asked, shifting to a more serious tone.

You thought for a moment.

“What about James?” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.

He immediately shook his head. “No way. Too many bad memories tied to that name.”

You frowned, understanding. “Alright, then something classic but strong... like Julian?”

Bucky tilted his head, considering it. “Julian’s not bad. Strong, but not too over the top. I could see that.”

“And it works for a girl, too. Julianna,” you added with a smile.

Bucky’s face lit up. “Julianna Hazel Barnes.” He let the name roll off his tongue, testing it out. “That actually sounds really nice.”

You grinned, feeling like you were getting somewhere. “Right? It’s got a good flow.”

He nodded, then leaned back against the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But seriously, you’re sure we’re ruling out Buckletta?”

You threw a pillow at his head, laughing. “Absolutely. 100% no to Buckletta.”

Bucky caught the pillow and chuckled. “Okay, okay, no Buckletta. But just so you know, if we ever get another cat, I’m naming her Buckletta.”

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober - Day 7 (Judgment)

Pyramid Head x Male!reader

Your heart pounds in your chest as you run as fast as you possibly can. Your chest tightens as your lungs burn, pushing back all pain to the back of your mind as you try to escape the monster that wants you dead.

A man with a pyramid for a head.

A low growl rumbles in the creature's chest as it closes in on you. Its massive strides closing the distance between you two. Each step it takes shakes the ground beneath you.

You should've gone with James. You should've stayed where you were. You should've...

A gasp leaves your mouth as you stumble on a crack in the ground, and despite regaining your balance quickly, you glance behind you to see that the beast is right behind you

It raises its great knife, preparing to strike you down like the countless souls before you. It swings its arm back, ready to slice your body into two pieces.

Screaming, you duck down and hear a loud whoosh as the blade cuts through the air above your head. Your ears ring from the force of the blade slamming against the lamppost beside you. The post creaks under the pressure before breaking apart.

You take the moment to make some distance, your heart skipping a beat as you realize how close death was to claiming you.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Your voice cracks as you shout at the top of your lungs. Fear courses through your veins like electricity, making each breath feel like daggers slicing through your throat. Your heart races faster than it ever did before. Every beat feels like a explosion in your eardrums. Sweat drips down your forehead and pools in your neck, staining your shirt.

You take a sharp turn into an alleyway, sprinting towards the end of it, but as you reach the end, you find yourself staring at a dead end. Panic sets in as you realize that there's nowhere else to run. Your pulse quickens even more as adrenaline surges through your veins.

You're trapped like a rat.

You hear its stomping as the monster catches up to you, trapping your only way out. It looms over you with its massive frame, casting a shadow over your small form.

You take one step back, then another, and then a few more until your back hits the wall.

Its 'head' tilts slightly as it studies you, as if expecting something from you.

Then again, maybe it is simply waiting for you to break down. To beg for mercy.

James.... I'm sorry. I hope you find your wife.

And with that final thought, it closes the gap swiftly, moving far quicker than you imagined a beast that size could move.

Before you can react, a large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly against your windpipe. Your nails dig into its forearm as you attempt to pry it away from you. But it's like trying to move a mountain.

You immediately stop struggling as it presses the end of the blade's handle against your stomach, almost as if warning you. Struggling to draw in air, you and the monster stare at each other.

Minutes pass, and even though it hasn't moved or loosened its grip around your throat, it remains completely still.

Then suddenly, it pulls away slightly, raising its massive blade.

With dread settling in your stomach like lead, you squeeze your eyes shut.

...but nothing happens. No pain. No death.

Instead of feeling the searing agony of steel cutting through flesh, you hear a metallic thud followed by a low rumble. Cracking open your eyelids slightly, you notice that it had thrust its blade into the ground beside it.

It watches you closely for several tense seconds before slowly reaching out to touch you with its hand.

You instinctively try to pull away from its touch, but its grip on your throat tightens slightly, holding you in place as its fingers trace lightly across your chest.

As its hand continues to travel further down your body, you again try to struggle against his grip. It doesn't try to correct your behavior. Not that it needed to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as its hand slides under your shirt. Its burning touch sends a wave of unease through your body, threatening to engulf you fully like fire.

Maybe you'll spontaneously combust and be free from this.

Whatever it was searching for, it seemed to have found it as its hand begins tracing over the jagged scar that runs under your left breast as if trying to reopen it. You wince in pain as its rough touch irritates the sensitive tissue surrounding the old wound.

After a few moments, its hand shifts over to the matching scar under your right breast. Its touch lingers longer here compared to the last one, almost tenderly caressing the marred flesh before pulling away suddenly.

Withdrawing its blade from the ground, it turns away and starts to walk out of the alleyway. Yet instead of releasing you, it drags you along by the neck. Its coarse hands digging into your skin uncomfortably.

"Let go of me," you choke out between coughs, attempting to pry its hand loose from around your throat. Although it doesn't seem interested in releasing you anytime soon.

You frantically try to dig your heels into the ground in an attempt to slow it down, but the behemoth seemed unfazed. As you finally stop resisting, one thought throbs through your head...

Where was it taking you?

Scumtober 2024 Masterlist

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 3

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1426

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

JAKE POV - (One Year Ago)

He can’t stop watching you. Smiling, laughing, serving customers caffeinated beverages on their way to work. The sunlight streams through the front glass window of the cafe, the rays illuminating everything of you that they reach. Your hair, your eyes, your skin. You’re bright, happy, healthy, stunning, and it does unreasonable things to his heart.

He’s been sitting there for two hours now, not even pretending to occupy himself with a magazine or newspaper or anything that will make him less conspicuous. You’re the only thing that has his attention. The only thing that ever has his attention when he comes to this world. He spends this time, each second of it, observing your every move, memorizing every feature of your face, and when you leave for the day, he follows. Just so he can be a little bit closer to you.

You’ve never noticed him, and sometimes he chuckles at your lack of awareness and how well it works in his favor. You have no idea that he trails you from the cafe to your apartment. You have no idea that he stands outside your building as night cloaks the day. You have no idea that he leans against the same lamppost he always does when he comes to see you, his stare latched on to your window—third floor, second from the left—as you strip yourself of your uniform and into your pajamas. He’d watch forever if he could, but he, and those like him, do not have that luxury. 

The hand that lands on Jake’s shoulder is expected and he turns his head to his friend. 

“Time to go,” Javy says. “In a month you can come back and stalk her some more, but we’re cutting it close. We have to get back.”

Jake sighs, giving your bedroom window another glance. The light clicks off. “I know.”

“She’s not going anywhere. I’ve kept an eye on her in your absence and she’s had the same routine for the last six months,” Javy reminds him as he rolls his shoulders, preparing for the weight of his wings to return. 

Cartilage and bone materialize as his gray feathers, one by one, seek him out from the spot he had shed them. Each one returns to their place, layering themselves together until his wings are fully reformed. 

Javy gives them a testing flap, scattering the fallen leaves at their feet. When he sees Jake has yet to call for his own wings, he huffs. “Seriously, it’s eleven fifty-six. Do you really want to spend six months in The Tower because you chose to stare at your little girlfriend rather than be punctual…again? You literally just got out.”

Jake stands from his leaned position and a moment later his black feathers find him. He spreads his wings out in a stretch. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Javy says with pride. “So let’s go.” Then he’s shooting up into the night, a speck in the darkened sky. 

Jake takes one last look at your window, imagining himself in that apartment, holding you, kissing you, falling asleep beside you. He doesn’t want to leave you behind. Leaving you behind is leaving a part of his heart behind. But he has to do it. For the night, you’re warm and safe tucked in your bed, and that will have to be enough for him until his return next month.

“Good night, Angel,” he mutters. “Sleep well.” Then he follows after his friend.

—

Food everywhere. Grapes smashed in between the stones of the walls; plums dotting the floor, one having rolled under the bed; juice from apple slices staining the rumpled bedsheets; the silver tray, now dented in the middle, thrown across the room. All as if some bratty tornado tore through the place. Except now the brat is missing. 

He’d guessed you would struggle to stay put once you regained enough of your energy, which is exactly why he'd planned to sit by your bed while you slept. But—albeit very reluctantly—he had listened to Javy’s advice about giving you some space for the night. A mistake, clearly, because now he has to hunt his little escapee down.

Shaking his head, Jake rubs the back of his neck and gives the room one last scan in case you got the bright idea to hide until he got close enough for you to whack him in the skull with something hard. When the assault doesn’t come, he jogs to the window and peers through it the way you were when he found you standing there the other day, your pearly wings in all their grandness cascading gracefully from your back. 

Glancing to the nearby field many stories below, he spots you seated in the grass with your knees tucked to your chest. His pounding heart stutters in relief.

How the fuck did you get out, Angel? he thinks as he hurries from the room, down the multiple twisting staircases, and through the maze of halls. You’re the last person who should have the ability to leave this place. New residents of The Tower have been known to roam the halls for months at a time, trying to find a way out until they surrender to exhaustion and return to their rooms, and yet you walked right out the front door?

When he reaches the main floor, he stops short at the silhouetted figure leaning against the doorframe. He knows that figure well, and realizing that someone he trusts has been keeping an eye on you from a reasonable distance permits Jake to take a calming breath before he steps closer. 

“She’s…content, I think,” Javy says, tucking back his large gray wings to provide enough space for Jake to comfortably stand beside him. “Doesn’t seem to want to run off.”

“Only because she doesn’t know where to go,” Jake sighs, running his fingers through his hair. And thank fuck for that. “How long has she been out here?”

“At least since four. That's when I found her,” Javy informs him. He looks at Jake, playfully grinning. “We watched the sunrise together.”

“Has she seen you?”

“No. She hasn’t so much as turned her head in hours,” he answers, then after a pause of consideration, says, “How do you think she managed to make it out on her first try?”

Jake shakes his head. He has that very same question. Anyone would. “I don’t know, but had I known she could, I would have locked the damn door.”

“Maybe The Tower felt bad for her,” Javy suggests. “You know she always made it easy for the unfairly imprisoned.”

Unfairly imprisoned. Yes, Jake supposes that is what you are. But it’s not for forever, and it’s simply to protect you while you adjust to your new life by his side. Surely, you can understand that. And then you can start accepting the happiness and love you’re denying yourself. 

“She fucking scared me,” Jake says, and Javy snickers.

“Then I imagine you're even.”

“She's not scared of me, she just has to get used to me.” Jake watches the gust of air flutter your feathers. You still haven’t moved, save for one hand's fingers which continuously weave through the blades of grass. “She's taking her damn time though.”

“Don't be unfair. She's known you for a couple of weeks—a couple of very difficult weeks—which is nothing compared to the head start you had.” Also true, to Jake’s dislike. But he’s shown you how much he cares, and that should be plenty to help you catch up. Then Javy says, “You should take her back. Just for a few hours.”

Jake’s head snaps to the right, eyes just short of bugging from his head. “Are you insane?”

Javy shrugs. “The day is coming up. It might be easier for her to be here with you if she knows she has the option to visit her world.”   

“That’s not her world anymore.” 

“True,” Javy agrees. “But don't you miss seeing her smile?”

Jake swallows. He’d give anything to see you smile again; smile at him again. Though he was gifted one when he was deep inside of you, praising you, telling you how beautiful you were, offering the same compliment since he brought you here has not elicited the same reaction. If anything, you frown more intensely, with more effort. 

“It's too soon,” Jake says. “She's still attached, and I can't trust her.”

“It's more important that she trusts you,” Javy counters. “And this could be your olive branch, my friend.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me

[lunesviolettes]

Void - 03.

(This series was originally posted on my Wattpad, so I’m bringing it over here)

pairing: MCU!bucky barnes x MCU!female reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: Y/N was far from any normal girl in Brooklyn during the 1940s. Her physical and mental strength were far from ordinary and her mother and father were nothing short of strange, just like her. Secrets and strange occurrences were all that she had ever known and with the approach of a second global war, it seemed that everything would only become stranger. A powerful organization, a target on the back of a young girl, a serum, and an infinity stone were all that it would take to change everything she knew about her world.

chapter warnings: none

a/n: This fanfic follows the course of the MCU movies (The First Avenger - Thunderbolts). It’s more focused on the story aspect of the MCU and is very much a slow burn type of story with not a lot of focus on smut.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

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You were in a rush to return home, weaving in and out of the crowds with your bag swinging to and fro. Unfortunately, your excitement had been far too much for the poor bag to keep up with and it wrapped around a lamppost, sending its contents falling onto the sidewalks in Brooklyn. Your heart plummeted in fear of losing any of those precious items and without a second to waste, you dropped onto your knees, scooping up the papers with a increased urgency.

When they were all safely tucked back into your bag, you stood and raced back in the direction you had been headed. If only you had turned or at least heard the poorly disguised german accent calling out for you to wait.

Your life had turned into a never-ending series of disappointments, starting with the discovery of your two missing papers along with the lack of further evidence on your parent's odd behavior. In fact, you hadn't heard a single word from them until they returned the very next weekend. When the attack on Pearl Harbor had been announced, your parents were gone more frequently for longer periods of time.

You could only suspect that they had some sort of involvement in the war simply based on the fact that you barely heard them speak of it. That alone was strange considering everyone in the entire country and beyond had been talking about it.

The light from the sun warmed your back as you walked along the dampened sidewalks and by the time you returned to your small Brooklyn apartment, you found a letter shoved in the space between the door and the brick wall, your name displayed on its front. Very slowly, you lowered yourself into a seat at your kitchen table, ripping the seal to discover what content lay inside.

Y/N,

I've been sitting and staring at this blank piece of paper for the past half hour because, truthfully, I have no idea what to say. I know I told you that night of your birthday that I would not let you suffer from your parent's secrets alone, but that may be a promise I will have to postpone. I’ve been drafted for the war and I am called to leave tonight. I don't know when I’ll back, but I will come and find you the second I return to Brooklyn. I'm not being shipped right out to the front lines if you were worried about that (I know you were). I will be trained along with whoever had been drafted at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin, which is not too far from New York. I'll miss you when I'm gone and I'm sure you'll miss having someone to call an idiot. I'll see you soon. Don't forget about your dear old friend Bucky Barnes while he's gone. I know I won't stop thinking about you. Goodbye for now, Y/N/N. 

                                                      - James Buchanan Barnes

Drafted. You knew that he would most definitely be drafted. Almost every single eligible man in New York was leaving and you had no assurances that he would be left behind. That didn't make it any easier, though. No doubt he was gone already and you had no idea when you would see him again. Your heavy heart lifted as you read on, a fluttering warmth filling your chest as you reached the end of the letter.

It was nothing short of friendly, and you figured Bucky had only put so much thought into the letter because he knew it would be a long while until he would see his friends again. Nevertheless, you couldn't help but feel your face heat up at the thought of being on his mind.

Bucky had always been a naturally flirty person, but this was the first time it seemed truly endearing and meaningful, not just a simple jab to see you become embarrassed. Your cheeks puffed up and with a sigh you released the captured air, bringing the note to your chest. I know I won't stop thinking about you. Every time the sentence was repeated in your head, you felt yourself grow warm.

Goodbye for now, Y/N/N. A nickname. A simple one, but seeing it written on that paper in his handwriting had you overcome with a sense of fondness. There was no doubt in your mind that you would miss Bucky. He would fill your thoughts constantly at the worry of anything happening to him, even if it was just training.

--------------------------------------------

As you had suspected, you found yourself thinking of Bucky more often than not. Of course, you still had Steve and Louise but even then, there were things you couldn't tell them. Your life was already busy enough as you had to make up for the lost research from those very few pages that went missing. You had collected the information you knew from Marie Curie's discoveries as well as past discoveries of elements from other geniuses prior to her existence.

So many experiments. So many trials just to discover one thing. You only hoped to one day create or discover something as magnificent as them.

Days. Weeks. Months passed by, and still…nothing.

You were drowning in your research. There were so many mysteries in the world and its complexities had you going nearly insane. You scanned through all the previous methods used to discover the known elements in their world and their similarities, but it was far more complicated than you imagined. What little materials you had from your time spent working with your father had already been used during hundreds of trials. Your observations turned into marks of scribbles that lined every inch...every centimeter of your papers.

It screamed insanity and you were sure you would never be able to go back and work through the process you used to isolate the already discovered elements that could be safely found. The lab space gifted to you by your father had been more than helpful, but you only wished you had more.

More experience. More material. More knowledge.

You were no genius and you were well aware of that so it had all begun to seem hopeless. You yanked open your door, set to go out and gather some more materials for your studies, but you were not at all prepared for the person standing on your porch. "You are a difficult person to find, Miss Y/L/N." The thick german accent was all you could focus on and his wild appearance made him seem like something out of a fairytale. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"My apologies. I am Abraham Erskine and I believe you dropped this." You gaze dropped to his hand, eyes widening as he revealed the papers you once thought were lost forever. "How did you find these?" You asked in disbelief, clutching them tightly to you. "That is not important. What is important is that I believe I know something that you may be able to help me with."

"With what?" Abraham Erskine smiled briefly and you watched as his expression became much more somber. "That is not something we should discuss here. Take this, find this building tomorrow morning. A woman will be there and she will ask you 'Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?' and I want you to say 'Yes, but I always carry an umbrella'."

"Wait but-" Your questions were cut off as he lifted his hand, taking a step back from the door. "Do not be late."

"But I don't-'' It was clear that none of your questions would be answered then, and that only made you all the more curious. You had no idea whether or not you could trust the man, but he saw your work, went through the trouble of finding you, which you were still quite unnerved by. Maybe him showing up was the sign you were waiting for all along. The sign that you were meant for something important. Something greater.

So you would go. You would do whatever Abraham Erskine had told you to do and hope that he was a genuine and honest man.

--------------------------------------------

You stared up at the building, your smile shrinking as you read over the sign above. "Brooklyn Antiques?" You whispered to yourself, unaware of the set of eyes peering at you from where they stood next to their vehicles. You have undoubtedly been tricked. You thought to yourself, but still, something within you kept you planted there. Something within you had your hand reaching out, fingers curling around the door handle. It was then that an older woman stepped out from behind a curtain, smiling sweetly at you.

Her approachable manner disappeared as she spotted the card in your hand that she knew belonged to the one Abraham Erskine had placed his fate in. "Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?"

So he was telling the truth. You were relieved upon the realization that you may have not been fooled by a deranged old man. "Yes, but I always carry an umbrella." You replied, wondering if you had even gotten the phrase right. That question was answered fairly quickly as the older woman moved towards her counter, reaching underneath it. A small buzz followed the action and she slowly gestured to the curtain she had just walked out from.

Your hands turned clammy as you pried apart the slit in between, coming face to face with a large and archaic bookshelf. You stood there for only a second, flinching as it emitted a click, the bookshelf parting in the manner a set of doors would.

What you found on the other side surprised you beyond belief. An almost industrial setting with men and women dressed in military attire. The door at the far end of the hall was constantly shoved open and closed by people dressed in stark white jackets. A few watched as you passed, and only when you got closer to the door had you noticed two figures standing almost frozen on the other side.

When you were only a few steps away from the door it was pulled open revealing the top of a metal staircase. Below it sat a circular lab space, a number of flashing lights filling your vision. Scientists hustled about the space, conversing in hushed tones. Your eyes scanned the crowds of people and two in particular had you nearly falling face-first over the railing.

At first, they didn’t stand out, but as you took a closer look, you discovered what was either your mother or someone who looked strangely identical to her. Your shoes clanged against the metal steps as you descended and that finally seemed to divert people's attention away from their work. A million questions were flying about the confines of your mind as you turned and found yourself face to face with both your mother and father.

"Y/N." Your mother stated, clasping her hands together in front of her. "Mom? What is this? This is what you do?"

"Not quite. Your father and I work with a classified team, known as the SSR, the Strategic Scientific Reserve. We were created to make this country safe from the organization, Hydra. Before that, we were part of a division of spies that was created after the Great War to keep our nation strong against foreign invaders, and this group was absorbed into the SSR." As confusing as that information was, everything seemed to fall into place.

It explained all the late nights your parents spent out of the house. All the secrets. The phone calls they got any time they were home. Even the weapon.

A man cleared his voice behind your parents before stepping out between them. "Oh, Y/N, this is Howard Stark. We have worked with him for many years. He is the reason that Doctor Abraham Erskine was able to find you." The man nodded once in your direction before you realized what it was your mother said. "Wait, found me?" You said incredulously.

"The papers you dropped. Abraham found those papers and realized you were the missing piece in what he needed to finish his ultimate creation: a serum responsible for enhancing human strength and their abilities." That was why he seemed so eager to find out where you were. Why he seemed in such a rush to get you to come to Brooklyn Antiques...or rather the secret base of the SSR. "So you and Dad have been doing this since I was born? Did you ever plan on telling me?"

"We didn't want you to get involved in this life. It's dangerous and we never wanted you to worry about us while we were gone." Your father had spoken for the first time since you arrived and although you knew he was just trying to make you understand why they never told you anything, it didn't make it any less painful.

"I would've rather been worrying sick about you two rather than be sitting at home thinking you two didn't care about me. Do you know what that was like? Being around my friends who always talked about all the fun they had with their families during the holidays, all the family dinners they shared together. Do you even know how many birthdays of mine you missed?"

"I-'' Your mother attempted to interject, but you were not having any of it. No more excuses. They had their time to talk. "Because I do. Sixteen birthdays. But I wouldn't expect you to remember." Your face heated beyond belief and you were painfully aware of the tears building in your eyes as well as the number of stares that clung to you. None of those details seemed to matter. There was nothing you could focus on beyond your blinding frustration.

You were entirely grateful when Abraham Erskine stepped into view from the other side of the room, meeting your gaze with a small but noticeable smile. "Y/N-"

"Please just leave me alone." You whispered, your voice cracking as you took a step back from your mother's outstretched hand. In an instant you crossed the room, moving to the right of Dr. Erskine, hoping he was unaware of what occurred moments before. "If we could please talk about what exactly you want me to figure out, that would be great." He nodded briefly, pausing to meet the stares of your mother and father before directing you towards the set of double doors he previously passed through.

Next Chapter

[seungrem]

Bang Chan x m!reader

‘Life Without You’ - Part 2 of ?

anon request - Part 1 **

summary: Male!reader and Chan share a connection in their teen years, though a difference in goals and family disapproval cuts their time short. Years later, someone attempts to pick up the pieces they both had left behind.

( overview: part 2, adult & idol chan, adult & non-idol reader, right one-wrong time trope. mentions touchy, persistent, stalker-ish, & avoidant behavior )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story & series - 9k words wtf )

🧸 ( eventual fluff )

🫧 ( super light angst )

☁️ ( y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Milan, Italy was immersed in history and rich culture. Walking alone through the park of a foreign country, ☁️ watched as the trees swayed alongside the stone path in which he walked. The sky was an inky purple, with a few dark clouds floating above. Tall lampposts illuminated the puddles around ☁️, his black dress shoes tapping as he walked toward his destination.

☁️ pinned his black tie down as he felt the wind brush against his white button up. He wore black pants and a black leather jacket- which he was gifted from his boss on their first day of the retreat.

The company ☁️ worked under “invited” a few of their employees on a short vacation to Italy. In reality, the company needed representatives to discuss something with their Italian branch. ☁️ didn’t understand what he was there for, his boss simply stating that his advice was valuable, and that the team needed moral support. He didn’t mind, though, as it was a much-needed break.

☁️ rolled his eyes at the thought of his boss as he finally reached the end of the park walkway. He stepped onto the sidewalk, waiting for the cars to pass before he could walk across the street. ☁️ and the boss’s team were meeting the Italian branch’s representative team at a luxurious restaurant nearby.

☁️ silently prayed to himself as he stopped in front of the large glass doors, sighing.

He was caught off guard as a boy in a suit, who seemed to be in his early 20s, opened the door. He motioned him to step inside.

“Salve, signore. Per favore, entrate.”

☁️ smiled warmly to him, assuming that he was working there.

“Grazie, signore.” ☁️ responded, which was the extent of his Italian skills.

☁️ walked down a small hallway with paintings framed along its walls. The hallway was dim, the only light coming from the spotlights on the ground and the room a few feet away.

☁️ looked around as he stepped into that room, it bustling with people. The ceiling was a shining shade of black with black carpeting. The walls were blue with neon signs illuminating each corner of the room. ☁️ turned to his right, catching the gaze of a girl behind a small desk. Assuming she was the host, he approached her.

“Salve, posso avere il nome della vostra prenotazione?” She spoke loudly, as the voices and music around them were almost deafening.

“No Italiano.” ☁️ basically yelled back in response, him creasing his eyebrows as he felt bad for not being able to communicate.

“Ah.. your name?” The girl felt a bit awkward as well.

As ☁️ was about to respond, he saw his boss approach the desk, waving nonchalantly. His boss wore a crimson-colored suit with a black turtle neck under it. His skin was a bit wrinkled, but you could only tell when up close. The boss’s hair was black with a tint of gray, and slicked back with what seemed like a lot of gel.

☁️ turned back to the girl, pointing at the man walking towards them. She simply nodded, smiling to the male as he yelled a ‘Grazie’ to her. ☁️ pulled his hand out from his side to shake the boss’s hand, but the boss put an arm around the male’s shoulder.

“Most of us are already sitting, come join.”

☁️ could tell he was already drinking alcohol, but couldn’t blame him. He turned his head to whisper into the boss’s ear.

“You should probably lay off the alcohol sir.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should see one of the Italians right now.” He let go of ☁️’s shoulder as they approached the large booth lined with black leather. Around the circular table, nine people sat, only three of them ☁️ recognizing. As the group locked their eyes on him, he put on a flashy smile and began waving to everyone. They all said their hellos, then turning to each other to talk amongst themselves.

☁️ sat next to his boss on the very edge of the seat, his boss intentionally or unintentionally brushing his leg against ☁️’s. Everyone spoke over each other as they all conversed, though ☁️ looked around the restaurant, choosing to people watch rather than participate.

A few minutes passed before their waiter arrived, a tall but younger man. He was attractive, the two catching each other’s glimpses almost immediately.

Ordering a salad, ☁️ watched as everyone placed their orders. As the waiter took his leave, the boss turned to ☁️.

“I’m paying for everything, so order whatever you’d like.”

☁️ turned his head as well. “Thank you, but I had a pretty big lunch.”

“Alright, watch out, though. I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

☁️ slide out of the boot and stood aside for his boss.

-

☁️ continued to watch the people around him, seeing his boss walk down the staircase behind a man in black. When the boss was a few feet away, ☁️ stood up again, allowing him to sit back down. After ☁️ sat, as well, he watched a pair of two younger girls, maybe in their late teens, walk up to that man in black as he was about to sit with his group. One girl was short and slightly stocky, wearing black pants and a white blouse. The other was tall and thin, wearing a long magenta dress. They looked very awkward, though they conversed with the men for a minute or two. The man sat in ☁️’s direction, taking both of the girls’ phones and signing the back of them. Though his face was far away, ☁️ noticed the man’s straight black hair and slanted eyes, him also with a well defined jawline. The man in black handed the phone back to the girls as they thanked him, giggled to themselves on their way back to their seats.

☁️ assumed that the man was famous, choosing to watch another group of people to pass the time.

After a minute of watching a man complain about his food, him received a tap on the shoulder. His boss looked down at him, then to the table where the famous person. ☁️ followed his gaze, catching the death stare that this man was giving him from around 20 feet away.

“Do you know him? Because he seems to know you.” ☁️’s boss said plainly. Trying to figure out who he was, ☁️ looked away after a few seconds.

“Not sure that I do.”

“Why don’t you go talk to ‘em?” His boss nudged him to go over, but ☁️ shook his head.

“No, no, no. Please, it’s fine. He’s probably just daydreaming or something.”

☁️’s boss was going to argue, but one of the Italian company members tapped a fork on his glasses. Raising it into the air, he got the tables attention.

The group finally began discussing the company’s activities and possible issues, though ☁️ only paid attention half of the time. He was surprised that the conversation was flowing so smoothly despite the language barrier.

From what ☁️ understood, the Italian branch was looking to expand to more locations, needing funding from ☁️’s location, the headquarters, to do so. After a while of talking, the waiter brought a few people’s food out alongside two or three other servers. Before he left, he handed ☁️ a very small, folded piece of paper. The server didn’t look at ☁️, making his handoff discreet before walking away as though nothing happened.

☁️ placed the small piece of paper under the table and opened it, the note in neat English.

‘Meet me in the upstairs bathroom.’

☁️ assumed that someone was hitting on him. Rolling his eyes, he crumbled the small note up and threw it into his pocket. He looked over to his boss, who was looking down at his pants.

“What was that?”

“Secret Admirer.”

“Who?”

“Did you miss the ‘secret’ part? It’s anonymous.”

The boss nodded in understanding, taking ☁️’s words as a ‘mind your business.’ ☁️ decided not to do what the note instructed. Instead, he glanced around the room to see if anybody was looking at him, attempting to spot the person who wrote the note. He watched his server approach the table where the supposed famous man was sitting, the two conversing. He watched as the man slipped the server another note, the three locking eyes as he did so. ☁️ felt embarrassment swallow his body, looking away almost immediately.

He kept his gaze on one of the Italian company members as the server approached him with his salad. He placed the bowl down, slipping another note under it. The boy furrowed his eyebrows, feeling awkward as he leaned down to whisper to ☁️.

“He’s very insistent, sir.”

The server hurried away as two other servers brought out the rest of the group’s food. ☁️ chose not to care about the famous guy’s ’insistence,’ instead focusing on the salad he just ordered.

☁️ finished his bowl quickly as his group continued eating. He grabbed his water glass, sipping out of it as he decided to people watch for the remainder of the night. He watched as the famous guy’s group stood up, seemingly preparing to leave. This relieved ☁️, who wouldn’t have to receive any more odd notes.

☁️ realized that he hasn’t read the note under his bowl. Discreetly, he lifted the bowl, grabbed the paper, and placed it on his lap under the table. He opened it slowly.

‘We went to high school together. I just wanted to say hi.’

☁️ grimaced at the paper, thinking of who from high school could possibly be famous, and in Italy at the same time as him. His curiosity got the best of him as he looked over to the group of men, his heart dropping as they all walked towards the exit. One of them departed from the others as they walked through that hallway, the man just standing at the host desk and turning his gaze onto ☁️. The famous man stayed behind, ☁️ noticing him in almost entirely black- dark grey jeans, a black hoodie, black mask, and black shoes. When the man noticed that he caught ☁️’s gaze, he slowly walked over to the staircase beside the bar. Trudging up, he occasionally turned around to lock eyes with ☁️.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” ☁️ whispered to his boss, before heading over to the steps. He passed the host stand, and then the bar, walking up the black staircase lined with dark blue carpeting.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he stared at the man who stood next to the bathroom doors. ☁️ looked around, making sure nobody was near them.

“Who are you?”

The man pulled down his mask, smiling a bit at the boy standing before him. His freckles and v-shaped chin made ☁️ smile as he finally recognized the man.

“It’s been a while, ☁️.”

“Felix, what’re you doing here? And why the secretive notes?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.. How have you been?”

☁️ walked over to Felix, who rested his back against the gray wallpaper. ☁️ noticed a sofa a few feet away from them, motioning Felix to sit down with him.

“I’ve been well. Began my dream job recently, and now I’m here for a few days with the company I work with. Everything’s good. How about you, though? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m well, too. And I meant to reach out, but a lot has changed since I moved.” Felix looked over to the boy with a soft smile. His voice was much deeper than ☁️ remembered.

“Oh, where’d you move to?” ☁️ asked, placing his hands on his lap.

“Korea. I’m in a band now.”

“No way, that’s so cool! Can I see?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Felix said quickly as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He tapped on the Spotify app, typing a name into the search bar. ☁️ watched as he clicked on the first option, ‘Stray Kids’ appearing on the screen. His eyebrows creased as he saw Felix with blue hair in the profile picture. What surprised him even more was the 8.7 million monthly listeners that the group had.

“How.. that’s a lot of people.” ☁️ looked up at Felix, who giggled at the comment.

“Yeah, I know. We’ve been doing really well. Wasn’t a fan of the blue, though.” Felix pointed at the picture, making ☁️ smile.

“You’ll have to invite me to a show or two.” ☁️ laughed, half-joking. Felix nodded, taking his phone away and putting it on the sofa.

“For sure, we’re actually in Milan for our world tour. You should come, I’ll invite you backstage and everything.“

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” ☁️ shook his head, though he did actually want to see Felix perform.

“Of course. You and I weren’t as close as you were to..”

☁️ was taken aback when he heard Felix say Chan’s name.

“But, I think it’d be nice if you said hi to him after so long.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“What do you mean?”

“Chan is in the group.”

“What?”

“You didn’t see him? Look to my left.” Felix pulled out his phone and showed ☁️ the picture on Spotify again, tapping Bang Chan’s face. He looked the same, but also different than ☁️ remembered.

“Are you sure that’s Chan?” ☁️ choked on his words, suddenly becoming uncomfortable. Chan hadn’t been on his mind since he went to college, and the boy left a sour taste in ☁️’s mouth after so long. Felix frowned at his reaction, seeming as though he hoped that ☁️ would’ve been more excited.

“Yes. He’s still the Chan he was before.”

☁️ nodded slowly, realizing that Chan must’ve gotten far with the agency he was in during high school. The male realized that he had buried Chan deep in his mind, ☁️’s head beginning to hurt as Felix forced him to dig the memories back up. He exhaled softly.

“I see. I’m very happy to see that you two are well. And still together.” ☁️ smiled genuinely at Felix, who smiled back.

“I’m happy to hear you’re good too, give me your number so that I can text you the concert information. Also tell me where you’re staying so I can send the ticket to you.”

Felix tapped an app and handed the device to ☁️, who typed his number in and made a contact.

“Okay, thanks. The rest of the guys are waiting for me because I told them I was using the bathroom. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“For sure, it was so nice to see you.” ☁️ lifted his body off of the sofa, Felix following his action. Felix reached out his arms and wrapped them around the male, ☁️ hugging him back. Felix practically squeezed ☁️, the two embracing for a few seconds before Felix let go.

“It was nice to see you, too. I’ll be in touch.” Felix waved as he began down the steps, ☁️ waving back shyly with a smile. As Felix faded out of view, ☁️ fell back onto the sofa absolutely astonished.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Chan. Specifically about the wasted time they spent together in high-school, though ☁️ remembered enjoying it while in the moment. Memories of the boy also brought back memories of his family, who wouldn’t accept him if their lives had depended on it. ☁️ rarely spoke to his parents, doing so once or twice a month. The man sighed and stood up, though he felt nauseous. He spent the next few minutes sitting, the white noise of the restaurant below feeding his motionless state.

“☁️, you okay?” One of the younger guys from the boss’s team approached ☁️ from the top of the steps.

“Yes, just had to make a call.” ☁️ said monotone, him standing up and adjusting his jacket from around his shoulders.

“Oh, ok. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

☁️ muttered a ‘thanks’ before nodding, watching as the man entered the bathroom. Sighing once again, ☁️ advanced down the steps and to his table.

“Why were you upstairs for so long?”

The boss walked alongside ☁️ as the other four company members strolled a few feet behind them. The group was heading back to their hotel, admiring the city on the way.

“Had to take a phone call, that’s all.” ☁️ said, his face still forward. He felt his boss’s eyes on him, the man returning his gaze toward the stone walkway.

☁️ felt his phone buzz through his pocket as the tree branches swayed above him. He pulled the device out, there being a text from an unknown number. The male supposed Felix had messaged, ☁️ tapping on the notification and reading it.

Felix had already sent him the concert ticket- including the date, time, and stadium name. ☁️ smiled, responding with the name of his hotel and his room number, along with a ‘thanks :).’

He closed the messages app and looked at his lock screen. The concert was in two days, and ☁️’s company had four days left in Italy.

The group stepped onto the sidewalk. Waiting for cars to pass, they could see their hotel- it was just a few blocks down the street.

This part of the city was quieter than most, with the only sound being cars roaming or pedestrians chattering. ☁️ and his group crossed the street, the male looking over to his boss after.

“Boss?”

“Yes, ☁️”

“Are we busy in two days?”

“Is that Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Then kinda. We have a meeting at noon at the Italian Headquarters. It shouldn’t be too long, why?”

“No reason..” ☁️ said as the group walked slowly down the sidewalk. “I was just hoping to tour the city a bit more.”

“That’s fine.. Also, would you like to grab coffee with me tomorrow morning?” His boss turned to look at ☁️ once again, his voice becoming soft.

☁️ looked back at his boss, the man’s face holding an empty expression- as if he was tired. ☁️ forgot that the boss was a bit tipsy, wondering how the man was walking so normally. “Feel free to say no.”

“I’m sorry, I was hoping to sleep in before our tour tomorrow. Maybe next time.”

“For sure.”

-

The group’s hotel was extravagant, probably because the company was covering the expenses. With two large, beige columns surrounding the entrance, two glass doors stood between ☁️ and the lobby. As the first to walk through, ☁️ stepped into the breezeway and then the lobby. He stopped at the beautiful floral arrangement that sat in the center of the room, waiting for the rest of his group.

Looking around the room, he noticed two men step out of the elevator beside the front desk. One wore a black mask and a grey cap, with a white shirt and tan cargo pants. The taller one was extremely attractive with long black hair, sunglasses, a plain white shirt and really baggy jeans. He watched as the two walked in ☁️‘s direction, the one with the mask seeming to notice ☁️ looking at them. Feeling awkward, ☁️ turned to his group, who were finally standing next to him. After the two guys walked past, the boss held his hand out, motioning ☁️ to lead the way.

“Ready?”

☁️ nodded his head and walked over to the elevator, everyone’s shoes tapping against the white marble floors. Pressing the button, they waited for the elevator to come back down.

As the door popped open, Felix practically ran into ☁️ as he hurried out.

“Ah, sorry! Oh, wait. Hi, ☁️. Did you see where Channie went?” Felix moved out of the way so that ☁️’s group could walk into the elevator.

“I’m not sure. A guy with a mask walked outside a minute ago though.”

Felix grabbed ☁️’s wrist and began walking outside, ☁️ stumbling behind him. The elevator door closed after his boss’s team watched, visibly confused.

“Felix, what are you doing?” ☁️ sighed.

“Say hi to Chris.” Felix dragged the boy through the glass doors and into the breezeway before ☁️ lightly pulled his hand away. His eyebrows creased together and a nervous chill descended down his body.

“I can’t, Felix.” Annoyed, he spoke softly as to be polite. ☁️ should’ve been walking into his room and getting ready for bed.

“Please, just say hi to him. It’s been a really long time.”

“Why?” ☁️ questioned rather impulsively, tilting his head at Felix.

“What do you mean?”

☁️ hesitated to answer, choosing to look at the ground instead of the man in front of him.

“It’s been a really long time.” ☁️ continued to face the floor, the two standing in silence for a few seconds.

“Do you hold a grudge against him?”

☁️ picked his head up to look at Felix, surprised by the boldness of the question. The two stared at each other again, ☁️ not knowing the answer to Felix’s question. Did he actually hold a grudge against Chan? It wasn’t his fault that the two of them didn’t work out all of those years ago.

“It’s not.. my place to tell you how to feel, but you two were young. If you’re going to see him Sunday night, I think you should.. think about it.” Felix’s voice turned soft, his words feeling as though he was soothing a deep wound in ☁️’s mind. ☁️ looked up and down, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I don’t blame him. It’s just…”

“..difficult to process?”

“Exactly.” ☁️ nodded his head, to then match Felix’s eye contact.

“I understand. I just thought that you’d be more excited to see him, considering your.. you know.” Felix let out a nervous chuckle, a few strands of his black hair getting into his eye. He continued, “This is a sudden.. and.. weird coincidence that we’re all here at the same time. And staying in the same hotel. I’m obviously not going to force you, but maybe we can all hang out later?” Felix anticipated the male’s response with a sympathetic smile.

“Of course, maybe when I’m not dressed like this.” ☁️ smiled and looked himself up and down. He was still in his dress pants and tie.

“Are you free tomorrow?” ☁️ asked timidly. He noticed that Felix hadn’t grown much since high school, but he definitely looked more mature.

“Later in the day, yes. Let us take you out.”

☁️ was about to argue, but the unknown man with black hair approached the glass, tapping on the door lightly to get their attention. He pointed a thumb behind him, as a sign that they should get going.

“Okay? I’ll see you tomorrow, ☁️.” Felix waved goodbye as he stepped out of the glass doors and into the night air. A light wind escaped into the breezeway, causing ☁️’s ties and jacket to flail.

☁️ rose out of bed, rubbing his eyes. It was 11am, so ☁️ took his time to get ready. Repeating his odd interactions with Felix in his head, past memories were all he could think about. The coincidence of him being in the same city at the same time as his celebrity high school friends was a distasteful concept. Equally as distasteful, the concept of Chan throwing ☁️ off pace as he had done all of those years ago made the male sigh. He had gotten over Chan completely after high school, but ☁️ was now in his mid-twenties. He felt immature for wanting to push Chan away and avoid him, having to remind himself that people grow and heal as time passes. ☁️ slept on the idea of seeing Chan today, unexpectedly content with the idea. He took his time getting ready for the day.

-

☁️ held his phone above the nightstand beside his bed. It was 11:40am, and he had received a text message two minutes prior.

Felix: Are you free at 6pm?

☁️ had planned to visit the Lago Maggiore with his company’s team today, though he assumed that they wouldn’t be there for more than a few hours. They were supposed to meet in less than 20 minutes.

☁️: Sure!

☁️ placed his phone back on the nightstand and got dressed, wearing something rather light for the warm day. He made sure to look well-polished for the evening, though.

With four minutes left of their car-ride back to the hotel, ☁️ would have a few minutes to spare before meeting with the guys.

The lake was fun, ☁️ did some touring and took lots of cute pictures- both of himself and with his boss’s team. The sun drained his energy, though, so he planned to go lay for a bit before going out back out.

☁️ rested his head against the car’s leather seat, closing his eyes as the boss drove the group through the busy streets of Milan.

☁️ opened his eyes as his alarm went off at 5:58pm. He reached over to his nightstand, tapping around until his alarm turned off. He slowly rolled off of the bed before stretching, grabbing his phone, and putting his shoes back on. As he reached for the doorknob, a light knock erupted from the other side.

☁️ opened the door steadily to see Chan with his head down, holding a bouquet of white lilies. Startled at ☁️’s quick response, Chan raised his eyebrows and stared at the male.

☁️ stared back at Chan in a state of bewilderment, him frozen entirely. Chan shook off his nerves and curled his lips into a bashful smile. The man admired ☁️ for a few seconds longer before softly handing the lilies over to him. Still confused, ☁️ took the flowers, holding the bouquet as if it were a baby. He wasn’t aware of the blank expression on his face, ☁️ eventually forcing a smile as he looked Chan up and down. The man wore a white shirt under a baggy jean jacket with black straight-legged pants. His hair was dyed light brown, it a little less wavy than ☁️ remembered. The male thought Chan looked tired- his skin was shiny but he had faint bags under his eyes. As he caught Chan’s gaze, he realized that he forgot to acknowledge him.

“Thank you. Please come in.” ☁️ said softly before turning his back to the boy, walking inside. Chan followed him, standing in the hallway as he watched ☁️ remove fake flowers from a vase. The male filled the glass with water, him then placing the bouquet of lilies into it. He walked over to the window, setting the vase on the table below it. ☁️ turned around to face Chan from the other side of the room.

“How have you been?” Chan said, still looking ☁️ up and down. ☁️ leaned on the table behind him, placing his hands on the rim of it.

“Well, and you?” ☁️’s eye twitched as he responded, hoping the man wouldn’t notice.

“I’ve been okay.”

“That’s good.”

Chan nodded his head, looking around the room. He felt awkward and was clearly nervous, though, ☁️ was too. ☁️ decided to break the tension as he walked towards Chan.

“Is Felix in the lobby?”

He passed Chan and opened the room door.

“He… didn’t want to come.”

“Of course he didn’t.” ☁️ mumbled under his breath. Felix had always been sneaky, though his intent was never malicious. It was obvious that the man was trying to set the two up again, but ☁️ couldn’t imagine it.

“Can I invite you out?.. Just us two?” Chan walked up to where ☁️ remained stagnant.

The male didn’t respond, nor did he move as the door slowly closed to a shut. ☁️ breathed silently, completely overwhelmed with the way the past two days have been.

Reuniting with the man that he fell out of love with was painful, and he felt himself wanting to avoid the situation altogether. What did he owe Chan? And after all this time? It wasn’t like Chan had made an effort to reach out after a little less than 10 years.

Chan stood quietly behind ☁️ as he watched the male remain in his stance. After a few seconds of silence, he walked around ☁️, opening his room door.

“I’m sorry, I hope you liked the flowers.” Chan sighed passively, almost as though he didn’t want to say it. The man began down the hallway, placing his hands into his pocket. ☁️ peaked out to watch the man’s figure become tinier in the distance, feeling bad for his silence. Felix’s words crept on him as if he were a ghost or omen.

Whether cause by an epiphany or not, ☁️ had finally comprehended how he felt. He did hold a grudge against Chan, and he felt terribly immature for doing so. Maybe Chan was truly the right person, but the two had connected at the wrong time. Those tropes had always seemed bittersweet, anyway.

It was impulsivity’s influence that convinced ☁️ to run down the hallway and into the area housing the elevator. ☁️ stood with his hands at his side, watching Chan slowly disappear behind the closing elevator doors.

To his surprise, Chan shoved his arm through the opening before it could shut, causing the doors to reopen. Chan took a step forward as ☁️ walked over to him. Before the doors could close again, Chan grabbed ☁️’s wrist and pulled him into the elevator, pulling with such force that the two ended up body to body against the wall. Chan leaned his head down as ☁️ lifted his, the two locking lips almost immediately.

The elevator door closed and ☁️ felt a rush of euphoria trickle down his body, alongside a pair of hands. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck as the two continued to make out.

The elevator began to descend, which caused ☁️ to pull away from Chan and look at the declining numbers behind him. The male turned back at Chan, who couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face.

“I really missed you.”

☁️ unwrapped his arms from around Chan, putting them to his side and turning around.

“I’m sure.”

The elevator door beeped, opening to the main lobby level. Two men stood opposite to them.

“S‘cuse us, Seungmin.”

Chan pushed ☁️ from behind after placing a hand on his lower back, the two hurrying out.

“Where are you going?” The man behind ‘Seungmin’ asked, turning his head as Chan walked past.

“Going on a date, I’ll be back.” Chan said after removing his hand from ☁️’s waist. ☁️ didn’t turn around, already pondering about his decision.

“A date, hm?” ☁️ scoffed slyly, as the two walked over to the glass doors. Chan didn’t entertain his flippant remark, simply stating, “Yes.”

☁️ didn’t anticipate having a make out session with his kinda-ex in the elevator, but was somehow a bit less anxious when around Chan now. The two walked through both of the entrances, down the small staircase, and out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m parked in the garage behind the hotel. Just wait here and I’ll spin around, yea?”

Before ☁️ could respond, Chan was already power walking toward the side of the building. ☁️ felt around his pockets, realizing that he forgot his phone and keycard in his room. He cursed under his breath, contemplating on whether or not he should run back to his room and grab it. Wait, how was he going to get in without a keycard? He sighed, walking back inside and towards the front desk, there luckily being no line.

-

☁️ watched as Chan pulled up to the curb in a red car, it seeming to be an older model. ☁️ walked over to the passenger side, though Chan practically threw himself out of the vehicle before he could open the door.

“Stop-” Chan shouted, him rushing toward ☁️ from around the car. Confused, the male took a step back as Chan opened the car door for him. He looked up to ☁️ expectantly, ☁️ rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thank you.”

Chan nodded as ☁️ stepped inside the car.

-

The drive was silent- for the first few minutes that was. ☁️ couldn’t stop looking at Chan as he drove. The sky was transitioning into a purple hue, though its clouds of pink and orange refused to do the same. The street lights eventually turned on sequentially, illuminating the road as night engulfed the city.

“See something you like?” Chan looked over to ☁️, a smirk forming on his lips. ☁️ could tell he was overly confident since the kiss they shared, the male wanting to change that.

“Felix told me you guys were in a band. Wanna play a song for me?” ☁️ was now the one smiling as Chan became visibly nervous.

“If you’d like. You’re gonna have to use your phone, though. There’s nowhere to plug a cord in here.”

“I don’t have my phone, can I use yours?”

Chan furrowed his eyebrows, though he didn’t question it.

“Yeah, it’s in my pocket. Pull it out.”

☁️ reached over into Chan’s pants pocket, grabbing his phone. He tapped on it, a picture of Chan and his group as the wallpaper. He slid up, though the man had a password. As the car came to a stop at a red light, ☁️ shoved the phone in front of Chan. The man looked into it, unlocking the device with facial recognition.

“What’s your band name?” ☁️ asked as he tapped on the Youtube app.

“Stray Kids.”

☁️ almost laughed at him.

“How’d you come up with that?”

“I’m not answering you.” Chan said dully, though he smiled. The man was relieved to hear ☁️ teasing him, the two slowly becoming more comfortable with each other.

☁️ tapped on the first music video that popped up, it being ‘S-class’.

“182 million views? That’s cool.”

“Which ones that?”

“S-class.”

“Watch another, you’re not gonna like that one.”

“Too late, it already started.”

☁️ smiled at Felix as he appeared on the screen, though he jumped back as the rapping started- chan tried not to laugh at him. ☁️ watched the music video intensely, occasionally chuckling at it.

“Any of your group members single? You should give them my number.” ☁️ smiled at Chan, who wasn’t as amused.

“No. I don’t even have your number.” Chan seemed jealous.

“I’m kidding,” ☁️ mumbled, continuing to watch the video.

“Why don’t you have a lot of parts?” ☁️ asked, this time in a serious tone.

“I have more throughout the album.”

As the music video finished, ☁️ nodded his head.

“Very experimental.”

“I said you weren’t gonna like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Maybe it’ll grow on me.”

Chan smiled at the comment, his eyes still on the road.

“Listen to the La-La song. You’ll like that one better.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

☁️ tapped on the ‘LALALALA’ music video, it having a much smoother start.

“Felix looks really good.”

“Yeah.”

As the video came to an end, ☁️ smiled at Chan.

“I did like that one.”

“See?”

☁️ closed the app and turned off Chan’s phone, placing it in his lap.

“I’m impressed. Hope I’m hearing those two live.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

The two smiled to each other as Chan pulled into a small parking lot.

“We’re here.”

-

“Hyunjin took me here on our first night. It’s nice, right?”

Chan stood beside ☁️ in a small, open-concept restaurant. The two drove into the countryside, where it was much less crowded. The restaurant featured large glass doorframes with many plants hanging from above- giving the room a comfortable feel.

“Yes.” ☁️ responded, still looking around. A woman brought the two to a table in the corner, Chan sitting against the wall. She handed the two a pair of menus and quickly departed. ☁️ opened the menu, half-expecting Chan to start a conversation, which he did.

"☁️,”

“Yes?” ☁️ placed his menu down to look at the man in front of him. Chan hesitated as ☁️ narrowed his eyes at him, probably making the man even more hesitant.

“Firstly.. I’d like to thank you for coming out with me. I’m very happy to see you again after so long..” Chan avoided eye contact with ☁️ as he said this, making the male smile.

“I’m happy to see you too.” ☁️ replied, genuinely. After the kind gestures and impulsive decisions, ☁️ had put his pride aside to hear Chan out- which he had been enjoying so far.

“I just wanted to say.. that I apologize. I wanted to reach out to you, honestly. I just got so caught up with my schedules and my health- I just..”

“There’s no need to apologize.” ☁️ interrupted.

“No, I need to. It wasn’t right to abandon you the way I did.”

“It was a mutual decision, Chris.”

“Even so, I shouldn’t have let you go. Despite everything. I should’ve kept in contact, and after you went off to school and I became an idol, I tried. I guess you got a new number because my messages would never go through.”

☁️ tilted his head. “So you did try to reach out?”

“You think that I wouldn’t have?”

☁️ looked down at the table, not remembering what could’ve prevented him from receiving Chan’s texts. He simply shrugged his shoulders at Chan’s question.

“Just know I did, but I should’ve done more.”

“Wouldn’t your fans have been angry, anyway?” ☁️ looked up and at Chan.

“So?”

☁️ sighed, knowing that this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“Chris, when we stopped talking in high school, it was because you always kept me hidden. And all of these years later, I still feel the same way. I’m not going to be hidden in your shadow, and I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” ☁️ spoke so that his voice was concise, yet tender. He wanted to be honest in the kindest way possible.

Chan contemplated ☁️’s words, the two sitting in silence for a moment. He looked over to the waitress as she approached the two, a notepad and pen in hand.

Ordering waters and a small appetizer, the two watched as she smiled and walked away. Chan looked at ☁️ with a blank expression, the male creasing his eyebrows at him.

“If I tell you this, you need to promise me that you won’t be mad.” Chan was serious, but ☁️ rolled his eyes.

“Okay, just tell me.”

“You need to promise.”

“Okay, I promise, just tell me.”

“Actually..” Chan looked up at the ceiling, contemplating once again. “..Let’s talk about it after we eat. I don’t wanna go back and forth.”

☁️ huffed, sitting back against his chair with his arms crossed. He looked at Chan with a somewhat irritated look, forcing Chan to change the topic.

“You know, Felix wouldn’t shut up about you. He’s really happy you’re here.” Chan smiled as he spoke. ☁️ gave the man a small smile back, nodding. “He told me that he was gonna take you out if I didn’t.”

Though confused by his statement, ☁️ he didn’t question it.

“Well, I’m glad I’m here too. He’s a sweetheart.” ☁️ picked his menu back up, quickly picking something to eat before the waitress came back.

“He is.”

-

Chan having ordered a lot, the waitress took empty plates and bowls from the table. ☁️ watched the man finish the rest of his food, there only a few people left in the restaurant.

Sitting across from Chan felt the same as it had in high school- with an unspoken tension between them, ☁️ was still happy to be in his crush’s presence.

“Do you remember when we would sit together after school?” Chan pushed his bowel to the edge of the table, ☁️ stunned by his question.

“I was just thinking about that.”

“I remember you’d always meet me after classes so that we could walk together. And the way my mom would cook you food when you came to my house. You always felt bad when she did.”

☁️ smiled wistfully and nodded.

“Also, when I joined the club you were in just to spend time with you. And when you’d help me with my essays in the library. I had a crush on you for a while before we talked. Then you started avoiding me.”

“I recall both of us avoiding each other after we both decided that it wouldn’t work out.” ☁️ blinked, keeping his gaze on Chan. “I was.. miserable.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

☁️ shook his head. “It’s okay, I don’t really remember it.”

Chan nodded slowly, him then placing his elbow onto the table. The man rested his chin into his hand, softly gazing at ☁️.

“Well, I do. And.. I really hated living my life without you.”

Chan and ☁️ stared at each other, though ☁️ couldn’t help but tear up. He turned his head to the side, looking down at the wooden floorboards surrounding him.

A single tear fell, though both of his eyes have watered. The male looked down at his shirt and lap to see where the teardrop could’ve landed, though there was no sign of it.

The waitress trotted over to their table and placed the check in between the two, thanking them and quickly departing. ☁️ continued to look down, though he thanked the lady back before she walked away.

Chan immediately grabbed the check, walking up to the stand to pay for their food. Embarrassed, ☁️ wiped his face with his sleeves.

Chan approached the table, offering a hand down to ☁️. The male placed his hand into Chan’s as he helped ☁️ get out of his chair. Before resting his hand on the male’s hip, Chan wrapped his arm around ☁️’s back.

The two walked side to side out of the restaurant, only stopping when they reached Chan’s car. Chan moved his hand from ☁️’s waist to his shoulder, placing his other hand on the opposing side. The two now looked at each other, ☁️ noticing that Chan was now the one teary-eyed. Chan pulled the male into a tight hug, ☁️ hugging him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry… I really am. Can I ask you to give me another chance?” Chan kept his grasp on ☁️’s body as the two continued the embrace. ☁️ exhaled loudly.

“You live in Korea, don’t you? It’s not going to work, Chan.” As much as it hurt ☁️ to say, he wanted to remain realistic.

“I forgot to talk about that.” Chan took a step back from ☁️, him grabbing the male’s hands and holding them.

“Oh, yea. What were you gonna tell me before?”

“Let’s get in the car.”

-

Chan pulled out of the parking lot, driving for a minute before turning onto a dirt road.

“This isn’t the way we came.”

“It’s a scenic route. I took it last time I came.”

☁️ looked out of his window to see the town fade into trees.

“What were you gonna tell me.”

“Don’t be mad.”

☁️ looked over to Chan, getting irritated. Chan glanced over, smiling at the boy’s expression.

“So, after Felix saw you in that restaurant you went to yesterday, he met your boss in the bathroom. He asked about you, and they had a pretty lengthy conversation. He learned what you do nowadays, your company’s name, your department, and all that.”

“What?!”

“Felix said that there was a Korean branch happy to hire you. He spoke to them today.”

☁️ laughed out loud, baffled.

“Wait, wait, wait. So Felix was spying on me, got a lead on me through my tipsy boss, and then got me a job in Korea? I don’t even speak Korean.” ☁️ looked over at Chan, still in shock.

“We could be together if you moved.”

“You think I’d just pick up and leave because we bumped into each other? Chris, please be realistic.”

“I can’t let you go so easily, ☁️. I already made that mistake. I need you.” Chan spoke softly and turned to ☁️, the two glaring at each other before Chan noticed the car was shifting off of the road. He harshly turned the wheel, regaining control and continuing through the forest.

“What you need is your eyes on the road.”

“I’m serious, ☁️.” Chan exhaled loudly.

“I’m serious, too. It’s unrealistic. I already told you that I didn’t want to be hidden.”

“I wouldn’t hide you. I’d tell the whole world about you if I could.”

☁️ thought his words were sweet, but he had his mind made up.

“I’m sorry.”

☁️ watched as the city in the distance became closer and closer. It didn’t take the two long to reach the hotel’s garage, Chan pulling in.

Chan parked the car, the two then unbuckling their seatbelts. He pushed a button on the driver’s seat door, a clicking sound following. ☁️ tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“My door won’t open.” He looked over to Chan, the man’s finger hovering over a button. ☁️ looked back at his side’s door, realizing it was locked. He pushed the lock open, though another click sounded.

“I’m not letting you leave until you give me a second chance.”

☁️ rolled his eyes and turned to face Chan.

“I already told you how I feel.”

“Just spend a month with me and see how it goes. Please.”

☁️ pushed the lock up again, Chan clicking the button. He thought about Chan’s offer, though he didn’t want to give the man hope.

“I can’t.”

“I have my own place. You can stay with me.”

“How would you make time for me? How would we be out in public? I refuse to repeat how things were before.” ☁️ gave up and rested his head on the seat.

“That’s what I’m saying. I’d make sure it wasn’t anything like that. I’d take you everywhere that I go. I promise.”

Chan grabbed ☁️’s hand, basically pleading him with puppy eyes. ☁️ glanced over at him, the scene making him smile.

Spending a few weeks with Chan didn’t sound too bad. It wasn’t like he had much going on besides work- no boyfriend, no pets, just an insipid apartment. He really liked Chan, and was truly considering to try it all over again. Considering the opportune circumstances, maybe their fire was meant to rekindle. Maybe they were truly soulmates. ☁️ didn’t want to lose what displayed so much promise.

“I’ll talk to my boss. A month seems too long.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” Chan smiled at ☁️, letting go of his hand. He tapped another button on the door, unlocking the vehicle. The two slid out and walked together up to the hotel entrance. Chan took ☁️’s hand and intertwined their fingers as they walked up the steps.

Realizing that he was supposed to grab a keycard from the front desk, ☁️ let go of Chan’s hand and stepped behind an older person speaking to the worker. After a few seconds, the person walked toward the elevator, ☁️ smiling as the lady recognized him. She grabbed something from behind the desk and placed it in front of him.

“Thank you so much.” ☁️ said as he grabbed the keycard, him then waving goodbye.

“You left your card up there?” Chan asked as they approached the elevator.

“Yeah, when I.. met you at the elevator.”

“Met, hm?”

“Shut up.”

Chan smiled, pulling the male into him as they waited.

The elevator beeped and then opened, the two walking inside. ☁️ tapped his floor number, expecting Chan to do the same after him- except he didn’t.

“Aren’t you going to select your floor?”

“No. I wanna spend more time with you.”

“I’m all Chris-ed out, sorry.” ☁️ smiled as Chan wrapped his big arms around the male’s neck, resting his head onto ☁️’s neck.

“No you’re not.”

The two stayed in that position until the elevator opened, ☁️ dragging Chan to his hotel room down the hall. Swiping his card into the lock, he opened the door and led Chan inside.

“This means you’re coming back to Korea with me, right?” Chan asked as he climbed onto ☁️’s bed. ☁️ grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It was 10:49pm, much later than he expected. He had a few messages from his company’s team.

“No. I don’t have a plane ticket or enough packed clothes.”

“You could just come with me and take mine.” Chan rested on his back, watching as ☁️ sat beside him. Chan pulled ☁️’s shoulder down.

“I have to work.” ☁️ now laid in front of Chan, the two looking into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t make me wait long to see you. I’ll miss you too much.” ☁️ turned to face Chan, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. Chan responded by placing a hand on ☁️’s waist, lifting the male to sit on top of him.

“We’ll see.”

Chan continued to rub around ☁️’s waist and behind.

“The very last time you came over, we laid like this, and I remember wanting to kiss you bad. You had to go, though, and I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I also remember when you said your parents didn’t like me.”

“How the hell do you remember everything after so long?”

“How could I forget?” Chan smiled, his soft voice and smooth skin making ☁️ melt from on top of him. The two continued to look into each other’s eyes, ☁️ moving his legs onto each side of Chan’s hips and sitting. Chan grabbed the back of the male’s neck, softly pulling his head into his. The two locked lips, ☁️ trailing his hand down the man’s large chest.

Chan grabbed ☁️’s chin and lifted the male’s lips off of his own. He smiled, at ☁️, utterly enamored.

“I won’t let you go again. Would you let me be your boyfriend?”

“So suddenly?”

☁️ intertwined his fingers into Chan’s as he sat on the man’s waist. Chan simply nodded as ☁️ leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. Not being able to wipe the grin off of his face, Chan anticipated the boy’s response.

“I suppose.. we’ll see how it goes.” ☁️ whispered teasingly, his hand cupping the side of Chan’s face.

“Finally.”

Chan placed his hands on ☁️’s waist again, flipping the two of them over. ☁️ now laid under Chan, who put himself in between the male’s legs.

The moon hung high outside of ☁️’s hotel room window, glistening above thin clouds. Chan placed his lips on ☁️’s neck as those clouds lingered gracefully and uninterrupted through night sky. Within only a few minutes of being alone together, Chan and ☁️ had already tuned out the world around them. Both focused on the man they held close- the one with the beautiful smile and soft touch.

Now that Chan and ☁️ had accomplished both of their dreams independently, having each other in their arms was their only priority. They simply weren’t meant to be apart; rather, their purpose lies in a life with each other.

-——♡——-

BONUS: ( may or may not be a snippet of part 3 )

“Have you been enjoying the concert so far, babe?”

Chan was the last one to step backstage during the intermission, him immediately sitting next to ☁️ on one of the couches. He pulled ☁️ into a hug and rested his head on the male’s shoulder, sweat dripping from his head.

“Yes, but you’re all sweaty..”

“You didn’t seem to mind that last ni-“

☁️ punched Chan’s arm, looking around to make sure nobody heard him, making Chan laugh.

“Be quiet, I’ll grab you a towel.”

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: this took forever sry :,) idk how to feel abt it but hope u guys liked !! ♡ this draft was making my app glitch so bad LMAO. anyway, part 3 is not coming soon- i need to write abt smth else for a while lolzz

-——♡——-

[h50europe]

From Evan Buckley With Love... also on AO3

Tonight, Fire Station 217 is transformed into a scene of elegance and festivity. The station's gritty atmosphere is replaced by twinkling lights and decorations as everyone dresses up for a special charity event. The goal is to raise money to renovate the children's wing of a nearby hospital, and the community has come together to make it happen.

Tommy and Lucy take to the dance floor, their laughter and joy contagious as they sway to the music. On a hunch, Tommy eagerly buys several raffle tickets, hoping for a stroke of luck.

As the drawing progresses, anticipation builds. When Tommy's number is finally called, a cheer erupts from his colleagues at their table. Grinning from ear to ear, he makes his way to the stage to claim his prize: a beautifully wrapped lemon loaf, one of his all-time favorite treats. The loaf is adorned with a cute tag featuring a hand-drawn fire engine, adding a personal touch to the prize.

Returning to his table, Tommy is greeted with applause and hearty congratulations from his fellow firefighters.

Tommy turns the tag over and his face falls. His stomach clenches, and his lungs feel like they're being sucked dry.

"What's the matter with you, Tommy? You look like you've seen a ghost," Lucy says worriedly.

But Tommy remains silent, clutching the tag and staring at it as if it were a cursed object. In a way, it is. The text on the tag reads From Evan Buckley with love. "This is a bad joke," he mutters. He can't believe he bought the ticket that would win his ex-boyfriend's handmade loaf.

How could Tommy have known that Evan had gone into a baking frenzy after their breakup? When his family and friends couldn't take another loaf, he spent a weekend wrapping and labeling them. He donated five loaves to charities around town, and one of them ended up at the 217.

What were the odds that Tommy, of all people, would win one in the raffle? Was it fate? Or was someone playing a cruel joke?

Tommy couldn't tell. But whatever it was, it killed his mood and brought back a wave of emotions and memories.

"Excuse me, I need some fresh air," he mumbles and runs off, leaving the loaf on the table.

His colleagues are wondering what happened. Curious, Lucy looks at the label and immediately knows what caused Tommy's strange behavior, but she keeps it to herself and gets up. The others watch her curiously.

"I'll go check on him," she explains and follows Tommy outside…

Tommy bursts through the side door of the 217 and into the fresh night air. The city is alive with the sounds of distant traffic and the occasional honk of a horn. The cool breeze carries the faint scent of blooming flowers from a nearby park, mingling with the aroma of street food from a vendor down the block. Neon lights from the surrounding buildings cast a colorful glow on the wet pavement, creating reflections reminiscent of a kaleidoscope. But Tommy remains oblivious to the vibrant display, leans against a lamppost and tries to catch his breath.

The night sky is clear, the stars twinkling like distant memories. He can hear the muffled laughter and chatter from inside the venue, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside him. The air feels heavy with the weight of the past pressing down on his chest.

Lucy steps outside, her heels clicking softly on the pavement. She spots Tommy and approaches him cautiously, her concern evident in her eyes. As she walks toward him, her mind races. All this because of that note? she wonders. I knew they had a rough breakup, but this…

The city buzzes around them, but now it feels like they are the only two people in the world. Lucy's thoughts drift to the times she saw Tommy and Evan together and how happy they seemed. "He doesn't deserve this kind of pain," she thinks, her heart aching for her friend.

"Tommy," she says softly, "are you okay?"

Tommy looks up, his eyes reflecting the neon lights, and takes a deep breath. "I just… I wasn't expecting this," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucy nods, understanding the unspoken words. The night air envelops them, a silent witness to the resurfacing emotions.

"I'll be here for him," she decides, determined to help him through this moment. "Do you want to talk about it?" Lucy asks quietly, coming closer.

Tommy shakes his head, then sighs. "It's just… seeing his name again, on something so personal. It brought it all back."

Lucy puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I get it. Breakups are hard enough without unexpected reminders popping up."

Tommy nods, grateful for her understanding. "I thought I was over it, you know? But this… it just hit me out of nowhere."

"That's normal," Lucy reassures him. "Healing isn't a straight line. Sometimes things like this happen, and it feels like you're back to square one. But you're not. You've come a long way."

Tommy looks at her, a small smile forming. "Have I? Should I even be over it? After… After eight weeks, two days and a few hours?"

Lucy smiles at him, "Don't tell me… You made that up, didn't you?"

"What?"

"That eight weeks, two days thing." She stares at him.

"No, it's true," he replies without blinking.

"You know that's unhealthy behavior." She decides to distract Tommy from his dark thoughts and suggests, "Let's go for a walk, clear your head a little."

Tommy nods. They link arms and walk down the street together, the city lights guiding their way. As much as Tommy tries to avoid thinking about Evan, one memory stands out in Tommy's mind.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and they had decided to bake cookies together for the first time. Evan, a stickler for detail, insisted on following a complicated recipe he had found online. Tommy, on the other hand, preferred to wing it. As they mixed the ingredients, flour ended up everywhere—on the counter, on the floor, and even on their faces. They couldn't stop laughing at the mess they were making.

The real fun began when it was time to shape the cookies. Evan tried to make perfectly round cookies, but they kept coming out lopsided. Seeing an opportunity for fun, Tommy began to shape his cookies into ridiculous shapes: one looked like a dinosaur, another like a starfish. Evan tried to keep a straight face, but soon he was laughing so hard he had to sit down.

When they finally put the cookies in the oven, they realized they had forgotten to set the timer. They ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, watching the cookies through the oven door and betting on which ones would burn first. In the end, the cookies were a disaster - some burned, some undercooked - but they didn't care. They spent the rest of the afternoon eating their misshapen creations and laughing until their sides hurt.

It was a simple, silly moment, but it was one of Tommy's happiest memories of their time together. It reminded him of the joy they had shared. He sighed heavily. Even though he had initiated the breakup, it had left him devastated.

more here on AO3

Does anyone want more of it?

[living-stun]

At first, no one really noticed.

Sure, Spider-Man wore the same ripped suit for a week—but hey, he’s busy! Probably no time to get it patched.

Then came the sightings.

Spidey, rooting through a dumpster. Civilians assumed he was chasing a villain. Or maybe scavenging rare tech for his suit. Right?

Right?

Then there was the hot dog thing. He saved a vendor from a falling AC unit and all he asked for was one hot dog.

“Modest,” people said. “Humble. King behavior.”

But then… it happened.

Spidey was mid-swing when he stopped. Full halt. Dropped to the ground.

To grab a dollar bill.

A single dollar bill.

Which blew away in the wind.

And he chased it.

Like full sprint.

One bystander: “Guys… I think Spider-Man’s broke.”

Another: “No way. He’s always working, never takes days off, risks his life daily. He’s gotta be fine.”

Silence.

“Oh my god. He doesn’t take days off. He’s putting New York over himself.”

One civilian just bursts into tears.

They start leaving out snacks. Cash. Taped to fire escapes.

A sticker appears on lampposts: 🕷️ Tip your Spider-Man.

[yuaoxi]

𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 || Xiao x F!Reader

Chapter 6.5 - The Conversation

Tired of his father living vicariously through him, Xiao decides to start the band he’s always dreamed about. Fame and wealth never mattered to him, he’d just want to feel part and contribute to a community that’d accept a broken man like him.

Starting a band in his friend’s garage, Xiao runs into a problem: there’s no drummer. Thus, auditions are held to be apart of the band. Our dear bassist has little to no experience with women, so how could he deal with one joining the band? Why did she bring so much of her ‘girl drama’ to rehearsals, and why is his ex trying to get back into his life?

Word Count: 1.4k

– xiao’s pov –

The garage was unusually quiet, except for the sound of pens gliding across paper. The yellow lighting in the garage illuminated the dust still flying around, the messy pile of paint buckets on one corner, while the other corner housed a fridge containing Itto’s favorite imported beer, and a motorcycle covered up in plastic.

All members of the group were throwing out song suggestions that none seemed to fit.

‘Static Heart’

‘Velvet Forest’

‘Cherry Blossom’

‘The Ocean Side’

‘Echoes of Us’

They were either corny or trying too hard to be deep.

But he can't judge too hard, the names on his notebook were just equal to their suggestions.

‘What about Pulse?’ he thought, tapping the end of his pen onto the paper.

Deep in thought, a throat cleared near him brought his gaze towards the person in front of the garage door. Ganyu.

The way she was dressed showed she just returned from a date, she scanned the room and obviously her eyes lingered on their drummer. Of course she’d have a problem with it, but at the end of the day he’s doing her a favor.

Ganyu worries about Y/N having ulterior motives to win Kazuha back, secretly working with Yunjin so he could take her back. And he’ll admit that's part of the reason he vouched for Y/N to join the band, but it's not entirely true. She earned her spot.

If it was Yunjin’s plan to get either her or Y/N into the band, Xiao feels as if he must play the part to figure out how to protect himself. For now, he'll just keep an eye out on their drummer and any suspicious behavior.

“Ganyu? What are you doing here?” he asked, genuinely curious as her popping in was a surprise.

“Can I talk to you? Outside?” She whispered that last part, waiting for him to stand up so she could lead him out somewhere.

The other member's attention turned to him, much to his humiliation. He hoped they wouldn't ask him any questions as he returned from whatever she had to say. Also hoped Venti wouldn't try to eavesdrop, knowing how nosy he is.

The air outside was cold, somewhat windy, and it was dark now. Street quiet and lit up by lampposts down the neighborhood. Seriously, how do Itto’s neighbors never complain about his loud parties?

A silver car parked behind his car on the street, lights still on. Probably Kazuha waiting for her from the driver's seat. How embarrassing for Ganyu, dragging her date with her to go see him.

Her white faux fur scarf covered her arms well from the cold as her arms crossed against her chest, matching Xiao’s crossed arms.

Xiao sighed, “Listen, before you say anything-”

“Her? Why? What if she's working for… Yunjin?” Ganyu whispered his ex’s name as if it was a forbidden spell.

“I vouched for her to join. She earned her spot.”

“Oh? So what if she's just in to get closer to you for… her.”

“I don't know that. Yet. I’m keeping a close eye on her, promise.”

His blue-haired cousin scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t trust her.”

“You don't have to. Just trust me.”

While she was right to not trust her, Xiao didn't know enough to make her trustworthy enough. He could either keep a close eye on her or ask Venti. But that means he’d have to be real subtle about it. Can't ask him if she’s seeing someone otherwise Venti would think he developed a crush on her. Can't bring up Kazuha and Ganyu casually, he doesn't know how he’ll react. Same for Y/N, they're not close enough for him to casually ask about her ex or make her think he’s into her by asking for her relationship status.

Ganyu stared intensely at him, violet eyes scanning his golden orbs, looking for anything else in them. Finally, she let out a sigh, dropping her arms to her sides in defeat. “Alright, fine.”

As he turned around to go back into the garage, a pair of slender hands wrapped around his wrist. “Wait! Before you leave, Kazuha wanted to talk with you.”

‘Fuck, he probably asked her out already.’ is all he thought as Ganyu dragged him over to the car parked behind his. She’s always been the type to crave a form of validation. It really wasn't her fault, just her dad, his own uncle, constantly being a busy politician so she always looked for validation through her cousins.

Kazuha stepped out of the car as he and Ganyu approached the car. Black dress pants, red button up shirt, and black tie. Hair still in that tiny ponytail. Kind of a weird feeling having this guy in front of him dressed so fancy while he’s wearing his typical black jeans + hoodie combo.

The blonde stuck his hand out to shake his hand.

‘At least he’s respectful’

Xiao took his hand and shook it firmly, earning a pat on the arm from Kazuha.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Ganyu said, getting into the passenger side.

“So, I’m assuming you asked her out already?”

“Yes, said I should get your approval first,” the blonde nodded, leaning back onto the hood of his car, “specifically you.”

Xiao unamused shrugged his shoulders. This wasn't really the first time his cousin has brought up a boyfriend to him, but it was a little annoying to go through.

“Well, do you smoke? Drink? I won't judge.”

“I don't smoke, I drink socially.”

At least he's not an addict. Xiao grunted in response, just stared at him to see what Ganyu could see in him. Y/N dumped him for a reason, so there's a reason to look out for him. Usually, the guys his cousin would bring over get easily intimidated by him, but this guy seemed calm, soft smile resting on his face and eyes seemed to almost match. Unreadable but he can't decide whether to be cautious or not.

“So, it’s nice seeing you again. Bummer I didn't get chosen for your band,” his head moved in the direction of the lightened up garage but red eyes stayed still on his, “just out of curiosity, who'd you pick?”

There it was.

Did he know Y/N would've been chosen? Or even audition?

He'll find that out for himself later, for now a simple lie would do.

“Friend of a friend. Best drummer we could've had.”

“Oh? Do they go to the same school as us? I may know them.”

“You’ll just have to find out then,” his golden eyes shifted to Ganyu’s face but she was preoccupied looking down onto her phone, “you should take her home soon. She’s an academic ace, don't want her to get distracted.”

Kazuha shifted his attention to the girl in his car, then looked back at Xiao. He knew what he was doing, there's no question about that. The blonde nodded, walking back to the driver's seat of his car, “It’d be cool to come by sometime. Maybe offer a pointer or two.”

A warning. Ganyu looked back at Xiao from the window, waving goodbye at him. He stepped onto the sidewalk as Kazuha pulled out and watched the car as it went down the street and turned the corner.

That asshole is not trustworthy.

A long sigh escaped his lips, turning back to face the house he was staying at. Peeking up at the upstairs window was his beautiful calico, Mila. Should be her feeding time soon, so better end this band meet quickly.

Walking back into the garage, the scene in front of him surprisingly grounded him. Aether is laughing on one side of the old couch, Venti is hovering over Y/N trying to kiss her as she’s pushing him back and screaming.

At least they weren't eavesdropping.

Xiao coughed to grab their attention, which worked as all heads turned back to him.

“How about Pulse?”

“Pulse? For the band name?” Venti questioned as he climbed off of Y/N, allowing her to sit upright.

“Yes. It’s simple, just one word. Thought of how when we finally perform, peoples heartbeats will pump.”

“That's pretty sappy, but I like it.” the blonde nodded in agreement.

“All those in favor?”

Everyone’s hand rose.

Pulse it is.

The rest of the meeting continued as the topic shifted to figuring out an aesthetic for the band. Where to meet the middle ground between four varying personalities.

But he couldn't stop staring at Y/N. What about her made Ganyu insecure and Kazuha still obsessed? He just hoped to figure it out quickly so he can keep the band drama-free. Especially knowing if she’s really working with Yunjin as an attempt to get them back together.

Venti wouldn't hold anything back, would he?

prev. chapter ⤌ masterlist ⤍ next chapter

[allwormdiet]

Interlude 2

Ahh, it's time for Brockton Bay's healthiest family to debut

Flight is so cool. Flight without having to get cold or wet or getting pelted by bugs is outright unfair.

Me, utterly charmed: oh my god she's a fucking NERD

And she's a nerd who's scaring the piss out of Nazis, who would hate this girl?

Which, oh yeah, the Nazis run around in Brockton Bay, bet those guys will never sour my mood

Glory Girl's got a whole bunch of powers, huh. Can't wait to get into the exact circumstances of how she got really cool abilities as an inadequate consolation prize for whatever hell she had to endure

I'm gonna be real, the description of this throw made me flinch a little bit. Like he's a Nazi so fuck him, but I hope it doesn't turn out that Victoria is this blase about all her targets

...So if the only spines she ever breaks are Nazi spines, then I'll give Glory Girl every pass she ever asks for, but if she ever wraps a weed dealer's skeleton around a lamppost I'm going to feel a liiiiiittle more concerned.

Everything else aside, this is fucking hilarious

So these two are at the epicenter of, as far as I can tell, one of the most divisive subjects in this fandom? With the others mostly seeming to be variations on "did such-and-such character have full moral justification to do actual for-real crimes against humanity." Let's see where this takes us

I feel a little bad immediately for the contrasts between Vicky and Amy. Five bucks says it's gonna turn out Amy is like the only brunette in the whole family, and while everyone else gets to show off a little she's dressed in a sackcloth. It's very white mage, but I don't know if she even knows what a white mage is.

Also it's a minor detail in the grand scheme of things but I fear for her hair's health if it's actively being described as frizzy

So apparently between ragdolling a Nazi like it's Garrys Mod and this passage, people have chosen to interpret Victoria Dallon as a monster. I can see how they'd be mistaken on this because technically speaking they're close: she's a teenager. For a lot of people the worst version of ourselves is one that exists somewhere between the ages of twelve and twenty, don't ask me how I know that one. The guilt trip here is definitely manipulative, but so is every kid who's trying to play whatever card they have to dodge repercussions for their fuckups. This is a kid, not a master manipulator who twists hearts around in her fingers like rings. This is normal behavior within an abnormal context.

According to Wikipedia, "foreshadowing is a narrative device in which a storyteller gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. Foreshadowing often appears at the beginning of a story, and it helps develop or subvert the audience's expectations about upcoming events."

Fuck Nazis, and I'm gonna get in a preemptive "fuck Coil" while I'm at it

Hmm. So here we get the Docks from a third perspective (albeit a Nazi's, so let's take it with a grain of salt), and this time it's presented as something of material value. I wonder how much of that is due to the neighborhood being low-priority for the police and Protectorate, if they decided it's not worth policing if it's not going to recover any time soon.

It's also interesting seeing which names are being thrown around with the possibility of fighting over the territory. I know Squealer ends up part of the Merchants and they end up being a decent power in their own right, but I don't know if any of the others would have shown an interest in fighting for territory. I got the impression that Uber and Leet are more like unfunny and violent pranksters than anything, Circus apparently operates on their own which doesn't seem like how you'd make dreams of conquest come true, the Undersiders are sticking with the theft shtick at this point, and I don't know shit about Trainwreck or Stain. Wonder how much of this is legit speculation, how much of it is the E88 leadership blowing smoke for their followers, and how much of it is this specific guy blowing smoke.

Yeah, see, they're good kids. For now.

Current Thoughts

To pull back on the frame a little, I think this interlude was written with two goals: first and most obvious is to get us in the head of another young cape, a for-real hero this time, who will be featuring in future events to some extend, but then beyond that it's reflecting the rippling consequences of Taylor's actions. Taking down Lung was a good deed, it saved lives and weakened a major gang within the city, but now others are rushing in to take advantage of this and it could cause more harm than was prevented in Arc 1. Taylor couldn't have known these repercussions were coming, she's a high school sophomore who'd only engaged with the cape community in any way after she'd already knocked the bastard over, and she probably still would have made the play to take Lung down and save the Undersiders even knowing that there might be increased gang violence. She's big on action and she's big on pushing through to solve the problem, repercussions dealt with later, but I suspect that everything is going to ripple out in this same way until the whole city starts shaking with it.

Anyway, more to the first point, I like Victoria, she took very little time to endear herself to me and I'm not going to feel so awful about her bone-breaking habits as long as she keeps it to the Nazis

I haven't seen enough of Amy to have a full read on her yet, and I haven't gotten into her head to know how she thinks or feels, but for now I'm pretty solidly on sympathy/pity for her. I'd say something like "we'll see where she takes it from here" but I kinda already know that one

Hoo, boy. Arc 2 done with. 18 chapters in four days? That's not bad. I'm gonna stretch my legs and think for a bit and then I'll give my two cents on the whole of Insinuation.

[ang3lofdivinity]

☂𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚡𝚢 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢☽˚｡

Relationship(s): Hazbin Hotel (Platonic - some Romantic ideas as well) + Acheron!Reader

Format: Stories + Headcanons

Genre: Fluffy goodness, but of course angst is in here as well

Warnings: Spoilers for Hazbin, Spoilers for Honkai Star Rail, Angst, Valentino, toxic behaviors and everything, normal hell activities, swearing, reader is just like Acheron (even with clothes), violence, gore, toxic behavior (ahem that memokeeper), discrimination, suicidal/dark thoughts, emetophobia, cannibalism.

A/N: Wrote this in the night, so this’ll be decently bad…. Um. ALSO. I’ll get to my asks after this, I promise. There’ll probably be a different version of this where reader makes it in heaven / where the reader gets with the Vees :)) - Also.. YOU GET A SONG!!?!,‘Clawed’ hand refers to the claw jewelry Acheron has for you :33 Thank you to @littlewonders7 for the main idea for this fic! Also note: Reader is NOT Acheron, they are only similar. Skin color, hair, etc is up to you (but I decide your outfit. Because I say so.)

Side note: This is mainly a STORY fic, and an overview of where the Reader will end up with some Headcanons, this will be continued in another part because this took WAY TOO long to write.

A rush of pain flows through your head, accumulating a headache which blooms like a flower. A flower thats poisonous vines with prickly thorns wrap around, it creates pounding sensation in your skull that hurts more than you could possibly fathom, furthermore it causes the feeling of a throbbing sensation behind your oculus’s. Luckily enough, it feels as if they’ve been shut tight considering there’s absolutely nothing you can see but pure darkness. However, during your time as a Galaxy Ranger from years ago, to now (where you still have no-one)- you’ve learned to use your other senses if in need of it.

The ground beneath you felt far too warm to be any normal location within any planet you’ve visited so far, or one you’ve been to before as a matter of fact. It’s so.. uncomfortable. So much so that you swear you can feel yourself sweating, trickling down. This makes you believe you’re flat on your back, but you can’t exactly pinpoint on what, and it’s making you nervous. You barely get nervous over things like these.

What were you doing before this?.. 

. . .

“Memokeeper, do you not understand the definition of ‘I wish to be alone’? Have you no respect nor decorum? You continuously insisting on interfering with my personal affairs will do no good for your reputation in my book.” Your voice unintentionally sounded harsher than you intended, but the anger swirling within leaving a bitter taste on your tongue made it all the more infuriating that someone was constantly prodding into your business. It’s.. awkward. The different length high-heeled black boots you’re wearing click against the pavement of the sidewalk, the red parasol you’re carrying covering the glimmering light of the moon, streetlights stationed on almost every sidewalk, along with all sorts playing on the televisions shining down.

The stubborn memokeeper beside you strides along, hands behind their back as they laugh at your, as what they believe, antics.

Barely anyone is walking the streets of the city from what you can tell from the bright florescent lights of lampposts, considering it’s night. There’s barely anyone around you two..

“Oh, please. You think I’d leave a criminal like you freely tread around the city knowing you could kill another innocent citizen here?” Your gloved hand tightened around the handle of the parasol, oculus’s narrowing down at the tips of your heels as you try to relax yourself, feeling your blood boil at their words.

“No wonder you can’t love yourself..” They mumbled under their breath, chuckling at their unfunny joke.

“A Galactic monstrosity like you… I can understand.”

This is what they want: a reaction out of you. You’re not going to submit to their demands.

“Wow. How impertinent and immature of you, █████ ████. Accusing me of a crime which I am merely a suspect in, with not even enough grounding evidence that can actually prove me to be the true culprit. I never thought you could stoop this low.” After your decently blunt words, you attempted to ignore the memokeeper.

Thankfully enough for you, they were keeping silent for most of this walk. Looks like they were getting the hint.

Until their footsteps stop.

And it makes you stop in your tracks, about to turn on your heel.

That is until you feel something slamming against the back of your skull, coupled to the blood rushing through. Stumbling forward, you struggle to keep yourself up on your feet- struggle to keep yourself awake even for crying aloud.

And you can no longer keep your balance.

Gentle fingertips graze against the back of your head where the blood is gushing out as it oozed to the back of your neck, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than your own skin. No-one was there to witness the crime they had committed. How lovely! You looked to be paling rapidly, collapsed on your side. They rubbed their thumb over their index and middle finger, smearing the liquid on their glove in a circular motion. Staring blankly at your pathetic form- they smiled, resting their blood-soaked hand over the wound which caused a soft lavender light to illuminate from beneath it.

They weren’t heartless. But of course, they weren’t just going to heal you all the way!

Pulling their hand away, they slipped their non-blood covered hand into one of their pockets, pulling out a tarot card: a simple main color, being black, is mixed with intricate golden designs curling around it. But then, they started chanting something you couldn’t make out:

What’s going on?..

. . .

The atmosphere around you feels more humid than ever, not only that- it appears to be very different from other planets you’ve ventured: it’s also choleric, disorderly, and noxious. Though, you’re still alive. It must have something keeping you breathing in this unfamiliar environment.

Your hair is the only thing cushioning your head, still resting against the rough surface of the ground beneath you. Trying to move your arms, you take notice of how heavy your bones feel, like something is restraining them. This could not get any worse. They fall back slack against the surface of the ground, the hot

Furrowing your brows together, you attempt to for your eyes open despite how this migraine is progressing along with the heavy feeling of your eyelids keeping your eyes shut tight. You have to get them open. You have to get up. Slowly, you find yourself cracking open your eyelids just enough that they’ve raised just enough that they’re half-lidded.. which was actually harder than you thought. What the actual hell is going on??

Blurry, almost like a white fuzz effect is causing everything to appear blurry to you. Your pupils start to dilate as you essay to comprehend your surroundings.

Something bright is burning—

Oh wait.

..The Sun?

Or at least, something akin to a sun. It’s only making everything worse the longer you try to stare at it.

Drawing your attention away from the blinding light, you find it lingering on the sky, which is a wine red color and a ribbon red pentagram at the very top, almost like a sigil. Looking at all of this at once made the throbbing migraine slowly become worse, causing you intake a sharp breath through gritted teeth.

It was painful.

It hurt just to be awake in this moment, and you didn’t want that. But does a Galaxy Ranger ever give up during times of confusion and harm?

You want to.

You really do.

Maybe all of this would end, and you could just feel at peace for once in your goddamn life.

Nevertheless, you found yourself forcing one of your arms to move to pinch your shoulder, just to confirm you were in the Reverie hotel and this was just some odd nightmare. But it wouldn’t work. You know that. If this was the Reverie, you would’ve been able to awake in your hotel room, or even in a place like Golden Hour.

The small flash of pain from the pinch was still lingering on your skin, however you could care less in this moment. You needed to get up. With a huff of pain, you’ve propped yourself up on your elbows (despite the long and drawled out process it took in order to get yourself in that position), struggling to keep your eyes open and yourself awake. There’s no point in falling asleep when you’re already up. Plus, you won’t be able to fall asleep once again that easily, unfortunately. It’s by far one the worse feelings by far.

The pit within your stomach, creating a strange sensation that causes unease makes you want to continue to try and rest (even if it’s futile), but you don’t follow it, and instead manage to bring yourself to get on your knees. You’re trying to ignore the aching pain that’s practically taking over your body with every action you take by overwhelming yourself with a singular thought.

The ‘death’ awaiting you when your end finally arrives.

Served on a silver platter.

Huffing, you finally take a moment to let your eyes adjust to your surroundings: you’re, in what it appears to be, a vast and overcrowded city. How overwhelming and inconvenient.

The more you overlook this megalopolis ablaze with neon lights flickering on and off, the more it made you dizzy and worsen your migraine symptoms. Yet you take a deep breath.

You ignore it.

The best you can- at least.

You attempt to keep looking, noticing that some of these signs actually have some words on them- indicating what they have in store for any living person within this metropolis. Casinos, nightclubs, adult film studios, brothels, restaurants, television stations, and hotels are only a few things that you could name. What gets you to tear your gaze away is, what appears to be, a large clock tower glowing ever so brightly glowing with a golden hue as if blessed by the aeons themselves.

In a way, it makes you feel even more sick.

A rotten feeling. Truly.

It hurt more horribly than you originally thought.

…

There’s no ignoring this anymore, you have to find something to relieve your pain.

But you’re in an unfamiliar location.

Realizing you’ve been laying on a warm cobblestone pathway, on the near outskirts of any human interactions.

Where theres far too many individuals bustling around whom you can’t even see from here. But, thanks to the indistinct chattering of people and clicks of the heels of shoes tell you everything you needed to hear.

And what if no-one recognizes you?

Maybe that’s for the better, though. You would much rather have no-one know who you are than at least one person who does (that is, if you don’t have much of an intimate relationship).

The vertigo lingering around has made it that you could care less at this point.

Does this planet have an apothecary somewhere?

A quiet sigh escapes past your lips while your hand glides down to find the hilt of your long sword, which isn’t hard to find considering your position. With a hum of satisfaction, you carefully begin to stand up, the heels of your shoes clicking as you first begin in a lunge to raise yourself up. The vertigo almost makes you loose your balance, yet you continue.

Theres no other option.

You can never turn back — the path behind is gone.

That’s what you’ve always said, after all.

Driving yourself forward, you’re able to fully stand up and be able to take a few steps forward, but not without stepping on something that causes you to look down.

..Your parasol?

Retracting your heel, you take a moment to stare at it. You haven’t broken anything, it’s just almost caused you to lose your balance by the round handle.

Without a second thought, you slowly get down on one knee and grab it by the handle before arising back up from your spot, and open it as it unfurls before you. It feels.. comforting, just to have something that’s a memorabilia of sorts. It makes you nearly forget the other so despondent feelings dissipate. Slightly, that is.

A soft smile graces your lips, letting out a small sigh of relief.

Yet when you turn your head to look back at the very large city… you decide to head on over to one of the more safer looking buildings to find directions, and where to get out of here again. After-all, you don’t wanna be stuck in here longer than you have to be.

You haven’t even finished your mission on Aureon yet..

Not only that, but considering the amount of people after you- along with that large bounty placed over your head.. it’d be best if you didn’t dawdle around some unfamiliar location for too long. Who knows what could happen to you.

The melodic clicks of your heels sound out as you lower your head to look down at the tips of your heels, your parasol blocking out many of the Illuminating lights ahead. As you stroll through the oppressively humid city, you try to remain.. oblivious to the world around you. However, the sound of.. sloshing catches your attention. It’s grotesque… far too grotesque for your liking, and coupled with the rotting smell that hits your nose— it leaves you with an unpleasant feeling that you cannot describe.

It makes you feel physically sick.

Aeons— is someone chewing on something?? Why does it sound so awful? Why is your gut instinct telling you to run away, just anywhere else that isn’t here??? Your free hand reaches down to the hilt of your sword for some form of self-reassurance, trying to think rationally of the situation.

Until you simply cannot take the suspense.

You tried, you truly tried. But those aeon awful noises are making you far too agitated for no reason, it makes you want to throw up right here and now.

Tentatively, you raise your parasol, only to witness some.. far too peculiar things that make you regret ever looking.

Cannibals. They’re eating each-other. The blood spilling from the corpse they’ve violated, and it looks raw. Fresh, brand new for crying aloud. As if they grabbed some random individual to commit these.. heinous acts on. They grip onto the poor victims clothes and now limp body, ripping, gnawing, tearing at the skin as they devour the victim. And nobody even bats an eye. It.. somewhat makes sense as you survey further. All of the denizens here look like goddamn demons the more you look over them. You see things on fire, citizens running all-about the city, and what appears to be on the TV’s are.. less than pleasant to rest your eyes on.

Your eyes widen with terror, trying to comprehend what’s even happening.

It isn’t until someone approaches you from behind do you feel the amount of fear equivalent to when back on your home planet. Back when they—

Before even thinking twice, or at all for that matter about what you’re going to do, which your thoughts are all too fast for your liking as you can’t even catch up. That is, before you use your long sword- still within it’s scabbard, deftly turning on your heel as you slice the individual behind you in-half.

It was an automatic response. An instinct. It’s not your fault. It’s NOT your fault—

Your legs automatically move backward before you twirl around once again and dash forward, making you sprint faster than you’d ever had. You need to make it to that building.

You need to get out of the streets.

You have to get out.

Y̸o̴u̷ ̷h̶a̶v̷e̷ ̷t̷o̸ ̴g̶e̶t̶ ̶o̶u̴t̸.̷

Y̷̛̖̊̆̄́̿͐͌̓͛̓̈o̸͎͆͑͋̂̍̕͘͝ù̷̡̢̱̥͇̟͛̂́̎̏̚͘͠ ̵̧̛̳͉͍̎̎̓̎̏̑͋̄͛͠͝͝ḩ̷̢̛̫͔̗̱̖͑̇̽̄̐̉͛̎̆̋͑ͅą̵̧̝̝̠̱̫͇͚̥͙͍̀ͅṽ̵̟̻͎̰̦̫̺̺̬̦̜̥̗̾͗͆̽́͒͐̚͝ȩ̵̨̢̭͈̳̫̱̱͖̤̠͎̩̐̅̒̔̄͆́͘ ̶̜̯̥͇̣̻̟̝̜̦̀͜ͅͅt̴͈͚͍͚͎͙̫͖͉̬͙̦̋̌͒̉̂̃̀͝o̴̥͛͐̑̌͌͗̎̓͘͠ ̴̘̟̗̰͔̬̮̻̹̘͔̒̈́̔̈́ͅg̷̯̳͙͉͇̮̲̥̃͆͋̃̓͌̅͑̄̍̂͐͆͜͝ḙ̴̄t̶̻͕̗̪̘͌̄̄̀̈́̊̄́̌̈́͐͐̃̐͝ ̷̫̮̗̘͇͚̪̫͖̭͐̂̂̌̓̈́̉́̂̔͘͝o̴̦̰̰̞̜̺̘̺̜͑̂͂͑̄͊͂͝u̶̹̘͙͇̱̜̩͇͉͈̖̲̪̖͙͈̐̌̈́̀̃͛͂̌̒̂̈́̏̉̚͝t̵̡̢͎̟̜̣̗̝̪̬̯̪́͊̑̅͒͛̆́̾̃͐̾̄̌͠ͅ.̸̨̡̩̯͉͇̜̮̤̺̥̘̣̲̇̃͛͌̓̓̈͛

It doesn’t take long till you’re at the entrance, where you dart into a small, tube-like elevator, desperate to escape, just to find solace or help somewhere else before you’ll find yourself in an much more horrible predicament than now. Where you’ll have to reveal something that could be seen as.. more terrifying, perhaps.

As the doors close and the elevator ascends, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched (because you are. Why is a human-like being here?) where the dreadful sensation of unease washes over you. It makes you lightheaded, or make you feel like it. You move your gaze away to look down instead of outside. Taking heavy breaths, you try to figure out what the hell is going to be your next course of action.

There’s cannibals, no other human-like beings in sight, someone possibly with the malicious intentions come up right behind you, no sort of guards here, no hope.

Damn the apothecary now, you need to get out of this.. hell.



Hearing a small ‘ding’ sound that rings out as you arrive on whatever floor it’s mandated to, you find yourself finally opening your eyes after the countless times you’ve tried at least tried you relax yourself and your racing thoughts.

Your hand instinctively finds itself on the intricately designed scabbard by the side of your hip while your brows knit together as you survey around.

No-one as of currently is around, but this place certainly has to be one of business given the multiple tube-like elevators all stationed in, what you suspect, to be a lounge or hallway of sorts. The dark grey tiles are in-front of each of these elevators, which you also notice to have silver insignia’s at the top of them, with the other part of the tube changing into a ribbon red with the same dark grey colored swirls. There’s red wine tinted windows all around, some in front of you having some sort of badges with similar formatting and designs (specifically with the weapons appearing to be made out of the same materials).

The fluorescent lighting is somewhat dim, which you’re more than grateful for. Though, the fragrance of rich perfume which has been previously spritzed all around, or what it seems, isn’t very strong but- reminds you of some sort of hospital scent… just made with some more sweeter and pleasant oils of sorts. There a red carpet draped down the middle of the floor, where you see some stairs and a double-door meeting room.

Lucky guess?

A part of your mind tells you to approach, yet the other- more rational part tells you to not to.

If anything does try to threaten you, you can always be able to unleash some of the true power you hold. As long as these beings aren’t stronger than you, you should be able to take them.

No?

Exiting the elevator, you quickly tread upon the carpet, one of your hands still resting on the scabbard of your sword. It isn’t until you rest your ‘clawed’ hand against the upper part on one-side of the door, do you feel the cool sensation of dread wash over you.

If you await any longer, you’ll look like a fool and be exiled out with no help (probably).

..You find yourself opening the door, and the dread.. subsides for a moment as you survey the room: there are at least 8 cushioned chairs with a softer pink color with a certainly- detailed design. The long ivory table is placed perfectly in the center with a similar design to the chairs, and a dark grey table cloth down the center of it (or is it painted?… you cannot tell).

Theres a projector screen in the back—

“Unsought guests are not allowed on the premises, let alone anyone breaking in without me or any other authorized being who I trust given permission.”

When you hear another voice, your head whips to the cause of it- behind you. You quickly raised up your sheathed blade in a protective manner as you stare at the being:

They’re unusually tall, with light gray-skinned who has their long white hair with black streaks. It’s styled into large horns by thin, ballerina-like black ribbons.

They have a darker-colored marking that appears similar to a mask on their face around their eyes, which have white irises and red sclera. The rest of their arms and hands are colored white, it seems. Something that sticks out to you however, is with their hands being rather large in proportion to their body.

They wear an off-the-shoulder black dress with white buttons and white stripes located down the front and at the rim of the spiked skirt, which includes hot pink lining. They also wear black waist-length stockings covered by white ballerina shoelaces.

“I don’t trespass on your property with any malicious intentions whatsoever. I am only here to ask for some.. assistance. Nothing much— I simply need directions.” Your voice is firm as you lower your weapon. But, you’re still on guard with your shoulders tense and eyes narrowed.

They look down at you for a moment, almost condescendingly before their eyes drift to your weapon.

“And .. I’m just supposed to believe you have no harmful intentions when you’re carrying that around, and nearly insinuated you were going to harm me?” They raise an eyebrow, an almost repulsive expression on their face. You shake your head, before speaking again.

“Understand that this is used purely for my protection. It has become a habit for me to keep it up, knowing I could never be safe in a clearly different environment. Also note that I don’t even know who you are, nor what.. any of this is. I’m not from here, and purely came for where to find out where an apothecary could be around here. I can say for certain I have enough problems, and I’m not looking for any others anytime soon.” Quick. That’s the first thing that comes to the strangers mind as they realize your situation.

But, you can tell they still don’t trust you enough.

“Sharp tongue, hm? Yet you come here without any knowledge of this place, you say? How can I know you don’t work for anyone and are simply here to try and attack, or manipulate me? Why shouldn’t I kill you here and now?” Folding their hands behind their back, they straighten their posture, walking right past you while you turn on your heel to look at them.

“That is the only thing I implore you for. Directions. Then I’ll be right out of your business. I have to figure a way to get back to the planet I was at and finish my duties there as well, so I’m not even staying here long, I’m… not even sure how I got here.” It’s noticeable that your voice drops in pitch a bit, lowering your head as you rest your free hand on the center of your collarbone.

You can tell they’re pondering something as they stare you down.

Aeons this feels awkward.

Perhaps that’s why the sudden dreadful sensation came back to fully drown you in a cool, empty abyss.

Cold sweat is the first thing you feeling as everything becomes muddled. In your vision, white spots start appearing accompanied by a faint ringing sound that gradually gets louder to the point you think your eardrums are going to bleed. A gasp escapes past your lips as you try grounding yourself.

“..How am I to…….”

You know you don’t have one- but it felt as if you had a fever, which grew hotter much to your distaste, it made you clammy. It wasn’t until you felt like you were going to throw up that you stopped feeling the rise in temperature that very clearly did not stop even if you didn’t feel it.

Although you thought that whatever was starting to wash over you was subtle, the being in front of you immediately took note of your sudden shift in appearance and demeanor.

I mean, if you could just look at yourself: You were doubled over, arms wrapped around your abdomen. The way your eyes became unfocused and you slurred your words, trying to respond to their queries even in your current state. How.. thoughtful.

Perhaps you weren’t working with some despicable organizations, such as the Vee’s.

..yes. That has to be true. How do you have such a human appearance otherwise? You obviously can’t be from here… did a human find some sort of rip between their world and this hellscape? No- how do you have a sword???

What caused them to snap out of their train of thought was the sound of you collapsing onto the floor.

…

Goddamit.

. . .

Jolting upward from whatever this newly soft material underneath you is, you find yourself nearly screaming, yet— you were able to realize while thinking about it more- that it could lead to something more catastrophic. That being, whoever was here could attempt to harm you. Keyword: Attempt. And that would be a hindrance.

You know that if they tried.. you’d be able to handle it! (You’re literally a non-human being which is an Emantor of the End.)

..Even with the nervousness causing you to shiver as you heard rapid footsteps approaching the room you were in. How the hell did they know you were awake?

…

There’s a camera in the corner of the room. You noticed from the red blinking light of it.

Three knocks sound out from the other side of the wooden door, before the metal handle turns rather slowly. You find yourself coming to the realization… you don’t have your sword, though your parasol is in the far left corner of the room. You instantaneously looking around in a frenzy, trying to figure out where the hell they placed your sword-

The sudden tossing of something hits your side and you nearly flinch, and instead look down.

..your sword. They had it.

“..Thank you.” Your voice is raspy and it makes you cringe in response, immediately clearing your throat before looking up at the person at the door.

The same stranger from before.

“Carmilla. Carmilla Carmine.” She speaks, finally introducing herself.

“Thank you, Mrs Carmine.” You repeat once again, bowing your head in respect. Grabbing your sword, you slowly get up. Finding your shoes neatly put next to the bed.

“I expect you out of here in at least 5 minutes.” She says firmly before she starts to close the door.

You don’t know what came over you..

“Wait-“ Hastily, you twisted your torso so you’re looking at her. And she stops in her tracks.

..you need to get away from where ever this is. But, perhaps exploring a bit and making some connections here wouldn’t be so bad.

“..I know there’s a way I can make this up to you. For your kindness, I mean. I don’t know where I am, but I can give you as much information as you need about me that I’m comfortable sharing. Please- I need to figure out where I’m going to go from here, I can be a useful asset.”

Who knew this could all happen from a simple journey to find a pharmacy.

Alright so.. i’ve decided I’ll split this up to be a a different part story kinda thing. So this of this as a prologue/Chapter 1

Thank you all for reading!!

Part 2

Taglist: None yet

[lemony-ship-it]

Trick or treat for remrom

Thank you for your unprecedented patience here! Please enjoy it as my blood, sweat, tears, and other bodily fluids went into the making of this fic. I also threw some mulch in there because we ended up with an abundance of it due to unforseen circumstances.

The Hummingbird and the Vine

Words: 6,476

Prince Roman of Escheri rang in the Harvest Ball with the toll of a great, gleaming brass bell that sat in the castle's square. Thunderous cheers erupted and jaunty music began to play, filling the early evening air with merriment and covering the sounds of rioting just outside the palace wall. Strings of paper lanterns and festive pennants lined the cobblestone streets, flickering over happy faces. Sheaves of plucked cornstalks and sunflowers were tied around every lamppost. Smartly dressed people laughed and danced and played and crafted dolls out of corn husks and carved gourds, and yet every year, Roman was forced to walk up the steps of the raised dais and sit on his throne in the royal palanquin.

"Simply perfect, my dear," his mother praised. She said that every time he did this. He gave the same speech each year, did the same movements and scripts like clockwork that the King and Queen expected of him.

"Thank you, mother," Roman replied politely, remembering to sit up straight and prim.

The queen turned to gossip with her courtiers outside and as usual, the King stayed silent and still. Sometimes Roman wondered if the man was still alive.

Nothing ever changed here. Do the speech. Ring the bell. Watch while the world lived and he rotted on his throne. Toast to the country and his lineage and the friends and neighbors who made it possible. Do the harvest ritual. Light the bonfire. Go home surrounded by a parade of party goers and guards carrying festival lanterns. Gods, it was times like this where he missed Remus the most.

Their parents had sent Remus off when the twins were 8 to be a page under one of their most esteemed knights, a vainglorious warmonger under the Weston crest. Both twins had begged and pleaded for their parents to reconsider, that they'd be on their best behavior from here on out, but they fell on deaf ears. The twins were too much trouble together. Of course, they always meant Remus was too much trouble.

"Time spent training the mind and body will make you a strong, valiant general one day, one that Escheri can count on," the King chided. "Your future, the kingdom's future, depends on you turning this misguided and destructive energy into something productive."

Though the boys were equally mischievous in nature, their parents usually pinned the blame on Remus. Roman knew it was unfair and tried to do what he could to spare his younger brother the harsh punishments, but the King and Queen were nothing if not strict. Their parents never said anything about it, but instinctually, the twins knew it was because Remus, though a near mirror image of Roman, had been born with his left leg tightly folded in on itself, which caused him to have a pronounced limp.

That night, they laid together in Roman's bed, sharing tears and clinging to each other, covering each other's cheeks and foreheads and noses with chaste kisses over and over again until their jaws ached. Under the pale light of a crescent moon, they made a pact to never let a week go by without a letter, and that once they met again, they'd never again separate.

That was far more than a decade ago now. Roman thumbed over his heart, making like he was brushing off an imperfection to his crisp, white regalia. What his parents would never, could never know about was that he always stowed the latest letter from Remus in a pocket he'd sewn into his shift. This particular letter had promised surprises, though Remus had neglected to mention what it was. He didn't even mention when, only that it would be "soon."

A sharp rap from the Queen yanked him out of his head. He sat up straighter. "My apologies," Roman said, not sorry in the least.

"Good," she praised, then got back to her gossiping.

Roman sighed quietly. He hoped whatever surprise Remus had in store was actually coming soon.

It wasn't long after that thought that Roman felt eyes boring into him. As a Prince, he was used to all eyes being on him all the time, but this felt... different. His impassive face scanned the crowd. Nothing looked amiss, but the feeling remained, crawling beneath his skin and beading sweat at his brow. A glance toward his parents showed that neither of them were paying much attention to him. One more scan across the crowd and he finally saw him.

A cloaked figure in green, one who wore a jackal's mask, stood in the stretching shadows of a nearby alley to the right, eyes trained on the Prince.

A single blink took the figure and the scrutiny away, but Roman kept focusing on where the figure had been. There was no way anyone could've simply vanished into thin air. Had he imagined the whole thing? Though the stranger had certainly unnerved him, nothing else out of the ordinary happened while Roman was tucked away in the royal palanquin. It did little to assuage him though; assassination attempts were becoming relatively commonplace in his daily life.

His father had become wildly unpopular with their people, thanks to being a rather flippant man who cared little for politics and lacked opinions of his own. Even his mother was despised by those outside their circle for being haughty and stingy. It reached a head when a blight struck many parts of the country the previous year. His parents had been reluctant to part with their more than ample reserves, no matter how Roman protested. He tried to sneak help out, but it was never enough. By the end of it, the people turned him away when they saw him coming. Nary a week went by without some barely thwarted poisoning or stabbing or bludgeoning on both his parents and himself. Maybe that's what this was about.

The thought plagued him as the feast began. He never let it show as he ate the meager meal in front of him, always served at the palanquin and never at the long, boisterous tables set up for everyone else. Too soon, it came time for him to deliver the toast after his father gave his small speech.

He descended from his throne and stood on the ground just outside it, untouched wineglass in hand. After steeling himself and plastering a pleasant smile on his face, he spoke. "My people, it is a great honor to stand before you all today. As we celebrate the bounty of the harvest, let's take time to be thankful for not only the goodwill of the Gods, but in the goodwill of our kingdom, our friends, our neighbors, and those who protect us—" He caught sight of the jackal-masked stranger leaning against a lamppost no more than 20 feet away from him, arms crossed nonchalantly. Roman's stomach dropped. From here, he could see the cocky smile on the man's face peeking from under the mask.

The Queen cleared her throat loudly. Murmurs passed between the people at the tables.

Roman forcibly turned his attention away from the cloaked figure, though the man remained planted in place. "Um. Yes, uh... I'd like to toast not only to my family and our glorious kingdom, but to all of you as well. Cheers," Roman said, faltering at the last word but still raising his glass. Everyone carried on as if he hadn't just royally blundered.

As he climbed back into the silken cage, his mother glared coldly. "When we return to the palace, you will be reciting the proper toast until the sun comes up," she bit.

Though Roman's body felt fiery, he took a breath before saying, "My apologies, my Queen. It seems I was momentarily distracted by a... most unusual attendant. I feel that there may be another assassination attempt in the works."

The Queen shook her head. "Enough excuses, Roman," she said sharply.

"We have more than enough guards to ensure our safety," the King grunted.

Roman bit his tongue, turning away from his parents. He suddenly wasn't very hungry anymore.

As the feast wound down, Roman's already tight chest filled with icy dread. He hated the ritual. His fingers brushed the scar on his palm; it always brought back the memory of his first ritual when he was 9. More heavily, he couldn't banish the smirking image of the masked man. Roman knew he was around here somewhere, but no one else seemed to notice or if they did, they didn't care. Why did no one else seem to care?

The royal sanctuary's clock tower chimed the hour. Each of the nine bells rattled through Roman's skull. His knuckles turned as white as his tunic as he grasped the thick fabric of his pants. Regardless of his wishes, the tolling bell was his signal to begin the ritual. The crowd fell silent, the music stopped, the discord outside the walls became a murky din. The king and queen rose from their thrones, cuing Roman to do the same right after them. As a group, they strode straight down the aisle made by the tables toward the unlit burning pile. Torch bearers fell into step behind them, clad in brown and orange ceremonial robes. Just one step behind them came the bearers of the offerings in brown and deep red, carrying one gourd and one calf, and at the back of the party strode the bearer of the ceremonial dagger in brown and somber plum.

All eyes locked on him as the pile neared. None of them mattered. At the back of the crowd stood the man in the jackal mask. Roman steeled his composure as best he could, but the quickening pace of his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He forced himself to look away, to just look forward and get through this horrid ritual. His parents split in front of the pile, leaving space between them for him. He turned back toward the crowd when he'd taken his place and frantically scanned the crowd with just his eyes, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

The man... he had to be a figment of Roman's imagination. There was no way anyone could move that fast. He took a deep breath and expelled all the unrest in his belly. Of course the man was nothing more than something his mind conjured! The ceremonial procession came into their first position, two out of the three torch bearers standing at either side of the pile and everyone else kneeling in front of them. In the middle knelt the bearer of the dagger and the last torch bearer.

"My people," Roman said confidently, "the time has come to pay our dues for such an excellent harvest this year and ensure our future bounty and prosperity. Through these sacrifices, we give thanks to the Gods who so graciously provided for us. We offer our praise and benediction for the fruits of the earth, so lovingly provided by the Gods and those that move them." He took the dagger and the gourd, carving a perfect hole in the top and setting the seed-laden cap aside. One torch bearer set their flame to the unlit pile, holding it steadily in place.

Roman gulped at the next part. The bearers brought forth the calf and wrangled it to where its neck was splayed right over the opened gourd. He knelt in front of it, licked his dry, dry lips, and placed the blade against the animal's throat. "We offer praise and benediction for the noble beasts that give their lives, so carefully tended by the herders, hunters, and flock keepers," he boomed with false confidence. With a remorseful look to the poor calf, he quickly slid the blade across it's throat, not watching as it's blood pumped into the open gourd. The baby bellowed out, thrashing and kicking to try to get away, but it was held too firmly. It was always held too firmly.

The calf stilled, and the second bearer set their torch to the pile and held it steady.

Roman stood taller than he felt was natural. No one noticed. He set the bloodied blade to his own palm, the sharp metal taunting him. "We give praise and benediction for the children of man, who enact the will of the Gods piously in all they do," he said.

Before he could make the cut, however, a voice cut through from behind him, "I think the Gods want more than blood."

Roman whirled, suddenly coming face to face with the jackal-masked man. Smoothly, the man seized the knife from Roman's hands and slashed his parents' throats before Roman had time to flinch. As blood came pouring from their necks, the man pushed them into the growing bonfire. Without breaking momentum, he lobbed the bloody gourd into the fire at them. Before Roman had even registered them disappearing into the growing flames, the man had already hefted Roman over his shoulder. Before Roman realized hundreds of armored, armed men had flooded the square, they were already far down the alley, hundreds of bloodcurdling screams ringing in his ears.

Roman tried to flail against his captor, to do any kind of damage at all, but everything bounced off the man like he was throwing pebbles at a wall. "Unhand me!" Roman cried. "Put me down!" The man didn't listen, jostling him roughly as he ran far too quickly for any human. It was like being on a horse and going nearly as fast.

Roman's captor brought him all the way to the carriage house of the castle using back alleys and shadowy corridors.

"Ugh, I'm gonna be feeling that one tomorrow," grumbled the man under his breath. He regained his composure to say, "Now then my little Prince, you are not to move or shout when I put you down and you'll let me explain."

Roman offered no response, but the man put him down anyway. He didn't have it in him to fight. Hand-to-hand combat never was his strong suit, and even his own people would sooner see him hanged for the sins of his father than assume the throne after their murder, no matter how hard he tried to make up for it and no matter the help he tried to send. His parents were dead and he was likely to follow in the next few minutes, without ever getting to see Remus again.What else was he to do but graciously bear his throat and go out with dignity? "I only ask that you make it quick," he said, closing his eyes.

"Uh, what are you doing?" the man asked him.

Roman's eyes shot open, staring at the man. "You mean... you're not going to kill me...?"

He chuckled. "I'm not about to kill my own brother," Remus said, peeling his mask off with a grin. "Surprise!"

Tears sprang to Roman's eyes and his hand covered his mouth. "It- It's really you," he breathlessly said.

Remus offered him a hand up. Roman gladly took it, and Remus tugged him up and into a strong, loving embrace. They smothered each other in kisses as fervently as starving men devour food. The brothers held each other for a long while, crying and laughing and kissing and rocking back and forth on their heels before Roman pulled back to drink the sight of his brother in. Their faces were still nearly identical, same strong chin and glittering brown eyes, but Remus now sported a curling mustache, a lock of silver hair on the front of his head, and several healed scars over his impecable visage.

"I can't believe it!" Roman gushed, holding Remus' face in his hands and running his fingers over the now tear-soaked scars. "I— I've missed you so terribly all these years! Ma petite feuille!"

"You're not the only one, hummingbird. I dreamed of you every night," Remus replied, gently stroking Roman's cheek and wiping his tears away.

Roman's heart leapt at the nickname, but his smile quickly faltered. "You... killed our parents."

Remus' smile widened. "Heh, yeah, I did! I don't suppose you'll be locking me in the dungeons, will you?" he purred.

Roman shook his head. "Of course not. I knew one of these days the attempts people were taking would succeed. And you know how mother and father were! They sent you away and kept us from being together all these years."

"I guess that's what one awkward kiss in the stables will do, huh?" Remus said, faltering a moment. "Well that and them hating me for coming out wrong."

"We kept trying to tell them we just wanted to know what it was like and that we wouldn't do it again, but they were never fair," Roman recalled.

"It's not like that was the truth anyway, and it's not like it matters now!" Remus said brightly with a shrug.

Once again, Roman shook his head. "They don't matter anymore, but... what about the kingdom? No one likes our family and I can't even blame them for it."

"Oh believe me, I know. Knights and commoners talk about that a lot. Buuuuuuut I also know how we can redeem you in the eyes of the people," Remus said, kissing Roman's nose, "and even better, we can finally do what we promised to when we parted!"

Roman's heart skipped a beat. "You mean..."

Remus nodded. "Yeah, I mean," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a simple golden ring. "I hope you like getting dirty, little birdy."

"I don't care what we have to do, I just want to be with you," Roman said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "No one can stop us now."

Remus laughed. "I know!" he exclaimed, not holding back his own jubilation as he slid the weighty wedding band onto Roman's ring finger. "No one will get in the way of us again."

"No one," Roman repeated. He hugged Remus tightly. His other half was back, and for the first time in over a decade, he finally felt whole again.

That night, the two got to work enacting their illusion: Roman, the Prince of Escheri, played the captive of the man who had deposed the king and queen. Iron manacles hung heavy from his wrists, and Remus had smeared some mud and blood from the knife on his face to make it seem like there had been a real struggle. Remus had even retrieved the crown from the castle. With a final tender kiss behind closed doors, the show began.

Remus led Roman to the top of the palace walls with guards trailing behind them. The sound of chaos crept closer the higher up they went, reaching a crescendo once they'd crested the wall. Upon seeing the two of them, one of the guards sounded a warhorn, and the crowd grew quiet. That was their cue. Remus stepped forward, tugging Roman forward with him until they could see the masses of people below.

"People of Escheri," Remus boomed in his most official voice, "you were promised much and given little by these paltry royals. While you starved and ailed and toiled for them, they left you hungry, sick, and weary. But their time is over. The tyrants have fallen!" He held the crown over his head in triumph and put it on his own head. Cheers erupted through the crowd, nearly deafening. "And as a final humiliation to the royal family I betrayed, I will claim the crown prince as my bride!" He raised Roman's shackled hands.

The crowd got even more boisterous at that, and Roman tried his best to look ashamed and tearful.

"Today," Remus continued, "we celebrate not only the harvest, but the dawn of a new era of prosperity for all!"

Remus led Roman away to thunderous jubilation behind them. Once they were out of sight and back on solid ground, Remus suddenly stumbled. Roman caught him as best he could, but the pair still came tumbling down with Roman landing on top of Remus.

"Ree, are you okay? What happened?" Roman asked frantically.

Remus just laid there beneath him and chuckled. "The potions wore off," he said, sighing.

"Potions? What potions?"

"The ones that help me move?" Remus replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Roman just furrowed his brow, but moved to get up. Before he made it far, Remus pulled him back down into a kiss. "Let's stay here awhile."

"On the ground...?"

Remus just kissed him again. And again. They were the world's most persuasive lips if Roman had to guess, because 30 minutes later they were still there making up for lost time as they gazed at the stars. They shared stories of their time apart, everything that wouldn't fit in their letters, like how Roman had been thrown off a horse the first time he'd ridden one on his own at 10, how he'd pulled off his final prank, and of the time Remus bested his begrudging mentor when he was 19.

"The man actually believed me when I told him there was a damsel in distress near the boar's cave!" Remus guffawed. "I didn't finish him off, but it's a funny thing about boars, they don't care as long as they smell blood. So I ripped the crest from his tunic and left him there when I heard the snuffling. Never saw him again and no one ever asked for details, but he had a damn fine horse!"

"That's impressive," Roman said, smiling. "You managed to deprive the old loon of the glory he ached for in death. Serves him right, really, a tyrant knight for tyrant masters."

Out of the corner of his eye, Roman saw Remus move. He turned his head to see that lovely mirrored image reflected back at him, confused and delighted. "Since when did you become so vengeful?" asked Remus.

Roman laughed and rolled onto his side to face his brother. "You already know the answer to that."

Remus, in turn, answered back, "Heh, yeah," and rolled with some effort onto his side. "I... might need you to carry me back to the palace. I really overdid it and I don't think my legs will do the job. Well, maybe the right one will if it's not going to be a traitorous bastard."

"Fine, but you need to take these chains off me first," he said, sitting up and reaching over to help Remus do the same. Remus pulled the key from his pocket and slid it into the locks. The cuffs fell to the ground with a light clang. "Ah, thank you." Getting up, Roman picked them up and draped them around his neck and grabbed his fiancee's hands, tugging him up with more difficulty than he would've anticipated. "Gods, Remus, you're heavy!"

Remus cackled as he came up, collapsing against Roman with a sudden, "Fuck!" as his left foot made contact with the ground. A still moment passed, then Remus continued like nothing had happened, "Yeah, that's what hard combat will do to you."

As they started making their way toward the castle, Remus hobbling while Roman supported his left side, Roman asked, "You mentioned taking potions earlier?"

"Nothing too fancy, just strength and dexterity potions. Let's me move without my leg tightening back up too much."

"That's why you were so fast!" Roman concluded.

"Of course! It's rougher to do it on my own, but I could if I needed to for a short time."

"What did wicked Weston have you doing anyway?"

Remus shrugged. "Usual page stuff. Then typical squire things, followed by basic knighting. Lots more conflict than I anticipated."

"Conflict? When did you encounter that? We aren't at war."

"Ah, you've not been out in the streets lately, have you?"

Roman sighed sadly as the chains around his neck clanked in time with his footsteps. "Not with the leash our parents kept on me. I may as well have been a prisoner. Said it was 'too dangerous' since last year. That's when the assassination attempts started in earnest," he said.

"Probably for the best for you. I don't know what I would've done if something happened to you, hummingbird." Remus paused a moment, then said, "I mean, I would tear whoever hurt you apart and make their families watch, but regardless. I took care of mercenaries, mostly. The occasional bandit. Once when I was 18, the beast sent me after the leader of a local thieves guild alone. He never told me I'd be coming face to face with 30 of them."

"That many?? What happened?"

"You tell me. Only one of us came out alive."

"Ree."

Remus snorted. "Okay fine. It took hours, but I managed to pluck them out one by one until only the leader remained. Then after a fearsome battle to the death, I alone remained. That's how I got this neat scar!" he said, pointing to a jagged line beneath his eye. "After that, I guess I kind of became something of a folk hero? Everyone got real candid with me. I heard everyone's distaste for our parents. And..." Remus looked away, "for you, too. I really tried to dissuade them from that. I'm sorry to say I couldn't with most of them. But they rallied behind me and soon enough, I had a plan to get everyone back on our side and get this country built back up."

Roman smiled. "You've really been out there doing a lot of good. It makes me so proud that you're my brother and now my betrothed. You deserve to be the one to lead the kingdom after all that," he praised.

"Without you by my side? I don't think so."

"Of course I'll be by your side but, honestly, what do I know of our actual kingdom? I've seen so little of it, experienced almost nothing of it outside the doors of the noble families, and frankly, I... I don't have any claim to be in charge of it."

Remus stopped abruptly, nearly causing them both to topple again. "You don't seriously believe that." A gentle breeze rustled dead leaves against the cobblestone street as thundering silence stretched between them. Roman couldn't meet Remus' eyes. "Roman, please tell me you don't think that."

After what seemed like ages, he solemnly replied, "I do. At least... that's how it is now. What has a life in an ivory tower taught me about running a country?"

"Did our parents really teach you nothing about— never mind. Because you know what? It doesn't matter. Roman, do you know why I did what I did? I mean, do you really know?"

"So we could be free?" Roman answered. "So we'd be able to wed like we promised?"

Remus chuckled. "That was a pretty big reason," he said. "But I had to do this because I knew that without us ruling together as a team, it would be for nothing. You forget that we get to make the rules now! And what we don't know, we can learn together or just make up."

Roman couldn't help how his heart swelled at that. "That's true," he said. "We have our whole lives to figure this out!"

Remus grinned brightly at Roman. "Exactly! Sometimes you gotta turn your mind off to see what's really there. Works for me all the time!" He knocked on his own head, then motioned them forward. "Now let's get going, I've got about, I'd say, 5 minutes until I can't move anymore."

"What??" Roman cried. "Why didn't you say that earlier??" 

"Eh, some things are worth it," Remus said casually. Giving Roman a lovestruck look, he added, "And you're worth everything."

"You're worth everything to me too, but this is important! Ahhhhh we're not going to make it in time!"

Remus shrugged. "You can just drag me back- Oh!" Roman hefted his brother up over his shoulder like Remus had done with him earlier. "Oh, okay, that works too."

Roman set off at a labored, wheezing trot, clanking wildly down the wide road to the castle. By the time the pair had made it to Roman's chambers up all of those damnable stairs, Roman's legs wobbled as he fell forward onto his canopied bed with Remus still over his shoulder.

"Wow, who knew you had it in you to carry me all this way unenhanced?" Remus delighted.

Roman only weakly groaned.

"Okay, okay, come here, I'll take it from here." Remus pulled himself out from under Roman and dragged him the rest of the way on the bed. He took Roman's boots off, tossed them on the ground, then rolled Roman over onto his back.

Though Roman still felt like he was breathing in fire, he gave Remus a weak smile. "Thanks," he wheezed.

"Tomorrow, let's stay in bed all day," Remus said, smoothing Roman's hair. He took off his own boots, then peeled off his leather armor and leg brace. "Ah, that's the good shit," he moaned, stretching his left leg out as much as he could.

"Bed all day with you sounds amazing," Roman replied, starting to undress himself shakily.

"Your room is different," Remus noted.

As Roman doffed his tunic, he said, "Yes, just a little. I like red, and mother made me earn it." The room, with its Rococo flair, ornate woodwork, and luxuriously upholstered furniture, had all been Roman's own preference. He hated the stoic, sterile Gothic style of his parents, down to the dreary colorlessness of the decor.

"What do you mean 'earn it?'" Remus asked, throwing his own tangled tunic to the floor.

"Oh, well. They made me stay awake and standing for the entire renovation. It was only three days, but..." Roman trailed off. "I wish I could say that was the worst of it after you left."

"Why not tell me about it in your letters?"

"They monitored them, you know. Withheld a few of them, tried to stop so many from going out, but I stole them back. For the past few years now, I've sent them in secret. They never knew I was still writing to you."

"The true faces of evil, huh. It's a good thing they got what they deserved," Remus said.

"Yeah," Roman said. The relief of that reality washed over him warmly. He tugged his pants off and let them fall to the floor, followed by his stockings. Suddenly, Remus' finger was resting over his heart.

"What's this?"

Roman hummed, then delicately retrieved the letter from its resting place at his heart and opened it for Remus. "I keep all the letters you send me, but your most recent letters stay here so they'll always be close to me," he explained wistfully. "It really helped me feel closer to you with all this space between us, y'know?"

"I guess we had the same idea then," Remus said. Roman's gaze drifted to his brother. In his hand was Roman's last letter to him, the crisp white parchment still as pristine as the day he'd written it. "I kept the others too."

"How? I must've sent hundreds by this point! Surely they couldn't have all fit in your saddlebags," Roman said, resting his hand on Remus' thigh.

"They did at one point. The others are somewhere safe, and I intend to retrieve them soon, all 792 of them."

"Where are they? We can ride out together and get them once we've rested."

"So long as we can move tomorrow," Remus laughed, taking the crown off and putting it on the bedside table. "And don't forget, we have a wedding to plan!" He leaned back onto the goose down mattress, making grabby hands at Roman.

"I can't wait to be your proper husband," Roman breathed, settling into the plush bed in Remus' arms.

"That makes two of us," Remus mumbled. "I love you, Roman." He held Roman just a touch tighter.

Roman leaned into it, snuggling closer to his brother. "I love you too." Without anything more than another kiss between them, the pair drifted off into the most comfortable sleep either of them had had in years.

A week came and went in the fanfare of planning the twins' wedding. They'd rehearsed the ceremony by themselves over and over, making sure every line and motion was expertly calculated. Remus directed castle staff in how the event was going to go down, what decorations they wanted, where everything needed to be for the big day. Roman wrote out more than 500 invitations and took care of making what decorations he could from his room. The twins had both agreed that in the spirit of a new era, their guest list would extend far beyond the usual list of attendants. Now that the noble population had been pared down, there wasn't much point to keeping such an arbitrary standard anyway.

Another week passed and finally, the big day arrived. Guests from all over their island nation had been steadily pouring in since the invitations had gone out, and the castle was nearing its capacity. The twins spent the morning with their tailor as the reedy man fussed over the finer details of their attire. He had to admit it was impressive how the man had accounted for Remus' leg brace into the design.

"I must say, my liege," the tailor said, "it is rather... avant garde for you to be wearing this suit instead of your brother's."

Remus just shrugged. "Nothing to say I can't. I feel like the role of the nurturer fits better since it's going to take someone, how did you say, avant garde? To lead our people. A nurturer is also a protector, you know."

The tailor hummed uncomfortably, but got to work closely examining his emerald green waistcoat's red hummingbird embroidery at the cuffs and split crew collar, making sure they were perfect.  Roman tried to stifle a giggle and examined his own outfit in the tall, gilded mirror.

His suit coat matched Remus' in all but color and accoutrement; green vines, flowers, and leaves adorned his flushed red coat, expertly graded into the soft, thick silk. The symbol of the provider. Ten elegant gold clasps fastened the finery together in the front. A delicate gossamer cape attached to the garment at the highest clasp, draped tacitly over his shoulders and spilled to the floor in a cascade of translucent cream. He turned and looked at how the loose, gathered pants bunched at his mid-calf and ended in an embroidered, widely-ruffled cuff. Simple cream stockings and dazzling wedding slippers that matched his suit tied the whole ensemble together.

Roman's heart caught in his chest. He looked over to Remus, who looked back at him quizzically. "This is really happening," Roman muttered.

"Of course it is!" Remus brimmed. "What do you take me for, a cheat?"

"No, never! I just mean... it's all becoming real now, you know?"

Remus pursed his lips and scrunched his brow. He clapped and said, "Malchior, this is truly exquisite work you've done, but I need to speak to my groom alone for a moment." Remus waved his hand. With a grumble about tucking a stray thread, the tailor exited the room with his supplies in hand, bumping past Roman as he left. Roman didn't miss the malicious twinkle in the man's eye as he passed.

"Now with that out of the way," Remus said, dropping his tone to a hush, "there's no need to worry. We've practiced hundreds of times together! What could go wrong?"

Roman shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. "It's not that I'm worried about messing it up, I'm not worried at all really." He turned his gaze back up, looking Remus in the eye with a watery grin. "I'm simply awestruck by all of this. We've waited decades to see this through, ma petite feuille, and now it's finally coming true," he uttered. He couldn't help the tears that welled and spilled over his cheeks, nor the smile that made his face ache from its power.

Remus came over and cupped Roman's face in his hand, wiping the tears away with a pleased grin. "Every day with you is magic, hummingbird, and I can't wait to spend every day with you as your husband." He kissed Roman then, soft and sweet and gentle and it filled him with the fire of a thousand suns. "We're going to bring this country back from the ashes our parents left them in." Remus wiped the tears from his face gently and kissed him again before going to the door.

The tailor followed him back in the room, the spiteful man sneering at Roman proudly. Roman, however, didn't care. How could he, the happiest man in the whole world, care about such a trivial thing as a tailor's opinion of him? Before long though, the reedy man busied himself tucking in a stray thread on one of the red hummingbirds in flight on Remus' collar.

Before long, they were alone again in preparation for the ceremony. They each grabbed a small container housing the ceremonial lip paints and brushes. "Shall I?" Roman asked, uncapping the tiny vessel.

"I'd be utterly wounded if you didn't! Literally, I'd have a knife in my heart, gooshing all over the place," Remus replied, miming the action overzealously.

Roman laughed, dabbing the brush into the ruby red makeup. "Well we can't have that, not on our wedding day." Remus offered his face forward and Roman, before applying the cream to his upper lip, kissed him once more for good measure. "I love you."

"I love you, too, more than you can ever know," Remus replied, bringing Roman in for a kiss once more. Roman quickly finished applying the makeup and Remus did the same with the emerald green makeup on Roman's bottom lip. "There, now you look like a true groom."

They looked at each other and themselves in the mirror. "This is always how I'd imagined it growing up," Roman said.

Remus smiled brightly at Roman, hand in hand. "Well then what are we waiting for?Let's step into our future."

Roman squeezed his hand tightly and smiled once more. "Yeah."

The two were quickly wed and Remus coronated right after in front of a huge crowd of common folk and gentry alike. As the years passed, the twins made good on every promise they'd made to their people and to each other. And though it took quite a long time, the people of Escheri warmed back up to Roman as King-Consort once they realized he really wasnt anything like his parents. Roman and Remus led their country into an unprecedented era of internal peace and prosperity out of the shadow of their parents and lived happily ever after.

[cakeawake]

Veins of Twilight:

After losing everything-your job, your home, and your savings-you find yourself aimlessly driving, searching for something, anything, to hold onto. Days blur together as you stop only to sleep in your car or scrounge for gas with what little money remains. Hope feels like a distant memory until you stumble upon a town seemingly lost in time.

This place, shrouded in an eerie, perpetual twilight, is unlike anything you've seen. Towering Victorian Gothic buildings loom over narrow, winding streets, their dark spires piercing the fog-drenched sky. Wrought-iron gates twist into elaborate, almost sentient shapes, and the windows of the towering structures gape like hollow eyes, watching your every move. The cobblestone streets are slick with mist, amplifying each footstep into a hollow echo that feels far too loud in the oppressive stillness.

Even the smallest details of the town are unsettlingly intricate. Lampposts adorned with lifelike carvings glow faintly, their light flickering as if alive. The air is thick with an unsettling stillness, broken only by the faint rustle of the mist and the distant tolling of a bell, marking the passage of time-or perhaps warning of something else entirely.

Drawn by equal parts desperation and curiosity, you pull your car to a stop. The town seems to whisper an invitation, tugging at something deep within you. Despite the unease crawling along your spine, you step out, your worn bag slung over your shoulder, and take your first tentative steps into this haunting labyrinth. The town feels alive in a way that shouldn't be possible, and you can't shake the feeling that it's been waiting for you.

(Yandere OC'S x gender neutral reader)

Hello and Welcome to Veins of Twilight!

This is a dark, twisted tale of obsession, desire, and mystery set against the haunting backdrop of a Gothic Victorian town. Be warned: this story delves into mature themes, so proceed at your own risk.

Important Notes

Trigger warnings will be provided at the beginning of chapters containing heavy or distressing themes.This story will explore intense violence, psychological manipulation, and classic yandere tropes.While this is a work of fiction meant for entertainment, the behaviors depicted are not condoned in real life.

Content Advisory

This story contains explicit sexual content, so reader discretion is advised. If you're uncomfortable with mature, smutty scenes, this may not be the story for you.

Now, with that out of the way, prepare to immerse yourself in the dark allure of Veins of Twilight, where love becomes obsession, and danger lurks around every corner. Welcome to a world where hearts beat with desire and shadows hide secrets waiting to be uncovered.

[avaricehere]

been seeing a lot of what happened during young justice(I only ever watched the show and even then it was so many years ago) and just couldn't help thinking about how Eleanor would handle this

(credit to @batsandbirdbrains! the specific post is The one where Dick isn’t the step-dad, he’s the dad that stepped up. because they made me cry with angst so now I have to write a drabble to feel better)

Eleanor doesn't think she's been this angry before.

Correction, this is the second time she's been this angry

She comes back from studying abroad to find out that Dick, her little brother, is *missing*. And no one even seems sad about it, they're *complaining* about how he handled a mission.

Now to Eleanor the world is still existing and no one died so who gives a shit if he was snappy. Of course he's snappy, Bruce was in space and he had to handle everything is Gotham *himself*.

Gotham is Not somewhere someone can handle by themselves.

The justice league learns *very quickly* that Cavalry's methods of getting information will involved getting kneed in the stomach or bitch-slapped, so she gets all her information quickly. Including the full story of what happened from Bruce, who is now in med bay after that messy interaction.

She stakes out Blüdhaven. And not exactly in a subtle manner either. Every Rogue there eventually figure out shes looking for something specific.

Or someone specific.

So one night Slade appears, casually leaning against a lamppost. its not exactly rocket science to figure out the vigilante who's only appeared in Gotham as specific backup for Robin is here.

They stare at each other for a long while, before Slade beckons her to follow. And she does, because she knows he isn't stupid enough to try attacking her right now.

So they get to the safehouse, and there's this tiny boy playing with some blocks, and Eleanors heart cracks because he is undeniably Bruce's son. She also recognizes features from Talia.

Slade has wisely slipped out by this point as Eleanor crouches down and removes her helmet, so she wont scare the boy.

"hi," she says, almost a whisper. He looks up at her curiously. "I'm... I'm your auntie, I think."

Because she recognizes those little specific behaviors, and the way the house is organized. She could identify Dick a hundred different ways by looking at where he's been.

The little boy continues to look at her, but she came in through the door, with Slade, so she must not be a threat. "I'm Damian," he tells her.

When Dick comes out of the shower he finds his older sister sitting on the floor, in full armor, playing with his... brother? son? he still hasn't figured it out.

He can only gape as the two are building a block pyramid, Eleanor telling stories about different pyramids as Damian listens intently.

"Eleanor," He eventually manages to say. Suddenly he's small again, and his big sister is checking on him.

He doesn't realize he's moving until he's wrapped safely in arms covered in smooth, cool metal.

"I've got you, I've got you," Eleanor repeats to him, smoothing back his hair and checking him for injuries reflexively. Damian, not wanting to be left out, wiggles into the middle of the hug.

"baba, why are you crying?" Damian asks, one little hand touching the tears on dick's cheek.

Dick just lets out a wet laugh. He had honestly given up on anyone actually going through the effort to find him. And she wasn't yelling. She wasn't judging. She was holding both him and Damian as if daring the universe to take them away. "I just missed her, that's all Dami. She's my big sister, your Auntie Eleanor."

Eleanor doesn't join Slade, but she is still Cavalry. So Dick gets an updated button to send her his location, and Damian gets one too disguised as a cool bracelet.

Of course there's still Tim in Gotham, and while he was an ass he's still also a kid. so Eleanor splits her time between Blüdhaven and Gotham. she would've done it even without a robin there though, Alfred was just as much a father to her as Bruce was and she wasn't going to cut him off.

Bruce gets the cold shoulder treatment, as does pretty much every adult in the JL because *oh my god* you cant just all fuck off to space there's still stuff that needs to happen on earth.

And when Dick comes home late from being Renegade it brings him incredible relief to find Damian peacefully asleep with a belly full of Alfred's secret Mac and cheese recipe and a serving for him in the fridge, along with some other things Eleanor had grabbed because she says they were low.

[maip--macrothorax]

Just saw interspecies allopreening?!

What was very clearly a crow and a raven were up on a lamppost and preening each other's faces (at the very least, touching beaks and around the face) Both were very relaxed, they were not fighting, they were sitting very close to each other and engaging in bonding behavior. Absolutely wonderful thing to see

[echothelover]

Okay, started listening to Mabel podcast on my commute so here's just a few thoughts from the first 3 episodes

‐ Anna you are sooo unwell and parasocial ❤️

-Okay but seriously where is Mabel. Why is she estranged from her grandma. Why is she clearing her inbox so Anna can keep calling but never picking up. The mysteries are already hooking me

-Red lipstick kiss on the letters. Raw-red lips on dream lady. Is this anything? (I know there are lesbians in this podcast and it's PROBABLY gonna be Anna and Mabel. But with Sally's reaction to the letters I am sticking with a "secret gay grandma love affair" theory till proven otherwise)

-Is lamppost guy a ghost? The repeated actions, "Im so lost", the sadness and fear. Ghost behavior.