#plot completely devoid of meaning

[imaginespazzi]

Part 14: The End And The Beginning

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 15

Still a flicker of hope that you first gave to me that I wanna keep (please don't leave)

(In which an infrequently-updating writer finally didn't take a month to update)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff and I guess a little bit of Hurt/Comfort

Words: 9.2K

TW: Swearing (and I believe that's it)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 It's a little past 2 AM but y'all wanted a chapter at an ungodly hour so here it is. It's insane to think that there will only be one more chapter of this fic. In all honestly I did have ways to drag it out for a little longer but ultimately, this felt like the right path to take. I feel like some of this chapter is a little OOC (though my lovely friends have said maybe I'm just being paranoid) but whelp it was for the plot so! Like I said, ungodly hour chapters means barely any editing for now but I will go over and fix things later. In the meantime if y'all wanna point things out in terms of grammar and typos, please feel free. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see as this story comes to an end. Have a lovely rest of your day (night?) my loves <3

June 2033 

Azzi thinks she might have every detail of her rather uninteresting bedroom ceiling memorized by now. After all -for almost 3 weeks now-  instead of sleeping, all she’s done is stared up at it, her mind wandering off to a thousand places, all plagued with the same face. Azzi hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to ache as much as it had the morning after the proposal, when the regret had hit and she’d rushed into Paige’s room, only to be told by KK that the older girl was gone. The days following had been torture, like enduring a heart attack over and over again, the pain crescendoing until she’d gone numb from it. 

But last time there had been no false notions, no open-ended goodbyes, just a clean break and somehow that had been easier to live with. These last few days -filled with the unbearable waiting of maybe today she’ll come back to me- have been worse. Perhaps it’s because of the innate hope flickering like a candle within her. And even though the flame of it seems to get smaller and dimmer every time she sees Paige and the older woman still can’t quite make the promise to stay, Azzi knows that until that hope of hers is either completely shattered or fulfilled, there is no moving on from this hurt. 

Sighing to herself, Azzi grabs for her phone. The screen lights up to countless notifications and she bites her lip when she notices the one from Clémence. Dinner had been uncannily awkward last night in a way that it had never been before when the French woman had been a much more frequent presence in her and her daughter’s life. But in between Azzi being completely lost in thoughts of her and Paige’s conversation in the locker room and Stephie somehow managing to find a way to relate every little detail back to Miss Buecks and her face-falling a little every time she did, well it was suffice to say even Clémence’s attempts as making the dinner more cheerful hadn’t been enough to make the evening less of a disaster. Azzi had almost let out a sigh of relief when she’d finally dropped the other woman off at the hotel, trying to not to wince when Clémence had leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. But cleary she hadn’t been inconspicuous enough -and neither had Stephie, who’s voice had been rather devoid of her normal Clémence related cheer when she’d wished the Frenchwoman a goodnight- and the guilt from the way the other woman’s smile had faltered, still lingers in Azzi’s stomach. 

Chewing at her bottom lip, she swipes the text open. It’s a simple “it was good to see you two again.” and perhaps it doesn’t mean much -maybe Azzi’s doing that overthinking thing again- but there’s something about the formality of it, about the full stop at the end of the sentence feels rather definite. Azzi almost feels like she should apologize for something, perhaps for being so aloof last night or maybe even more. She knows that Clémence had wanted something else from her, had patiently waited for her to turn their relationship into something beyond just casual, something Azzi had never been ready to give to her. But it almost feels too late for any of that and so all she says is “it was good to see you too.” and she hopes that Clémence knows that despite everything, she means it. 

Throwing her phone back on the dresser and now feeling perhaps even worse than she had a couple minutes ago, Azzi pulls her blanket above her head, almost pleading with her brain to just shut off. She’s about to give into the impulsive urge to scream into her pillows, when instead her door creaks open and she immediately throws the comforter off of herself, reaching over to turn on her bedside lamp as she sits up straight on her bed. 

Stephie stands in the doorway, a fluffy teddy bear cuddled to her chest as she stares up at Azzi with big doey eyes and the older woman’s heart constricts when she sees the hint of sadness sitting heavily within them. Her little girl had been quiet all day -really since dinner last night. With today being a rare off day, the two of them had spent most of it lounging on the couch watching movies. But Azzi could tell something was off about Stephie. Her daughter, normally ever the commentator, had been dead silent, cuddling into her mother’s side and barely even chuckling at the comedy scenes. Truthfully, Stephie hadn’t been quite the same ever since they’d left Paige’s that morning -and with the amount of nights she’d snuck into Azzi’s room since, her mother had almost been expecting it tonight- but it seemed like something else had shifted last night. 

“C’mere baby girl,” Azzi says softly as she holds her arms open and Stephie dutifully climbs into them, burrowing her head into her mother’s chest, “what’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” comes the muffled response from her daughter as Azzi gently rubs the little girl’s back, “can I sleep here with you?”

Azzi smiles, pressing a gentle kiss against Stephie’s hair, “of course you can sweetheart,” she whispers, before falling back into her pillows with her daughter still securely wrapped in her arms. 

She continues to brush her hands through Stephie’s hair, listening to the sound of her little girl breathing as she hums a lullaby. 

“Mama,” Stephie says tentatively, after a while. 

“Yeah Stephie-bean?”

“Yes-er-day when we were at dinner-,” the little girl swallows nervously and Azzi’s squeezes her shoulders, hoping it conveys that she’s listening, ready to hear whatever it is that’s been bothering the little girl, “yes-er-day at one of the other tables, I saw- I saw a woman with gold hair and she- she had it in a bun like- like the one Miss Buecks usually has.”

Azzi’s breath hitches, “go on sweetheart.”

“And she- she was-,” Stephie drops her voice down to a whisper, “she was kissing someone who looked a lot like you Mama.”

“Oh,” Azzi manages to get out as she feels her lungs compress. 

“And there was a little girl too and they both gave her lots of kisses too,” Stephie’s voice is small as she says the fact and Azzi has to bite her lips hard to keep in the sob that’s threatening to escape her lips. And she remembers the exact people Stephie’s talking about, remembers the way her heart panged as she’d seen the way three of them -the two women and their little girl- were practically giddy around each other. They’d looked almost like an exact replica of Paige, Azzi and Stephie, not that long ago. Azzi had, had to tear her eyes away from the scene, not wanting to let the tears that were dangerously close to her waterline slip down her cheeks. She hadn’t looked in their direction again. But Azzi hadn’t even imagined that maybe Stephie would’ve noticed that too, that her daughter would’ve felt the sting of the happy picture the same way she had. 

“Oh sweetheart-”

“My friend Anya has a Mama and a Mommy,” Stephie rushes out before Azzi can console her any further, “and my other friend Lena didn’t understand how that was poss-ble cause she has a Mommy and a Daddy like most of my other friends but Anya said it’s poss-ble and that her Mama and Mommy love each other just like Lena’s Mommy and Daddy love each other.”

“Anya’s right,” Azzi says softly, smiling at how simple children make everything sound even though she’s not quite sure where Stephie’s getting at with this story, “I’m sure her Mama and Mommy love each other a lot.”

“Anya says they kiss on the lips- just like- just like the women at the restaurant and like Nana and Pops or like Uncle José and Aunty Tully,” Stephie scrunches her nose as she finally untucks herself from Azzi’s chest, “Anya says that’s what people in love do but I think it’s kinda gross cause kissing on the lips looks kinda yucky.”

Azzi laughs, booping the little girl’s nose, “it does look a little funny.”

“But Anya says her Mommy and Mama do other things too. Like her Mama takes care of her Mommy when she’s sick and when her Mama cries over a movie, her Mommy laughs but then gives her Mama a big hug. And Anya says that sometimes when Anya’s Mama isn’t looking, Anya sees her Mommy looking at her Mama with a big smile,” Stephie stretches out her arms for emphasis as she climbs off of Azzi’s lap to sit on the bed next to her. 

“That sounds sweet,” Azzi says wistfully, still a little confused why she’s being told everything about Anya’s two mothers. 

There’s a moment of silence before Stephie drags in a deep breath as she stares intently at her mother, “I never seen you and Miss Buecks kiss, Mama.”

Her words loom in the air as Azzi’s mouth falls open, everything suddenly beginning to click, “Steph-”

“But when Miss Buecks was sick, I saw you make her soup and make her eat her med-cines even though Miss Buecks said they tasted yucky. And when you cry over Mr. Olaf melting in Frozen, Miss Buecks always says ‘Az you’re so silly, you’ve seen this so many times. How can you still cry at it?’”Stephie recites, doing an almost perfect impression that has Azzi’s letting out something in between a sob and a laugh. 

“But then she gives you a big hug anyways. And Mama,” the little girl continues, “when you’re not looking, I see Miss Buecks looking at you with this big, big, big, smile all the time.” 

“Stephie,” Azzi chokes out, trying to hold herself together. 

Her daughter looks at her with something almost like wonder, “you and Miss Buecks- you were just- you were just like Anya’s Mama and Mommy?”

“Yeah,” Azzi whispers, as she grasps the little girl’s hands in her own, bracing herself for whatever Stephie might say next, “yeah I guess we were.”

But Stephie doesn’t say anything for a while, sitting all quiet and contemplative for a moment until she slowly climbs back into her mother’s arms, resting her head right against Azzi’s chest. 

“Mama,” her voice is small when she finally does speak, “I really miss Miss Buecks.”

Azzi feels her heart constrict, finally losing the battle against her tears as they drip down her cheeks, and she tightens her grip on her daughter, “I know baby. I really miss her too.”

*** 

April 2025

“What are you doing?” panic filters into Azzi’s tone as she watches Paige slowly get down on one knee, her heart pulsating as she slowly begins to understand why her girlfriend had set this whole thing up. Really she should’ve known as soon as KK and Ice had excitedly bound into her room, mischievous knowing smirks on their faces as they’d made her change into something nice before practically dragging her onto the roof. She should’ve known when she’d seen the candles and the pink roses and Paige just a little too dressed up in the midst of it all, that this was more than just one of the older girl’s lavishly planned date nights. 

Paige smiles up at her, either not hearing the distress in the brunette’s voice or perhaps not quite understanding the gravity of it. She reaches for Azzi’s hands, soft fingers entwining with the younger girl’s like their holding onto a lifeline. An unfamiliar sensation builds in Azzi’s stomach, one she doesn’t think she’s ever felt in Paige’s presence before.  

“Paige,” she whispers helplessly. 

“I’ve got you baby,” Paige squeezes her hands gently, mistaking whatever it is that Azzi’s feeling, for simple nerves. 

But it’s not that. Azzi knows this unsettling feeling that’s tornadoing around her isn’t just nerves or butterflies or whatever else it is that one normally feels before a proposal. It’s something much, much worse. Something almost like dread. And Azzi can feel all those suppressed emotions that have been building for the last couple of weeks-the whispers of thoughts that she’d brushed away as nothing serious- suddenly rushing through her body and settling like a large, immovable lump at the back of her throat. 

She remembers the first time she’d felt it, that unfamiliar twist in her stomach. It had been at a press conference after some easily won Big East game with UConn’s Big Three sitting diligently at the media-table. And it had suddenly occurred to Azzi, just as they’d finished their media availability, that she’d been asked exactly one question about her own performance -a respectable 24/4/3 statline- from the pool of reporters. Every other question of the four that had been directed her way, had been about Paige. She’d come to a stop outside the press room, letting herself sit with the thought for a second until her girlfriend -with her bright blue eyes and just-for-Azzi smile- had come bounding up to her. And suddenly, as it always seemed to be when it came to Paige, Azzi couldn’t think about anything else anymore. Not when the blonde was lacing their fingers together and putting her lips dangerously close to her ears, whispering all the sinful things they could get up to that night.

But then it happened again two games later. One question about her own performance followed by a cycle of questions about Paige during a presser where the blonde wasn’t even in attendance. This time Azzi had thought about it a little longer but then she’d chided herself for it, chalking it up to her brain doing that overthinking thing again. It was natural to be asked about teammates, especially superstar, generational, teammates who were likely to go #1 in the upcoming WNBA draft. 

And then it happened again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Until it was the Elite Eight and Azzi found herself, after a 28/5/4 statline and two clutch free throws to win it all, still somehow fielding more questions about Paige -and how the blonde had impacted Azzi’s game and recovery and their relationship as best friends- than about her own performance. 

That’s when she’d finally begun to understand what that twist in her stomach had been. She’d felt sick at the idea that it could be envy -how could she ever be jealous of her Paige’s success- but she’d understood then, almost gawking at the reporter who’d had the audacity to ask her, her fourth Paige-related question that night, that it wasn’t that. Maybe it would’ve been easier if it was. 

It was fear. 

The fear that her own identity in the basketball world was slowly withering away under the weight of her relationship. 

“Hey,” Paige’s voice feels like it’s coming from a distance even though she’s right in front of Azzi and the brunette swallows hard as she tries to pry herself away from her thoughts to focus on her girlfriend. 

“Paige,” she whispers back helplessly, as her eyes begin to water. 

Every time Azzi had imagined Paige proposing -the first time had been when she was 15 and she’d woken up from the dream, almost shaking but still filled with the serene calmness that came from knowing something was inevitable- she had always in fact pictured tears in her own eyes. 

But not like this. 

Because these little droplets cascading down her cheeks that Paige’s fingers diligently reach up to wipe away aren’t the tears of a girl whose dreams to marry her best friend -the love of her life- are coming true. They’re the tears of a girl who’s bracing herself for an inevitable fight when she puts her career before a relationship, when her head wins this fight against her heart. 

Blissfully unaware, Paige continues on, “I’ve um- I’ve thought of this a million times. Actually maybe a billion or a trillion or quadrillion. Point is I’ve been thinking about it pretty much ever since I met you.”

Stop, Azzi thinks but all that comes out is a whimper. 

“So you’d think, considering I’ve thought about it that many times, I’d have an actual speech prepared or something. And I did you know. I uh- I wrote one and then I hated it so I deleted it all and then I wrote another and then I deleted that one too,” Paige laughs and the sound of it, that had once felt like a warm blanket shrouding all of Azzi’s senses, now feels a lot like a wintry chill settling around her body. 

“And what I realized,” there’s moisture pooling in the blonde’s own eyes now, “is that I don’t need a speech. I don’t need hundreds of words. I just need three. I love you,” Paige presses a kiss against Azzi’s knuckles and the other girl shudders, “I love you so fucking much Azzi Fudd. And I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”

She lets go of the brunette’s hands to retrieve a black velvet box from her pockets and Azzi bites her lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood overwhelms her taste buds. 

“Azzi Jazlyn Fudd,” Paige says softly, flicking open the box to reveal a heart-cut diamond ring, “will you marry me?”

“No,” it comes out so soft, almost blending with the wind, that for a second even Azzi doubts she’d said it. 

“”What?”

Azzi clears her throat, “no.”

“No?” Paige repeats, blinking up at her with a mixture of confusion and anticipatory dread. 

“No,” Azzi says again, her voice much stronger now as she takes a step back, the tears freely falling from her cheeks. 

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Paige, still on one knee, stumbles a little as she tries to formulate the right words, “you- you don’- no?,” her eyebrows furrow in confusion, “you don’t want to marry me?”

I do, Azzi wants to scream. 

“I can’t,” she says. 

Paige stares up at her, something akin to disbelief etched across her beautiful features, “what does that even fucking mean you can’t?”

“I just-” Azzi struggles against the jumble of thoughts in head as she tries to piece together a coherent sentence, “I can’t.”

“Bullshit,” Paige snarls. 

“Paige-”

“Do not Paige me,” the older girl seethes, her expression darkening, “you better fucking explain yourself.”

“I- I will,” Azzi stutters, trying to make herself small as she wraps her arms around herself, “can you- just,” she eyes Paige, who’s still kneeling one one knee, “can you please- please just stand up.”

Paige flinches, like Azzi has asked her to shoot an arrow into her own soul. And maybe she had. But she does as asked. The blonde’s movements are reluctant, almost like it pains her to stand up and when she does, the distance she puts between her and Azzi can’t be more than a few meters, but it feels like it stretches the length of an ocean. 

“Explain,” Paige says scathingly.

“I just-” Azzi takes in a deep breath, barely able to meet her girlfriend’s eyes as she forces out the next words, “I don’t want to be known as just your wife.”

Paige lets out an expected noise of protest, “you wouldn’t-”

“You don’t know that,” Azzi cuts her off with a pointed look, “because right now- right now sometimes it feels like all I am is just Paige Bueckers’ best friend. It doesn't matter how many points I score or how many defensive moves I make on the court or whatever else I do on the court, somehow it all leads back to you. And it makes me feel-,” she chokes on the next words, the acidity of them leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, “I feel invisible.”

“Azzi-”

The brunette holds up a hand, needing to finish what she’s saying before she fully succumbs to her emotions, “sometimes- sometimes my entire career at UConn so far feels like- like it’s just an extension of yours. Paige you- you get to be Paige. Just Paige. The superstar. You get to go to entire pressers not having to answer a single question about me or our friendship. You get to have entire articles written about you that have just a throwaway line about me and not have half of it be dedicated to how I’m the driving force behind your success. And that’s how it should be because- because as much as we rely on each other, your success is still yours. But sometimes it feels like mine isn’t mine.”

“I’m sor-”

“No!” Azzi cuts Paige off loudly when the older girl tries to apologize, guilt flashing in her eyes, “it’s not your fault Paige. You- you’re my biggest cheerleader. You always have been. But I just- I need to have my own identity. And that’s already been so hard being known as just your best friend. It’s only going to get worse if I-” she stops, unable to say the rest but even unspoken, it lingers in the air. 

If I become your fiancé. 

 “I need next year to be different,” Azzi says instead, “I need it to be my year. Just mine. Just for once, I just want to be known as Azzi.”

“It will be,” there’s a newfound conviction replacing the previous anger in the blonde’s voice as she takes a deliberate step towards Azzi. Bolstered when the other girl doesn’t instinctively move back, she takes another one and then another and another, until the seemingly never-ending distance between them disappears. 

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Paige says softly as she gently holds one of Azzi’s hands between her own, “and I hate- I hate that you feel this way. But it’ll be different next year when we’re not on the same team anymore right? Out of sight out of mind type shit? They won’t- they won’t ask you about me or make everything you do about me anymore-”

“You don’t know that-”

The older girl continues like she didn’t hear the interruption, “I just- I just don’t understand why you can be known as my girlfriend but not my-” she swallows, “but not my wife? Because Az- when we come out-,” the girl in questions flinches and Paige pauses, her expression falters at the movement. 

A deadly silence clouds the air and it’s April in Connecticut and the spring breeze is just the right temperature. But as Paige slowly lets go of her hands, realization dawning on her face, Azzi thinks she’s never felt colder in her life. 

“You- you don’t-” the blonde looks at her almost accusingly as she takes a step back, “you don’t want to come out?”

“Paige-”

“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”

Azzi casts her eyes downwards, digging her fingers as deeply into her palms as possible, “no, no I don’t.”

“I see,” Paige says slowly, her tone dangerously low, “and how long have you felt this way Az?”

“I-I-” the brunette stutters nervously, “I made- I made the decision after the Elite Eight.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Paige says calmly. 

“I don’t- I don’t understand-”

“How long Azzi?” the blonde sneers, “how long have you had all the fucking doubts about your identity and our relationship? How long have you been questioning everything about us? How long have you bee going through this whole fucking decision-making process about our future?”

“That’s not-”

“Oh no,” Paige interrupts harshly, “that’s exactly it. That’s exactly what you were doing. So tell me. How. Long?”

Azzi gulps nervously, “since the game at home versus Nova.”

Paige blinks at her, “three months? Three fucking months Azzi. You’ve been feeling this way for three months and you didn’t once think that maybe you should tell me? That maybe we should talk about it?”

“I didn’t know,” Azzi says helplessly, “I didn’t even understand it myself Paige. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t even know there was something to discuss.”

“But clearly you did figure it out, Azzi. Because I know you and I know you didn’t make this decision without figuring your emotions out, so why not come to me then? Why not tell me as soon as possible. God fucking hell Azzi- when even were you gonna tell me?” Paige yells, all pretence of calm gone from her body, “if I- if tonight hadn’t happened, when would you have even told me?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything and Paige shakes her head, starting to pace around the rooftop. 

“We had a plan Azzi. We’ve had a plan for four years. As soon as one or both of us was out of UConn, that was it. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just you and and me and we weren’t gonna care who the fuck knew about it,” the blonde pinches the bridge of her nose, “and you’re telling me that for three month- three fucking months- you’ve been questioning that whole fucking plan while I remained oblivious as fuck? Azzi all I’ve done these past few months is tell you how fucking excited I was about being able to call you my girl in front ov everyone. How excited I was to hold you in public and for us to just be us without giving a fuck who could see. And you just,” Paige’s voice breaks, “you let me. You let me do all of that- feel all of that. You let me be hopeful for a future that you weren’t even sure you could see for us.”

Azzi looks away, that rock of guilt settled in her stomach starting to get heavier and heavier with each word that leaves Paige’s mouth, “I’m just asking for a little bit more time Paige.”

“And what happens if that time doesn’t go the way you want it to Az?” Paige asks sadly, “what if we survive the next year but you decide that you can’t be attached to me to start your W career?”

“That won’t happen-”

“You don’t know that,” a sardonic smile appears on the blonde’s face, “I can’t keep hiding forever Azzi. All I’ve done is love you in secret. I can’t- I don’t- I won’t do that forever.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Azzi bursts out, her defensiveness suddenly translating into a burst of anger, “I am asking you for a little bit of time. Not even a whole year anymore. Just a little bit of time for me to establish my own identity and honestly Paige if you can’t even give me that- if you can’t understand why I need this time- then maybe-” she stops herself, eyes widening at the words -word she’d never even expected herself to think of - that are now sitting, like burning embers, on the tip of her tongue. 

“Then maybe what?” Paige asks slowly, but there’s an almost resigned tinge to her tone that suggests she already knows. 

“No,” Azzi shakes her head, turning away from the older girl’s piercing gaze. She looks down at the ground, still covered in rose petals. The wax of the glittering candles littered between them has melted onto them, causing their pink hue to turn into a darker shade of red. And it’s like there’s blood scattered on the remnants of Paige’s perfect proposal. 

“Say it Azzi-”

“No-”

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to,” Azzi covers her ears and she wishes this were a nightmare, wishes she could open her eyes and find herself waking up in Paige’s arms. Warm and soft and loved. 

“Godfuckingdammit Azzi,” Paige yells, “just say it. If I can’t understand why you need time then maybe we should what?” she repeats, waiting for the brunette to finish her own sentence. 

Azzi whimpers, continuing to shake her head, “Paige please.”

“Just. Fucking. Say. It.”

The younger girl swallows, “then maybe we should end it.”

Another beat of silence. 

“Maybe we should,” Paige’s voice is gravelly and Azzi doesn’t dare turn around, not ready to see the heartbroken expression -or worse, perhaps the nonchalant one- on the older girl’s face, “if after all we’ve been through, if it’s so easy for you to think those words. Then maybe we should- maybe we should end it.”

And Azzi thinks for the rest of her life she will wonder what she should have done next. If she should’ve said something or if -when she hears those retreating footsteps- if she should’ve run after her. She thinks, for the rest of her life, she will look back on this moment and dissect every single second of it, that she will wish for the time machine to go back and stop herself from doing and saying so many of the things she had on the rooftop that night. 

But Paige walks away. 

And Azzi doesn’t do anything to stop her. 

It isn’t until the morning after -when her head does finally catch up to her heart and all she can feel is that unfamiliar sting of regret- and she races into the apartment downstairs and Ice’s expression is filled with sadness and KK’s glare is filled with accusation, that she finds out just how far Paige had gone away from her and Azzi realizes, she’s just a little too late. 

*** 

June 2033 

There’s a redhead and a brunette, holding hands and chatting quietly as they wait outside the school. The two women are clearly entrenched in their own world -sharing those warm gazes and bright smiles that Azzi’s just a little too familiar with- blissfully unaware that they are currently being stared at. Actually, perhaps glared at is a more accurate statement because there’s a clear tinge of envy running down Azzi’s spine as her eyes remain laser-focused on the scene in front of her. She hadn’t meant to be doing this of course -nobody really plans to come to pick up their daughter from school and somehow end up stink-eying said daughter’s friends parents for being too in love. But as fate would have it, somehow from where she’s parked, Azzi has a perfect view of Anya, infamous Mommy and Mama. 

They’re sickeningly cute.

And Azzi fucking hates them.  

It’s unfair of her to feel this way; she knows that. But watching them lead the life she’d always imagined for herself, is more difficult now than it ever has been when Azzi had seen them before in passing. Back then, it was just a dull ache of something she craved but knew she’d turned away herself. But now- now she’s had a taste of that life; had gotten to live it out -even if just for a second- with the girl she’d always dreamed of living it with. Until one night and a series of revelations had snatched it all away, and now Azzi’s left with nothing but the bitter feeling of waiting to see if she’ll get that back forever or if it had really only ever been meant to be a fleeting moment in her life. 

A sigh of longing escapes her as she watches Anya go rushing into her mothers’ arms, the two of them catching her in perfect sync. She has the resentful urge to scoff at the scene. It’s all so goddamn dramatic for three people who see each other every day. Except Azzi’s mind is filled with memories that are almost exact replicas of the scene in front of her; just with different faces. 

“Hi Mama,” it isn’t until the backdoor opens and Stephie’s voice fills the car that Azzi finally tears her eyes away from Anya’s family. 

“Hey baby,” she choruses back, turning around in her seat to make sure her daughter is buckling herself in correctly, “how was your day?”

“It was okay,” Stephie shrugs and Azzi feels her heart plummet at how nonchalant the little girl sounds. She misses the sound of her daughter ranting about just how booooring school is, and thinks she wouldn’t even try to reprimand her if Stephie deemed school useless like she used to. Azzi just wants her ball of sunshine, talks-a-mile-per-minute child back because this meek, quiet little girl in the back feels like a shell of who Stephie used to be. 

“You excited for Mama’s game tonight?” Azzi presses as she starts to back out of the parking lot, almost relieved when it seems to cause Stephie to sit up a little straighter. 

“You’re- you’re playing the Liberty right?” the little girl asks quietly, “that’s- that’s where Miss Buecks wanna go? New York?”

Azzi freezes at the question, trying to keep her hands steady on the wheel as she hums in agreement. 

“They’re a good team right? Lots of champ-ships and stuff?” Stephie continues. 

“Yeah,” Azzi clears her throat, “it’s uh- it’s definitely gonna be a good game.”

“Anya’s Grammy and Grandpa live in New York. Not the city-city but close to it,” Stephie says after a moment, “Anya says New York’s really nice. She’s been there lots and lots of times to see her Grammy and Grandpa forChristmas. And she- she says when she went, it snowed lots and lots.”

Despite herself Azzi smiles as her mind drifts to memories of cold Northeast winters. For the most part, they had been filled with dreary chills and darky rainy days. But then amidst it all, there had been a couple rare days of snow and when she’d been at UConn, her teammates had taken full advantage. And just like most of her memories of those years, Paige is front and center of these ones too. The blonde had never been nearly as enamored with the snow as Azzi was, and she definitely wasn’t enamored by it at seven in the morning when the brunette would wake her up squealing that it had in fact snowed and the world around them was white. Despite her grumbling, Paige had still let Azzi bundle the both of them up in winter clothes and drag her outside. And her faux irritated expression hds slowly morphed into one of admiration as she’d flicked the snow off the younger girl’s eyelashes, pulling her closer by her scarf because Azzi I’m so cold, you have to kiss me to keep me warm baby. 

“We don’t get snow here,” Stephie says thoughtfully, unaware of the path down memory lane her mother had just taken. 

“No, no we don’t,” Azzi says, almost wistfully. 

“It would- it would be nice to live somewhere with lots of snow,” Stephie ponders out loud and her mother’s eyes widen as she starts to understand where this is going, “like- like in New York.”

“We could- we could have snowball fight and make snowmen like Mr. Olaf and snow angels and everything else you do in snow,” the little girl’s voice gets increasingly more and more high-pitched in excitement, “it would be so fun Mama.”

“Steph-”

“And Anya said that- that- that- she’d even visit me like she visits her Grammy and Grandpa. She promised Mama, she promised she’d come see me if I lived in New York-”

“Honey no,” Azzi cuts her daughter off heartbrokenly, “we are not going to live in New York. 

“But Mama, Miss Buecks-”

“Stephie stop-”

“No Mama listen,” Stephie protests indignantly, “Mama what if- what if Miss Buecks really needs to be in New York. What if it’s impo-tant. And that’s- that’s why she can’t stay here. With us. Not cause she doesn’t want to but cause she can’t. But Mama just because Miss Buecks can’t say doesn’t mean we can’t go Mama.”

“Sweetheart-”

“And you- you just said the Liberty is a good team and you’re such a good player Mama. I think you’d be good on their team too. And I- I really, really like the Valk-ries and I would really miss Aunty J and Aunty Tessie and Aunty Joy but if you- if you and Miss Buecks played for the Liberty- I know I’d like them too. And I’m sure Nana and Pops and Uncle Jon and Uncle Jose and Aunty Tully would come visit us lots and lots and I wouldn’t even miss them lots cause they’d visit so much. I just know it. It could work Mama- I know it could.”

“Stephanie,” Azzi's voice is louder than she’d meant it to be as she pulls onto their street, “sweetheart, we are not moving to New York.”

“But Mama-” the little girl whines. 

“No Stephie. That’s just-” Azzi swallows the sob stuck in her throat, “that’s now how the world works.”

“But what if I want it to work that way?” Stephie asks softly with all the innocence of a five-year old as she meets her mother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi’s so caught up in her daughter’s earnest wishful thinking that she doesn’t even notice there’s another oh-so-familiar car parked in her driveway until she almost crashes into it. 

“That’s Miss Buecks car,” Stephie whispers softly, craning her neck to get a better view. Her eyes widen in tandem with her mother’s as they both catch sight of the same thing at the same time. 

It’s Paige. 

Paige, whose eyes are sunken in and red-rimmed. Paige, whose hair is tossed back into a messy bun -looking like it’s been in that same one for days- with little loose strands falling out of it. Paige, whose entire body is hunched over as she sits on their front porch, holding a grey hoodie close to her chest. Paige, whose hands are fidgeting with themselves because she can never sit still, especially when she’s nervous. Paige, who looks up just as Azzi parks her car -whose staring at the both of them like they’re still her everything. Paige, who despite it all, still looks like the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Paige, who’s here. 

It’s Stephie who recovers from the shock of seeing Paige first, the click of her seatbelt being unclasped pulling Azzi out of her own trance. The little girl pushes her door open, getting out of her car seat with quickness as she stumbles out of the car. 

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out immediately but Stephie isn't listening, already rushing up the pathway as Paige -her expression hopeful- stands up at the sight of the child running towards. 

It isn’t until Stephie hesitates, coming to a halt just a couple of meters away from Paige, that Azzi draws in a deep breath and gets out of the car herself. Unlike her daughter, her steps are much slower, her movement hesitant and guarded. She knows this is it; knows that this is when all that waiting she’s done in the past few weeks will finally be over, that Paige is either here to fulfill a dream or to start a nightmare. 

Azzi walks up the pathway until she’s right behind Stephie, one of her hands instinctively reaching out to hold her daughter’s shoulder, conveying two messages. One to Stephie, a promise that no matter what happens now, she’ll still always have Azzi. The other to Paige is an unspoken message from a protective mother, silently begging her that if she is here to break their hearts, to break Stephie’s gently. 

“Hi,” Paige’s voice is croaky when she speaks, her eyes flickering nervously between the mother and daughter in front of her. 

Azzi clears her throat, willing herself to reply, “hey,” she pauses, continuing only when the older woman keeps her own mouth shut, shuffling her feet nervously, “do you- do you want to come in?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her cheeks reddening at how quickly the word leaves her mouth and that almost makes Azzi smile. 

She nods at the older woman, her hand travelling from Stephie’s shoulder to instead hold her hand as they walk up the steps together. Azzi’s shoulder brushes against Paige’s as she moves past the blonde to open her door and electricity courses through her veins. From the way Paige gasps, the brunette is sure she must’ve felt it too. It crackles in the air as Azzi unlocks the door, her brain feeling foggy at the mere feeling of having Paige so close after so long. 

The three of them walk quietly towards the living room, Stephie’s hands still clasped in Azzi’s and Paige following closely behind them. The little girl’s grip is tight and despite how young she is, Azzi knows just how perceptive Stephie is. She’s just as aware of this moment as the adults are, realizes it just as much as they do, that they’ve reached a crossroad and the path they take -a path determined by whatever Paige chooses- will shape their future together or apart. 

“I um- I- well- the thing is- I-,” Paige breaks the silence first, stuttering over her words before letting out a soft sigh She closes her eyes for a second and when she opens them, there are little droplets of water on the edges of her eyelashes. 

“I really missed you guys,” she confesses in a whisper, her voice breaking throughout. 

There’s a second of silence as her words linger in the air and Azzi feels Stephie’s hand slip away from her own and the little girl almost stumbles over her own feet as she races towards Paige, the older woman’s arms immediately opening to catch her and as she kneels down to pull Stephie into her her chest. It’s like the blonde’s confession had broken a dam, and the water that came rushing through it, had washed away the last little bit of pretence of nonchalance that Stephie had been holding onto. 

For the last few weeks, every time Azzi’s little girl had seen Paige, be it when she accompanied her mother to a practice or when she was on the sidelines at a game, Stephie had ignored the blonde, maintaining the same angry façade as the one she’d had the morning after that night. But Azzi had seen that resolve weaken over time; had seen Stephie’s eyes linger just a little bit longer on Miss Buecks with that familiar look of yearning. And Azzi had known that resolve was almost completely gone, in the car, when Stephie had all but begged her to consider moving to New York if that was the only way they were going to be able to keep Paige in their lives. 

She feels her own set of tears prickling in her eyes as she takes in the scene in front of her. Stephie’s face is pressed into Paige’s neck, the blonde has one arm wrapped around the little girl’s waist and the other other gently brushing through her hair. Their grip on each other is tight with barely any space for air between them, tears freely streaming down both of their faces. 

“I missed you too Miss Buecks,” Stephie sobs and Azzi notices the way Paige’s hold on her tightens at the familiar nickname, “missed you so much.”

“Me too Stephie-bean,” Paige affirms as she coaxes the little girl’s face out of her neck, cupping it in her hands, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. So, so, sorry. I missed you so, so, so, so much,” she says, punctuating each word with a kiss to Stephie’s face in between. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie looks down nervously, her fingers playing with the collar of Paige’s t-shirt, “can me and Mama come to New York with you?”

“Stephie!” Azzi exclaims as Paige’s eyes widen. 

“Wh-what?” the blonde asks softly as she searches the little girl’s face in confusion.

“I don’t want you to go,” Stephie says quietly, “but if you have to- then can we come with you?”

“Oh sweetheart,” there’s disbelief in Paige’s tone, something almost akin to awe as she tilts Stephie’s chin to make the little girl look back at her. 

“My friend Anya says New York’s nice,” Stephie rambles, repeating what she’d been telling her mother in the car, “and-and-and she says there’s lots and lots of snow and I told Mama that I think it will be nice to live in lots and lots of snow. Mama hasn’t said yest,” the little girl briefly looks back at Azzi with a sheepish look on her face before turning back to Paige, “but I know- I know we could cov-ince her because Miss Buecks, Mama’s missed you so, so, so much too.”

“Has she?” Paige asks, her eyes flickering to Azzi who’s trying desperately to keep her face neutral as she keeps her own gaze firmly fixated on a picture of her daughter on top of the mantle. 

“She has,” Stephie confirms, before using a finger against the older woman’s cheek to get her to return her attention back to her, “so can we come with you? Please.”

Paige slowly tucks a strand of hair behind the child’s ears as she shakes her head, “no.”

“N-no?” Stephie’s bottom lip trembles at the rejection, “why not? Why can’t we go to New York with you?”

“Because nobody’s going to New York, Stephie-bean,” Paige says firmly and Azzi’s eyes shoot towards the blonde, her lips parting slightly as she processes the meaning behind her words, her heart beginning to race with anticipation. 

“Nobody?” Stephie repeats as a question, her little voice filled with hope. 

Instead of answering, Paige grabs the grey hoodie she’d brought with her that had fallen to the ground. She gently un-scrunches it, holding out the sleeve of it for Stephie to look at. Azzi cranes her head curiously to get a better look of it, squinting her eyes when she notices something written in washed-out black ink. 

“You probably don’t remember this because you were a lot littler when it happened,” there’s a teasing smile of Paige’s face as she uses the incorrect word, “but the first time you ever spoke to me properly, you told me, that your Mama says that one day, you’re gonna be an even better basketball player than she is.”

Stephie beams, “Mama says I’m gonna be the best in the world today.”

Paige chuckles, “I believe it and I believed it then too. That’s why,” she points down at the hoodie, her fingers brushing over the material so delicately, like it’s one of her most treasured possessions, “that’s why I had you sign my hoodie.”

“You asked for my auto-graph?” Stephie’s eyes glint and perhaps she doesn’t quite remember what Paige is talking about exactly, but Azzi can tell that it’s stirred up recollections of something. 

“Yeah- yeah I did. And you said, ‘silly Miss Buecks, I’m not famous’ and I said, ‘but if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, you will be. Just like me and your Mama.’ And I meant it. You’re gonna be so- so great one day sweetheart. I know you are,” Paige says with conviction as her thumbs lightly caressing Stephie’s cheeks, “and I- I wanna be right here every step of the way, I wanna be right here to watch you grow up and become the great player -the great woman- that you’re destined to be.”

“You mean it?” Stephie asks, her eyes shining with a fresh new set of tears.

Paige nods, delicately wiping her thumbs under the little girl’s lower eyelid, “I do. I wanna be here, with you and- and your Mama,” she raises her head toward Azzi, mustering a watery smile, “I want to stay. Forever. If you’ll have me.”

Azzi lets out a staggered breath she didn’t know she’d been holding as her eyes remain locked with Paige’s. And suddenly, after eight years spent feeling unfulfilled -eight years spent with this constant sense of being incomplete-, hearing Paige finally say she wants to stay forever, feels a little bit like as if that missing part of Azzi has finally returned back to where it rightfully belongs. 

A loud squeal echoes throughout the living room as Stephie leaps back into Paige’s arms, a large smile stretching the length of her whole face as she buries her face back into the crevice between the blonde’s shoulder and her neck. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” the little girl chirps excitedly, “of course we’ll have you. Of course, of course, of course,” Stephie says in delight before she turns herself slightly in Paige’s grasp, arms still around the other woman’s neck as she looks imploringly at Azzi, “right Mama?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, pursing her lips as she tears her gaze away from the two people in front of her. 

“Mama?” Stephie presses. 

“Give me a second Stephie-bean,” Paige whispers to the little girl, bumping her head against her temple. 

From the corner of her eyes, Azzi watches as the blonde disentangles herself from Stephie, before slowly getting to her feet and walking towards the younger woman. 

“Az-”

“It’s been almost three weeks-”

“It’s been two weeks, six days, five hours and around fourteen minutes,” Paige shrugs, a hint of a smile playing on her face, “give or take a few minutes.

Azzi continues to look away from her, trying to keep her face devoid of emotion, “still took you a really long time to decide you were gonna stay.”

“Well I’m an idiot,” Paige says matter-of-factly and Stephie snickers behind her, “you know me Az. Sometimes these things- they take me a little while to understand.”

“I told you we wouldn’t wait forever,” Azzi says softly. 

“I didn’t make you wait forever,” Paige reaches out to gently grab her chin between her thumb and index, turning the brunette’s face towards her, “just needed a little bit of time.”

“You didn’t give me time,” Azzi accuses and the blonde flinches. 

“I know. I- I should’ve. Should’ve don’t a lot of things differently when it comes to us but I didn’t and I- I can’t change that but Azzi, I promise, I promise I’ll do everything right this time,” keeping one hand cupped around Azzi’s cheek, Paige uses the other to guide one of the brunette’s hands to rest against her chest, “I swear.”

Azzi swallows, feeling the quick rhythm of Paige’s heartbeat under her fingertips, “how do I know you won’t run away again?”

“Because I trust you,” the blonde whispers, “I trust you to stay and I trust you not to break my heart again. And that- that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared anymore- cause I am. Not a lot but definitely still a little bit. But someone once told me that, trusting is really scary but that maybe- maybe it would be a lot less scary, if we did together.”

“They sound like a really smart person,” Azzi bites her lip, “you should probably listen to them more often.”

Paige chuckles, “well if uh- if they give me the chance, I think I’d listen to them for the rest of my life.”

Azzi shudders and she doesn’t know if it’s from the earnestness of the words spoken or the strength of the emotions in the blonde’s gaze that’s still completely transfixed on her. 

“What about New York?” she asks finally. 

“I called the whole thing off,” Paige states nonchalantly, “I had Talia call Jonathan Kolb last night and I explained everything to Ohemaa this morning. Everyone’s on the same page. There is no deal anymore.”

“You-” Azzi gapes at the girl in front of her, “you- you already called the whole thing off?”

“I did,” Paige confirms, not a hint of regret in her voice, “I don’t need an escape plan.”

“You called it off before even talking to me?” Azzi asks, knitting her eyebrows together, “you didn’t even know how this was gonna go.”

“I already told you. I trust you,” Paige says simply, “I believe in us Az and I really hope you still believe in us too.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Azzi’s crashing into her, the weight of her body sending the blonde staggering back a few steps before her hands steadily secure themselves around the younger woman’s waist. A slightly surprised gasp escapes Paige until the sound of it is stolen by Azzi pressing her lips against the older woman’s. Despite her initial surprise, Paige kisses Azzi back with equal fervor, both of them pouring the myriad of suppressed emotions between them the last few weeks into it. And it feels like a cliché, like coming home. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Paige breaks away first, eyes widening as she slowly turns around to look at Stephie who’s practically vibrating with happiness as she watches the two of them, “Stephie-”

“She already knows,” Azzi says with a slight grin, shaking her head fondly at just how joyful her little girl looks. 

 “You told her?” Paige looks between the mother and daughter. 

Stephie smirks triumphantly, “I figured it out myself Miss Buecks.”

“Of course you did smarty pants,” Paige smiles at the little girl but Azzi knows her well enough -is still so in tune with every little bit of Paige despite the time apart- to see the small hint of disappointment behind it. 

“I would’ve told her myself if she hadn’t,” Azzi says quietly and Paige turns back around to face her. 

“What?”

“I love you,” Azzi says and she swears no three words have ever sounded as right on her lips, as those three do, “I love you,” she repeats again and she can feel Paige’s hands shaking as they instinctively tighten their grip on her waist, “I love you so much Paige Madison Bueckers and I want everybody to know it. Stephie, our families, our friends, our teammates, the whole world. I love you and I never wanna hide that. I want everybody to know that you’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.”

A strangled sob escapes Paige’s mouth as she presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “I love you too. I love you, so, so, so much. I’ve loved you since the beginning and I’m gonna love you till the very end. Forever.”

Their lips meet in a searing kiss and it’s unclear if they’re both crying more or giggling more, as they hold each other as tightly as possible. And this isn’t their first kiss, far from it- far closer to being their millionth or so- but still it feels like a fresh new start, a brand new love story but with that same old special, all-consuming, forevermore love that has always connected them to each other. The one that had never gone away, no matter how long they’d been apart. 

“Ahem, ahem,” an exaggerated cough breaks them apart and the two of them turn their heads at the same time to see Stephie looking dramatically at them, her hands on her hips. 

  “So, Mama loves Miss Buecks and Miss Buecks loves Mama. What about Stephie?” she pouts, exaggeratedly stomping her foot. 

Paige and Azzi both laugh, removing themselves from each other just enough to crouch down and open their arms out for Stephie, beckoning for her to join their embrace. The little girl’s attempt at a sour expression is immediately replaced by a cheerful grin as she runs into their arms, tiny hands somehow managing to wrap around both of their necks. 

“You know we love you the most Stephie,” Paige whispers into the little girl’s hair, who lets out a content sigh as she burrows herself further into the two women’s arms. 

Azzi hums in agreement, closing her eyes as she leans her head against her daughter’s, feeling Paige’s fingers intertwine with her behind Stephie’s back. And then it’s quiet for a while, nothing but the sound of the three of them breathing and their hearts beating together in sync. Azzi feels at peace, her mind completely calm, no longer overthinking anything. 

Because now she finally has everything. 

Paige, Stephie, and the promise of a world the three of them can build together, it’s everything. 

[bookishmeow]

I swear, all I am doing lately is defending the Lucanis romance. Listen: When Mary Kirby, his main writer, got fired, the game was in its beta testing. This means that the main written story was done. Beta phases are for making sure there are no graphical or gameplay issues. Not for writing issues. You're past that point. The argument I keep seeing is that they think the Lucanis romance was "unfinished" because of Kirby leaving. Also saying whoever filled in didn't like romances? No, that was Kirby who didn't like them, but she did still write this one.

Lucanis, and the crows, were also written by Courtney Woods. Courtney originally wrote Lucanis in the various shorts, including the ones in Tevinter Nights. She knows the character just as well. So if they needed any extra writing done for the character, Courtney, having been the original writer of him in all the other media he's in, would have easily been able to write anything that Kirby didn't want to. Courtney did also leave, though, before the layoffs. Regardless, writing at the beta phase state does not usually happen. Writing is finished.

The pacing seems off with him because he is one of the first companions you can get and so you can get some of his scenes very early on, before you even get the full roster. THEN he has some of his later scenes after the crows are addressed in the plot in Act 2. These come near last in the actual story plot, right before Act 3 and the point of no return. So it feels like there's a bigger gap in scenes than there is because of this. His romance scenes actually clock in at more time than Hardings. The romance scenes themselves aren't the issue, it is pacing in actual plot that is the issue. Him not being immediately flirty is his personality and him dealing with a lot. He does have flirty dialogue and does make comments on the two of you in banter and ambient dialogue if you go visit him. He's not completely devoid of it. He is not the "Dashing Hispanic" trope (even though antiva is supposed to be Italian adjacent) ala Zevran or his cousin Illario. He has some of the qualities, but is really bad in the flirting with ladies aspect of it. okay, sorry, it's been building. Thank you for reading my ranting.

[kortac-sweetheart]

“you’re quiet. i like that.”

that statement would be true on any other occasion, but when it comes to you— his sweetheart, it couldn’t be anymore false. quite the opposite in fact. silence— when it’s yours is unnerving. unnatural, like the total silence of a forest, absent of wind and bird song and of life itself.

he can’t stand the silence when it’s yours. a home devoid of the sound of you living in it is no home at all, but merely a place where you happen to reside. he needs to hear you to stay sane. it doesn’t matter what it is. whether you’re singing or humming, rattling on and on about your day or asking him about his, laughing with your whole chest or just giggling, he needs to hear you like he needs air.

he hates it when you’re quiet. but unfortunately, it is not a habit so easily broken, years upon years of staying silent, so quietly lingering on the fringes of other people. it’s not like you necessarily mean to stay quiet, rather it simply became second nature to you. to stay silent is to stay safe, what’s the point in talking when you have nothing meaningful to say?

and so he always prompts you to speak. asking you about your day, of that new necklace you bought or the new perfume collection that dropped. he knows the exact words to string together to make you sing (whether literally or metaphorically) because once you’re talking about something you like, you’re not stopping until you completely exhaust yourself or the topic. and it’s exactly what he wants.

talking excitedly, animatedly whilst nestled into his lap and he always spurs you on, asking “tell us why you like it.” or “really? how so?”. he doesn’t interject much, vastly preferring to hear you rather than himself but nodding and following along with your tangent all the same.

it’s like a double win for him, he gets to hear you talk and he gets to learn more and more about your likes, dislikes, interests, mentally taking note of whatever you say.

long, winding conversations that last from sunrise over the horizon to when the stars are twinkling in the night sky are common place. somehow, nikto never runs out of things to ask you, always eagerly listening to you and your thoughts.

that book you were reading? well he’s reading it now too and he’s eagerly awaiting your thoughts on the plot twist in chapter twelve. don’t even think of going to bed on time before discussing it with him, (well, you stay up well past bedtime analysing it with him regardless…)

nikto himself is most certainly not exempt from this either. you always want to hear him speak no matter what. (he could say the wackiest shit ever but as long as he’s saying it in that wonderfully smooth, accented voice of his then it’s a-ok in your book) it’s not uncommon to see nikto pulling you into his lap to ask about what you’re reading, but it’s just as common to see you crawl into his lap asking— practically begging him to read his russian copy of crime and punishment out loud.

whenever you ask, he always laughs. a tender, quiet and gentle thing, always in adoring amusement and never meant to demean.

“you won’t understand it, lyubov.” eyes twinkling with mirth as he squishes your cheeks with one hand, the other holding open his book. you only giggle and smile up at him, just as loving.

“doesn’t matter— just wanna hear you talk, baby.” he hums happily at that, warmth blooming in his chest from the pet name, but he doesn’t argue further (not that he really was) simply picking up where he left off, making sure to carefully and clearly enunciate every single word. just for you.

[starmocha]

‘tis the damn season and deck them goddamned halls [Sylus/Reader ★ 1800 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Onychinus’ base gets a festive makeover. Day 01 — to: my true love (Sylus/Reader) Day 02 — do you want to build a snowman? (it doesn't have to be a snowman) (Zayne/Reader) Day 03 — in a gingerbread house built for two (Rafayel/Reader) Day 04 — you shine like the stars, you light up my heart (Xavier/Reader) A/N: I did not mean to skip this many days. I had an iron deficiency that left me physically weak and unable to focus for days. But I’m backkk now. Gonna try to churn out a few stories to catch up with the schedule. 😭😭😭 I had this idea planned since the beginning of this series, but the other day, the Sylus RP blog @sylus-qin and I ended doing a mistletoe plot too. Completely different from this, but I still wanted to give a shoutout <3 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia 【 request to be added 】

Throughout Linkon City, citizens were getting ready for the merry season. Garlands and festive lights were strung high in the city square, and holiday music blared from stores seemingly nonstop.

The moment you stepped into the N109 Zone, however, you noticed the drastic change. It wasn’t that the citizens of the N109 Zone didn’t celebrate Christmas, but the atmosphere felt much more subdued in comparison to the lively Linkon City. You saw a few decorations here and there. Shops (the reputable ones at least) were doing Christmas-themed sales, and you heard some Christmas songs every now and then.

In spite of all that, though, there was one place in the N109 Zone that did feel completely devoid of all signs of the approaching holiday.

Onychinus’ base.

“It’s so dark and dreary here.”

“It’s always dark and dreary here.”

“Don’t you want to make it festive?”

“Not particularly.”

“…”

“But if a certain kitten wants to ‘deck the halls,’ then by all means, go ahead.”

“You could’ve just said yes.”

“Do you want my card?”

“Yes.”

Armed with Sylus’ highly-valued black card and two of his trusted henchmen, Operation: Turn Onychinus’ base into a holly jolly wonderland was underway!

Since Luke and Kieran both refused to take off their masks, you reluctantly decided to do your shopping around the N109 Zone and made a few online orders for whatever other decorations you decided you needed.

Within a few days, shopping bags and packages full of garlands, lights, ornaments, and random knickknacks were strewn in the parlor just waiting for your creative touch. You beamed proudly, already humming happily Deck the Halls as you lay everything out neatly. A sudden shadow overcast you, the imposing presence looming behind you had you looking up curiously and meeting the amused smirk of Onychinus’ feared leader.

“Sweetie, I gave you my card.”

“…yeah?”

“…did you even buy anything?”

“What do you mean?! I bought a ton!”

“But you’ve only spent $1,000.”

“…don’t you have a gun you need to go bid on or something?”

After shooing Sylus away, you gotten to work decorating every single room, all of the halls, and not leaving a single crevice free from your festive vision. You worked nonstop for hours, commandeering whichever unfortunate Onychinus henchmen who passed by you, and roping them into your Yuletide operation.

“A little higher…higher…higher…too high—”

“Miss Hunter,” Kieran interrupted you from atop his ladder. You couldn’t see his face, but from his tone alone, you surmised he was rolling his eyes at you, about exasperated with the hours of you barking out orders to the twins.

“This was where we had the garland ten minutes ago,” Luke finished his brother’s thought, his tone much more explicit.

“Oh,” you said sheepishly, squinting, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” both twins answered.

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Maybe a little lower—”

They both ignored you and proceeded to hang the garland as is. You huffed in annoyance, but before you could get another word out, you noticed Mephisto perching nearby on a console table. You glared.

“Sylus!”

Mephisto squawked in shock and started flapping his wings, flying away as you chased after the mechanical crow.

“Mephie! I know you were spying on me for Sylus!” you yelled after the bird as you dashed down the hallway, “Get back here, you snoop!”

Luke and Kieran stared at one another, sighing.

Suddenly, Luke piped up, “Actually, maybe Miss Hunter is right and this could be low—"

He watched his brother climbed down his ladder and walked away. Luke grumbled, “So…am I supposed to finish decorating the hallway by myself now?”

“Caw! Caw! Caw-caw!”

“Don’t you ‘caw-caw’ at me, you traitor!” you screamed as you stumbled into Sylus’ study just as Mephisto landed on the young Onychinus leader’s shoulder. He looked up at you, his brow quirking up in question as you continued to argue with the mechanical crow. He sighed as his once quiet study was now filled with the argumentative squawking from both you and Mephisto.

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” he asked patronizingly, interrupting both you and the mechanical crow. He didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement when you turned to glare at him, clearly unpleased with his condescending tone.

“You were spying on me!”

“I was not,” he answered, mildly offended by the accusation. “I’ve been in my study all afternoon.”

“You had Mephisto spying on me!”

“Mephisto is free to roam as he pleased,” Sylus answered calmly, though you still had suspicions. Sylus sighed and motioned for the mechanical crow to leave. Mephisto appeared upset, but he did hop off Sylus’ shoulder and flew out of the room without complaint. You glared at the open door, only turning around when Sylus called your name.

“I’ve already seen your progress earlier,” Sylus said, “Is there a particular reason you suddenly don’t want me to know about your little project?”

Your shoulders slumped, feeling a little embarrassed now, as if you were a child being reprimanded for throwing a temper tantrum. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admitted, and Sylus smiled. “I wanted to see your reaction once everything was done.”

Sylus stood up from his desk and made his way over to you. You kept your sight lowered, too embarrassed to look him in the eye now after your silly little hissy fit.

“Look at me,” Sylus said firmly.

You hesitated.

“Sweetie, I said look at me,” Sylus repeated, his tone sharper, making you flinched before you slowly looked up, surprised to see his gentle smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I’m already touched that you wanted to do this,” he said, “And I already know I love everything that you’ve done so far, so why are you fretting so much? It is just a holiday.”

“Can’t you at least be a little surprised or…” You furrowed your brows.

He shook his head, laughing to himself at your frustrated expression. “Are you upset now that I am not overtly excited?”

“Well, no,” you admitted quietly, “I can’t really see you jumping for joy or gushing or…”

Sylus watched in amusement as you continued to mumble to yourself. “Have you decorated the tree yet?”

“Hm?” You looked up, surprised when Sylus questioned you. Slowly, you shook your head, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

“Then, why don’t we do this next part together?”

“…you actually want to decorate something?”

“No,” he answered, taking your hand in his, “But I do enjoy spending time with you. I don’t particularly care about the activity itself.”

You started to smile again. “Okay,” you said at last, “I was saving the tree for last, but…I want to decorate it with you as well.”

“Couldn’t we—ah!” You startled, frightened as you suddenly felt the ground disappeared and you were floating several feet high with only the tendrils of the red and black mist Sylus controlled supporting you. You gripped tightly the star topper in your hands. “Sylus—we could’ve used a ladder!”

He shrugged dismissively, and casually made a motion with his hand. You suddenly found yourself floating near the top of the Christmas tree, your feet dangling a little, unused to this weightless feeling of being suspended in the air for so long. After half an hour of decorating the tree with lights and an assortment of different ornaments, the only thing that was left was the topper for the tree. You carefully placed the star topper, smiling when it appeared to be aligned straight and perfectly.

Your joy was brief as without warning and within seconds, you suddenly found yourself descending rapidly, your cries stopping only once you found yourself cradled in Sylus’ strong arms, and his haughty face was peering down at you in amusement at your reddened cheeks.

You feebly glared at him. “You—!”

He chuckled. “The tree looks nice, sweetie,” he complimented you with sincerity, and your expression softened, though you were still mildly upset, feeling your heart still racing from the earlier adrenaline you had experienced at his mercy.

“Next time, you can put the topper on the tree,” you half-grumbled. Sylus agreed affably to your words.

In that moment, you noticed Mephisto had flown into the room, though Sylus himself seemed unsurprised by the mechanical bird’s presence. You blinked in confusion, noticing Mephisto was circling above you two, carrying a particular bundle of foliage in his beak.

“Why is Mephisto carrying parsley in his beak?”

“Parsle—what is wrong with your head?”

Sylus lowered his face down closer to yours. He smirked when he saw your smile, quickly catching on that you were messing with him just seconds earlier. He settled you back down to your feet, but he didn’t allow much space between you two. His face inched closer to yours and his thumb brushed over your lips, amused when he noticed you trembling from just the light touch. “Teasing me, are you?”

“I mean…just a little bit,” you said, feeling a growing dread upon seeing Sylus’ smile and sensing his imposing aura that almost wanted to engulf you. You nervously swallowed, wondering what was going on in his head.

“Should a kitten be so naughty this close to Christmas?” Sylus questioned you with a smirk, continuing, “What if good ol’ St. Nick puts you on his naughty list at the last minute?”

You pouted when he squeezed your face. You gripped his arm with both hands, grumbling, “What about you? Aren’t you expecting a lifetime supply of coals?”

“Indeed,” Sylus agreed to your annoyance. He loosened his grip on your face, his touch gentler now as he guided your lips closer to his. His voice was low, soft and only audible to you, “There is one festive tradition I wouldn’t mind practicing.”

“Which is…” There was a growing knot in your stomach, already suspecting that you knew what he had meant. With Mephisto’s sudden presence after Sylus’ earlier suggestion to decorate the Christmas tree together, you couldn’t help but wondered if all of this had been some elaborate ploy of his that you had gullably let yourself be manipulated into. You hesitantly voiced your thought aloud, the knot in your belly twisting tighter at his amused laugh and sudden confession.

“I confess,” he husked, taking your lips greedily for himself. You gasped against his kisses, surrendering yourself to him almost immediately. Lost to Sylus’ relentless kisses, you didn’t even notice when Mephisto landed on the mantle, the mistletoe still in his beak as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Almost embarrassed, the mechanical crow looked away, his head tucked into his wing, as you and Sylus continued to kiss next to the newly decorated and brightly lit Christmas tree, its warm glow seeming to welcome the approaching holiday with wonderous joy.

[accio-boys]

prophecy | fiyero x reader

summary; just a seer, prince, secrets, love, & destiny.

author’s note; I totally knew I had to write something new after reading a whole ass fanfic about star-crossed lovers. fiyero lovers should I do a whole ass fiyero x reader fanfic? But what kind of plot? I also wanna do The Wizard x reader but would any read it? Jeff Goldblum is just ughh…iykyk…Btw everyone, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! REQUEST ALL YOU CAN PEOPLE!

Reserved yet academically brilliant—that was who Y/N L/N was, a late enrollee at Shiz University. She stepped off the small boat onto the school’s grounds, her movements cautious yet purposeful. Her gaze darted around the sprawling campus, seeking a sign of faculty or staff to guide her. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, keeping her head low, trying not to attract attention.

And yet, attention found her.

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure where to go, Mr...?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

“Fiyero,” he said with an easy smile. “Just call me Fiyero.”

There was something about him that struck her. Maybe it was the carefree confidence he exuded, or the way his grin seemed to challenge the very notion of seriousness. But Y/N simply nodded, her expression neutral.

“Oh, okay. Have a nice day, Fiyero.” She turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, intrigued and slightly off-balance. He wasn’t used to being dismissed so quickly—and certainly not by someone as mysterious as her.

Fiyero couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. There was something about Y/N that made him curious, something beneath the surface she seemed desperate to hide. He sought her out, always finding excuses to cross her path, but their encounters were less than pleasant.

“Why do you keep showing up?” she snapped one day after he "accidentally" ran into her outside the library.

“Maybe I just like a challenge,” he shot back, his grin turning mischievous. “You’re not exactly the warmest person, you know.”

She glared at him, her green eyes flashing. “Maybe that’s because I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Or maybe you’re just afraid to let anyone in,” he countered, his tone softening for just a moment before he turned and walked away, leaving her stunned and fuming.

The tension between them only grew. Fiyero’s playful teasing grated on her nerves, and her sharp retorts stung more than she intended. But underneath the barbs and glares, there was an unspoken connection neither could deny.

One evening, during a school event, Fiyero caught her alone in the garden.

“Why do you hide yourself away from me? From everyone?” he asked, his voice devoid of its usual teasing edge.

Her eyes, bright and sharp, flickered with something unreadable. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied softly, turning away. “And I don’t care.”

“You do care,” he said, stepping closer. “You just don’t want to admit it. But I see you, Y/N. You’re not as invisible as you think.”

Her breath caught, but she refused to let him see her falter. “Maybe you should stop looking,” she said, her voice colder than she felt.

But he didn’t stop.

The problem was, Y/N had a secret. A dangerous one. She was a seer, burdened with visions she couldn’t control and truths she often wished she didn’t know. Her gift—or curse, as she saw it—made it impossible to lead a normal life. People who got too close to her either feared her or tried to use her. She’d sworn to herself that Shiz would be different. She would keep her head down, stay invisible. 

No attachments. 

No risks.

And then there was Fiyero.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N’s resolve faltered. Fiyero had found her once again, his presence as insistent as ever.

“I wonder,” she whispered, almost to herself, her voice trembling as her gaze met his.

Her hand reached up, almost of its own accord, brushing against his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at her touch, the softness of it disarming him completely.

Her heart pounded as she leaned in, her lips brushing his softly. The moment they touched, the world seemed to shift around her. But it wasn’t the warmth of the kiss that consumed her; it was the vision that followed.

Images flooded her mind. She saw them together, standing side by side through trials and triumphs. But the vision turned dark, shadowed by an ominous foretelling. One of them would fall. One of them would die.

She gasped, pulling away as if burned. Her hands trembled, and her breath came in shallow gasps. Fiyero reached for her, his concern evident.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and worry.

“It’s not you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me. It’s… us.”

She turned and fled, leaving him standing there, his heart aching with the weight of her words.

Y/N tried to avoid him after that, but Fiyero was persistent. His determination to understand her only grew stronger.

“Why are you running from me?” he demanded one day, cornering her in an empty hallway. “What are you so afraid of?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” he pressed, his eyes searching hers. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. If I let you in, if we…” She trailed off, unable to say the words. “I saw it, Fiyero. I saw what happens if we’re together. One of us dies.”

He froze, the weight of her confession sinking in. But instead of stepping back, he took a step closer.

“And if we’re apart? What then?” he asked. “Do we just live half-lives, pretending this doesn’t exist? Pretending we don’t exist?”

She stared at him, her resolve crumbling under the force of his words. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to know,” he said gently, his hands reaching up to cradle her face. “You just have to trust me. Trust us.”

It wasn’t until much later that she let her guard down, piece by fragile piece. The change was slow, marked by stolen moments and quiet confessions. The bickering turned to banter, the walls between them crumbling with each shared glance and unspoken understanding.

“Would you love me if you knew?” she asked him one night, her voice barely above a whisper.

“If I knew what?” he pressed gently, his eyes searching hers.

She hesitated, her heart pounding. “If you knew who I really am. What I can do.”

His answer came without hesitation. “I would love you if the sun burned out and the moon disappeared. I would love you if the stars fell from the sky and the earth itself crumbled beneath our feet. I would give up everything—my title, my name, my future—just to have you by my side.”

His voice cracked with emotion as he reached for her, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streamed down her face. “Just say the word, Y/N. Say you’ll be mine, and I’ll move heaven and earth for you.”

Tears blurred her vision, but she smiled through them, her heart finally yielding to the truth she could no longer deny.

“I love you, Fiyero,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the flood of emotions. “With bonds no one can break, I am yours.”

He pulled her close, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. “And I am yours,” he murmured.

Their lips met again, but this time, it was a kiss of certainty, of promises made and futures entwined. Whatever storms lay ahead, they would face them together. For the first time, Y/N let herself believe in something more than fear or duty.

She let herself believe in love.

tags; @tn22220-blog

[comfortscripts]

The Way I Love You ¬ Coriolanus Snow

Plot - All you want is one night with Corio, the real him. Pairing - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Best Friend!Female!Reader Notes/Warnings - Corio is ooc in this, but the idea is that he is slightly hinged for her and he is aware of his redflags. Possessive? Mentions of deaths. Reader is lowkey just blind to Corio's darkness. First fic back so let's see how it goes! Word Count - 1,443

9pm

“You promised!”

“And when exactly did I promise this?”

He watched as her fists clenched the corners of her skirt, breath dripping with exasperation. Calmly watching from the comfort of his leather chair, nursing a glass of amber whilst his eyes followed the milky fabric adorning his best-friend’s figure. Almost 30 minutes of her attempting to convince him to leave his opaque penthouse.

“Last year, when you were too busy on my birthday, you promised me that I could choose whatever I wanted to do for one da-” Stilling her movements, frozen as realisation washed over her. “You sneaky fucker! Not once have you forgotten a promise between us.”

Corio wanted to laugh as her face scrunched with faux anger, but all he did was cock his eyebrow as a gentle smirk settled on his lips. “Of course, I didn’t forget. However, this little song and dance has been quite amusing.”

Resting his drink to the side, he rose to full height and reached his delicate hand out towards the girl. “I will agree, purely on the premise that nothing we do could harm either of our reputations.”

A smile brighter than freshly fallen snow crept onto her face.

“You have my word.”

1am

Corio may have noticed the ache in his legs if he didn’t have such a captivating distraction hanging from his bicep. After aimlessly strolling through the Capitol, the myriad of hues illuminating their faces as they spoke of the most mundane aspects of their adult lives to giggling at memories of their youth. Having known one another since the tender age of 10, there is little left unsaid between the pair. Perhaps only one thing.

“I’ve missed you Corio”

Shifting his head to where her figure was pressed against his side, their tandem steps slowed. Only those who understood the inner works of Coriolanus Snow could see the cogs turning behind those azure eyes. Flickering across her face, attempting to decode her words.

“Don’t be silly. We see each other constantly; your office is barely 20 steps from mine.”

 The young woman bit back a sigh. In all the years she had known Snow, he excelled in many things but struggled with matters of the heart. “No, I see Coriolanus Snow constantly. Future President of Panem, prodigy Gamemaker. I can barely remember the last time I had a conversation with the real you, Corio, before tonight.”

Stilling completely, allowing her arm to slip from the loop of his. It was a rare occurrence for the young man to be devoid of words, only having ever been rendered speechless by the very same woman only a touch away. In all truthfulness, he yearned for her presence. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with delight when indulging in dessert, her uncanny ability to understand his thoughts, and most importantly, the way she allowed him to be himself.

He missed her too.

Perhaps it was his silence, or perhaps it was the cool air that unsettled her. Bubbles of anxiety began to rise in her stomach, fearing that she had overstepped or somehow offended the blond. “I only mean that you have sides to you. Whilst I like all of them, the one I care about most is the real you. I’m sorry, but I miss my best friend.”

“I barely know the real me anymore.”

It was truth. Being betrayed by Lucy Gray, the blood on his hands, the character he has had to play since; it was exhausting. The darkness swirling inside of him corrupting his daily thoughts, paranoia and greed clouding his mind. It was all too much to expose to her.

She embodied life, a breath of fresh air in a world torn apart by capitalism and violence. Coriolanus could never understand why she cared for him, why she befriended him. But he could never jeopardise losing her. The darker side of him wishes to lock her up in the Penthouse, so her sun only shines for him. Keep away the prying eyes of men who wish to glimpse the sweetness of her smile. But alas, he cannot. An innocent fragment of his soul forbids his darkness from tainting her, even if he must create distance to do so.

“After all that has happened, the Corio you know barely exists anymore.” Those stormy eyes refusing to meet her gaze by fixating on the gleaming silver ring adoring his finger. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The warmth of her hand sliding into his captures his focus. “If only I knew about what happened during the games? If only I knew about Lucy Gray, and those people you killed? If only I knew how dark your soul feels? I know Corio.”

Snapping to meet her gaze, he feels as if she had knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she possibly know? Why would she be standing here with him? Was she going to hold this over him? A flurry of thoughts stormed behind his eyes, as she only tightened her hold on his large hand.

“Did you really think you could lie to me? I know you better than I know myself. When you came back from District 12, I could see behind those lies you were spewing. I saw the hurt she caused, the trauma you had witnessed, and how it broke the light inside of you.”

For the second time tonight, Coriolanus was speechless. Perhaps she didn’t know whose blood coats his hands, or the exact details of what happened those years ago, but she knew enough. And she was still standing there in front of him.

“And you still care about me?”

“I will always care about you Corio.  Now come on, I want to take you somewhere!”

And with that, she pulled him further into the night.

2:45am

Neither of them had uttered a word since their conversation.

Laid side by side on the refreshing emerald blades of grass as they look towards the stars above, only their subtle breathing filling the air. Despite the silence, the interlocked fingers expressed a thousand words.

A hitched breath broke the still atmosphere of the hilltop.

“Do you love me?”

Her words stopped his heart mid-beat.

“What? Of course, I love you. You are my best friend.” His words flow smoothly, as his thoughts run erratically to concoct the perfect lie.

The grass shuffles as she turns her head to face him. “No, do you love me like I love you?”

Corio continues staring straight towards the constellations, knowing that her alluring eyes could weaken his resolve in mere seconds.

“Because the way I love you is more than someone who loves a best friend. Almost as if you are the only person who makes my heart dizzy with joy. If you don’t love me the same way, it’s okay. Just needed to finally tell you.”

The breeze acts as a ticking clock, emphasising the lack of response from the young man and amplifying the anxiety building in the woman as she faces the stars once more.

Its almost too quiet to be heard, a whisper in the wind, but she hears it clearly. “I do love you the way you love me.”

Turning in unison to face one another, his free hand reaching to caress the toasty skin of her cheek.  Gentle strokes of his chilled fingers, drawing without destination on her skin as the blond builds the courage to speak once more.

“The way I love you terrifies me. You are the only one who brings me happiness, the only one who knows my sorrows, the only one I would sacrifice for. I obsess over you. I want to hold you and protect you. I wish to possess you. All because I love you the way you love me.”

Searching his irises for any fragment of dishonesty, her smile grows as she finds none. Inching closer to the man who has held her heart for a decade, his minty breath invading her senses.

With lips mere millimetres apart, a light whisper leaves her mouth “I’ll be yours Corio, for as long as you are mine. We can possess one another.”

As if those were the only words he ever craved, he intertwined his lips with hers. Soaking in the feeling of ecstasy as his hold on her tightens. She embraced the overwhelming sensation of complete bliss, revelling in every single second as her fingers interlock with his porcelain-locks.

Her lips fit with his so perfectly, it was clear that they were made to possess each other. And now that Panem’s king had his Queen, nothing could break him.

[shreddedhumanity]

── .✦ The Taste Of You ♡

𖥻 Pairings ; Vergil/Fem Reader, Vergil/You.

𖥻 Content Warnings ; Explicit sexual content (18+), reader is fem-bodied (no gendered pronouns are used), porn written without plot, fingering, oral (fem receiving), no penetration, insanely self indulgent.

𖥻 A/N ; This is very self indulgent, I have had this on my mind all fucking week help me.

To say he was wholly consumed by the taste of you would be an understatement—for he found himself tormenting the tender skin of your thighs, left hand encasing you further into his grasp to allow his fingers to enter deeper into you, completely lost and devoid of proper thought. His movements are precise, deliberate—tongue fixed in circular motions on your clit, fingers pressing into that spot that has you seeing stars. A groan escapes from within his throat as your juices coat his fingers, seeping out to drip along his hand, dampening the sheets below. You whimper and moan, hands clasping against sweat coated hair, pulling yet another strained, somewhat inaudible noise from him, the vibrations treading along your skin. 

“V-Vergil,” his name hangs within the air, falling upon deaf ears as he continues his actions, “f.. fuck, right there.” You weep out in feeble, near inaudible mumbles. The appeased hum resonates—meeting your cunt in fierce, tenacious reverberations, seizing another whine from your throat.

His fingers continue to prod at the spot, noting each reaction—the flush of your face, eyes closed, your fingers grasping within his hair for leverage, body glistened with sweat, hips bucking to meet each thrust of his fingers. Each whine and moan drove him further, motivated him to urge his movements to a brisker rate.

For a man who strived himself on such a poised demeanor, maintaining himself in this moment was proving to be a strenuous task. Holding you as if you were of a finer creation, lapping at you eagerly with such yearning. It truly tested his discipline, for with others he was frigid, disdainful—but with you, he was tender, attentive—he was human. 

“Vergil,” you whimper his name, returning him from within his mind. His motions did not falter, instead continued even quicker, drawing out every moan, intent on hearing your noises increase in volume, pussy clenching around his digits. “Fuck, oh god, I’m close.”

The growl that admits from within his throat is sharp, labored and needing. He endures the ache of his cock straining against his pants, as this moment was not for him, but for you. Flushed face, mouth agape, half-lidded gaze resting on his own mellow stare. His free hand traces your body in prolonged drags along the skin, caressing your thigh, trailing up to your hip, before his grasp reaches for your hand, embracing it within a senere hold. 

His eyes encapture yours, fingers continuing to drill into you, tongue meeting with your clit in keen interest. The slickness coats his lips in a satisfying manner, each gush of your essence sends a rush of exhilaration throughout him. God, you sounded so pretty. How he adored you and the noises you made, like a song gracing his ears.

“I’m-..” Your sentence is cut off, the clamping around his fingers spoke for you, ripples string throughout your body, the coil from within you snapping in one harsh motion—the juices coating his fingers and lips, the grip on his hair tightening, time slowing as your body dissolves into the pleasure of your orgasm. Chest heaving, you whine as his fingers pull out of you. 

His eyes peer into yours, lips tugging into—what could be considered—a half smile, satisfaction clear on his features. Prepared, as he always is, he reaches to a towel on the bedside table, cleaning his face up first, then attending to you next. After he is finished, he lays down beside you, holding you close to him. 

“I love you.” The words are gentle, loving—it holds meaning.

“I love you too, Vergil.”

[coffeecacao]

Saw someone critique the fact that you can't get out of elgar'nan's fade loop without Solas' help as a sign that the game is bad and lacking choice like damn what do you mean I can't just not go to Downes ranch so Arthur doesn't get TB? What do you mean I can't not investigate the beacon in mass effect one so Shepard never instigates the plot? What do you mean I can't drop kick the mind flayer in the beginning so Tav never gets infected? All RPGs with unavoidable plot points, aka every RPG fucking ever, are completely devoid of choice apparently

[nhoirr]

QUESTION ! — Do you like me?

Asking genshin impact men the question, "Do you like me?"

Var!genshin.men x reader. WARNINGS ? — fluff.

"No," — "Oh." was what you breathe out, your expression morphing into a wince — the twitch of your smile faltering at his quick response. It takes all of your will power to not just burst into tears right then and there, wishing you had the capability the traveller had to just simply disappear.

"'Like' is a vague word," He adds on, like adding salt to the wound and your expression contorts into a grimace; immediately regretting your actions when you would want nothing more than to forget about this embarrassing moment of your life; to shrink away and crawl into a hole, never to be heard of again. But, you can't help but be curious.

"It could mean — if I enjoy your company, to like you as a person, a friend or.."-something more? He trails off his words, his eyes glazing over to your nervous form infront of him. Clearly on edge with his words, dangling between embarrassment or futile hopes — beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you prepare yourself for the finishing blow of rejection.. But it doesn't come; instead, he speaks again.

"But perhaps.." — Theres a quirk to his lips, his expression once devoid of any change, suddenly displaying his growing amusement dancing along behind his gaze; and so, you can't help but hope that maybe.. "The latter," he concludes.

AN ATTEMPT TO FLIRT OR A PLOT OF LOGIC? — He knows the answer far too well, the moment he felt the racing beat of his heart. The moment his gaze would always come to seek you at every place — it made him sick, sick enough to despise it; at first, he thought it was nothing but a hindrance in the face of his duties. BUT — he realizes that it was far too late to back away, because he already had a taste of what he could lose if he would ever let go. It seems he couldn't let go before the attachments grew far from his control, so he lets himself be free for a moment, to indulge the desires and to quench his longing heart.

♡ — ALHAITNAM, diluc, KAEYA, SCARAMOUCHE, HEIZOU, ayato, albedo, LYNEY

— "Maybe." — "sorry?" Your face falls flat in confusion of what to feel, when the feeling in your chest stirs but also tightens in anticipation.. But maybe? What was with that response—?!

"I don't?" He throws the question back to you and it renders you speechless, jaw dropping on the floor type of speechless. "No, no — what do you.." You try to go about it in a roundabout way, "What do you think of me?"

You knew he was not familiar with things involving trivial matters such as love, he had no such time nor interest in the topic; well-before, that was until you came waltzing into his life.

If he were to compare it to any other stories he had heard before — it was akin to finding your soulmate, completing yourself by finding your other half. Providing the coverage to the areas he knew nothing about — and one of those things were.. love.

"You.. are important to me. I find your company as something to come back to every day as a reassuring reminder that you are here with me, I am comforted with just merely by your presence." Theres a burning feeling bubbling up inside you, and it didn't take a genius to know that you were now blushing; you were sure it showed even more with every word he'd utter next — you shrink back in embarrassment, but still touched no less.

"I don't find my time with you as a waste, In fact.. the days seem to pass faster than ever when you are around. Even so, I don't seem to find you a bother, and.." So he merely answers with what he feels, with what he knows — "You make me feel things that are.. unfamiliar to me," He notes that now would be a good example of that — you had a knack of charming his heart and making him feel sick. (lovesick?)

—and to that, he thinks he finally came to a conclusion that he may.. ! perhaps.. ?!

INNOCENT AND UNCERTAIN — He wasn't sure if it was like or like-like. He had no prior knowledge of this afterall, you were the first to break through the numerous cold stone walls of his. Stealing his heart away before he could retort — he finds himself smitten too, unable to resist the warmth you bring.

♡ — XIAO, dainsleif, kaveh, itto[?]

— "Yes, I do." The straight up response from him knocks the air out of you. He says it so awfully casual that it renders you speechless, your heart beating out of your ribcage — you know its true when he smiles at you. So gently, soft — you could even say so breathtakingly beautiful that you think you're being blinded by the sun, perhaps you saved a country in your last life to have this man be yours.

"Really?" You query, cheeks painted into rose tinted hues. "Yes, really." He replies in court, the atmosphere never felt this much full before — was this what they mean, when they say 'love is in the air'?

"I like you," You confess and you see how his face softens, the wrinkle in his eye when his body leans into you, shoulders slacking when he relaxes his posture; odd, you didn't remember being this close before, "I like you too,"

LOVING, SURE AND TRUE — You finally know that his every smiles are for you. That you are sure of — that for you, he smiles. The smile of his that seeps through every crevice of your world, painting it with colors of the first sun rays of the day your love bloomed. In memory of every butterfly that would erupt in your stomach, to every fleeting glances and the burst of heat burning your cheeks in fluster — a sign that love had bloomed, and spring had come.

♡ — CYNO, venti, KAZUHA, childe, WANDERER, thoma, Zhongli

© Nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!

[ Dividers by @horrorification ! ]

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2024.10.29

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. (Played) Like Clockwork by Ace_Phoenix [E, 3k]

Malfoy masturbated every Friday, fifteen minutes after the lights went out, like clockwork. Harry watched with a hand down his own pants, every Friday, fifteen minutes after the lights went out, like clockwork. And as far as Harry was aware, Malfoy didn't know a thing. Right?

2. After Party by l314159 [E, 3k]

Post Hogwarts, Harry shows up at Draco's flat after a very frustrating holiday party.

3. Dinner Plans by undergroundflora [E, 3k]

Draco has had this little idea just before he and Harry were heading out for dinner.

4. Nosy by rubygreene [E, 2k]

Hermione wasn't being nosy. She was here to make sure Harry wasn't hiding from his well-meaning, concerned friends, wasn't pretending his mood had improved to spare them, wasn't alone, in a secret, unplottable room, suffering in silence and solitude. That would have been horrific, and Hermione couldn't stand it.

5. The Potter Problem by TheCrowCrone [E, 34k]

“I'm sorry.” It was Potter's earnest expression, too open, devoid of any rancor, that drove home the fact that he wasn't himself. He was injured, he was vulnerable, he barely remembered Draco. He had no business flirting with him.

6. The Tale of Willowbrook by Peepsqueek [T, 5k]

Draco had just closed his bookstore when his eyes fell on the storefront across the street. For many months, that store had been empty. Today, however, the lights were on. Today, the new owner was unpacking his wares. Today, Draco Malfoy wondered why the story of his life needed yet another plot twist.

7. Wynthorne’s house by Chocokuki93 [G, 8k] *typo

Because of a stupid bet, Harry and Draco have to spend the night in a supposedly haunted house dodging flying objects, and their own feelings.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Angelfish in the Bottle by Anonymous [T, 28k]

Harry Potter, disillusioned and overworked Auror extraordinaire, is assigned to investigate a Muggle cocktail bar run by one Draco Malfoy. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into Draco's—again. ★ 2024 H/D Muggle Fair | @hd-fan-fair

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: a vampire and a werewolf want to put an end to the war between their families. in their dangerous attempt to achieve peace, they find love where they least expected... pairing: werewolf!mingyu x vampire!wonwoo x witch!reader genre: adventure, fantasy, a lil romance warnings: mentions of blood, burns, cutting, death, killing, suicide & other supernatural themes author's note: the title is inspired by taylor swift's bad blood, while the plot is vaguely influenced by romeo & juliet with the lore loosely based on twilight & the vampire diaries; some song references in italics hehe word count: 6.2k

Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Seoul, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where bad blood makes good hands unclean.

The werewolf Kim clan and the vampire Jeon clan had been enemies for as long as Mingyu could remember. He didn't recall a time when the two families didn't fight over something. There was an unwritten rule that the werewolves shouldn't go into the vampires' territory and vice versa. And for the most part, the agreement was followed. But occasionally, there were casualties. Occasionally, Mingyu lost a distant cousin or an uncle to the feud between the Kims and the Jeons. He was so tired of it. He wanted peace so desperately. Little did he know, he was not the only one who felt this strange longing.

Wonwoo was exhausted of this war going on between his family and the Kim one. He no longer wanted to participate in the pointless fights. He no longer wished to see another vampire fallen victim to the vicious werewolves. He had no idea how it had all started so it seemed completely devoid of meaning to him. Wonwoo wished he could find a way to put an end to it. Once and for all. And just then, as if some magic force had heard his plea, a piece of paper fell into his hand. From the sky. Right there on a balcony in summer air. He was stunned but nevertheless, he read the words written on it, which said:

What you seek you shall receive Go to the golden mountain If you wish your heart to grow Be prepared a sacrifice to give Drink from the magical fountain May all bad blood cease to flow

At the same time but in a different place, a twin paper landed in Mingyu's tent. It was cryptic as hell and it might as well have been a trap. It might be something that the Jeons, those smartasses came up with to cause more damage to the Kims. And yet, he was in such need for peace that he wanted to try whatever it took to find a solution that would ensure a tranquil future for him and his family. He put a couple of snacks in a bag, a few bottles of water and went out into the night.

Wonwoo did a similar thing, gathered a bunch of essentials, only he was caught by his younger brother and sister.

"Where are you going, hyung?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah, you're acting suspicious!" Somi exclaimed.

"I'm going on an adventure," Wonwoo said simply.

"Take us with you, oppa!" Somi pleaded.

"I have to do this alone. It's too dangerous," Wonwoo was firm in his decision.

"Promise you'll come back!" Jungkook insisted.

Wonwoo knew he shouldn't make promises he wasn't sure he could keep. But he owed it to his precious siblings to reassure them that everything will be okay.

"Promise," he said and walked out of the door.

A couple of hours later, Mingyu found himself in the golden mountain. He could immediately sense something was wrong. It smelled like…death and decay. He sniffed aggressively into the air and seconds later he found himself pressed against a tree. By a stinky vampire!

"What are you doing here, Kim?" Wonwoo asked him.

"I could ask you the same thing, Jeon!" Mingyu growled. He tried to transform himself into his werewolf form and yet there must have been some sort of magic inside the golden mountain that prevented him from doing so. His suspicions were proven to be correct when he managed to escape from the vampire's grasp. Aha! He was slower than usual. Which meant he couldn't use his vampire speed around here.

"How…" Wonwoo was shocked by how quickly the werewolf had fled. "Why are you running?"

"Because you wanna drink my blood!" Mingyu screamed as he kept going.

"No, wait…I just wanna talk!"

"Yeah, right, and fish can fly!"

"Some can actually!" Wonwoo pointed out.

"Nerd!" Mingyu cried out and then he saw a big light in the air that said the exact same words in the paper! What even?! Something compelled him to stop running and moments later, Wonwoo hit his nose into the back of Mingyu's neck.

"Ow," he complained, taken aback by the fact that Mingyu was no longer trying to escape. "No way!" he had a similar reaction to Mingyu's upon seeing the mysterious words.

"Wait a second…" Mingyu started connecting the dots. "Don't tell me you received one of those as well."

He was probably taking a huge leap of faith but something was telling him that if the vampire wanted him dead, he would be dead already. Mingyu took out the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo's eyes widened in shock and he pulled out an identical-looking paper from his own clothes.

"What are the odds?" Wonwoo laughed bitterly.

"So…if we both want peace between our families, then I suppose we should work together," Mingyu offered sweetly.

"We might not have another choice," Wonwoo nodded reluctantly. "I'm Wonwoo, by the way."

"Mingyu. I would say nice to meet you but I'm not fond of lying," he tried to joke.

Wonwoo shook his head, amused by this encounter.

Seconds later, the sign in the air disappeared. In its stead was a golden door. Seemingly leading nowhere. Right in the middle of the mountain. How strange.

"Shall we?" Wonwoo suggested.

"Vampires first," Mingyu gallantly waved his hand.

Wonwoo didn't want to waste energy in arguing and opened the door. Mingyu followed him and the two were immediately greeted by the most beautiful creature they'd ever seen.

"Welcome!" you said. "If you've come this far, it means you've already taken the first step towards peace."

"Who are you?" Wonwoo asked.

"My name is Y/N. I'm a witch and it is my purpose to guide you through the seven challenges you must face if you wish to bring peace to your families."

"What kinds of challenges?" Mingyu inquired, suspicious of this whole situation.

"Well, it wouldn't be fun if I told you now, would it?" you chuckled mysteriously.

"How do we know we just won't get killed or something?" Wonwoo insisted.

"You don't. Guess you'll just have to believe that the possibility for a better future is strong enough to get you through these challenges," you explained patiently.

"Did you come up with these challenges?" Wonwoo wanted to know.

"So many questions," you laughed once again. "No, my ancestors did, I'm just a carrier of their will. Here's what I'll tell you. If you work together, you have a very good chance at succeeding."

"Not very reassuring," Mingyu complained.

"Still better than no chance," Wonwoo sighed.

"And if you complete the first six challenges successfully," you continued. "I will help you with the seventh one."

"I'm assuming the seventh one is the hardest," Wonwoo muttered.

"Clever boy," you smirked. "Are you ready?"

"Not really," Mingyu shrugged. "But let's do this."

"Well, good luck, guys. I'll give you a hint for the first challenge. If I eat I live yet if I drink I die. What am I?"

"Huh?" Mingyu looked at Wonwoo in a confused manner. "Any idea what this means?"

"No, but I don't like the sound of it."

You disappeared and in front of the two men, a wall of fire appeared. Great, so the hint was fire.

"So we just have to jump above it. It's not very tall," Mingyu observed.

"No, Mingyu, you don't get it," Wonwoo responded. "I will literally turn into ash if the fire touches me. I'm a vampire, remember?"

"Right," Mingyu nodded. "Well, then, hop on my back and I'll jump. I'm tall enough and I'll make sure the fire doesn't touch you."

Wonwoo shook his head hesitantly.

"I don't know…"

"Do you trust me?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Smart answer," Mingyu grinned. "But do you want peace or not?"

"More than anything," Wonwoo replied.

"Then, hop on."

Wonwoo did as Mingyu suggested and closed his eyes. In no time, the werewolf jumped and the fire was behind the two. Wonwoo opened his eyes and got off Mingyu's strong back. You had returned.

"Congratulations, you have completed the first challenge!" you greeted them cheerfully. "Keep up the good work and peace shall be yours soon."

"Well, that was easy enough," Mingyu smiled confidently.

"Easy for you to say," Wonwoo shuddered at the thought of fire.

"Do you guys want a hint for the second challenge?"

"Yes, please," Mingyu asked, guessing that since the first one was something dangerous for Wonwoo, then the second one would, logically, be something lethal for Mingyu.

"This is a type of color But it’s not yellow or blue You’ll need this type of bullet If a werewolf’s after you," you recited dutifully.

The answer was glaringly obvious. Silver.

"No," Mingyu groaned in fear as you vanished once again. The two somehow ended up in a room. There was only one way out and forward - a door at the end of the room. And in front of the door was a machine designed to shoot silver arrows. How fun. "What are we going to do?"

"Let me think," Wonwoo tried to analyze the situation in a way that would ensure Mingyu's safety. "If I run on zig-zag with you glued behind me, we might be fast enough to go behind the machine and open the door."

"But the arrows could shoot you?" Mingyu gasped in horror.

"I think they won't. The first challenge was designed to scare me and the second challenge is designed for you."

"It's very risky."

"Well, we can't let that stop us."

"Let's do this."

The two began running and surprisingly, the machine started shooting arrows their way. However, it was only capable of doing so in a straight direction, so it didn't manage to hit them once. With some great luck, Wonwoo and Mingyu squeezed themselves behind the machine. Yet, Mingyu was too impatient to grab the door handle, which, was, of course, made of silver. It burned his hand pretty badly but it wasn't lethal like arrows or even worse, bullets, would have been. Wonwoo immediately opened the door and pulled Mingyu with him to the other side.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo asked, overwhelmed by a sudden concern for his werewolf companion.

"It hurts but I'll be fine," Mingyu tried to convince himself as well as Wonwoo.

Wonwoo quickly bit his own finger until a small streak of blood appeared.

"Drink this, it will help you heal faster."

Mingyu looked at Wonwoo doubtfully but went ahead. In no time, the burns disappeared and his hand no longer hurt.

"Wow, thanks a lot!"

"Thank me when we've completed all challenges," Wonwoo puts his hand on Mingyu's shoulder in a friendly manner.

You once again surprised them with your sudden arrival.

"Two in a row! You're really something else," you cheered them on loudly. "I was about to offer some healing herbs but the vampire beat me to it."

Wonwoo bowed dramatically, making Mingyu and you laugh.

"I won't ask whether you need a hint, because I'm feeling generous. I’m often running, yet I have no legs. You need me, but I don’t need you. What am I?"

"Ugh, another riddle," Mingyu was so done with them.

In front of the two men appeared a table. On the table, there were two cups filled with some kind of liquid. Next to the cups was a note:

"One may kill a vampire. Another may kill a werewolf. Drink all to move forward. Drink none to stay behind."

"I'm guessing one has vervain and the other wolfsbane. We drink the wrong cup, we both die. We drink the right one, we go to the next challenge," Mingyu started thinking out loud.

"What if I drink both cups?" Wonwoo suggested boldly. "That way I can ensure that you will move forward."

"Are you crazy?" Mingyu exclaimed. "First of all, there is no guarantee the witch will allow me to do the rest of the challenges by myself. Second of all, there is no guarantee I will succeed without you. Third of all…I don't wanna do this alone."

Mingyu sounded so vulnerable and like a lost puppy in that moment that Wonwoo felt so bad he cursed himself for offering something so dark in the first place.

"You're right, sorry I mentioned it. Do you have any better ideas?"

"Let's think about the riddle instead of rushing to poison ourselves," Mingyu replied. "I'm often running, yet I have no legs. You need me, but I don't need you…"

"But of course!" Wonwoo shouted triumphantly. "Water! It's just a trick, Mingyu. There is nothing but water in both cups!"

Mingyu eyed the two cups suspiciously.

"They don't smell like anything," he pointed out.

"Do you trust me?" Wonwoo repeated Mingyu's question from earlier.

"Not even a little bit," Mingyu teased. Even though a part of him was beginning to…

"Great. Drink up."

"Oh, what the hell." Mingyu and Wonwoo both grabbed a cup at random and downed them in one go. Nothing. No burn. No pain. No death. Just plain old water.

They both let out a sigh of relief and started laughing.

"We did it! We passed the third challenge!" they grabbed each other's hands happily and started jumping in circles.

You appeared yet again to congratulate them.

"You two are so smart, I'm genuinely impressed!"

Wonwoo and Mingyu let go of one another's hands, as if embarrassed that the witch witnessed a vampire and a werewolf behaving like this.

"How about a little break?" you offered.

"Not another challenge?

"Nope. Just a small something to reward you for getting so far."

Mingyu and Wonwoo exchanged a look.

"How do you plan to reward us?" Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.

"What would you like?" you smiled mischievously.

"Something more useful than those riddles," Mingyu asked.

"Okay, okay, no more riddles. Wonwoo?"

"Help us in the sixth challenge, as well. Not just the seventh one."

"Ambitious. I like that. Alright, then. Make sure you pass the fourth and fifth and I will give you a real advantage in the grand finale. Now, how about a snack to gather your strength?" you said and handed Mingyu a couple of big, juicy hamburgers. The werewolf gulped the first one hungrily.

"I'm a vampire, this is like plastic to me," Wonwoo complained.

"I know, silly," you chuckled and offered your wrist. "Come on, help yourself."

"How do I know it's not a trick?"

"Why would it be a trick?" you blinked at him innocently. "Mingyu already ate his burger and he's still safe."

"It's just a burger. I don't think the blood of a witch has the same value."

"Aw, I'm touched," you cooed. "Fine, suit yourself, then. Starve if you want."

Wonwoo shook his head, determined to reject the temptation.

"I'm not hungry."

Your smile suddenly transformed into a quite sinister one.

"Good. You just passed the fourth challenge."

"W-what?" Mingyu, who'd just swallowed the last bite of the third burger, asked in shock. "But…we didn't do anything, did we?"

"Wonwoo did," you explained. "The virtue of restraint is incredibly rare among vampires nowadays. Him rejecting my blood so easily shows that he is truly determined to achieve peace."

"But…me eating the burgers is okay, right?" Mingyu kept worrying.

"It's okay, Mingyu, don't worry," you laughed. "Still, previous participants never made it this far."

"Wait…we're not the first ones?" Wonwoo was shocked. "Others from our clans have tried these challenges before?"

"Of course. They all failed, though. These challenges are held once every seven years. Since…since the feud between your two families began."

"But…why?" Mingyu asked.

"I'll tell you if you make it to the end."

"Is the fifth challenge a hidden one like the fourth? I mean…you said we were having a short break, I didn't even know it was a test," Wonwoo complained.

"You asked for no more riddles. You didn't say anything about tricks," you pouted, the picture of blamelessness.

"Witches, man," Mingyu murmured, causing Wonwoo to smile. You didn't look offended by these words, considering the circumstances. Still, you were just doing your job, so you refused to feel bad for it. Besides, you genuinely believed that your actions would help them succeed. You wanted peace just as badly. For your own reasons.

Suddenly, the full moon shone brightly in the sky.

"Oh, come on," Mingyu groaned, as he felt overpowered by his transformation into his wolf form. It was more painful than usual and he experienced such intense anger towards everyone and everything. He wanted to ravage the vampire and the witch. Consequences be damned.

"Control it, Mingyu," Wonwoo tried to calm him down as he saw the werewolf approaching him and you like a predator stalking his prey. "It's just another trick. You have to show restraint, like I did. We're so close to success, don't give up now."

"You know what they say. A wolf can change his coat but not his character," you laughed maniacally.

"Stop goading him!" Wonwoo reprimanded you. "Mingyu. Remember why we're here. Remember what we both want. Peace."

It was like that one short magical word unlocked something inside the werewolf. His eyes that were full of rage seconds ago became full of warmth, kindness and hope. And in no time, Mingyu was back in his human form.

"Peace," he repeated, shivering, as the poor guy was naked after returning to his humanity.

You snapped your fingers and by magic, his clothes were back on him.

"Astonishing. I've never witnessed anything like this before," you were truly amazed by their willpower.

"I take it the fifth challenge was a success?" Mingyu wanted to make sure.

"Not only a success. It was your golden ticket to the grand finale," you beamed with excitement.

"So, what is the sixth challenge?" Wonwoo inquired.

"You'll have to fight each other. The winner gets to move forward to the seventh challenge."

"Excuse me?" Mingyu cried out indignantly. "We didn't go this far only to end up hurting one another, we're supposed to go through these challenges together!"

"You promised you'll help us!" Wonwoo was also flabbergasted by the turn of events.

"And I will, relax. I'll give you a hint. The challenge requires you to fight. That's all it says. Nothing about killing," you winked and once again disappeared.

"Damn, she's got to stop doing that," Mingyu complained. "So cryptic."

Wonwoo laughed quietly.

"I don't wanna wolf out on you," Mingyu confessed.

"And I don't wanna suck you dry," Wonwoo responded.

"So what now? How do we fight each other without harm? How do we decide on a winner to go to the final challenge?" Mingyu was panicking as he couldn't seem to find a solution.

"Look, there's the table from the cups of water challenge!" Wonwoo observed, surprised by its return.

"But of course!" Mingyu exclaimed. "We can arm wrestle. A fight without killing."

"You're a genius! Just don't break my arm, alright?" Wonwoo smiled.

"No promises," Mingyu teased and the two knelt on two sides of the table. Mingyu easily defeated Wonwoo and then they were confused that nothing was happening. No seventh challenge.

"Maybe we're both meant to win to move forward?" Wonwoo suggested. "Like you said, these challenges ought to be done together for true peace to be achieved."

"Oh! Right!" Mingyu took hold of Wonwoo's hand once again, not putting any strength into his grasp this time. "Go easy on me, night kitten."

"Right back at you, moon puppy," Wonwoo teased back and as Mingyu allowed himself to be defeated, a large sign lit up the sky, announcing the beginning of the seventh challenge.

"Grand finale, here we come," Mingyu declared in amazement that they'd gotten this far.

You greeted them as enthusiastically as ever:

"It truly is a wonder you made it to the seventh challenge, I can't believe the peace between your families is so close."

"It's too early to celebrate," Wonwoo, ever the realist, observed. "The final one is the hardest, no?"

"Yes, but I intend to keep my promise and give you a strong advantage. As it was hinted at in the piece of paper you received, you have to be prepared for a sacrifice. Only that will put an end to the bad blood between the Kims and the Jeons."

"What kind of sacrifice?" Mingyu asked, already anticipating the worst.

"A blood one," you stated grimly.

"You've got to be kidding me," Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

"We don't want to kill each other, I thought it was clear we came here looking for peace!" Mingyu cried out.

"I know you grew attached to one another throughout the course of these challenges," you nodded morosely. "However, the prophecy doesn't specify who has to be sacrificed. You…you can kill me, instead."

You gently placed two daggers in their hands.

Wonwoo and Mingyu were beyond appalled by your suggestion.

"But…you're just doing your job," Wonwoo murmured. "Why would we kill you when you helped us get this far?"

"Yeah, I'm with Wonwoo," Mingyu was adamant. "You didn't do anything wrong to us. There has to be another way."

"It's the only way," you announced, your eyes tearing up. "If you don't do this, you'll fail the seventh challenge and you'll be automatically turned into ash like all the previous participants were when they couldn't pass one of the challenges. Don't you want peace more than anything? I'm not important, just one life that could potentially save the lives of many vampires and werewolves. Is this not why you came here?"

Mingyu and Wonwoo looked at each other, weighing out the pros and cons. The witch's point was a solid one. But was it really worth it? They would have to endure the rest of their lives haunted by what they'd done…Was it really peace if it was marred with innocent blood?

"I'm not doing it," Wonwoo decided and dropped the dagger.

"Yeah, me neither," Mingyu agreed and let go of the weapon.

"Even if you die instead by the design of these challenges?" you were amazed by their willingness to sacrifice themselves, to abandon their cause just to save her - a witch they'd just met.

"Even so," Wonwoo confirmed his previous decision.

"How much time do we have?" Mingyu wanted to know.

"I don't know. Like I said, no one's ever gotten this far," you admitted.

"Can't we try something else? These challenges were full of loopholes and tricks and whatnot. Maybe another kind of sacrifice?" Wonwoo kept trying to think of a way out.

"I've got some snacks in my bag? And water?" Mingyu suggested.

"I'm pretty sure my ancestors would not be satisfied with snacks," you chuckled bitterly.

"Be prepared a sacrifice to give Drink from the magical fountain May all bad blood cease to flow…" Wonwoo repeated the last lines of the prophecy.

"We did drink from cups of water but there was no magical fountain so far," Mingyu mused out loud.

"That's true," you replied. "And there's the sacrifice and blood part…maybe I'm reading this all wrong."

"What do you mean?" Wonwoo was desperate to hold onto any piece of hope.

You grabbed one of the daggers from the ground.

"Give me your hands," you urged them.

"Erm…" Mingyu eyed you with suspicion.

"Quick, I'm not sure how much time we have left," your eyes were telling them that you genuinely wanted to help.

Wonwoo took a leap of faith and gave you his hand. You pressed the blade into his skin until blood started pouring out and soaked the earth beneath you. Mingyu figured he had nothing left to lose as he might be dead very soon and also offered his hand. You did the same thing with him. And finally, you cut your own skin. As the blood of a vampire, a werewolf and a witch started drenching the soil in the golden mountain, the three creatures witnessed something they hadn't expected. The blood started turning into water and soon enough a small fountain emerged in front of their eyes.

"The magical fountain!" Wonwoo exclaimed.

"Hurry, we have to drink from it!" you rushed them, the prophecy finally being fulfilled.

The three beings took turns taking sips of water and their bloodied hands were healed in no time.

"Does this mean we succeeded? We passed the seventh challenge and peace will reign between our families?" Mingyu was curious to know.

"I guess there's only one way to find out," you shrugged mysteriously. "Go back home and see for yourselves."

"You promised us something," Wonwoo reminded you. "You said you'd tell us why the feud began in the first place if we make it to the end. Here we are."

"Clever boy," you once again said the words from your very first encounter. "It's a long story, though. You sure you don't wanna check up on your families first?"

"Don't try to weasel your way out of this," Mingyu warned. "We want answers. We've spent long enough living in the dark."

"Nicely put," you laughed. "Very well, then. But first, let us sit down."

The three creatures sat in the grass and so, you began telling the story of how the Kims and the Jeons had started resenting each other.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful witch named Yunchae. She was not only as elegant as a flower but was also smart and kind and her whole family adored her. Tales of her beauty reached the vampire and werewolf families. Haneul the vampire and Kwang the werewolf fell madly in love with her. Yunchae, being so sweet, began spending time with both of them separately. She was unaware of dangers such as jealousy and genuinely considered both of them her lifelong companions. One thing led to another and friendship blossomed into love. One dark night, when there was a full moon, Kwang the werewolf wanted to surprise Yunchae so he came into her chambers earlier than the appointed hour. When he saw her embracing Haneul the vampire, Kwang, affected by the curse of the moon, was overwhelmed with wild rage and possessiveness. In his anger, he ended up tearing Haneul apart. The vampire had been caught unprepared and could not defend himself. Yunchae, in her grief, stabbed herself to death. Kwang, upon seeing his beloved lying cold and shaken by the consequences of his actions, could not accept the reality and threw himself off the tower where Yunchae lived. Upon hearing about the tragic turn of events, Haneul's family and Kwang's family began blaming each other. Yunchae's family was so distraught by the loss of their precious flower that they cursed the Jeons and the Kims to be in constant war unless representatives of the two families desired peace so strongly they were ready to risk their own lives. And here we are."

Wonwoo and Mingyu were silent for a while, trying to think of what to say. The story was so tragic but Mingyu wanted to lighten the mood.

"They were so stupid. Why couldn't they just have a threesome and call it a day?"

"Mingyu!" Wonwoo scolded the werewolf for his slightly inappropriate joke.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Anyhow, this is all in the past. The curse should be lifted by now. I wish you all a peaceful life."

And with that, you vanished into thin air.

"Seriously, when will she stop doing that?" Mingyu groaned.

"She just did. Do you think we'll see her again?" Wonwoo was doubtful but had to voice his concerns.

"Who knows? Maybe we were all meant to find each other."

Mingyu and Wonwoo returned to their homes and they were relieved to find how things have changed. As if by magic. The werewolf Taehyung was freely chatting with the vampire Jungkook. The vampire Somi was holding hands with the werewolf Dahyun. Peace truly reigned between the Kims and the Jeons. Whenever Wonwoo or Mingyu brought up the issue of the past, everyone reacted with surprise. As if there was never any feud. It turned out only the two winners of the seven challenges and the witch who'd helped them get this far remembered the truth about the history of the three families.

Time passed and Mingyu found himself wanting to see you and Wonwoo again. Though dangerous, that one night he spent in the golden mountain was the most magical memory he had and he couldn't stop replaying it in his head. He wondered if Wonwoo felt the same way. Now that peace was established between the Kims and the Jeons, Mingyu could easily go to the castle where Wonwoo lived and ask him to hang out and maybe accompany him to the golden mountain in the hopes that they would find you somehow. Since the challenges were over, he had no idea whether you would still be there or whether you lived somewhere else, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Hey! Psst!" Mingyu started throwing little rocks at Wonwoo's window in the middle of the night. He could smell him from a mile away.

"What the heck, Mingyu?" Wonwoo exclaimed in surprise as he came out on the balcony. "It's 1am!"

"I thought vampires didn't sleep!" Mingyu pointed out.

"We don't but I lost a very important game because of you," Wonwoo complained.

"Oh, boo-hoo. What I came here for is much more important," Mingyu insisted.

"What is it? Don't tell me there are problems between our families again…" Wonwoo whispered, worried that something bad had happened.

"What? No, everything is fine. I just wanted to see you…" Mingyu confessed nervously. "And ask if you wanted to find Y/N again. Go on another adventure in the golden mountain."

"Huh? But why? We passed all the challenges. Why would we go back there?"

"Because…I can't stop thinking about that one night. If it's just me, I'll leave you alone and go by myself. But if a part of you, even a small one, feels the same…then, please, come with me, night kitten," Mingyu begged, his eyes wide and moist with unshed tears.

Wonwoo didn't want to admit it but he knew exactly what Mingyu was talking about. His no longer beating heart was warm all of a sudden and he couldn't bear the thought of rejecting Mingyu's tempting offer. Still, he tried to play it cool.

"Whatever, moon puppy. Wait for me down there," Wonwoo said and hurried out.

When he faced the werewolf outside, Mingyu attacked him with a tight hug.

"I knew it, I knew it!" Mingyu squealed happily. "I knew you'd come! We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Gee, alright, relax," Wonwoo muttered but deep down, he was overjoyed to receive so much affection from his…what were they? Once enemies but during the challenges, they had become allies, something like companions. But now that there was peace, what label could he put on their strange…was it friendship? Before he could come up with an answer, Mingyu grabbed his hand and led the way towards the golden mountain. Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to push him away. He wondered why…

As they arrived at their destination, they started calling your name but to no avail. With the challenges over, it was logical to assume that you went somewhere else. They should have asked you where witches lived before you'd vanished in that typical but super frustrating way of yours.

"What do we do?" Mingyu asked. "Should we summon her somehow?"

"She's not a demon," Wonwoo chuckled. "Do you know any other witches?"

"Nope. You?"

"No. How can we possibly find her?" Wonwoo sat down and touched the ground with his hand. Mingyu mirrored his movements. And as if the earth beneath them recognized them, flowers started growing and glowing in the dark!

"Wow!" Mingyu was in a state of disbelief.

"Incredible," Wonwoo stated and as the picture before them transformed into an image out of their wildest dreams, they finally heard a familiar voice.

"Looking for me, fellas?" you asked.

"Y/N!" Mingyu grinned happily and rushed into your arms. Wonwoo was more reserved…for now.

"Hello there, big puppy," you laughed affectionately. "What brings you here? Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise."

"No, actually, we just wanted to see you," Mingyu admitted.

"Why didn't you show up rightaway when we called your name?" Wonwoo inquired bitterly.

"Hello to you, too, Wonwoo," you shook your head, scolding his manners. "How have you been? Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Hi," Wonwoo corrected himself curtly. "Now tell me."

"I couldn't hear you, so to speak. However, most witches are linked to the earth and your touch sent a signal to me. Does that answer your question?"

Wonwoo nodded but didn't press the matter further.

"Where do you live? How can we find you more easily next time? What do you do now that the challenges are over?" Mingyu started bombarding you with more questions.

"Whoa, there, relax, Gyu. Let's just say I know a place that can give you answers."

"Lead the way!" Mingyu replied enthusiastically as you took hold of his hand.

Wonwoo stood there for a couple of moments, thinking.

"You coming?" you wanted to find out.

Wonwoo followed you wordlessly. Something was off about him and you intended to find out what pretty soon.

You showed them where you lived - in a small cottage near a beautiful lake. You told them that they could come visit whenever they felt like it and Mingyu offered that you also come to the werewolves' camp sometime. Now that the challenges were completed, you spent your days creating spells and gathering herbs. It was peaceful and you couldn't ask for more. Or so you thought. As the three of you explored the golden mountain, you felt closer to the werewolf and the vampire than during the challenges and enjoyed the time spent together more than anything. You could tell that Mingyu felt the same way as he was very cuddly and clingy. Wonwoo, however, was more difficult to read. As morning was nearing and you were all exhausted from your late-night adventures, the three of you ended up sitting in the grass. You and Mingyu ate some sandwiches, while poor Wonwoo starved. You offered him your blood (no tricks this time), but he refused. In your defense, he said he wasn't hungry. Mingyu fell asleep with his head in your lap, so you took this opportunity to ask Wonwoo what was up with him.

"Why are you so cold?" you confronted him directly.

"I'm a vampire?" Wonwoo reminded you needlessly.

"Not literally, you dumbass. During the challenges, you were different. What changed?"

"I know the whole truth now."

"What are you referring to?"

"I'm scared, okay?" Wonwoo admitted. "What if…history repeats itself? What if both Mingyu and I fall in love with you and we all end up hurting each other? What if this peace we fought so hard for is fragile and gets destroyed quickly?"

"It won't, I promised you," you reached out and held Wonwoo's hand gently.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because…we're here now and we're happier than ever. And besides, if we fall in love, we can do like Mingyu suggested our ancestors should have done," you joked.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Wonwoo rolles his eyes.

"I'm serious, though. Would you kill Mingyu if he fell for me?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, he's my...friend," Wonwoo confessed, surprising himself.

"Do you think Mingyu would kill you if you…if you felt the same?" you kept up with the hypothetical questions, even though it all seemed very real.

"He managed to control himself pretty well during the full moon challenge, so, no, I don't think he would."

"Would I kill you? If you two fell in love with each other?" you teased.

"I don't know. Would you?"

"Of course not, my sweet vampire friend," you chuckled.

"Good. Then, I guess my fears were unjustified," Wonwoo felt more at ease.

"Yay! So, threesome?" Mingyu suddenly joined the conversation.

"Mingyu!" you exclaimed.

"Hey! I thought you were sleeping!" Wonwoo was taken aback.

"I was, but I kept having dreams about you two. Must have been because you were talking about me, weren't you?"

"Are we so transparent?" you groaned.

"Nah, it's just that I'm irresistible. Witches and vampires alike can't stop thinking about my puppy charms," Mingyu kept talking.

You leaned down to kiss him to shut him up. Then, you reached out to Wonwoo and gave him a kiss, as well. The werewolf, no longer in the mood to sleep, also embraced the vampire and touched his lips with his own.

"The sun will rise soon," Wonwoo observed sadly. "I have to go unless I want to turn into ash."

"The rules don't apply in the golden mountain. You're safe here," you explained. "You can stay as long you wish and leave when it's dark."

"How about the moon?" Mingyu was curious. "Why did it affect me if the rules don't apply?"

"It was just an illusion designed by my ancestors as part of the challenges. If you were here in the golden mountain during a full moon, you wouldn't have to transform anymore."

"Pretty convenient way to get us to stay, don't you think?" Wonwoo eyed you suspiciously.

"Mm, but don't take advantage of my hospitality. I'm totally coming over to check out your castle next time!"

"How did you know I live in a castle?!" Wonwoo was shocked.

"A witch never kisses and tells," you winked and disappeared.

"Man, not again!" Mingyu complained loudly.

"Just kidding," you came back and rushed into their arms.

The End

[delanokeay]

putting this here in case Vi @theatredelabsurde doesn't want spoilers on her post. @jessaerys, behold! my thesis.

my background: I've read two books by Miéville (Embassytown and Perdido Street Station).

in Miéville's defence: his ideas are genuinely unique and interesting. he writes aliens that actually feel alien. his fantasy has an equal 'scientific' approach to magic, while also maintaining a eldritch horror element. the eldritch horror and body horror are disgustingly awful.

the technical writing is fine. Perdido Street Station is all over the place when it comes to pacing, but it's one of those books that could work if you're in it for the journey, not the destination.

my specific issue is that when you peel away the fantastic elements, what his stories actually say is reprehensible.

Embassytown

the plot of Embassytown is basically:

galactic empire sets up a colony on an inhabited planet at edge of the known universe, for trade/etc.

due to the native inhabitant's biological quirk (two mouths/one mind) and how they conceptualise language (literal/similies, devoid of speculation, lying, etc) the aliens can't communicate with humans or even recognise our speech as language

humans develop a method to communicate in their language (bio-engineered clones conceptualising themselves as one person, therefore getting past the two-mouths/one-mind problem)

a method for two separate people to speak their language is developed and trialled

the contradiction of two mouths/two minds, speaking as one, is such a mindfuck that it has a drug-like effect on the aliens.

most aliens become mindlessly enthralled by listening to this type of speech. it is so extreme that they can no longer think for themselves, but are slaves to their addiction.

other aliens are literally mutilating themselves so that they don't succumb, and can keep their minds in-tact.

a solution is found by the main character: she teaches some aliens to basically think in metaphor, and eventually to lie, therefore allowing them to think in a way that's compatible with the two-mouths/two-minds contradiction.

the aliens adopt a human-like approach to language (lying, metaphor), which fundementally changes the way that they think.

the book ends on an optimistic note looking forward, like this is all progress.

so, what we have is a book about an empire setting up colonies, desecrating the local population, destroying their (primative, child-like) language (they can't lie), and replacing it with their own. the characters who resist are portrayed as terrorists holding back progress.

as far as metaphors go, it is so on the nose and so exact that I'd almost think it intentional. if the intention is to portray the horror of cultural genocide, Miéville completely misses the mark in remembering to portray any of this as 'bad,' or even to acknowledge what is happening.

Perdido Street Station

torture is a contentious topic. many people (even those who believe it's wrong) still think that torture is alright under the right circumstances: what if there's a bomb and this guy knows where it is? what if the victim deserves it? what if the victim is a paedophile?

these emotionally-laden arguments that lend credibility to the idea of torture by removing it from its context: a weapon of the state. if torture is effective, or if it's an acceptable measure to take against some people, then ultimately that means torture is okay.

but the real value of torture is not as an information-gathering tool, nor as an effective deterent for heinous crimes. it's a threat against enemies: this is what we'll do to you if you don't pack it in. the idea that it's justified in certain circumstances is propaganda to that end.

this book repeatedly presents torture as effective, justified, and a reasonable method of punishment.

about halfway through Isaac tortures a guy. this is presented as the correct thing to do. while unpleasant, via torture he's able to gather critical, time-sensitive information. also, his victim is a horrible man in favour of mutilation as a punitive measure (remaking).

his victim is also presented as undignified and cowardly while being tortured; this is presented as a weakness on his part, basically being unmanly and unworthy of the respect awarded to victims.

meanwhile, Yagharek's introduced as a victim of a different type of punitive mutilation, which is rightfully regarded as a disturbing violation. for most of the book, he's a sympathetic figure; it's acknowledged that he didn't deserve this, and that Isaac is right for helping him recover.

then it's revealed that Yag's crime is (basically) rape. Isaac is so disgusted that he backs out of helping Yagharek, which is seen as the uncomplicatedly correct position.

I've seen arguments that Isaac responded this way because he's personally affected by this crime via what happened to Lin. I don't buy it: Miéville included the context of Lin's rape as justification for invoking 'rape is a special kind of evil', therefore justifying why Yagharek actually deserved to be tortured and mutilated.

other examples of torture in this book are treated as disturbing, violating sources of horror and tragedy. but, critically, it's only bad when someone else does it; when Isaac tortures someone, or condemns Yagharek, it's okay.

essentially: torture is fine so long as the justification is compelling enough.

but in this case, the story itself is built on the idea that torture is not bad -- it's only bad when it's deployed by the wrong people, against the wrong people. it's threaded so consistently through this book, alongside ideas about which victims are sympathetic and which are inconsequential losses, that I find it impossible to separate this aspect from the rest of the story.

final thoughts

I don't think every story needs to have a moral or teach a lesson. but, when an author chooses to include something, I think it's fair to expect him to treat those subject with the respect they deserve. in both books of Miéville's that I read, I found his portrayal to be lacking.

neither cultural genocide nor torture are fictional. but for both, even in the real-world, they're very rarely acknowledged as serious issues; what acknowledgement exists often misunderstands it completely.

there are many people, for example, who actively think that languages like Irish or Welsh should be abandoned and left to die, because everyone speaks English now, so what's the point?

likewise, while many people do acknowledge that torture is bad, the severity of it is often understated, and many people do just straight-up think it's okay.

in both cases, these elements are included as explicitly positive forces that move the story to its inevitable end. I find it impossible criticise either element individually, without looking at Miéville's capabilities as a writer and what he chooses to portray as a whole.

[thinkingthougths]

ngl im finding it hard to get the story going and actually come up with a decent plot and i’ve also started writing like 5 other stories that i hope one day i can post here xoxo

-Ghost x female reader

2036 words

-no warnings in this chapter

The haunting of a Ghost

Chapter 4

You called in sick the rest of the day. Just a few non significant meetings that didn’t require your presence nor had any importance in the future, just routine and what not.

From noon to late evening you kept to yourself in the barracks, thankful that your bed were at the end of the room and provided a wall instead of a neighbor bed. The coverage gave some privacy compared to the ones whose bed were placed in the middle of the room, surrounded by others with no corner to hide in.

Restlessly you attempted to sleep through the day, turning back and forth in your bed chasing an ounce of some shuteye. A nap seemed like the best way to make the hours pass by quicker, not wanting to endure the ever growing pit of shame in your stomach and the constant flashbacks of the incident with the lieutenant.

You self-sooth by tightly hugging yourself, desperate for some comfort to calm yourself. It helped a little, loosened your muscles and slowed your breathing. But sleep never came.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, it says it’s past seven in the evening. Meaning the cafeteria will most likely be devoid of any visitors, since dinner was two hours ago. You missed the meal when you opted to stay in bed and loathe yourself. Persistent growls from your empty stomach reveals how hungry you’ve become after not participating in dinner. You need to eat, and now is the best time to sneak past everyone to get to the building where the cafeteria is and buy something from the vending machines.

It was a whole ordeal mustering up the confidence to accept the chance you might stumble upon Ghost on your way there.

You’ve spent every minute since the whole fiasco happened going through all the details. Scrutinizing your actions and thoughts, judging yourself and hating that you didn’t call in sick from the beginning. Then you wouldn’t have had ended up as a train wreck and everything would have been normal and continued the way it was before.

You should have listen to your gut feeling that told you it wasn’t a good idea to enter the gym today. Should have heeded the foreboding omens.

The cafeteria was in the northern building and the path there took you right by all the recreation rooms and places where everyone would relax especially now when the work day was over for most people. Thankfully, you knew of a shortcut that wasn’t really much of a shortcut, just a different path nobody particularly used. Its path winded through several conjoined buildings, up and down few stairs, and then a small path behind the cafeteria to its back door. The buildings were mostly made up of meeting rooms and similar rooms that were only used during the day and are supposed to be empty this time of day. It’s a road you’ve hiked before, when the introvert in you were desperate for food and not in the mood for small talk with your fellow soldiers.

Dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black fleece jacket with a T-shirt beneath, you embarked on the journey for some dinner.

A few of the women from your barrack stopped you on your way out, asking how you were feeling. They had been on the meetings you missed and noticed your lack of presence. You gave them a hasty throw-up of words about the reason why, lying that you probably just had eaten something your stomach didn’t approve but it was much better now. They swallowed your lie with ease and let you continue on your errand.

It’s nice knowing that you’re not completely invisible as you think you are sometimes and that people actually do notice if you’re missing.

The dim lights at the door give way for the moons gentle glow shine through the small window. Opening the door to the outside, the moon’s delightfully basking you in its pale light as you head for the next building.

It went smoothly to get to one place to the other. You encountered a minimal amount of people, none that knew you and thankfully left you alone. And most important of all, you didn’t run into Ghost. That was what you feared the most. Not knowing how to behave around him after what had happened. For the last couple of hours you had contemplated wether to act like the way you felt, hurt and ashamed, or if you should do the most professional thing in these circumstances; act like nothing had gone down between you, like his soft brushes against your shivering skin hadn’t culminated any raw desires deep within your innocent and tender heart.

Which might turn out to be kind of hard since you share a few friends with him, especially a certain Sergeant Kyle Garrick. Kyle was the one who showed you the ropes the day you transferred to this base, he took you under his wing and made you feel at home ridiculously fast. The amount of compassion and benevolence that man carried was unmeasurable, he always went out of his way to be there for everyone and he never let you down. Without him this place would have been unbearable your first year when no one else seemed to have taken an interest to you to become a friend. You were so goddamn grateful for Kyle, you’d take a bullet for him no questions asked.

He was also, unfortunately, a very close companion to Ghost since they came from the same taskforce, the 141. The bond they shared came from years and years of tough missions done together, some that lasted many long and torturous months. You’d never beat that, and secretly feared that if push came to shove and this whole situation with Ghost turned really bad, Kyle would pick the lieutenants side over yours.

No, you shake your head while exiting the last building, it isn’t fair to Kyle to wager which of his friends he’d choose. He’s too much of a good person to ever pick a side.

Instead, you focused on not slipping in the dewy grass behind the cafeteria. Tiptoeing carefully using the faint glow of the moon to see where you’re stepping. Some moisture from the grass makes its way through your thin sneakers, annoyingly dampening the bottoms of your socks. This is the downside of behaving like some stupid spy on a mission, opting for the outside terrain instead of the inside where proper flooring is; you get to suffer a bit.

Above the double door was a twinkling lightbulb barely covered by the metal lampshade, the bulb having a steady rhythm of being on and off. For such a large and well money supported military base you’d think they’d invest a bit more in keeping functional lights. You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes and pulling the door open. Its hinges creaks from apparent disuse and neglect, no one goes through these doors regularly. And that’s why you slow down the opening of the door, to dull the sound and keep noisy ears from being tempted to see where the shrill sound came from.

Hot air from the overhead ac blew on you, making you toasty again after being outside in the colder temperature.

The room you entered was just an antechamber that led to different hallways. The one you’re walking towards leads you straight to the where the vending machines are. Past a few other rooms designed for the soldiers and others on this base to leisure in, and by the distant reverberating sounds they are all pretty much occupied.

You were aware of this, that people would hang out here, and have already doubled up your speed to sneak by unseen.

The clamor of a group loudly laughing at something had you slow down to a normal pace. One laugh stood out to you, it was the rich voice of Kyle.

Shit. If Kyle’s there, then the rest of taskforce 141 are also probably hanging out in the rec room with him as they tend to stay together.

There was no door leading into the room, just a wide gaping entrance that gives a panoramic view of the entire space.

Anxiety tugged at your heart, an inner voice telling you keep your head straight forward and keep on walking.

But curiosity of knowing whether the lieutenant was participating in the pastime or not made you falter your step into a creeping shuffle. Just one quick peak inside before anyone can catch you spying and your curiosity will be sated, you tell yourself. The lewd action of something way too close to stalking was thrilling all the while you were chewing on the inside of your cheek in nervousness.

Standing right next to the entrance and out of sight, you gather some courage and wipe your sweaty hands on your pants.

Steadily leaning forward while holding a grip on the wall, you survey the small crowded room. Twenty people at least, occupying every seat that can be found including ledges of tables and some down on the ratty carpets.

Scanning all faces, you find the one whose voice you’d picked up earlier; Kyle. The carefreeness oozing from him as he lively holds a conversation with a man you don’t recognize while taking a swig from a beer bottle. A warm smile forms on your lips at the sight, seeing him at ease and enjoying himself after the intense mission he came from last night makes you happy.

Happiness that’s extinguished like a light when your eyes catches the sight of Ghost.

You feel sick.

He is standing in a corner, leaning up against the wall next to a girl you can’t remember ever having seen here before. She’s very pretty and it’s abundantly clear that she is heavily flirting with him. Standing close, arching her body and seductively tilting her dainty head while bearing her neck to him, like an offering. An offering that he seems to consider as he’s not outright rejecting her advances nor trying to make any moves to escape the interaction.

The view has you difficulty swallowing, mouth suddenly bone dry as your blood punishingly pounds throughout your tensed body.

Taking a step back, you blink in confusion. Why are you having such a strong reaction at seeing a woman fluttering her eyes at Ghost. You hate the man, hate his guts and everything about him. He’s a bully. You should feel relief that his attention might move on from you and to another woman that he can harass.

So, why do you want to throw up when Ghost tips just an inch closer toward her while holding her heated gaze.

Damn his balaclava that covers his face so you can’t make out if he is smirking or not, accepting her advances or not. The only things visible are his hooded eyes. The same brown eyes that once were pointed to you.

You don’t want to accept that you’re feeling rejected. As if you’ve been in some sort of situationship with him and now been thrown aside like garbage and replaced by a newer and prettier toy.

You detest Ghost. He shouldn’t have the power to make you feel like this. You absolutely hate these disgusting emotions that he’s provoked. The rollercoaster of fear and humiliation, and the feelings you don’t want to admit to, the odd infatuation that’s he enchanted you with and how special you felt that someone paid you any attention. Especially, a guy like him who’s known for being stone cold unattainable and rejecting all forms of approaches.

Lost in your musings, your eyes stayed too long on Ghost and he noticed you. His fierce brown eyes flicked towards yours so fast, as if he’d know all along you’d been watching him.

You gasped, stumbling backwards in surprise.

Did he knew you were spying in him all this time?

It felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured on you, making your heart drop into your stomach as you fast-track it out of there not sparing a single second for him to burn you with his heated stare.

[valkierrie]

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning(s): Swearing.

Plot: Y/N is coerced into going to a Stone Roses gig after unknowingly meeting the lead singer.

Word count: 1.1K

A/N: Hope the person that requested this enjoys it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bright moon was a stark contrast to the lowly dimmed lights, yet it acted as a sort of helper to the tall streetlights, which to their credit still worked despite looking about ready to give out.  

Still, that wasn’t enough to deter me nor were the high amounts of crimes that occurred around this time of the evening. I was on a mission and I would do just about anything to get what I wanted. 

I’d been on the hunt for a certain vinyl to complete my collection. This wasn’t just any record; it was a true rarity in The Smiths discography. 

I’d managed to crack down a record store just outside Manchester that I was certain would contain the record—unless, of course, someone else with an even better collection had known of its value and already nicked it. 

The small bell above the large door rang, as I pushed the glass material to allow an opening for myself to enter.  

The place, poorly lit, and surprisingly cold, had an Oasis of records, but seemed devoid of anyone, even someone behind the counter. 

I looked around for any sign of how the records were labelled. Luckily, they were alphabetical and pretty accurate, except of course records with “The” or “This” being placed in the T section. 

I crouched down as I looked through the lower shelf for The Smiths’ section, passing The Cure and The La’s; Records I was sure to be coming back for another day.  

Once I found the collage of albums belonging to The Smiths, I scrolled through, the self-tilted, Meat Is Murder, Hatful of Hollow, then I finally landed on The Queen Is Dead.  

There was the single. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out acting as the A side to Half A Person. It was exclusively released in France, and very hard to find in England, and yet here it was it.  

Before I could pull it out of its thin slot from the shelf, the record fell over from the other side. I leaned closer to the shelf and a pair of brown eyes made contact with mine. I jumped back, startled.  

I stood up, slowly, brushing dust from my pants. The owner of the pair of eyes stood up too. I took his appearance in; sharp cheekbones that weren’t hard to miss, he wasn’t much taller than I was—maybe by one or two inches. He had dark, shaggy hair. It was styled in the typical bowl cut. I wasn’t sure why anyone thought the style looked good, it made the person with it look like they were doing a cheap Joan of Arc impersonation. At least it worked with her. Nowadays, it was rare to see anyone that made it look good. 

Somehow, it didn’t look too bad on him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled. 

“You didn’t,” I lied, composing myself before my eyes darted towards his hands, where the record was firmly clutched. “But you will, if you take that.” I pointed to the vinyl. 

The man cocked a brow. “Really?”  

I couldn’t tell if he was amused and confused or just confused. 

“What’s that?” he added. 

I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him the value the item held. It would have definitely given him more reason to buy it. 

“There Is A Light That Never Goes Out holds sentimental value to me. Just the whole of The Queen Is Dead.” 

The bloke crossed his arm in suspicion. “Go on then, what’s special ‘bout this one? Bet ya don’t even know.” 

“Special—pfft—it's not special, it's just another record.” I fabricated, playing the with hem of my shirt. 

“Okay, then—” 

“But I would really like to buy that one.” 

“So it is special, then?” 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “It is.” I admitted. “It’s a rare copy, a bitch to find in England.” 

“Ah, so that’s why you want it?” He taunted; the amusement evident by the smirk on his face. 

I nodded. “I’ve been looking all over for it for months.” 

“Aye? Now I definitely gotta keep this one, just for the fun of it.” 

“C’mon,” I pleaded. “I’ll pay double.” 

He chuckled, his amusement growing by the second. 

“Triple.” I insisted. 

“Dunno if I should, really.” He shrugged. “Seems like a real gem, this.” 

“C’mon, mate.” 

The man laughed, like actually laughed, as if this were a bit from some cheesy sitcom. “You must really want this, uh?” 

I nodded.  

“Tell ya what—I'll let ya ‘ave it.” 

My face lit up as I reached for the record, just as my fingers brushed against the cover; the bastard yanked it back, seemingly chuffed with himself.  

“Ah-ah, not so fast, mate.” He tsked, holding up a finger. “Ya gotta do summat for me.” 

I cocked a brow; what could he possibly want from someone he’d never met before. “What?” 

“You ever heard of The Stone Roses?” 

“Stone Roses?” My brows knitted together in confusion. 

“Proper class band, they are.” 

“Never heard of them.” 

“That’s tragic, that.” 

“I’m sorry, what does this have to do with what I have to do for you?” 

“You want this beauty?” He gestured to the vinyl. “Next weekend, get yerself to the Roses’ gig, and it’s yours.” 

“Seriously?” I crossed my arms. “What are you? Their manager?” 

“Maybe I am.” He shrugged. “All that matters is how much ya want this.” 

I hesitated for a second. This was a complete stranger telling to meet him somewhere. Common fucking sense was telling me to walk off, but the desire to have the record tugged at me like a petulant child.  Was it even worth it? I wanted to say no, but still, I’d hate to look back and think that I missed out of completing my collection, that would bug me to no end.  

“Alright.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” I confirmed. “Where’s this gig happening?” 

The man reached into his pockets for something, but from his expression and the lack on anything emerging from his pocket that he didn’t put back, he obviously hadn’t found what he needed. His eyes landed on the breast pocket of my shirt.   

“Hold still.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip gentle and warm. The pen scratch across my palm of my hand as he scribbled messy, looping letters. “There, don’t wash it off, yeah?” 

The pen was twirled around his fingers, as if there was all the time in the world, before he handed it back. 

Then he said something else—asked something else. “You got a name, then?” 

“Yeah, It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N.” I responded, placing the pen back inside my safe pocket. 

He repeated my name, testing it. “Nice name.” 

“Thanks. You got one too? or are you okay with going by stranger?” 

“Ian.” He stuck his hand. “Ian Brown.” 

“I’ll see you at that gig, Ian Brown.” I shook his hand.

“Don’t flake, be a real shame if I had to keep this to myself.” Ian grinned. “Catch ya later, then.” 

Ian walked towards the counter, looking behind it for someone who looked like they worked there. 

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Series

sinag — psh.

chapter five

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: a contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: hello, i hope you will enjoy this chapter and give me feedbacks. ily and thank you for reading my works. stay safe.

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

The man crawled slowly over the dirty street, trying to make a run for his life. He grunts as the injury and wounds to his whole body was inscrutable. He can hear multiple footsteps making sounds as they step into the puddles of rainwaters all over the place caused by the pouring rain. It made it colder and harder to breath.

He yelped in pain when someone stepped hardly over his back, pushing him further to the ground. Making him one with the dirty and wet street.

“Where the fuck do you think are you going?” his tone empty and devoid of emotions. It makes him scared and cries of plea follows right after.

He felt his head harshly pulled back by his hair as the man leaned down. To look at this brutal man’s eyes almost sent him down to hell. Despite being under the rain, blood splattered on his face painting his fair skin red.

“P-Please,” he begged.

The man showed no remorse and without a word, he slammed his head on the ground making him lose his consciousness completely.

“Aren’t you going to stop him?” Jake asks Jay as they watch their friend beat the shit out of this poor man.

Jay craned his neck to look at the scene and his reaction seems like he was pretty much used to it already. He shrugs his shoulder off while holding an umbrella to keep him from being drenched from the heavy rain. “Do you want to?”

Jake sighs and just silently watch their friend kicking the man on the ground. It was obvious that he was incapable to fight back or even shield himself from all the hit. He was unconscious, probably almost near his death.

Tonight, the three of them gathered to do some 'business' and since Sunghoon just came from his trip from another country, trying to find his girl, he's slightly on the bad mood. Slightly.

Jay and Jake were already covered in blood, but Sunghoon's showering over it. They couldn't just stop him because they know he somehow relieves stress this way. The look of murder on his eyes aren't fading just yet and they both knew it will last for a bit longer tonight.

“I thought you and Ni-ki are searching for her too?” Jay whispered lighting up another cigarette.

The other man sighs, “Yes. But its odd, we managed to find some informations about her but all of it was three years ago.”

It made Jay halt from taking a huff from his cigs before he tilts his head, “You mean its like she vanished?”

Jake nods his head. Even him find it uncanny how there's no more updates or informations about her whereabouts. Like she's purposely maintaining a low profile or someone is doing it for her? It made him confused and even made Ni-ki digs more deeply like as if that wasn't what the younger one was already doing.

“What if she's dead already?” Jay blurted while watching their friend let all his frustrations out.

“Hell will break lose,” Jake took a deep sigh, trying to relax his tensed shoulder. “Can you see him? He's a ticking time bomb and only her can defuse him.”

Jay smirks, “We really need to hope she's alive somewhere.”

“There's no records saying that she is dead so I think we're still good.”

They both nods their head and once again watch how their friend kill those unfortunate people who stands on his way. He was unstoppable, unable to be tamed. Right now, they knew they had to find you faster or else he will really lose his mind.

“Still nothing?” your head snaps to your side, shoulder slumped so low that shows so much of your disappointment.

You've been on a hunt for your new job for a month already and yet none of them calls back. Pretty sure its not the degree or experiences that sets as an issue to this matter. Your previous boss surely used his power to make your life miserable.

“Yes.”

Lucie stares at you with a look of pity before she sets down her glass of water. She trudges closer to where you are to try and console you. She can see how hard working you are and even if you haven't told her the full story yet, she knew it wasn't you who caused all the troubles.

“Why don't you just try applying on my previous work place? I mean, its not as big as your salary before, but its not a bad pay.”

Your eyes looks at her, “Yeah, maybe I should do that. Thank you so much Lucie.”

She smiles and caress your back. “No problem. I’ll send you the details for the HR department so you can send your resume.”

You nod your head and watch her walk back to the room adjacent to yours. Things may had been rough with you, but you are lucky enough to have her beside you. It's still amusing for you how she’s very nice. Guess its really true that whenever someone leaves and go, somebody will arrive on your life.

It wasn’t hard to get an interview appointment for the said company. It was a lot smaller than your old work, but that's fine. This isn't the time to be picky specially if you're starting to deplete your savings.

They replied with your said schedule of interview and the things you need to prepare for the application. It made you hopeful despite knowing the possibility of not being accepted again. These are the usual routine. You send your resume, they reply with your schedule for interview, interview you and then ask you to wait for nothing. Eitherway you let yourself hope and dressed up for it.

The company was discarding lots of employees for the past week now since they had a new boss. The information raised your expectation to be accepted since they're in need of people.

Your heart thumped inside your chest as you wait patiently for your turn. The ac was on, you're sure of it, but you're sweating cold. It was not a foreign feeling. Just like whenever a teacher asks you to recite something in front of everybody in your class or taking one of your biggest exams. It made your palms sweaty and your feet tapping lightly to the floor. It was a dreadful feeling.

On the other hand, Jake's eyes lazily watch the view from inside his vehicle. He felt his phone ringing so he fished it from his coat and answered.

“Dude, where are you?”

He sighs, “I’m going to work. What do you want, Jay?”

His friend's whine can be heard from the other line that tugs the corner of his lips upwards. “It's a saturday? Come on.”

“I can’t. I’m in the middle of rebuilding this new company I bought.”

“The one near your mall? Why did you even bought that when it doesn't even match your own companies?”

“It does have income and regenerating well for years now. I can check on what I can do to improve it and if not, I can just demolish and use the land to extend my mall.”

Jay lets out a sigh, he just couldn't believe how Jake is a monster in this field of work. He is pretty smart, he'll give him that, but when it comes to business he's on a different level. Mainly why most of their friends comes to him for advice.

“Fine, call me later after you finish playing with your toys.”

Jake chuckles, “All right.”

He ended the call just in time of their arrival at the said company. His men opens the door for him and the handsome bachelor steps outside proudly. He walks inside and workers started to greet him, paying full respect for him. His serious demeanor didn't falter and just head straight for the lift, going to his office.

As he arrives, line of people caught his attention. He was about to ask what's it all about when he remembered how he command for them to hire new employees after he dismissed most of them. He wanted this company working as to the way he wanted it to be. So those who are not in line with his vision, he gets rid of them.

“Mr. Sim.” his secretary for this company greets him with a flushing cheeks. He kept his placid expression and wait for what she's about to say.

“We already started to interview applicants for the job vacancies.” she said trying hard to check any positive reaction from him.

Jake's eyes roams around carefully as she continues to fill him through the updates from the things he asked them to do. Slowly, her voice became muffled as his eyes get caught at something that made him utterly surprised.

He pursed his lips, brows furrowing hardly at the sight of a girl a few feet away from where he's standing. Her nervous face was obvious as she continuous to fidget with her fingers. Jake doesn't know what to think. He was so close to asking his men if he's starting to see things, but then he snapped himself back to his senses.

“Who is she?” her secretary snaps her head in a hurry to follow his line of sight.

She hesitates and look back from you and Jake, just to check if she's getting it right.

“She's probably one of the applicants for the job.” her eyes dropping over the folder she was holding.

Jake didn't talk and kept his stance. He resets his mind to come up with his new plan and for his next move. He was always careful and never reckless.

“Ohh...” his assistant talks with a tone sounding a little bit astound. He looks at her as she checks her file.

“Why?”

“She's being blacklisted.”

Jake's forehead furrowed at the information he heard. This thing was already common in the world of business. People that have power uses this method to make sure someone they don't really like cannot be accepted in any company they are associated on.

“Blacklisted? By who?”

“Mr. Kang.” she answered quickly.

There's a lot of Kang in the industry of business, but since he knew whose the main investors of this company he already have an idea which Kang she's referring to. It slowly lights up curiosity over him on what did you possibly do to make him so upset to the point he was making your life this miserable.

Was he your ex boyfriend? Jake couldn't help but to scoff inside his mind at the thought of what Sunghoon will do to him once he found out. He may lose his mind and make Mr. Kang regret he even walked this earth.

Jake sighs, trying to hold his excitement.

“I want her in my office in five minutes. I will interview her myself.” he announced that surprised her assistant.

He starts heading towards his office and she follows him, “But Mr. Kang's instruction is to not accept her even in interviews.”

Jake didn't say anything and just lightly cranes his head to stare at her. Chills run through her spine at the strictness that lingers through his eyes. She instantly regrets insisting about what Mr. Kang instructed.

“R-Right away, sir.” she bows her head in a submissive manner before politely excusing herself to do as he say.

He trudges towards his office while fishing his phone from his coat. His men follows silently, waiting for anything he will order them to do.

“Riki.” Jake sighs, despite the calm demeanor he couldn't help but to flash a small smile over his lips.

“What hyung?” the younger one sounds in a rush.

“I found her.”

“Who?” his response made him roll his eyes in disbelief. Is he that distracted that he forgot their main agenda?

“Sunghoon's obsession.”

The other line went silent. Jake even furrowed in confusion and checked if Ni-ki turned off the call, but no. It's still going. He put his phone back to his ears.

“Hey,”

“No way, hyung? Are you for real?” now he sounded so interested. He smirks, remembering how he reacted moments ago after seeing you.

Who would not react that way? Sunghoon's been searching for you for years already and to see you now is just amusing. So he really did saw you and not losing his mind. Jake felt relieved, but also a little worried of how things will work out after this.

“Yes. I’ll send you her details later so you can go dig for her informations again.”

“All right. I’ll be waiting.”

They bid good-byes and Jake started preparing himself for your arrival. He's sure that his assistant will escort you inside any minute now.

Jake's was an inch close to call Sunghoon and deliver him the good news, but he's smarter than that. He knew better than to spoil the moment and mess things up. Of course he wants his friend to see you and finally put an end to his miserable search operations. He needs to think things through and come up with the best plans in order to help his friend.

“Miss Aelia?” your head lifts up after hearing your name. The lady who asked you to wait in line from a while ago was in front of you. She's holding this folder and she have this warry expression on her face.

Your eyes glanced around to check what's up and its still not yet your turn for the interview. Chest started beating fast and you worry that things are starting to be messed up once again. Shoulders already falling, you looked up at her with a pitiful eyes.

“Y-Yes?” you are so ready to pack up and leave when she flashes you a small smile.

“Kindly follow me.”

A bit bewildered that she didn't sent you home, you managed to stand up on your feet and follow behind her. People sitting beside you were also confused but has nothing much that they can do.

She guides you towards this hallway leading to a more secluded part of the floor. And your heart sank when you read that its the president's office.

Your hand unconsciously reached over your skirt, flattening it a bit. Next is your hair that you fixed and just in time, she asked you to wait for a bit.

She enters the room and not a minute long, she peaked through the door then asked you to come inside. You nodded and gulped, feeling your throat getting dry. To say that you are nervous was an understatement. Your breathing are fast and heavy, like your heart will jump out from your chest. Your palms both so sweaty and your throat running dry despite the continuous attempt of washing it off with your saliva.

The officed looked a little messy, like things are being moved from here and there. Maybe because they have a new president, the office are being renovated. But any of that should be the least of your concern because at the center of that said room, was Jake Sim.

The moment you laid eyes on him, you are slightly shook. He was handsome, very handsome to be exact. He has this mullet length black hair that seemed so soft. Plump lips and big doe eyes that reminds you of puppy eyes. Funny, because for someone who have delicate features, he sure is intimidating.

You feel very nervous as you took more steps closer to his visitor's chair that was placed in front of his desk.

“Good day, S-Sir.” you stuttered a little as he kept his eyes fixed at your direction.

You can't really tell what's in his mind at the moment. His stares remained and you couldn’t help but to feel odd about it. He didn't say anything even after his secretary has left the room. It's already been a minute.

Something about his stares makes you feel more nervous and somehow anxious. The urge to stand up and leave slowly intoxicated your mind, but you know this isn't the right time to let your trauma from your previous boss take over you.

“S-Sir?” you tried catching his attention.

That visibly snapped Jake back to his senses. He cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed for staring too much. He cursed inside his mind, knocking his senses back to his system. He needs to collect himself and not mess this up. Surely it was fascinating seeing you here inside his office, but frightening you would be the last thing he wanted.

“So,” he draws in a sigh before grabbing a piece of paper to write on. “Miss Aelia, huh?”

Your head bops lightly and a short “Yes, Sir.” follows.

Jake scanned the folder he was holding. All the basic informations that Ni-ki had given him are mostly here. He clicked his tongue and tilts his head over to the side.

“Where are you currently staying?”

His question made you purse your lips tightly, contemplating whether to tell him or not. Various things clouded your mind, some of them even appropriate. You couldn’t help it, what happened to you in the past caused all of these.

“W-Why...”

Seems like the man in front of you noticed your expression so he was quick to pull off a small smile. He still looked intimidating, but it somehow ease your worry.

“If you’re living far from the premises we are to offer you a place to your convenience. Also a car for you to use to travel back and fort all expense will taken care of the company.” he offered.

You were caught off-guard by what he said. Is this how it usually is? Company aren’t this generous when it comes to new employees so you’re a little confused, but at the same time tempted. A place to stay sounds great and a vehicle? Sure sounds very convenient too.

“I live a bit far from here, Sir.” you answered that made him nod his head slowly, eyes trailing back towards the folder he was holding.

“Are you single or already married?” his eyes are fixed at your resume. It took you a while to answer that made him glance back up to you.

“Your benefits will be based on your civil status.” you felt embarrassed for thinking differently of his question.

“O-Oh! I’m single, Sir.”

Jake smiles and nods his head before resuming to reading your informations.

Its not that it even matter whether you’re single or not. In the end, Sunghoon will still do everything in his will to get you. But it’s good to know you are single, at least a soul was saved from his friend’s wrath.

“T-That’s actually great, Sir.” you managed to utter. His eyes lits up and lips lifts up in eagerness.

“So you’re accepting the job?” he sounds hopeful making you furrow your brows, addled with all of the things that’s happening.

“Y-Yes, but aren’t you going to interview me?” your tone sounded too soft for Jake. He knew Sunghoon will go crazy for it and he couldn’t wait for you two to meet. But there’s still a lot of things to take care of.

He lifts his head up to glance at you, tearing his gaze off from your resume that contains all the details he wanted from you. He shows a confident smile, making blushed a bit, getting caught off-guard by his visuals.

“I just did.” he shrugs his shoulders off in a relax manner.

Despite being a little confused as to how things just ended so well, you couldn’t help but to feel giddy to actually get the job.

“S-So I’m hired?”

Jake nods, “Yes. You can start on monday. Sounds good?”

Your lips stretched into a wide smile as you accept Jake’s hands. “Yes, Sir! Thank you so much! I will do my best and I will not disappoint you.”

He smirks and nods then watch how his secretary escorts you outside his office. It’s been two minutes since you left, but he was still staring straight at the door right in front of him. He couldn’t believe it.

He stood up and fishes his phone from his pocket, a big playful smirk plays over his lips while waiting for someone to pick up his call.

'“What?” Sunghoon hissed at him.

Jake scoffs, clearly not surprised to his friend’s arrogance.

“10 Million.” he started.

“The fuck you saying?”

“I’m selling you this new company I acquired and currently revisioning.”

This time, it was his friend’s turn to scoff at him.

“Ten Million? What? Is there some gold hidden in that company or something?” Sunghoon asks, very sarcastic.

Jake’s grin grew wider, wanting so bad to spill the great news to his friend.

“You can say that.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond right away and just thought of what his friend was offering. He may not be the best one when it comes to business, but he sure not a dumb person. Jake rarely sells him property unless it was worth it or he can benefit from it in the near future. He trust his friend.

He sighs, “I’ll send you the check tomorrow.” and ended the call right away.

Jake laughs and put back his phone inside his pocket. “God damn, this is fun.”

main master-list

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@heeseung-min

[eastern-lights]

DRAGON AGE VOWS & VENGEANCE SPOILERS FOLLOW

Feel free to stop reading right now if you thoroughly enjoyed V&V. I don't mean to ruin your enjoyment by being negative about it.

But man, was this thing aggressively mediocre. Vows & Vengeance is a prime argument for why BioWare should never outsource its writing.

The script feels like a rushed first draft. There's no subtext, cliches upon cliches, plot holes and straight up ignoring established lore.

One thing that stood out in the last episode:

Neve: Drinks on me?

Varric: Only because you're paying.

Bro... Department of Redundancy Department much? Did they even read it after themselves? When not even Brian Bloom can make your script sound natural, you've done something horribly wrong.

And poor Mae Whitman is obviously trying her best with what she was given, but she just doesn't turn in a good performance here. She had something to work with in episode one and it showed, but it's obvious that the writers just had no idea what to do with the character after that, apart from 1. Angsting after Elio and 2. Getting tricked by demons who look like Elio.

The concept was good. The cast was good. The sound design was excellent. But the script was just so absolutely rancid it made some parts a chore to get through.

I think the only VA who managed to make their part sound completely devoid of cringe was Nick Boraine and that might be because Emmrich is unique enough of a character that the writers had no cliches to fall back on. (I hated their treatment of Harding. I got the feeling they took one look at her and went "ah yes, badass archer woman. She clearly speaks solely in Marvel one liners").

It just pisses me off so much because audiodramas are an underrated medium and a Dragon Age audiodrama is a concept with an immense amount of potential. If it were a bad idea that turned out bad, I wouldn't have cared. But it was such a good idea and they mucked it up so badly.