#saw whom gods destroy last night and just.... so many thoughts

[mywritingonlyfans]

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

 All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you. 

 Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather. 

 “Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip. 

 Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

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

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved. 

 Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her. 

 Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

 Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left. 

 He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore. 

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Recap: Adam met Chuuya and the flags for the first time in the billiards bar. Despite misunderstanding each other, they resolved the misconception and played billiards cohesively.

Albatross was impressed by how skillful Adam was in playing billiards. 'It was all physics and calculations,' answered by Adam. The android once again introduced himself to the crowd, and revealed his favourite things were acorn and grass seed, and things he hated were metal detectors in the airport. His dream is to create an investigation organisation that was solely run by machines because he saw humans irrational hence incapable in carrying detective missions.

Piano Man replied that he still could not trust Adam because he was afraid Adam would leak the information of the Mafia to his own organisation. However, Adam promised that his mission was only about arresting Verlaine, and he would not interfere with anything further. Chuuya disagreed because he thought Adam was lying.

'It is impossible that Verlaine is searching for me,' said Chuuya

'Why?' asked Adam

'Because Paul Verlaine is dead.'

Chuuya recalled the Arahabaki incident one year ago. It was all about Arahabaki, the artificial ability created by the military. In order to get this top secret, Two European spies took on a mission to steal Arahabaki, and they were Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine. They accomplished their mission perfectly. However, Paul Verlaine suddenly betrayed his partner. He attacked Rimbaud, and took away Arahabaki by himself. The battle between the spies, who were also super ability users, were intense, which they created a scene of battle with mass destruction.

As a result, Rimbaud won and lived, but he lost his partner. As being a super ability user, this battle caught the attention from the military. Rimbaud was chased after by the authority and he had no way out. As Rimbaud was already very weak after the battle with Verlaine, he had no choice but to absorb the ability that he just stole, which was Arahabaki itself. As a result, it became Verlaine's ability - to abilitify humans - he broke the seal of Arahabaki. It was a form of ability that was beyond human capacity, and was as if it were the beast of god. The military tried their best to seal the Arahabaki. Afterwards, a huge black flame burnt everything, regardless of the military, laboratories and all the surroundings. Rimbaud was the only one who survived under the protection of the ability, but he lost his memory in return. Rimbaud then joined the mafia and used 8 years to recover his memory. In order to fully recover, Rimbaud baited Chuuya - the true Arahabaki - to appear, so that Rimbaud could absorb his ability. That's the course behind the Arahabaki incident one year ago.

Rimbaud was then dead, because he lost to Chuuya.

'No, Verlaine was alive,' said Adam. Piano asked for the proof but Adam said he did not want to leak the top secret to anyone apart from Chuuya. Chuuya said that it was fine to brief the information with them all because Chuuya considers the Flags as related personnel. The flags were touched because they were surprised by how Chuuya considered them as his companions. Chuuya wanted to take back his word because he was embarrassed.

'I will follow your order,' Adam took the opportunity and he grabbed Chuuya under his arm as if a piece of parcel, and hopped away from the bar instantly. Adam was holding Chuuya and hopping, flying in between the residence area. 'I also want to be holded like that...' Doc was watching Chuuya leaving with Adam and whispered.

-

-

'Why are you holding me that way!?' Chuuya said furiously. 'You can put me on your back or just take my hand, there are many ways!'

'I am terribly sorry,' Adam said. 'This is the best way to transport you according to your size.'

'Imma beat you ass up! I am still growing!' shouted by Chuuya.

Chuuya used his ability and they were landed in an abandoned Church that was formerly destroyed in the war, and he had a call from Piano Man.

'Are you alright Mr Parcel? Have you got your stuff delivered yet?' Piano Man sounded very happy.

'I am fine,' Chuuya replied.

Piano Man told Chuuya to finish his business ASAP because the boss was asking them to come for a meeting. Chuuya replied and the conversation was over.

Adam proceeded briefing Chuuya what had happened. He showed Chuuya a photo which was taken during the coronation in the St. Paul's Cathedral in London three years ago.

The photograph displayed three collapsed soldiers in the Cathedral whom were murdered. The men brought no sword with them, no blood, no gunshot were found either. Those men were laying on the floor as if fell asleep, but it wasn't, they were all dead.

Adam said that these three soldiers were the close bodyguards of the Queen, and belonged to the Order of the Clock Tower. One of the soldiers once destroyed an organisation in one night, so they were meant to be very powerful and difficult to kill, yet they were all killed by Verlaine. There were no external injuries found, but their bones were broken down to 1228 pieces at the same time. Chuuya was shook because  Adam said it was practically impossible to do so.

The crime scene occurred during the coronation, and it was suspected that the Queen was also the target. Fortunately, the Queen was safe, but the reputation of the Clock Tower was severely damaged.

The Order of the Clock Tower was meant to protect the Royal Family, and their guard is unbreakable because their ability users were on the level of the Transcendents as they could create a subspace, and this was where the Royal Family were. Hence an assassin would be killed back right away if he attempted to assassinate the members of the Royal Family. Therefore, Paul Verlaine almost became the most dangerous man that would threaten world security. That's why Dr. Wollstonecraft sent Adam to take a new approach to investigate this incident, and that new approach is Chuuya. Adam knew Verlaine was searching for Chuuya, so Adam thought it would be efficient to come to Chuuya before Verlaine arrived, and then he could arrest him.

'So basically I am a bait?' asked Chuuya, and Adam admitted.

Chuuya refused to assist because he thought even if Verlaine was going to kill him, he would be able to handle it. He then left Adam because the 'Mail Man' from the Mafia was already waiting for him. Adam didn't let go of Chuuya and kept following him. Mail Man, in general terms, were responsible for sending messages between the Port Mafia, as well as acquiring intelligence for the organisation. The Mail Man was wearing a black hat and sunglasses, which had his face covered. Adam was still chasing after Chuuya.

'Please don't go, Chuuya-san!' shouted Adam.

'Hurry up!' Chuuya went inside the car and told the Mail Man.

'He is Verlaine!' shouted Adam. The Mail Man then accelerated the car and got away from Adam.

-

-

Chuuya tried to punch the man but it was unsuccessful.

'You are lighter than I thought. You should eat more or else brother will be worried,' said Verlaine. A battle broke out inside the car. Under Verlaine's gravity control, Chuuya could not breathe as his lungs almost collapsed, and he was gradually losing his consciousness as blood was deprived from his brain.

'I don't recall having a European brother...' said Chuuya

'You are wrong,' Verlaine replied, 'I am neither an European nor a human. I am just like you.'

'No!' Chuuya struggled with his ability.

Chuuya insisted that he was a human who grew up in a farm by the sea because that's what his friends showed him, but Verlaine rebutted that it was just fake information fabricated by the military. Suddenly, Adam hacked the handle and turned the car left. The car was then crashed with a truck that filled with fuel nearby and created a mass explosion.

'Humans are mistaken for the word 'lonely',' Verlaine said, 'they know nothing about the true form of loneliness. They thought not having a family or a person to chat with means loneliness.'

'The real definition of loneliness,' Verlaine proceeded with his soft and gentle voice as if singing, 'is wandering in the universe and watching the shooting stars alone inside the vacuum under absolute zero. There is zero possibility that you will be founded by anything or approached by anyone. Thousands years passed and you will still hear nothing. Can you comprehend this feeling? No one can, except you, Chuuya.'

'Please come with me, Chuuya,' Verlaine offered his hand to Chuuya. Adam urged Chuuya not to go.

'Indeed, I understand what you mean,' said Chuuya. 'Before I answer you, I wanna ask you something,' Chuuya proceeded.

'I just had a call with Piano Man, and they said that they were told to have a job. Answer me. Where did those five people go?'

Verlaine laughed, 'I assume you don't need your old friends anymore?' Verlaine opened the trunk in his car, and there's something inside with a sloppy sound. Chuuya's eyes zoomed out.

It was Lippmann's corpse.

Chuuya screamed. He lost his control. He kept punching the broken pieces in the surroundings and moaned and shouted. Verlaine grabbed Chuuya's neck, and found a photograph in his pocket and threw it away.

'There's no way I will like you. Absolutely,' Chuuya's voice was shaking.

'That's fine, because you will choose to follow me at last, and now I will now show you the evidence.' Verlaine used his other hand to cover Chuuya's forehead mildly.

Space was shaking, and there was a mass explosion. There were black and red flames appearing in front of Chuuya.

'Let's open 'the door' by a little bit,' said Verlaine.

'High energy with Hawking Radiation detected,' Adam splitted out the words by default. Adam targeted his bullets on Verlaine's eyebrows, eyeball, throat and arm, but Verlaine stopped the bullets and targeted Adam back. Adam was in pain utterly.

At the same time, Chuuya screamed violently as if losing his soul. A hell occured, it's the black flame. It was exactly the same flame that appeared in the Suribachi City. The high energy melted the surroundings, including all the buildings nearby. There was a black sphere, and Chuuya was in the center of it. He was in pain as you can observe his rupture on his skin, the almost-breaking eyeball and the collapsing organs. Such high energy even distorted the time and space in that area.

Yet, there was a person, standing next to Chuuya. A person with black coat and covered his face with bandages.

'Can you please die more neatly?' said Dazai.

Dazai grabbed Chuuya's wrist, and Chuuya had the ability nullified. He gradually lost his consciousness and closed his eyes.

-

-

Chuuya roughly remembered that Dazai carried him on his back and brought him to the billiards bar. When he woke up at the bar, Chuuya sensed something smelly, it's the smell of blood.

He went inside to the bar, and found Piano Man, Ice Man, Albatross and Doc were all dead. The bar was in a mess as if stormed by hurricanes. He saw Doc's body was separated, and couldn't even find his lower part of the body.

Chuuya then found Albatross with a final breath left. He was relieved when Chuuya found him. 'I will be dead soon,' said Albatross, 'Chuuya, take my bike in my garage, it's all yours,' and that's the final word of him.

'I am going to help you,' Chuuya told Adam with determination, 'I am going to find him, but don't arrest. Kill him.'

'Mafia will not forgive anyone who kills my family.' - - Code:01 Ended

[kass-storycorner]

Oh god, okay hear me out. I suffer from insomnia and I couldn’t get Childes letter out of my head (btw the English version is so much less “I am in love with you” than the German one. He literally says in the German version that he misses us and wants us to visit him, like straight up this is a love letter!! The English version is really toned down in comparison).

So. I know his birthday is over, at least where I’m from. But. I wrote this whole ass fan fic, that is way too long, because I was so inspired by that letter. I’m not really satisfied with the ending, I honestly wanted to add so much more fluff but… I also didn’t want to make this too long, I actually planned for it to be short??? help (also it’s 4am now noooo)

Happy birthday, Tartaglia

Genre: a little bit angsty, fluff, comfort

Rating: SFW, though mentions of kissing and sharing a bed

Content warnings: mention of a family death, Bennett’s bad luck lol but both are unrelated haha

Characters: Tartaglia x gn!reader, a guest appearance of Bennett, mention of Zhongli

Word count: 2,796 words (oooh f*ck haha)

-

You’ve been busy the whole day doing some commissions for the Adventures Guild and were now on your way to Mondstadt, when you heard a familiar voice call your name. “(Y/N)!”, Bennett called out to you and ran into your direction. A deep sigh left your throat, while you enjoyed Bennett’s company most of the time… you had to deal with a ton of your own bad luck today. Not one of the commissions today went the way they usually did, everything that could’ve gone wrong did go wrong. It was honestly just very frustrating, although you couldn’t be really sure if it was because of bad luck or because your mind was somewhere else most of the day. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the tiredness you already felt in your whole body and made your way towards Bennett. No matter what he needed help with you would be sure you could handle it. And in that moment, as the thought of how it wouldn’t be a big deal whatever Bennett had on his chest, you saw how the young adventure tripped over his own feet and fell face forwards into the dirt. ‘Ouch, that must’ve hurt’, you thought while running up to him. “Are you hurt? Here, let me help you up Bennett”, you asked while helping him get up from the ground. All you got as an answer from him was his usual laugh and smile. “Oh man, I really didn’t see that stone. Haha, thanks for the concern though!” You couldn’t help yourself and chuckled at the way he wiped off the dirt from his clothes. “So, what’s up? What do you want from me?.” “Yeah, right! I nearly forgot!”, he exclaimed and started fumbling in his bag. “Oh, got a present for me?”, you asked sheepishly. “Kinda, not really. Here!” Bennett held a letter in his hands, both bandaged again, and stretching it out to you. “A letter? For me?”, you took it in your hands. In a fine handwriting there was your name on it. It didn’t even took you a second for you to register who’s hand writing it was. What a surprise.

Before you could even start to ask Bennett how he got his hands on the letter he was already excitedly explaining it to you. “Today I had a commission on Dragonspine and to be honest, it didn’t really went that well until I ran into this one guy. I accidentally activated a few Ruin guards and well, even the most seasoned adventurer can’t fight more than one of these at a time and sadly the newest members of Benny’s adventure team had to go home again before we made it even to the mountain.”

The thought of Bennett nearly finding his end today on Dragonspine really… it really did not sit right with you. You made a mental note to ask him later who the new members were that ditched him. After you had your talk with them they wished they had stayed with Bennett on Dragonspine. “Well, in that moment when they approached me that one guy showed up and it only took him a few minutes to defeat them all. (Y/N) that was so cool! I tried to recruit him for my adventure team, but sadly he said he was already occupied with something else. Oh man, it would’ve been so cool to have him on my adventurer team, imagine with such an excellent fighter no one would be afraid of my bad luck to join my team.” While you enjoyed Bennett’s enthusiasm you had to interrupt him. “Wait, wait, Bennett. The person who gave you this letter is on Dragonspine?”

“Oh yeah! As I was saying I tried to recruit him for my team, but failed however we talked a bit and somehow he mentioned that he knew you! When I told him we were friends he asked me to give you this letter the next time I saw you.”

You felt how the excitement in you grew. He was on Dragonspine? He was so close to you again? Now you hardly could pay attention to what Bennett continued to say, all that was on your mind was the man, whom you saw the last time months ago in Liyue was so close again. “Bennett,” you interrupted him again. “Thank you so much for the letter, but I really need to get going. Thank you so much!”

And with that you changed your direction and made your way directly to Dragonspine. “Oh? Okay, bye (Y/N)!”, you heard Bennett call after you, but your mind was already occupied with opening that letter he gave you.

With shaking hands you read what stood on that thin paper in that neat and familiar handwriting:

“Hey, comrade! How have you been? You must have traveled far and wide since we last saw each other, right?

For me, I can only seek out some entertainment for myself. These past couple of days, I’ve used a work opportunity to explore Dragonspine and seek out some local specialties. I hope they will be of use to you.

The harsh cold of the snow-capped mountains is reminiscent to the scenery of my hometown…

Sigh, I’ve had many mundane days that makes me nostalgic of our time together. Whether it’s a fight or a challenge, I always feel that having you around is what makes life really interesting.

Haha, to be honest, I’ve been planning a special day to meet up with you, today could be that chance! If you have no special plans, how about you swing by my place?

I miss you, Tartaglia”

Quickly you put the letter in your bag with what accompanied it and now you were basically running towards Dragonspine. Right now you didn’t want to think about what kind of “work opportunity” there could be for the Harbringer on Dragonspine, all you could think about was seeing him again.

It has been months since you both parted ways in Liyue. You met him while being on a commission, funnily enough it was a bit similar how Bennett ran into him today. In one of Liyues ruins you looked for a book some historian in Liyue Harbour desperately tried to get their hands on. By the amount of Mora they were willing to pay it should’ve been obvious to you that it wasn’t a one-person mission… and still, you went alone into those ruins. You had no problem in destroying the first two ruin guards you ran into, but when three activated at the same time… If it weren’t for Tartaglia back then you would probably be dead. At first you were very thankful for his help, however when you found out he was also there for the book you needed your thankfulness quickly turned into anger. “Well, don’t you think I deserve a reward for helping you out, comrade?”, he teased you.

After that day you somehow always managed to run into him in Liyue Harbour or on your commissions. Back then you only knew him by his name used by the Fatui, Childe. Though it was well known in Liyue that he was one of the Harbringers, you somehow didn’t get that message after months of openly antagonising him. Only after Childe invited himself to your usual afternoon teas with your friend Zhongli you learned about his affiliations, but also more about him. If someone was hearing two people bickering, the people of Liyue knew it was you two. However none of it was malicious. Somehow it was the way you and Childe showed each other the appreciation you had for one another.

The first dislike you had for him grew quickly into a warm friendship. And that friendship grew in something more after awhile.

The first time you noticed a change in your feelings towards Childe was around the time of the Lantern rite festival. One night you were supposed to meet up with Zhongli - but Childe showed up in his instead. Apparently, so Childe, there was a lot to do at the Parlour because of a new promotion the director wanted to try and needed Zhonglis help with, so Zhongli asked Childe to accompany you to the Lantern rite.

Until this day you weren’t sure if this was just a set up by Zhongli, but even if it was, you wouldn’t hold it against him.

That night, when you and Childe walked around Liyue Harbour and watched the lanterns something fundamentally changed between the two of you. After that night you knew so much more about him and he about you. From that day on he wasn’t Childe anymore, he was Tartaglia. And both of you finally knew how the lips of the other felt on your own.

Now you were so close again to feel his warm arms around you, to listen to the sound of his heartbeat when you rested your head on his chest and to feel his lips on yours again. Oh how you missed him too.

Parting ways wasn’t easy. Both of you knew that it was best to not be so public with your relationship, for several reasons. On the one hand the Fatui weren’t what you would call popular - most people would use some stronger word to describe them. Being a Mondstadt citizen in Liyue openly dating a member of the Fatui, yeah no. On the other it was also not really well liked by the Tsaritsa for the members of the Fatui, no matter if you were just a low henchman or a Harbringer, to get involved in that way with outsides. With “not well liked” it was more implied that she forbade any romantic relationships outside and inside the Fatui ranks when they were on a mission. And Tartaglia was on a mission, a mission you knew nothing about, but to be honest? You preferred it that way. The longer you were able to ignore what it meant for him to be part of the Fatui, the better.

So because of all of this you both decided it would be best to keep the relationship in the shadows.

You both knew for sure was that you had to part ways one day, however none of you expected that you were the one going home before Tartaglia. There were a lot of nights of laying in bed with him, sharing stories from each of your homes. You told him about the Windblume Festival and Ludi Hapestrum, he told you about the festivals and traditions of Snezhnaya. When you shared stories of how your little siblings and you loved to collect as many dandelions as possible when you were children to pretend that it was snowing in the summer, he would counteract that story with the times he built entire fortresses with his siblings out of the snow in the winter. Only to then pull you closer and whisper in your ear that he’ll show you how to do that when you come with him back to Snezhnaya. You would always whisper back “okay, but first you’d need to glide with me off Startsnatch cliff”. The lovely nights you both spend together, telling each other of your homes and how much you want to show it to them were harshly interrupted by a letter you got from your family.

Life sometimes isn’t fair. It’s hard and it brutal and it’s short. So when you got the letter from your family informing you that the youngest member of the family had died, it broke you to pieces. They were only 14. That night Tartaglia held you in his arms, his hand on the back of your head, your head pressed into his chest and none of you could say a word. Only the sound of you crying piercing the quite room. Too heavy was the grief for anything to be said anyways.

The day immediately after you received that letter you and Tartaglia parted way, a quite and sad goodbye. None of you were actually sure when you would see each other again. With his hands against your tear stained face, the tears not only being shed out of grief but also out of the pain you had to leave your lover, he promised to write you as often as he could. You promised you would answer. And then you left, wishing he could come with you. Words you did not dare to speak, because you knew he couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to.

Now you found yourself close to one of the Fatui camps on Dragonspine. It was quite irresponsible to just run up the mountain, without any proper preparation or knowledge where Tartaglias camp actually was. You sighed. The excitement of seeing him after such a long time, after just exchanging letters got the best of you. Frustrated with yourself you made your way towards the campsite, hoping that this time the Fatui henchmen wouldn’t immediately start attacking every stranger they see. However when you arrived at the camp site you saw that no one was there. Too exhausted from the commissions earlier in the day and running up the Dragonspine you let yourself fall down in front of the extinguished campfire. Slowly but surly the cold weather of the Dragonspine was catching up to you.

Going through your bag you were looking for the stones Tartaglia send with his letter, hoping to ignite a fire with them. But before you could find them you heart footsteps in the snow behind you.

You hadn’t even had the chance to turn around before you felt two arms looping around your body, immediately warming you up.

“Hey comrade, did you miss me?”

You felt his head on your shoulders and you couldn’t help but to lean your own against his. One of your hands made its way up to his face, touching his cheek. “Yes,” you whispered.

Turning your head you now looked into his deep blue eyes, they were filled with all the love he had for you. You wished he could look at you like this forever… that you could look at him forever.

Tartaglia leaned a bit forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips and you couldn’t help it but smile.

He slowly pulled away, entangling himself from the hug and holding his hand out to you. “Come, let’s go inside the tent. You must be freezing out here”.

Inside the tent Tartaglia threw one blanket on another blanket over another over you, while lecturing you on what appropriate clothing was for a weather like this. You really didn’t give it any second thought when you made your way to Dragonspine, still wearing the same clothes you would wear on a sunny day in Mondstadt. But you also couldn’t hide it how much you loved to just hear his voice, even when he was nagging you. “It’s fine really, now stop trying to bury me under all the blankets and warm me up yourself”, you took his hand and pulled him towards you onto the plank. “You know some people would find what you said very suggestiv”, he joked, joining you under the immense amount of blankets. “Mmmmh,” was the only thing you replied, completely enamoured with him having you by your side again. For a few minutes the both of you just laid there, close to each other and feeling each other’s heartbeat.

None of you could actually believe your luck to be in the arms of the other again. How much you had missed this. Missed him.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, making you look into his eyes again. “How you’ve been doing?”.

It was such a soft question and you knew what he meant. You wanted to tell him how exhausting everything has been since your arrival, how your family was breaking apart at all ends, what a shit show it all was. In your letters you only alluded to how bad it actually is. How it was all just made worse by him not being at your side. Though you knew you would have to tell him all of this sooner or later, right now you didn’t want to talk about it. Not in detail. Not when today was actually his special day. “It’s manageable, but better now that I’m here with you”, you replied to his question. “You?”

“Better, now that I have you here”, was his reply. You both smiled at each other, a warm and tender smile. Slowly you adjusted your position so that you now were laying on top of him, your chin on his chest. “Hey, there is something I forgot to tell you.”

“Oh, and what is it?”

“Happy Birthday, Tartaglia”, and with that you kissed him.

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[inknopewetrust]

Manipulate Me

Summary: As Peter travels Europe as a normal kid, the world’s peril throws a wrench in his plans. With you by his side chaperoning the trip as an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D agent, the mysterious introduction of Quentin Beck leaves you breathless. 

Pairing: Quentin Beck/Mysterio x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: None! 

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting this @mrs-blooooom​ ! I had a great time writing for Quentin Beck again. For context, reader is Peter’s older sister but also happens to be a shield agent (it was the easiest route of explanation as to why she would be meeting with Fury and Maria Hill). Requests are currently OPEN and you can check out who I write for in my request guidelines tagged in my bio. Thanks for reading! :) *gif not mine* I do not own any of the dialogue from the film. 

“May-” 

“-And don’t forget the passports! Oh! The passports!” 

“May!” 

May stopped scrambling around the apartment only to find that you had the two passports already in your hand. The tired aunt pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, pushing her glasses back up her nose, and slowly calming down. It was fine... Peter had you, Peter had all his friends, Peter would be fine in Europe. 

“Everything is going to go fine. I’ll be with him at all times and if he decides to wander off and do his Spiderman stuff––well then I’ll just have to call in some Avengers to stop him.”  

“I trust that you’ll be able to keep him out of trouble if it comes down to it.” May picked up Peter’s suitcase off the floor and listened to his heavy footsteps draw down the hallway and into the living room where you had gathered with her. 

“All ready?” He asked with those inquisitively wide eyes that reminded you so much of your mom. May handed him the suitcase but not before capturing the boy in a tight hug. Her “motherly” instincts grew since she returned from the blip. It was strange without the two of them. You, stuck here in New York without a leader in either Fury or Tony and the remaining members of S.H.I.E.L.D, Avengers and then the developed Sword, were left to pick up the pieces and build a life without them. That was the most difficult part. 

“Promise me that you won’t get into any trouble?” May asked Peter who in reply rolled his eyes with a chuckle. 

“It’s just a school trip. Besides, Y/n is going to be there and I’m sure she’s told you a million times that she can keep me in check.” You smacked the side of his head but he just ignored you and turned to the door, opening it with a rough pull with his spider-y force. 

“We’ll see you in a few weeks, May!” 

If you were able to take back all the words you said and never go to Europe, you would ask Stephen Strange to reverse time. 

Venice was a mess. The water-creature-man-thing...? had erupted the small city into a chaotic terror with locals and terrified students trying to find cover. Peter was somewhere flying with webs while another hero whom you had never seen before was assisting him. After a few minutes of trying to guide a group of students to safety, you secured cover underneath an awning in front of a store. 

“Ms. Parker! What do we do!?” Flash was almost in tears from fear which you couldn’t help but judge. It was water? the kid survived Thanos’ snap so he could survive this. Not to mention Fury would have your ass if any of the kids died on your watch. 

Out of nowhere the ground started to fill up with water and cracking of concrete or bricks began echoing throughout the small courtyard you trapped them all in. The green man came swooshing in with a cloud of smoke, almost like an illusion, and stopped the water with the sheer force of his magical abilities. The creature reformed into what looked like a water man and the green man dodged the attack with made the sound of bricks tumbling increase in intensity. Suddenly, the tower to your right began crumbling and you pulled as many students as you could closer to the building you sought shelter next to. 

“Get back! Get back!” 

“Who is that guy!?” Jason, one of the students shouted out but you couldn’t answer the question because you didn’t know. 

“I don’t know, but he’s kicking that waters ass.” Brad voiced exactly what you would have said. 

The green man continued to fight the water as the tower crumbled beside you all and then, like the blink of an eye, the monster was gone and the water scattered, soaking your shoes with a safety that was much welcomed. The man landed to sounds of cheering from the students and locals that found themselves in the same spot as you. But something was different. 

Maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t see his face, or maybe the fact that you had never heard of this hero and you literally worked for the agency that worked with them all. Maybe he wasn’t from this world? Space? Another universe? You could have sworn that you heard of the idea of a multiverse. 

But maybe it was the fact that beneath all that smoke and mirrors that made up the helmet of the mysterious man, it felt as though when he looked around at his admiring fans, his eyes trained on you, staring through your soul with some feeling that wasn’t welcomed or unwanted either. Intrigue, that’s what it was. And when he flew off, everyone was left with a curiosity that sparked a great debate throughout the entire world. Who was this man? 

Well, the T.V. at the hotel identified him as Mysterio. Peter managed to make it back in one piece which you were able to celebrate in a brief moment outside before the voices of interested students and the television interrupted the moment. Betty and Ned were searching every website for some kind of clue but nothing other than what the news reported was to be taken as fact. It wasn’t aliens, it wasn’t witches, it was just another hero. 

So that was what you went with. That was until you opened your door to Fury sitting in a chair next to the window. 

“Oh my God!” You shrieked and Fury laughed, laughed, at you. 

“You scare too easy.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in spa-” 

The slight reveal of a green hand made you shut up. "Fury” tilted his head with a slight “Ah, well.” 

“Is this about that Mysterio guy?” 

“We’ve got him at a site. Says he’s from another Earth and that these creatures destroyed his own and intend to destroy this one too.” 

“Another Earth? So, the multiverse.. it’s real?” 

“Fury” didn’t respond to that, but he simply rose and gestured over his shoulder to the window. 

“There is a car outside. Go and wait in it while I go get Peter. The big man told me I need to scare the kid.” You smiled at the thought as the man left to go retrieve your brother. 

You had been part of the world of superheroes far longer than Peter had. You had been there when Loki first attacked New York way back when and that seemed like so many years ago. With the blip, it seems like an entire eternity. Nick never let you in on his secrets of his relationship with Carol Danvers, but you had met the Skrulls when you went on a mission three months ago to visit Monica Rambeau in space. Unlike her, you weren’t blessed with some badass powers, though she didn’t always have them. 

Peter looked terrified walking out to the car and when he saw you inside, he breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t be alone. The site of S.H.I.E.L.D in Italy wasn’t far from where you had all taken up residence for the last day or two, but it was secluded, down in the catacombs of old buildings that no one would suspect. It reminded Peter of a Mission Impossible movie that you had watched with him before the two of you left for Europe, he felt more like a spy than a superhero in that moment. 

As you walked behind the two down the long corridors of the abandoned treasure that was used as a make-shift S.H.I.E.L.D, you were surprised to see Maria at a computer, though now knowing about Fury, you were sure it wasn’t even her. The center of the room was filled with scattered agents who you weren’t familiar with and then a projection in the middle of the room, along with the man without the helmet. 

You weren’t one for fawning over men. Jesus, you worked with Thor sometimes and while you were aware of his Godly looks, you never gawked. But this man, he wasn’t a God, he was just naturally beautiful. Dark hair, blueish-gray eyes that surely did pierce your soul, and a stature of a man who knew how to carry himself with power in the world. It was like he walked out of your dreams and into reality. 

“This is Mr. Beck.” Fury introduced you and Peter to the man. Mr. Beck approached Peter with a small smile and held out his hand. Peter looked nervous but responded with his own shake. 

“Mysterio?” 

“What?” 

“It’s just what my friends were calling you.” 

“Well, you can call me Quentin. You handled yourself well out there today. I saw what you did with the tower. We could use someone like you on my world.” 

Peter looked puzzled but Quentin looked behind the boy to you. He held out his hand with another smile which you returned. Maybe there was a shock when you touched hands, but you were sure it was just your imagination. 

“Y/n Parker, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

“It’s good to meet you, Y/n.” 

“Likewise.” 

Did time rush by faster when you were in the presence of someone you were obviously attracted to? Yes, because before you knew it, the night was over, and Fury was leading you and Peter back out to the car. Peter was absolutely smitten with Quentin and could hardly break conversation. The man gave the attention to Peter like Tony did. It was like life imitating itself in another time. Quentin reminded you so much of Tony. Smooth with words, handsome, gifted in almost an unfair way, and he took an interest in the last piece of close family you had. You wanted nothing more than for Peter to have a figure in his life to give him a positive purpose. With Tony gone, he’s struggled trying to find his niche again. 

“See you, kid.” Quentin looked disappointed but hopefully that his and Peter’s paths would cross again one day, even with Peter trying to avoid being identified by his class or the world. At some point, someone would figure it out if they hadn’t already. 

“Yeah, see you.” Peter said as he walked out, following Dimitri, who Fury ordered to keep Peter in check with you. You were more than capable of doing it yourself but for some reason, Fury felt the need to send another agent. 

“Good luck, Quentin.” You told him and he nodded his head, glancing at the holographic map of Venice next to him. 

“I fear I’ll need it. But I’m hopeful that the good luck will be for more than just winning this fight.”

Swoon. That’s what you did for the remainder of the night and into the early morning. You couldn’t sleep a wink after the revelations that Quentin relayed to you and Peter about the elementals. That worried you too. How in the world was Peter supposed to sit by while other heroes with indisposed and couldn’t help? Sam and Bucky were on their own missions, Carole and Monica were off, Stephen and Wanda were no use and Thor was off on his own adventures with that team of riff-raffs from space–you know, the one with the talking tree. 

But somewhere in all the jumble of thoughts, the scenery of the canal that had been a scene of something far different, calmed the noise. Enjoy the trip. This was the first time in years that you had traveled for something other than work and yet it was still filling every thought and moment. The thoughts were so loud and invasive that you didn’t register the person coming up to your right, ready to take the bag off your shoulders. You felt the tug and turned around, ready to punch the person but they dogged it, pulling it off your shoulder. It was a game of tug of war for the bag, but the person was strong. 

“Let go! I said let go!” You pulled as hard as you could, therefore the bag came flying back to you and its contents spread across the sidewalk. The person glanced at the wallet on the ground and then back at you before you both dove to the ground. They grabbed it first and you tackled them to the ground. Wrestling with grunts and yells, you hadn’t noticed the audience of one that rushed to help. A blast of green light shot the person off of you and you clutched the wallet to your chest tightly, trying to reel in your ragged breath. 

“I heard yelling from my hotel...” The hero started only to realize that it was you and with a turn of your head, you had realized it was him, Quentin. 

“Oh! Are you alright?” He extended a hand, which you readily took to stand. He then helped collect the scattered items and put them back in the now ripped bag before handing it back to you. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” There was a brief, awkward lull but you weren’t sure what else to say. 

“So, do you always wander around at night in a city you don’t know?” It was an icebreaker, a line that he knew would make you at least chuckle. 

“No... I just had a lot on my mind. What you told us in there–it’s a lot of information to retain.” 

“I’m sure an agent like you could handle it though.” You smiled bashfully at the compliment. Quentin gestured over his shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. You realized he wasn’t wearing his uniform anymore but just a pullover sweater and some dark jeans. How he shot the green light in the first place you didn’t know, but all heroes worked a little differently you suppose. 

“Would you like to take a walk? I promise I won’t try to steal your wallet.” 

“How do I know I can trust you?” The conversation was so light, and carefree that for the first time in a long time, you felt like a normal person. Quentin returned your cheeky smile and began walking. 

“I’m pretty sure a woman like you could figure out who trust and who not avoid. Isn’t that what they train you for? Agents?” 

“I suppose so, yes.” 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked Quentin and he looked at you with a nod of his head. 

“How did you know the elementals would turn up in our Earth?” 

“Intelligence. My wife, she had worked for our version of your agency. Before they came to destroy our city, one had already manifested itself in Mexico. It was as if there would be a pattern to follow. So when she passed, I used her intelligence to figure out where they might be, which led me here.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you, it’s been some time now. She would be glad to see Peter helping me, and you helping out with the cause.” 

“Peter really took a liking to you. I could see it in the way he could barely contain himself.” You laughed, changing the heavy subject to one more light. 

“He’s a good kid. You’re related I assume?” 

“My little brother.” 

“You should be proud of him. He is doing a lot of good for the world. I just wish he was more confident in his abilities to realize identity protect isn’t everything.” 

Quentin was right, it wasn’t everything. But it was more than identity for Peter. It was also no Tony to lead the way, his want to be a normal kid, his need to have friends and well, MJ to like him. But neither of you would know what it was like to be a teen hero, that was a lot of unneeded pressure. 

“It seems that I brought you around full circle.” The sound of Quentin’s voice broke the silence and the realization that you were outside the barely standing hotel. You sighed and tugged the bag on your shoulder. 

“Thanks for saving the day, Mysterio.” 

“Anything to help protect Agent Parker.” 

If you hadn’t just met him a few hours ago, you would have asked him to come upstairs but that was far too forward for the world you created for yourself, so you extended your hand as he had earlier. 

“May our paths cross again.” 

He grasped your hand tightly and agreed. 

“Hopefully under better circumstances.” 

You watched then as he walked away, unaware of the man underneath the facade of Mysterio. How he already knew who you were, knew all your secrets, and was ready to manipulate you to take down the institution that denied him success so many years ago. 

[edenmemes]

uncharted sentence starters

❝ if you’re done lying to me, then you should stop lying to yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s not going to be easy, you know. ❞ ❝ well, it sounds like you’re working for a nutcase. ❞ ❝ make sure that you’re safe. ❞ ❝ look, i wanted to tell you! i wanted to! but how could i? ❞ ❝ see? i’m not just a pretty face. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry for what happened to you. ❞ ❝ i think i have a bit more experience with this thing than you do. ❞ ❝ wait, wait, wait. something about this feels kinda hinky. ❞ ❝ what a warm and homey place, huh? ❞ ❝ i’m willing to forgive and forget. for old time’s sake. ❞ ❝ looks like he was killed. ripped to shreds actually. ❞ ❝ these guys have been tailing me for weeks. thought i lost them. ❞ ❝ should i be flattered, or worried? ❞ ❝ so with our luck, what’s the odds this volcano is going to erupt on us? ❞ ❝ i hope i don’t go to hell for this. ❞ ❝ i can handle this. i’m tough. i grew up with nuns. ❞ ❝ fair warning, last person who betrayed me wound up dead. ❞ ❝ you told me you’d say out of trouble. ❞ ❝ how do i know you’re real? ❞ ❝ don’t ever point a gun at me again. ❞ ❝ make sure that you’re safe. ❞ ❝ i have made a lot of mistakes. a lot. i’m not a perfect man. ❞ ❝ i had a lousy father. lousy childhood. ❞ ❝ sounds terrible. check his wallet. ❞ ❝ let's not forget who walked out on whom. you don't get to be jealous.  ❞ ❝ progress demands sacrafice. ❞ ❝ shut up. i really thought you were gone this time. ❞ ❝ i can’t leave you alone for one minute, can i? ❞ ❝ on a scale of 1-10, how scared were you that i was gonna die? ❞ ❝ i can’t walk away. i’m tired of walking away. ❞ ❝ even an enemy must be fed and sheltered. are you my enemy? ❞ ❝ we can still stop him. i can help you. ❞ ❝ gotta say, you have a real knack for breaking things. ❞ ❝ do as i say not as i do. ❞ ❝ looks like hell spit you back out. ❞ ❝ what’s your story, anyway? ❞ ❝ i don’t take big risks without a good payday. ❞ ❝ i guess it runs in the family, huh? ❞ ❝ you can’t reform the villain and save the day. it’s just not done like that. ❞ ❝ sorry, i just need to get my head back in the game. ❞ ❝ this isn’t our fight. it’s my fight. ❞ ❝ i won’t let them hurt you. ❞ ❝ skip the mind games. you don’t know me. ❞ ❝ no offense, but your ancestor was a right asshole. ❞ ❝ you’re unusually quiet. what’s up your bum? ❞ ❝ that was my last cigarette. ❞ ❝ okay, well, why don’t you just walk away? ❞ ❝ why this obsession? i’m just worried. ❞ ❝ i can’t...i can’t breathe...i just...can’t breathe... ❞ ❝ don’t touch me. get away from me. ❞ ❝ if you let these bastards win - after this - i will never forgive you. ❞ ❝ you’ve got your pride all tangled up in this thing. it’s making you reckless. ❞ ❝ any trouble you shoot first and ask questions later. ❞ ❝ dangerous to be out so late.  ❞ ❝ easy now. look at me. ❞ ❝ my leg! don’t touch it! i know it’s broken! ❞ ❝ are you going to join me, darling? ❞ ❝ this is my gig. you want your share, you play by my rules. ❞ ❝ we don’t get to choose how we start in life. real greatness? it’s what you do with the hand you’re dealt. ❞ ❝ i always felt that we were destined for something great. ❞ ❝ you should relax. you’ll live longer. ❞ ❝ i taught you better than that. ❞ ❝ so that’s a no? felt like a no. ❞ ❝ quit acting like you’re gonna lie down and die, all right? ❞ ❝ i have a spare bed.  ❞ ❝ is there no bottom for your ignorance? ❞ ❝ even cornered dogs bite back.  ❞ ❝ that one is my favourite. it makes your eyes twinkle.  ❞ ❝ admit it. you’re gonna miss this ass.  ❞ ❝ you think i’m a monster, but you’re no different from me.  ❞ ❝ how many people have you killed? how many?  ❞ ❝ you will not stand in the way of destiny.  ❞ ❝ you stick with me, i’ll teach you a few things. ❞ ❝ well, if you’d like, i can tell you where to stick it. ❞ ❝ face it, genius, you’ve been played. ❞ ❝ yeah, keep smiling, asshole. ❞ ❝ i got nothing to prove. ❞ ❝ don’t hand it to me. i’ve had everything handed to me ❞ ❝ you don’t know when to give up, do you? ❞ ❝ you stick your neck out, you’re asking to lose your head. ❞ ❝ oh, and now you’re blushing. ❞ ❝ just so you know, it’s not my first lost city. ❞ ❝ are you always this clever? ❞ ❝ i was trying to rescue you, as a matter of fact. ❞ ❝ you know, at this point, i’ve run out of words. ❞ ❝ what do you say we really ruin this guy’s day? ❞ ❝ whether you die or not, i don’t really care. ❞ ❝ i thought you...i saw you get shot. ❞ ❝ it’s like a camera. you just...point and shoot, right? ❞ ❝ god, who’s being unprofessional now? ❞ ❝ i always knew you were gonna make something of yourself one day. ❞ ❝ let’s just pretend i skipped all of sunday school. ❞ ❝ oh no you didn’t do that. that’s not funny! ❞ ❝ save the world, triumph over evil. ❞ ❝ are you trying to kill me? ❞ ❝ know what i love about partying with a bunch of crooks? nobody cares that you smoke indoors. ❞ ❝ you gave me a goddamn heartattack. ❞ ❝ i’ll die a thousand deaths before i let you win.  ❞ ❝ i didn’t tell you because i was afraid...of losing you. ❞ ❝ what ever happened to just living a normal life? ❞ ❝ even if you think you’re protecting me, you don’t have a right to shut me out like that. ❞ ❝ i mean... thanks for saving me. ❞ ❝ en garde, dickhead. ❞ ❝ i love you. ❞ ❝ come on! we can get out of here together. ❞ ❝ everything i touch turns to shit. ❞ ❝ how did you find me anyway? ❞ ❝ i’ve got my eye on you. ❞ ❝ you were going to sell me out, weren’t you? ❞ ❝ love to know what you’re thinking. ❞ ❝ well, well, well. get it? ‘cause you know, it’s a well. ❞ ❝ it’s a shame we’re leaving empty handed though. ❞ ❝ okay...yeah...how do i look? ❞ ❝ thank me after we get out of this alive. ❞ ❝ you’re lucky that i found you when i did. ❞ ❝ they’re just saying that because it gets to you. ❞ ❝ look, if you’re into shady stuff it’s totally cool. ❞ ❝ ha. that’s my girl. ❞ ❝ i made a promise that i was done with this life. ❞ ❝ listen, sunshine, the world doesn’t care. ❞ ❝ well, that’s it. now you know everything. ❞ ❝ don’t even think about not coming back. ❞ ❝ you know, i shot the man who told me that. ❞ ❝ i thought that i’d be satisfied. instead, i’m left with this strange feeling of emptiness.  ❞  ❝ as thrilling as the next adventure may be, in the end, you’re always left with that same feeling. ❞ ❝ you know, i didn’t think i could trust you either. ❞ ❝ i almost lost you once before. i just can’t do that again. ❞ ❝ don’t even think about not coming back. ❞ ❝ that’s it! no compassion! no mercy! ❞ ❝ sentimentality in this line of work will get you killed. ❞ ❝ i need your help...and you need mine. ❞ ❝ i kept your tears in a jar. ❞ ❝ i expected you to have my back.  ❞ ❝ tell you what. when i get back, pizza’s on me. ❞ ❝ death. it smelled like death. ❞ ❝ so they have beaten you, eh? your quest’s over?  ❞ ❝ you listen to your mum, okay?  ❞ ❝ trust me - your ego will mend.  ❞ ❝ i hope i live to regret this.  ❞ ❝ these men were all shot.  ❞ ❝ be a lot easier just to let go.  ❞ ❝ what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say?  ❞ ❝ seems like i am always saving your ass. ❞ ❝ i never asked for any of your bloody heroics. ❞ ❝ the guys in prison used to say, ‘you can steal to eat or you can steal to get rich.’ i say, why not both?  ❞ ❝ you were never a chocolate and flower kinda girl.  ❞ ❝ i don’t have your luck. people like me know when to walk away from the table.  ❞ ❝ appreciate the update, captain obvious.  ❞ ❝ you made your choice.  ❞ ❝ don’t tell me you’re buying all into that supernatural nonsense.  ❞ ❝ i couldn’t sleep last time i saw that.  ❞ ❝ it’s actually nice working with a woman for a change. ❞ ❝ i’m lucky you’re on my side. ❞ ❝ do you really think all this really could be true?  ❞ ❝ you know, it’s kind of romantic down here.  ❞ ❝ just wish i’d brought something to read.  ❞ ❝ you can relax. we’re safe here. ❞ ❝ i am surrounded by traitors and fools.  ❞ ❝ just don’t get us killed. ❞ ❝ what are you shaking for? ❞ ❝ parents must be worried about you. ❞ ❝ i wonder what you’re really scared of...not bullets, or blood, or broken bones... ❞ ❝ i don’t need your bullet-ridden-corpse on my conscience. let’s go. ❞ ❝ yeah, i’m fine. oh, but - you’re bleeding. ❞ ❝ i do seem to attract the scum of the earth. ah - no offense. ❞ ❝ all this grandeur, hidden away from the world.  ❞ ❝ if we don’t make it out here, i just want you to know - i hate your guts. ❞ ❝ i’ve got a bad feeling about this place. ❞ ❝ that’s my blood. that’s my blood. that’s a lot of my blood. ❞ ❝ you should play the hero more often. it suits you. ❞ ❝ eyes ahead, don’t look down. ❞ ❝ here - grab my hand. ❞ ❝ no matter what it is, you’re supposed to come to me so we can work it out together… as a team.  ❞  ❝ you know nothing is ever truly destroyed. just purified and reborn.  ❞ ❝ you just - totally crushed that moment. you know that, right?  ❞ ❝ you’re a selfish dickhead.  ❞ ❝ i do speak a little bit of ____, you know. wait, what did you say? ❞ ❝ i know you. you’re no hero.  ❞ ❝ i wish you could’ve been there. ❞ ❝ hey, are you happy? ❞ ❝ you’re not gonna pass out on me or nothing, are you? ❞ ❝ look, i...um....i’m not good with the whole people thing.  ❞ ❝ i’ve had worse nights, believe me.  ❞ ❝ let’s find somewhere a little more private. ❞ ❝ hey, take it easy. you’ve been out for almost half an hour.  ❞ ❝ to rule people, you first must sow chaos.  ❞ ❝ it’s not stealing if it was mine to begin with. ❞ ❝ take me with you. ❞ ❝ i’m left with this strange feeling of emptiness.  ❞  ❝ anyone ever tell you, you have a funny idea of romantic?  ❞  ❝ it’s nothing that years of therapy won’t fix.  ❞ ❝ no. it’s my turn to walk away.  ❞  ❝ nothing about our lives have been fair, but we’ve made it work. ❞ ❝ your people will beg me to save them.  ❞ ❝ we’re not on a first-name basis.  ❞ ❝ you know nothing about me.  ❞ ❝ do tell. maybe over some drinks?  ❞ ❝ we must keep to the shadows.  ❞ ❝ hey, you cool? ‘cause i need you to be cool.  ❞ ❝ you must be tired of these lectures. i know i’m tired of giving them. ❞ ❝ here, take this. you’ll catch a cold. ❞ ❝ is that a sin? i think that’s a sin. ❞

[jjfics]

On The Run | 01

ship: Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader 

summary: The Hargreeves have to leave the Academy behind and run away to Dallas, Texas. The Reader is a lot more anxious than Five and thats understandable, but they need to focus.

series: read part 2 here

author: jane jack aka your girl jjfics 

words: 1950

warnings: mentions of blood, death and murder, (feelings of uncertainty and anxiety, flashbacks) and lots of angssst (why do i love writing angst thoughh??)

a/n: there will definitely be a part 2 so keep those notifications in checkk

It felt as if you could read everyone else’s thoughts through the silence. The car kept moving at a fast speed as you passed cities and villages. From time to time you would worry Five was going to lose control of the car, but he never even flinched. 

He just looked at the road before you; stress and worry were clear in his eyes. There was so much he needed to figure out. Who were you going to be from now on? And him? And his siblings? Were you going to hide forever? 

“Five” you whispered. He didn’t hear you. Or maybe he did and he chose to ignore you. “Five” you said again, this time catching his attention. 

He turned to look at you for a moment and then he focused on the road again.“What?” 

“Can we stop for 5 minutes at the next gas station, please? I have to wash my hands.” you said quietly looking down. 

He pursed his lips before he spoke again. “No.” Five was just being direct. The more time it took you to get to Dallas, the more vulnerable you became. 

Dallas…

You fell through the vortex a couple of months before Five arrived. With no idea where the others went or how to find them, it was really just you, all alone. You were the last one Elliot took a picture of before the chaos of the second apocalypse began. The alley was strange, and so were the people. Everything was different here. You were disoriented and scared. According to the confused strangers when you asked them the date, you were somewhere way before your birth.

First thing you realise when you don’t even have a home anymore is that you need money. It can be so crucial. But how will you, a nobody in the 60s, survive if all you knew how to do, was sing? Music was how you met your best friend Vanya for the first time: at an audition. And after that followed the concerts. The public loved the two of you.

So you did what you did best. 

One day, while walking aimlessly on the busy streets, searching for a place selling cheap food, you started singing your favourite song. A song no one around had ever heard, a song you danced to with Five once. People started to gather around you and listen as you went on. This was it, this is where you were in your element. Your father forced you to take singing lessons when you were four. You didn’t enjoy it at first, but you grew up to love it. People clapped and left you money before going on about their day. So you ended up spending the entire day there. By nightfall you had been given enough money for the whole week. 

You were leaning on a cold brick wall and eating a sandwich when you saw someone drop a newspaper. Curiously, you grabbed it and were shocked by the headline. 

“Young woman sings in front of a bakery stealing every Texan’s heart. Who is the mysterious singer to whom many would empty their pockets for a show? 

You had been living in an apartment above The Rosemary Club, the place you worked at now. You sang almost every night and earned a lot of money and visitors for your boss, so he let you stay there. 

One night, you had a special visitor. He wasn’t there to see you specifically; he was working, just like you. Luther went everywhere his boss went, he was his bodyguard. You made eye contact a couple of times but never spoke on that evening. You couldn’t even look at him without cringing away. Not after what he did to Vanya. Five might say that she’s the bomb, but in your mind, that bomb was pretty much activated by Luther.He tried to talk to you but you avoided him as much as possible. 

“y/n! Wait, stop running away, God!” 

“What do you want, Luther?” you gave him a cold look.

“To talk to you? Isn’t that what normal people do after they haven’t seen each other for a long time?” he asks. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” you said and ordered a drink. 

“Jesus, y/n, what's wrong with you?”

“Do I have to remind you that we’re here because of you?”

“Because of me? What do you mean, didn’t you see how Vanya literally destroyed the M-”

“Shut up. I don’t care.” you cut him off. “Have you met anyone else besides me, you stalker?”

“No.” he admitted. ”I tried searching for Allison but they haven’t found her yet.” 

“Right. Amazing. Five? No news about him either?” His expression softens. He knew about your relationship with Five, and how much you two meant for each other. 

“No, I’m really sorry. I don’t know where he is…” his voice only getting smaller when he saw the disappointment in your eyes.

You looked up from your drink and to the big man next you. “Then you can leave. I have to go get dressed.” You put your glass on the counter and left.

Your days in Dallas were easy. Life was always the same and you knew what to expect. Sometimes Luther and his boss would show up at the club and you would ignore each other. You sang, you were introduced to some people and you would make small talk with the bartender. Day after day, always missing your friends. Missing 2019. Missing Five. Your life was easy, but you were alone for the most part. You missed cuddling with Five before you went to sleep together and then waking up in his arms. You missed how he would come and pick you up after practise. How he would kiss you after every concert and tell you how proud he was of you. You missed him truly. 

The bow to the public mixed with a charismatic smile and a wave was how you always ended a good show. Walking off stage you rolled your eyes when you saw who came towards you. 

“There’s someone who would like to talk to you.” he said with a stupid smile planted on his face.

“I’m on break.” you tried to walk away. Luther grabbed your arm and spun you around so you would be facing him again. “Hey! What are you doing? Back off!”

“Believe me, y/n, you really should go talk to him” 

You eyed him suspiciously. “Well alright then.” you said sarcastically. “But keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” he said and stepped to the side . “Come with me, he’s waiting outside.” he babbled before leading you to the main entrance of the club, one which neither of you used. This all seemed sketchy. If he was trying to kidnap you, I’d be no surprise. 

The air outside was cooler than usual. You crossed your arms and huffed. 

And then you saw him. Right there, alive and in front of you. He was well. He survived. 

He was still wearing his uniform, which was clean. He must've just arrived. 

You ran to him as fast your red heels allowed you to and he met you with a warm embrace. He still smelled exactly like himself. A day to him, months for you. Is this what it felt like for him when he was stuck in the future? You hugged him tight and inhaled his scent deeply trying to forget all these nights you cried, hoping he would come through the door and hug you. Hoping he would materialize in front of you like he did for his father’s funeral.

The man still looked young, but you knew damn well who he was. He wasn’t someone you’d forget that easily. Finally, he was here, with you. 

He pulled away and it almost pained you. It was crazy, of course, to think that after all this time you’d lose him again, but even as much as moving an inch scared you now that he was right here. 

“y/n.”

“Five”

Your lips melted together in the most awaited kiss of the century. Of all time maybe. His hands glued themselves to your waist again and you saw him perfectly in the dim light of the alley.

Your eyes were empty. You wanted to wipe your hands but the blood on them had dried already. 

“Five, please I need to wash my hands. I need to- I- I have to wash it all away- Please” 

He hated that he had to hear you beg and yet he couldn't stop. It’s for her own safety, it’s for our safety, he would think. 

“y/n we can’t stop now. Even 5 minutes could mean our deaths right now. Please understand” 

And you wanted to understand. You wanted to stay calm just like the rest, but they were trained. They’ve done such things before. You however, didn’t. Everytime you looked at your lap you saw her again. Laying there, lifeless. You saw the knife as it fell from your hands, making an awful sound when it hit the floor. Maybe if you’d wash them, the flashbacks would stop. 

“Please, I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t be like this. This is not- It’s not-” 

Your breath was uncontrolled. Everytime you closed your eyes, you saw her again. Everytime you would inhale, she would exhale for the last time, again, and again, and again. You were fully sobbing now. 

Vanya’s hand softly touched your shoulder from the back seat and you flinched. “Shh, it’s just me” she cooed “It’s just me” 

You tried to relax a bit and then spoke again, hoping to get it right this time.

“I’m a bad person, Five. I just killed an innocent woman and… and I have her blood all over my hands.” you looked at him to find he was already looking at you. Guilt and regret were visible on his face. “I’m a killer, Five.” you wept. 

He reached your cheek with one hand and wiped your tears away. “She wasn’t innocent” he stated. “She’s killed many people.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m any less of a killer” 

“Well, then. I’m a killer too. More or less than my siblings here. So we are all on the same team.” he spoke calmly, as if the Hargreeves discussed murder at the dinner table every evening. Thinking about it twice there’s a big chance they did, when the old man was still alive at least.

“But you killed to survive, Five. You had to. I didn’t but she’s dead now.”

He huffed in annoyance. She’s not used to this. Take it slowly, he thought.

“You had to, too, y/n. It was self defence. If it wasn’t her then… well then let’s not think about it” he finished. Then I would be the one dead, you added, but only in your head because you knew how much he hated thinking about anything bad happening to you. He wanted you safe. You wanted him safe.

“Okay then. But as soon as we’re in Dallas we’ll stop and get new clothes.” you started to come back to your senses again. Right. You need to get to the city and find a way to trick the Commision. Or maybe you needed to hide. Or just freshen up and get on the road again. You didn’t know exactly what you were going to do, but if anyone found the map Diego was holding in his lap right now, they’d know exactly what your first stop was going to be. The Rosemary Club.

[detectivesofty]

ex’s and oh’s | j.h.

Summary: your ex and your partner, whom you have feelings for, walk into an interrogation room. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke right?

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Partner!Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Spirits by The Strumbellas also a rewatch of Season 4 of Chicago P.D.

Author’s Note: sorry for the delay, I was watching a movie with my dad and forgot the time! This has literally everything. Romance, action, excitement. READ IT! PS: The part with the interrogation might confuse you a bit, be sure to read it carefully to know who’s talking to whom!

Warnings: mentions of alcoho, child abduction, death and guns

Word Count: 3,229 words

“You’re late.”

“Don’t I know it, Sarge.”

Normally you exchanged more than a few words with Sergeant Platt when you came to the district in the morning, but this morning you were late. This week you caught a case of abducted kindergarten kids and it’s been especially hard on you. Unsurprisingly, Jay knew about it, even though you’ve adamantly insisted that nothing was wrong, and came over  with a bottle of wine.  

“They’re already questioning the witness upstairs, giggles.”

You threw a thumbs up in her direction before placing your palm on the scanner, waiting for the buzz of the door impatiently, immediately pulling the door open when it did buzz. Hurrying up the stairs, you threw a collective ‘morning, hey’ into the bullpen and knocked on Kim’s desk as a form of greeting while you walked by, finally reaching your own desk, across from Jay’s, which was conspicuously empty.

His empty seat already had your head gears turning and you glanced at Kim, who was already looking at you quizzically. It took her only a few seconds to interpret your face.

“He’s questioning the witness. In the interrogation room,” Kim said, making you jump up and lock your gun into the locker. 

“Y/N, wait-”

But you already disappeared around the corner into the observation room, where Voight was standing with his arms crossed. You made two steps into the room when you stilled, your eyes stuck on what was happening in the other room.

“So you’re telling me that you were right across the street while 15 kids were being abducted and the only thing you saw was a white van?”

“Man, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not like I knew what was going on.”

“A bunch of kids being herded into a white van didn’t appear suspicious to you?”

“What the hell is Jay doing in there with my ex?” You sputtered and Voight only blinked at you. 

“Don’t tell me he’s the witness.”

“He’s actually the only one we’ve got,” Voight replied and you scoffed, leaning your hand against the glass. 

“Why the hell are you so riled up? Do you think I had something to do with it?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“The jerk’s right though, why is Jay being so antagonizing?”

“Why do you think?” Voight said dryly and you pressed your lips together, shaking your head slightly when you thought about what had happened last night. 

“I told you I am fine,” you said with a sigh, but still opening the door wide enough so Jay could come in. 

“And I told you that you need to stop lying to me for two reasons,” Jay answered, leaning against the wall. “One, I am literally a detective. And two, I am your partner. You can’t lie to me.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed the door shut and walked to the living room with Jay hot on your heels. While you took a place on the couch, Jay wandered into your kitchen to grab two wine glasses. It was weird how he felt much he felt at home at your apartment. Handing him a corkscrew, Jay quickly opened the wine bottle and poured two glasses, offering you one. 

“So. Talk to me.”

With a long sigh, you accepted the wine glass and swirled the wine in the glass, before taking a sip. You weren’t good at talking about feelings. You were good at making jokes, telling stories, nagging other people. But you rarely got raw and honest about what you felt. Jay was the same. The two of you never openly talked about your feelings for each other. You knew he loved you, but did he love you the way you loved him?

“They’re just kids, Jay. Innocent children in a kindergarten. Why would anyone abduct them? And what are they planning on doing with them? Who does something like this?” You threw the questions into the room, not expecting an answer. “I really love my job. I know we’re helping a lot of people, but this?” 

You let out a sharp exhale and Jay gently pried the wine glass out of your hand, putting glasses on the coffee table. Without anything to hold, your shaky hands dropped into your lap before Jay clasped your hands in his, effectively stopping the shaking. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he said softly and you lifted your eyes to meet his. “I know this job is tough, but you can’t keep focusing on the bad stuff. How many times have you told me that? So now it’s your turn to believe, hm?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Jay gave you a look and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m always right.” 

You snorted with a roll of your eyes and then gave him a push so he’d fall back on the couch, but he quickly grabbed your wrists, so you fell with him. 

“You dimwit!” You exclaimed in between laughs, leaning your arms on his chest. 

“You pushed me first!”

It was then that you realized how close you were. You swallowed thickly and tried to focus your eyes on anything but his mouth, like all the freckles dusted across his face, his beautiful green eyes and eventually, your eyes still ended up on his lips. It looked like he was looking at yours and your tongue reflexively darted out to wet your lips. 

The tension was so thick, you almost felt it all around you and at this moment, you thought to yourself: this is it. Maybe this is where Jay would reveal his true feelings for you.

But your hopes were too high.

Jay quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, before he gently rolled over, lying next to you. There was a brief silence and then Jay clapped into his hands, as if he’d wanted to clear the air. 

“You down for some pizza?”

“Yeah… Sure.”

The night passed relatively normal after that, but that one moment still lingered in both of your minds, especially in yours. Maybe he didn’t see you as more than a partner and friend. And now you have to watch Jay drilling your ex, out of all people in Chicago? God really liked to torture you. 

“How about you stop dicking around and tell me what happened before I arrest you for obstruction of justice?”

“Obstruction of-” Your ex jeered and then paused, furrowing his brows. “Wait a minute. You’re Y/N’s partner, aren’t you?”

You wished you could see Jay’s face instead of his back. 

“That’s Detective Y/L/N to you,” Jay said, his voice dropping lower. 

“Alright, that’s it, I am pulling him out. Burgess, you and me,” Voight said and headed out of the room. You hadn’t even noticed Kim in the doorway, and she just gave you a sympathetic look before she followed Voight into the interrogation room. 

“Halstead, take a break now,” Voight ordered as he opened the door. Jay threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Sarge, I-”

“I said now!”

“Yeah, Halstead, take a break,” your ex taunted and Jay slapped the table, making him flinch when he pointed a finger at him. 

“Do not test me, you jagoff.”

With that, Jay pushed his chair back and Kim and Voight sat down across from him. Your ex, quickly having regained his composure, grinned at the two of them.

“Thanks for saving me, Halstead’s a real hothead, huh?”

“Shut your mouth.”

You stopped paying attention to the interrogation when you saw Jay walk past the open door, freezing when he saw you. 

“Y/N? How long have you been here?”

Shaking your head with a scoff, you exited the room, shouldering past him. 

“Y/N, wait, I can explain!”

You didn’t. Ignoring everyone’s eyes, you walked straight to the break room and you were about zero percent surprised when Jay followed you in there, shutting the door behind him. Still, you ignored his presence and grabbed a mug to pour yourself a coffee.

“Earth to Y/N, I am talking to you,” Jay exclaimed and laid a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. 

“I am trying to drink my coffee here, Halstead.”

Jay sighed and gave you a look. “Really? You’ve resorted to calling me by my last name now?”

“What do you want, Jay?” You asked, putting an unnecessary emphasis on his name just to bug him. 

“Oh my god,” Jay muttered, massaging his temples before he turned his attention back to you. “Listen. I know I shouldn’t have been so aggressive but he’s such a dick, I couldn’t help myself.”

“You always thought that he was a dick and tried to be civil to him. But you treated him like a hostile suspect in there, even though he’s the only witness in this fucking case. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jay rubbed his chin ruefully and shrugged with his shoulders. “I just lost my cool, okay. I wasn’t actively trying to destroy this case.”

“You never lose your cool unless it’s something personal.”

“Well, this was personal. You’re my partner. He treated you like shit, ergo personal.”

He was making excuses up and both of you knew it. 

“That was a year ago, I am fine. I don’t need you to fight for my honor.”

“Cheating on your girlfriend doesn’t have a statute of limitation and-”

“What the hell Jay!” You suddenly exploded, startling him. “Stop saying stupid shit and just be honest with me. This is bullshit! Last night you came over all like ‘I am your partner, you can’t lie to me’ shit and now you have the audacity to lie to me when it’s literally about me?”

Jay heaved out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. You’re right, I am sorry, I shouldn’t lie to you… I just don’t know how to tell you this.” He paced back and forth, while you looked at him expectantly, soon he turned back to you. 

“I-” Jay began, but broke off again, cursing before he cupped your face and kissed you. 

Even though you were still mad at him, you could feel your resolve slowly melting away as he kissed you and while you were shocked for a split-second, you kissed him back the moment you had realized what was happening. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been kissing when Jay slowly pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry, this is probably the least appropriate place to do this, but I figured if I can’t find the words, I’ll act instead,” he mumbled softly and you nodded, not finding any words. Your head was whirring, trying to form a sentence, but before anything could come out of your mouth, someone knocked on the door and the two of you sprang apart.

“Hey, I hate to interrupt you guys,” Adam said, leaning in the doorway, “but Antonio tracked the white van your SOB ex described and it’s parked outside a warehouse in Oakly Boulevard. We gotta go right now.”

You and Jay looked at each other, faces incredibly serious. You knew this had to wait right now. 

“We’ll talk later,” you promised him and he gave a curt nod, before the two of you followed Adam to save some lives.

“Everyone in position?”

It was a couple hours later and your team was sitting outside the warehouse where the kids were held. The weather was gloomy, and even though it was only a few minutes past four pm, the sun has already set, engulfing the warehouse in darkness.

“Burgess and I are on the roof boss, we’re ready.”

“We’re good, Kev is ready to take down the door.”

Jay glanced at you, hands on his radio. “You good?” You swiftly broke the lock and gave him a thumbs up, before he gave his confirmation through the radio to Voight, who was running point outside of the building. 

“Okay. Remember, quiet and stealthy. Right now we count all fifteen kids and 4 offenders inside and 3 outside standing watch. We do not want to tip them off, who knows what they might do. The most important thing is to get the kids home to their families alive, you hear me?”

Everyone voiced their understanding. 

“Good. Go.”

“We’re in,” you spoke quietly into the radio, silently moving through the dark warehouse. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you could hear people talking from a room where light was coming from. 

“We got the pricks outside,” Adam said.

“We’re through the west entrance, hostages seem to be kept in the break room, two offenders with them and three are walking the warehouse, keep your eyes open,” You heard Kim’s voice crackling through your earpiece and you stilled when you saw a flashlight bouncing off the walls. 

Turning back to Jay, you pointed two fingers in that direction and he nodded before he disappeared into the dark. You quickly walked towards the flashlight and a few seconds later you could hear a grunt and a body hitting the floor.

“One suspect down,” you informed the team. “We’re getting closer to the breakroom, I can hear two of them arguing.” 

There were two doors leading into the room and you glanced at Jay. 

“You go in, I’ll distract them,” he whispered and the two of you split up, quietly moving toward the open door. Through the crack, you saw two men, standing in front of the children, waving guns around. The children looked scared, but otherwise okay. You felt a bit relieved, though you knew that this was not over yet.

“I told you,” one of them said, getting in the face of the other man, “We’re waiting for the parents to contact us, we left them a message-” A clatter outside the room made him pause and he quickly looked around, alarmed. “Someone’s here. Go check if where the others are.”

His partner rushed through the door and the shot caller aimed the gun at the kids. “If you even think about running, I will kill all of you,” he threatened and as you moved in, you pointed your gun at his head.

“I don’t think so, jackass. Hands up and put the gun on the floor, now.” You could hear the offender cursing under his breath before he carefully dropped the gun to the floor. Kicking the gun away, you moved closer until the nuzzle of your gun was pressed against the back of his head. 

“Get on your knees.”

You were surprised that he was so compliant and threw some handcuffs on. Then, you slowly put your gun back in the holster, turning to the kids. 

“Hey, hi kids. It’s okay, I am a detective, you’re safe now okay?” You told the kids with an assuring smile, checking them over. “Is everyone alright? Anyone hurt?” The kids shook their heads and you sighed in relief. 

“I got the kids, waiting for confirmation until all offenders are down. Jay, what’s your-”

“Watch out!” the kids cried and you felt a gun against the back of your head. 

Fuck. 

“Turn around and do not reach for your gun,” the man said and as you turned around, you realized it was the man from before. He looked nervous and drops of sweat were running down his temples. 

“Kids, get behind me,” you said in a calm voice, not wanting to scare them.

“Wyatt, what do you want me to do with her?” he asked and Wyatt grunted, his face contorted in anger. 

“Just kill her and get me out of these cuffs Zac, we’re about to be swarmed with police.”

You saw the hesitation in Zac’s eyes. “Hey, Zac.”

Zac turned his eyes on you and you held your hands higher. “Zac, right?” He nodded, his  eyes flitting over to Wyatt when he screamed out.

“Don’t listen to her! Get me out of these cuffs!”

“Zac, ignore him and listen to me, okay?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jay inching closer, his gun aimed at Zac. You shook your head ever so slightly and Jay nodded, keeping his aim, but not pulling the trigger just yet. 

“I know you don’t want to do this. You can still get out of here, it does not have to end like this. Look at all these kids. They’re innocent. Whatever you want to achieve, I promise there’s another way, okay?”

You could see that Zac was really listening to you, as he slowly lowered his gun, but Wyatt kept screaming at him. 

“HEY! If I go to prison because of you I will fucking kill you!”

Zac balled his hands into fists and as the desperation clouded over his face, you knew this was a lost cause. He straightened his arm, his gun on you. 

“I am sorry,” he pressed out. 

“NO!”

A shot rang through the room and blood splattered all over your face, the kids screaming out. You exhaled deeply and blinked slowly, watching Zac fall over limply. You were so close to saving him.

“Hey, Y/N you alright?” Jay asked, rushing over to you and you nodded, holding onto his bicep for support while he patted you down. Wyatt was still kneeling on the floor, cursing loudly, not even bothered by the fact that his partner just died in front of him.

“I am fine. Let’s get the kids out of here,” you told him and he nodded, herding all the kids together to lead them outside. 

Several ambos were already waiting outside to check on the kids as the offenders were being taken away. You watched with a small smile as a handful of cars pulled up, and parents started piling out, calling for their kids. 

A hand laid on your shoulder and when you turned, Voight was giving you one of his rare smiles. “Good job, Y/N. Do you need a medic?”

“It’s not my blood,” You said, wiping your sleeve over your face. “Thanks Sarge.”

Voight clapped your back affectionately and then walked off to take care of the offenders, while you looked around, finally catching Jay’s eyes across the street. He tilted his head to the side and you gave a tired nod, picking up your feet to where Jay’s GMC was parked. 

He was waiting by the driver’s door, but instead of getting in the passenger’s side, you walked up straight to him, laying your head on his chest. Jay wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. 

“Today was good, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, not wanting to pull away just yet. “Can’t believe it started with you yelling at my ex.”

Jay breathed out a laugh before he pulled away, holding you at an arm's length. “Listen, about that-”

You effectively cut him off by placing your lips on his, kissing him gently. Immediately he kissed you back and cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you as if you were delicate. You pulled away after a few seconds and smiled up at him. 

“I think I got it,” you told him quietly and he beamed at you, tucking your hair back. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.“

You knew that you’d have to have this conversation eventually, probably later that day. But for now, this was enough.

Taglist: @toomuchtv95​ // @miranda0102​ // @annaallicce​ // @galacticsmoon​

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 36

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: the next chapter is gonna be the last one and i think i’m gonna need therapy. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was dressed in a baby pink and white tweed two piece, her almond white heel hitting the ground as she looked around the same halls she used to run as a child. Yet, this time everything seemed a bit more somber, the red of the walls seemed to almost swallow her in her own mind. Everything seemed a blur to her, from Dan showing up at the house with most of Mr. Forrest’s men to Sebastian being taken away. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, all she knew was that she had been moved around by Dan and several other associates from place to place until she had finally been placed in her old bedroom of her childhood home. However, the home no longer felt like home and as she waited outside Mr. Forrest’s office, fingers picking at the fabric of the very expensive skirt which for the first time seemed to fit her like a second skin. 

The door opened and one of the maids gave her a kind smile before pulling the door completely open. She stood up on her heels, wondering what awaited her behind the threshold into the office of the man she had just discovered was her father. Not that it was a completely bad new, Mr. Forrest had never been anything other than kind to her but it was odd. It was odd that the father she always wished would be around during Father’s day, who would come to see her recitals had always been there but at the same time it wasn’t. He had always been in the crowd, unbeknownst to her and as she stepped inside his office and looked at the man she had seen ever since was little standing up, staring at her as if she would disappear at any minute, she wondered how she felt. Between Sebastian and being moved around like a lost package hadn’t given her enough time to even consider how she felt about her actual parentage. The young just turned heiress wasn’t sure how she felt about actually having one parent alive yet being somehow the reason as to why her mother wasn’t around anymore.

    - I know you probably have several questions, Y/N. - his voice trembled, almost in fear of what his daughter had pent up inside of her. - If you allowed me, I would like to explain it to you what really happened.

    - I guess. - her hands held the top of the chair, not sure if she should sit or not. 

    - I really loved your mother. I met her at the Opera, I swear I can still hear her voice in the quiet of the night ... I nicknamed her Robin, gave her the necklace you’re wearing. She loved you so much, she painted your nursery herself, spent hours and hours deciding on a name before finally sticking with Ella and would constantly read you her favourite books even before you were born. We were so ready to have you but after your mother I just, I just couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I thought many times about placing you with some of my associates but then they put you in my arms and I saw your mother’s eyes on you, how tiny you were, I just couldn’t let you go. I do realise it was selfish of me and I know you probably will never forgive me for lying all these years but all I did was to protect you ... Not that it worked very well in the end. 

Y/N just starred at the powerful man in front of her lay it all down. Maybe it was her curse to get powerful man at their most vulnerable yet Y/N just couldn’t be mad. She knew she should be mad, she should be mad that all this time she had a father, she had a completely different name in her mother’s eyes without even mentioning being in the shadow. Yet, she couldn’t be mad, when she looked at him all she saw was a man who had lost the woman he loved and the opportunity of having a daughter, or at least having her the way everyone ordinarily had one. 

She sighed, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she walked closer to the old man, wrapping her arms around him. What use was it be mad? They had both lost something, something important and while Y/N had lost her mother, he had lost the woman he loved. As much love Y/N held for the mother she never knew, her father had lost the woman he had loved and the opportunity to have an ordinary lifestyle. She was in no place to be mad at someone who had lost so much.

   - I forgive you. - she took a step back, her eyes slightly glancing to the little robin attached to the golden chain. 

   - We should get some dinner. I would love to show you some photos from when your mother was pregnant. 

   - I would love to but I’m afraid I have to check on someone. - Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if she should mention her relationship with Sebastian. She had mostly begged Daniel not to mention it and while Gwen had jetted off the moment she didn’t have to get married anymore, she was wise enough not to drop it on her newly found father that she was not only in a relationship with the man who was supposed to marry Gwen just a few weeks ago but also pregnant. Either way, she wanted to go check on Sebastian. No matter how much she asked, no one would tell her anything and her phone had been removed right when they both were rescued from Mr. Williams. - Maybe later on?

   - Make sure you take Daniel with you. - Y/N nodded as one of the employees escorted her outside the study and back to the hallway where Dan was.  She gave him a playful smile before walking up to whom she guessed she now had to call her step-brother, not that he hadn’t act like one since she was a little girl. 

   - Tweed? Starting to dress like an heiress, Y/N? 

   - One of the maids left it in my bedroom. - she twisted her foot slightly behind her, a bit of heat climbing up to his cheeks. - Mr. Forrest, I mean, my father said I need to take you if I wanna go somewhere. 

   - It’s okay, he only told me he was his father when I was 10. You get used to it eventually. 

  - How do you get used to suddenly becoming first in line to owning ... - she motioned around her. - All of this. 

  - I’m sure you can ask Sebastian for help. - his words made her stop on her tracks, a furrowed eyebrow at his statement before Daniel took a file from under his shirt. - I had my suspicions but after he was ready to sign off his place in the mob for you ... well, didn’t take long to puzzle it out. 

  - Did you tell anyone? - she grabbed the file away from him, not wanting anyone to hold it and mostly because she wished to destroy it or give it to Sebastian. 

  - I don’t think Gwen would be too interested in it considering she went on holiday with one of his bodyguards the moment she got told the wedding was off. Besides, if someone is to tell our father about it, it certainly won’t be me. 

  - I thought you hated Sebastian. I’m sure you called them standoffish and murderous. 

  - I still dislike him but ... you like him and considering you’re gonna be my boss someday, I don’t think I should really go against what you want. 

Y/N merely chuckled at him as both of them got into the car and, following a bit of banter discussing if it was the best idea to go visit Sebastian or not, started to drive up to the Upper East Side. Sebastian hadn’t been taken to the hospital despite most of Y/N’s complaining, whenever she did all Dan would say ‘we don’t want the police in our business’ so all she could think about was if he was alright and recovering just fine. It wasn’t like someone would harm her if she made a call, however Dan and the other associates were firm on keeping Y/N as isolated as possible for the very first weeks.

Maybe it had been for the best, she had spent the two weeks feeling sick or very tired and weirdly enough, only a few days ago had she been able to get up without feeling like a goblin. However, she sure hoped he was alright and as his apartment because visible, her heart soared. It wasn’t like Sebastian had tried to contact her either, maybe he didn’t want to see her. After all, she was the reason he had three bullet holes in his body. As Dan parked in front of the building, her heart beat faster.

    - I’ll wait for you here. - Dan took her off her mindset. - Be safe, okay? 

    - I will. - Y/N climbed off the car, scarily walking over to the door which was opened by the doorman with a smile on his face. She entered the very familiar lift, looking at the light buttons on the switch panel until the penthouse was reached. The doors opened horizontally and the once familiar house felt cold. Maybe it was because there just wasn’t so much staff running around. Actually, she could only spot a few bodyguards and overall staff before Amelia came strutting her way.

   - Miss Y/N, I was so worried. When you didn’t come back with Mr. Sebastian. Thank god you’re alright, you look so good. 

   - Yeah, they’ve been moving me around for a few weeks. Do you reckon I could see Sebastian?

   - He’s been in his room for a few weeks, doctor’s orders. I told him to go the hospital but the police rule. - she started to walk up the stairs with Y/N right behind her until she led her to Sebastian’s room. - You let me know if you need anything.

Y/N took a deep breathe, trying to shoo away all of the negative thoughts she had within her mind before pulling on the door handle, pushing the door open to see Sebastian laid down in bed surrounded by several papers, most likely contracts, with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. She leaned against the wood of the door lining, her eyes calmly set on his tense forehead as he went through each paper faster than a computer, writing what looked like unreadable calligraphy. He was the one to notice her first, taking his glasses off as a soft smile appeared on his face.

    - Didn’t think your father would let you near me any time soon. - he spoke out, voice slightly raspy as if he hadn’t caught a wink of sleep in the past weeks. Y/N merely rolled her eyes at his statement, walking up to his bed and taking a seat in a spot free of papers. - Are you alright?

    - I should be asking you that. - her hand creeped up to his, her fingers shyly touching his. - You should’ve gone to the hospital, Sebastian.

    - Just bullet wounds, angel, nothing new. 

    - I thought I lost you, Sebastian. You didn’t try to reach out to me for two weeks, I was worried. - she bite down onto her lip, afraid her emotions would get the best of her. Sebastian noticed this, pushing the contracts away from his lap before his hands wrapped around her waist, pushing her closer to him despite the lingering pain of the gun shot wounds still present but he didn’t care.

    - Angel, I thought you were gonna die and it was my fault. I promised nothing bad would happen to you and that ... that despicable rat had you chained to the ground .. the things he said he would do to you and if he had done it it would’ve been my fault.

   - Sebastian, it’s not your fault. - her hand raised to caress his jaw. - You couldn’t have done anything, whatever he wanted ... it goes way past me and you. 

   - I allowed him to be near you and I let you be alone at the hotel ... I should’ve just ran off with you, I should’ve just ... I should’ve just told you I loved you when I had the shot, we could’ve jus ...

   - It’s no good to live in the past, Seb. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re fine. Whatever happened, let’s just forget it. - she took the documents from her purse handing it to him. - I thought you should have those. I don’t think it would be very safe for those papers to be wandering around. I can’t believe you would give it all up for me.

   - I would do anything for you. - he leaned his head against her shoulder. - How is the baby? 

   - Baby’s fine, probably got tired of making me feel miserable all the time. - she made herself comfortable in his bed. - How do you feel about it? The baby, I mean.

   - I would’ve rather heard about it in a less stressing situation but I just can’t really believe it. Somewhere in my life I must’ve done something good, I must’ve done something good because I really don’t deserve you much less a family with you.

   - I don’t really think it’s about deserving, it’s just ... maybe fated considering I was supposed to marry you all along. 

   - That is a contract marriage I can’t really complain about.

   - From now on, let it just be the two of us. Nothing else, no more Gwen, no more lost parents, just ... an ordinary family. 

   - I’d like that.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee​ @nikkipea​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @madisonpillstrom​ @cevans98​ @thelostallycat​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @anxiousdreamersworld​ @captainchrisstan​ @lookiamtrying​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @stuffforreferences​ @thebadassbitchqueen​ @sebastianstansqueen​ @nsfwsebbie​ @strangerliaa​ @emzd34​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​ @dreams-in-blxck​ @krismeunicornbaobei​ @buckysteveloki-me​

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: When in Rome, wait wut?; The Reboot Nobody Fucking Asked For"

*after two incidences with his sons, Zeus has recruited Hades and Poseidon to investigate why the living hell was so distracting about Rome*

Zeus: *poorly disguised as a shepard* Well, it is a mighty fine city indeed. It's almost comparable to Athens. Don't you think so?

Poseidon: *also poorly disguised as the world's most muscular fisherman* It is dear brother! Why even our statues here are incredibly beautiful!

Hades: *who's cleverly disgusted as an old lady* hmf.

Poseidon: What's the matter Hades? Disgruntled that you don't have a shrine dedicated to you?

Hades: No quite frankly I actually don't care about shrines or temples in my honor. *Looks around and sees the same issues that the Bois saw* .....why do the mortals here call me Pluto?

Zeus and Poseidon: *both laugh at that*

Hades: Hahaha, laugh all you want.

Centurion: YOU TWO! How DARE you laugh at that poor, ugly old crone! You're under arrest for harassing the elderly!

Hades: *grins*

Zeus: *having absolutly none of this BS* .......

Poseidon: Ugh but sir we-

Centurion: *takes out cuffs and chains, FuCkInG puts them on Zeus and Poseidon* You're coming downtown! *Drags the both of them*

Zeus: *glares into space completely understanding why his sons tried to destroy Rome*

Poseidon: But sir! You can't just thrown people in jail for laughing!

Centurion: *in a completely casual tone* I deeply sorry sir but as of late there has been a zero tolerance policy throughout the city, orders say we MUST make an immediate arrest and put you through the identification process.

Hades: *still as an old crone clicks heels and walks away to sight see*

*later*

Mortus: *looming in the dark corner of the interrogation room, walks slowly to the table and slams his fist*.....where were you on the day of the Coliseum's destruction... And if you weren't there where were you on the day of its reopening?

An innocent bean farmer: *shaking in fear* ugh....in my field sir?

Mortus: *glares at the farmer*

A Centurion: *walks in the room* Sir! We have more prisoners! I think you maybe interested in these two.

Mortus: *slowly turns around* ......if this is another dead end.... you're joining the rest of the scum at the crucifixion field.

A Centurion: *gulps* ....y-yes sir.

Mortus: Bring them in...oh and release this one.

Bean Farmer: *just fucking bolts out of the room*

Mortus: .....

Centurion: *brings in Zeus, whom already looks a little claustrophobic in the already small room* There's a second one outside.

*outside*

Poseidon: *apparently has attracted the attention of many young beautiful women* Fear not Roman citizens! For I Po-*thinks of a name*...uhm...Paul.... understands your infatuation, but alas I am happily married, BUT let that not stop you from admiring my very being! *Tries to flex while handcuffed*

The small crowd of women: *swooned*

A Centurion: oh shut up.

*inside*

Mortus: *actually a little intimidated by Zeus and his stone cold resting death face*....Well now....you rather large for a shepard. Retired I suppose?

Zeus: ....no.

Mortus: Than what is your occupation?

Zeus: ......I do not think you have the jurisdiction to ask me.

Mortus: *getting angry* Where were you when the Coliseum was being destroyed!?

Zeus: .... Probably with your mother, who I would be certain would be very ashamed that her son has decided to harass the elderly.

Mortus: *steaming mad* YOU WILL ANSWER THE QUESTION!

Zeus: I want to speak with my lawyer.

Mortus: WHAT?!?

A Centurion: Um sir, we have a Mr-*looks at a crudly written card* Plutonium? He's a law maker and legally represents the detainee.

Mortus: *feeling a cold sweat as if the devil has entered the building, looks at Zeus*

Zeus: *smiling*

Mortus: ....bring him in.

Hades: *now looks more like a mortal version of himself but now carries a satchel* Good evening my name is Cryus Plutonium and I have heard my client and his brother have been unlawfully detained. *Places a scroll on the table* Sir if I may infer, I've been working several weeks in the law office and I have found no evidence of this new "Zero tolerance policy". So I do believe you have no legal right to detain and must release him-

Poseidon: *from outside* AND ME!

Hades: -and his brother.

Mortus: *stares in disbelief* ....what.

Hades: *slowly walks to Zeus and unbinds him*

Zeus: thank you.

Hades: Now. Let us l-*feels a sword near his next* ......

Mortus: *has just about snapped* .....I've been after you and your mutant kin for a whole year and three months.....you owe not just me....but you owe the empire....an explanation.

Hades: ............

Zeus: ...........*lifts a finger, shocks him and tases Mortus, knocking him cold* ................you know something.......I think I finally understand why the children hate this place.

Hades: *shakes his head, as the two leave they see poseidon just flexing for a small crowd while the Centurion who was gaurding him is tied to a support beam*

A Centurion: Please help me.

Zeus: *points and sarcastically smiles* No. *Walks to Poseidon and drags him* It's time to go.

Poseidon: Awww....but I was just getting the crowd warmed up!

Hades: Let's just say they'll be warmed up with a few weeks of heavy thunderstorms.

Poseidon: .....can there be earthqu-

Zeus: You may bury the lot.

Poseidon: *smiles* Huzzah!

Hades: Or....we can be a little less intrusive.

Zeus: Fine, I shall ask Odin if he wants to help.

Hades: Yes my thoughts exactly.

Zeus: *still angry until he sees Octavia and little Caius and suddenly feels a little odd*......Hades.

Hades: yes

Zeus: I understand you don't have children...but what are the chances that one of my sons may have left something behind.

Hades: *trying to understand what Zeus meant until he saw Caius* Hmm....oh come now you're not going to take the child away from. His mother....or..... fornicate with her.....are you?

Zeus: .....oh damn it all....we can't destroy this city........

Poseidon: *in a singsong tone* I can! *Suddenly a little rumble starts until Zeus bonks him on the head* ~°

Zeus: No....the city of Rome...if officially protected.

Hades: ........all this because there's a bastard grandson around here isn't it?

Zeus: Silence Hades. Look at him, not a care in the world. Enjoying his moments with his dear mother talking to Hera a-WHAT THE?!?!

Hades: Wait Hera is here??

Poseidon: *rubbing his head* Hey look! It's Amphitrite too!

Hera: *talking to Octavia* Oh yes, married life is great but have you ever considered divorce?

Octavia: Oh heavens no, even though my husband has been rather distent. I'm positive he isn't in an adulterous relationship. That's punishable but crucifixion here.

Amphitrite: Well yes darling, for the WOMEN, men here get away with it scot-free.

Octavia: Oh heavens no.

Caius: *squirming a little*

Octavia: aww what the matter deary.

Hera: *knotices that Caius has few enough features of Zeus to be related but not directly enough to be his son* Aw what an adorable little baby boy. Who's the father?

Octavia: oh I'm happily married to General Mortus Biccus.

Hera: hmm....

Zeus: Oh there you are my beautiful, wonderful and not here to make sure I'm cheating on her wife! *Grits teeth* what are you doing here?!

Hera: ....I was wondering the same thing. I'm here shopping for some exotic fruits.

Amphitrite: *shows her basket of bananas*

Zeus: Oh.

Poseidon: *enthralled by the bananas* ohhhh.....

Hades: Well....I guess we can all go home then.

Octavia: Oh my! This must be your husband. You must be very lucky to have married such a big strong man.

Hera: *unamused* I am so blessed.

Zeus: *puts his arm around her* not as blessed as I am to be married to her.

Octavia: aww.

Caius: *kinda happy sensing he's found grandma and grandpa* c:

Zeus: *now getting a closer look, the baby literally looks like a spitting image of Hermes* oh my.

Mortus: THERE YOU ARE! *huffing and puffing from running* You are all under arrest!

Octavia: Oh Mortus, don't be so rude to these fine people they have done nothing wrong.

Mortus: This man shot LIGHTNING out of his finger! And that one *points to Hades* is...well he's just scary and THAT one is just annoying! *points to Poseidon*

Poseidon and Amphitrite: *sharing a banana and suddenly stop* hmf?

Mortus: These men are connected to the destruction of the coliseum last year and the disappearance of Gaius!

Zeus: ....Oh! You mean my sons? Oh yes they're actually harmless. You see, they're traveling magicians and they perform fantastic illusions!

Mortus: NO! FUCK YPU OLD MAN! I know what the people saw! Clearly something is going on! ...my suspensions are...that you...and your cohorts.....are demons!

Octavia: Mortus!

Caius: :c

Zeus: ....oh that's rather rude.

Hera: Now hang on a minute. Let's prove our innocence.

Zeus: Hera what are you doing?

Hera: .....you know, the gods are technically innocent....and exempt from being accused of any crime.

Mortus: *tempted to mention Emperor Caligula and his recent campaign against Poseidon but decided not to*

Hera: ...so...if we were gods...we would be innocent.

Octavia: Hmm...she does have a point.

Mortus: What are you getting at?

Zeus: *deep sigh* Fine...I lied.....me...my lovely wife and my brothers....are all gods......I'm actually Zeus, she's Hera and so on and so forth. My sons are were Apollo, Hermes and Dionysus....you see....it's likely their fault for losing their tempers, I apologize for that too. And I apologize for shocking you but you did threaten to crucify me.

Mortus: ..........*starts laughing hysterically and has officially lost his mind*

Octavia: Oh dear. Let's go honey, I must apologize for my husband's behavior. He's been working day and night. Oh sweetheart let's go.

Caius: byebye c: *waves*

Mortus: *while laughing like a mad man* HAHAHAH wait! I HAVE to know this but IS Caius here yours?!? HAHAHAHA I mean, I don't have BALLS! HAHAHAHAHAHA *gets dragged back home*

Zeus: ......you didn't help with that last portion did you?

Hera: No. I figured a man who looked as pathetic and desperate like that probably was already at his wit's end.... Speaking of which is that child yours?

Zeus: hmm....

*back at Olypmus*

Zeus: *pulls the ears of Hermes and Dionysus*

Hera: *helping with the situation and pulls Apollo's and Ares's ear*

Zeus: You boys are forbidden from returning to Rome. And as for you Hermes....it's one thing frolicking with farm maidens with incompetent husbands....but a war general with no testicles?....shame on you.

Hermes: *knows what he's talking about*.....worth it. *Feeling his ear getting pulled* ow~°

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Enemies | [Darth Maul x Fem!Reader] | Part II

Notes: God, this took a while. I’m sorry xD Also, my subscription for grammarly ran out and now I’m probably making a lot more mistakes again, sorry about that but I’m broke right now, it’ll take a while until I can get it again xD Also,this part is mostly showing the Reader’s life after Maul’s supposed death.

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Angst, Depression, Slight OOC, Original Characters, Time Skips

Summary: Y/N mourns for something she can never have but Maul won’t let her.

Word Count: 6′672

Taglist: @princessayveke​ @pinkiemme​ @thats-not-very-roger-roger​

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part I

They held a funeral for the dead Jedi, and her Master asked her if she wanted to attend. 

Y/N declined with the reason that her injuries hurt too badly, although that was a white lie. 

She would probably break down if she was surrounded by grieving people, and with his permission, she left Naboo in a hurry and returned to the Jedi temple on Coruscant.

When her feet touched the surface of the planet she lived on for the last 16 years, she breathed in. It felt like a massive weight was crushing her lungs and was dragging her shoulders to the ground. 

She wanted to crumble right then and there, but her Master seemed to have announced her return to the High Council, and she was surprised to see Master Yoda standing at the transporter landing platform. 

They weren't even close to the Jedi temple, so why...? 

Y/N breathed out and straightened her back.

She respectfully cupped her hands and bowed before him, although there was a bad taste in her mouth that left her with a bitter feeling. 

The old Jedi, who had trained her from a young age, looked at her with worried eyes. He could feel that the force around her was unstable. Very strange for the usually composed padawan. 

It reminded him of Y/N's first few weeks in the temple. The same sadness and grief, if not a stronger one, weighted in her force presence, and it caused him to raise an eyebrow. 

He had already heard that the padawan had met her childhood friend on Naboo, the boy for whom she had cried in her sleep for months when she was younger. 

Suddenly they had met again, the Zabrak had turned to the Dark Side, and his destiny not only seemed to have shocked the young woman but his death deeply affected her too.

At first, he was doubtful when Master Ra'eli had told him that because the padawan he knew was collected and never let her emotions get to her head. She let it happen in her youth but not anymore. 

That's at least what he thought.  Now that he saw her empty eyes and the detached expression, he understood that he had been wrong. 

His tone was soft when he said: 

"About your mission, we should talk, Y/N."

The padawan squinted her eyes but she didn't voice any objections. She couldn't. Yoda was the grandmaster of the Jedi, after all. 

Although she would rather cut her own arm off instead of having to discuss the events on Naboo. But she knew she would eventually have to face the council.

"Yes, Master," was all she replied.

He hummed and let his eyes scrutinize her, before turning around and leading Y/N to a taxi which seemed to have waited for them.

When they reached the Jedi temple, the padawan quietly walked beside Master Yoda, and they climbed the stairs in silence. Same as it had been with the short trip in the taxi. 

The atmosphere was tense and almost unbearable for her. Every step she took seemed like one step closer to suffering, and her legs got heavier and heavier. 

Thankfully, the grandmaster wasn't in a hurry, and she could adjust her pace to his, take a breather, and mentally prepare for the Council meeting that would definitely follow. 

Her chest was tight from nervousness but also the bandage that stabilized her broken ribs. 

Her Master had advised her to get into a bacta tank when she had returned to the temple, and she had nodded, although not understanding why she would need to go to such measures. 

She didn't feel any prominent pain, she was fine. Everything was alright. 

When she reached the end of the stairs, she noticed that Master Yoda was missing from her side. The padawan turned, and her eyes searched for him. He was standing a few steps under hers and looked at her with a thoughtful expression. 

"Master?"

She shifted, hiding her faintly trembling hands in the long sleeves of her robes.

"Tired, you are, hmm? Discuss your mission tomorrow, we will. Go, heal, and rest."

Y/N watched him with a vague expression, but her eyes showed surprise. She lowered her head and bowed.

"Yes, thank you, Master."

The padawan turned and walked away, but Yoda had been able to see her quivering lips. The thoughtful expression disappeared, and his face turned grim. 

The council, I must inform. 

.

Y/N walked through the temple, but instead of taking the stairs to the Halls of Healing, she went straight to her quarter in the northern parts of the temple. 

She was sure that the first aid she had received on Naboo was enough for her. Her head had stopped hurting after a medical droid treated her wound and gave her some painkillers, and the pressure on her chest was weak. 

She would heal in time. After all, everyone did, right?

When she reached the dormitory, she walked past some rooms and suddenly froze when she saw a particular nameplate. 

All this time, he was practically my neighbor?

His blue eyes and auburn hair came to her mind, memories of two children playing hide and seek in the Jedi gardens and many sleepovers. Anguish spread in her chest, she gritted her teeth and walked past Kenobi's room. 

Five doors later, she finally reached her quarter, and she pushed her code into the panel to unlock it. 

When she was finally in her own four walls, she felt a big void in her chest, and her emotionless expression crumbled. She stood frozen in the middle of her room, her shaky breathing the only sound.

Y/N closed her eyes, and she tried to concentrate on taking deep breaths. She focused so hard on it that she didn't even realize how her fingernails dug into her palm and tore the skin.

Focus.

Focus.

Focus.

While she tried to get control over her emotions again, she tightened her grip on a grey broken object with sweaty hands. 

I’m fine. I’m fine, everything is alright.

Then, finally after a long time, her breath slowly calmed down, her fists unclenched, and the force stabilized around her.

When she opened her eyes again, Y/N's face was perfectly stoic, and her whole body was numb. The tight feeling in her chest was gone. Everything was gone. She was functional. 

There is no emotion, there is peace.

-

When the High Council called her the next day, Y/N had already acquainted herself with her body's numbness. 

And when the most respected Jedi of the temple asked her about the fight, they were surprised by the lack of emotions in her force presence and the neutral tone in her voice. 

When she talked about Maul, she used detached words, and instead of addressing him with his name from his childhood, she said The Sith Lord, The Dark Side User, or just simply The Man. 

The members of the council stared at her with curious eyes, only Master Yoda's expression was somewhat grave. 

Then Master Windu asked the most important question, and the other Jedi held their breath for Y/N's response. 

"Is it not true that he was your childhood friend?" 

The question was justified, and everyone in the room knew that. The padawan stiffened just a little, and Ki-Adi-Mundi and Shaak Ti slightly leaned forward in anticipation. 

She breathed in and straightened her back. Her expression was indifferent, but it looked oddly superficial.

"The person that killed Master Jinn was not my childhood friend, no. I believe that the Zabrak I once knew was already dead. The Sith had destroyed him." 

The grandmaster tilted his head, and his hand traced over his chin. 

"Us the truth, you must tell, padawan. Your feelings...?"

Y/N's eyes and force presence held no trace of a lie when she answered:

"I'm fine, Master."

And it was the truth.

It was the truth for the next days, the next weeks, and the next years. 

She was fine.

.

After her Master had returned, and she was allowed to recuperate for a month, the High Council decided to grant her and Kenobi the rank of a Jedi knight. 

The young man received his title because he killed a Sith lord and passed the Trial of The Flesh, while she... 

Y/N didn't even know what she achieved to obtain the title. 

She had acted like a fool as if she had forgotten all her training. She got injured, couldn't stop her former childhood friend from killing a Jedi, and was useless in general. 

But Yoda knighted her anyway. 

According to him, her Master said she was ready. But she wasn’t. She really wasn’t. 

But like so many times before, she remained silent about it and didn't object.

What use was it to protest? She just wanted to be left alone.

The new rank didn't fill her with pride. But neither did she feel shame. The numbness was the only thing in her heart. 

And if she had to take a hard guess, she would say that it was because of Maul. When Kenobi had slashed him in half, the Jedi killed part of her too. 

It tormented her in her sleep. Almost every night, she would wake up in cold sweat, hateful yellow eyes haunting her. 

Only then did she feel something again. But she definitely preferred the numbness over the fear and anxiety. 

It cost all her concentration to ignore all the pain she felt from Maul’s death. The grey object she took from Naboo became her companion, and in the darkest nights, she held it tightly in her sleep.

The Jedi knight ignored her nightmares, and she plunged into work, following her former Master's footsteps; she became a Jedi Sentinel, a Shadow like him. Partly because her Master had mostly taught her about a Sentinel's duties, but also because there was a flame in her heart. 

A flame that couldn't be quelled. She wanted to extinguish the hateful fire that burned in her chest and finally achieve peace but for that, she needed to obliterate everything that had something to do with the Sith and the Dark Side.

For Y/N, it was like a duty. Something she owed him.

Strangely, she believed that his soul would find peace in the force if she found the one who had done this to him, the one who had forced him to turn into that furious beast. 

She had already decided not to remember the Zabrak as he had appeared before her during their last meeting. 

In her heart there was only space for the shy boy with the biggest smile and the beautiful sun-like eyes from Dathomir. Not the angry, snarling Sith who held no mercy for any life form.

That’s at least what she told herself. But in her dreams was no happy little boy. Her illusions of a grown-up, laughing Maul had been destroyed. 

How could her subconscious still project that version of him she had imagined over the years? 

The man Y/N had dreamt about never existed in the first place. 

The Zabrak didn’t grow up to become the courageous and prideful warrior she had assumed he would. His presence hadn’t been relaxing. His eyes hadn't been filled with warmth.

The Maul in her dreams was cold. The touch of a single finger of his would cause a shiver to run down her spine, and when he choked her in anger, it felt as if her whole body was frozen. 

He would always strangle her. 

It was the same scenario over and over again. A replay of the fight. Only that she was alone. Her Master, Kenobi, Master Jinn, none of them were there. And she and Maul would fight.

And she would lose. Every god damn time. 

She couldn’t even remember how many times he had strangled her. Always with one hand. Always with an ugly grin on his face and hateful eyes. He would lean forward, his breath tickling her ear. 

His mouth would move. He would tell her something, but she could never understand. Could never hear what he said. Only a ringing sound filled her ears. 

Like the last time, they had held eye-contact. 

When he had died. 

And then he would clench his fist, and she would wake up with sweaty robes, a damp forehead, and a phantom pain in her throat.

People always said that Jedi Shadows controlled their emotions with an iron hand, but that wasn’t true. Y/N was sure that the Jedi Shadows, in fact, all Jedi, couldn't control their emotions at all. 

They just buried them under the hypocritical rules of the order and their Jedi duties. That’s what she did too. And from what she had seen, she wasn't the only one. 

She could name so many examples.

The Jedi knight ignored the desperation she felt when she couldn’t understand what the Zabrak tried to tell her in her nightmares. She ignored the instability in the force when she was alone, and she moved on. 

If she couldn't sleep, she meditated. If she couldn’t meditate, she sparred.

It was a test of the mental barriers she had set up. Dark thoughts lurked at the border of her peaceful meditations, and it took a lot of restraint to not let them in. 

But the wall of numbness protected her. She was happily bathing in the numbness of her body and mind. 

And Y/N was fine.

Fine enough to receive her first special mission from the Council of First Knowledge. It took a while though. 

Apparently, the High Council was worried about her mental health at first, but when they noticed that she seemed alright when she visited the library or went to meditate and train, they allowed the mission after two months. It was an easy task. 

Find a Holocron, retrieve, and destroy it.

"Don't forget this, Y/N."

Her former Master had said, one day before her mission. He gave her back her lightsaber. The one she had lost on Naboo. 

She took it silently, not able to look him in the eyes. The memories of him losing control of his emotions were still vivid before her eyes. 

She could feel his stare on her body and she knew, he wanted to talk about that day, but she couldn’t. There was nothing to talk about, at least in her opinion.

When she touched the cold metal of her lightsaber, it felt like a bolt went through her body, and she almost dropped it. 

This weapon held the darkest memories of her life. She would never use it again. Never. 

Things would well up when she touched the hilt. She couldn’t handle it.

So, she continued to use the blade she had borrowed from the temple guards.

After the mission, I should ask the High Council if I could pay a visit to Ilum. 

And so she left.

.

They sent her alone.

And when she came back, she had finished her task with outstanding results. 

It only took her two weeks. 

The councils were very pleased and praised her. 

Y/N smiled bitterly in secret, remembering all the lives she had taken, for the sake of one stupid Holocron about an already destroyed Sith temple. 

And the truth slowly revealed itself, if she wanted to or not. But she ignored it. 

Like so many other things and signs.

She held onto the rules of her Jedi life, as if they were a lifeline. The code was the only thing that kept her from crumbling.

The woman’s reputation was soon overshadowed by a rumor of a padawan. The boy Master Jinn had saved on Tatooine, the one he entrusted to Kenobi. 

Anakin Skywalker. The Chosen One. 

She had laughed when she first saw him train. 

This was the child everyone was talking about? The savior? The one who would keep the force in balance? 

Wishful thinking.

If the Jedi entrusted the destiny of the Republic to that mere boy, she couldn’t understand why the Sith went into hiding. The Jedi were clearly vulnerable and the High Council members were old fools.

She swallowed her bitter laugh and blasphemous thoughts and went on with her days. 

She received the permission of the High Council to get a new kybercrystal on Ilum after she told them about her "accidental” loss of her lightsaber. 

She traveled with some padawans, and she knew that they watched her with eagle eyes. 

Her reputation may have been overshadowed by Skywalker's, but people still knew about The Prodigy. 

She ignored them with clenched fists. Her acquired inofficial title now seemed like a curse. 

Anyways, the trip was successful, and 4 months after her former best friend's death, she got a new lightsaber.

Y/N also chose to become a Jedi Sentinel because they rarely stayed at the temple on Coruscant. When she was a padawan, she had a lot of duties in the Archives, but now that she was a Knight…

She could finally leave and get stationed somewhere far away. Far away from her former Master. Far away from the man who killed Maul. Far away from the watchful eyes of the High Council. Far away from all the hypocrisy. 

And when she arrived on Dantooine, it felt like she could finally leave the turmoil, that waged in her heart, behind.

Dantooine was far from the Core Worlds, and although its Jedi temple was abandoned, the Council of First Knowledge sent her anyway, because there were rumors that a local gang was going to trade some Sith artifacts. She was supposed to infiltrate the group and find out more.

It was a welcome change. 

Y/N could take off the Jedi robes for a short moment, and when she changed into civilian clothes, there was a weight taken from her shoulders. It wasn’t that she disliked being a Jedi, it was more the things that came with being one that burdened her.

Aside from the obvious restriction of letting your emotions run free and the fact that she always needed to restrain herself, there was also something else that had caused a bitter taste in her mouth.

The prohibition of marriage and love had shocked her when she had joined the order. 

As a child who was super excited about marrying Maul... It felt like the world came crashing down. 

It had stacked on the fact that she would never meet her best friend again. However, that shock slowly faded with the progress of training and the increase of her knowledge of the Jedi philosophy. 

And so she thought she was alright.

But now that she had been reminded of the feelings she had held for Maul... It felt like a great loss. 

She would never bear children. Her bloodline wouldn’t continue with her. There would never be a legacy. 

Y/N L/N would never teach her own blood anything.

Of course, if she wanted to teach someone, she could take a padawan, but that also wasn’t in her hands. 

The council would decide if she was ready for one, though she highly doubted they would ever say she was. But that wasn’t the problem. 

Even if she had a padawan. She could never love them. She wasn’t allowed to. Like she wasn’t allowed to love Maul.

Attachments are forbidden.

Forget him.

The words of renowned Jedi echoed in her head, and it felt like she got strangled.

There was a tiny, bitter voice in her heart that whispered that there was always another possibility, another choice, free of any Jedi rules.

But these feelings and imaginations were not appropriate for a Jedi.

So she closed off all the forbidden thoughts and concentrated on her mission. It would take a while to establish a trusting relationship between the locals, but she welcomed this period with open arms.

And so time passed.

-

The mission on Dantooine had unexpectedly turned into a giant conspiracy. 

It involved not only the planet in the Raioballo sector but also planets from across the galaxy. The thread puller: The Hutt clan. The Sith artifacts were used by a corrupted Hutt who was drunk on the powers of the Dark Side. Y/N's planned 8 months operation turned into 10 years undercover. 

And in all this time, not once did she let herself break down and grief. 

Not for Maul, not for the friends she had made on Dantooine and who then died in a battle. 

Her walls around these emotions were invincible. They always emerged victoriously. That's at least what she believed. 

Still, Y/N had changed. The years far away from Coruscant had influenced her far more than they should have. 

She lost the humble attitude, wore jewelry, used her charm as a woman to get information, drank alcohol outside from investigations, enjoyed bare hand brawls, talked in a crude manner, laughed about the Republic and the Jedi, and found pleasure in visiting loud cantinas with drugs and dancers. 

She let go of the restrictions the Jedi order had set on herself and she changed. 

The smooth edges of her character hardened. Mercy wasn't her first choice anymore. 

She told herself that this was only part of her cover, but she had slowly stepped off the supposedly rightful path, which was dangerous for a Jedi. But she hadn't felt like one in a long time anyway. 

Although she was undercover, Y/N regularly meditated. In the deepest hours of the night, she trained her forms. She didn't allow her body to get rusty. It was her weapon after all. But the philosophies of the Jedi were far away in the Outer Rims… 

At some point, years into her mission, the code didn’t help her to meditate anymore. 

And one day, she found herself in a dangerous situation, and the first thing that came to her mind wasn't a Jedi technique. 

Magick.

It was only a small trick she had been taught on Dathomir, but it was a dip into the Dark Side. 

Only a toe, just for a second, but it changed Y/N's views fundamentally. 

The feeling was familiar, it trickled through her body like warm summer rain, and the supposed hate, fear, and violence that the Jedi associated with the Dark Side was nowhere to be found. There was only her own sadness and pain.

And the questions she had long buried rose again.

What if all Dark Side users were like Maul? Corrupted? What if one uses the Dark Side to do good? What if there is more than just black and white? 

She had met ambiguous people in her time on Dantooine and later in the Hutt space, and although they had done bad things, they were not evil people. 

Some were forced to do bad things by others, some had never done something else in their life since the had been a child, and others were just hurting too much to understand what they had done. 

But in all of them could Y/N feel and see good.

Was it only their protectiveness over their comrades, or the way they treated their ships with fondness, they were living, which meant they made mistakes. Everyone did. 

Had the Jedi realized that? 

Although her walls around her emotions crumbled and she slowly began to see through the veil of her years in the Jedi order, she stopped herself from probing further into unknown territory. 

After all, she still felt obligated to the Jedi and found momentary peace in their principles.

They had raised her, fed her for years, they gave her a place to sleep, they taught her morals and showed her a path to her true heart, to the force. 

After such a long time on Dantooine where she saw the slums and the circumstances, some people had to live in… She had lived like a queen in the Jedi temple compared to them.

Y/N acted as if there were two people inside of her. Her cover as the smuggler and the Jedi. And she treated them differently. 

Y/N L/N was banned to the shadows of the night and only moonlight. While Dove reigned over the days and bathed in the sun.

She had been taught that a Jedi Shadow always needed a perfect cover, it was supposed to be natural. And Y/N was good at playing a determined, slightly crude smuggler with big ambitions who disliked the Republic.

Another padawan had told her once that undercover missions brought out the secret character traits of a person but she hadn’t believed him. She didn't realize that he was right. 

Both Y/N and Dove were one. Both were a part of her. And their attitudes and beliefs slowly mixed. 

Y/N L/N’s true colors slowly manifested on the canvas.

What once was covered up, bled through. 

However, she desperately tried to hide it once again. Or else she believed she would lose her footing in the Jedi order.

Aside from her slightly worrying character changes, her mission was doing great.

She had finally met the man behind the whole conspiracy, and soon he would be arrested. In the worst case, she would have to kill him, but she wanted to avoid that. Her small encounter with the Dark Side had made her hesitate.

But then it happened.

She received a holo transmission from the Council of First Knowledge. Something that had only occurred twice in the ten years she had been undercover. Her contact person was usually someone outside of the order. But this time it was all the high tiers.

Y/N had a bad premonition, and it was linked to a nightmare she had a few days ago, where the force had cried out to her in unexplainable pain. 

The fact that she had dreamt about something else than her friends’ deaths, was already a shock for her.

"Y/N L/N, it's good to know you're still alive." 

The woman frowned a little. Did they believe she had died? She had contacted one of her informants of the Order just three weeks ago.

"Masters", was all she responded, and she nodded at the council members instead of bowing, too used to this greeting after all these years undercover. 

She recognized only one of them, the Caretaker of First Knowledge, the others seemed to be new members.

Which was understandable, ten years had passed and the four members rotated every five years. She had seen two generations of masters during her mission.

All of them seemed to be relieved in a way, she could feel it through the force. 

She raised an eyebrow.

What is happening?

Y/N understood that her mission was a rare case. 

Usually, undercover missions wouldn’t go on for that long, mainly because the order wouldn’t let a Jedi be this deeply involved with the galaxy’s underworld but the council had worried that the Hutt, who had stepped into the world of the Dark Side, would cause havoc for the Republic, and they obviously wanted to avoid that.

So, she understood their concern but their relief seemed slightly too big for only that reason, after all, they didn’t really know her.

After thinking about it for a second, she hesitantly asked: 

“You seem concerned. Did something happen?”

The older members shared a look and then the caretaker said with a grave and urgent undertone: 

"You must have heard it. The Galactic Republic is at war with The Confederacy of Independent Systems. We would like you to-"

"WHAT?", she interrupted with a loud voice. 

A war had started? How?! When?

She was currently staying on Nal Hutta, but she was sure that news about a war would have been told to her. After all, Dove held a high position in the Mantis gang right now.

The Jedi Master on the hologram looked at her with worried expressions. 

"We can't talk for long, this channel will be closed soon. L/N, we will delete all Jedi Shadow names in the Archives. It's a security measure. But we would like you to finish your mission and then go to the coordinates we'll send you. You’ll meet with other Shadows and receive further instructions." 

She just blinked. 

What was happening? They were wiping out the records? Why? How where the Jedi involved with the war? 

A sinking feeling appeared in her gut, and she realized that the voices she had heard in her dreams must have been dying force users, Jedi. 

So many lives... 

This can’t be true!

Her hands clenched, and she hid them behind her back. Soon she could probably do that in her black robes again. Maybe even on a battlefield... The thought made her gulp.

"Masters, will there be another way to contact you?"

They shook their heads.

"It's not safe anymore, child", said a female member of the council. She smiled sadly at Y/N.

"The Dark Side of the force revealed itself again. You must stay safe. May the force be with you."

Before she could even ask what that first sentence was supposed to mean, the transmission ended. Only the blinking of her comlink announced that she had received the coordinates of the council and that the conversation really had happened.

Y/N breathed in slowly. Her hands slightly shook, but she clenched them into fists and closed her eyes. 

The darkness in the force showed itself again. 

The icy feeling in her chest was slowly burned away. A determined fire began to stir in her heart.

Whatever this meant, she would find out. For him.

-

"S9, how far away are we?" 

After the holo transmission, Y/N had continued her task. Although it ended abruptly and not how she had planned. 

How could she know that the big boss would commit suicide? 

That wasn't a move somebody had pulled on her before. Even in all those 10 years, no one had rather killed themselves than surrender to her. 

But it had happened, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

It was a bad outcome for her mission because there were definitely some secrets left that should be revealed and the corrupted Hutt had been able to use the force in incredible ways, but Y/N didn't care anymore. 

He was dead and there were more urgent things she had to take care of.

The news she now received every day of the war between the Republic and the Separatists worried her. 

The Republic had somehow gotten ahold of a giant army of white armored men. They were clones. 

She couldn’t find out how that happened, or where they came from. But she had heard that Jedi knights, especially Jedi Guardians, had been appointed as generals for the clones.

The Peacekeepers of the Galaxy had turned into soldiers. 

Y/N didn’t know if that was a choice the High council had made or if the Senate wanted them to do it but either way, the thought made her intestines churn. This spoke against the beliefs of the Jedi. She couldn’t find a reason to why the councils would have allowed that.

After she had left her cover in the dark of the night, she had only limited resources for information gathering. 

The reason; the gang she had stayed with for 8 years had put a bounty on her head. And because she was partly the reason for their success and wealth, but also the death of their boss, it was a big one.

But she thankfully had no problems to leave Nal Hutta apart from a run-in with a clumsy bounty hunter, and she reached the coordinates which the council had sent her without any delays. 

The droid that had accompanied her for the last decade whistled, and she sighed. 

They had arrived on Corellia. 

The planet in the Core Worlds was inhabited and it could be seen from space. Why the council chose this planet... Y/N didn't know. She never set a foot on it. 

But now when she did she immediately felt a shift in the force. 

This...! 

The familiar calmness of her former Master's presence in the force seemed to wrap itself around her and although it had soothed her in the past, it now felt like an intrusion of her space. 

She automatically hid her force presence and strengthened her mental walls. She could still feel him in the force and he could feel her but it seemed like he could no longer locate her as easily. 

This pleased her and she slowly made her way to his location. 

To tell the truth, Y/N wasn't ready to meet her former Master again. After she had left Coruscant and the order for her undercover mission, she had a lot of time to think about the events that had occurred on Naboo. 

Her Master's heartbroken face from that time had haunted her for many years. 

It was because she couldn't find any reason why he looked at her with such an expression. No, that wasn't true. 

There was a reason she could imagine, but it didn't make any sense, so she never acknowledged it. Because it spoke against the Jedi code. And her Master wasn't a person who would break it. 

But now that she thought about it... Maybe she didn't know enough about him to actually be able to say that. 

She had also believed that she knew Kenobi well, they had been friends for years after all, but in the end... 

And from all the things she had observed in her 16 years of living with the Jedi order, she knew that almost no one had a completely white vest when it came to the code. 

So maybe it could be that her Master had felt more than just basic companionship for the Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn. 

But she didn't want to think about it. Her beliefs were already shaken, there was no need to shake them further. 

The meeting point seemed to be at a backstreet right behind the daily market. Y/N assumed that they would take the actual discussions to a secondary location. 

The Council of First Knowledge had always been careful in regards to information distribution, that's why she didn't question her lack of knowledge about the upcoming meeting. 

Before she turned into the alley, she told her astromech droid to stay put and keep an eye out, then she walked into the shades of the houses and joined the other eight shadows who were already present. 

"Identify yourself", demanded one of them, a man with a big build and a deep voice. 

She recognized him as one of the former council members, Anatosh, or something like that. 

"Y/N L/N", she stated and she turned her head to one of the other hooded people.

Her eyes found the ones of her former Master. 

The brown color was still the same but Leon Ra'eli had developed deep circles under his eyes and she could see that he had gained more wrinkles in his face. He had aged and his former rather handsome attributes had dulled. Maybe from the war but probably mostly from aging. 

"Y/N, it's good to see you alive and well." 

His voice was also familiar, however, the soft undertone was missing and his exhaustion shined through. 

Oh, Master... What have you become...?

"Master", she replied and greeted him with a bow. 

A whisper from the other present members of the Jedi order took her attention away from her former Master, and she gladly stopped facing him. 

"Is she the one who people called The Prodigy? I thought she had died?" 

Y/N frowned but before she could say anything, the former council member, raised his voice: "Now that we're all here, we should find a better place to talk." 

She turned her head a little and noticed that six more people had joined them, there were now 15 Jedi Shadows attending this mysterious meeting. 

The 34-years old Jedi bit her lip, she hadn't been able to feel the other six approaching, they were like ghosts. 

Y/N knew immediately that they were masters of the force concealment that she had practiced for such a long time. She expected herself to be a skilled user but the newcomers were way out of her league. 

"It's good to see you again, Anatol", said one of them, and the voice seemed familiar for her. 

The former Council member just nodded at the other and then ordered:

"I sent all of you our secondary location, we meet there at 1600. You have 15 minutes, now disperse!" 

The military tone slightly put Y/N off but she ignored it for the time being. She turned her back on the group and walked out of the alley, back to R7-S9's location. 

"We're going", was all she said to him and he followed her obediently with a whistle. 

Under her long sleeves, she checked her comlink for the coordinates. 

It wasn't far away, she would only have to cross the market, and then she would arrive at the steps of the bar where they would meet again. 

"It's probably going to be a room in the back", she muttered to herself and the droid agreed. 

This method reminded her of the countless rendezvous she had held when she was part of the Mantis gang. Only that she wasn't the one leading the meetings now. 

While she traversed the market, she inspected the food at some stalls, bought a couple of old holo-music-tapes, and acted like a tourist, just to make sure. Anatol didn't give them 15 minutes for nothing. If they had traveled together as a group full of cloaked figures it would cause a lot of attention. 

But while she acted like a relaxed market visitor, her mind was elsewhere. 

She hadn't been sure if this meeting would be held with all Jedi Shadows present, still wasn't sure, but if it was... 

Where was the rest of them? 

Although she had never met all the Jedi Shadows scattered in the galaxy, she had seen more than just 15. She had met at least 40 members of the special group of the order, so what if...  

She couldn't finish the thought, it was too worrying. 

Although she had distanced herself from other Jedi, mainly involuntary through her mission, but also because of the events she had been through, she still held the feeling of companionship for her fellow Jedi. 

Especially Jedi shadows. It had weakened, yes, but after everything, she was still a part of them and the knowledge that they also wanted to get rid of the darkness in the galaxy strengthened the feeling of the connection.

So she worried. That they were the only ones left. That they had been killed, destroyed by the newly revealed darkness in the galaxy. She remembered the stories of the war, the rumors about the Separatist's generals, how cruel they were. 

And her resolve only strengthened, she would cleanse the galaxy of the darkness. No Sith would ever be able to prosper again. She swore on the death of her best friend, all evil shall be annihilated.

And if she had to follow the Jedi rules for this, she would.

If she had to work together with her estranged Master, she would.

If she had to join a war for this, she would.

-

[Somewhere on Lotho Minor, 20 BBY, 2 years later]

"This is where you live? How long have you been here?"

"Years and years and years."

He inhaled sharply.

"Through victory, my chains are broken. The chains - The chains are the easy part", his voice turned soft, vulnerable and he mewled: "It's what goes in here that's hard." 

Savage frowned at the creature that was supposed to be connected with him through blood, he could say creature because the being before him was more like a beast than a man. 

The sobbing and clanking and screeching irritated him and he replied:

"You have been lost, my brother. Do you remember who you are, where you came from?"

The spider legs began to rattle as if they shook from fright and their owner growled: "Always remember I am fear. Always remember I am hunter..." 

The yellow-skinned Zabrak raised a brow when he felt the shift in the force, the fury and hate now so prominent like a signal flare. 

Oh, this creature was definitely his brother, the strength was undeniable, although he questioned the sanity of him. But if his brother had stayed here on this doomed garbage planet with this body for years... 

It was understandable.

His brother continued, but his tone had changed, once again it was spiked with pathetic desperation but an angry and seething undertone had joined.

"Always remember I am filth. Always remember I am nothing." 

Like an animal, he snarled and his body twisted. Savage watched the poorly constructed legs with questioning eyes. 

"Your legs...", he began but his brother interrupted him hotly.

"That scum! He took them from me! He took them!", he screamed in wrath and clenched his hands into fists so tightly, that the rough and coursed skin of his palm tore. 

"Who? Who took them?", Savage urged and his brother answered.

"Jedi." 

He repeated it and then slumped over the fire, his voice turning to a soft murmur. Savage took a step forward and knelt on one knee. 

"You remember?", he asked but the other didn't reply to his question. Instead, he whimpered something, and the Zabrak leaned even more forward over the fire to hear what his brother said.

"They took her... They took her... They took her... I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you too." 

Suddenly he grabbed his brother's arms, and Savage almost plunged into the fire, had the red-skinned Zabrak not held onto him with his strong grip. 

"They took her!!!"

Savage had no idea what his brother was talking about.

"Who? The Jedi took who?"

His brother's voice had an emotional undertone that Savage couldn't quite place.

"Y/N, Y/N", he only muttered over and over again. 

[awedbynature]

A Christmas Debt

Characters: Loki x Reader

Category: Chaptered Story

Genre: Romance/ Friendship/ Love

Synopsis: The reader renders a great service to Loki unknowingly. Not used to being in anyone's debt, our favourite God of Mischief offers a strange favour in return. Will the reader trust him enough to take up the offer?

Previous Chapters: Chapter One

P. C. Pinterest

A/N: Thor's story, as recounted by Loki in this chapter, is an actual tale recorded in the Norse Mythology.

Also,

There's kind of a gift hidden within the chapter. Click the coloured text below to find out!

______________________Loki_____________________

Chapter Two

'He did what?’

You try to shush Natasha the best you can. She is incredulous at the news. ‘Y/N, this is Loki. He has a million wiles. I don’t want you falling victim to any one of them.’

‘I know,' you sigh. ‘But it is such a tempting offer.’

Nat rolls her eyes. She has never fully trusted Loki, not even after all the missions they have served together. Loki had been vital to some of the crucial operations the Avengers have been to, and most of them have given him their grudging trust. Not her. But that’s how she is.

You take another sip of coffee. It’s almost midnight and most of the others are lounging around, stuffed with cookies and fudges and in most cases some amount of Tony's prized liquor collection. Loki is not there. Probably in his room.

Just as you're taking another sip, savouring the aroma of the richly baked beans, Wanda saunters up to the counter. She is new to all this but looks like she’s enjoying every bit of it. Wanda is closer to you in age than Pepper and Natasha. She is more like a best friend to you than a sister, unlike Nat and Pepper.

She pours herself a cup of coffee and casually throws a hand around your waist, leaning against the counter and taking in the scene before her.

‘I saw Loki go after you,' she frowns. ‘What was that about?’

At your nod, Nat tells her everything.

Her eyes widen at the mention of the offer. ‘Did he really say that?!’

You nod wearily.

Wanda puts down her cup with a decisive thump and turns to you. ‘Well, I, for one, am totally in for it!’

'Really?!’ you can see Nat rolling her eyes again.

‘Of course,' continues Wanda. ‘What’s the harm? You don’t have to worry about your siblings ribbing you at dinner anymore! Isn’t that a huge plus?’

'B-but what if they ask for details? How we met and all?’

‘Then you make up some shit. Tell them you two met on a mission, or something. It’s not like you’ve to lie to them forever. It’s just one day!’

You heave a sigh, torn between taking up and declining the offer. But the prospect of being made the butt of jokes at the dinner table holds less appeal than blatant lying on your part. In the end, Wanda wins. You give a tiny nod of acquiescence.

‘I don’t like the idea,' Nat grumbles.

Wanda huffs, rolling her eyes. ‘She’s going to be fine. Now c’mon and show me what you’re going to wear tomorrow. We need to work on that first.’

You let her drag you off to your room, all the while thinking how best to approach Loki without appearing pathetic and pitiable. It’s just for one evening, you convince yourself. After all what do you have to lose?

***

You should not have listened to Wanda. You should not have let your depressed, lonely heart dictate your decisions. With so many things happening last night, you have hardly had a moment to think if you’d be alright with this entire charade. But now, cooped up in the cab and speeding towards a possible disaster, you feel a familiar dread creeping up your limbs and settling in your stomach. All of a sudden, being the object of pity and mild ridicule seems much more bearable. You give an involuntary shiver.

‘Are you alright?’ Loki casts a concerned glance your way.

'Mmhmmm,' you choke out, hugging your arms and giving them a rub.

Loki arches an eyebrow. ‘Pardon me, Ms Y/SN, but you most definitely do not sound alright.’’

'I'm fine.’

You relapse into silence. The cab has left the city and is speeding down a suburban road now.

Your morose thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a chuckle. You turn to find Loki laughing quietly to himself. Somehow the sight of him being so relaxed and graceful irritates you.

‘Do you find this funny?’

‘No. You just suddenly reminded me of my brother,' he says, passing a hand over his face to wipe away the remnants of his grin. ‘I had that feeling of—what do you Midgardians call it—something that seems to have happened before?’

‘Deja vu?’’

'Yes. It was the only time I had seen him nervous. More nervous than a bride on her wedding day. How fitting since he was actually in a wedding dress.’

What!

He chuckles some more, as an image of his hulking brother in a short wedding dress flashes across your eyes. Despite yourself, you snort, feeling the prick of curiosity.

'Why was he dressed as a—’

‘As a bride?’ He finishes for you. ‘It’s a hilarious story.'

‘It begins with my oaf of a brother having his precious Mjollnir stolen from him. Under mysterious circumstances.’ He winks and folds his hands behind his head.

'This happened when we were barely adults but considered ourselves grown up enough to venture out in search of adventures. One day, Thor woke up and found his hammer gone. Thor being Thor, immediately suspected me. Not that I’m saying I stole it. There was not enough evidence and so he discarded the idea eventually. But his hammer was truly gone and he was feeling helpless without it. Fearing the Allfather's wrath, he came to me for a hasty and discreet solution. I used all in my power to locate the hammer. At last we received news that the king of the ogres had stolen it and was demanding Freyja's hand in marriage as ransom.’’

'Who's Freyja?’

‘She is one like us. A goddess. She was considered the most beautiful among the Aesir for her golden hair and her deportment.’ His eyes take a faraway look, perhaps remembering his childhood friend.

'Anyway. So the ogre king was demanding something absolutely impossible for us to grant, yet the stakes were too high. What do we do? We decided to take the advice of the Gatekeeper of the Realm, wise Heimdall. He thought long and hard and decided that someone should dress up as the bride and go and retrieve the hammer. But none were brave enough to volunteer. So it finally fell on Thor to be the bride. ‘But my beard, and my figure!’ he exclaimed incredulously. Nobody heard him, poor thing. They decked him up in the finest bridal clothes and jewellery and wove flowers into his hair and put a veil over his disgruntled face—beard and all. You would not have found a more reluctant bride in the nine realms, nor a more muscular one. I was to dress as his handmaid, but that was not difficult. I could easily shapeshift into a young maid.’

By now, you are wheezing, clutching at the driver’s seat to keep yourself from toppling over. Loki cocks his head, observing you with eyes dancing with mirth, a smirk playing on his lips. He is definitely enjoying telling the story as much as you are enjoying listening to it.

'What happened next?’

'The ogres were foolish enough to believe us. They led us to the wedding banquet where Thor polished off most of the food without any help. His exuberant eating did raise suspicion and quite a few eyebrows but I managed to quell them before it got out of hand.’

'When their king announced that it was time for the wedding, they brought in Mjollnir and placed it in Thor’s lap. And the rest is history. I can assure you, none of the ogres lived long enough to tell the tale.’

Both of you dissolve into hearty chuckles. Loki heaves a sigh and instantly turns serious, ‘Please don’t tell Thor I told you this story. He’ll have my head in a platter if he finds out.’ There is a twinkle in his eyes but his face has gone back to that expressionless mask that all are used to seeing.

'You have my word,’ you reply, suddenly remembering with whom you’ve been acting chummy.

The scene outside is rapidly changing. Clusters of suburban houses and complexes have given way to long stretches of greenery. Which means you’ll be arriving any moment.

With a jolt, you realise that you had completely forgotten about your anxiety and apprehension. You feel more relaxed now, more yourself. Because of Loki. He was looking out for you. He knew you were nervous and wanted to put you at ease.

For the first time, you look at Loki in a different light. He is very much the roguish, evil, beguiling demigod that once almost destroyed an entire city, but somewhere underneath all the barbs and untruths lies a heart that still cares.

'I'm not sure this is a good idea,' you finally voice your anxiety. ‘What if they find out that this is all a lie, a pretence?’

Loki lazily crosses his legs and regards you with a piercing gaze. ‘Ms Y/Sn, perhaps you’re forgetting whom you are with. I have lied our way out of far more life-threatening situations numerous times. Thor lives because of my lies. This is nothing.’

‘What if they ask how we met and our answers do not match! I’ve watched too any sitcoms to know where that’ll lead.’

‘Then tell them the truth.’

‘Of course not! How am I supposed to tell my family that I met my apparent boyfriend after he was captured and imprisoned for masterminding the destruction of a whole city! They would rather watch me die single.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. ‘Tell them we met during an operation.’

You fiddle with the hem of your dress, not fully convinced. Wanda had insisted on your dressing elegantly, and you had ended up borrowing one of Pepper’s gowns. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You feel like you’re dressed in borrowed feathers.

‘Don’t fret, alskling,’ he says after some time. ‘The main trick of telling a lie is confidence. People are more likely to believe a bald-faced lie over a stammering truth.’

The cab finally rolls to a stop. Heart in your throat, you look at the familiar house, the neat lawn in front now decked with Christmas decorations, the old whitewashed fence and the ancient sycamore with the tire swing still hanging. Nothing much has changed around here.

‘Allow me,' the soft, crisp words bring you back to the present. You turn to find Loki coming round to your side to hold the door open. His face has taken a softer expression, the perfect look of a man in love and happily so. Slipping in and out of façades comes to him as easily as breathing. No wonder they call him the God of Lies.

He holds out his hand, his lips drawn into a smile. ‘Come, Ms Y/Sn. Let us show them.’

Well, here goes nothing, you take a deep breath, and step out of the cab.

To be continued...

Chapter Three available now

Tags: @lucywrites02 @lilyofthesword @country-cowgirl-101 @benji-booxx @loki-hiddlestoner3024 @outlawangel2020 @thefallenbibliophilequote @idontknowstudios @just-the-hiddles @myraiswack @noturningbacknow @natandersonnla @twhiddlestonsstuff

[sinner-as-saint]

Questions

Run-through: While on a mission, you’re stuck in an area of a building with your fellow Avenger, Bucky Barnes with whom you may or may not have a love/hate relationship. And while waiting for someone to come rescue you, you both find quite an interesting way to keep yourselves occupied.

Themes: language, dirty talk, smut

   “Ah, fuck this shit!” you exclaimed, kicking the old, rusty metal door one last time before sitting down on the dusty ground, panting and leaning your back against the same door the was shut. You had been trying to get that door to open for the past 15 minutes, with no success. So you gave up, hoping that the team would be able to track you down and come and get you out of this stuffy room.

“You’re trying in vain, doll. Save your energy, trust me,” your mission partner said. And God knows how much you hated the sickly sweet tone he used on you.

“Funny you say that, Barnes. You’re not even trying to get us out of here,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your words as you leaned your head back, closing your eyes as you were exhausted.

 You and the team set out on a mission earlier. The plan was simple; get off the Jet, sneak into this hauntingly old, gigantic abandoned building, take down whoever was in there, search the place for anyone held captive, destroy the remains of whatever barbaric transactions were taking place there and leave. But when you all decided to split just so you could search the place better and faster because the place was huge. HUGE. And, that’s when everything went to shit.

Steve, Nat and Clint were searching the east wing while you and Bucky were assigned to search the west wing, and the others explored the massive dungeons.

You and Bucky, despite sometimes being each other’s nightmare, were a very high-powered duo. Nothing could go wrong when you both worked together because your strength and skills complimented each other’s extremely well. But that was until the floor above you decided to collapse; trapping you in what seemed like an emergency panic room. Honestly, you only went in there because it seemed a little absurd when you thought about why someone would think of having a panic room in such a place.

So long story short, the floor above you collapsed for whatever reason and trapped you inside with Bucky and his annoying self. And you figured that the rest of the team were really far away because you could only hear static noises through the comms. You prayed to God that they found you as soon as possible.

“Guys? Anyone? Sam? Seriously, come and get me out of here. I don’t wanna die in this horrible place, with Bucky of all people. God, come on, where are the Avengers when you need them?” you tried reaching out to anyone who would hear but all you got was more static noises and you let out a long, dramatic sigh. Then you heard Bucky who let out a chuckle.

“You’re really dramatic you know that?” he asked, sitting down as well, his back against the wall facing you. The room was quite small so you were only approximately 10 feet away from each other.

“Is it dramatic to not wanna die in this awful place b-“you got cut off by a broken voice coming through the ear piece you had on.

“Hang on kid…heavy….we don’t-….coming…in...couple-…hours,” was all it said. And you soon realized that the voice was Tony’s.

“Tony? Tony can you hear me? Hello?” but you got no reply back. This time, even the static noise was gone.

Your face lit up when you heard that they were coming to get you, but did he just say a couple of hours? What the hell?

“At least now we know that they’re coming. Looks like all that whining finally paid off, huh, doll?” Bucky said, looking at you dead in the eyes.

“Yeah, what are we gonna do for another couple of more hours?” you sighed, leaning tour head back against the door, once again making a little thud sound.

He smirked.

“You know, I might have some things in mind,” he suggested, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he must have had that damned, cocky smile on his face.

You opened your eyes, grabbed your gun and aimed it at him.

“I will not sleep with you, ever. I wouldn’t fuck you even if you were the last man on Earth, Barnes,” you said, slowly lowering down you gun and placed it beside you again.

He laughed.

“I never said anything about sleeping with me. I was merely suggesting that, uh, game you and Nat were playing the other day. What is it, 50, 30 questions?” he asked and you shook your head weakly.

“We’re currently trapped in an old building, under a floor that just collapsed with our friends looking for us without any idea of where we could be because they can’t track us. And you wanna play 20 questions?” you couldn’t believe he just said that.

You knew he was quite a weird person but you never thought it’d come to this.

He shrugged. That damned, cocky smile still on his perfect face.

“I mean, we can’t just sit here and look at each other for hours. Might as well get to know each other better, and as Steve said, you and I need to work on our issues. So, 20 questions it is!” he sat up straight, still facing you.

He did have a point though.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go first. Barnes, how do you manage to reach such a soaring level of stupidity?” you sassed and he bit his lip.

Damn… wait what?

“Skills, doll. I’m next, what’s the one thing you’ve always wanted in life?” he asked, looking at you attentively.

You thought over it for a moment.

“Control. My turn, would you like to go in the future or the past?” you were beginning to notice an odd light in his eyes and you didn’t know why.

“The future. My turn, did you sleep with Thor the night you were both drunk, flirting shamelessly during the New Year’s party?” he asked, and your jaw was about to hit the floor.

Damn it, you knew this asshole would ask some dumb shit like this to make you uncomfortable. Why did you even agree to play this game?

“I, I can’t answer that. That’s private,” you simply said and he moved closer to you, to a point where he sat directly in front of you. Your boots touched his and his eyes stared into yours, unmoving.

“I supposed you’re forgetting a dirty little rule you made, doll. An unanswered question equals discarding an article of clothing. Now, answer me, or take something off,” he spoke calmly as he reminded you of the stupid rule you made the last time you played with Nat. You mentally kicked yourself for making such an immature rule in the first place.

“You’re such a pig! Okay, fine.” You zipped down your jacket and took it off. Leaving you in your leather pants, a tight, white tank top, under which was your red, lacy bra – the outline of which was very visible.

And suddenly, your skin felt very hot as Bucky took in your appearance. You were still very clothed but something about the way he was looking at you made you feel, naked. Very naked.

You avoided eye contact as much as possible while asking him your question.

“Okay, who do you think about when you masturbate at night?” you asked, keeping a straight face as one of his eyebrow raised.

He tilted his head to the side slightly and smirked again.

“What makes you think I think about someone? What if I say I watch porn like any other guy?” he asked, smirking.

You laughed.

“Because, you are not like other guys. Bucky, you can barely use Google. Now just answer my question, or take something off,” and it was your turn to smirk.

He let out a frustrated breath and took of his jacket. Under which he wore nothing. So within seconds, Bucky sat facing you, shirtless. And for the first time, you weren’t complaining.

“Like what you see, doll?” he asked, again with that damned, cocky smile on.

“Screw you Barnes, it’s your turn,” you said, eyeing him shamelessly.

His skin was so smooth. He barely had any scars except for many healed cuts around the point where his shoulder met his metal arm. And you suddenly felt bad for all the horrible things he had to go through alone.

“Hello? Y/N?” he waved his other arm in front of your face, dragging you back you reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“I asked, were you scared of me the first time we met?” his words weren’t laced with sarcasm anymore, but they did have a hint of mischief coating them.

“Absolutely not. My turn, do you ever take our bickering at heart? I mean, have I ever hurt you by saying something really harsh?” you asked, surprising yourself because you didn’t know where this question came from.

Did you really care about what he thought?

He smiled.

“Nah. Cause I know deep down, you’re a good person with a good heart. And really nice boobs too,” he answered, and a very smug expression displayed all across his face while his eyes stared at your cleavage.

You threw your jacket at his face, making him laugh as you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but they’re there and you expect me not to look? Whatever, my turn, have you hooked up with Thor before?” he asked again, smirking.

He inched closer to you, placing his leg in between your ankles. And his eyes never left yours.

“I said I can’t answer that! Plus, you can’t repeat a question,” you argued but he wouldn’t listen.

“Rules are rules, sugar. Take it off,” he said, and tugged at your tank top.

Something took over you and without thinking, you got rid of the tank top. So you sat there, in front of him, only in a lacy, red bra and leather pants. Your hair did cover parts of your chest but it didn’t help the growing hard on in Bucky’s pants.

He didn’t think you did, but you noticed. And a devious, really, really unholy thought went through your head.

You folded your legs under your thighs and sat down on them again. This caused him to have to look up to you slightly.

“My turn, are you hard right now?” you asked, nonchalantly and you saw how his jaw almost dropped.

“I, uh, what?” he asked, as if unable to believe what he just heard.

“Oh you heard me, do you have a hard on right now, soldier?” you asked again, inching closer and closer to his lap until you straddled him.

His eyes rolled back when you moved your core against his hard length slightly. When he opened them again, you were smiling down at him.

“Yeah, yes I do,” he answered, smirking again. Why was he being so smug? You thought you had the upper hand in this situation.

“My turn, have you ever thought about me while using that little light pink vibrator on yourself, doll? And don’t lie, I heard you once or twice,” he cooed, kissing the side of your neck with certainty as he knew you could never answer that.

Your eyes widened in shock as you let out a little moan while Bucky left a trail of love bites along your throat.

His hands grabbed your ass and he pushed you into him slightly. You whimpered at the friction.

“I’d rather not answer that,” you simply said, getting off his lap abruptly.

You stood in front of him and unbuckled your pants, slowly taking them off. You watched how his chest rose and fell quickly as you took your time in slipping out of your tight pants.

You were turning him on and you liked it.

Once you got out of your pants, you dropped them on the floor and that’s when Bucky stood up as well.

“Oh wait. Are we done playing?” you asked innocently, as if unaware that your matching set of deep red lacy underwear wasn’t driving him crazy with desire.

He nearly moaned just at the mere sight of you.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” he said sternly, slightly grabbing your jaw with his metal arm. You giggled, grabbing him by the back of his neck, pulling him down so your lips hovered over his ear.

“You wanna know a secret? I always, always think about your metal fingers every time I use my vibrator,” you whispered innocently, placing a little kiss on his jaw line. And he let out a growl.

“Fucking shit! Do you have any idea of what I wanna do to you right now, doll?” he sounded like he was clearly frustrated. And you liked that.

He pushed your body backwards until you were trapped between him and the wall. His hand was at your waist and one was around your neck, causing your head to slightly lean backwards. His cold fingers wrapped around your warm neck made a certain wetness pool in your underwear.

“No, actually, care to enlighten me Barnes?” your wrists wrapped around his arm, giving him the hint that you liked it there.

He leaned in, his lips hovering over yours as you felt your heart beat insanely fast in your chest. A fiery, desire filled warmth filled your entire body as his dirty words filled your head.

“I want nothing more than to strip you naked and have my way with you, doll. And I know you want the same. I know you think of me when you get yourself off at night, but I assure you, I’ll make you feel better than your toys ever could babygirl. I wanna hear you scream my name as I make you come multiple times until you forget your own name, you want that, doll?” as he spoke, you felt a warm liquid dripping down your thigh. When you realized what it was, your blood rushed to your face. Bucky literally had you dripping wet with only his words.

“Fuck…” your voice trailed off as his hand caressed your inner thigh.

You let out a moan as his hand gripped your throat a little tighter. You smiled, looking up at him while slightly grinding your lower abdomen to his.

“You’re into choking, huh? And very needy too I see. Tell me, doll, what do you want?” he asked, pressing his entire body against your so you could feel all of him.

His skin on yours felt just right.

“I want you, Buck. Right now!” you said, loud and clear but he wasn’t done yet. He planned on teasing you even more.

“Watch that tone with me doll! Now tell me, where do you want me?” his words sent shivers throughout your entire body.

His hands traveled up and down your skin, causing goose bumps along the way.

“Down there,” you replied, pointing your finger downwards your body, smirking at him as he sank to his knees.

His hands ran up and down your things, causing your body to shake as he chuckled.

“You’re so responsive, baby, I’ll make you feel so good I promise,” he whispered while kissing your inner thighs. Licking the droplet of lust which oozed out of you earlier. The whole of it was so vulgar that your eyes rolled back.

Your hands tangled into his hair as he slowly slipped your underwear down your legs, causing you to shiver at his bare touch.

Once you stepped out of the red underwear, his mouth latched on to your core. His tongue moving back and forth from your entrance to your clit, while his eyes looked up at you. Having his head in the middle of your shaky legs was spine-tingling.

His hands wrapped around your hips, spreading you slightly while nuzzling his mouth deeper into your core as you let out multiple moans and groans.

“You taste amazing baby,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for a brief moment as he slipped two metal fingers deep inside you, slowly. He watched you frown in pleasure as you tugged on the roots of his dark hair.

“Bucky… oh my god” you moaned shamelessly. And he smirked again.

He kept his fingers buried in you, constantly rotating them or slipping them in and out of you as he stood up once again, claiming your lips.

His mouth was wet, and you could see your wetness all across his beard.

His tongue slipped past your lips and gently stroked the top of your mouth. His fingers worked relentlessly between your folds and you felt a warm pressure forming in between your hips just as his metal fingers curled up inside you, brushing against a weak spot you barely knew you had.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands still tangled into his hair.

“You like my fingers in your cunt, huh, doll? You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?” he asked, panting against your mouth as he felt his pants grow tighter and tighter.

But when you didn’t answer, his frustration got the best of him.

He slipped his hands out of your heat, making you whimper. He harshly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“Answer me when I talk to you baby, don’t be a brat, yeah?” but you could barely form a proper sentence to reply back so when you said nothing, he messily grabbed a chunk of your hair, tugging at it lightly and brought you to your knees.

You knelt in front of him, your core still dripping and throbbing because he didn’t grant you your release yet.

“Bucky, I –,” he cut you off immediately.

“Shh princess, now get to work,” he held your head gently as you unbuckled his pants quickly, almost desperate to please him.

You pulled down his pants and underwear and almost immediately took him into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip for a little while, making him grunt in pleasure.

“You look so good on your knees, doll, with my cock in your mouth,” he moaned out loud, pushing himself into your mouth slightly.

You bobbed your head around his tip, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You repeated the same thing over and over again until he quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, which notified you that he was really close to coming undone.

But since he didn’t let you cum, you weren’t gonna let him cum either.

You removed him from your mouth and slowly licked the slit on the top of his tip, tasting his pre cum as your hands toyed with his balls, earning a moan out of him. You smiled in satisfaction as you rose up to your feet.

His eyes widened when he realized what you just did.

“But -, but baby, I –,”

“Shh, just fuck me, soldier. I want you so bad, Bucky, it hurts. Please,” you pleaded, unhooking your bra and letting it fall on the ground, leaving you both completely bare.

“Come here, doll,” he whispered, smashing his lips to yours. Kissing and biting your mouth as his lined himself at your still dripping entrance.  

He brushed his tip up and down your entrance, not fully entering you and it drove you crazy.

“Bucky, please, n-no more teasing,” you moaned, and he chuckled.

His hand at your throat held your neck a little tighter, choking you slightly.

“Else what, huh, doll?” he saw how needy you were for him and it filled him with a sense of pride.

As response, you just moaned when he slowly entered you. Allowing you to feel every vein on his length and feel yourself stretch to your maximum so he could fill you up completely.

“Ah fuck! Bucky!” you moaned as he slipped out of you and slipped in you once more.

He groaned as he filled you to the brim, slowly moving in and out of you.

“You feel so good, doll. All wet and warm for me, damn it!” he grunted out as you rotated your hips against him, adding more the sensation.

His filthy words and his movements around your body caused an assortment of swear words to leave your mouth. A mouth which he soon started to nibble on.

His teeth tugged at your bottom lip while he moved in and out of you at an increased pace. His metal arm was still gripping your throat while the other one held your hip, probably leaving a deep purple bruise as a memoir – adding to those around your tits and along your neck.

The momentum he created with his length at your core further increased the tightening pressure in between your hips and you desperately needed to come undone. With each passing second and each stroke of Bucky’s length, you felt you orgasm building up quickly and you knew immediately that you wouldn’t last longer.

Your quiet screams only encouraged Bucky to move quicker. You felt your legs starting to shake as you knees felt weak, unable to hold your body weight.

“Bucky, baby, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned against his cheek as ragged breaths left his sinful lips.

“Not yet! Look at me,” he gripped your jaw, forcing your eyes to stare into his, “Who is making you feel this good, huh, doll? Tell me, who?” he grunted, sweat dripping from his forehead to his sharp jawline.

He applied more pressure at your throat and he fucked you until you could no longer form a complete sentence. He somehow managed to hit all the right spots.

“Y-you are, Buck…” your words turned into a moan as you could no longer hold it back. So, you came hard, with a quiet scream. Mumbling how good he made you feel against his cheek.

 You felt his length pulsating inside of you as you rode out your orgasm, and you knew he was close. With a couple more strokes, Bucky came undone as well, his warm liquid hitting your walls which made you squirm against his bare body.

“Fuck, baby, you were so good,” he whispered, his hand leaving your neck and caressing your cheek as he slowly slipped out of you.

“You too, Buck,” you giggled, and kissed his lips one more time.

He broke the kiss and spoke up again.

“You didn’t fuck Thor though, did you?” he asked, making you laugh as he pressed your body against his once more.

“No, but why does that bother you?” you grabbed his face in both your hands and kissed his nose, making him smile down at you.

“Good, because I don’t want anyone else touching what’s mine,” he nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed his way up to your lips again before whispering a quick, “you’re mine.”

 The two of you hurried to get dressed and as soon as you zipped your jacket back up, somebody pushed down the door.

Dust particles flew around for a bit, making your vision blurry for a while before you could focus again on who was in front of you.

“There you guys are! Are you okay? We’re so sorry we took so long, the entire west wing collapsed and we didn’t know where you guys were,” Nat explained, pulling you in for a wind pipe crushing hug.

“Its okay, Nat. Actually, that gave Bucky and I plenty of time to, uh, work on our issues,” you explained, briefly looking at Bucky who had the same cocky smile on his face and Steve beamed.

“That’s great! Now let’s go home,” Steve said, ushering you and Bucky out of the room. But that was until you heard Tony’s voice.

“Uh, are we just gonna collectively ignore the bright red bra that’s on the floor?” he asked, pointing towards it a few feet away from where you stood and everybody’s gaze fell on your forgotten bra on the floor.

Shit!

[just-general-stuff]

Back To Where We Started

So this is it huh? He knew it was bound to happen regardless.

Red painted the white blanket that he laid upon as pain flared from his side. Yet, he didn’t take heed of it. Merely, he gave a sigh of resignation as he felt his body grow colder with each passing second. It wasn’t a question if he would die in the fight against bio-terrorism. It was only a matter of when.

He could have retired, could have just settled down and lived to a ripe old age. Perhaps, he could have watched his dear sister get married and watch her start her own family.

But he didn’t retire. Instead, he chose to honor Piers by continuing to fight in the war against bio-terrorism. But no matter how hard he fought, the war only grew worse. No matter how many bioterrorist organizations he would destroy, many more would rise from its ashes.

But what was worse was that the governments around the world, the very same governments whom swore to work alongside the B.S.A.A. to help them stop all bio-terrorism, would help the very same organizations that threaten to destroy the world.

So long as it benefited them, they could care less. And then when the dealings would come to light, they would pretend and say they have no idea of such dealings.

The same old story told time again and again.

And then Claire died. Killed during an outbreak that occurred in the city she was visiting for a holiday.

She had always come out of those outbreaks alive. She had survived Raccoon City for crying out loud. But he had forgotten that she was only human.

And humans bleed and they die.

In the end, everyone that he loved had all died and left him.

In time, he started to realize that his former Captain was right.

The world was rotten to the core. There was living proof. Those folks he worked with, those whom would smile and promise aid, those were their masks. At the end of the day, they would choose to destroy themselves rather than stop this madness. They would willingly let themselves fall over the cliff all for a small measure of victory against their foes not caring of the consequences of their actions.

The dwindling hope he had was completely extinguished until all that was left of him was a hollow shell of the man that he once was. A jaded man whom hated this very world. But even as he hated the world, he still chose to fight. He didn’t know what else he could do now. He had spent decades of his life in a war that he barely knew what he could do if he chose to stop fighting.

So he left the B.S.A.A to join Blue Umbrella. His reason? Throw himself into the war deeper and make sure to wipe out every single one of them without a damn care of his own life.

Jill had tried to persuade him to stop this crazy mission but he remained adamant on his decision. He even cut all ties he had with Jill, Barry and the B.S.A.A. He didn’t need loose ends in his new life.

He fell deeper and deeper into the darkness where the lines were blurred and where everything was no longer black and white.

He had shot Mia because she was infected. Harsh but it was the only way to stop further infection and spreading of the damn virus even though it broke Ethan.

He didn’t blame the man for shooting him. Hell, he would have shot anyone whom had hurt his sister.

So now here he was. Sprawled on the cold snow inches away from death.

The crack of ice and snow suddenly got his attention and he slowly turned his head to see a person in familiar black clothing walking towards him. The stranger continued to approach him stopping only a few inches away from his side.

“Who…?”

Blinking, his vision slightly clears and much to the brunette’s shock, there looking down at him was Albert Wesker.

“You’re… You’re dead.” Was the Albert Wesker he was seeing right now simply a hallucination that his slowly oxygen-deprived brain cooked up?

“How astute of you to notice that, Chris. But you’ll soon die as well. Mr. Winters got a pretty good hit on you.” The man spoke with a calm tone not once betraying his underlying emotions.

Why does this man, his former Captain, and the one whom he fell for years ago still haunt him? Why couldn’t he just disappear and leave him be? He would have preferred seeing Claire or Piers again.

He probably figured that Wesker was here to gloat of his victory as he bled out in the snow.

“You’ve come to gloat then? Laugh it up then Wesker! Shout out your triumph over me dying at your feet!” Chris yells out, making him cough harshly coating his lips with spatters of blood.

Lowering down onto his haunches, Wesker takes his shades off. Instead of the blazing red eyes that continue to haunt him in his nightmares, Chris was met with the cool blue that he had always found endearing much to his utter shock.

“No. I’m not here to gloat.” The blonde spoke softly.  

This confused Chris. “Then… Then why are you here?”

“I figured that you don’t deserve to die alone out here Chris. Not after all that you’ve done. I may hate you for stopping my plans but even I never wished of you falling deeper into the darkness that I was in when I was still alive. And… I hated watching you spiral out of control more and more.”

“I was supposed to be the one that people fear in the dark. The monster that people would speak of in whispers. You were the hero that everyone looks up to. You’re the one that was supposed to save the goddamn world not let it pull you into its depravity.” Wesker grits out.

“I knew deep down it was only a matter of time before you see the truth. That the world truly is rotten to the core. But did I take pleasure in it? No. No I did not.” The blonde says, reaching a hand out and grasping Chris’s hand tight.

Much to the brunette’s shock, Wesker’s hand was warm. He hadn’t realized how much missed Wesker’s touch but now feeling his hand around his, it brought all the old deep feelings he had for the man to the forefront. Even as the years passed and he still hated the man for what he did, a part of him still loved and missed his former Captain.

Call him an idiot but he wasn’t a liar. Even if he tried to deny it vehemently to himself at first.

“I… I was a fucking fool. I should have known.” Chris whispers.

“Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know how depraved the world could truly be as much as I do. After all, I grew up in it. I was raised by such depraved people.”

“So now what? I’m going to die, Wesker.”

“…I guess we go back to the beginning.”

“…Back before this whole shitshow?”

“Yes. Perhaps in the afterlife we could have that chance. Or if we are reborn, I would not know. I am a man of science not faith.”

“You believe in such things?” Chris asks, astonished that Wesker would speak of such things. Wesker never struck him as a man who believed in an afterlife let alone reincarnation.

“If this encounter is anything but possible, perhaps it has changed my beliefs slightly.” Wesker says with a soft smile.

‘God, that smile. That damn smile.’ Chris thought as his throat tightened with emotion. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that smile that was only reserved for him back in S.T.A.R.S. until he saw it once more. “I would like that again, Wesker. I just… I just want to live a normal life for the both of us.”

Leaning in, Wesker plants a soft kiss on Chris’s forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The pain by now was long gone and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to close them and finally sleep. He was tired of fighting, tired of it all.  

“I’m so tired, Albert.” Chris murmurs tiredly.  

“Just sleep, Christopher. When you wake up, I’ll still be here. Just sleep.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

And with that Chris was able to relax and let Death claim him.

As he watches the brunette close his eyes and breathe out his last, Wesker gently tugs on Chris’s limp hand and from the cooling corpse emerged Christopher. But it wasn’t the haggard, jaded brunette that Wesker watched die before him. No, it was the young, hopeful man that Chris once was.

No longer was there pain in his eyes nor cold steeliness. No longer did darkness swirl in those brown orbs but instead his eyes twinkled with joy, hope and an innocence that once was lost.

“Back to where we started?” Chris asks returning Wesker’s smile with his own.

“Yes. Back to where we started.” He replies and the two head off, slowly disappearing into the snowy night together hand in hand.  

[kiyodu]

The Letters of Vincent van Gogh (Part I)

Quotes I Enjoy:

• Admire as much as you can, most people don't admire enough.

• That does not mean there are no old women, only that a woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved.

• Seek only light and freedom and do not immerse yourself too deeply in the worldly mire.

• Sorrow is better than joy -- and even in mirth the heart is sad -- and it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasts, for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.

• Our life is a pilgrim's progress. I once saw a very beautiful picture, it was a landscape at evening. In the distance on the right hand side a row of hills appearing blue in the evening mist. Above those hills the splendor of the sunset, the grey clouds with their linings of silver and gold and purple. The landscape is a plain or heath covered with grass and heather, here and there the white stem of a birch tree and its yellow leaves, for it was in Autumn.

Through the landscape a road leads to a high mountain, far far away. On the top of that mountain a city whereon the setting sun casts a glory. On the road walks a pilgrim, staff in hand. He has been walking for a good long while already and he is very tired. And now he meets a woman, a figure in black that makes one think of St. Paul's word: 'As being sorrowful yet always rejoicing.' That Angel of God has been placed there to encourage the pilgrims and to answer their questions.

And the pilgrim asks her: "Does the road go up hill then all the way?"

And the answer is: "Yes to the very end." And he asks again: "And will the journey take all day long?" And the answer is: "From morn till night my friend."

And the pilgrim goes on sorrowful yet always rejoicing, sorrowful because it is so far off and the road so long. Hopeful as he looks up to the eternal city far away, resplendent in the evening glow and he thinks of two old sayings, he has heard long ago, the one is:

There must much strife be striven

There must much suffering be suffered

There must much prayer be prayed

And then the end will be peace.

and the other:

The water comes up to the lips

But higher comes it not.

• Our life we might compare it to a journey, we go from the place where we were born to a far off haven. Our earlier life might be compared to sailing on a river, but very soon the waves become higher, the wind more violent, we are at sea almost before we are aware of it -- and the prayer from the heart ariseth to God: Protect me o God, for my bark is so small and Thy sea is so great. The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too.

The heart that seeks for God and for a Godly life has more storms than any other.

• It is dear to you, too, that 'sorrowful, yet always rejoicing', keep it in mind, for it is a good text and a good cloak to wear in the storm of life, keep it in mind at this time now that have been going through so much. And be careful, for though what you have been through is no small thing, yet as far as I can see there is something still greater ahead.

• One of these days I shall make a start with Streckfuss's Algemene Geshiedenis (General History), or rather I have started it already. It isn't easy, but I certainly hope that taking it one step at a time and doing the best one can will pay off. But it will take time - many testify to that, and not just Corot alone: "It took only forty years' work, thought and attention."

• I have been thinking about what we were discussing, and the saying sprang to mind: 'We are today what we were yesterday.' That does not mean one must stand still and may not try to improve oneself; on the contrary, it is a compelling reason for doing so and for being glad to do so. But to be true to the saying, one must not backslide, and once one has started to look at things freely and openly one must not face about or stray.

• There once was a man who went to church and asked, 'Can it be that my ardour has decieved me, that I have taken a wrong turning and managed things badly? If only I could be rid of this doubt and know for certain I shall come out victorious and succeed in the end.'

And then a voice answered him, 'And if you were certain, what would you do then? Act now as if you were certain and you will not be disappointed.' Then the man went on his way, not unbelieving but believing, and returned to his work no longer doubting or wavering.

• We have talked a good deal about our duty and how we may attain the right goal, and we have properly concluded that our first objective must be to find a specific position and a profession to which we can wholly devote ourselves. And I believe that we also agreed on this point, viz (in other words). that one must pay particular attention to the end, and that a victory gained after a whole life of work and effort is better than one gained with greater dispatch.

• Anyone who leads an upright life and experiences real difficulty and disappointment and yet is not crushed by them is worth more than one for whom everything has always been plain sailing and who has known nothing but relative prosperity.

• Let us but go forth quietly, testing everything and holding fast to what is good, and trying all the time to learn more of what is useful and adds to our experience. Weemoed (melancholy) may be a good experience, provided we write it as two words: wee (woe), which is in every man, each of us having reason enough, but it must be allied to moed (courage), and the more the better, for it is good to be someone who never despairs.

• If only we try to live righteously, we shall fare well, even though we are bound to encounter genuine sadness and real disappointments and shall probably commit real mistakes and do things that are wrong, but it is certainly better to be ardent in spirit, even though one makes more mistakes, than narrow-minded and over-cautious.

• It is good to love as many things as one can, for therein lies true strength, and those who much, do much and accomplish much, and whatever is done with love is done well.

• Better to say but a few words, but filled with meaning, than to speak many that are but idle sounds and as easy to utter as they are useless.

• Love is the best and the noblest thing in the human heart, especially when it is tested by life as gold is tested by fire. Happy is he who has loved much, and is sure of himself, and although he may have wavered and doubted, he has kept that divine spark alive and returned to what was in the beginning and ever shall be.

If only one keeps loving faithfully what is truly worth loving and does not squander one's love on trivial and insignificant and meaningless things then one will gradually obtain more light and grow stronger.

• The sooner one tries to become accomplished in a certain position in life and a certain field and adopts a relatively independent way of thinking and acting, and the more one keeps to set rules, the stronger in character one will grow, and that does not mean becoming narrow-minded.

It is a wise thing to do this, because life is short and time passes quickly. If one is accomplished in one single thing, understanding one single thing well, then one has insight into and knowledge of many other things into the bargain.

• It's as well to go out into the world from time to time and mix with other people (and sometimes one feels, in fact, obliged and called upon to do so) - or it may simply be one way 'Of throwing oneself into work unreservedly and with all one's strength' - but one who prefers to be quietly alone with his work and seems to need very few friends will go safest in the world and among people.

• One should never feel secure just because one has no difficulties or cares or handicaps, and one should never be too easy-going. Even in the politest circles and the bet surroundings and circumstances one should retain something of the original character of a Robinson Crusoe or of a primitive man, for otherwise one cannot be rooted in oneself, and one must never let the fire in one's soul die, for the time will inevitably come when it will be needed.

• He who chooses poverty for himself and loves it possesses a great treasure and will hear the voice of his conscience address him ever more clearly. He who hears that voice, which is God's greatest gift, in his innermost being and follows it, finds in it a friend at last, and he is never alone!

• It is good to go on believing that everything is more miraculous than one can ever begin to understand, for that is the truth; it is good to remain sensitive and humble and tender-hearted even though one may have to hide one's feelings, as is often necessary. It is good to be well versed in the things that are hidden from the wise and the learned of this world, but that are revealed as if by nature to the poor and the simple, to women and little children.

For what can one learn which is better than that which God has given by nature to every human soul and which goes on living and loving, hoping and believing, in the depth of every soul, unless we wantonly destroy it.

• The need is for nothing less than the infinite and the miraculous, and a man does well to be satisfied with nothing less, and not to feel easy until he has gained it.

That is what all great men have acknowledged in their works, all those who have thought a little more deeply and searched and worked and loved a little more than the rest, who have plumbed the depths of the sea of life. Plumb the depths, that is what we too must do if we want to make a catch, and if we sometimes have to work the whole night through without catch.

• So let us go forward quietly, each on his own path, forever making for the light, 'life up your hearts', and in the knowledge that we are as others are and that others are as we are and that it is right to love one another in the best possible way, believing all things, hoping for all things and enduring all things, and never falling. And not being too troubled by our weaknesses, for even he who has none, has one weakness, namely that he none, and anyone who believes himself to be consummately wise would do well to be foolish all over again.

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Doors 3, 4, 5 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

NSFW warnings: use of handcuffs and blindfolds

-

The God of Mischief blinked at you, both unbelieving and indignant.

“You will not dare stop now, will you?”

“Loki…” You knew how quickly you could make him cum to give him some quick relief from all your teasing but that would not satisfy him. Loki wanted to ravish you, he wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk… but your sense of responsibility rang in your ears strongly.

“We are not done.” He did not need to nod down to his aching erection but his point was clear. His gaze was piercing, threatening, his nostrils flaring. Loki would be angry if you interrupted your lovemaking now but what other choice did you have? People’s lives might be in danger… and there you thought December would be a time of peace.

When he realised you were indeed not coming back to bed, he growled. Irritated, he stood himself, flicking his wrists to get dressed. His full amour wrapped around his handsome body, covering him wholly… and yet failed to hide the giant bulge in his black leather trousers.

He offered you his hand which you took, earning you a sigh and teleported you both to the compound.

Only the fraction of a second later and a funny tingling on your skin as Loki’s magic faded away, you found yourself standing in knee-deep snow, the falling flakes almost as beautiful as Loki when he slept next to you. Oh, cheesy… but it was the horror unfolding in front of you that made you gasp.

A large hole had been torn into one of the thick walls, foreign creatures snarling as they poured inside like crabs being washed away from shore—how many? One dozen, two dozen maybe? You could swear you had seen them before. From afar, they looked a little like…

Loki pushed you behind you protectively the moment he realised. Those were Chitauri. His still aching erection forgotten and arousal now quickly fading, his instincts took over. Two sharp daggers materialised in his hands, his jaw clenching.

“Are those… h-how? Where do they come from?”

“We will find out.”

He tossed you one dagger which you caught skilfully. Loki had taught you how to use just a small dagger to your advantage. You fought your way through to the Avengers rapidly, taking only a few bruises and a cut on your calf. Nothing Loki would be unable to heal for you later.

“What took you so long?!” Tony bellowed, his voice mechanic due to his Iron Man suit. Steve flung Thor’s hammer at one of the Chitauri, killing it instantly before he darted forward to give him cover.

“Where the hell are those things coming from, Reindeer Games?” Loki’s dislike for the nickname he had chosen for him showed when he slid a passing Chitauri’s throat. But what irritated him even more was that he did not know. Most of them had died along with their abomination of a planet back when Stark destroyed it and Thanos was dead.

There were only a handful of them left, with the heroes all flying and jumping around to end them quickly and Loki destroying most of them. The dreadful silence spreading in the compound when the last disgusting body dropped dead to the ground rang in your ears like the screeching of a bat.

“What on Earth happened here?” You said breathlessly, leaning against Loki for support. Natasha pursed her lips when she saw.

-

They had attacked out of nowhere, remembering whom they had dealt with back in New York, so you learned when you sat at the huge glass table in the conference room, clutching a hot cup of coffee. It would explain the explosions you had heard on the phone.

“Do you have any idea where they came from?” You asked Loki quietly. You were pretty much the only one speaking to him like you would to any other civilised person. The God of Mischief lifted his chin, leaning back as his blue eyes briefly locked with Thor’s.

“They might not be the only ones who survived. More of them could be hiding here on Midgard.”

“Where?” Tony probed.

“They prefer dark places, preferably underground.”

“The sewers.” Natasha concluded.

“That could be an opportunity.”

“I’ll contact the local sanitary district. They can give us instant access to copies of the ground plans of the sewers. FRIDAY will have them within the next hour.”

-

“(Y/N), you are coming to our Christmas dinner, right?” Tony asked. While FRIDAY was doing all the work and searching for any alien abnormalities in the country over the last couple of weeks, the Avengers took the time to finally take a breath again.

Fighting creatures from outer space had long become a routine—and none of them were willing to let the jolly Christmas spirit escape through that giant hole in the wall.

“Of course… if I can bring Loki.”

“If he behaves,” he retorted grumpily. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes in response in an annoyed manner, resulting in Thor patting his back fiercely.

“Well, that’ll be fun, brother. We’ll stuff ourselves with turkey, open those Christmas crackers (Y/N) brings every year, play some games and drink mulled wine and chocolate fruit… you will love this Midgardian holiday.”

Loki said nothing. He had been quiet ever since the attack, only speaking a few words if necessary. His bad mood infected you. A particularly hard blow from one of the Chitauri had caused you a growing headache, a slight concussion maybe.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his body. “Call me if there’s any news. We’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Dr Cho should treat your wounds.” You shook your head quickly.

“Loki can do that.”

“Alright then... Anyhow, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can enjoy some mulled wine and fucking celebrate Christmas like we should.”

“Language…” Steve muttered. You nodded. Mulled wine sounded like a great idea, a Christmas market even better. You’d have to come up with something to comfort Loki after your prompt departure this morning after all.

-

His magic made it worse, the pain rippling through your head when he teleported you back into your bedroom nearly forcing you to your knees. Loki scooped you up like a bride when he noticed your growing weakness, making you lie down on your bed. His piercing blue eyes scanned your body so fast you shifted uncomfortably, hoping he would not find any major injuries.

“I took a hit on the head, should be fine in a few hours…” His gaze was strict, palm coming up to touch your forehead and ease your headache before he tended to your calf.

“Loki… are you okay? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“I am bursting.” You glanced down. He was still hard.

“How were you able to hide that from the Avengers?”

“You should be familiar with my illusions by now.” His voice changed. It became hoarse, demanding and darker, luring you right into doing his bidding—especially if that included you naked.

Both of you could tell you were in no condition to bring him release now. Besides, despite his erection, the moment was gone. There was a problem at hand—with aliens Loki would have preferred never having to see again.

A sigh escaped his lips as he joined you on the bed, pressing you against his strong body.

“Sorry…” Your eyes fell shut. “That’s not how I imagined our December to go.”

“Shh… never apologise, my sweet.” A small smile tugged on your lips when you fell back asleep to let your body recover.

 -

The following days were no better. You woke to countless messages from Tony, busied yourself with meetings and first searches down in the sewers. You only hoped that their suspicions were right and the Chitauri were indeed hiding underground—not to mention the tube in New York. As long as you were unsure every last one of them had been maimed, people’s lives were in danger—and that was hardly ideal at this time of the year.

Steve had roped Loki and you in so much you even forgot about opening your advent calendar. Well—Loki did not forget about it. Every morning, after your coffee had woken you up properly from the lack of sleep and time for yourselves, you noticed one box missing. You did not know where they had gone but surely, Loki was up to something. If he knew what he unpacked every morning, that was.

The fifth of December was a Thursday. None of you had had luck thus far in tracking down any remaining Chitauri—if there were any—but slowly, the government started to panic, wanting this issue to be resolved when all you wanted was a break from the humid air underground, all the dirt, vomit-up, rat shit and other emetic smells, not to mention the darkness.

This was not how you had imagined your pre-Christmas time to be. Furthermore… well, not every couple had sex every night and morning. But the advent calendar you had bought was inspiring and it tore your nerves apart that even in sleep, you were unable to rest properly.

Loki’s unease infected you. The Chitauri reminded him of his time with Thanos and whenever he suffered, then so did you. That was what tired you both.

You flinched when your phone rang, forcefully ripping you from slumber. Loki growled. With a flick of his hand, he switched it off and rolled over, preventing you from stirring.

That night he had healed your concussion and that bleeding cut on your calf, he had relieved himself under the shower after you had fallen asleep. He needed you today—and he knew how much you needed him too. Both of you had to relieve some stress and that advent calendar you had suggested to buy would help you do just that.

Yesterday’s door contained a blindfold. The day before it was lust-enhancing lube which could also be used as massage oil. This morning… Loki had removed the box last night already and hid it under your bed. Handcuffs… this morning he would make sure you both relaxed.

You were still half asleep by the time Loki gently took your wrists and held them down above your head. In this state, you were too tired to question him—right until you suddenly felt something soft around them, locking you to the bedpost.

“Loki?” Your eyes flew open. You glanced up to spot a pair of plush handcuffs immobilising your hands all the while Loki already busied himself with your sleepwear, slowly pulling it off your body.

“Lights out, sweet one…” He mused hoarsely. You gasped when he slipped the blindfold on you, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“S-so that’s where the boxes went.”

Loki chuckled. “You are not surprised, are you?”

“Never, Trickster.” You shivered when he removed the covers, exposing your now naked skin to his greedy eyes. You could tell he was licking his lips without even seeing him.

He had to admit, the surprises the advent calendar had revealed in the last three days had played right into his cards. Robbing you of some of your senses was the perfect way to take your minds off things and make you relax for him—and if anything, Loki wanted you to feel as good as you made him feel.

The massage oil smelled like fresh coconuts, like that shampoo you had used at the beginning of the year. It warmed quickly in his hands when he poured it into his palms, then spread it all over your abdomen.

Your breathing was shaky already. He grinned.

Loki shushed you when you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his touch. “Patience, my sweet…”

“W-what is that?”

“Massage oil,” he explained briefly. “Now close your eyes and let me pamper that beautiful body of yours.” Let me prepare your wanton quim for my aching length… he added silently.

In any other universe, Loki could have been a massage therapist. Magical big and soft hands explored your curves and found your knots, focusing on the muscles which needed his attention the most. Not a single body part was left out. He massaged your thighs and calves, your feet and your arms, your hips, your hands… his own breathing growing heavier the closer he inched between your legs.

You were dripping by the time he paid proper attention to your clit, circling it lazily and applying just enough pressure to make you bucked your hips again, a scream escaping your lips when he slipped two fingers inside your warmth to test your wetness. You were so close… the knot tightening in your stomach warming your whole body from head to toe, making you ready for waves of pleasure cursing through your limbs…

You moaned his name when you fell from the cliff, your tight walls clenching around his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading your clit firmly. He chuckled once more. With him, lust-enhancing lube was redundant.

“Loki, please…”

Your voice sounded like music in his ears. Freeing his pulsing erection from his trousers, he positioned himself between your legs, his tip, leaking pre-cum already, pressing against your wet and awaiting entrance. Power surged through him as he watched your blindfolded form awaiting his next move.

He sheathed himself inside you with but one firm thrust, his hands grabbing your hips for support. You moaned again, your cunt welcoming him as he retreated and rutted back into you, quickly finding a pace that made you both lose your minds.

The fact you could neither see nor touch him aroused you both even more. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure. Your wrists were getting sore from pulling at the handcuffs so much but you couldn’t care less. Knowing Loki was in charge and could do to you whatever he pleased felt so exciting by the time he was about to cum your body had already recovered for another orgasm.

You reached your high together, Loki groaning as he spilled himself inside you and his cock twitching against your walls as he filled you with your seed. You contracted around him, milking him for all he was worth until he collapsed on top of you completely spent, quickly waving his hand to free you from those handcuffs—even if he wished he could keep you like this for a while longer. Well… there would be a lot more time until Christmas.

“Thank you.” You murmured when he removed the blindfold for you and had you snuggle up against him. You didn’t thank him for the sex. You didn’t thank him for the orgasms… Loki and you were like two magnets, unable to resist one another. The closeness and body contact meant so much more than sex… and so did taking your minds off things before you returned to the exhausting life as an Avenger.

You had ended up as one of them by coincidence. You had no superpowers, no magical hammer that only you could lift and you did not turn into a green monster. You were merely a young woman with martial arts experience, pride and a sense for doing the right thing without being as self-righteous as Steve or as selfish as Tony had once been—you were somewhere in between, neither hero nor villain—which was one of the many reasons, so Loki had admitted to you once, why he had fallen in love with you.

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A/N: Door 6 will be opened tomorrow, on December 6th!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥