#sunflowers n skies

[rancidpancakebatter]

Picnics at Sunset - [L Lawliet]

Pairings: L (Death Note) x Female!Reader

Summary: You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Word Count: 14k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of death, nudity?, friends to lovers, first kiss, Use of Celcius, touch of angst (it's death Note, come on), Sappy thoughts of love

( Masterlist )

A/N: I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry this is so long, but so much of this show cuts to long internal dialogues within a conversation, and I tried to capture that. I think I did well, but it is a little long-winded. I don't know if I'll do a lot of writing for this character, but he got stuck in my head recently, and this was the only way I knew to let him go.

You sat at your desk, the computer screen you had been staring at for the past three hours was beginning to hurt your head. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes; then silently cursing as you felt your mascara smear against the pads of your fingers. You needed a break and something other than a slice of cake in your stomach. You looked to your right out of habit, ready to tell your friend that you were taking a break and he should do the same, but his chair was empty.

You looked around the room.

“He stepped outside,” a voice said.

Behind you was Matsuda. You jumped when he spoke, not realising he was there, and he apologised for startling you.

“Yeah, we should get you a bell,” you suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.” Matsuda laughed. “You know, if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, you can talk to me. I know I can’t come close to Ryusaki’s intelligence, but I’d like to think I have something to offer.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “I didn’t really need anything from him, just wanted to see what he was up to.”

“Well, I think he just needed some space to think. You know how he is.” 

“That I do,” You agreed, “And I know If he wants to be alone, he’ll have no problem telling me himself.” 

Matsuda laughed again, “I’m sure you’re right. But I have a feeling he won’t shoo you away. He has a soft spot for you.”

Just the idea of L turning you away had you put out. You crossed your arms, turning away with a huff. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

You heard Matsuda chuckling behind you, wishing you luck. 

You marched up the stairs, down the hall, and got in the elevator, heading for the roof. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but admire the walls around you. The building L designed was quite impressive. You greatly enjoyed the glass elevator, preferring it over any others. Once you passed the tenth floor, the city could be seen. You were usually greeted by blinding sun and clear blue skies, but today, the sky was an enchanting apricot colour, blanketed by thick pink clouds heavy with rain. The sun was peaking from behind the silver buildings as if waiting to see you before finally saying goodbye. You waved to the people below, wishing them well on their oblivious wayfaring. 

Soon you reached the top floor, and you pushed open the door to get to the roof access. The door to the roof was already opened, so you called out.

“Ryusaki! You out there?”

You were greeted by silence and tried again.

“I’m alone!”

Only then did you get a reply, “Did you bring any food?”

You chuckled, stepping out onto the roof. “No, I’m sorry.”

L stood out in the open, basking in the fading light and staring at the sky, unbothered by the cold air blowing. He was slouched over and hands firmly in his pockets. He turned his head to you, and the vibrant sky poured over his pale skin, drenching the soft canvas in the colours of monarchs and sunflowers. The light danced around his prominent eyes, flames in a ring of stone. His lips looked kissed by a dreamsicle. You looked away, finding your way back to reality. 

“Did you want me to go back and get something?” You offered, throwing your thumb back towards the door. 

“No,” He said, turning back to the sun, “Watari should be up soon.”

Before you could question, you heard the door open and close and the clinking sound of plates as they made their way up the stairs. 

“Hello, dear,” The old man greeted with a smile. 

He carried a tray with a full tea set in one hand and a wicker basket in the other, with a blanket draped across his arm. You watched as he laid it out on the ground, pulling plates and silverware from the basket along with a candelabra. Ryuga settled himself as Watari lit the candles, then gestured for you to do the same. The only clear spot to sit was right beside him, and you took it as gracefully as possible. 

“I have brought sandwiches and various tea cakes,” Watari explained, “along with Keemun Mao Feng tea and honey. I hope you enjoy.”

You both thanked him and he left, closing the roof exit behind him. L sat, perching next to you, watching as you admired the display. 

“It’s all my favourites,” You observed. “Why did you ask him to bring this?”

His thumb came to rest on his lip, gauging your reaction. 

“I knew you would be getting hungry soon. I told Watari to bring some acceptable food if you didn’t grab any on your way up.”

You furrowed your brows in innocent confusion, “How did you know I’d come?”

His head turned away and you notice his feet shuffling, a tell for his anxiety. 

“You always do.” He said with a shrug. 

Your heart thumped affectionately as he turned his head, and your gaze fell back onto the band of sterling silver in his eyes. You smiled fondly at the man, and he had to look away. He busied himself with the basket, pulling out nicely wrapped sandwiches in brown butcher paper. He read the options out for you and passed you your selections. He then reached in and pulled out a white box with a blue bow. He began to tug at it, then stopped, offering it to you. 

You giggled, unravelling the satin ribbon. When he pulled off the lid, a tiered display stand stood with ten layers of tiny cakes with an array of colours, creams, and toppings. L looked over the selection with a careful eye, then chose a spongy square with a raspberry on top. He pinched it between his fingers and brought it to his lips. You watched his selection process as you braided the ribbon into a piece of your hair, presenting it to your friend with a smile. He nodded in approval, and then you finally took a bite of your sandwich, moaning as the myriad of flavours filled your senses. 

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you said, pushing it towards Ryusaki, “You’ve gotta try it.”

His chewing stops as he eyes the sandwich in front of him like it were a loaded gun. 

“I’m okay.” He said politely. 

You accepted his dismissal, taking another bite from your sandwich, but still curious about it. 

“Why don’t you eat anything but sugar?” You asked through a mouthful of sourdough. 

“Well,” Ryusaki began, “Desserts tend to be more homogeneous in texture and taste. I find most ‘real’ food reduces my deductive skills by approximately twenty-five percent.”

You looked up at the beauty of the ending day around you and breathed in the air of the city. 

“Do you need your deductive skills right now?” You asked softly, eyes still trained on the sky. 

Moments passed in peaceful silence. You could hear a dog barking and the mummer of the life teeming below you. People going about their everyday lives, despite the horror of this new world. You tried to join them now and then, encouraging Ryusaki to do the same– to have a life outside of, despite of Kira. From your peripherals, you saw him spread his knees apart, sitting in a cross-legged position. You watched as he continued adjusting, trying to find a comfortable position. When he settled, you turned your eyes to his. 

“Would you like some tea?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, and you poured him half a cup from the teapot, filling the rest with cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. He thanked you when you passed it to him, fingers brushing briefly. You could tell he was a little uncomfortable, probably much more in tune with the “loss of thought” he was experiencing than any other person would be. He held his cup in both hands, elbows resting on his knees as he looked into the wheat-coloured drink. You left L to his thoughts, knowing he would share them if he deemed them important. You instead focused on tucking the rest of your sandwich away, opening another to try. You were happy Watari cared enough to cut them into little triangles. 

“What are your plans after the Kira case?”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, not expecting the question. You wiped at your mouth with a napkin, trying to grab your composure. 

“I haven’t given much thought to it,” you said, “but I know it will be a bittersweet moment when we catch him.”

Ryuga sat up a little, his interest piqued as he took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” you began, “I’ve met a lot of great people by working on this investigation. I don’t imagine our paths will cross much once this is all resolved, even if we do survive. But it makes me happy to think that one day they’ll get to walk into their front doors and hug their families without the fear of them being ripped away as collateral damage.”

“Not to mention,” You continued, “at the risk of sounding selfish, this job has some really nice perks. I’m compensated well, I get free room and board, I haven’t done my own laundry in four months, and I can even get company-provided gourmet picnics on the rooftop. There’s a lot to miss.”

“I must admit, I will miss the camaraderie,” L said softly. “But I fear the fallout from Kira’s arrest more.”

You knew what he meant. If he was right, and Light and Misa were Kira and The Second Kira, then it would destroy the task force. Matsuda’s heart would shatter, as would Mogi’s, though he’d hide it better than the former. Chief Yagami would likely suffer another heart attack, or perhaps snap entirely. And while you yourself didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t deny what you knew was true. With the proof of shinigami's existence and an otherworldly murder weapon disguised as a harmless notebook downstairs, nothing could be ruled out. You questioned what other powers came with the notebook, and how those powers transferred. 

Bribing Ryuke into answering all your questions was easy enough. It turns out he had never known the taste of a Fuji apple, only enjoying the common red delicious. One was enough to get him hooked. You presented everything you had learned about ownership of the notebook, how it can be passed, and how it affects the user. You and L had come to the same conclusion: sometime in Light’s confinement, he transferred ownership, as did Misa. You knew for sure when Misa visited Light the other day in the lobby. 

At the beginning of the investigation, he refused to toy with her emotions, as it went against his code. And you found it comforting, knowing Kira would have no problem doing that, and Light was immediately opposed. For months, he made no effort to show affection to Misa, rebuffing any advance or innuendo she made, but you watched as he brought her into a hug. You watched as she melted into it, savouring the sparring touch and every word he whispered into her ear. You knew he hadn’t magically fallen in love with the girl, but was using the love she had for him. 

Yes, Light had changed, and the repercussions were terrifying.

Ryusaki was silent. By now, the sun had set, and the moon began climbing up a ladder of stars. The candlelight flickered, making shadows jump and jive across your friend’s face. The shifts were jarring, but the gentle lighting softened his hardened edges. Your eyes traced the slope of his nose, down his plush lips, and his long neck. You wished to stretch out a curious finger to replace your itinerant eyes. 

“Would you like a cake?” Ryusaki asked, changing the subject. You allowed the distraction, deciding you would bring it up again later, but not know. 

You selected one with orange filling and chocolate drizzle. It was delicious, falling apart in your fingers as you ate it. You heard a soft chuckle leave your friend's mouth and you looked up at him confused. He said nothing, instead motioning towards his face. You tilted your head, not understanding what he meant. Before you could ask, L brought a napkin to the corner of your mouth, gently rubbing it across your bottom lip. 

Your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped breathing. His touch was like the flames of the flickering candles, igniting the skin he polished. His eyes flicked up to yours and you were lost in a pool of obsidian, his pupils vast in the stary night. 

“There,” he said softly, “all gone.”

You searched for your voice, and it came out in a breathy whisper, “Thanks.”

He continued, unbothered by the unprecedented physical contact while you took a sip of your tea, in hopes that would help your unsteady heart. Before you had much time to recover, He spoke again. 

“My favourite colour is blue.”

You blinked dumbly, at the man as he readjusted uncomfortably. 

“My favourite cake is Strawberry Vanilla Sponge Cake,” He continued, “and I sing in the shower.”

You laughed out of shock, and words continued to spill from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them. 

“If I could have a superpower, I would want invisibility. I think four-leaf clovers are ridiculously overblown, but I admire their inherent whimsy. I really like The Beatles, which is very embarrassing as I am British. But even more so because I listen to ‘We Can Work It Out’ when I get frustrated. They bring me a sort of comfort. I’ve always wanted a cat. I think it’s funny when they’re given people names, or named after ridiculous things. If I had one, I’d get a tuxedo cat and name it 3,4,4,5-tetramethylcyclohexa-2,5-dien-1-one.” You open your mouth to ask what that was, but he answered it before you could, “It’s a cyclic dienone, more commonly known as penguinone, and though it has no applicable uses, it’s funny.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his sudden urge to tell you all of these things. In his unblinking eyes, you saw something close to desperation and it confused you, forcing you to look away. You missed the way Ryusaki’s face fell. 

“Are you…upset?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sorry if I overshared.”

“No, no,” You reassured, trying to alleviate some of the guilt that filled your chest at his apprehension. “I’m just confused”

“I was trying to establish trust,” he explained cooly. 

Your brows furrowed, “Do you think I don’t trust you?”

“No, I-” he paused, releasing a sigh that moved his shoulders. 

“Ignore me,” he said sadly, “Nothing I say lately seems to make much sense.”

Your heart shattered at the uncertainty in his voice. He usually spoke with such conviction. To hear him unsure, insecure in sensibility– his intelligence, really –it made you nauseous. 

“Ryusaki,” you began, but he looked away. 

“Ryusaki,” you tried again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder, “your sense is still very intact. You’re not the crazy one.”

He looked at your hand, where it rested without hesitancy. 

“Look,” you continued, “Someone is trying to kill you. And it could very likely be your best friend. You’re making more sense than anyone else would in your situation.”

Suddenly his eyes shot to yours. There was a small fire burning there, and you worried that you had upset him. You began to remove your hand, but he rested his on yours, keeping it pressed against his shoulder. Your heart leapt at the contact, and you prayed he didn’t notice. Though, if you knew anything about Ryusaki, he did and already tucked it away as useful information. 

“Light Yagami is not my best friend.” He said simply, “You are.” 

You couldn’t fight the smile that sprouted from the sentiment. 

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Your smile grew more teasing, “But you didn’t even chain yourself to me.”

L smiled too, “I didn’t have to.”

Time passed in silence. It was a bit awkward, your hand remained on his shoulder as the candles burned. You were getting chilly, the night air nipping at you through your t-shirt. L’s hand kept yours still, you were much too nervous to move it away. Especially when you could see your friend thinking very hard. 

He suddenly turned toward you, removing his hand and jostling yours. His thumb came to his lip, running it across and moving the muscle. 

“There are a lot of social customs that I haven’t gotten to participate in, due to my isolated childhood, and even more so because of my dangerous career,” he said, “for instance, I had never had friends until this investigation, and now I have three. But that also means I haven’t experienced a lot of the common experiences that come with friendship.”

He looked you over, trying to gauge your reaction thus far. You seemed at ease but attentive. His eyes darted to the blue streak in your hair, and felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. He was amazed by how light-hearted you could be, despite the heavy burdens you carried. You shone so brightly, he was almost embarrassed to ask you to share.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with that. I think it’s important to my development, and general understanding of the human condition.”

You were delighted to hear that he was thinking about such “trivial” things. As you became closer to L, you quickly realised that he lived a very lonely life. You could tell he had convinced himself that was what he wanted, but you knew a life of work wasn’t enough, and he deserved more. You always encouraged him to take care of more than his brain; to value his body and his spirit as well. 

“Of course L,” you nearly cheered, “what did you have in mind?”

You waited patiently for his response, trying your best not to shrink under his gaze. You were sure that his eyes were a large reason as to why he made such a great detective. When he focused his eyes on someone, it made them feel see-through; like he could see everything that made up that person. Like he could read your thoughts. 

“Can I-“ he began, then stopped. It was rare to see him trip over his words. “I would like- would it be okay if we hugged?”

Lightning struck across the sky, and you flinched, startled by the sound. You looked up into the dark, trying to find the flash of light you knew was long gone. You spotted the thick, rolling clouds hovering above you, and you hadn’t noticed before. Then the thunder rumbled, and the cry was resonant, penetrating your bones as it rolled through you. Then slowly, rain began falling from the sky. A few drops landed on your face, and you could feel them beginning to stick to your clothes. 

When your shock faded away, you looked back at your friend. He was looking at you intently, hunched over like always. You opened your mouth to respond, but L spoke before you. 

“Let’s step inside,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder like you had before, “you’re shivering.”

You hadn’t realised that you were, but as you looked down at your hands, you couldn’t deny the tremble. He stood and began packing up everything on the blanket, refusing your help when you offered even though the rain had picked up. It was steady now, easily soaking through your clothes and his in turn. Once everything was tucked away, he guided you inside, opening the door for you. 

As you walked down the steps, your mind spun around his words. He had asked to hug you, someone who you thought would be pretty averse to physical touch. You were surprised he let you lay a hand on him at all, and even more surprised when he reciprocated the action. It could’ve just been an experiment, a test to see how it made him feel, but you found yourself reviewing your own results. 

You hadn’t really touched L before. There was no reason to. Even when he fell out of his chair over the whole “Shinigami” thing, you let the others crowd him. Your hands had maybe brushed here and there when passing sweets or documents, but intentional, prolonged contact was never made until today. You couldn’t deny his behaviour had been odd lately, though that was to be expected with the stress he was under. You wondered if he was indulging out of curiosity or a fear of missing out on life. 

You jumped again as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, followed by the soft beginnings of rain, now slowly collecting on the glass walls around you. You began walking down the hall and jerked your head to beckon Ryusaki, who seemed deep in thought. You watched the rain grow, drops colliding and running down the glass. You stopped to trace the tracks left, your body shuttering against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” your friend spoke quietly, as there was no one but you here, and no reason to raise a voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You looked at him with shock, but he refused to look at you. 

“Ryusaki, I haven’t felt uncomfortable around you since we started this investigation. Why would that change now?” When he didn’t respond, you bumped his shoulder with yours, “Seriously though, if you ever do make me uncomfortable, I won’t let you live it down.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You both continued to stare off into the distance in silence. You began breathing out hot puffs of air and drawing in the condensation. Meaningless shapes littered the space as you got lost in your thoughts. 

You felt stuck between knowing and knowing nothing. You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted once again when you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you looked down to see pale, slender hands embellished with tendons and glistening in the light. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing him appear so close behind you in your shared reflection. 

“You’re still shivering.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes obscured by his shaggy hair, “A blanket should help.” 

You offered a kind, timid smile in thanks, turning to face him. Your cheeks filled with blood though you couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was just because he was touching you again when he’s never really done that before. Or maybe it was the fact that he was concerned about you. Or maybe it was the intimacy of it all, how close he was and how gentle his touch was. 

His hallowed, all-seeing eyes met yours and you lost your breath. You wanted to look away, feeling pierced by his gaze, but you couldn’t– you wouldn’t. “If this isn’t sufficient, let me know. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not,” You chuckled as he adjusted the material on your shoulder, “I walked out willingly. Yeah, you baited me into staying with food and tea, but I saw your plan, and I decided to go along with it.”

L smiled shyly, “I never could fool you.”

Your brows furrowed, and your heart sank. 

“Can.” You corrected sternly. “You never can fool me.”

“Ah, Of course.” L said, removing his hands from you and tucking them back into his pockets, “You’re too observant for me to keep a secret. You’re always the first in the room to know what I’m thinking.”

He didn’t directly address his slip-up– referring to himself in the past tense as if he had died –so you didn’t either, instead filing that away under “more things to bring up later”. 

“What can I say?” You teased. “Great minds think alike.”

“That they do,” he muttered, though you could tell his mind had taken him far away again. 

You turned back to the window, and he joined you there. The rain had picked up, the heavy clouds drawing nearer. Your body buzzed with the electricity in the air. You could feel the winds of change surging through the city, and it filled you with determination.

“You should change,” Ryusaki whispered, “you’ll catch a cold.”

“Please,” You said, rolling your eyes and landing on his. “We were out there for less than an hour, and it never dropped below four degrees.”

“That’s still rather cold,” He hid his eyes from you, and you missed the sparks he carried there. “Not to mention the addition of rain.”

“If you’re so worried about my immune system,” you quipped, “studies show that hugs can actually help fight illness.”

That got a reaction out of the man, whipping his head to look at you. 

“Is that so?” He asked, amusement teeming in his thin, grey irises. “Is it the exposure to more germs?”

“Possibly,” You admitted, “But it’s mostly the stress relief. Hugs reduce your cortisol and noradrenaline levels, improving blood pressure and general heart health. Also, with both of our body heats working together, it might help warm me up.”

L brought his thumb to his lip again, pondering your words. 

“Maybe you have a point.” He muttered, “Perhaps we should test this theory.”

You agreed but neither of you moved, both too afraid to make the first move. You had hugged people before. You had hugged your family and many friends, so hugging Ryusaki shouldn’t be that nerve-racking, and yet, your body was buzzing just at the concept. 

Suddenly, L Spread his arms, his figure drowning in his baggy sweater. It happened in slow motion, or at least it felt like it did. He dove towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, unintentionally pinning yours to your side, and his chin landed on the crown of your head gently. 

You tensed, not expecting him to just go for it. Your face was pressed into his chest, your nose brushing his collarbone because of how his sweater had shifted. You were suddenly self-conscious breathing on him, trying your best to make sure your lungs were expanding and contracting naturally, but you could feel the awkwardness in your muscles. 

“I don’t think this is working,” He said, his jaw moving against your head, “Your heart rate has only elevated. This seems to be…bothersome to you.”

He slowly removed himself but remained close, focusing his trying eyes on you, hands back in his pockets. “Please, tell me how you feel.”

“Well, firstly, you surprised me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Laughter bubbled up due to his unwavering gaze that affected you, though you didn’t want to concede to that. “And second, I’m not sure that counted as a hug. You trapped my arms, so I couldn’t reciprocate it properly.”

“I see,” He said, not showing any emotion you could detect (And you had gotten pretty good at reading L at this point). “What can I do better?”

His determination was…adorable. He was adamant about this, about hugging you better. You wouldn’t have thought this was something he ranked so highly in importance, and you felt flattered. 

“Open your arms again,” You instructed, scooting closer. 

He followed your orders, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. You took a quick breath, then brought your arms around his waist, then rested your ear between his pecs. There you heard his heart. You expected a steady thrum, but instead, the muscle beat like a kick drum without cause. But you supposed if you only fed your body sugar and caffeine, your heart would go crazy too.

He was also much comfier than you expected his skin and bones to be. His frame felt right in your arms, and a word flitted through your mind: safe. He was safe here in your arms, and you felt safe here too. 

You remembered then that he was still standing there with his arms fully extended, like an owl stretching their wings. 

“You can wrap your arms around me like before now,” You said into his chest. 

He did as you said, and you felt an instant relief. Your blanket was wrapped around him, and you were surrounded by L. He was soft, like the petals of a Gardinia– like the ones your mother used to grow. He smelled like chocolate and strawberries, though with his diet, you were sure he sweated out sugar. In the refracted light the droplets cast, it looked just like that, like sugar crystals dancing across his skin.

Your nose picked up hints of lavender you recognised as the fabric softener Watari swore by. You wanted to bottle the sents and wear them yourself. You found yourself snuggling in closer, drawn in by the comforts of L.

You sighed in contentment, closing your eyes. His heartbeat stabilized, beating slower but strong. Slowly, he adjusted himself, bringing his arms tighter around you and turning so his ear rested against you and not his hewn jaw. Many moments went by like that, with nothing but the instrumental played by the rain, steady breathing, and hearts beating. As time went on, your heartbeats began to sync, beating together. You felt warmth spread throughout you at the thought. You liked this. You liked being close to Ryusaki. 

“How long do these usually last?” He whispered into the rich silence. 

“It depends on the friends, everyone’s comfort levels.” You replied thoughtfully. “Some people only hug for a few seconds; others hold each other like this. But it’s recommended that you get at least four hugs a day.”

He hummed, considering your answer. “I definitely haven’t been fulfilling that quota.”

“It’s okay,” You said through a laugh, “Me either.”

“Perhaps,” L said, putting on his detective voice, “If you have found this as enjoyable as I, we could do this more often– try to reach that benchmark more. The act of hugging seems to increase my oxytocin levels, which feels different than the dopamine confections give me. If it affects you the same way, I think that could be good for us both.”

Your laughter danced across this skin. “I can’t believe you can feel the difference between happy hormones.”

“Of course I can.” He said, completely unphased by your disbelief. “Dopamine feels more like I’m doing a good job, and Oxytocin is…”

You waited patiently while he found the words. 

“Oxytocin makes me more…sentimental,” He landed on. 

“I guess that makes sense,” You mumbled into his chest. “Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the title that would have hurt coming from anyone else. 

“I would be okay with that,” You said, addressing his proposal, “If we hugged more often.”

“Great,” He said, and you could hear his smile. L could feel how the cold continued to cling to your skin. Although hugs were supposed to help fight illness, he doubted it was a cure. “We should finish up then so you can change.”

He released his hold on you and began to pull away, but without thinking, you held on tighter, your brows furrowing. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I just don’t want to leave this.” L brought a hand to his chin, cradling it and trying his best not to jostle you. “Is it the hug that you want, or is it me?”

Your eyes bugged at his question. Immediately, you let go, creating distance as you jumped back. You reacted as if he had struck you instead of asking a straightforward question to better understand the situation. 

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, not unlike a fish plucked from the water.

“Well, I- It’s uh…I mean- heh -what?” You stumbled. Again, L’s shark skin eyes bore into yours, dissecting every stutter and stammer.

“I believe the question was fairly easy to comprehend.” He said plainly, “I asked if it was the hug you wanted or me.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. 

“I understood the question,” You weakly defended. 

L’s head dropped once again to the side, his hair flopping loosely as he moved but still weighing down over his face. 

“Then answer it.”

You swallowed. He had cornered you, baiting you by insinuating you weren’t as intelligent as he thought and getting you to confess that you in fact were not confused. But in truth, you were. Because it was true that you were extremely touched-starved. You had dedicated the better half of the last year to catching Kira. You hadn’t had time for much else. You weren’t exactly popular before either. 

You were a criminal, a cyber-robinhood. You had stolen from several pharmaceutical companies and redistributed their funds to families in need. You thought it absolutely abhorrent that the companies could make money off of cancer and diabetes, depriving people of medicine they needed, not wanted. You had done it with your best friend, who was killed by Kira.

She had taught you the ropes and how to hide yourself from the authorities. She, however, had crossed the line. She began targeting government officials, leaking their private messages and phone records to the public. You would have thought that would align with Kira’s morals, but you guess not because she died of a heart attack in your arms. You hadn’t made a friend since, not until Ryusaki. 

You didn’t want him to leave you too. You were terrified that he would be ripped away from you, much like your friend before. But it was more than that. You wanted Ryusaki to live. You wanted him to have a full life, one of joy and contentment. One where his intelligence wasn’t weaponised. One where he could let his guard down and not break his back with his posture. You wanted him to drown in hugs, to never be deprived of comfort again. And you wanted to be by his side to see it.

You had become very attached to the man before you. You admired him, respected him. You found yourself trying to be more like him in many ways. And you felt pride every time he mimicked you. 

“I don’t know.”

L was unconvinced, leaning in closer, “Yes, you do. But you won’t say.”

You stared into his eyes, words eluding you. What could you say? You weren’t even sure what you wanted, what your answer would be. He looked at you curiously, awaiting your response. When you had none, he sighed. 

“Fine then,” He said, turning his investigative gaze away from you. “I will escort you to your room. Hopefully, that will satisfy you.”

You had requested a room here at headquarters and were unsurprised when L told you that he had already built one for everyone on the task force. You had all but moved in during the Kira case. You hadn’t meant to, but it was just easier than taking the train alone after a late night of investigating. With no one to stop you, you would stay up until three ante merīdiem, studying and analysing trends. Sometimes you would crash at your desk, but usually, you would drag yourself away when you noticed your eyes becoming heavy. But now, your apartment was more of a formality than anything else. L knew this and made no comments on the matter. He was happy you stayed here instead, and that the rooms weren’t a complete waste of time and effort. 

As you travelled through the silent halls, you brought your blanket tighter around your shoulders, tensing your jaw so your teeth didn’t chatter. Ryusaki seemed unbothered by the cold. He showed no signs of discomfort other than the way his shoulders folded forward more than they usually did. You wondered if he was just suppressing them or if he truly wasn’t cold. But then you saw a small shiver travel down his spine. 

“You never told me,” you said softly, “what you were doing out there?”

His steady pace was unwavering, his bare feet gently padding across the tiled floors of the hall. 

“Thinking,” He replied but offered nothing more. 

“Of course you were thinking, that’s all you know to do. ” You joked, “What were you thinking about?”

He took a few more steps, then stopped. You continued forward until you were standing side by side. He stared ahead, but you turned to face him. You watched as his face remained flat, unchanged. 

“I was thinking about my death,” he said plainly, continuing his previous pace. “I reviewed my mental record of my will, noting necessary amendments. Due to recent events, I felt it something I reconsider.”

Your stomach twisted at his casualness, and you looked away. How could he say that and have no feeling about it? Or rather, rationalize whatever feelings he had about the situation away?

“You-” You began, your words tripping over the lump in your throat, “you shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.”

You said it with finality, though your friend heard the subtle desperation, the fear beneath your bravado. 

He stopped again, and when you turned to him, he turned as well. His eyes seemed almost hollow as he spoke. 

“We all die. And I happen to find myself in a position in which I am taunting the reaper.”

L did a lot of staring, and this one you took as a personal challenge. He knew what you meant, and he was purposefully not addressing it. You weren’t backing down; you weren’t folding for him. The other members of the task force often forgot that he was human; you refused to forget. While he was smarter than anyone you had ever met, he wasn’t a supercomputer. He had hopes and dreams; he had fears. 

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting this game of blink.

You hadn’t realised you had arrived at your room and hesitated at the door. 

“Would you like me to step inside?” He offered. 

You nodded. 

“Very well then.”

He opened the door and you stepped in. He closed the door behind him, then stood a few feet into the room, scratching at his leg with his foot. You made your way to your closet, selecting a new shirt and some sweatpants, then went to your dresser, selecting new undergarments.

L looked to the wall after catching a glimpse of the lacey bra you balanced from your finger. You looked to your friend, ready to ask him to turn around, when you noticed his head already turned and a slight rosy hue crawling up his exposed neck. He was usually so devoid of colour; the splash of pink was a nice touch. You wondered what had flustered him and if it had anything to do with you. The thought made you excited, but you chose not to acknowledge that. 

“I’m changing now,” You said, turning away from him. 

L tried his best to keep his eyes off of you, but soon, your hands were in the air as you peeled off your shirt, and his curiosity won. His eyes traced over the exposed skin, counting the vertebrae up your back. His breath hitched slightly as you reached behind you and unlatched your bra. He caught himself imagining what it would look like if you were turned around and ripped his eyes away again. After all, you were his friend, and it was inappropriate to think such things about a friend. Especially one that trusted him enough to change in front of him. He would rather die than abuse your trust. 

Soon, you were wiggling out of your pants, and his eyes betrayed him, following the movement of your hands. The cotton panties you wore were nothing special, plain and purple and a bit cheeky. It clung to the shape of your ass beautifully. His eyes bugged involuntarily, and he decided he could no longer trust himself to be facing you and turned his body. 

As he faced the wall, he considered your interactions today. You had sought him out and then joined him outside despite knowing the discomfort the cold would bring you. Meaning you valued his amusement more than your comfort. You entertained his tangents and encouraged him to try new things, which meant that his general well-being must be something of importance to you. Why else would you go out of your way to protect it?

Yes, you wanted him to be happy and made that a responsibility of your own. You coached him through a new experience and reassured his insecurities about it. He had hugged you for two minutes and thirty seconds, but you had held him for two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. So you enjoyed the physical comfort, and obviously desired more, as you only stopped when he shocked you. 

That’s right, you pulled away when he asked if you "wanted him." So enjoying his company was fine, but once "wanting" became a part of the equation, you rejected it. Or tried your best to. But you didn’t deny that you still desired his presence, allowing him to escort you to your room, where you took off your clothes in front of him. 

When he looked at the incidents individually, it could all be chalked up to you being a good friend– one who trusted and respected him –but he was a better detective than that. He also knew to look at the big picture. In his mind, he replaced himself with other people, like puppets in a play, and saw how your reactions changed.

He found it hard to believe that you would allow someone else on the team to hold you for two minutes, lure you into the rain, or risk them seeing you in your underwear. Which begged the question, why do you treat him differently? How does your perception of him differ from the others?

Then it became abundantly clear, and he was shocked. The conclusion he came to seemed ludicrous, and yet, it was the only one that made sense-- the only one that stood with the evidence. How could this be? There was only one way to know. 

He called your name and you hummed in response, putting on a new shirt and turning to face him. 

“You evaded my question.” He remarked, still looking at the wall. “However, I think your evasion– and the several events surrounding it –has given me a more clear understanding of the answer you were guarding.”

You felt a general unease, not sure you liked the direction his inquisitive mind was heading. You wrung your hands anxiously in front of you, looking at the back of his head. You should have known L wouldn’t let that go. 

“I told you I didn’t know.”

He turned quickly, catching you off guard. He was once again very close to you, his eyes dancing with curiosity and a bit of pride. It was a look you saw when he presented a theory based on new evidence he had finally made sense of that had previously baffled the team. You knew he was confident in whatever he had deduced and was more amused by your responses, watching carefully with a thumb pressed to his lip just a few inches away from your face. 

“But I don’t think it was the complete truth,” he pressed, “which makes it a lie of omission.”

“I didn’t lie,” You quickly defended. 

“But I saw it: a realisation flitting across your face. You looked at the evidence and came to a conclusion. You have some idea as to why you reacted to my question the way you did, and you have an answer. Does the answer put you in a position of vulnerability perhaps?”

You gaped at him, unsure how to respond. However, he continued to think aloud, answering your question for you with his own ramblings. 

“Yes, that must be it. In answering whether you merely wanted more affection or me, it would force you to admit that you had a need that wasn’t being met. And since we had already discussed our general lack of affection in day-to-day life, revealing that you felt you wanted more hugs would not make you uncomfortable… no, it has to be me that you want. That’s the only reason you would react that way. Which makes me wonder, in what way do you want me?

“My phrasing may have impacted your response, as ‘want’ can mean different things in certain contexts. However, if you thought of me in a strictly platonic sense, you would not have assumed I meant anything more than my company. There is, of course, the possibility that previous interactions in male friendships lead you to believe I meant something else, but I think it is more likely that you interpreted it romantically because you have– on some level –romantic feelings for me. And by answering the question honestly, you would have revealed that.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I right?”

Your brain was spinning, repeating every word he had said. He waited patiently as you mulled it over. You tried to disprove his theory, picking each line and defending the opposite, but it became harder and harder the longer you went on. You weren’t sure how you saw the man in front of you. He was your friend, someone you respected and cared for. You valued his opinion and you listened to his advice. But you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive. You had since you first met him. 

After your friend had died, it didn’t take you long to piece together that it was Kira who killed her. You brought your theory to the police, but they didn’t take you seriously. Apparently, there had been many false reports of Kira's murders, and yours was the fifteenth report that day. You continued to argue, but you didn’t even get past the front desk. That night, when you got back home, you decided you would do everything you could to catch the killer. You broke into the police database– which was entirely too easy –then followed up with everyone they suspected. You used your skills to hack into the suspects' computers, scouring through their histories and files, but didn’t find anything incriminating. Except for one man. 

He was too innocent, not even a record of porn on his computer. Most of his search results were quiz questions with brief breaks spent streaming funny videos. He was a studious pupil and the son of a cop. You consulted the police’s notes often and were surprised when they claimed it could be a student. Then soon after, the pattern of killings changed, further proving the theory.

You were convinced it was Light Yagami, but you needed more. So you tried to hack into L’s computer. You knew from the police notes of the meetings that L called in using a computer, meaning he had to have a Wi-Fi connection to talk to them in real time. It took you a while to hack the secure connection, and even longer to get into the computer. You felt defeated– outsmarted –when you realised the only thing on the device was whatever system he used for the calls and whatever connection he used for that was heavily encrypted. 

You thought nothing more of the event until you were picked up off the street a few weeks later. You were grabbed and bound, the assailant immediately gagging and blindfolding you. The drive was long, and you were taken somewhere with winding hallways and cold rooms. You were restrained to a table, straps keeping you upright, and then your gag was removed. 

You yelled in anger, cursing your capture and illustrating all the ways in which you would make them suffer for treating you this way. You only stopped when a robotic voice filled the room. It asked who you were, but you ignored its question, connecting the dots. 

“You’re L,” You said plainly, “The renowned detective. You’ve solved every case you’ve ever taken on. And you apprehended me– confining me and taking away my vision –meaning you must think I’m Kira. You know who I am, that’s why you’ve taken me in.”

He confirmed your suspicions and listed out the crimes you had committed, and your behaviours that made him suspect you. You couldn’t deny his deductions, and instead of trying to prove your innocence, you told him about your own mission to catch Kira. You even apologised for trying to hack him as well, “but you understand, I had to try.”

He kept you tied up for a few, very long days, then let you walk around the room, giving you access to a bed and a few books. Now and then he would check in on you and offered to make amends for the misunderstanding. You only requested that he hear you out. 

You told him about your theories and how you were disregarded by the police. He was the first person to tell you that he believed your friend was murdered and that it had more to do with them talking out against Kira online than the crimes they had committed. And that only angered you more.

Soon, he began to trust you. He showed you his face. He was nothing like you imagined, but everything you expected. He was odd; he looked almost sickly and was very deadpan. But he had a sense of humour, one that was just as odd as him. He was straightforward forward, and you didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking, as he often shared his thoughts. He was kind, having an obvious affinity for sweets, but always willing to share with you. He asked about you and your life, and you could tell he was cataloguing everything you had to say. He listened so intently when you spoke. 

You only grew closer, looking forward to your meetings in the following weeks, and were elated when he told you about the new headquarters and how he wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. He was impressed by your resourcefulness and intellect, but more importantly your passion. You were driven by revenge, but soon that changed. L believed in you, and you wanted to honour that. 

Despite his quarks, you saw his soft underside, and it drew you in more. He was fascinating to you, alluring. 

Was that normal for a friend? To simply see them and feel better, to seek out their company? Yeah, you guess it was, but you didn’t think it was as normal to think your friend is pretty. Friends don’t trace jaw lines or let their eyes linger on outstretched fingers and moving lips. Is that what you were feeling? Was your confusion and nervousness a result of an unrealised crush on your friend?

“Oh, I see,” Ryusaki mumbled, “It wasn’t an intentional lie; you only just now realised.”

You hated that he could read you as well as he could, and suddenly his proximity was suffocating. You stepped back, hiding from his gaze in your hands. It was bad enough that you had feelings for your best and only friend, but to come to that realisation in front of them –when they have the uncanny ability to practically read minds –was mortifying. You were cornered and unsure what to say. You didn’t even have time to consider what you wanted to do about your feelings before they were made known. 

You could try to deny it, but you didn’t think that would work. Not against L. So you decided to look deeper. You had pieced together how your interactions proved you liked him, but how did L fare? You compared his behaviour towards you to the others. He was kinder with you, often wording things gentler to you than he would care to for anyone else. He provided confections to everyone, but he only offered you bites from his plate. He was more candid about his feelings with you, as well as his thoughts. 

While he often toyed with the investigators, constantly testing their deductive reasoning and loyalty, L only asked what you thought to question his own conclusions. He valued your input more than others on the team, and you knew the task force was aware of that. if you were in the room, Ryusaki was always within arms reach. He never strayed far. He asked about your personal life, and he encouraged you to take breaks. He smiled and laughed around you, something you didn’t see in front of the others. You had seen L’s soft side, but only because he had shown it to you. He was vulnerable with you. But was that just friendship?

No, no there was more. Today, he cared for you, feeding you and treating you to a picnic. He apologised for your condition, completely disregarding his own. He did his best to atone for the wrong he felt he had done, going as far as to wrap you in his own warmth. He didn’t need to. He sought out the contact. Contact he didn’t look for elsewhere. Contacted he requested and asked for more of, in a less than graceful way. Tripping over words was out of character for the normally articulate detective. 

He then stayed by your side, escorting you to your room, again, disregarding the fact that he too was cold and rained on. Furthermore, any other friend would have turned away from you while you changed, but he faced you. You remembered the blush on his face before you changed. Either the idea of you undressing or something he saw you were changing into caused that response. You had difficulty believing this came from a general lack of experience with women. 

If Misa changed in front of him (which is an unavoidable event which has already happened with her room being monitored the way it is), you doubted he would have much of a reaction. Yes, you were sure. His flustered state was a result of you. 

You removed your hands from your face and looked at the man of your affection. He wore a curious look, and you smiled. 

“You’re not upset,” he observed, “Usually, people respond badly to my blunt deductions about their emotions. I expected you to yell or deny, but you’ve done neither.”

You chuckled lightly, “I don’t think there’s a way I could have denied that without further confirming your conclusion.”

“Well, your initial response of hiding from me was sufficient.” he said with a bit of smugness, “But I’m curious as to why you no longer feel the need to.”

“I don’t need to hide my feelings if you already know they exist,” you stated calmly, “And I’m sixty-seven percent sure you share my feelings, making them much less frightening.”

Rysuaki’s hidden eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. You watched smugly as he said nothing, revelling in the pride of shocking even the great L.

You explained how you reached that conclusion, knowing that would be his first question. When you finished, he looked up to the ceiling, reevaluating the evidence. You watched as his careful mind picked apart your deduction and this time you allowed yourself to appreciate his unique beauty.

You traced the slope of his nose, following it down to the tendons in his neck and where his collar bones poked out from his baggy sweater. You greedily observed the way his clothes hung from his body, nearly swallowing him whole. 

“It is true, I am rather fond of you. I made that more obvious than I intended, however, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He admitted, “I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a love life or much experience with romantic feelings. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he crossed the room to join you. To your surprise, he sat with his feet on the floor, hands on his thighs. 

“I think this a good place to start,” you said warmly. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet.”

He nodded but didn’t look at you. You could see the gears churning in his head, then you noticed his hands. There were impressions left in his thighs from his strong grip. Was it possible he was nervous? You couldn’t hide the delight the sight brought you. You thought it was adorable that you were something that could cause him so much grief. But you hated it too. 

You placed your hand on his and he tensed slightly, but didn’t push it away. 

“Hey,” you said softly, “Take a breath. Really, I don’t want you to stress over this. You have enough on your plate.”

He looked at your hand, his face level, silently assessing, and you allowed him the space to do so. His hand twitched a bit under yours before he turned it over, his palm meeting yours and his slender fingers weaving between your digits. 

“What if-” he paused, as if not sure he should say what he was thinking. He took a breath as you instructed, then continued. “What if I want to do something about it?”

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face, and you didn’t feel a need to. 

“Then I would ask what you wanted to do.”

"It's not about what I want." He looked at you, eyes wide and panicked. “What if doing something is stupid and puts you in danger?”

You had never seen L so worked up before, and you were stunned for a moment. You realised he was letting you in, even more than before. He was letting you see his fear, something you're not sure he’s shown anyone willingly. And in this moment, you were reminded that he was just a young man. That his life had barely begun. Yet he had seen horrors you couldn’t imagine. 

“If Light is Kira,” he continued, through gritted teeth. “then you are already endangered enough. But if our relationship is now romantic, he may use you to get to me. He would have no problem killing you if it brought him closer to his goal, and we both know that.”

“Ryusaki…” you tried, rubbing your thumb against the back of his cold, clammy hand. “He already knows I care for you. The others have been teasing me about my favouritism for months now. If he thought I knew anything, or that you would tell me anything, he would have already done it. If he could, he'd probably force me to write your name in the book somehow, so he didn’t have to do it himself.” 

The fire in his eyes fizzled, and now he looked deflated again as if his anger was the only thing giving him the energy to fight. 

“Then, I can’t tell you anything,” he concluded, “and that doesn’t make for a very strong relationship. One of secrecy where I’m forced to keep you at a distance…no that won’t do.”

He let go of your hand, looking away and rising to his feet. You felt that familiar tug in your heart, the one you felt at your desk when you realised he wasn’t beside you, the same feeling when he tried to end the hug. It felt like he was leaving you, and this time, it made you angry.

“Fuck that!” you said a little harsher than you intended. L turned to look at you in surprise; you had never raised your voice to him before (Aside from that time he arrested you and you didn’t know it was him you were cursing). “I refuse to let Kira make any decisions for me. That bastard doesn’t get to stop me from doing anything I want. And I want this, I’ll fight for it.”

You spoke with a vicious resolve, and L had to admit, it was intriguing. 

“I’m done letting him ruin my life. I’m taking charge. I know there’s a way to prove it, to get him to confess. We can do it. We’ll catch that monster and frame his head on the wall.”

L was studying you; you could see it in his analytical eyes. 

“‘Monster’ you say…” he wonders aloud, “There are many types of monsters; the one we face now... he’s a lying monster: He’s cunning, posing as a human, though having no understanding of the human heart. He works hard, but only to appease his own hubris. He seeks friendship even though he does not truly know how to love. I had once said, If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by them... because, in truth, I am that monster.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze resolute.

“Tell me, honestly, how can you hate Kira and care for me? We are the same beast.” His body towered over yours, the shadows of the light obscuring his face under his hair. He was almost intimidating. “I do not fight for justice but my own amusement. How many lives have I disregarded all because I didn’t find the case challenging enough? How many people have I endangered solving this one? I allowed who I believed to be Kira intimate knowledge of the case, all because I thought it made the game more fun. I view people as disposable, just as Kira does, and manipulate them just as freely. Kira and I are cut from the very same cloth. Yet, you despise him and respect me.”

Your stare was hard and unforgiving. Rage shook your body, and L was sure that you had changed your mind. You hated him now, just as you should. 

“No,” You said sternly, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

You carefully lifted his chin, forcing him to hear you. 

“You are flawed, yes. You certainly have an ego, but that doesn’t make you a monster. If you were presented with the power of the death note, you wouldn’t use it to make yourself a god. You don’t always fight fair, but the criminals you chase don’t either, and it would be silly to try for the high road. That is what makes you such a great detective. You do what needs to be done. But that’s not why I care about you.”

You saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he buried it once again. 

“I care for you. Not L, the world’s greatest detective. I care for the man who treats me kindly and listens to my woes. I care for the man who checks in to make sure I’ve eaten and taken breaks. I care for the man who is so terrified of himself, he hides away from the world. I care for the man who was cursed with a brilliant mind and raised in a world of evil. I don’t care that you’re a genius, I’d love you dumb. I’m not interested in what you can do for me. I just want you.”

You watched as the man closed his eyes, unable to face your reverent judgment. 

“You could step away right now, and I’d never think less of you. You could imprison Light, right or wrong, and I would stand by you. You could tell me that you don’t want this, and I wouldn’t fight you.” You moved your hand from his chin to rest against his cheek. “But if you bow down to Kira– admit defeat when your heart is still beating –I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scanned your face, looking for a lie, but found one. 

“We live in a world where gods of death are real,” you continued, “And that knowledge has made me realise even more that nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing other than your own resolve. I chose life, and I wish you would choose the same.”

“You speak as if I am trying to kill myself.” he scrutinised. 

“Since the arrest of Higuchi, you’ve stopped investigating," You pressed, "but we both know it’s not because you think we’ve stopped Kira. There’s still a second notebook- a second Kira. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the change in Yagami, almost as if coming in contact with the book has turned him back into Kira. I see the way he looks at you, the way he studies you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” he confirmed.

“Then why? Why have you stopped trying to catch him? If he is actively trying to catch you– to kill you –and you do nothing to stop it, you are killing yourself. You’re allowing him to win. And I can’t– no, I won’t catch him without you.”

“You wouldn’t avenge me?” He asked curiously. 

“I’m here for my own selfish reasons,” you reminded him, “If you die, then everyone I have left will have been taken by Kira. What motivation would I have left to stop him?”

“I see…” he said flatly, “so if Kira is to be caught, we must both live to see it happen.” 

“Yes, but more so, I would blame you for your death. Avenging you wouldn’t be possible, as you and your killer would be one and the same. I would hate you.”

His hand joined yours, guiding it away from his face and holding it at his side.

“I’m not sure I could rest knowing you hated me. Not when you’re the only person I trust and the only person I can say I’ve ever cared for– besides Watari, of course,” He said softly, “But in all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t control you, and I have no desire to, but allowing you to grow any closer to me is dangerous. And I would hate myself if anything happened to you.”

His fingers traced over the creases in your hand as he spoke, memorising the fate lines. 

“But I can’t deny the attachment I have for you.” he continued, “It clouds my judgement, and I spend valuable time constantly correcting it. I’ve been indulging in delusions of running away with you. Taking you far away from the danger, placing you in a secure palace where you want for nothing, allowing you to lose yourself in all the simple pleasures your poetic mind can conjure. I would rather collect a list of books for your library than face Kira at the moment.”

You felt like crying, his words striking your heart. While it was easy to deduce that he favoured you over the others, such a blatant confession wasn’t something you expected. You knew this fantasy was built in his mind as something to make you happy, but you knew that this was something he wanted as well. To live a life of ease, not as a pawn to world governments. To be free to have intelligence and not be weaponised. You realised then, he was tired. He was exhausted from chasing Kira, exhausted from comparing himself to the enemy. 

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He looked at you curiously. 

“You can afford a break, a real one. Your mind is scattered, and you can’t possibly expect to outsmart Kira if you’re worrying about everything else.” You explained, “I’ll talk to Watari about planning a secure getaway for you but for now…”

You softly grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, “We’re going to your room so you can change. Then we’ll discuss what we’re doing for the night.”

He allowed you to lead him down the hall, saying nothing while you travelled. He only spoke again after you stepped into his room. 

“I am not often surprised,” he marveled “But you continue to amaze me. I can’t predict you. You’re courageous and strong-willed, but always kind. You’re extremely brilliant, but you’re humble about it. But most amazingly, you believe in me– not because of what I’ve done, but because of who I am –and I’ve never met someone who could separate the two.”

You flush under his praise, “You say you can’t predict me, but I swear, you see right through me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with panic in his eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You laughed, the sound affecting L more than he expected. He loved it, loved making you laugh. He wanted to do it as much as possible, but that was something to figure out later. 

“You didn’t,” you reassured, “but I do have something you can do to make it up to me,”

L smirked, knowing you were teasing him. 

“I don’t understand. I didn’t offend, but you claim I need to make amends.”

“You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”

“What is it you would have me do?”

You didn’t answer with words, instead spreading your arms and then making a grabby motion towards him. Your smile was soft, gently pulling at your lips. 

“Yes,” he said sweetly, “I suppose we could both use a boost of oxytocin.”

He took slow steps towards you, and then all at once, his arms were around your waist. He pulled you into him, lifting you slightly off the ground, bringing your neck to his hung head. You felt goosebumps where his nose nuzzled into your skin and your heart grew wings, soaring. You held L just as tightly, indulging in his desperate touch and burying your nose into his silky hair. 

“I think we should revise our previous agreement about hugs.” He said after a moment, speaking into your throat. 

“What amendments would you like to make?”

“I think four hugs a day is fine, but I don’t think we should limit ourselves to that. We do need to make up for our lack of hugs in the past after all. Furthermore,” he lifted his head slowly, so as not to knock you in the nose. He would feel horrible for that. “I think we could add or substitute hugs for other forms of affection as well.”

You hummed, and he continued. 

“For instance, you have held my hand twice today, and both times, I felt a similar sort of comfort from the action. In fact, I’ve noticed any skin-to-skin contact with you eases me. Your hand on my face proved that. I tested this theory twice. Once, before our confessions, on the blanket. I placed my hand on the one you had placed on my shoulder. Then again, in your room, by simply touching your hand, tracing your palm instead of holding it. Both yielded similar results.”

You smiled at him fondly, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. As your nails skated across his scalp in lazy circles, his eyes fluttered a bit, his lids resting heavier. 

“So you would like to add hand-holding? I’m fine with that.”

Your sweet voice flooded his mind, and your hands liberated his composure. 

“Either you’re completely clueless to the effect you have on me,” he whispered, “Or you revel in it. And I’m not sure which is more terrifying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, which startled L for a moment, but then he realised it was because of an emotional response and not an attack from Kira. 

“I wonder the same about you.”

L was unfamiliar with the look in your eyes. Your pupils were dilated, and your irises sparkled in the light. He’s never been looked at like that before. Your face looked brighter, and your body language (while restricted in your current position in his arms) was relaxed; open. And suddenly, he was entranced by your lips. You were talking, and he studied the muscles as they moved, unable to focus on anything else. He felt the urge to kiss you, and this shocked him. He forced himself to pay attention to your words. 

“...besides you have all the power really. I know what I want, but if you don’t want me there’s nothing I can do about it. I could never kill you, but even if Kira forced my hand, I don’t know your name. And you’re the only one on the team who knows mine. Whether I like it or not, my heart is in your hands.”

“I would never hurt you,” he quickly defended, almost offended. 

“I know,” you said simply, “That’s why I trust your hands.”

Your gaze was unwavering, your stance absolute. The emotions L tried to contain began stirring restlessly. He no longer felt like he had a hold on them. A hurricane of feelings he couldn’t quite name tore through his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do but act. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. It was awkward and brief, as neither of you puckered your lips, just touched them together. He kept his watchful eyes wide as he did so, gauging your response. 

“Was that a kiss?” You finally asked once your silent shock was replaced by a highly amused smile. 

A small frown overtook L’s face. “I fear if you had to ask…” 

His sentence trailed off as he sat you back down on the ground. Then turned to walk to his closet. His was much larger than yours (which was ironic given he wore the same clothes for days straight), and you assumed he elected to change there when he closed the door. Now that he was out of sight, you allowed your excitement to show, jumping up and down and shaking your hands. 

He had kissed you, almost. It was obvious that he didn't have the experience, but your heart swelled at the thought that he wanted those experiences with you. And he did kiss you, he held you in his arms, for no other reason than to hold you close.

You tried your best to calm down, but your bright smile would fool no one. Instead, you tried to focus your attention elsewhere, calling Watari. He had given you his number (or a number) months ago. He told you it was because he saw that you cared for his son and that his son trusted you. He also confessed that he was rather fond of you too. He wanted to see you make it out of this investigation. 

He answered almost immediately. 

“Hello, Ms Ogawa,” He was always careful to use your alias, even if he knew you were alone. “I notice that you’re calling from within headquarters, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling because I convinced Ryusaki to take some time off. I need you to plan a trip for him, no shorter than a week but something that’s easily extendable.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line. 

“You convinced him to take a break? I didn’t think anyone was capable; I wonder how you managed.” He seemed amused, implying he knew something through his old man wisdom. 

“I’m not entirely certain I did,” L emerged from the closet, looking nearly identical, just less soggy. You smiled at him as he made his way towards you. “But I’ll be very cross with him if he doesn’t. I think he knows that.”

The man you spoke of raised a single eyebrow as if to say, “Oh really?”

You made a similar face that left no room for argument. 

“I see,” Watari continued, “Shall I book this trip for one or two?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the question. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t have to though as L decided then to grab the phone from your hand, pinching it awkwardly between his fingers. 

“Two,” he replied on your behalf. “We’ll also need a cover so that the others don’t know we’re together.”

“Understood. How soon would you like to leave?”

L returned the phone to you, trusting your decision. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow. We have plans for tonight, and I’d like to rest beforehand.”

“That’s very wise, Ms Ogawa. I’ll send over the itinerary soon.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

You hung up, placing your phone back in your pocket. When you looked up, L’s hand was extended, offering you a sweater. 

“If you intend to go out,” he explained, “You’ll need a sweater.”

You took it gratefully, and he turned his head again, giving you space to change. When you finished pulling the shirt over your head, he looked up and felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He never anticipated that seeing you in his clothes would affect him this way. He was truly smitten by you, and that was something he could no longer deny. 

“Ready?” You asked, disrupting his train of thought. 

He nodded, and you offered him your hand. A small smile spread across his face as he took it. He trusted your hands too, he realised. 

You reached the garage, selecting an inconspicuous sedan for your ventures. L moved to open the door when you stopped him. 

“Wait!” Your heart was in your throat, but you closed your eyes and forced out the words. “My favourite flowers are poppies. I think it’s cool how versatile they are. The moon absolutely amazes me. I understand how its gravitational pull affects our tides, but I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I also really like The Smiths, which raises conflicting feelings in me because I hate Morrison as a person, but man, if he isn’t great as crying into a microphone.”

You heard a soft chuckle and felt a hand reach out to hold your bicep. You took a deep breath, continuing with Ryusaki’s encouragement. 

“I prefer a good milkshake over any other dessert. I think time travel is probably the coolest superpower, but I think it’s too great a power that I wouldn’t trust myself with it. I like cats, but I’ve always wanted a pet raccoon. I don’t think I could get one, morally, but they just look so cute. If I had one, I would love that little guy so much. I would give him a really pretentious name; find a way to grant him Lordship.”

You opened your eyes slowly to see Ryusaki smiling, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. His eyes darted around your face, twinkling in city lights. His heart pounded harder with every word you uttered. Romance was never something he prioritised in his life, it wasn’t something he ever saw happening. Most people were put off by him, and it wasn’t often that he actually met people in his work. He could have lived the rest of his life hiding behind a computer screen, an imperceivable entity known only to one man. But now, he would give anything to stand in the sun with you while you look at him the way you do now. Affection and amnesty dripping from your gaze. 

“I’d like to try and kiss you again,” he said timidly. “If you’d show me how.”

Your smile split your face, feeling overjoyed by his words. Each move you made, he mirrored, hands on cheeks and bodies touching as he matched your steps forward. You jumped up on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Ryusaki’s eyes widened comically, and a hand rose to his lips as if he’d find your kiss there. But soon, his shock dissipated, replaced by a look of hunger. 

This time, he led, dropping a hand to your waist to hold you close and using his other to lift your chin. He moved in so slowly, and your body thrummed with the anticipation of contact. He stopped, his lips barely grazing yours, and you couldn’t hide your desperate tremble when you felt his soft breath against your own. He pressed his puckered lips against yours, and you took no time reciprocating. 

You brought a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him and pulling him closer. You felt like you were flying, your heart beating its feathered wings against your ribcage. You pulled your lips away just to bring them back, and you could feel his confidence growing as he tilted his head and his grip on your waist grew tighter. You began moving your lips against his, testing the waters. The rhythm was awkward at first, but he caught it soon enough. 

His chest was rising and falling quickly against you, and he brought his hands up to hold your face. You lost yourself in his touch, in the way he clung to you. You were being consumed and felt no dire to run from it. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you gasped. 

Your eyelids flutter as your brain caught up to what was happening around you. Ryusaki was no longer kissing you but carefully cataloguing the look on your face in his mind. He was reviewing everything he did and how you reacted to it. He had decided that he loved kissing you, and he wanted you to love it too. He wanted love to be something you associated with him, especially now that he knew his brain was making a similar connection. He knew it was probably too soon to say something like that, but he could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. He had the brightest star in the sky in his palms, and he didn’t intend to let this shooting star fall from his grasp. 

You were seeing sides of L that you never thought you would, ones you never thought to look for. He held you like a precious stone, something sacred. He looked at you like you were a wonder to behold, the eighth wonder of the world. It made it hard to breathe, suffocated by his silent adoration. 

“So, where are we going this evening?” He asked from high above. 

“I don’t know,” you said breathlessly, “but we have all of Tokyo, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

He loved this look on you. The joy in your eyes, the lack of stress in your muscles. Your glee was infectious, and he didn’t mind it. 

“As long as you’re by my side, I think anything would do.”

He testingly laid a kiss on your forehead as he said it, and you felt like you would melt to the floor in a pile of goo. You removed a hand from his neck, resting it on his, and were delighted when he instantly intertwined your fingers. 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Ryu-”

“Lawliet,” He interjected. You tilt your head, confused, and L does his best not to swoon as you rest your head in his hand on your cheek. “My name is Lawliet.”

You break out into a blinding grin, and Lawiet knows then that smile was the sunlight he was meant to bask in. Those were the rays that would light his darkest nights. The beams that would guide him through the intricate maze of life. 

He had found all he needed. A friend who listens to his grief and grievances. One who cares enough to try and understand his mind and soothe it at the same time. Not for her own convenience, but for his betterment; never pushing the boundary of discomfort but bringing thrill to the change. He found a fresh pair of eyes, for when his get dull and tired, to show him the artistry outside of the ghastly monstrosities he and the world bathed in. A person brave enough to show up, even on the bad days. The whole world could fit in his palms when he held you like this. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Lawliet.” you corrected.

L smiled, squeezing your hands three times. You returned the sentiment with a kiss to the hand you held in your own. 

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

I hope you enjoyed the read! Like I said, I don't think I'll do much writing for L, but I really enjoyed this. I hope even if you don't have as much love for this character as I do, you can still get something out of it :))

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 5

Title: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Explanations

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: I'm sorry the prince is dating WHO?

Warnings: PG16, swearing, drinking, pining, angsssttttttttt, Jk has a lot of feelings, and so does Reader. Yuri being Yuri. Adaline being Adaline. TOUCH of fluff.

Word Count: 6,006

Release Date: October 20, 2023, 2:00PM

A/N 1: brain mush. finally out. Thank you for understanding. Already working on 6.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before fall reading week. 

Saturday’s looking so beautiful. Sunny skies and comfortable temperatures. 

It’s 2:30pm on the Wednesday before the Friday you get to see Nel for the first time since August. 

And by god you can’t wait. You’re counting the days, minutes and seconds till he’s in front of you again. 

But it’s also 2:30pm on the Wednesday after you mysteriously woke up in your bed after movie night.  And that thought alone has been in the back of your mind since you opened your eyes Monday morning. 

You’d thought about asking Jungkook what happened, but also didn’t think you could face the mortification if his answer was the one you almost 100% knew it was going to be. Hell, you could already feel the nose dive your stomach would make towards pavement the second you got confirmation. 

So instead, like any other rational person, you shelved it away in the back corner of your brain. Far, far back, hopefully being covered with dirt and cobwebs and lint as the days pass on. 

Though you have a nagging feeling that someone or something keeps dusting—anyways, there are much more important things to be focusing on. 

Currently at the greenhouse cafe, you’re sipping on hot chocolate and painting this week's florals on a canvas almost half the size of you. Perched onto an easel, a bunch of sunflowers is beginning to take shape when your phone dings so many times you're worried someone’s dead. 

Dropping your brush, you scoop it up from its place on the edge of the table, only to see a series of texts from Yuri, and you loose a worried breath.

Her contact name is the same from when you two went to a party the first night of freshman year. While you were sipping from your first and only drink that night, Yuri was sloshed out her mind and slurring her words. And thus, SlurryYuri was born.

She whines every time she sees you still haven’t changed it. You were never going to, of course.

SlurryYuri [2:32pm]: BITCH

Oh, here we go. 

SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHO WENT SOCIAL MEDIA OFFICIAL TODAY SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: BABE ANSWER SlurryYuri [2:33pm]: ANSWER ANSWER ANSWERRRRR SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: YNNNNNNNN

You [2:34pm]: Take a breath why dont you

SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: FINALLY.  SlurryYuri [2:34pm]: By the gods YN…  SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: ANYWAY SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: JUNGKOOK SlurryYuri [2:35pm]: as in PRINCE Jungkook SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: is dating ADALINE. SlurryYuri [2:36pm]: as in #1 ENEMY OF THE STATE EVIL BITCH ADALINE.

You spit out what was left of the hot chocolate in your mouth. 

Thankfully, you had some of your mind about you and managed not to ruin your painting by turning your head…couldn’t say the same for the cafe wall though. Rustic brick now splattered with a lovely, Pollock-esque spray of brown.

Oops.

But Jungkook and…Adaline? That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

He hasn’t mentioned anything about this to you. You speak to him every day, see him almost every day, and nothing? Not a peep? A morsel? A hint? Nothing?

Maybe you two aren’t as close as you thought you were.

To be fair, you didn’t tell him about Nel. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen or heard much from Jungkook since Sunday, which is unusual. He’s normally stuffing your inbox full of messages as the sun rises and sets, yet he’s sent maybe two a day since then.

You thought he was just busy with schoolwork.

Spiraling, you can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been seeing one another. How long he’s kept this little secret—not that it’s any of your business anyway, but he’s always seemed so open with you, with just about everything. So the fact that he kept this from you? What does that say? 

Does he think you’d react like any other girl? That you would scream and cry and mourn and tell him he’s making a mistake, that you’re his true love? Like Adaline would if he weren’t dating her? 

As if! And he knows that.

He knows that…right?

Doesn’t matter. Yes it does. No it doesn’t. 

Ugh! Whatever!

Does he even know who Adaline really is? Or does she put on a mask in front of him too, like she does everyone else. She must because now you wonder how he could even possibly like someone like her, knowing…well her! 

Bitchiness and duchess-ness aside, you and Adaline are incredibly similar, and Jungkook has never had any interest in you whatsoever, thank god. You and Adaline are both fine arts majors, both top of your class, talented, driven. You both work tirelessly for what you want, and don’t let others get in your way to success. Though only one of you will cheat if you have too, morals be damned. You both want your lives to yourself, to make your own path, to be trailblazers in your chosen fields.  

That kind of woman doesn’t seem like Jungkook's type. 

He needs someone who will follow him, and allow him to lead the nation. Someone who is okay submitting to him and his needs for the good of the people and the betterment of the Western Shores. He needs a politically inclined cheerleader, for lack of better phrasing. And that isn’t Adaline at all…or you, if you're still putting yourself in this conversation, which you’re not.  

Also, wasn’t it a rule that princes could only marry princesses? Or was it that nice, genuine people shouldn’t end up with assholes who use and abuse those around them for social status and power? And isn’t that a thing for him too—that he hates when people use him for his name?

So how could he go for her? You can’t fathom a goddamn reason as to why—

Ah…Well.

You can, but you hate it. 

Adaline is beautiful, and while no, not a princess, she does have a title the prince can be seen with in public without ridicule, friend or more than. Someone who wouldn’t be looked at like a charity case or a flavour of the week. Someone who’s used to the media. Adaline doesn’t have to hide from them. Isn’t scared to be seen by them with him. It wouldn’t ruin her future. It’ll only add to i—Wait.

Holy shit.

Adaline comes from one of the most influential families on the Eastern Shores. One with a lot of political power. Like, best friends with the Queen of the Eastern Shores, political power. Though she was only ever graced with sons. Adaline’s probably the closest thing she has to a daughter.

A marriage between Jungkook and Adaline could potentially unify the two sides again. 

Jungkook and Adaline could re-unite the East and West after centuries of war and separation, and current amicable co-existence.

Now that’s a reason he would date her. to become power couple of the century.

The next step in history. 

The whole idea of them makes more and more sense the more you think about it. Adaline, darling of the East marrying the future King of the West. And your stomach curls in on itself. 

Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

And you pray to whatever god or gods there are in this universe that he keeps her away from you and out of your conversations. Jungkook’s relationship isn’t any of your business, nor your interest, but you don’t know how well you’d be able to keep your mouth shut about her if he asks anything. 

You know he likes that you’re honest. That you don’t hide things from him others would just to please him. But at what point do you put that aside to keep the peace in an otherwise very comfortable and still blossoming friendship? At what point does honesty become an obstacle rather than a building block?

You know that if Jungkook ever meets Nel and happens not to like him he would keep his mouth shut, mostly. Hopefully. He may give you a hard time but that’s just him. Jungkook knows your relationship is important to you, that it and Nel, make you happy. He would respect that.

So again, who are you to speak ill of the person he’s chosen for himself? Maybe he knows something you don’t, sees something in her that you haven’t.

Just…Why did it have to be Adaline?

He could have anyone, anyone—on campus, in the West, the East, for the love of god, he could have anyone in the entire ass realm he wants! It’s easy to forget when he speaks with his mouth full, dresses in baggy, comfy clothes, and whines about movie choices, but Jungkook is still Prince of the Western Shores. 

He’s still the most eligible bachelor on the continent.  

Yet somehow he chose the one person you can’t stand to be within 1000 feet of. He chose the one person you never thought he would’ve liked for himself because underneath everything, she is everything he claims to hate. 

He chose Adaline Dupree. 

So yeah, you wonder why he hid it from you. Why he felt like he couldn’t tell you. Sure, you hated her, but he doesn’t know that. Probably.

Maybe his love life is something he keeps private? Everyone has that right, and maybe that’s what he’s used to doing due to his every choice being splashed on every news and media outlet there is. 

You roll your eyes. Merciless vultures. 

So maybe he’s not used to sharing this side of himself with others. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you anything. 

And with all of this chaos now flitting around your brain, you failed to notice the little slice of pain behind your sternum the more they ricochet around up there. You’re hurt. 

You didn’t expect it to hurt. 

Out of everything you could feel about this: confusion, anger, exasperation, annoyance, you don’t feel any of them. You just feel upset that he didn’t come to you about it. Didn’t feel like he could discuss it with you. 

You are the person your friends—old and new—come to talk to. Always have been. You’re the one who has the rational, well thought out advice. The common sense distributor. The one sought out to help, regardless of the situation. 

And you love it. You love that you’re able to help your friends. Love that they trust you with such things. That you’re the person they seek assistance and guidance from. The ear they bounce their thoughts off of. You’ve always been told you have ‘knowledge beyond your years’ as your mother says. You take pride in that. It gives your life that much more meaning. 

So even though you don’t want to, and know you shouldn’t, because it has nothing to do with you and you know that…you’re taking this as somewhat of a personal blow. 

Maybe you’re losing your touch. You hope not.

But, you need to react like you normally would. Like you still hate the prince for how he humiliated Yuri, just like she hates Adaline for you. Solidarity between best friends, even if it’s fake.

Come on YN you got this, you think to yourself.

You [2:40pm]: I almost feel sorry for him. After how he treated you tho? They deserve each other

No they don’t, no they don’t, no they don’t. 

He deserves so much better.

SlurryYuri [2:40pm]: I’m just surprised he went for her tbh SlurryYuri [2:41pm]:  isnt she like a total bitch? To you at least?  SlurryYuri [2:41pm]: like just knowing what I do from the tiny bit of time I spent with him, she doesn’t really seem to be his type

Vindication!

You [2:42pm]: uh yeah, like 100% yes. Shes a rich party girl who doesnt know the word punishment, always gets what she wants, regardless if she works for it or not. And takes it when she especially doesnt deserve it You [2:43pm]: probably explains how she got him 🙄

Vivian pops outside to check in, and takes the couple steps to reach your table, some napkins and a large cup of water in hand.

“Hey! Are you okay? I saw that spit take and one; wow, that was impressive. But two; is everything alright?” she asks, passing you the napkins. The water gets thrown on the wall to wash off the splatter.

You wipe up your chin and remnants of projected hot chocolate on the table.

“Sorry, thank you. Yes, I’m fine,” you lie easily. A little scared of how easy it’s becoming. “I just learned some really shocking news is all. I shouldn’t have read it with a full mouth.”

“Oh! That makes sense. I hope whatever it is turns out fine.” 

“Thanks, me too.” 

You know Vivian means well, but she doesn’t know that that is the very last thing you want. You want Adaline’s corruptive, cutthroat, cruel nature away from Jungkook. 

But is he just Jungkook anymore?  

You’ve spent enough time together to consider him a friend, a close friend even. You’ve grown to care for him, platonically, similar to the way you do Yuri. And the fact that you want Adaline as far away from him as she can get so he doesn't go through whatever shit she’ll inevitably get him wrapped up in, definitely says something.

Adaline loves many things—art, fashion, publicity—but the thing she likes better than anything else? 

Attention.

She thrives on it. The more eyes on her the better. She’s a ‘there’s no such thing as bad press’ type, and you worry what that means for him.

Especially now that she’s taken them public—because you know it was her that did it, he would have never—and she’s going to be the hottest topic in all of the newest news cycles. 

Say they’ve been seeing one another since the beginning of the school year? Just a guess, but a likely correct one—you shiver at the thought. That’s less than seven weeks to get to know one another before camera crews and reporters start breathing down their necks. They’ll ask and comment on everything you thought you might go through at one point. But unlike you, Adaline will face it head on with a smile and win them over. Gladly welcome them with open arms.

Because exactly like Jungkook fears with everyone new, she desires everything a relationship with him would give her. 

Status, fame, power, wealth, brand sponsorships, popularity, jealousy, people wishing they could be her. You couldn’t build a better trap to lure her into if you tried. 

Jungkook is potentially unknowingly feeding her already enormous ego simply by publicly dating her. And it dawns on you that your classes with her are going to become even more insufferable.

Great. 

You don’t even know if she’s going to care that she has him. As wonderful, kind and talented as Jungkook is, you have a very good sense that she’ll be just like rest; happy to receive what he can give her, and not a damn to be given about him.

So now you worry. You worry for him and for his safety and for his feelings.

Because that’s what friends do. 

Right?

“Hey.”

You look up to see Jungkook rounding the back corner to the cafe, backpack slung over a shoulder, mask, hat and hoodie all too familiar. You’d be able to spot him a mile away now, it’s all in his posture and eyes. 

Maybe he should invest in some sunglasses. 

And slouch.

You’re elbows deep in yellow and brown paint from the sunflowers that now fill the canvas in front of you. You’ve been experimenting with texture, oil paint thicker in some places to give off a more 3D effect. Stripes of green carved into the medium by the edge of a long palette knife mimic stems, and fat leaves placed with precision also riddle the cloth. 

As he nears, you try your best not to come off as upset, pissed off or worried when you reply.

“Hey,” you fail miserably, sounding exactly like you’re all kinds of upset, and pissed off, and worried. 

Shit.

Like always, he notices immediately.

“Everything okay?” he’s taking his spot at the table beside you, the one that seats four, having abandoned his original one weeks ago. 

You two both found yourselves here so frequently that over time, he started sitting next to you without asking. Always in the same spots. Always side by side. Him at the closest chair to you, you at the same one you always have.

Sure, you two shared movie nights and fun messages, you talk everyday and pretty much talk about whatever you want. But when it comes to academics, he knows he has to tread water a little differently around you. He can’t constantly start conversations the way he would at movie night when you’re at the greenhouse cafe. You’re here to work and to study, and if he wants to be there too, he has to respect that about you, and know not to take it personally. 

So you work together in comfortable silence most of the time, occasionally breaking it to have a conversation, get snacks, or pose for one another’s homework. It’s become another routine you share, an unspoken agreement that when you were both there at the same time, you worked together. 

And you haven’t minded since that first time. The one when you decided to say yes to your friendship. 

You welcome it. Welcome him. His presence. 

Company’s nice to have when it’s wanted. 

When it’s him.

And whether you know it or not, you seem to work better when you are in each other's immediate orbit. You work better when he works alongside you, able to focus better due to body doubling and  to have a second opinion at the ready when you need it. Just like he worked better when you worked alongside him, a willing model any time he needed, and an open ear when he wanted to work something out.  

You two just work. And because of this, he also picks up when something isn’t quite right with the atmosphere you two have created. 

Play it off YN.

“Yeah, just focused. Sorry.”

He doesn’t believe you for a second. When you focus you have a very distinct look on your face, eyes clearer, an eyebrow constantly quirked in self reflection, and that isn’t the one you have on right now. 

But he lets it slide. For now. Somethings up with you, and he knows better than to push you before you’re ready.

“That’s okay. I’m running in, need anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you go back to painting, barely acknowledging him and shutting out the outside world. 

Yeah, something’s definitely up.

You’re ignoring him so hard you don’t notice Jungkook lifting your hot chocolate just enough to feel it’s empty. 

Vivian’s behind the counter as he enters and takes off his mask to flash her a wide smile.

“Hey Vivian, how are you today?”

She blushes like she does every time he comes in, hands slowing in their task. 

“Hey JK, I’m good. You?” He had to ask her about a hundred times to drop the ‘your highnesses,’ ‘you majesty’s,’ and ‘prince’s.’ Telling her it really was okay, and that no, she wasn’t going to get in trouble for it. It took her some time, but eventually she came around and it’s made his experience here so much better. So much more normal.

She’d settled on JK because ‘it makes me feel like I’m listening to what you want while also not feeling guilty and weird about calling you Jungkook without the prince part.’

He could work with that logic.

“I’m alright, could I get my usual and a hot chocolate for YN? With a little extra secret ingredient if you're so inclined?” You shared the not so secret stash secret with Jungkook about a week after you said yes.  “She seems upset. Have you noticed anything off lately? Has she said anything to you?”

Jungkook peruses the pastry display while Vivian starts on his drink.

“Not really, she did a wicked spit take earlier about some news her friend told her, but said she was fine, just surprised. Besides that, focused maybe? Or maybe the opposite of that and a little distracted?” She thinks for a second. “Does she have an exam coming up that you know about? She gets a little weird before those.”

He knows exactly what’s meant by that. Witnessed it himself, bunny slippers and all.

But no, you don’t. Your midterms aren’t until the first week of November, nearly two weeks away. You started studying for them last week.

He spots egg tarts in the back corner of the pastry display, hiding. Perfect.

“I don’t think that’s it, but thanks though. I’ll get it out of her eventually, especially if I have one of those egg tarts to butter her up first,” he says in a questioning tone to ask for one while pointing at them.

Vivian smiles a knowing smile. He wants to know what it means because she’s worn it around him for a while now, and he’s half tempted to ask at this point. 

“I think that could be arranged.”

Jungkook pays and heads to your tables again. You’re still locked into your own world of colour and canvas. He subtly sets down the hot chocolate and bagged tart so that you won’t notice until you pop the bubble you’re in.

Halfway through a business assignment he hears your surprise. The weird look on your face finally breaking, a grateful one taking its place as you peek at him.

A soft, genuine, “thank you,” finds his ears as your lips meet lid, and you can’t meet his eye. He knows you often forget to drink or eat when you’re in the zone. 

Maybe now with a warm drink and some goodies in your belly, you’re willing to talk about it.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks again.

Your deep sigh and unfocused gaze says enough to him. 

You are willing to talk.

Quietly, almost ashamed sounding, you ask, “Why didn't you tell me about her?”

Her? 

Oh.

Oh… 

You meant Adaline. Why hadn’t he told you about Adaline. 

“Why did I find out an hour ago from Yuri screaming at me through text messages and not from you? Is it something you’re private about? Do you not trust me?”

The truth was that he was hoping to keep it under wraps for a bit longer, actually, hoping you never found out so he wouldn’t have to explain the reason why. 

He still doesn’t have too, and he won’t. Not the real reason.

He won’t ruin things. He can’t.

But he also should have known better. Should have known that not telling you would hurt you instead. Of course he trusted you.

You talk everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes just to check in. You hang out during the week, whether it be at the cafe like you are right now, or for Sunday movie night. 

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it was plenty when he thinks about how much time you two have already spent together, how much you’ve gotten to know one another. 

How comfortable you are in each other’s presence. 

Six weeks isn’t a long time, but it feels like you’ve always been there with him, listening, cheering, supporting.

Six weeks isn't a long time, and yet it feels like it’s been forever.

Of course you’re hurt he didn’t tell you. So he doesn’t lie to you, but he also doesn’t tell you the full truth.

“Oh…uh, that.” He rubs a hand at the nape of his neck. “That just kind of happened recently actually, like Monday recently. My father’s been really pressuring me to find someone to court,” and I couldn’t go with my first choice. “So I did.”

“And you went with Adaline?” You ask carefully.

“Uh, yeah? Is there something wrong with her?”

Adaline isn’t his first, second or tenth choice. She's his father’s choice. Might as well appease him and at least try with this girl. It’s going…fine, so far. 

Adaline wanted to make it social media official as soon as possible, wanted what he could give her, like everyone else. Like he expected. And so he willingly suffered through a photo session where she staged everything to make it look perfectly unposed and natural. Even though none of it was. 

She’d told him to put his arms around her waist and kiss her forehead, and it worked. The picture wasn’t bad, they both looked great. But he hated it anyway. It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, or sincere. It wasn’t a picture of two fools drunk on love, wanting to capture something beautiful for their future selves to look back on to reminisce over.

It was an uncomfortable hour and a half of touching and kissing a complete stranger, and it is the complete opposite of what he wants in a relationship. 

He wants genuine and carefree and candid. He wants honest, true feelings and social media posts saved for anniversaries and birthdays instead of using them as a mini documentary of every part of his life through pictures. 

He wants shitty birthday cakes made from scratch, and blurry polaroid pictures of kisses in the rain to put in his wallet when he’s away from them. He wants silly nicknames and inside jokes no one else will understand. 

He wants midnight walks hand in hand under moonlight and quirky habits he picks up from them. He wants pictures of precious moments and holidays celebrated between just the two of you and movie nights under blanket forts with popcorn and hot chocolate and egg tarts. 

He wants real.

He wants authentic. 

He wants love.

Not some staged artificial bullshit for an online presence that means nothing once you’re dead. 

But this is new and exciting for Adaline. He understands that a relationship with him is a very big deal, that she’s not used to it yet, and that it hasn’t been nearly long enough for him to see the true her yet. 

It’s only been 44 hours. Not that he’s counting.

So he’s going to give her some time, and have some faith that maybe she shows him that side of herself if it exists. He doesn't think she's going to change all that much for several reasons, the first being her enormous reputation, and the second being that she’s a politician's daughter, but he’s going to at least try. The way he hopes she will.

And if nothing does change, and she stays the exact same, at least she’s pretty enough to distract him. 

He knows that’s not the most mature or princely thing to do or think. In fact, he knows it’s quite asshole-ish of him, but if Adaline’s going to openly use him for her own personal gain, why shouldn’t he be able to use her just a little bit too? 

She isn’t unfamiliar with political relationships, having been born from one, so he doesn’t think she would be against it either. And it’s not like he’ll be mistreating her, quite the opposite in fact.

He’ll shower her with expensive gifts and happily take however many pictures she wants. He’ll smother her in physical affection and get or do whatever she needs in order to make her happy. 

Because as much as she clearly wants this relationship with him for whatever reason, he desperately needs it more with every passing day. He needs somewhere to put everything he’s feeling. And if that happens to be in a beautiful woman his father approves of who he could possibly, eventually grow feelings for? It’s a win-win in his book.

But at the same time, sometimes he really hates the shit he has to navigate in his Royal Life.

While Jungkook is caught in his thought spiral, you bite your tongue. Like actually bite your tongue. 

Don’t say shit Y/N. 

Don't say anything.

It’s not your business. What they have together and what’s between you and Adaline are completely separate, unrelated things. One’s a rivalry and one's a relationship. Those are not the same. 

At. All. 

So, still untrusting of your mouth, you shake your head and dodge his question by changing the direction of the conversation.

“Why did you go public so quickly?” you ask, feeling like it’s the safest question you can muster. “It’s literally only been two days.”

He shrugs. “She wanted to, and I didn’t say no.”

“Courseshedid,” you mutter under your breath. That should’ve been red flag number one. Two days? Who goes social media official after two days!?

“What?”

“Nothing,” you try your best to give him the closest thing to a smile you can currently muster, forcibly removing any acid from every word. “I hope she makes you happy.”

He doesn’t tell you she was hand picked by the king for him.

That at twenty-four, he still isn’t pulling all of his own strings. It’s pathetic.

“Me too.” 

He hopes she’ll help more than anything. Even if it’s just for a little while. “I’ve never been in a public relationship before. But the kingdom and my father seem to like her, so I’m sure I will too, with time.” 

It takes all of your focus not to roll your eyes.

Of course they do. Of course the King already likes her, she’s got the attitude and knowledge for politics, so she’s perfect! Strong potential to be the heartless, ruthless Queen to what you already know will be Jungkook's kind and giving King. 

Great! Just great. That’s just…great…

Maybe you’re biased. Maybe there’s something in her that you can’t see because of your past with her. 

Maybe they really are perfect for one another and you just refuse to see it. Opposites attract, isn’t that what they say? Well Jungkook and Adaline couldn’t be more opposite of one another.

So you decide that you won’t let your personal feelings get in the way. That you’ll keep the peace and support his choice, regardless of your opinion of her, even if you hate his choice. 

And you really hate his choice.

“I have no doubt.”

The seat heater in the car you rented to pick Nel up from the airport keeps your tush toasty while you drive. 

Friday night has never felt so exciting!

You can barely sit still, the leg not pressing the pedals won’t stop bouncing and you have to sit on your hands at stop lights to try and keep calm.

God you missed him, it's only been two months since you last saw him, and yet it feels like forever. 

You have the piece of printer paper with ‘Smoosh’ printed on it in the biggest font you could have horizontally. It’s something you do every year, and every year it never fails to bring the biggest smile to Nel’s face when you wave it wildly the second you see him.

Pulling up to the terminal you keep your eyes peeled for the first parking spot you can find. Never an easy feat at this particular airport but you manage to find one somewhere in the J lot under section 1, whatever that meant. All you care about right now is that you’re decently close to the doors as you grab your phone, bag, sign, and that you’re perfectly on time.

Entering through sliding doors, you find the waiting area mostly empty, so you pick the best place to sit as you wait for his flight to land: dead center and up front. 

You can’t wait. Just a few more minutes and you’ll see him. 

You can’t wait. You can’t wait. You can't wait!

Your phone dings and you jump at it, looking for the ‘I’ve landed’ text from Nel, but it’s not from Nel.

It’s from Jungkook.

Me [10:42pm]: See you in a week. I hope you enjoy your time with Nel.

That sounds okay, right? It sounds neutral? Safe?

Like he hasn’t been dreading this week since that day you told him about it?

Jungkook hopes so. Because he wants you to enjoy your week off.

Your week off with Nel. 

And not him. 

That’s normal, he has to remind himself. That he’s not anyone particularly special to you, just a friend. Not someone you would go out of your way for to spend all your free time with over break. Not even for two hours on Sunday nights.

Just a regular, average, nothing important about him…

Friend. 

He doesn’t want to feel like this. Doesn’t want to have all of these… whatever these feelings are, about and for you.

He really doesn’t want to. But more than that, he can’t. 

He can’t have any sort of non-platonic feelings for the first person who didn’t give a shit about who he was. For the person who makes him feel more like himself than anyone else. 

For the person who has a boyfriend. 

For the person who isn’t his girlfriend.

For the person who’s you.

But he can’t fucking help it!

So he’s been shoving them down, down, down. So far down that he’s able to function around you. 

Because it’s you. 

You’re kind, and caring. Talented, beautiful, giving. Driven, smart. You respect what he asks for and what he wants for himself, not because he's the Prince demanding, but because it's him—because it’s Jungkook—that asks you, and you liste–

No! Stop it. He can’t. He can’t!

Stop, stop, stop—

You have Nel! 5 years in, loving, loyal boyfriend, probably soon to be more after graduation, Nel.

It’s expected that you would spend what little time off you have with the boyfriend you barely get to see, wouldn’t it? Makes sense that every second you have, is saved for him? 

For being happy with who makes you happy? 

Jungkook wants to see you happy. And Nel makes you happier than he’s ever seen you before, so he can’t be too upset with the guy, even though he wants to be. He wants to hate him. But how could he hate someone that gave you the smile that completely shatters his heart. 

Picasso [10:43pm]: Thanks! I will. See you soon😊

With a broken smile, he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket.

He’s up against a wall, red cup in his hand filled with something that he’s barely touched yet, trying not to be too noticeable.

Adaline’s dragged him to some party on campus he really doesn't care about. But she said it would be good to be seen out together now that things are official. 

Out in the open, for everyone to see. For everyone to talk about.

So he went, because she asked him to. 

And now he’s regretting it. The music is shit, the people smell and everything he touches is damp or sweaty. This isn’t a part of the university experience he ever intended on participating in, but here he is. 

Adaline appears from the crowd, walking over to where he stands, a cup of her own in one hand and the other finding its way to his neck. 

One thing Jungkook’s glad for is the alcohol. Something to help his racing thoughts, pounding heart, and roiling gut. Something to drown out the world. Even if he’s only had two gulps so far. 

More, then. 

Taking a hefty swig he revels in the burn that crawls down his throat. It feels good, it makes him feel less. So he takes another one and another, and then pours his turmoiled feelings about you and Nel into Adaline’s lips. Shoving them down, further and further, until it’s like they were never even there in the first place.

The only thing that's there now is the fire in his stomach, Adaline, and her cherry flavoured lip gloss.

Chapter Six: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

A/N 2: I'm so sorry this took for literal ever. I never intend on taking forever but unfortunately real life gets in the way and I'm left with no creative energy to output writing I'm proud of.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[pengujoon]

LITTLE EXTRA LOVE

cont. gojo x reader, fluff, more fluff. surprise gone wrong (or did it?), they’re both super hopeless romantics for each other urgh, they kiss at the end. implied living together!au, intentional lowercase

a/n. ugh i need someone to love me rn 

the charming flower shop nestled in the heart of the bustling city was a haven of colors and scents waiting to be explored. as gojo satoru approached, he reached out and gently pushed open the door.

the melodious chime of a small brass bell, hanging just above the door, greeted him with a delicate jingling, as if announcing his arrival to a world of blooms and beauty.

inside the shop, gojo's cerulean blue eye, like the clearest of skies, sparkled with anticipation as he took in the captivating sight of flowers in every imaginable hue. their fragrances intertwined in the air, creating an intoxicating bouquet that teased his senses.

the florist, a knowing smile playing on her lips, greeted him warmly. “good afternoon! what brings you here today?”

gojo winked playfully, leaning in closer. “i’m on a mission to find the most beautiful bouquet. it's a surprise for someone special.”

she chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling. “i see. well, you've come to the right place."

as gojo scanned the myriad of blooms, each one vying for his attention, he couldn't help but confide in the florist. “you know, i want it to be a surprise, a moment she'll never forget.”

the florist nodded in understanding. “how about this one? it's a vibrant mix of sunflowers, roses, and lilies — a bouquet that speaks of love, warmth, and passion.”

gojo's eyes lit up as he examined the bouquet. “perfect, wrap it up!”

as he held the bouquet in his hands, gojo's heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and love. he couldn't help but imagine the way your eyes would light up, the surprise and joy that would dance across your face when you received this unexpected gift. it was a small gesture, yet it carried the weight of his affection, a message of love he longed to convey.

the bouquet was wrapped with meticulous care, its vibrant colors and delicate fragrance preserved for the moment of revelation. gojo's heart danced with anticipation as he made his way to your apartment.

standing before your door, he took a deep breath, gathering his courage. his pulse quickened with every second that ticked by as he rang the doorbell, the sound echoing in the hallway, each chime a note in the symphony of his heart.

the door finally swung open, revealing your radiant presence, bathed in the soft glow of your apartment. the suspense hung in the air, an unspoken question of what lay behind those beautiful eyes of yours.

but before gojo could utter a word, he noticed the bouquet you held in your own hands — a beautiful assortment of flowers that mirrored the ones he had chosen. it was a twist of fate, a delightful surprise that neither of you could have anticipated.

surprise painted your features, and your eyes met his, wide with amazement. it was a moment of delightful synchrony, two hearts thinking of the same beautiful surprise.

gojo couldn't help but smirk, his voice filled with playful charm. “well, well, it seems we're on the same wavelength, my love.”

your laughter, like the sweetest melody, joined his. you stepped closer, a soft blush gracing your cheeks as you admitted, “i guess so.”

as you both stood there, surrounded by the fragrance of flowers and the warmth of each other's presence, gojo couldn't resist teasing you further. “so, what's the occasion? did i miss something important?”

you rolled your eyes, a playful glint in them. “no, no, it's not an anniversary or anything like that. i just thought you could use a little extra love today.”

gojo's smirk softened into a genuine smile. “well, you certainly know how to make a guy feel special. you know, i was planning to make this evening special too,” he chuckled.

gojo's hand found its way to the small of your back, his touch gentle yet possessive. his eyes, the color of a deep, endless ocean, held an intensity that spoke volumes of his affection. In the quiet of the evening, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you to bask in the glow of your love.

he leaned in slowly, his lips drawing nearer to yours. every moment felt like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed to savor this exquisite connection between your hearts. your eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, the world around you melting into a blur of colors and sensations.

then, as his lips met yours, it was as if the universe itself held its breath. the kiss was a gentle exploration, a soft and lingering promise of love and devotion. his lips were warm and velvety against yours, moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm of your heartbeats.

there was no rush, no urgency — only a profound, wordless exchange of emotions. it was a kiss that spoke of trust, of a deep and abiding connection that transcended the physical. in that moment, you were enveloped in a cocoon of tenderness, a sanctuary of love that existed solely for the two of you.

you opened your eyes to meet his, finding within them a reflection of the profound love that had blossomed between you. as your gazed locked, gojo's hand gently rested on your waist, pulling you closer to him. with a soft smile, gojo whispered words of affection that hung in the air like the sweetest melody, a promise of an enduring love that would forever light the path of your shared journey.

went out with my best friend a few days ago to celebrate his birthday! when I saw people buying flowers for their partners I knew I had to write this story

funfact did you know I forgot to attend my graduation yesterday and instead I started bungou stray dogs ㅠㅠ

[hwanchaesong]

┗🖋️ A once in a blue moon chance / Sculpts a rose and violet romance / In an ivory and rings trance / Comes a tragic wound by lance 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift - loml

wc: 1.3k

genre & warnings: angst, angst, angst 😭 itty bitty fluff if you use a microscope, character death (due to sickness), ghost!Sunoo, just pure angst for real, read at your own risk 😭

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

You warm your hands on the freshly brewed cup of coffee that you ordered, lifting it up and taking a sip, not minding the burn on your tongue.

"This is delicious." you say, the man in front of you grinning in return, "We should've come here sooner, Sunoo."

"Right!? I told you this place is a banger." he proudly crosses his arms on his chest, a smirk on his bright face.

You sigh, finishing the drink and standing up from your seat, "Oh crap, it's time to go." you murmur, hastily walking away after cleaning up the table.

"Already?" Sunoo jumped up from his own seat, begrudgingly following you down the pavement.

"Slow down! Gosh, are you doing a marathon or something?" he rolls his eyes, finally catching up to you without breaking a sweat.

Naturally, he has longer legs than you, he was simply caught off guard by your sudden departure from the café.

"I really don't want to be late this time." you peered at your watch, clicking your tongue in dismay.

"You really should manage your time properly." Sunoo comments, looking at your annoyed face.

"Yeah," you muttered, turning around the corner and stopping in front of a flower shop, "I should really manage my time better."

You enter the establishment, greeting the florist and inspecting the fresh cuts of flowers.

"What should I get?" you put a hand under your chin, in a deep thought on what to buy for today's celebration.

Sunoo peeked from behind you, staring at the flowers as well, "Why not get sunflowers? Look! Aren't they especially pretty today?" he excitedly points at them and you nod your head.

"Sunflowers are a great choice." you smile, waving at the florist to tell him your pick.

The dimpled man walks over to you and begins to arrange the flowers into a bouquet, "What's the occasion for today, ma'am?" he asks, and you giggle a bit at his playful tone, making the man beside you pout in discontent.

You're not planning on flirting with that florist within his presence, right?

"A birthday, and these sunflowers are the perfect gift for him."

You smile lovingly at the flowers when the florist hands you the bouquet, and when you're about to pay for it, the male did not accept your money.

"Flowers on me for today, now go." he waves you off and you frown, thinking that if you did not pay, it'll be unfair for the worker.

"But-"

"No buts!" he puts his index finger on his lips, sending you a wink, "Consider that as a gift from me as well."

You beamed at the man, poking his dimples and proceeding to pinch the cheek of the florist that you have grown accustomed to after a few months of meeting him at the shop.

"Thank you so much, Jungwon!"

You bid him goodbye, exiting the store in a haste, missing the giddy and beaming expression of the boy, one that Sunoo noticed.

"Oh my god! He totally likes you!" he whispers aggressively, "Must you flirt with him too?!"

You bite your lower lip, shaking your head lightly, "No, no. Jungwon is a friend. Nothing more, nothing less."

Sunoo squinted his eyes at you, skeptical but he lets it go.. for now.

He continued following you throughout your journey somewhere, basking in the melodious silence and the beautiful weather.

You didn't say a word either, choosing to stay in the comforts of your own thoughts.

Skies so blue it reminded you of the sea. The sun illuminates the earth of its shine, casting a warm sensation to anyone who walks under it. The trees are also swaying with the winds, creating a silhouette of dancing leaves on the pavement while the breeze gently touches your skin.

Then your footsteps came to a halt in front of a rather gloomy place, a complete opposite of the outside world.

You took a deep breath, willing your hands not to shake and figuratively patting yourself on the back, urging yourself that you are a grown woman capable of handling your fears.

Sunoo's worried gaze is now fixated on you, "Y/N?" he calls your name, concern lacing his voice at your sorrowful mien.

"I can do it. Sunoo, watch me do it." you whisper, steels in your orbs and looking straight ahead as you begin trudging the dark road towards your final destination.

Sunoo nods in return, a proud smile on his face, "Go for it, Y/N. I'm rooting for you."

Finally, you have reached the goal.

Crouching on your knees and dropping the bouquet of sunflowers on the neatly trimmed bermuda grass near a sepulcher.

"Hello, Sunoo. I've come to visit you again. I'm sorry if I haven't been able to drop by for a while, college life has been keeping me busy." you laugh albeit without any trace of joy.

You then sit down, not minding if the dirt will stain your pants, hands going over the tomb, fingers tracing the name engraved across the marble.

"Here," you say, pulling out a small container in your bag, "I brought your favorite, mint choco ice cream. Bought it at the coffee shop that you have told me about before." you set it down beside the bouquet, and you couldn't help the small sob that you let out.

Immediately, the man who was beside you the whole time pulled you in a hug, one that your soul felt but physically cannot be perceived.

"Sunghoon said that he'll visit you later, he'll tag Riki along. They said that they will bring some coke and beer." you sniff, your arms wrapping themselves around you.

"They will?" Sunoo mumbles, his own tears forming in the corner of his lids, "What about the others?"

"Hee, Jay, and Jake will follow afterwards, after their finals. You know," you gulped, trying to compose yourself, "It's been another difficult year for us without you."

You can't hold it back anymore, your hands flying to your mouth so that you won't make any embarrassing sounds, continuing to ramble all your sentiments.

"We miss our sunshine, Sunoo. We miss your sassiness, your dolphin squealing, your smile. Sunoo I-I, I miss you so much."

Said man embraced you tighter when your cries got louder, murmuring words of affirmation that you will never ever hear again. Telling you how much he misses you too, but you will never know that.

"I still have these daydreams sometimes. Where you'll k-kiss me when I'm having a hard time. Where you'll give me random gifts because it reminded you of me. Oh gosh-" you wipe away your uncontrollable salty tears that are free falling from your eyes to your cheeks.

If there is one thing that Sunoo regrets the most, it'll be the fact that he wasn't strong enough to continue living. He wasn't brave enough back then to combat the illness that was eating away at his life force.

He succumbed to it when all of you were praying for him to recover.

He let himself sleep even when he promised you a life of eternal love with him.

Maybe that's why he still hasn't left your side, even if his transparent body is slowly disappearing. He has to see you be happy again. He has to watch over you until he knows that someone will be there for you until you're grey and old.

"I'm sorry for being sad Sunoo, god! Y/N, get a hold of yourself!" you snicker, slapping yourself lightly with both hands, plastering a trembling smile on your lips.

"No, Y/N, don't be. It should be me who's apologizing. I'm sorry for causing you so much pain." he says, pulling away from you and putting a hand on your shoulders, but it's no use, because a mere spectre of the past won't be able to send a message to the living, breathing present-day.

"I hope you're resting well there in heaven. Happiest birthday to you, my sunshine."

A longing gaze, yearning for intimacy, embroidered in a ring that was stashed away in his cabinet. One that would not see the day nor would it be placed on your finger.

For the heart is fickle and the brain is a mush of wilted petals, and maybe, in your next life, you will not lose the love of your life.

taglist:

@shakalakaboomboo @ramenoil @slutforjeno

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - feedback is my fuel :)

two - sunflower

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

NOW:

The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkin’ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.

The hospital.

“God, it’s been a while since I was in one of these.” I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.

“You’re awake, Deputy Joyner.” She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. “My name’s Lydia, I’m your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if that’s fine with you.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

“Six days. You suffered from blood loss, so it’s understandable.” The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Liv’s birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.

“A-Alright. Who’re my visitors?”

“Quite a few, actually. There’s Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.” I wasn’t surprised that Mark wasn’t on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that I’d be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.

“Let ‘em in.” I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. “Guys, I’m ok.”

“The hell you are, you had a bullet in you!” Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.

“Well, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but you’re in a hospital bed, so I’m gonna say it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Don’t hog her, dad.” Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldn’t get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.

“I’ll always have time for my baby girl.” I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. “I’m ok, sweetie. I’m safe.” I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Liv’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Elle.” Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.

“Givin’ your dad any trouble?”

“No, no trouble.”

“Good.” I then let go of Olivia, kissing my niece’s forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. “Y’all need to stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll be up and about in a few hours, like hell I’m missing my girl’s sweet sixteen.”

“You need to rest up, Belle.” Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. “You took a bullet to the gut.”

“I’ll rest up when I’m dead.” I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didn’t strain myself.

“Easy, easy.” He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. “Don’t push yourself, ok?”

“You got sent presents.” Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. “The Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.”

“So they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.” Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re ok.”

“Bo-Bo, she deserves a raise.” Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.

“Shush, Denise, I’m doing my job.” I chuckled. “The one I signed up to do, remember? You’re bound to get a bullet or two out there.”

The next day, it was Olivia’s birthday, and I’d gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.

“Hey, Luce.” I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. “It’s been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. She’s grown up to be so… so beautiful, so you.

You’d be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and we’re all the better for it.” I laughed a bit, then looked back. “I wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope you’re watching. Wherever you are. Love you.” I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. “I love you so much.”

“Aunt Isa?” I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.

This was my sister’s daughter.

“Liv, honey.” I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Really. If I made a daughter from scratch, I’d want her to be you.” The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, auntie.”

When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. “Oh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.”

“A…” Liv’s eyes narrowed, “shoebox?”

“Sounds lame, I know. But…” I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with ‘Olivia’ written in Lucy’s neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.

Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucy’s favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a raven’s feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.

But something caught my eye.

I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.

Sunflower.

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile. “Let’s go celebrate my baby girl’s birthday, hm?” Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.

“There she is!” Jenny grinned, pointing to me.

“Deputy of the Month.” Poppernak added with a smile.

“Pops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?” I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. “Carla, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. “Beau told me about the shooting; are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.” I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had ‘Happy Birthday Olivia’ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Olivia’s temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Your mom’s necklace suits you.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Olivia’s sake. “Isabelle.”

“Markham.”

“I got Olivia’s present.” He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. “Look, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-”

“I think I’m good.” I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. “I can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.”

He lowered his voice so Olivia couldn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.”

“Can we not talk about this on my niece’s birthday?” I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. “I’d hate to dampen everyone else’s parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.”

Mark’s grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.

Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.

“When you’re ready.” Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucy’s voice.

‘Hey, sunflower.’ It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that I’d known since I was born and even before that. ‘I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I… I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You… and me. Never forget that.’

“Luce.” I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. “What were you hiding from me?”

“I’m so sorry, Elle.” Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.

“My apologies, sweetheart.” Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.

My sister’s murder case wasn’t as open and shut as I’d initially thought, and it terrified me.

I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-

“Belle.” Beau’s voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldn’t help but relax to - like a lifeline.

Like the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, I’m with you, just…” I took a deep breath in, “last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

It didn’t work. Just. My. Luck.

“Markham.” I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sister’s memory. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.” He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I am Olivia’s father, and you need to give custody over to me.”

“And I’m not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.” I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. “Lucy left me as Olivia’s legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, she’s your stepdaughter. I’d rather let Dean be her legal guardian.”

“I don’t trust Dean.”

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“Look, he just doesn’t come off as the good guy to me.” Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.

“And you do?” I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.

“I never said that.”

“Sounds like you did.”

“I just think Olivia would be safer with me.”

“Ok, Mark, let me make this very clear.” I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather… menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. “I don’t want my night of peaceful drinkin’ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my niece’s birthday party. I’m not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ain’t keen on sending her to you. I do that when I’m on duty, but when I’m not, she’s with me. And it’ll stay that way, y’hear?”

Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. I’d had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.

‘You… and me. Never forget that.’ I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucy’s voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.

It was always you and me.

It was, wasn’t it?

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE

[writermask-0807-backupblog]

TOSHINORI YAGI X READER {TRISTIS OCULIS." or: "YOU HAVE SAD EYES," }

A/N: It's Writermask, and it's my first post as the ✨BaCkUp bLoG✨!!! I officially got permission by Mod Eve (once-upon-a-scenario, you should really check them out if u already don't follow them), and am so happy!!! 😊this is a new writing s t y l e I've tried, and I hope u enjoy!!

Warnings: ooc Toshinori, mentions of blood, implications of abuse and depression.

HIS eyes are blue. 

They're the most bluest you've ever seen- bright, bright sapphire hues, the rich spill of azure and cerulean over the black of the canvas, a slice of cloudless skies, the crystalline haze of the ocean. 

And because you can recognize and dissect the character of a person through the shapes and colors of their eyes, (you know that sounds weird, and vaguely disturbing, even inside your head)- you know his eyes are the eyes of someone trustworthy, the eyes of a caring, friendly person- not the usually jaded, maybe even angry individual you usually encounter on these late night shifts.

(It's… refreshing, in a sense. Sort of, anyway. At least he's not glaring at you, impatiently grinding his teeth as you check his things out, or radiating the stifling aura of someone intimidating and not to be trifled with (like that Yakuza man with the cold, golden eyes that you met last week, but you digress), like the usual pew of customers that trickle in at this time of the night. 

Instead, this man just looks… incredibly tired even as he manages a polite, feeble smile for you, and his skinny, frail-looking frame slumps with fatigue, like he's particularly world-weary today- as though the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders, heavy with a burden no-one but himself could possibly bear. 

There are purple shadows under his eyes, and his cheeks are sunken in, and there's a certain hollowness to the way his sunflower-hued bangs veils his thin, tired face, a certain resignation to the way the sharp planes of his shoulders are hunched together, as he droops tiredly, looking like he's about to black out at any given moment.) 

His eyes- those bright forget-me-not blues- they're the eyes of someone bright and cheerful (just… not right now), the eyes of a soft, caring person. They hold true kindness in them- the rare sort of kindness that's genuinely heartfelt, and you can already tell that this tall, lanky skeleton of a man has a big, big heart, and honestly, you have a shrewd feeling that he offers this silent gift of kindness- this unaffordable, rich gift of anyone and everyone who needs it. 

And without even knowing this stranger, you just know he's the type of person who'd make a good hero. (Or maybe, the sort of person who's already a great hero, in his own way.) But despite all that, you glimpse something below that bottomless blue of his empty gaze, something hollow and empty, almost like… 

Melancholy. Loneliness. Sadness. 

And it’s contagious, somehow, in some way or another, and your heart aches for him- because you know that feeling all too well to not be acquainted with its presence, to the agony and inner turmoil that ensues with its touch. 

The wilting look of frailty, of fragility in his lowered eyes reminds you of your own dark days- (of spending time curled in on yourself, of the constant hunger roaring through your stomach, of the gaping void of loss in your heart, the wet feel of metal flooding your mouth, of screaming and screaming and screaming for a help that never came-!) 

You blink back the sudden bitter sting of memories flooding your mind, and you stare absently at him- at this poor, broken ghost of a man and wonder if this is how you once looked- once upon a time when you lost everything and everyone and had no more purpose to live, and his items suddenly goes limp in your hand as you lower them to the surface of the counter. The words spill out before you can stop them- hold them back, and for some reason, they taste sour on your tongue as you unconsciously murmur them out loud. 

"Tristis Oculis."

The blonde startles at the sound of your voice slicing the silence apart, as though he's forgotten your presence for a moment, and then he straightens immediately, hands clenching into fists at his sides, as he goes stiff-shouldered and rigid-spined, like he's ready to be attacked. Despite the cordial smile that's still twisting his thin lips as he realizes there's only you- the entranced cashier behind the counter, there's a wary look in those tundra blue eyes as he tiredly meets your flustered gaze, but there's also confusion veiled behind the fatigue, curiosity laced behind the wariness. 

"Sorry?"

He asks mildly, and you falter, breath hitching in your chest, eyes widening in absolute horror, as you realize that you've just voiced your musings aloud, and you slap your exasperated palms over your mouth, petrified at your blunder. 

Pure and absolute mortification and embarrassment dawns on you as you realize what you'd just spoken, and you bow immediately, a hurricane of apologies falling uncontrollably from your lips, as shame weighs heavily in your chest, accompanied by the familiar stitch of gnawing guilt knitting your insides together into an uncomfortable, anxiety-induced bunch. You can feel heat rush to your face as your cheeks ignite in a wild, brilliant shade of ashamed scarlet. 

You truly are sorry sorry sorry, you really hadn't meant to offend him any sort of way, you hadn't even meant to mutter that phrase aloud, you just-... You're awkward, and not really good at this, and you're deeply sorry, you really are. Sorry sorry sorry. 

You tell him as much, your arm flailing about in wild, panicked gestures as you scrabble to bow even more deeply for apology, and you're pretty sure you've confused the poor man even more, as now he's blushing heavily too, wheezing something along the lines of "No, no, there's no need to apologize, really, it's fine!" as he forces a strained, awkward smile for your sake- an effort that doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the terror clutching at your chest and the panic flooding your veins. 

(Really, he's too kind-hearted.)

"But really, what did you mean by that phrase? I'm not… exactly familiar with it. "

The man says, when your panic finally dies down and all formal apologies has been exchanged between the somewhat exasperated him and your horrified self, tilting his head curiously, the corners of his mouth dipping down in a small, curious frown, and despite the blush of embarrassment coloring the apples of your cheeks, you can't help but compare him to an eager puppy. An eager, adorable puppy. 

As soon as the thought forms, you snuff it out defiantly, cheeks are flaming even brighter at the- the audacity of it! He's your customer, for God's sake! 

(But really, overlooking the momentarily halted drowsiness in his lanky, skeletal limbs, the fatigue sagging his shoulders and tiredness creasing his gaunt face, he really looks… cute. Not that he doesn't look cute regardless, but that's not the point!) 

You startle nervously when you realize he's still looking at you, with those intensely blue, blue eyes, steady gaze a relentless blizzard, and you wring your hands together in a nervous tick as you begin to explain your… strangeness. 

"T-tristis Oculis. It's um," You smile awkwardly at him, hoping to ease the storm of tension rolling thickly through the atmosphere, (that apparently only you seemed to detect, as the blonde seemed too preoccupied with searching your eyes for an answer.) "It's a- um, a Latin saying. It, uh, it means sad eyes." 

You answer, stuttering around the dryness in your mouth, and you tongue feels like a heavy, unmoving weight in your mouth as you reply, fingers flexing tightly as you fist the fabric of your shirt in your clenched palms, to soothe your forever worsening anxiety, and you can feel the flush on your cheeks sear even hotter.

He stays silent, unreadable, (you get the feeling that he's normally a very expressive person, but just… not right now. Maybe you hit a nerve, or finally offended him in some way?) and you begin to panic once more. You fumble to say something, to break the awkward, heavy silence but you fail for the proper words as your mind blanks of all coherent thoughts, meek voice withering at the back of your throat as you desperately try to breathe around the knot of panic squeezing your chest, and your heart lodges in your throat, hammering wildly. 

Before you can say anything, however, he speaks first, shattering the pregnant silence, and his voice is an incredibly, deceptively soft whisper, like he's on the verge of breaking down. 

"How do you perceive my eyes as sad?"

His cobalt gaze is steady and hard- unlike the barely concealed tremors in his voice, and it pierces right through you, and as you try your very best not to shrink and fidget under the heavy weight of his gaze, you get washed by a sudden, strange sensation that feels odd in the most strangest of ways- like he's peering right into your soul. 

(But despite the firmness in his stare, you see the minute shifts, see the way he falters, the smallest of breaths hitching in his chest, the slight widening of those powder blue eyes, the edges of darkness licking at his vision. Honestly, it's tragic, in a sense, because it's like looking into a shattered mirror and seeing what had once been yourself.) 

Your heart stutters and throttles in your heaving chest, and you swallow thickly, unsure as to how to answer properly, feeling as though you're treading on very thin ice. It doesn't feel like he’s going to hurt you, however. More like how you were going to hurt him, instead. 

You're seized by a sudden melancholy, somber feeling, and you feel the embarrassment ebbing away as you meet the crystal blue of his gaze, and you feel like you're sharing something of a very private, intimate moment, despite both of you barely knowing each other at all.

You decide not to lie. This moment feels too intimate, too precious for you to do so. 

The truth is heavy and bittersweet on your tongue as you voice it aloud, and there's still a bashfulness in the way you fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you reply, cheeks flooding with crimson. (You're pretty sure you resemble nothing short of a very red tomato at this point.)

There's a note of strength, a wavering finality in your tone, however- one that leaves no room for argument. 

"You- your eyes looked sad. And I- I know it's probably offensive and probably not my place, but, um, you look like someone that's normally really happy and bright, but- just, just very tired right now. Like you're afraid and broken and you want to be helped, but there's no-one for you to call out for… "

And indeed, despite the genuine friendliness and kindness and care that's thinly veiled behind the tire brimming in the ocean blue of his gaze, he has the saddest eyes you've ever seen- like he's breathed the air of war, tasted the bitterness of death and rot- like he's lost too many people and he's afraid and too broken to lose anymore. 

(Like he's been strong for too long.) 

(There's something unsaid crossing your tongue, and despite the fact that you don't speak it out loud, you know the both of you can hear it's silent voice- because you're both survivors, and you both can recognize and understand each other's pain, hear the desperation better than anyone else ever will. 

"I know that look, because I've been there before- in that dark, dreary place you're in right now.") 

When you finally muster enough strength to raise your heavy gaze and meet his blistering stare (it's softened considerably), there's a pearlescent liquid collecting at the corners of his eyes, something raw and painful and filled with pure, unadulterated hurt smoldering in his eyes, and it makes your own eyes water with white-hot emotion.

(Because you know exactly how this feels- know how much relief and liberation fills you when someone recognizes your torment and offers help- no matter how meager it is, when your cracks are allowed to mend, when the agony lessens even if it is only by the mercy of some kind words and a gentle smile.)

And as the late evening light of the dying sun spills through the windows, the filter of waning sunlight silhouettes his sharp, lanky (not-so-stiff) profile in spools of molten gold and honey, highlighting the honeycomb color of his wild, wild mane of a hair, and his eyes, those bright, bright sapphire hues gleam like freshly cut gemstones, forget-me-not blues so very vivid and glimmering with a renewed  color and life that wasn't there before. 

He's smiling through the tears as he lifts a palm to rub at the corners of his eyes, and it's a tender, soft sort of smile, not quite as bright and cheerful as he might've wanted it to be, all sweet and appreciative and gentle as the corners of his eyes crease into half-moons with the force of it. 

(And your heart skips a beat as it lurches forward in your chest, and your breath halts, sitting still in your lungs, and your eyes widen, because his smile is so, so beautiful.) 

You suddenly realize that nobody else has noticed his pain, tried to heal his hurt the way you have, and the revelation makes your own heart ache for him in the most bittersweetest of ways, and you welcome the pain that follows. 

"And the part- the part where you said I'd make a good hero?" 

He asks, and there's sort of a hesitation- a tone of rippling hope and childish innocence in his voice that would make anyone buckle at the knees and coo at him, and you feel your cheeks flush scarlet once again. Had you mentioned that part out loud too? Gosh, you're really awkward, aren't you?

His eyes are blue, and they're brimming with a sort of childish inquisition and the rim of tears and hope that you absolutely cannot bear to crush. 

So- bearing your broadest, most brightest grin, you answer honestly, and you can't help but love the way those deep forget-me-not blues seem to light up from the inside out. 

"I fully believe it."

{BONUS}:-

(And maybe, you'll never learn the secret that the man you would come to know as Toshinori Yagi, and eventually to your best friend and then to your lover, was really the Number One Hero All Might himself, and that on that day, and many days after that, you would be his hero- the person who'd seen him at his lowest and help him climb back onto his feet once again.) 

FIN - 

[turnip2001]

tagged by my darling friend @cheribi .. heart u melmel

fav color(s): lavender always, but recently ive been drawn to .. mineral green, icy blue & any shade of pink but especially an earthier shade or a baby pink

last song: apres-ski by david fleming .. as for non-instrumental then get ur freak on by missy elliott

currently reading: i suppose this isnt the question, but i just finished hijab butch blues by lamya h. a few moments ago which i enjoyed v much..! im currently parsing through glitch feminism, play matters & a collection of audre lorde works that was gifted to me by my sweet friend and partner, k

currently watching: ahh . lego masters season 3 w my roommate & best friend 👍🏾

currently craving: poppy seeds, roasted brussel sprouts .. Spinach pasta with sunflower seed pesto instead of nuts .... a cinnamon bun with fig in it . soup dumplings (I ❤️ U food ... 3 meals n 2 snacks a day and dessert if ure nasty .. <- words im trying to live by)

coffee or tea: tea thank you : &)

tagging: .. @angelwisps @bugmistake @la0hu @audarcy @cloverkiss @fruitskies .. if u wish !

[johnny-slaughter-me]

— “ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈. ” | Danny Gaines x Female Reader.

Mini Series. Your father owned a local mechanic shop in a small town. It was the day Danny stepped into the shop that your love story began.

Notes. English isn't my native language so typos and grammar issues are likely.

Warnings. This fic is sfw.

Enjoy. I hope you enjoy the content. Much love, Cherry. 🍒

The next morning Danny headed into work as per usual, he greeted your father good morning and made coffee for the both of them. After helping with some of the opening tasks and paperwork for the day, he went to work on some of the cars in the back, getting fixed and ready for their owners to collect and drive again. He couldn't help but think about you, how you looked at him with your pretty eyes. How warmed you felt when he hugged you tight. How sweet you sounded when you told him whatever was on your mind. Yet he couldn't help the feeling of unworthiness. You and your father have done so much for him, and he would forever be in your debt, but you had gone to college, studying and hard working to achieve a life that was more desirable than being a lone person. He felt as he couldn't give you nearly half of what you deserved, he was too dependent on the bare minimum. But he loves you, he knows he does, and he knows you feel the same.

Your father could sense something was up, and without a single thought he just immediately asked Danny if everything was alright. "Yeah I just, im feeling a bit conflicted about something." Danny replied. "Something or someone?" Your father asked, trying to squeeze out more information. "Ahh it's someone." Danny nervously replied. "Well son don't be shy, what is it that's sitting so heavy on your heart?" Your father asked. "It's ahhh, it's Y/N." Danny said with a sigh, and your father without hesitation said: "She likes you, a lot. I can hear her talking to her girlfriends about you, she forgot we live within humble walls, they aint that thick." And then your father added: "and also I saw you to huggin' by the door last night. Reminded me of when me and Y/N's mother were young and in love". Danny smiled at the thought but then the smile that graced his face turned, and with a sad tone he said: "but she deserves better, she deserves the world and beyond. I don't want to hold her from the life she could have." "Son, do you love her?" Your father asked, "With all my heart." Danny replied. "Well than, why don't you leave a bit early tonight, take her out to dinner, but bring her home by 10." "Yessir!" Danny replied.

When you came to the shop you were surprise to see Danny missing, "ahh dad, where's Danny?" You asked. "He said he has somethin' important tonight, so I let him leave early, but he did want me to hand you this." Your father answered and gave you a note from Danny, telling you to get ready because he will be at your house at six to pick you up. You blushed and rushed home to get ready, a million thoughts racing through your mind and butterflies filled your heart. As promised Danny was at your doorstep by six. "Hey beautiful" he said when you answered the door you chuckled and smiled, complimenting him back. He took you out to the fields, surrounded be sunflowers and dusky skies. After picking out a little makeshift bouquet for you, the two of you headed to a local pizza shop, where Danny treated you to dinner and the two of you spent the evening together.

Tonight when Danny walked you home, at the front step of your door, he couldn't help himself and looked into your eyes. "Thank you Danny, I had a lot of fun tonight." You said in a small voice, still holding your little sunflower bouquet Danny picked for you when you went to the fields. He smiled and his hand graced your face. He gently moved a piece of your hair behind your ear, and leaned in for a kiss. His lips felt so soft on yours, it was just as magical as you fantasized it to be. You kissed him back wanting more and more but Danny slowly pulled away, kissing the top of your forehead before whispering a "goodnight, Y/N". You quietly replied a "goodnight, Danny" and headed inside. The both of you falling asleep dreaming about the other, feeling euphoric, and craving the next day when you'd finally meet again.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a match-up for Harry Potter! Specifically the Marauders Era.

Female, She/They, Pansexual

Plus size!, but more thighs (and boobs) than anything, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, i have glasses,

My personality is loving, patient, (surprisingly) smart and good at classes, but that's probably bc I'm determined and work hard- I can be really sassy though, nurturing, I have to stick to a semi strict schedule, forgiving, and I guess caring, also im an ambivert!! (I just kinda looked up personality traits and went with what I thought fit me. Bear with me.)

Likes: Reading, writing, SWEATERS, school, candles, blankets, sour candy, chocolate, sunflowers, sunsets, the moon

Dislikes: When my schedule gets completely destroyed, sudden and really big change, people who chew with their mouth open, feeling really embarrassed and like everyone is judging me, olives,

Extra fun facts: I have chronic headaches, bad knee problems in my right knee 😍, if I have an assignment I will always do way too much for it

Hope that's okay and you're okay with doing this, and I hope i did it right!!! Sorry for any spelling mistakes :)

Annos, please never apologize for spelling errors, lol. I don't know if you've read my posts, but I can not spell either. I am incredibly reliant on Grammarly, and my partner makes fun of me for it regularly.

Also, does anyone else pretend/feel like that lady from Mulan when they do these matchups? No, just me. Aight, I'll be in the corner now.

~~~~~MATCH UP~~~~~

Annon, I must match you with the sweetest boy of the tricksters.

Remus Lupin

~~Headcanons~~

This man would bake you and buy you the best chocolates. He will curb your sweet tooth like no tomorrow.

He respects a girl who is not afraid to be herself, and if anyone tries to put you down and make you get in your head, he's not scared to be a big bad wolf ( see what I did there )

He loves it when you can put up with his three headaches. Wait, he means friends.

He would want to study with you all the time, so much so that James, Sirius, and Peter complain about missing their friend.

MANS WOULD WEAR MATCHING SWEATERS PROVE ME WRONG

Remus strikes me as the guy who will get you flowers just because, so expect to be showered with your favorites. However, he always forgets that he should buy you flowers on a holiday.

Though he is afraid of the full moon, watching the skies with you any other time has become an enjoyable pastime, especially to see you light up.

When he has to hide away for the full moon, he makes you a goodie basket to 'remember' him by till he comes back.

If you are ever feeling unwell or hurt, he will carry you up to his dorm and make you comfy in his bed. He will get you all the fixings to cure your ailments. I'm talking hot water bottles, heavy blankets, blackout curtains, water, pain medicine, and, of course, cuddles.

~~~~~Blurb~~~~~

You sat in the library waiting for Remus to arrive for your study date. As you finished your potion essay for him to look over, an exhausted, panting Sirius appeared before you. You looked up at him, amused, "Y/N, I am telling you we need him for Quidditch. Please, please, tell him to skip Hogsmeade this weekend." As Sirius was begging, he got down on his knees.

Around the corner soon came James looking almost as exhausted as the other boy in front of you. You chuckle into your hand, knowing that the Librarian will soon grow tired of the Maurder's antics. "Boys, you know he is his own person, right? What makes you think I have any say." You looked at the boys innocently. With a scoff, Sirius stood, wrapping his arm around James' shoulder. "Y/N, the man is so in love with you that he talks to you in his dreams. Of course, he will listen to you."

Before you could open your mouth again, James and Sirius were on the floor, this time due to a perfectly timed nudge to the back of their knees. Remus looked up at you and smiled softly, "Hi, my sweet. I brought you some treats." Placing down your candy, which he knew you favored, he sat across from you, ready to study.

James popped up from the floor, "Look, Y/N, he's even wearing a matching jumper with you! We have asked to match as a group of friends for ages. You can't tell me this man isn't whipped." You laughed at the remark, watching Remus nudge the back of James' knee again, causing him to collapse.

~~~~~EXTRA~~~~~

(You are looking up at the stars with the whole friend group. Your head is placed in Remus' lap. Peter is asleep lounging on the grass. Sirius, James, and Lily are all leaning back, looking at the stars.)

Y/N: Do you think that when the first people watched the stars, they thought they were crazy when they started moving each night.

Sirius: Wait, do the stars move each night?

James: I thought it was the moon that moved.

Lily: Sometimes it amazes me how you two breathe on your own.

Remus: (rubbing his temples, feeling the headache coming on) I'm glad someone else said it.

I hope you enjoy!!

[shortkingvi]

bees? bumbled.

bumbleby nation, it happened. here's an incoherent playlist of happy, lovey, soft songs because our gals have finally found their way to each other in the way they were always meant to. enjoy.

spotify link // apple music link

nothing serious - ages and ages // i think i like you - the band CAMINO // like real people do - hozier // strangers - jonas brothers // pink skies - LANY // i know a place - MUNA // kids - orville peck // where i wanna be - A R I Z O N A // mess is mine - vance joy // thunder love - little dragon // talk - khalid // sleepy eyes - the aces // nervous - joan // i got so much to tell you - nightly // c'est la vie - peach tree rascals // daylight - taylor swift // oh shit...are we in love? - valley // sunflower, vol. 6 - harry styles // ready for you - HAIM // the bones - maren morris ft. hozier // 1950 - king princess // chasing cars - snow patrol // you're gonna make me lonesome when you go - bob dylan (miley cyrus cover) // let's sort the whole thing out - carly rae jepsen

[traegics]

[ Margaret Qualley | she/her] A new face takes refuge under Dark Skies. LORELAI LOCKWOOD, an 25 year old SIPHONER/WEREWOLF HYBRID, is one of those from the FUTURE learning to navigate this changed world. People say behind their back that they’re OPINIONATED but the truth is that they’re really EMPATHETIC. Their style can best be described as IVORY KEYS, SUNFLOWERS, AND SCRUBS, and we’ll see how that helps them fit in. ( Sushi )

BASICS

Name: Lorelai Nyx Lockwood Nicknames/Alias: Rory, Lor Face Claim: Margaret Qualley Age: 26 Gender: Female Sexuality: Heterosexual Species: Siphoner/Witch Hybrid Occupation: RN/Head Nurse at Mystic Falls General Rank: N/A

PERSONALITY

Positives/Virtues/Skills: CPR First Aid Gun efficiency Cheer Gymnastics Softball Flaws/Weaknesses: Unrelenting Anger Aggressive Resentful Impulsive Rebellious

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Olivia Parker (Mother) Tyler Lockwood (Father)

Siblings: Riley Lockwood (Twin Sister)

Children: N/A Other family: N/A Spouse: tbd Ex-Partners: N/A Boss/Employer: TBD Co-Workers: tbd Friends: tbd Enemies: TBD

HISTORY

Coming soon

HEAD CANONS

-- Lorelai started learning piano at the age of 5 and has ever since loved it. -- Girl can sing and actually has one hell of a voice -- She was a straight A student -- Gets emotional when she drinks white wine and dances on tables when she drinks tequila (she's a blast at the club) -- Almost always smells of Sunflowers in the fall/winter and Coconuts in the spring/summer -- Has one perfume that she wears daily and it's one that her fiancé had bought -- One hundred percent loves theater and watching musicals -- Also really loves romance movies and romcoms -- The Notebook is one of her all time favorite romance novels -- Favorite holiday is Christmas -- Has a cat named Mochi -- Lives off of coffee and tea -- Did ballet at the age of 11 until the age of 17 and learned how to ballroom dance at 16 -- Favorite color is a deep, dark yellow like sunflowers -- Top 5 favorite songs to play on piano are, in no particular order, Clocks by Coldplay, Comptine d'unn autre été (Amélie) by Yann Tiersen, Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, River Flows In You by Yiruma, and Toss A Coin To Your Witcher from The Witcher -- Can play virtually any song on piano just by ear alone -- Avid reader (LOVES dystopian, romance, thriller, and fantasy genres such as The Witcher, Maze Runner, Lord of the Rings, Divergent, any romance novel by Nicholas Sparks) -- LOVES karaoke -- Bilingual (English and French)

[propainfuture]

Marvel Characters Theme Songs: Part 1 - Songs

ALMOST ENTIRELY MCU CHARACTERS

(Again, I get most of my information from fanfictions, wikis, and videos, not straight from the comics)

--------

Tony Stark: "Bleeding Out" - Imagine Dragons

Steve Rogers: "Mr. Brightside" - The Killers

Peter Parker: "Stronger Than Ever" - Raleigh Ritchie

Thor Odinson: "Home" - X Ambassadors, Bebe Rexha, and Machine Gun Kelly

Clint Barton: "SING" - My Chemical Romance

Natasha Romanoff: "Try" - P!NK

Bruce Banner: "Animal I Have Become" - Three Days Grace

Wanda Maximoff: "Barbies" - P!NK

Carol Danvers: "Starman" - David Bowie

Bucky Barnes: "My Demons" - Starset

James Rhodes: "Ain't Gonna Die Tonight" - Macklemore (Ft. Eric Nally)

Stephen Strange: "Wake Me Up" - Avicii

Pepper Potts: "Me, Myself, and I" - G*Eazy (Ft. Bebe Rexha)

Peter Quill: "Dancing In The Dark" - Bruce Springsteen

Scott Lang: "Let You Down" - Peking Duk

Vision: "To Be Human" - Sia (Ft. Labrinth)

Sam Wilson: "Human" - Rag 'n' Bone Man

Pietro Maximoff: "Pompeii" - Bastille

Wade Wilson: "C'Mon" - Ke$ha

Mantis: "Shooting Star" - Owl City

Nebula: "Gasoline" - Halsey

Gamora: "Rise" - Katy Perry

Drax: "Believer" - Imagine Dragons

Groot: "I Can See Clearly Now" - Jimmy Cliff

Rocket: "Courtesy Call" - Thousand Foot Krutch

T'Challa: "Lion" - Hollywood Undead

Shuri: "Paper Planes" - M.I.A.

Loki Laufeyson: "Monster" - Imagine Dragons

Yelena Belova: "Here We Go" - Chris Classic

Phil Coulson: "Tragic Endings" - Eminem (Ft. Skylar Hill)

Maria Hill: "I Won't Back Down" - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Nick Fury: "The Phoenix" - Fall Out Boy

Gwen Stacy: "100 Bad Days" - AJR

MJ Watson: "Heart Full of Scars" - Rebecca Black

Harry Osborn: "Fences" - Paramore

Miles Morales: "Sunflower" - Post Malone & Swae Lee

Betty Brant: "Wish" - Trippie Redd

Glory Grant: "All of My Favorite Songs" - Weezer

Felicia Hardy: "GRRRLS" - AViVA

Ganke Lee: "Luv(sic)" - Nujabes (Ft. Shing02)

Michelle Jones: "Red Roses" - Lil Skies (Ft. Landon Cube)

Ned Leeds: "Good Day" - Jax Anderson (Ft. Curtis Roach & Mister Wives)

[yesfxckyxu]

T I M O T H Y L A W R E N C E .

NAME: Timothy Lawrence. AGE: 18. DOB: Sept. 19. NATIONALITY: Australian. SPECIES: Human. GENDER: Male. OCCUPATION: Gang Member / Computer Programmer Geek. HEIGHT: 5’9”. HAIR: Chestnut Color. EYES: Amber. FACECLAIM: unknown / Midou Maya.

When he moved to American soil, he didn’t expect the environment to be as bad as it was.

He missed the sight of sunflowers and blue skies.

But he didn’t regret the friends he made.

Biography:

Timothy lived in Australia for the majority of his childhood, but that soon changed when his parents got a job offer in New York. Taking the chance, they moved. Timothy being onboard and excited to meet new people in a new place, he did become quickly overwhelmed by the new environment's conditions.

Though, despite that, it didn’t take long to make some friends. Those friends eventually brought news that there was an offering to make meaning to your life—more, as they were skeptical and made fun of it. Investigating what that could possibly mean led Timothy to the very start of a gang called Manic Rat Mayhem. Passing almost all the tests presented, Timothy decided to stay and continue his life with the gang.

Ever since Timothy has joined, he has been labeled the 'sunflower' of the group. He brings everybody together and knows how to lift them when they feel down. As the hacker and code developer, his job mainly deals with computers and other electronic devices.

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM

five - make him hurt, make me bleed

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. “Evening, sir, can I help you?”

“Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”

“He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”

“Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?” 

“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.

“Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”

NOW:

“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”

“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.

“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”

“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.

“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”

“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”

“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”

I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”

“Three’s a crowd, but four’s a party.” I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harry’s eyebrow twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. “Who’s this, sweetheart?” He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.

“Harry Holden.” Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. “I’m, uh, Elle’s old friend.” Beau’s eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latter’s hand anyway, adopting a smile.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen.” He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. “I’m Belle’s boyfriend.” Oh. Oh, we’re doing that. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beau’s cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.

“Your boyfriend.” Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. “Well, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, won’t she? I’ll drop her off, if that’s ok.”

“Mhmm, yeah, it’s ok. I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” I nodded, swallowing as Beau’s grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.

So… more of an attempt.

In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captors—members of a notorious crime syndicate—as they loomed over him with a menacing presence.

Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."

Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."

Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.

Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.

"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swear—"

The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."

Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."

Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phone—information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."

Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.

"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"

In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I don’t know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I… don’t know."

The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."

As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded back—her bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.

Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside—a world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.

When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.

Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.

Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."

The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."

Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."

Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.

And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the walls—the same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.

"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."

Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."

"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."

The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.

"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."

Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngest’s sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.

As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.

Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.

Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.

The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of town—a forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.

Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.

"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. “I swear, it’s here-” He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remy’s gun as he blew it off.

“My patience wore thin.” Remy’s sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. “You lot know what to do.”

Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markham’s relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.

When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. “Wow, this looks amazing, Mark,” she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.

Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. “I’ve been good, thank you,” she replied politely. “School’s going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Olivia’s aunt. “Listen, Liv, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “Sure, what is it?”

Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time for a change. I know you’ve been living with your aunt for a while now, but I’d like you to consider staying with me permanently.”

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. “Oh,” she said softly, setting her fork down. “I… I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. She’s been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.”

“I understand,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. “But I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.”

Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Mark. You’re nice to me and everything. It’s just… Aunt Isa has always been there for me. She’s like a second mom.”

Mark’s heart sank a little at Olivia’s words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. “I see,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Well, I want you to be happy, Olivia. That’s the most important thing.”

Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just want what’s best for you.”

The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.

“Well, Olivia,” he began, “it’s getting late. I should take you back to your aunt’s place.”

Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. “Thank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.”

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I can’t… you know…”

Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It’s alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.”

Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.

Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her aunt’s house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.

When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he said softly.

Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. “You too, Mark.”

I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. “I missed you too, gumdrop.” I grinned, kissing her hair. “C’mon, I got ice cream.” I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. “What flavour are you feelin’ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?”

“How about both?”

“I like the way you think.” I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. “We’re gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriff’s trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?” I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.

However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. “Yeah, of course! I still can’t get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.” Olivia smirked. “Is there something you’re not telling me-?”

“Olivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?” I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. “Jenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.” I gave her a stern look, but couldn’t help but break into giggles again alongside her. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didn’t sound like it’d hold, and the many men’s voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.

“A-Auntie? What’s going on?” She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.

“I don’t know. But you need to go.” I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. “Out of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so there’s no time to get ‘em. Don’t get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlen’s trailer is. Go tell him what’s happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. “Please, sweetie. Run.” And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.

There’s no way I was winning this fight.

“There’s Cal Joyner’s little girl.” One of them smirked, stepping towards me. “And she’s got a knife.”

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Another added with a matching wolffish grin. “D’you reckon we should have our fun with her?” The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.

“Not if she’s wielding that pigstick.”

“That won’t be a problem, Yates, we’ll have that out of her hands in seconds.”

“Don’t you dare.” I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. “Deputy Elle Joyner, Sheriff’s Department. Tell me what you’ve done to Cal.”

“Cal’s got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.” The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.

Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her aunt’s, more accurately, sprinting over to Beau’s trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.

“Say, is Belle gonna take any longer?” Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.

“Give her some time, Beau.” Carla chastised. “She has a life.”

“Yeah, Beau.” Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.

“You tell her, Carla.” Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said ‘don’t look at me’.

“You inducted my daughter into your little support group.” Beau faux-gasped. “I’ll never forgive you. Never-”

“SHERIFF!” Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.

“Easy, Liv, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Shh, easy, talk to me.”

“It’s A-Aunt Isa!” She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. “Some men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-”

“I’ve got you.” Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. “Your aunt’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I won’t let anythin’ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.” Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. “Hoyt, let’s go.”

“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beau’s car, Jenny’s panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.

“BELLE!” Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldn’t have found me- God, my everything hurts. “Hoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.” Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. “I-It’s bad, J-Jenny, it’s bad, she’s bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?” He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. “Stay with me, Deputy. Don’t go passin’ on me now, don’t you dare.”

I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

[jakobdodson]

2022 in Music

Here is a note about the music I listened to in 2022. I hope you enjoy it!

Favorite Albums of 2022

Blue Rev - Alvvays

Banger after banger after banger on here!

Favorite Songs:

After The Earthquake

Tile By Tile

Belinda Says

Bored In Bristol

A Light For Attracting Attention - The Smile 

This is essentially a Radiohead album with a jazzy twist. Accordingly, it belongs here, among my favorites of the year. 

Favorite Songs:

Speech Bubbles

Open The Floodgates

Free In The Knowledge

Skirting On The Surface

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You - Big Thief

My most anticipated release of the year that easily surpassed my highest expectations. It explodes into several beautifully creative directions and where it could overwhelm with its ambition it tends to endear and make you smile.

Favorite Songs:

Change

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You

Flower of Blood

Red Moon

Promise Is a Pendulum

12,000 Lines

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

Runners Up

Dawn FM - The Weeknd 

Once Twice Melody - Beach House

LABYRINTHITIS - Destroyer 

Ice, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms, and Lava - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Dripfield - Goose

Music for Animals - Nils Frahm

Liked It

Misadventures of Doomscroller - Dawes

I’m Not Sorry, I’m Just Being Me - King Hannah

Good and Green Again - Jake Xerxes Fussell

Hell on Church Street - Punch Brothers

Time Skiffs - Animal Collective

Ants from Up There - Black Country, New Road 

Humble Quest - Maren Morris

The Joy of Music - Ben Rector

The Jacket - Widowspeak

Underground Complex No. 1 - Typhoon 

Fear of the Dawn - Jack White

Omnium Gatherum - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Giving The World Away - Hatchie 

Break Me Open - S. Carey

Romeo & Juliet - Ryan Adams

One is One - Delta Spirit

Two Ribbons - Let’s Eat Grandma

Big Time - Angel Olsen

Preacher’s Daughter - Ethel Cain

Cruel Country - Wilco

The Loneliest Time - Carly Rae Jepsen

Surrender - Maggie Rogers

Teeth Marks - S.G. Goodman 

Take It Like A Man - Amanda Shires

Sons Of - Sam Prekop & John McEntire

Chloe and the Next 20th Century - Father John Misty

Reggae Film Star - Damian Jurado

Freakout/Release - Hot Chip

Will Of The People - Muse

WE - Arcade Fire

Birds In The Ceiling - John Moreland

Profound Mysteries II - Röyksopp 

sandhills music - Ben Seretan

The Blue EP - MORE&MORE

I’m Sweating All the Time - Wormy

Heartmind - Cass McCombs

The Liar - John Fullbright

Midnights - Taylor Swift

Changes - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Rolling Golden Holy - Bonny Light Horseman

Into the Blue - Broken Bells

I Walked With You a Ways - Plains

Laminated Denim - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

ILYSM - Wild Pink

Being Funny in a Foreign Language - The 1975

And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow - Weyes Blood

Schvitz - Vulfpeck

MUNA - MUNA

Cowboy Ballads, Pt. 1 - Jesse Tabish

Drew Winn - Drew Winn

Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? - Tyler Childers

Blue Skies - Dehd

Harry’s House - Harry Styles

Ali - Vieux Farka & Khruangbin

Meh

Quitters - Christian Lee Huston

Chris - Ryan Adams

Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar

Plonk - Huerco S.

Palomino - First Aid Kit

Alpha Zulu - Phoenix

God Save the Animals - Alex G

No Rules Sandy - Sylvan Esso

Not from 2022

Ram - Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney 

Plum - Widowspeak

Tago Mago - CAN

Ege Bamyasi - CAN

Night Moves - Bob Seger

Dots & Loops - Stereolab

Haven’t Listened Yet...

ForeverEverAndEverNoMore - Brian Eno

Empire Central - Snarky Puppy

Björk - Fossora

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cool It Down

FM - Ryan Adams 

Entering Heaven Alive - Jack White

V I N C E N T - FKJ

Inside Problems - Andrew Bird

Kumoyo Island - Kikagaku Moyo

Dropout Boogie - The Black Keys

Headful of Sugar - Sunflower Bean

Everything Was Beautiful - Spritualized

Electricity- Ibibio Sound Machine

(watch my moves) - Kurt Vile

You Belong There - Daniel Rossen 

El Mirador - Calexico

Unlimited Love - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Things Are Great - Band of Horses

caroline - caroline

Pompeii - Cate Le Bon

The Dream - alt-j

Anaïs Mitchell - Anaïs Mitchell

Laurel Hell - Mitski 

Silver Sash - Wovenhand

Concerts Attended in 2022:

The War on Drugs - Cains Ballroom - Tulsa, OK - 6/4/22

John Fullbright - Fassler Hall - Tulsa, OK - 10/2/22

Spoon - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Goose - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Kacey Musgraves - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Luke Combs - Paycom Center - Oklahoma City, OK - 12/9/22

The Book of Mormon - Eugene O’Neill Theatre - New York, NY - 12/21/22

Links to past lists:

10 Albums that changed my life

2012

2013

2014 

2015

2016

2017 

2018

2019 

2020 

2021 

_________________________________________________

Happy Listening!

Jake

[antion-bewitching-bitch]

Chapter 1 : The Fool

Descendants x Male OC [Can be read as self-Insert] Masterlist | Previous | Next

An: I FINALY FINISHEDDD IT WHOOOOO!!! I've done my best to proofread and like edit stuff out before uploading this but if you do see some. Either comment about it so I can edit it, or squint and ignore it. Now before any further ado, Enjoy CHAPTER 1!!!!!!!!! To any new comers. Hi! you can read this as a self-insert. With Eli being your like insert character thing, I just decided to make a male oc rather than a male y/n or reader because it just gives more character and personality than a basic empty shell that y/n or reader sometimes need to be TW: None. Word Count: 3.6k

The ride to Auradon was a long one, there were a lot of hurdles surrounding the isle that made sure it was separated and kept under ‘control’. Not only was there a viscous storm that would shroud the isle, with bumpy torn like rocks that were sharp making the ships not be able to cross pass it even after they pass the storm. Finally there was the border surrounding everything, even if one was able to pass through the storm and rocks. This would end the journey out the Isle, nothing can get past it; some even rumored that the fairy godmother used up all her power for the barrier.

“What are these?” Jay and Carlos were about the sugary delights at the limo. “Their candy, and that dark brownish thing is chocolate.” Eli told them, Carlos looked at him and asked “How do you know?”

“My mother. These ‘Candies’ were part of the things she told me she missed. She would go on and on about how there is nothing ‘sweet’ to eat in the Isle.” Eli took a piece of candy. It was a chocolate covered biscuit, he bit into it and he couldn’t help but smile and love this so called ‘sweet’ flavor his mother would always complain to him about.

“I’m gonna be an addict to these” Eli admitted while the other guys started devouring the other delights. “Are you guys not having some?” Eli asked Mal and Evie.

“I’m not in the mood” Mal answered, Evie being curious grabbed one. This was covered in a golden wrapper and had a nutty chocolate cover over a hollowed treat, after a bite she was surprised. This was nothing compared to the food they would eat in the Isle.

They were stuck on the road, the driver told them the journey to Auradon was going to take 4 hours for them to get there. The VKs tried their best to keep themselves entertained. Having been tasked by their parents to set them free, they wanted to talk about it but couldn’t because the driver was present. So they spent most of their time either sleeping, chatting, or eating the snacks.

゜・。. ♡ ♧ ◇ ♤ .・゜゜・

Eli and Evie then noticed that outside the window, they weren’t on sea anymore, they’re on the land of Auradon itself. It was miles different than from the isle, they could already see the city and castle of Auradon. However the thing which caught their eye the most was the lush green land, clear bright blue skies, and the gorgeous scenery of flower fields and more.

“How pretty…” Evie whispered while she and Eli were basically squishing their faces at the limo’s windows. They were so enamored by the scenery that Mal couldn’t help but wonder what was so great about it. “I think those flowers are..Sun Flowers?.. If I remember my lessons correctly.” Eli shared with Evie.

“Oh how beautiful, I wish things like that would grow in the isle!” Evie pouted

“I vaguely remember my nanny telling me that their flower head would point at wherever the sun was, and when they can’t find it. Some would stare at each other!” Eli was yapping on about his knowledge about Sunflowers

“It seems we are leaving the fields of these stars soon..” Evie was saddened because she saw in her line of sight that they would soon pass these fields.

“What's so great about them? They're just flowers, nothing big.” Mal asked the two, Eli and Evie looked back at her and then each other. 

“I pity her.”  “So do I.”,  Eli and Evie told each other

“Their just fields of flowers? At the Isle there's fields of flowers in the forest, yet you guys don’t seem so enamored by them like you do here.” Mal questioned them again

“Well Mal the difference between the flowers in the Isle and the ones here is simple, they’re not ugly nor do they smell horrific like in the Isle.” Evie answered her

Mal simply rolled her eyes because she simply doesn’t understand where Evie or Eli is coming from. ‘What's the use of beautiful flowers anyway? The one in the Isle can be used for potions!’ was all Mal thought.

゜・。. ♡ ♧ ◇ ♤ .・゜゜・

It took a while for them to reach the school. However they immediately noticed when they were close, for they could hear the loud and synchronous chanting of a marching band.

Auradon! Auradon High! Aurado-

They kept chanting the school’s name and it was becoming louder and louder the closer they got. A bit too loud in Eli’s opinion, the limo stopped and was now presenting the VKs in front of the School’s grounds. The driver went out and opened the door for them.

Carlos was leaning at the car’s door staring out the window, suddenly when it came open he hit the floor face first. Jay who was next to him pushed him aside so he could go out, Carlos who already got hurt was now squirming on the ground. 

“YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST HELP ME GET UP!” He screamed at Jay

“You’re right! I could have!.” Jay answered and continued to laugh as he watched Carlos get up.

Mal and Evie went out one after another and then the three people went in front of them while the marching band finished their chanting.

“Welcome you four, to Auradon Prep!” A high pitched voice came from the crowd, everyone parted to show where it came from. It was a lady in pastel blue.

Eli, who was in the very back of the limo; was the last one to get out. He looked out to see everyone staring at them, not surprising for they were the awaited guests for the day. He just felt like some were staring with malice.

“Oh, there's one more!” She exclaimed seeing Eli emerge from the limo, “Well nonetheless you are all welcome to this magnificent school!”

“Thank you for the wonderful greeting!” Evie smiled back.

“Pleased to finally meet all of you!” A boy spoke out walking towards them to greet them once again. This time, the boy had a girl who was wrapping herself around him. Both look the same age as them.

Jay was already eyeing the girl up and down, he is into brunettes like her. Eli bumped and glared at him, signaling to keep an eye on his mannerisms. 

“Before we start the tour, it is only right that I introduce myself! My dearies, I am Fairy God Mother, FGM for short!” She said, she did a little bow and Mal immediately jittered and asked “Like the bippity boppity boo?”

“You’re right! Bippity boppity boo! However, let's not dwell in the past or else we will miss the future.” FGM answered in a high pitched voice with hand gestures. She then gestured toward the two others.

The young man bowed his head “Good day, I am Ben-” “-Prince Ben, his the son of the king beast and queen belle.” The girl next to him interjected.

“Aubrey, daughter of sleeping beauty.” She then introduced herself.

“Mal.” Mal answered back, “Daughter of Maleficent.”.

As Ben was about to shake her hand, Aubrey stopped him.

“Hmm, seems so. You seem a lot like your mother.” Aubrey states back in a mocking way while tilting her head. Ben on the other hand shook her off and was showing signs of irritation on how she was acting.

“Evie! Princess Evie, Daughter of the Queen.” Evie introduced herself with a little spin. She seems like she’s trying to make a good impression after finding out Ben was a prince.

“Oh, yes wel-” Ben was going to shake her hand but was again interjected by Aubrey in a condescending way “The Evil queen doesn't have power over here, sweety. You’re. Not. A. Princess.”

Eli and Mal were getting tired of Aubrey and her bullshit. They didn’t hide it, they just continued glaring at her. 

FGM feeling the conflict in the air, tried to mediate. “Now, now. Why don’t we tour the place! You’ll be staying here for a long time, so it's best you get to know the location right!” She was planning to leave it to Ben and Aubrey but seeing the conflict in the air already being so thick, she decided to just do it herself.

“Ben and Aubrey will be going now, for they are very busy so it's best to say regards now. you can introduce yourself later!” FGM stated making a opening for Aubrey and Ben to get away.

“That's right! We have lots to do being royalty.” Aubrey went back and slithered her arms around his again

“Wait n-” Ben was trying to continue greeting everyone but was getting dragged away by Aubrey. However, Eli reached out and grabbed him.

“Why go! Duties can wait. It is his idea to send us here, correct?” He asked loudly, he didn’t let him go which frustrated Aubrey who was already planning to leave all of this behind.

“Right?” Eli continued, everyone else was silent. But Ben shook Aubrey off and continued. “Yes, it was indeed my idea.” he answered with a forced slime.

“As you suggested I can tour you myself! Along the way I hope to make very close acquaintances with you.” and with that sets the VKs being toured all over the campus.

゜・。. ♡ ♧ ◇ ♤ .・゜゜・

The tour started with the Field alongside the Gym. As Ben toured with FGM he noticed the school team practicing and pointed out “In the campus, there are numerous activities us students can enjoy. One of those being sports! Fun fact about me is, I am the captain of the Tourney team, alongside fencing, and swimming!”

“Tourney? What's that?” Evie and Eli being the only ones actually listening, Mal didn’t even bother hiding her displeasure with the tour. Meanwhile Jay and Carlos were frolicing around the field. 

“You don’t know what that is? Tourney? Really?” Ben asked them

“Have you forgotten we were from the Isle?” Eli answered him sarcastically.

“Tourney is Auradon’s national sport!” Ben continued, while he tried to move on from that. “It's very competitive and physically demanding. Being the captain, I had to go through vigorous training to be able to maintain the status of being one.”

“Which means buff guys” Eli whispered to Evie while insinuating something to her while bouncing his eyebrows. Which made her giggle.

FGM being with them after Aubrey left, noticed Jay and thought about him possibly joining a sport team with his built stature. Soo she went to Ben and told him while pointing, “Take a look at him, I think your team can make use of him in the future.”.

As the tour continued, Ben still stole glances at Mal but also some at Eli. Whenever he was caught or made eye contact with either he would just smile and continue with his tour.

As Ben opened the large doors to the library, Eli noticed the whispers and gazes that were just out of sight. He knew that those were the other students gawking at them, they all expected this but he felt like something else was festering that wasn’t just their judgemental eyes and mouths.

“Oh my look! There must be thousands of books here!” Evie said in awe, being from the Isle there was only a limited amount of time a kid could read and reread about murder, potion brewing, wicked stories and the likes.

“There are exactly 15,678 books! Well it's just an estimation, every year we hope to make it larger and larger.” Ben stated which made Mal scuff.

“Why would there be a need to get more books?” She asked while she was leaning against a nearby bookshelf.

“Of Course you would think that way! You don’t know how to read!” Carlos jokes. Which ended with Mal hitting him in the chin.

“Books are important, Mal! They’re knowledge written down, passed on and rewritten again. Lots of secrets, recipes, spells, stories and more can be found.” Evie answered Mal’s previous question.

As the others continued to walk around with Mal being dragged by Evie to check the books. Ben and Eli were left alone to themselves so Ben tried to take the initiative and start a conversation with him. 

“So um.. Do you like to read Eli?” Ben asked him. 

He didn't answer, nor did he even face him. Eli was just standing there and not acknowledging him. So Ben just stared at him hoping for something or anything other than just this awkward silence. 

Meanwhile Eli looked out of the large windows in the library and saw how low the sun was setting in the distant horizon, he was still amazed at how different the skies were in Auradon compared to the Isle. Ben then heard him yawn.

“When will the tour be over?” Eli asked him.

“A- What was that?” Ben asked again, surprised by his sudden question. 

Eli faced him and sighed, “When will this tour be over?”. Ben didn't answer after a few seconds of silence. 

“Are you not enjoying the tour?” “It doesn't matter if I enjoyed it or not, I'm getting too tired to continue.” Eli answered him. 

“Fitting! We'll be heading to the Dorms next!” He smiled. Ben stayed smiling and wanting to present himself in a good manner the entire time, even when Eli wasn't responding back. 

゜・。. ♡ ♧ ◇ ♤ .・゜゜・

Touring the Dormitories the VKs were split; Mal and Evie being separated from Eli, Jay, and Carlos. For the tour being separated for girls and boys, FGM touring Mal and Evie with Ben touring Eli, Jay, and Carlos. 

“Now there are two Dorms, one for the Royals and One for the common..no others.. Wait. Just another one not-for-royals. The ones not-for-royals is where you all will be staying!” Ben walked them through the boy’s wing.

“Why would they divide the girls and boys?” Eli was still annoyed at the fact he had to stay with other boys.

“What's wrong with being stuck with the boys Eli? Don’t you like them~” Jay mocked him playfully, which ended with Eli kicking him in the leg.

“It's to avoid most incidents, and that's all they have for defense! I also think it's stupid, maybe one day i’ll remove it-” Ben answered and mumbled the last part as he walked with them.

“Do you not like being with the boys? If you're afraid of prejudice because of- um- your- ugh. Attraction! I can assure you I will not tolerate that from happening.” He continued trying not to seem offensive or anything that could make Eli uncomfortable, however he did take a mental note that Eli likes boys.

“It's fine.” Eli answered sharply.

“Oh right! Here in Auradon’s Dormitories, we have flatmates! Each person will have a fellow student who you will share a dorm with!” Ben continues the tour, “Here. This will be Jay’s and Carlos’ Room!”

Ben showed a door towards a room at the very end of the hallway. Eli continued to notice the glances and stares that came from the other students trying to be secretive, he noticed eyes hiding themselves from their room’s doors.

“Woah! Look at that!” Carlos screamed while getting in, he pointed at the TV while Jay immediately ran to the beds and collapsed on them. 

“Ughhhhhh.... Yeah this is a good bed.” Jay groaned into the bed. He spread his limbs and spread like a starfish. “They're better than the ones from the Isle!”

Eli stared into the room and can see it was truly meant for boys with how bland the room looked. He saw that there were only 2 boys and figured he might get his own room with another roommate and asked Ben

“Where's my room? Also who will my flatmate, or whatever you call a roommate be?” 

Ben then looked around the room more carefully and hesitantly answered “I don’t know?… I thought they would have placed you with them…”

“Wait so I don’t have a room?” Eli asks befuddled and surprised.

“We can both go to the Dormatory’s Administration! I promise I can be with you and help you with this issue.” Ben answered him, trying a reassuring smile in the end.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Eli groaned loudly and leaned against the wall, he was getting more and more tired of Auradon the longer at this point.

゜・。. ♡ ♧ ◇ ♤ .・゜゜・

“Let me get this straight, you invited me to Auradon. But didn’t really account for me coming?!” Eli asked them a rhetorical question.

“I’m afraid we don’t have the room… left for you…” they continued.

“So what. You forced me to leave; and then make me go back to the Isle again?” Eli was clearly getting more pissed since he was starting to become more sarcastic.

The admin nodded slowly. In a cowardly way.

“YOU BITCH.” Eli screamed.

Ben tried to calm him down and covered his hand and asked the admin. “Is there really no other room that we can provide for him?”

“I’m sorry but, the room given out for the other VKs were already the last ones. being added last minute into the curriculum and all…”

“IS THAT MY FAULT?! GET ME A ROOM, I DON’T CARE. JUST DO YOUR FUCKING JOB.” Eli basically shouted at the admin, Ben continued to hold Eli’s hand while holding his head in disappointment. He didn’t want to stop his anger because it was justified, however he also assumed most of the anger was also with how tired Eli is..

The tour reached till the end of the day so it wasn’t that all surprising that Eli was upset. Being presented with the news he didn’t have a room to rest at didn’t make it all that better.

“Can he not be with the other VKs? We can just add another bed there right?”

“He cannot. The Dorms have the strict rule of only having two each dorm.”

“Can we not spare him? His a guest I personally invited. Can he not be given one?” Ben asked again but more irritated. Even he was getting annoyed with these rules.

“Apologies but we trully can’t-”

“SO WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN?” Eli slammed the table. Pushing Ben’s hand off him and sitting up from his seat.

The two remained silent, trying to think of a way.

Eli sat back down devastated while hunching his back and covering his eyes from tearing up from his frustration and sleep deprivation then asked softly “Can you call the car back now the-”

“No. No need for that Eli.” Ben cut him off, as he soothed his back trying to reassure him.

“Let him be with me then! I already have a room, I don’t have a flatmate, and I can just add some furniture and all that to accommodate him.” Ben stated.

“What?” Eli asked. reeling back from his frustration, sleep deprivation, and disappointment.

“It's allowed, right? I’ve thought about the rules and I don't recall any that says I can’t?” Ben asked the admin. 

“I don’t think it is?...wait let me recheck…”

The admin then flipped through all the handbooks about the rules and Eli asked Ben. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“Why wouldn't I be? I just hope you don’t mind sharing a room with me.” He smiled at him.

“Don’t be an idiot rethin-”

“It's allowed.” the admin cut him off. Both them were shocked.

“Technically speaking the Dorms For Royalty do allow for even non-official royals which includes Eli. Still being related to The White Queen, he is a non-recognized royal. Allowing him into the Dorms For Royalty” The admin stated

“And with Prince Ben himself accepting and stating he wants him as a flatmate, there is no rule or restriction stopping him from doing so! Being both the same sex and both agreeing, there is nothing saying it's invalid.” The admin continued.

“So I’m correct. It is allowed.” Ben said while turning to Eli, he smiled brightly being happy that we found a way to keep Eli from not going back to the Isle.

Now explained as to how Eli became stuck with Ben in the Dormitories for Royals the rest of the academic year.

Reaching Ben’s Room, Eli no longer cared for even removing his leathered straps and just jumped into bed. There was only 1 big one in the middle of the room that was themed with blue and gold, however he didn’t care and just went to bed.

“-I hoped you wouldn’t be too bothered... At least you got your well deserved rest…” Ben mumbled walking near his bed. He will not lie, Mal earlier from the first glance was an apple to the eyes but Eli. he felt something different with him..

“Where will I sleep then?” Ben whispered to himself as he watched Eli fall into a deep slumber. It was already past midnight so he didn’t wish to disturbed him that much but he too was also tired.

So Ben slowly pushed Eli to the side, careful not to disturb him. Then layed next to him in the bed. “This… might be dangerous in the future… I need to get him his own bed first thing in the morning.” he continuously whispered to himself.

Alongside Eli, Ben didn’t bother changing into his clothes. He could change his clothes but didn’t bother because of his tiredness from dealing with Eli’s room situation. So they now both fell asleep next to each other.

However, the other VKs. They weren’t planning to go straight to bed, Mal wanted the wand; and she wanted it now.

An: Was it good enough for the wait? Also look! new boarders and header! I hope yall like this, even if it basically took 3 weeks to finish/do. After this I'll take a short break and come back to make chapter 2. Also if you have read any like inconsistent writing styles or anything like that, please note that I've written this in a span of 3 weeks with long brakes each time. So sometimes I can write differently from break to break. P.S. I think i fucked up with my title choices but I promise I'll make up to it in chapter 2. Edit: I've edited the title and deleted the old header + added a new one, for it to fit the overall plan/lore I've got for this first novel? idk i plan to make this into 3 part series following the original trilogy of descendants