#until that thing’s magnetized to four other vehicles

[authorofthelabyrinth]

An accurate summary of Wolf Like Me: Two of Australia’s worst drivers fall in love and decide to form a werewolf pack.

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Skyward Realm

The Skyward Realm was a later addition to my theme park concept (just as fully explorable airborne environments didn't become a thing until relatively recently in the franchise). It obviously draws inspiration from Skyward Sword and the sky islands of Tears of the Kingdom, but you can also meet the Rito here, and elements from a few of the LoZ series' sky-themed dungeons are used for flavor.

Strikingly, the area is built to a much higher elevation than the rest of the park--it sits atop a structure as much as 100 feet tall (which doubles as a show building for a few rides). The edges of the structure are covered in artificial clouds to emphasize the "skyborne" nature of the area, and the buildings are decorated with colorful pinwheels and flags to catch the breeze. (Some of the larger ones are marked on the map with asterisks.) Only a small strip of the area's footprint is at ground level, to contain the entrances and/or exits of the escalators, elevators, and rides that make the Skyward Realm accessible.

Attractions

Ancient Cannon: In order to get from the Surface to the Sky, you could take an elevator or escalator...or you could try out this brief but intense ride, inspired by Twilight Princess. A powerful magnetic launch sends guests shooting up a steep slope to the upper level, where they disembark; the car then reverses gently down the track for the next bunch.

Sailcloth Plunge: By the same token, those looking to return to ground level might take this ride, a simple parachute drop.

Flight Range: Maybe the most technologically sophisticated ride in the park, this one combines arm-mounted vehicles with 3D screen effects and “virtual” bows and arrows so guests can test their archery skills at Revali’s own target-shooting range!

Landing Platform: A meet-and-greet for Rito characters (Revali, Kass, Medli), who actually “soar” in from a nearby tower (via zipline) when they’re ready for the guests!

Wing Ceremony: Echoing Universal’s Dueling Dragons, this relatively gentle suspended coaster features two interweaving tracks and red and blue cars with a Loftwing motif. Part of the track (marked by a dash-dot line) actually extends out over the edge!

Astral Observatory: Officially the highest point in Hyrule, this mysterious tower contains many beautiful star charts, astronomical instruments, and other details to peruse while waiting your turn to peer through one of the telescopes for an unparalleled (and AR-enhanced) view of the kingdom.

Eagus’s Sword Academy: Kids 12 and under receive foam swords and instruction in a variety of sword moves from none other than Eagus, the swordmaster of the Skyloft Knights Academy! Up to four “lessons” (shows) a day.

Shops

8. Oocca Pod Shop: Named for the odd little shop in the City in the Sky in Twilight Princess, this shop offers a variety of kites, gliders, and other airborne toys (but please don’t throw them off the edge of the Realm).

9. Brazen Beak Plumage Boutique: Named after the Rito Village clothing store in Breath of the Wild and providing much the same function here—souvenir clothing and feathered accessories such as headbands, hair clips, cockades, and costume wings.

Eateries

10. The Lumpy Pumpkin: Based on the inn of the same name from Skyward Sword, this buffet restaurant serves home-style food with pumpkin specialties.

11. Light Lunches: Heavy meals won't do for flying creatures, so this counter service restaurant offers a variety of prepackaged salads, fruit bowls, flaky pastries, and fluffy mousse desserts, for adventurers who don't want to be weighed down.

12. Luv & Bertie's Enhanced Elixirs: Another beverage location in the vein of the Potion Hut, this one referencing the potion-making couple from Skyward Sword.

Miscellaneous

The Skyward Realm has no Spirit Train station of its own, but is served by the one for Zora's Domain (marked but not labeled on this map). The train route does pass through a tunnel under the Realm, as shown by the dotted line.

[reddogstarsystem1111]

Mer-Ka-Ba

History has talked about the Mer-Ka-Ba mostly as the vehicle that allows a person to ascend or descend into the higher or lower worlds. But actually the Mer-Ka-Ba is much more than just a vehicle of ascension. It can be, really, anything — since it is the primal pattern that created all things and all universes, both visible and invisible (see The Ancient Secret of the Flower of Life, volumes I & II). In the Bible there is reference to Ezekiel and the wheels by which Ezekiel ascended into heaven.[3] This was the Mer-ka-Ba. In the Torah, there is reference to the Merkavah (as it is spelled in Hebrew) which has two different meanings: One meaning is “chariot,” which is a vehicle; the other is the “Throne of God.” When the two definitions are combined, the true meaning comes to life. In Ancient Egypt, this primal pattern was called the Mer-Ka-Ba. It was actually three words, not one. Mer meant a kind of light that rotated within itself. Ka meant spirit, in this case referring to the human spirit. And Ba meant the human body — though it also could mean the concept of Reality that spirit holds. And so the entire word in ancient Egypt referred to a rotating light that would take the spirit and the body from one world into another. I once spent a couple of hours with Credo Mutwa, the spiritual leader of the Zulu tribe in Africa. He explained to me that Merkaba (one word) was a Zulu word meaning a space/time/dimension vehicle. He told me that according to Zulu legend his entire tribe had come from another dimension here to Earth using the Merkaba. In the modern world there are teachers worldwide — and I am one of them — who are helping people remember the Mer-Ka-Ba. Thus begin a process in consciousness that will eventually translate us from the third-dimensional world into the next higher one through what is being called “ascension.” Ascension involves a process where the human body is transformed into light and translated by an incredible birth into a new world. It is achieved through a meditation that requires the mind, heart, body, and spirit to completely integrate in one pattern of light and transcend the human limitations of this reality. This concept of the Mer-Ka-Ba as an ascension vehicle is not new. It is very, very old. mer-ka-ba. What actually is the Mer-Ka-Ba? Technically, it is an electro-magnetic field sitting at about four degrees Kelvin, found primarily within the microwave range — at least in the third dimension — that is entirely geometric in nature. Specifically, the geometry used is called “Sacred Geometry,” as this particular geometry is found in the creation patterns of all things in Creation. merkaba geometry The Mer-Ka-Ba field is extremely complex, involving the five Platonic solids and other sacred polyhedrons. It is believed to extend through all possible dimensional and parallel universes, and can possibly change its nature from electro-magnetic to whatever is appropriate. The blueprint of the Mer-Ka-Ba is found throughout nature, such as in this photo of a galaxy. One of the functions of the Mer-Ka-Ba, as we said, is to act as the vehicle to take the spirit and the body into the next world. However, this function — and most of the other possibilities — is impossible to obtain until something changes within the person. Sombrero galaxyThe Mer-Ka-Ba is situated around the human body like a three-dimensional geometric web that is dormant and nonfunctional, waiting for the right moment. When the spirit that inhabits the body remembers that it is there and begins to change certain aspects of itself, an incredible transformation begins to grow. It was believed in ancient times, and even written about by the Hebrews,[2], that the Merkavah could be turned on by certain principles in meditation. This involves breathing changes, and mind, heart, and body changes that alter the way a person perceives the Reality. From my perspective, it is the beginning of “Enlightenment.” And yet it is clear that the Mer-Ka-Ba can also be “activated,” as the New Agers say, by other methods beside the male-style instructions u

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Writeblr Re-Re-Re-Intro

Hi folks!

It’s been about a year since my last re-intro post, so here’s a mildly updated version that I’ll also pin to my blog.

who am I—

➳ my name is Donovyn! you can call me Donovyn or Don, either is fine. ➳ I’m 31 years old as of this post ➳ I’m Black, neurodivergent, and disabled ➳ I’ll have been married for 9 years in April ➳ I got a neurodivergent kid who’ll be 6 in May ➳ Favorite bands are currently VHS Collection and The Birthday Massacre ➳ I am a masc-leaning non-binary..."human"...my pronouns are they/them ➳ please don’t call me an enby. personal preference. thanks! 

what am I doing—

⤑ The Thriving Series sci-fi | ten installments across two arcs (and one spin-off installment) | The dramatic collision of Orthrive’poliea’s vehicle with a nearby lake upends Warren Cougar’s life more than he ever expected. Along with conspiracies, intergalactic war, and tumultuous dealings with interspace politics, he has to survive a hostile alien army and a semi-omnipotent sentient darkness doing everything in their power to destroy Earth and the rest of the Milky Way—and Thrive’s native galaxy, Andromeda. Navigating their way through seemingly endless battle after seemingly endless battle, Warren and Thrive also find they must navigate themselves as well as their growing relationship with each other.

⤑ The Partners Trilogy historical fiction | three installments (and three spin-off installments) | Reagan Gilmore and Ben Murray have been best friends since early childhood and singer/pianist duo Gilmore & Murray since their mid to late teens. Navigating their professional lives both together and apart throughout the 50s and 60s proves not be nearly as hard as navigating their suppressed feelings for each other over the course of four whole decades. And outside of involuntarily entangling with organized crime, living on separate continents, falling into the traps of depression and drug abuse, and taking their act all over the world, everything is just fine. It’s fine!

⤑ To Annex the Kid Western | first of two | The dusty town of Winslow, Nevada held their golden boy on a pedestal, singing Russell “Kid” Corduroy’s praises and finding him every bit as charming as he was sweet. Until the eve of his twentieth birthday when a traumatic event causes him to pack his things and bolt away on horseback without a word, leaving his family, his friends, and his sweetheart behind for fifteen years. The whispers of the West question his motives, his whereabouts, and whether or not he’s even still alive; meanwhile, he finds much-needed companionship in the company of a band of outcasts operating under the careful leadership of one Jack Stranger. Their ideals clash but one thing they can agree on is that people need to know that someone cares. And perhaps, sometimes, people can care a little too much.

⤑ The Invention of Fire Western/Victorian | second of two | After the dust of Winslow settled, Kid Corduroy and Works McCoy, along with young Cady Joy, set off for a chapter of their own, taking on industrialized civilization and the world of science and engineering. As Kid is dealing with his and Works’ still-new feelings toward each other and tries to navigate his own traumas, Works is called upon to present at a conference in England to discuss the changing American West. But Kid soon discovers everything is not what it seems, and his world is knocked off of its axis almost as soon as it’s been righted.

⤑ Silent Magnets general fiction/historical fiction/romance | standalone | The telling of an alternate dimension; a “what if” story about a love that never was and couldn’t be. A fictionalized tale bringing two souls separated by time and circumstance in the real world together as they should’ve been. Devin moves into the cabin community of Lakewood Forest with one thing in mind, and that's getting as far away from the tragic accident that took their friends as humanly possible. Living alone isn't all bad, and the neighbors are nice enough. One in particular, however, captures their spirit immediately and becomes a fast friend—Everett, another loner who does a rather impressive job of hiding his own tragedy behind a cheerful and warm exterior. We also leap all the way back into 1975, another life, another universe, where Devin and Everett are attempting to navigate the country in search of love and home...which could very well be with each other.

⤑ The Increasingly Disastrous Continued Existence of One Misfortunate Sol historical fiction/murder mystery/thriller/comedy? | standalone | So there’s a guy, an average guy, named Solomon Maxwell Iron and he goes by Sol and boy he is…unfortunate! He’s…well you see, he keeps moving in with strangers because he has nowhere else to live and he doesn’t make much money but his living companions keep having fatal accidents. He’s gone through four roommates…the cops—they don’t like him! He knows he’s innocent but does the detective? Does the big burly detective know? I don’t think so! I think he thinks Sol’s up to no good! Sol’s got no choice but to take a job at a big hotel so he can live there. Detective Calvin Logan follows him there to make sure he doesn’t blow up all of the guests or something and…things get weird! The owner of the hotel basically traps all the guests in the hotel and I don’t know man, something fishy’s going on. Are they evil? Are they just ✧･ﾟ:*eccentric*:･ﾟ✧ and having a fun party? Why are people suddenly getting murdered? Why does it seem like EVERYONE wants to get into Sol’s pants? Where is this going? Do I know? I doubt it!

also?????—

you can buy the first AND SECOND books of the Thriving series!

Thriving on Amazon (paperback and e-book) Thriving on Barnes & Noble.com (paperback only)

Thriving: Destiny on Amazon (paperback and e-book)

[with-my-murder-flute]

Sometimes you just have a really intense week and can’t stop thinking about how much trauma Lan Sizhui experienced by the time he was 5 and how being the Very Best Boy isn’t always healthy and then you need to write Lan Wangji the child psychologist and his incredibly anxious foster-son, y’know?

---

Bunny is on time-out again.

"You have to behave,” A-Yuan says in the voice of the potato-head, packing accessories into its body and shoving it into the bed of a soft plastic truck. “You get in the car now.” The Barbie van is already full, with a dinosaur and a fingerpuppet and one of the new larger Lego figures, and all their carefully packed luggage. A-Yuan does that. Over and over again, for each of his toys, he methodically packs and unpacks luggage. It’s his most common form of play, but not the most enjoyable.

A-Yuan’s breathing is rapid and shallow, so much so that he takes little gasps when he talks to himself. Routinely, predictably, he’s calmer when he turns away from the dollhouse. He’s most collected when selecting items to put into luggage, deciding on pieces of felt and Barbie shoes, but even with the vehicles he can lose himself enjoying the movement and progress of the cars. But underneath it all, there’s a jerkiness to his movements and a certain disconnected quality in his speech and body language that tells Lan Wangji that he’s pretty distressed.

It’s a step forward that Bunny is out at all, Lan Wangji knows. A behaviour therapist at A-Yuan’s last preschool made it a point to extinguish comfort-seeking behaviour towards the toy, which was becoming both careworn and grubby. A-Yuan’s had it at least since he was fourteen months old; it was with him when he came into care. Maybe his birth mother gave it to him. A-Yuan has obediently derogated the toy; if it’s left lying out, he can usually be trusted to throw it into a corner to prove what a big, grown-up boy he is.

Lan Wangji has very carefully gauged his son’s limits of tolerance for some things. When the car ride begins, he waves slightly and says, “Have a nice trip,” which makes A-Yuan glance back at him nervously, but it’s just mild enough, just unemotional enough, just tolerable enough, that it doesn’t provoke too much emotion. A-Yuan can keep pushing his vehicles around, and feel safe enough to drive one into Lan Wangji’s foot. He doesn’t persevere at that point, though; the trip has culminated and he gets up and walks to where he can see down the hallway to the front door, then wanders over to the slide.

A hundred million years ago, Lan Wangji thought he’d be a genetics researcher, like his uncle. Then he thought he’d be a neuroscientist, like his undergraduate thesis advisor. Then he thought he’d be a psychologist like his brother, who focuses entirely on assessment and the development of psychometric tools. For a little bit in grad school, he thought he’d counsel adults, like Wei Wuxian, until a classmate told Wei Wuxian that Dialectical Behavioural Therapy was “objectively badass” and he developed a fixation Lan Wangji could not follow. In retrospect his career path is absolutely obvious, resonating clearly through every bone of him, but it took him a very long time to realize he ought to work with children. It’s a little shocking that he, who was so bad at being a child, feels so prepared to be a father.

He smiles when A-Yuan looks at him anxiously from the slide, the moment of uncertainty as he lets go and begins sliding down triggering the need for reassurance. Lan Wangji is always waiting for that glance, waiting to return it. At A-Yuan’s last placement he’d been assessed as having an avoidant/dismissing attachment style, and despite its uncharitable and parent-shaming nature Lan Wangji can’t help but agree with what his husband had muttered over that one: “Were the parents even trying?”

The most vital task, and the hardest, is being present in the moment with a child. Not worrying about the future, not concerned with the past, not preoccupied with an external standard. He’s surprisingly bad at performing objective assessments with children, because he can see how unfair they all are. His greatest facility is something he built for himself, brick by painstaking brick: the willingness to sit with discomfort, and have faith that the chaos will not remain chaos. All his years of meditation have cultivated a still eye to see the world from, and the faith that patience and compassion will see him through.

Still smiling, still watching A-Yuan, Lan Wangji moves closer to the dollhouse. He carefully stars arranging its contents, righting knocked-over furniture and returning blankets to little wooden beds. He takes out a shark figurine, a couple of doll clothes, then puts Bunny on the floor near his shin. When A-Yuan comes close, magnetically drawn away from the slide, Lan Wangji reaches behind himself for the tea set they were using earlier, arranging cups and plates in front of him as though they’re going to have another tea party. He leaves the placement of the cups ambiguous; it’s not like Bunny is specifically invited, but there is a suggestive proximity, the way the other cup is in proximity to the shark. A-Yuan takes the teapot, and Lan Wangji solemnly holds his cup out while A-Yuan pours. For the sake of the ritual he accepts milk and refuses sugar and mimes stirring his invisible ingredients before taking a sip.

When A-Yuan is done drinking, Lan Wangji turns to Bunny, lifting a cup, and asks, “Would you like some tea?” A-Yuan noticed the moment that Lan Wangji’s hand moves, but as he addresses the rabbit A-Yuan seems to lose interest, which is to say, he slightly dissociates; blink and you missed it, but his eyes go a little glassy, he looks away, and then he acts on the adrenaline and gets up and wanders away.

The current theory about Bunny is like the theory of gravity, which is to say, it’s definitely pretty certain but it never hurts to be humble when it comes to knowledge. It’s honestly a little more speculative and psychodynamic than Lan Wangji is truly comfortable with, and A-Yuan’s case manager, possibly a little defensive over the last preschool placement, absolutely refuses to consider the possibility. But it still feels as essential and true as which way is up that Bunny performs the vital task of holding all the parts of A-Yuan that he blames for making the adults he cares about disappear. Bunny holds both the neediness and the hope for comfort that were so painful, his son shut them down in order to survive. Bunny was how A-Yuan mediated that desire, the source of his comfort, until he was three and a half, and the behaviour therapist.

A-Yuan knew his foster parents didn’t like him being disorganized and distressed and clingy, that they’d rather he behaved more like a six-year-old than four. Which he could, sometimes, because he had a ferocious intelligence which put him cognitively ahead of his emotional development. But he, well... adapted a little too quickly, one might say. Learned his lesson a little too well. Now they’re trying to reignite the behaviours that were extinguished.

Lan Wangji takes a risk, while A-Yuan is pulling picture books off the lower shelf, and lifts Bunny to his shoulder like a colicky infant. He doesn’t do anything else, aside from stroking the rabbit’s fur. He leaves it in place, with a little guiding help from his hand, when A-Yuan brings a Franklin book over and climbs into his lap, demanding to be read to. With interest he notes, halfway through the story, that Lan Wangji holding and petting Bunny doesn’t distress A-Yuan; as the story arc gets as exciting as Franklin books ever do (which is not, to be clear, a criticism) A-Yuan turns in his arms long enough to distractedly reach up and pet Bunny too, before turning back and trying to grab the book for himself.

Wondering how far he can push this, he keeps Bunny in place on his shoulder when they leave the room to check the clock, and A-Yuan goes to the living-room window to watch the street for Wei Wuxian. He looks curiously when Lan Wangji leans down to dig the remote out between the couch cushions, but easily redirects when Lan Wangji turns on the TV and goes to prepare dinner. Having the show on limits his anxious glances out the window to three or four a minute only, instead of sustained attention followed by a meltdown if he had to wait more than five minutes.

Lan Wangji thinks it would be easier to keep Bunny in place, on his shoulder like a dishtowel, if he had weighted plastic beads in his extremities, or if he was velcroed. He’s wary of changing anything about such a strong comfort object, though, so he just learns to move and stand differently to keep the rabbit from constantly falling off.

A-Yuan greets Wei Wuxian with the kind of terrified delight that looks like general indifference if you don’t know better; he runs over, stands uncertainly within arm’s reach of Wei Wuxian’s legs, and then dodges away before Wei Wuxian can reach down to him. Lan Wangji helpfully muted the show when he heard the door open--it gives A-Yuan the space to sit with his back to the room and self-regulate while the adults say hello.

“New friend?” his husband asks finally, an eyebrow raised.

“Modelling it as appropriate,” Lan Wangji says. “I thought perhaps he could tolerate us demonstrating that it is not discouraged.”

“Nice rabbit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says seamlessly, in a voice meant to be heard from the couch. “I like it. Makes me wish I had a rabbit.”

“They are very good friends,” Lan Wangji agrees. “This one is not mine, but he is keeping me company.”

“Nice,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Maybe whoever you borrowed him from will let him hang out with me sometime.”

Their audience does not comment on this, but they didn’t need him to. Wei Wuxian sets the table while Lan Wangji cooks. A-Yuan’s palate is still pretty limited, so he’s used to making three separate elements of one meal, and can live with cutting up cooked hot dog into little coins so long as he doesn’t have to eat them himself. They just supplement their kid’s diet with a multivitamin.

A-Yuan looks askance enough, when dinner is ready, that Lan Wangji takes Bunny off his shoulder and asks, “Where should he sit while we eat?”

There is a fourth chair, albeit completely out of proportion, but he doesn’t dare try it. Instead A-Yuan thinks for a minute, and points to the kitchen counter behind the table. Lan Wangji props Bunny up against the wall, observing dinner if not participating, and after a second to think, A-Yuan accepts this as normal and climbs into his chair. He is meticulously well-behaved.

Lan Wangji aches for his son, and hopes one day he’ll feel confident enough in their love to break the rules around them.

They eat.

[jvnghxope]

jamais vu; memory

part one;

◦ pairing: Hoseok | reader | Taehyung

◦ genre: vamipire au, smut, angst

◦ word count: 13.9k+

◦ warnings: dark themes; mentions of blood and death; vampire compulsion and manipulation; blood consumption; alcohol consumption; hallucinations; strong language; dry humping (sort of), this chapter doesn’t have smut but the next one will!

◦ abstract: In a time when vampires are the most despised creatures in the world, Jung Hoseok finds himself falling in love with a human. Would his love be enough to protect her from the war that is about to begin?

⇥ Sequel to Dalliance; part of the In the Shadows universe.

  ↳ chapters: prologue | memory | remedy | melody

Jung Hoseok stared at the invitation far too long. 

The reason? It had his name and his name only. Which was surprising. He is used to standing behind the shadow that is the Jung Family. He is the youngest son after all, with only 215 years old. 

He has a mission. A mission that was assigned to him by the Elders, which is a great honor. There is a rumor flowing around the Shadow World: a group of humans knew about the existence of vampires (if they knew about the existence of other shadow folks, it was a mystery) and they are slowly uniting to hunt them down. The Elders didn’t give it much of a thought at first. Vampires are stronger and faster than any human after all. There was nothing to worry about, they thought. Not until they found dead bodies of their kind. That is concerning. There are more humans in the world than vampires. Now that they knew how to kill them, their chance to win a fight was not impossible. 

His mission is pretty simple: infiltrate inside the organization, investigate their plan and ruin them from within. How? The rumors say Lord Kim was behind all of it. It is his job to know if that piece of information is true and get to the good side of his younger daughter.

The journey to the Kim Manor from his Family's old home is relatively short, as both of the families lived in the same area of the city. The moment his carriage clattered into the ground of the entryway of the manor, his eyes widened. The Victorian building is surrounded by beautiful Italian gardens and greek gods in statues. 

The vehicle stops with a jolt.  A well-dressed servant opened the door to ease Hoseok out of the carriage. He thanked the peon with a nod. The main entrance is displayed before him. Enormous marble stairs led to a hallway, illuminated with lights made of silver and glass. The natural light of the sun was going down as the dawn took place. It is a beautiful sight, he has to recognize that. 

The carriages drove away, led by a horseman, to a place they could wait for their masters. 

Hoseok follows the people towards the entrance. The excited whispers of the attendees arrived in Hoseok's ears. A ball at the Lord’s Manor is something worthy to remember and the event of the year. Everyone is wearing their best clothes. Dresses made of taffeta, silk, and velvet, and tailored suits. 

It’s the first time he is surrounded by a big crowd of humans. All their emotions come colliding towards him. It took a little while for him to shut them down. His powers are one of the main reasons he enjoyed being in solitude every once in a while. For some reason, human emotions are stronger than any other shadow folk. Being surrounded by a big quantity of humans is exhausting, to say the least. 

Two corpulent men opened the big wooden doors and one by one, the guests entered the manor. In the entry, a group of men is slowly forming a line near a small room, where two young men received their coats, hats, and canes and gave them a label with a number. 

A beautiful lady with a red dress led the guests through a corridor to the ballroom. It is the biggest room in the manor. Big golden chandeliers illuminated the room, giving it a golden light. Three of the four walls had large tables with white silk tablecloths, full of delicacies and the most exotic drinks. 

Upon his arrival to the city, he made some of his peons spread the word that a new wealthy bachelor was in town. That’s how he got his invitation. As he strolls around, Hoseok could hear how the people are whispering about him. They don’t recognize his face, but they know who he was. The town is not relatively small, but wealthy people knew each other. Hoseok is a foreigner in their world.

A round of applause sounded when the Lord made his entry, his beautiful wife clutched by his arm and his firstborn, Kim Namjoon, walking behind them. The Lord gives a speech, thanking the attendees at the 22nd birthday of his daughter, the smallest of his children. To be honest, Hoseok didn’t pay too much attention to the Lord, instead choosing to finish his tasteless champagne and let his eyes wander around the room, rather bored. Then, his eyes fell on you, and wow. 

And he’d be damned. You are the Lord’s daughter. 

The Elders mentioned something about your beauty, but seeing it with his own eyes is something else. It is impossible to believe you are a mortal. Any in the Shadow World could easily mistake you for a vampire. Maybe even a fairy too. You are standing there, with your head held high as all the eyes in the room are laid on you. A smile bright enough to illuminate an entire city and a beautiful green dress hugging your frame. Hoseok couldn’t help but stare in pure awe at you. And he was not the only one. You had the power to draw the attention of everyone in the room. Subconsciously, he notices you opening your mouth. You are saying something. Words that don't reach Hoseok’s ears, too immersed in you.   

Hoseok shakes his head the moment he saw people approaching you. To clear his mind, he takes one of the snacks that looked somewhat tasty and ends in one gulp of the contents of his glass. 

“Jung Hoseok.” 

He is surprised to hear his name and surprised even more to see a familiar face behind the voice. 

“Taehyung," he greets.

His old friend grins, “I know I will hate the answer, but I’ll ask anyway. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m guessing I am not the first one the Elders sent, right?” 

Taehyung chuckles. “They sent me a month ago,” he confesses. 

“What did you use as cover?” 

“I used compulsion. They believe I am the son of a distant family friend that just returned to the city,” Taehyung replies with a sly smile. “I suppose I am not doing a good job if they sent you.” 

Hoseok snorts. “They are getting desperate.”

“And they should. Things are worse than we’ve imagined.”

“Did you discover something new?” Hoseok asks, taking another cup of champagne. 

Taehyung scans the room as he feigned drinking from his cup, making sure there was no one in ear-shot. “They have new allies,” he informs. 

“Who?”

Taehyung turns to his friend. Hoseok doesn’t need to use his ability to understand how bad this. He can perceive Taehyung’s worry behind his perfectly collected smile. “Werewolves.”

With his eyes, Taehyung points to one of the guests. Hoseok follows, only to find a young man talking to no other than Lord Kim himself. Hoseok’s jaw clenches, “The Jeons.” 

One of the oldest werewolf families and an enemy to vampires. 

“Have you informed it yet?” Hoseok asks. The Jeon boy is now talking to Namjoon. 

“Not yet. I am close to being invited to the group. My every move is being monitored.”

“The dog didn't recognize you?" Hoseok mocked. 

At that, Taehyung laughed. “We haven’t crossed pads. But he is young. I don’t think he could recognize a Pureblood if he wanted to.” They share a laugh. 

Hoseok manages to keep his eyes out of you for almost an hour, talking to Taehyung, making fun of werewolves, and catching up. It is like a little escape from the reality they are currently living. Like the old times, when things were less complicated. But you are a magnet and his eyes can’t help but look at you every once in a while. 

"Should I introduce myself?" Hobi asks his best friend out of nowhere. He takes his 15th cup of the night (or was it the 16th? He can’t tell) as he waits for an answer. Human alcohol is not supposed to affect him, but he feels a little tipsy. 

With cheeks flushed, Taehyung turns to look at him, “Who?”

“Ms. Kim.” 

“Ahh,” Taehyung nods. “If you want to… Be my guest. But be careful. There are eyes and ears everywhere. But there’s something a need to tell you first-" 

"Mr. Jung," a voice says. 

His heart jumps at the sound of his name, and when he turns around, you are standing in front of him.

Hoseok never stood up too fast (humanly possible, of course), "Ms. Kim."

Wow, you are more beautiful up close. Your eyes look so bright the stars would be jealous. The color of your dress and the candlelight make your skin glow beautifully. Then, your scent fills his nostrils and his throat goes dry. Intoxicating and addictive. It makes his head spin. He gets why Taehyung wanted to warn him: you are dangerous… and somehow he doesn’t find himself to care at all. 

“I believe we are not properly introduced,” you add with a smile. 

“My apologies,” Hoseok bows slightly and outstretches his arm. Taking your hand in his, he gives it a little peck. Your skin feels so soft against his palm. “My name is Jung Hoseok.” 

“Is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jung. Thank you so much for coming to my ball.” 

“I guess I should thank you instead, for inviting a total stranger.” 

You giggle and it is a melody he doesn’t want to forget. “There are a lot of strangers here.” 

Hoseok opens his mouth, the perfect retort in the tip of his tongue and-

“___?” Kim Namjoon interrupted. “Father is looking for you.” Namjoon didn’t bother to look at Hoseok’s way, which he finds incredibly offensive. But wait, why does he care?

You nod at your brother but your eyes never leave Hoseok.

“Well, Mr. Jung, it was nice to meet you. I hope we can talk again sometime. Maybe over a cup of coffee.” 

“It will be my pleasure,” Hoseok replies with a bow. 

And you disappear with your brother through the crowd. 

You hate these types of parties. They are full of shallow people. They give you the attention you didn’t want and being your birthday is the cherry on the cake. People are there more because of your father rather than because of you. It is something you are used to. People surrounding you because of your father’s power. 

Your brother isn't of help, either. According to the girls your mother made you drink tea two times a week, he is handsome and the best gentleman they could ask for. And as much as you believe every word, you are also sure they only wanted him because he would inherit the royal title of the family and a couple of millions. They are nice to you only because you were his sister. 

"Are you using your mountain ash necklace?" Is the question of your father the moment you arrived where he was and you reply with a nod. "Good. Those bloodsuckers could be anywhere." 

“Dad...” 

“Also,” it is like you didn’t talk at all. “I made some pawns fill the champagne with mountain ash, too. Open your eyes for the symptoms.” 

“What symptoms?”

“This is like poison to all the monsters out there. If you see something suspicious –” 

"–Honey, we're celebrating your daughter's birthday,” your mother grimaces. “Keep that stuff to your reunions." Then, she turned to you, "Sweetie, it's time to open the dance floor." She delivers a kiss to your cheek and urged you to enter the dance floor, where the guests are waiting with inquisitive stares. 

It is a tradition in the royal families when a lady turned 21 to dance with all the bachelors. Like a greeting to society, the part you are anticipating the less. You are about to dance with a bunch of strangers you are not interested in at all. 

With a forced smile, you compel yourself to walk across the room to the center of the circle the guests just made for you. A man is already waiting for you. The heir of the Jeon Family: Jeon Yongmin. 

Great. He is currently the favorite of your parents to bethrow you into marriage. You can't complain, though. He is attractive (really, really attractive), he will inherit a fortune of his own and he is nice to you for being you and not because you had "Kim" attached to your name. He praises you and says how beautiful you look tonight. It is safe to say you enjoyed the few minutes you danced with him. You are finally enjoying the ball. 

But the pleasurable feeling doesn't last. The other bachelors made you feel like you didn't matter, like you were a simple object, asking questions related to your family or not talking at all. 

Dizzy and in desperate need of an escape, you fantasize about kicking some of them and run for dear life. But before you could put your plan into action, a familiar warmth spreads inside your body when no other than Kim Taehyung takes your hand. The smile of your best friend is enough to alleviate the pressure in your chest.  

"You look gorgeous today. I didn't have the opportunity to mention it earlier." 

He always knows how to soothe your nerves. 

"Thank you. You look handsome today." 

A smirk rose on his face. "I always look handsome." 

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. The girls in here are either drooling for you, for my brother, or both." He giggles. “I didn’t know you were close to Mr. Jung.” 

Taehyung clears his throat, “Yeah. Our families have a business together. I haven’t seen him in 5 years.” 

You hum. “He seemed… nice.” 

Taehyung raised a brow. He couldn’t comment on your statement and the next bachelor arrives. The next two gentlemen are just as boring, with nothing to say and lacking a good personality. You wonder how many more you need to dance with. Then, a tingle runs down your spine as the other man grabs your hand. You are face to face with Jung Hoseok. 

“Mr. Jung,” you greet, suddenly out of breath. 

“Milady. We meet again.” He looks stunning. Dark brown hair parted effortlessly over his forehead, dimpled smile, and honey skin. He holds your body tightly against his chest and your cheeks flushed. Even when you have danced with at least 20 men in the course of the evening, no one has held you like this. So…intimate. Not even Yongmin, whom you'd soon are to become his fiance. Not even Taehyung, who you already knew and have a friendship with. 

To distract yourself, you attempt to make conversation with the man. “What brings you to our little Hylia, Mr. Jung?” 

“My family has some properties here and I wanted some fresh air,” he responds, all his attention devoted to you. His eyes are intense and alluring. He smells like sandalwood and musk. He dances effortlessly, not paying attention to the steps. You? You are repeating the steps in your brain so you wouldn’t screw up in front of everyone. He is that distracting. He swirls you again and when your eyes return to his face, his eyes are red. You blink and it’s gone, a pair of chocolate eyes looking at you. 

You smack yourself internally. Your dad is driving you crazy. Just because he sees vampires everywhere he goes, you don’t need to follow that path. 

“I hope we made a good impression,” you say before you embarrass yourself further. 

“You did,” he smiles and squeezed your hand, reassuring you. 

The music is slowly fading, coming to an end, both relieving and disappointing. You wish you had more time to talk to him. A round of applause echoes in the room and you and Hoseok bow to each other. Before you could leave the dance floor, a new song starts playing. Panicked, you observe how other couples enter the dance floor, and if you desire to get out of here, you have less than 10 seconds to run or -

“Do you want some fresh air?” Hoseok whispers against your ear, stopping your meltdown. Without so much thought, you agree and let him lead you out of the crowd. He intertwines his fingers with you so naturally. Like they belong together. Your hand and his. You giggle all the way to the hallway. 

“I don’t know where to go,” he turns to look at you, embarrassed. You can't help but laugh at that. He looks cute, all flustered. 

“Follow me.” 

It is your turn to draw him through the maze of rooms, doors, and corridors you call home. There is a series of small balconies facing the backyard and protected from sight by a large curtain. The moment you step outside, you let go of his hand and take a deep breath. It is nice to feel the chilly air against your skin. You relax both arms in the cold metal of the fence and watch the stars that are slowly rising in the sky as the sun fades away. 

"I hope the ball was not boring to you, Mr. Jung,” you mumble and when you look at him, his eyes are already on you. 

"Of course not. It was… pleasant." 

There were very few candles on the balcony and most of the light is provided by the moon. The moonlight makes his features sharper, especially the curve of his jaw. Then, your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are glowing. Perhaps you drank more than you remember, because the next time you blink, the glow is gone. 

It is official. You are slowly losing your mind. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured. 

“P-pardon?”

He clears his throat, “The view of the garden is… quite majestic.” 

Your cheeks flushed. For a moment, you thought he was talking about you. “Yes. It is my favorite place in the whole manor.” 

He takes the final steps and stands next to you. 

"Excuse me if I am noisy, but you don't seem to enjoy the ball that was made especially for you, Ms. ___." 

“What made you think that?” You raise a brow, waiting for his answer. 

“Well, there’s a bunch of people that came for you and you are here, talking with a stranger.” 

A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you shake your head, “It may be my birthday, but it is just another ball with the same people, the same food, the same music and most of the guests are here because of my father. I don't tend to sound like an ungrateful child, but sometimes I get tired of this world. Does that make sense?" 

You play with your fingers to avoid looking at him. You feel really comfortable around him. Like you can tell him anything and he won't judge you. 

"I don't have many friends. Taehyung is one of the few to be around me because of me and not because I am the Lord's daughter. I have known him for a while now." You finally summon the courage to look at him. He gives you a sympathetic look, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with my problems, Mr. Jung." 

“On the contrary, I am glad you trusted in me,” he says with a smile. “I hope that from now on, you can consider me as a friend, too.” 

He leans closer, making your heart beat a little faster.

“Then, we should drop the formalities. Don’t you think?” 

Something unreadable crosses his expression, but it is gone before you can pinpoint what it was. Instead, he beams at you. “You must call me Hoseok, then.” 

“Well, Hoseok,” you enjoy the way his name rolls off your tongue. “I enjoyed our little time together. But I must return. My mother is probably already looking for me.” 

“I hope we can meet again sometime.”

You walk to the entrance of the manor but before you get in, you turn around. Your heart jumps inside your chest. His eyes are still fixed in you, the air ruffling his hair in the most endearing of ways. He is breathtakingly beautiful. 

"Good night, Hoseok," you murmur and open the door to get inside. 

"Good night, ___," he whispers back. 

You don't see the soft smile that stretched across his lips. 

Hoseok never understood humans. 

They are weak and fragile yet they enjoy living their lives to the fullest. They don’t care. Some vampires despise humans. They are shallow, greedy, and easy to compel. They only served for two things: make them do your dirty work and feed on them if necessary. But not all vampires are bad. Some of them chose to be in the world, surrounded by humans. They understood they needed them to survive. They make subjugates and sometimes turned their couples into vampires. 

Love is not a common word to vampires. Blood is the most important thing. Blood means power. 

Some vampires have 'special' abilities and they got stronger generation by generation. For example, his father has enhanced speed and was stronger than a normal vampire. His mother can feel other people's feelings and emotions and manipulate them in some way. He and his brother inherited both abilities, but the increased speed and strength are stronger on his brother, and the ability to feel emotions is stronger in Hoseok. 

Hoseok never understood humans and was never interested in them.  That changed when he met you. 

You are different. He doesn’t know how to explain. You are like a magnet and he will happily follow you around. He is intrigued. He never met someone who felt as strong as you. He remembers the annoyance and the sadness you felt when you trusted him with your thoughts. It was like the emotions were his. Not even the shield is enough to keep them away from him. He was surprised by the force of them and he found himself wanting to make you feel better. The mission and the reason behind his presence in that ball forgotten since the moment he touched you the first time. 

And he wants to see you again. 

Dear Ms. Kim ___ 

Ever since we met, I'm not able to stop thinking about you. I hope this doesn’t seem too presumptuous, but I would like to see you again. I'll take a walk at the park on 5th Avenue this Friday. I'll be honored if you join me. 

I'll wait for you at the fountain at 4pm. 

JHS 

His desk is full of balls of paper and letters stained with ink. It's a mess. He had been writing the same message for the past hour with no good results. He has never sent a message to a beautiful girl before. He is well known inside the Shadow World and women approached him first many times. He is relatively new at this. What he is supposed to write?

His main manservant is with him all the time and he has been laughing at his expense rather than being of any help the entire morning. After an hour or so, he managed to write a decent enough message. He lets out a sigh in satisfaction. The letter seems perfect. He reads it again a couple of times before placing the family seal in one corner and hand it to a servant that will deliver it as soon as possible.  

That Friday, Hoseok arrives at the park a little early. He feels a little uneasy, his stomach churning, his palms are sweating and he can not standstill. These sensations are what humans describe as butterflies in their stomachs. Why they enjoyed it so much? It feels awful! 

And then you arrive. Looking as gorgeous as the last time he saw you. You are wearing a light blue and pretty day-dress. Four men accompany you, not living your side for a split second. Guards. 

His heart may or may not have stopped the moment your face illuminated when you see him. 

"I must say, I was surprised by the invitation," you murmur when he was at ear-shot, stretching your gloved arm that he happily receives and kissed in welcoming. 

"Would your guards let you take a walk with me?" 

You grin. 

"So, tell me more about you,” you ask, clutching your arm around his. He can feel the excitement pumping through your veins.  

“About me?” 

You nod.

“I feel like we only talked about me at my birthday ball. I want to know more about you." 

Hoseok remains quiet for a while, pondering on what he could tell you. As you keep walking, the trees start to be closer to each other and the sunlight is slowly fading. The darkness on this part of the park adds a mysterious aura and it is a little chilly. You hug your shawl closer as you wait for his answer. 

“I used to live with my parents and older brother. We left Hylia a long time ago, but I wanted to come back. I have good memories of this place. The manor we used to live in is not so far from yours, actually. I've been preparing to take over the… family business. You know, appointments with business associates and clients.” 

You hum, “And all your family is a vampire or just you?”

Hoseok chokes on his spit and stops on his tracks. You eye him curiously, a hint of a smile on your lips. You know his secret and you don’t seem to fear him. You were blunt about it and asked him directly. That takes courage. You are not nervous. Not even scared. That confuses him by no means. He can’t tell if that is a good sign or a bad sign. 

“What?” you ask, a little impatient because he hasn’t confirmed your suspicions yet. “Do I need to pretend I don’t know what you are?” 

Hoseok had three options: one, feign ignorance and take it as a joke (even when he was sure it is not); two, use compulsion to make you forget this day; or three, go with it. 

“Since when do you know?” 

Yep, he chose the third. 

“The day we met,” you confess, leaving Hoseok surprised. If you already knew what he was, why you accepted his invitation? Why not send men to catch him and lock him down? You were not walking anymore but your arms were still clutched together. You don’t seem uncomfortable and your emotions are anything but negative towards him. It is so confusing. 

“Can I ask how you figured it out?” He says after a while. 

Your eyes narrow. “I don’t if I can trust you. You could be the enemy…” 

He is the enemy. At least to your family. 

“Yet, you are still here,” he points out with a smile.

He now sensed the uncertainty –and fear?– slowly creeping inside your body. He can hear how rapid your heartbeat is. A part of him is relieved you were having a normal human reaction after all. The other part of him is… disappointed. 

“I am not going to hurt you,” he says, wanting to place his hand over yours to assure you but choosing to not doing so. 

“I-I know,” you manage to say, eyes glued to the ground to avoid looking at him. “If you wanted to hurt me, you already would have.” 

He raises an eyebrow. You are smart. He never doubted it. 

He is not proud of what he is about to do, but he has no other choice. 

“Come,” he calls and leads you to a bench so you could sit down. You follow his lead without much trouble. As subtle as he can (so you don’t notice your sudden behavior change), he eases your nerves, listening to how your ragged breath slows and how the erratic thump of your heart decreases to normal levels. 

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine,” he offers. “Deal?”

Then, you finally turn your face to him, “How can I know you would not go and tell our secrets to your vampire friends? We are not entirely hopeless…” 

“Fair enough,” he concedes, “I guess you just need to trust me, ___.”

He does what he does best: being charming. It is not a difficult task as allure practically drips from his pores. Being a Pureblood, the allure is twice as strong. He doesn’t need to use compulsion to get what he wanted from a human. At least most of the time. His natural charming personality, incredibly good looks, and vampire-allure aura doesn’t do the trick with you. So, he does a little cheating: he enhances all the good feelings you have for him. Trust, comfortableness, all the emotions that could make you trust him. 

It passes several minutes before you take a deep breath, your mind made up. 

“Ok,” you agree. You fidget on your seat and chew on your lower lip. Hoseok can sense the uncertainty. It is still there, but not as strong. You take your time. That story had been in your family for generations. It is hard to tell it to someone from outside. Foreign. It is prohibited. You take a deep breath. “My family… Well, specifically my grandfather, formed a group with the sole purpose to eradicate the evil of this world. He was attacked by a vampire and left for dead when he was 20 years old. A warlock saved him. Since then, he decided to study your kind and hunt them down.

“On his studies, my grandfather found something vampires were weak to mountain ash. Since then, my family has built an entire business from it. They created jewelry with it so vampires couldn’t use their mind control on us. 

“That day, at my birthday ball, my father sprinkled some mountain ash over the champagne in hopes it would reveal vampires within us.” 

Hoseok frowns. That would explain the buzz he felt during that night. Oh, he is in trouble. Humans know way more than they expected. Humans have leverage against his kind. He needs to find out how strong this leverage is. 

“Are you wearing a mountain ash necklace right now?”

You nod, “I always wear one.”

He hums. He could use his powers a moment ago just fine. Maybe the amount of ash is not enough to shield you from his powers or it doesn’t work with Purebloods at all. Is he going to reveal that information to you? No. It is not the end of the world. Yet. 

“So, how did you notice?” he urges.

“Your eyes. When we were dancing, they turned red. It was just for a second. I thought I was hallucinating. But it happened again when we were on the balcony. My father a long time ago told me that vampires have crimson eyes as the color of the blood that runs inside our veins. That is how you recognize a monster.”

You definitely are smart. “You are something else, Ms. Kim,” he praises and your cheeks feel warm. “If you knew already what I was, why didn’t you tell your father?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I was curious about your kind. My father always says vampires are bad, but when we met, you had an opportunity to hurt me and you didn’t. Curiosity got the best of me,” you laugh, embarrassed. “It runs in the family.” 

Hoseok can’t help but smile. Is it wrong to feel honored because you trusted him enough to come? “To answer your previous question,” he says after a while. “I am a born vampire. All my family is.” 

You look at him with wide eyes but there are no signs of fear in them. Only genuine curiosity. “How old are you?” 

“I stopped physically aging when I turned 24. I am 215 years old,” he confesses with a tiny grin, watching carefully for your reaction. You do not disappoint. Your eyes bulge out of your orbits and he let out a soft chuckle. 

You clear your throat, "That is a lot…" 

Hoseok wonders how you would react if he tells you his parents have been alive for over millennia. 

"Do you have more questions?" He teases and you pout. 

"I have a lot. Can you handle that, Mr. Jung?

"I thought we agreed to call us for our first name, ____." He leans forward, looking directly into your eyes and enjoying how you flush.  

“Fine. Do you sleep in covens?” 

He lets the loudest laugh you have ever heard of and you do your best to not look beyond offended. 

“Is that really your question?” 

“Well, excuse me. We don’t know much about your kind and I am sure what we know is wrong,” you pout and his heart flips. He can feel your embarrassment and frustration. 

“No, we don’t sleep in covens,” he responds at last. 

“Do you sleep at all?” 

“Yes, in beds where you can do more than sleeping," he flirts shamelessly.

You ignore him.

“What about mirrors, garlic, and holy water?

“Do you people really believe that?”   

You nod and start chuckling because if he put it that way, humans were not that clever. It is the first time he heard you laugh and he is fascinated. 

"My bathroom is practically made of mirrors. Garlic is my favorite condiment and Holy water is just… water."

You snort, "See? What we know is all wrong…" 

He wants to take your hand, but he knows it won’t be appropriate. 

“What about the sun?” you continue. “You are literally under the sunlight and unbothered. Does it affect you at all?" 

Hoseok grins, "No." 

The rest of the evening you keep asking him all your doubts and he is happy to respond. By the end of the evening, you know more about vampires and the Shadow World than any of your family or the Association. 

"I believe I have kept you long enough, Ms. Kim. Your guards are probably worried." 

"Oh, dear," you notice for the first time how dark this part of the park is. "Time goes by so fast when I talk to you, Mr. Jung." 

And you giggle. 

He leads you to your carriage and is funny the look of relief your guards have the moment they see you. 

Before you get inside, you turn around. "Will I see you again?" 

He nods, "Soon."

You are used to your life. Is all kinds of boring. Every part of your daily life is a routine, a schedule to follow. You can't make decisions concerning yourself by yourself. They always have told you what to do, what to wear… and there were tons of rules on how to walk, stand, eat and talk properly. It is exhausting. 

Not everything is bad. You have your brother, Namjoon, Taehyung, and your friends. Their presence made your life easier and a lot more bearable. But they don't always provide the break you needed and craved. They are still part of the world you sometimes hated. They have their own schedules and rules to follow. It somewhat consoled you (and you hated yourself for that) that it seemed their lives were not under their control either. At least you are not totally alone. 

The first breath of fresh air was when you first met Taehyung. He was new, funny and so, so charming. He is the first man to notice you. He is different. 

And then, you met Jung Hoseok. 

He is a vampire. In the words of your father, a monster. He can suck your blood and leave you dry. He can corrupt your soul. 

Then, why do you feel more alive since you met him? 

With him, you were not Kim ____, the daughter of Lord Kim, with tons of responsibilities to fulfill. With him, you are just ____. A normal girl hanging out with a normal guy. A normal guy who also happened to be a vampire. 

And you are in trouble. 

Behind closed doors, the members of your family are self-proclaimed vampire hunters. They built a secret association with their ideals. They reunited at least once a month to talk about weapons and the best way to kill vampires. At least that’s what Namjoon told you one day and he refuses to tell you more because you're a woman and you don’t need to know these things. 

You may or may not have told him a couple of words that are inappropriate for a young debutante. 

“What color of dress would you want for tonight, Mrs. Kim?” Lisa, your lady in waiting, asks as he finishes the last touches on your hair. 

Looking yourself in the mirror, you sigh. “I think I’ll go with the blue one, with details in silver.” 

Lisa nods and motions the other ladies to bring the dress. It is still inside the box, newly designed for you. 20 minutes later, you are waiting for your family in the hall near the staircase. 

The Social Season started a couple of weeks ago and tonight the Lovelace family is throwing their annual ball. All the elite in Hylia has an invitation. A part of you hopes you’ll see Mr. Jung there. 

Your brother arrives 5 minutes later. 

“Father won’t come with us,” he says, using one of the mirrors on the left wall to adjust his already perfectly styled hair. “He has matters to attend.” 

“You mean matters of the Association.” 

He turns to you with a tight smile, “Yes. Mother is on her way and we can go.” 

“Ok.” 

The Lovelace Manor is not that far from yours, so the moment your mother is ready, the ride doesn’t take long. It is still early, but there are already a lot of people in the entranceway. Namjoon leads you inside. All the eyes are on you the moment you enter. You know your brother is handsome. He is. You resist the urge to laugh when almost all the debutantes at the Lovelace ball room break their necks to have at least a glance of your brother. He is a good match. He will be the next Lord Kim. All eyes are on him. 

And you? Besides being under Namjoon’s shadow, the pins holding your hair place are stabbing your scalp, you can’t endure standing on those heels any longer and your face hurts from the fake smile you were taught to always wear in public. 

But other than that, it can be worse. 

“Would you be okay if I leave you for a while? I want to have a dance with Mrs. Lovelace,” your brother questions and he has these sparkly eyes that make it really hard to say no. 

“Go.” 

He grins, showing his killer dimpled smile. He gives you and your mother a quick peck on the cheek and disappears through the crow, with a couple of eyes still glued to his frame. It seems that Ms. Lovelace is the lucky girl. She is nice. A year older than you. Her family meets all your parent’s standards and she is beautiful. The perfect sister-in-law. 

You spot a red-head near the dance floor. You wave your mother goodbye and walk toward your best friend. 

She beams at you the moment she recognizes you. She is wearing a white dress with gold details. 

"My father wants me to marry that Lightwood kid. Can you believe it?" She says in greeting. 

"Joseph? He is cute." 

She scoffs, "Please. We grew up together. He is like my brother," she dismisses with a flick of her hand and takes a cup of champagne from one of the trays. "What about you? I heard the date of your wedding with Jeon Yongmin is already set." 

You snort, "He hasn't proposed yet. Our parents are still… talking." 

"Your wedding is going to be pretty. Big and pretty." 

"Shut up." 

She giggles. She has the perfect retort ready, a retort that dies on her tongue when someone clears their throat behind you. Joseph Lightwood is standing behind you, with a lopsided smile tinting his lips but he looks a little nervous too.

“Would you join me for this dance, Ms. Carstairs?” He offers his hand. 

Despite all her rant and ‘he is like my brother’ thing, she blushes. You gnaw at your lip to avoid the smile. They would look cute together. You observe them walk to the dance floor. 

You don’t get to spend much time in solitude after your friend’s departure, as one bachelor asks you to dance too. Mr. Morgenstern (or was it Morgentain?) is a tall man with hair so blonde it is almost white and rigid facial expressions. Like a statue, chiseled by the best artist. He is attractive, but he is not your type of attractive. 

When you know the steps like the back of your hand, it is easy to get lost in the dance. You don’t need to put all your attention on it to do it right. You flutter your eyes shut. You get lost in your thoughts. You imagine that the skin of the hand that twirls you around is softer. The shoulders where you place your hand are a little less broad. You can imagine that the man dancing with you is not blonde, but brunette. The eyes crimson as the color of blood… 

You open your eyes. 

Hoseok is here and he is watching you. 

The world stops. You can no longer hear the music. The people around you disappear. It is only you and him. You both stand there, watching each other. He is so captivating. You have the urge to go to him, to touch him but he is so far. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

Once. Twice. Three times. 

The next time you blink, he is closer. Looking at you with his crimson eyes and a tiny smirk on his lips… Are those... fangs?

The world resumes and it is turning upside down. You are falling but before you touch the ground, a pair of arms grab you by the waist. 

“Are you okay?” Mr. Morgenstern asks as he helps you on your feet. He looks worried and you offer him a smile. 

You are still on the ball. The music is still playing. People are still around you but they stopped dancing. Now, they are watching you. 

“Yeah. I guess all the twirling and the champagne are not a good combination,” you laugh awkwardly. "Thank you." 

With a smile, he leads you out of the dance floor to a chair. You look around, searching for Hoseok, but you don't see him. Was he a product of your imagination? 

"You okay?" Namjoon appears out of nowhere when you sit down. 

You nod, "I am just a little dizzy." 

There is no point to try to calm your brother. He is already worried. 

"I have arranged a room for you if you want to lay down and rest for a bit," Ms. Lovelace is behind him. "You look a little pale…"

You open your mouth to deny the offer because you are fine but before you can say something, Namjoon is grabbing you by the hand and sliding an arm around your waist to help you stand up. 

"Come on," he says and there is no room to fight. 

He leads you through the ballroom and you want to comment on the fact that he knows his way through the house pretty well. He opens then one of the many doors in the hallway and urges you inside. The room is pretty, with a single bed and a small couch in the corner. 

“You can stay here until you feel better,” Namjoon states. “If you feel worse, call me and we will go home.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

With that, he leaves you alone and sends you a smile before closing the door. Once you are alone, you let out a sigh. After some deliberation, you choose to sit on the couch instead of the bed. Your legs feel weak and you are not sure why. You go over the events of the night. Does some vampire use compulsion on you? If so, why you? You are the daughter of the leader of the organization that will fight against vampires, but you don’t know anything. You can’t go to meetings and Namjoon barely tells you anything. You will be no use if they try to use compulsion to get information and you are supposed to be protected by the mountain ash in your necklace. But someone is trying to mess with your mind and is working. Doesn’t the ash work as your family always thought? Does that mean that you don’t have protection against them anymore? 

You don’t get to dwell on the matter much longer, because someone is knocking on the door. With a sigh, you stand from the couch and open the door. 

You gasp. It’s him. With messy hair and slightly agitated, Jung Hoseok is standing in front of you. To make sure it is really him, you take a step forward and place your open palm against his chest. It feels solid and warm. 

“Are you really here? Is it really you?” you ask, in a trance.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he looks concerned and that calms you a little bit. 

“Nothing, I…” you start, and then you notice that your hand is still pressing against his chest. You remove it immediately. “I’m sorry.” 

He chuckles, dismissing the matter like it's nothing. “May I come in?”

You nod and move from the door. 

“Are you feeling better? I saw you faint earlier.” 

Your eyes grow wide, “You saw that?” 

Then you didn’t imagine it. He was there. You start to giggle, relieved. You are not losing your mind, after all. “I’m fine. My brother exaggerated. I had too much champagne to drink and danced a lot. That’s all.” 

He raises his brow, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Are you sure?” Out of nowhere, he takes a step forward and cups your head with both hands. “You still look a little pale…” 

He is so close you lose the ability to think, talk, or breathe. His fingertips caress the skin softly. Before you know it, he is pushing you inside the room again and closes the door behind him. All without taking his hands from your face. Your eyes are glued to his. At some point, his eyes stopped being the chocolate color you know, and started to morph into a crimson color. It is both exciting and terrifying. Then, his eyes fall to your lips and your heart jumps. 

“What are you doing to me?” he whispers. 

You are about to ask him what he means, but suddenly you are knocked off your feet and your body is pressed between his body and the nearest wall. 

“You are distracting me. I have a responsibility to my kind. I had a mission and the only thing I can think about is you.” He emphasizes his words with a gentle caress to the skin of your neck, earning a gasp from your lips. He uses one of his arms to hug you by the waist and pull you closer (if that is even possible). "Your scent is intoxicating. Your skin is so tender," he murmurs last words with his lips pressed against your jawline. 

Your body feels like it is in overdrive. Every fiber is on fire. He takes his time to worship both sides of your jawline with kisses, licks, and nips. You rest your head against the wall to give him more access. It is clear where he wants to go but he moves slowly, taking his sweet time with you, nibbling at your earlobe and moving through your cheek. He is giving you the time to ask him to stop if that's what you want. But your mind is full of him, full of the feeling of his lips against your skin. You want more. 

With his free hand, he raises yours to rest them on his shoulders. 

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs. "Can I kiss you?" 

You nod and he presses his lips against your own. 

There is a moment when everything stills as time stopped. He is allowing you to push him away and when you don’t, he cups your face with his free hand and deepens the kiss. This is new territory for you. You only have kissed a man in your life and it was nothing like this. It was a year ago, with a man you thought you loved. It only lasted a second. It was just a press of lips and nothing more. 

This is different. 

Hoseok is kissing you with slow, languid strokes, taking his time to savor you. Fingers digging your skin, he presses his body tightly against yours and you hug him, not wanting to let him go. He tastes like champagne and something inherently his. It’s the sweetest thing. He swipes with his tongue your lower lip and you grant him entrance. He explores the crevice of your mouth as a man starved. 

You have never felt like this, so overwhelmed and full of emotions you can’t comprehend. He bites your lip and tugs it with his teeth and you gasp in pain. With his tongue, he licks the wound and when the only droplet of blood reaches his taste buds, he groans. 

“You taste divine,” he murmurs against your mouth and proceeds to kiss you fiercely, almost bruising. And then, he stops. He rests his forehead on yours as you both regain your breath. “You don’t understand how much I want you, how much I desire you…” 

He takes your left hand that is comfortably resting on his shoulder and kisses your knuckles. When your eyes flutter open, it's like a bucket of cold water washes over you. His eyes are crimson red and his fangs are exposed. He is staring at your wrist like it holds all the answers. He is lost in his bloodlust and desire. He leans in, his fangs just mere millimeters away from piercing your skin… 

“Stop,” you say and he does. His crimson eyes meet yours and you hold your breath. “Please, don’t.” Your voice is just above a whisper. 

The next ten seconds of your life are the longest, but he finally puts your hand down. 

“Don’t worry. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.” 

He caresses your cheek with his thumb. If he notices the shiver when he touches your skin, he doesn’t mention it. In a blink, he is on the other side of the room. 

“I think we should return to the ball,” he says while arranging his suit. His perfectly styled hair is a mess now and you blush. It’s because of you.  

With a nod, you walk to look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t recognize yourself. Cheeks flushed, messy hair and lips swollen. Even your dress is untidy. Now that you are not distracted with Hoseok’s lips on yours, you notice the sting of the pins against your scalp. It takes you a few minutes to look decent again. When you finish, you turn around. 

“Do I look okay?” you ask him. He is laying on the couch, with his eyes fixed on you. 

“You always look beautiful. Should we go?” he stands from the couch and offers his hand. You hesitate for a few seconds but take it anyway. He leads you out of the room to the ball, where you will dance all night, drink more champagne and have the best night of your life. 

Time's perception is something different for vampires than it is for humans. Ten years for vampires are 1 year for humans, and as time goes by, the longer you live the less you care about the simplest things.

Hoseok has traveled all over the world, read thousands and thousands of books, met all kinds of people… and yet, he hasn't fallen in love at least once. He doesn't know how it feels. 

He has had partners, yes, but only for feeding or sexual releases. There was not any type of intimacy and he didn't care.

And you? 

You are the first human he feels attracted to. You are the first thought he has every morning when he wakes up and the last he thinks when he goes to bed. You are the female lead on every book he reads and he finds himself daydreaming about you all the time. He wonders every day what are you doing or if you are doing okay. All those nights, when he holds you close as you dance all night, are graven inside his mind for all eternity. 

It has been a little over a month since the incident at the Lovelace ball. The night when he first tasted your blood. It was just a tiny droplet and still, it drove him mad at how divine it was. But as good as that was, it is still printed in his mind the way you flinched when he touched you after. He almost lost control and you were afraid of him. For the first time in a long time, he felt embarrassed to be a vampire, the monster you and your family proclaimed he was. He didn’t want you to fear him and as selfish and shameful it was, he used his powers again to take your fear away and make you feel better. At first, he was using his powers to get on your good side for the sake of the mission. Now, he wants to be on your good side because he is slowly falling into you. 

"Excuse me, my Lord," his main butler interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Kim is here and wants to talk to you."

One of his favorite books of all time is resting on his lap, but he hasn't been able to concentrate enough to understand a single word, so he closes it.

"Let him in," he replies with a sigh, placing the book on the table as he stood from the couch he was comfortably seated. The butler nods and disappears through the door.

Ten minutes later, Kim Taehyung enters the room. 

“Long time no see my friend,” Hoseok greeted him with a smile he didn't return. 

“I think we can skip the formalities.” 

Hoseok frowns. "Okay, then. What are you doing here?" He walks to his mini bar and places two ice cubes inside two glasses. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks his friend as he pours a dark gold liquid. Maybe a drink will ease his nerves a little. 

"No, I am okay. Thank you,” he dismisses with the back of his hand. “I came to ask you to stay away from ____." 

“Straight to the point, I see.” 

He turns to look at him. His face is impassive, not letting anything slide. He tries to read his emotions with no luck. A long time ago, Taehyung learned how to hide his feelings when he was around him. He hates it so much, especially when he is uncertain of the situation, which only concerns him further. 

“Why?” he asks, annoyance slowly growing inside his chest. 

“It is best for her not to be caught up in the middle of a war.”

Hoseok downed the content of his glass in one gulp and stared at his friend in confusion. “She is the daughter of the leader of the association. She is already in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, but how do you think her father would react if he knows his daughter is courting with a vampire?” 

“He won’t know about…-”

Taehyung snorts. “He is already suspicious and we are this close to getting caught.” 

“How do you know?”

Despite his angry exterior, Hoseok can tell Taehyung is really worried. He patiently waits for his friend to continue, seated on the same couch he was before he arrived. Hoseok can feel his mortification. It is faint, but it is there. He watches with amusement how Taehyung approached the bar and poured himself a drink. 

“I thought you didn’t want something to drink…” 

“After I told you what I know, you’ll want to refill yours,” he says and takes the contents of his glass in one gulp. 

Hoseok raises a brow but stays silent. After a few minutes, Taehyung speaks. 

“I’ve been using compulsion with servants to figure it out if they know or have heard something about the Lord’s anti-vampire group.” 

“And?” 

“Werewolves are not their only allies," he confesses. "The Lord managed to find a warlock willing to help them.” 

Hoseok frowns. “A warlock? I thought we had a peace treaty with the magic community.” 

Everyone thinks being a vampire is full of benefits and perks but they are all wrong. Vampirism brings along a lot of enemies. 

Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Theoretically? Yes. But this one is obviously in favor of humans.” 

“What would they want with a warlock?” 

“Well, they know how to kill us now and that’s not the worst of our problems.” 

“What could possibly be worse than that?” Hoseok asks. 

“They are trying to empower a human with magic to match our strength and speed during fights,” he gulped loudly and Hoseok’s heart drops. 

This couldn’t be happening. Taehyung lets the information sink in and takes another drink. Hoseok rubs his temples with his fingers. That’s definitely bad. Humans had a slim chance to fight against vampires because of their higher number and vampires still had leverage: their power. Now, if humans have powers of their own, vampires are screwed. He is screwed. 

“Any results?”

“Not yet.” 

Taehyung’s worry was so strong that he couldn’t hide from Hoseok anymore. It was exhausting and the feeling hit Hobi with the force of a truck. Now, his body was full with the worry of two individuals at the same time and his stomach churned painfully. 

"I need to inform my father. If humans want to fight, he will fight back." 

Taehyung nods, "I know. Now, do you understand why I want you to stay away from her?” his voice sounds hoarse and Hoseok doesn’t remember the last time he saw pain glistening in his friend’s eyes. "Something could go terribly wrong." 

Hoseok understands. He knows things are messed up and not for the first time he wishes you were a vampire. Things will be simpler like that. 

Would you want that? If he offers you a life of eternity with him by your side, would you take it? 

“I can’t,” and the words are like punches to Taehyung's gut. "I don't want to. I will protect her. I want to protect her." 

“Do you love her?” 

Taehyung closed his eyes as if he feared what his answer might be. 

Hoseok never realized until then, too caught inside his own world, fears, and hopes, that Taehyung has feelings for you, too. He couldn’t blame him for it, either. Hoseok himself was falling for you. Fast. You were extraordinary, beautiful and the most selfless person he knew. It was too obvious, actually. The way Taehyung’s face illuminated when you were in the same room as him; or the way his eyes helplessly followed your frame wherever you went. 

Taehyung was one of the good ones. 

He had never killed a human to feed. Enjoyed surrounding himself with humans because he wanted to be as normal as possible. He didn’t like being a vampire, but he was born like that and couldn’t change that. He took suppressors to weaken his ability to manipulate others' will. His power was so strong he even could use compulsion on other vampires –something no other vampire could do– but he respected the vampiric hierarchy and didn’t want to use it to his convenience. 

He is that kind. 

"I don't know," Hoseok answers. "I might."

As if he didn’t want to act like a normal human anymore, Taehyung moved in the blink of an eye and seated on the couch, burying his face between his hands in the most vulnerable state Hoseok has ever seen him. 

“Hobi, she is human. Mortal. She can die. You understand that, right?” His voice was muffled but to Hoseok's ears was loud and clear. 

Of course, he knew that. The last few days, he has been having nightmares. Horrible dreams where you die between his arms, bleeding out. Your blood smearing his hands and clothes as he desperately tried to keep you alive. Every time, he woke up with shallow breathing, his heart hammering furiously against his chest and the biggest lump on his throat. He had never felt that type of agonizing pain in his 200 years of being alive as he felt it at the mere thought of you being ripped off his side… 

...and Hoseok is surprised by the nth time by how quickly you managed to get under his skin. 

"I know," his voice sounds strained. "I will stay away from her." 

Maybe it is for the best. He would hate himself if something happened to you because of him. 

Taehyung stands up from the couch with clenched hands, "You better because if something happens to her, I'll personally kill you with my bare hands."

The Jeon's annual party is one of the most important and biggest events of the year during the social season. The invitation made of lush paper and gold is personally delivered to every guest. If you were invited, that meant you are important. 

It is also the event Hoseok had chosen to say goodbye to you. He wants to have one last dance and give you a final kiss before he disappeared from your life. 

Weird thing but what you loved the most about this world are the parties. Ironic, I know. Those parties are the perfect excuse to display the family fortune and elicit other’s envy. You hate that. No, what you love the most is when the hosts, to impress the guests, order the most exquisite pastries and drinks that make your taste buds tingle in pleasure. You love food.

There are also clothes. Despite yourself, you enjoyed dressing up in those dresses that are made especially for you and getting your hair and makeup done for the occasion. It makes you feel like you are inside a fairytale. 

Tonight, your only companion is your brother. Your father had something to do and your mother is kind enough to not come without him. 

This time, the Jeon ball had a theme, Fire and Ice, where the gentleman comes in white and the ladies in red. Lisa excelled herself with the makeup and the hair. You look absolutely stunning. 

Since you arrived, you made a beeline to the food. Shrimp canapes and diverse seafood in appetizers are displayed before you. You are not a big fan of seafood but the canapes are pretty good. You are about to take your second one when you feel a hand being pressed against your lower back. 

"Did my mother choose the appetizers well?”

Jeon Yongmin is behind you with an amused smile on his face. 

"O-oh! Mr. Jeon,” half of the canape was already inside your mouth, so you are struggling a little while you swallow it. 

"Please," he sends you a boyish smile and hands you a cup with bubbly golden liquid, "I told you to call me Yongmin." 

You smile back. “Yongmin,” his name rolls off your tongue and his smile widens.

Well, you guess he will be a good husband. He is kind and attentive. He comes from a wealthy family. You will be taken care of and will not have to worry about anything for your entire life. Plus, he is really handsome. Your kids will be pretty. Yet, you can’t picture yourself with him. When you imagine yourself in the future, another man is standing beside you.  

"The appetizers are really good," you finally respond. 

Strangely, he is here talking to you. Even when he is around your age, he spent more time hanging out with your brother and his friends than you. Thus, you are not close. 

"I'm glad you liked them. My mother was really nervous about it," Yongmin says as he takes one for himself. 

"How is the training going?" You ask him and giggle at his confused expression. "My father is the leader and my brother an active member. Of course, I know about your little group of vampire hunters." 

“It is weird to talk about it with someone out of the group,” he chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck. Then, he leans in closer to you so no one can hear what he is about to say. “We’ve been training with a warlock. He is giving some the power to fight against them. The other night, we went hunting and your brother killed one. It was impressive.” 

Your blood runs cold. Namjoon killed a vampire. You stare at Yongmin horrified but he is too busy telling you the epic story of your brother to notice the change in your expression. He seems excited and why not? This is what your family has been looking for: a way to eliminate vampires from the world. You should be happy. Instead, you feel nauseous. You can't help but imagine Hoseok being tortured by Namjoon. 

"We may kill some tonight. You can see if you want. I'm sure your father would let you," he adds casually. 

What? 

"H-how?" 

"They added a bigger dose of mountain ash to all the food and champagne. If a bloodsucker comes to the ball, we'll know." 

No. You need to tell Hoseok. 

"Has it ever occurred to you that not all vampires are bad?"

He turns to look at you, surprised.

"Are you kidding? They only want one thing. Blood. They'll do anything to get it," his tone is stern and you wonder if he has a story with vampires that made him hate them so bad. 

For the past few months, you have wondered if he was a vampire, like Hoseok. There is something odd about him. But now you are certain he is not. No one hates his own people that much. 

You excuse yourself, telling Yongmin that you need to go to the dresser. You can't be around him any longer. He offers you a smile that you no longer perceive as charming. You start walking as fast as you can. You need to warn Hoseok–

Suddenly, you bump into someone’s chest, too caught up in your thoughts to notice where you were going. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there… Oh, Hoseok.” 

All the concerning thoughts vanish from your mind the moment you meet his eyes. 

“Ms. Kim,” he greets you with a grin. “You look stunning tonight.” 

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. 

You blush at his words. “Thank you.” 

He looks really handsome too. The white of his suit accentuates his dark hair. 

Hoseok leans in and whispers against your ear, “Red is my favorite color.” 

You try so hard not to react to his words but your heart bumps hysterically inside your chest and you know he can hear it. It is clear by the smirk that tugs the corner of his mouth. 

There’s something you need to tell him, but right now you can't remember what it was. Maybe it is not that important. You'll remember later. 

At that moment, the string quartet started playing, filling the room with music.  

"Can I have this dance?" 

With a small bow, he offers his hand. With butterflies flying in your belly, you take his hand. 

He tugs you towards the dance floor where more couples are gathering and preparing themselves to dance. The steps come easy to your mind as you place your right hand over his left one and your left hand over his right shoulder. You feel warmth spread across your body as his right hand snaked around your waist and pulled you closer, his cologne filling your nostrils. 

Every time you dance with him, the world disappears. It is just you and him. Nothing else matters. You lose track of time. You dance until your legs feel weak and your feet hurt. You dance until your mind is dizzy and your throat is dry. Unbeknownst to both of you, a pair of eyes follow you through the crowd. 

The current song finished and a round of applause filled the room as the dancers bowed to their partners. 

"I have something to talk about with you," Hoseok says as he draws you out of the dance floor with a playful smile. Giggling, you follow after him. 

Then, something really weird happens. Hoseok stumbles over his feet. Hoseok, a vampire with enhanced reflexes, fell to the floor. He groans in pain and you let out a gasp. Something is wrong. 

“Are you okay?” 

He looks paler than he was just five minutes ago. Almost all the golden glory that distinguished his smooth skin is lost, leaving a pale, almost sick, color behind. But this is not the most shocking thing. His eyes fluttered open, a bright, crimson red has almost overtaken the chocolate brown of his irises. 

“Your eyes…” you whisper. 

“I don’t feel so good. Please, help me out of here.” 

With a nod you help him to his feet, urging one of his arms around your shoulders for support. A small crowd has gathered around you, their eyes observing with interest. 

“Is he feeling alright?” a woman, Lady Penhallow, asks. 

You offer her a tight smile. “Yes, thank you. He just drank a little too much,” you giggle awkwardly. 

You take Hoseok away before she could formulate a reply. You manage to make it out of the ballroom without much trouble, the people around them too busy to notice something out of the ordinary. However, when you arrive in the hallway, someone is waiting for you. 

Hoseok’s grip around your shoulders tightens as you recognize the man standing in front of you. 

Jeon Yongmin. The same Jeon Jongmin who was also an active member of your father’s Association and knows how to kill a vampire. The same who told you they were using mountain ash to hunt vampires at the ball… 

Suddenly, everything comes back to your mind. How could you forget something so important!?

“Is everything alright? What happened?” Yongmin asks, perfectly collected and face inscrutable. His eyes fall to Hoseok’s arm around your frame and he clenches his jaw. 

Perfect. 

Just perfect. 

You open your mouth to give him an answer, but Hoseok beats you. 

“Everything is alright, Jeon. I sprained my ankle dancing with her and Ms. Kim is kind enough to help me get into my carrier. Do I need to explain myself further?” To your surprise, Hoseok looks somewhat normal again. His eyes are brown again and he is doing his best to not use you for support to stand on his feet. Hoseok holds Yongmin's stare like he is challenging him to say something. The tension is palpable. 

"Okay…" Yongmin says after a while, his eyes glossy. He turns to you. “Come to see me when you finish. I need to speak to you.” 

You nod and watch him re-enter the ballroom. What just happened? 

The moment Jongmin leaves you two alone, Hoseok sighs in pain, and his body weight falls on your shoulders. He can’t stand on his feet anymore. With all your strength, you lead him towards a small balcony. Hoseok lets himself fall against the nearest bench once the door closes behind you. 

“I don’t know what is happening,” he musters between gritted teeth. He looks worse than before, small puffs of air coming out of his lips and beads of sweat all over his face, his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Hoseok, I am so sorry! They put mountain ash on the champagne. They are looking for vampires!" 

You run towards him, on the verge of tears. 

“But… the mountain ash doesn’t… affect me,” he breathed out. His loss of breath was what concerned you the most. 

"Yongmin said they increased the dose." 

Hoseok coughs, “Well, that explains it.” 

“What does the mountain ash do to you?”

He coughs again and you wince. “It only weakens me. It suppresses my powers and my strength. I wouldn’t be able to defend me if someone attacked me.” 

Of course. It is the only way they have to fight against them. 

"What can I do? Let me help." 

"I just… I just need to recover my energy. I need blood. I have some spare at my manor…"

He makes the attempt to stand up but he is too weak and fails. 

"If blood is what it takes, then take mine." 

Hoseok raises his head, his wide eyes meeting as if he couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. Yeah, you are offering your blood to a vampire. Something you were taught to avoid at all costs. It is something you never imagine yourself doing. But it was Hoseok, a vampire you've been developing feelings for. And now that you put it like that, if you could save his life, you don’t mind at all.

"No, of course not," he quickly dismissed your idea. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.” 

“How much time do you think you’ll last like this?” 

“I… don’t know…” another cough. “Probably not much longer.” 

“Then you need to feed fast. Your manor is not close enough,” you try to reason with him.

"I'm not strong enough to resist the blood lust. I could kill you," he sounds tired. 

"You won’t, I trust you.” 

He groans. 

"Don’t. I don’t even trust myself." 

"Hey," you say, taking his head with your hands to make him look at you. He looks… sad. 

The chocolate brown of his eyes had faded away almost completely, now a pair of crimson eyes staring at you. It doesn't freak you out as much as it did just moments ago. Now that you understand they were a part of him, it is easy to leave the uneasiness behind. 

You press your mouth against his. The kiss is barely a peck but charged with emotion.

"Let me help you." 

The last words are practically whispered against his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut. It feels like an eternity passed before he replies...

"Okay. But not here. This place is full of hunters looking for me. It's not safe." 

You agree. "Let's go to my place." 

"Yeah," he deadpans. "It would be safer in the House of the family that put me in this position in the first place." 

You offer him a smile, "We don't have much of a choice, do we?" 

He sighs, "I guess not."

--- 

Helping Hoseok out of the Jeon manor is a challenge itself because of two reasons: one, it is full of guards; two, you need to carry Hoseok’s weight all the way. Still, he managed to act as normal as possible. Once outside, he loses his energy again. His chauffeur looks concerned when you arrive at Hoseok’s carrier and helps you get him inside. 

The ride to your manor is quiet. Hoseok doesn’t have enough energy to talk and you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything. He is resting his head on your lap and you gently caress his hair. You are anything but calm. Adrenaline is pumping inside your veins and your palms are sweaty. The ride only lasted 20 minutes. At this time of the night, the road was almost empty. Two maids are waiting for you at the main entrance. They help you take Hoseok inside. 

"Hello Sophie," you greet one of them. "Are my parents home?" 

She bows at you, "No, miss. They went out a couple of hours ago." 

You nod. "I'll take mister Jung to my room. He is not feeling well… Can you prepare us something to eat?" 

"Of course, miss." She disappears through the hallway. 

You help Hoseok walk towards your room, which is located upstairs on the left-wing. The moment the door is closed behind you a new wave of nervousness washes over you. 

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks as you help him to take a sit on your bed. You place your purse on your night table. "I could feed on one of your maids… They would not remember a thing…" 

"No, I'm fine.” You reply quickly. For some reason, the idea of him feeding on someone else isn’t appealing. Hoseok, who is practically dying on your bed, dared to smirk. “Now what?” 

“Come here.” 

His voice suddenly smoother, like honey. You gulp loudly, fidgeting on your spot. You take a step towards him, your heart pumping inside your chest furiously.  When you are at his reach, he takes your hand.

“This is your last chance to say no.” 

“I-I won’t.” 

He hums before tugging you closer with a last spike of energy. With a yelp, you fall over his lap. He caressed the skin of your neck with the tip of his nose and you shudder. 

“Hmm, you smell amazing,” he whispers against your neck before sinking his fangs on the flesh. 

You gasp and out of instinct, your arms are placed over his shoulders for support. It is not what you have imagined. It definitely hurt. You feel like your skin is burning. You whine and try to push him, but he is too strong. Hoseok’s arms snaked around your middle to pull you tighter against his body. And then you felt the bliss. It was not something you’ve experienced before. The burn fades, leaving a warm feeling behind. You hear yourself humming in content. It is like nothing bad could ever happen in this world. If this is what happiness feels like, you don’t want it to stop… 

Your hazy mind merely registered when Hoseok pulled off your neck- You don’t know how, but his lips find yours. 

The kiss is gentle and slow, both of you moving your mouth lazily. 

You stay like this for what it seems like hours, kissing and nipping until your lips bruised. There is no rush. Both are content just kissing each other’s lips until your lungs hurt due to the lack of oxygen. Hoseok pulls you tighter against his body that earns him a gasp and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside the seam of your lips. Every brush of his lips, every swipe of his tongue is driving you crazy. 

He groans in impatience when he tried to make you straddle his lap with your legs around his hips but failed in the process. Your gown was obviously an impediment to do so. You chuckled against his lips. 

You lift your dress so you could slot your legs around his hips and straddle him the way he wanted to. He groans in approval and pulls you for another kiss, his hands cupping your face. This time, it was sloppy and more passionate than before, the desire and tension between you growing with each passing second. Tugging his hair, you make him crane his neck so you could kiss him there, nibbling and licking the soft skin. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, clearly affected. His hands fall to your hips, fingers digging your skin. 

“What do you think I am doing?” 

“Ughh, you’ll be the end of me…” 

You can’t help but smile at that. When you found the soft spot on his neck, his hands around your hips tightened, causing your body to squeeze harder against his own. You gasp. It is the first time you feel his already hardening member pressing against your clothed core. You rock your hips again, out of curiosity, and a soft moan leaves your lips. It feels so good. You set a rhythm, slow but strong, as you keep exploring the skin of his neck. 

Soon, you feel that it is not enough. You need to feel more of him, so you try to take off his jacket but his hands stop you midway. 

“Baby,” your heart flutters at the pet name. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

“Why?” you whine.

He smiles at your pouty lips. “You are intoxicated with endorphins and you just lost blood. You are not in your right mind to make decisions. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow.” 

“But I want you.” 

“And you’ll have me, tomorrow.” 

He brings your face to him to give you a kiss. “Besides, I think you need to sleep,” he says as he looks intently into your eyes 

You yawn. Suddenly, you feel very tired and you are having a hard time trying to keep your eyes open. 

“I think I should sleep,” you say, agreeing. 

He helps you lay in your bed and you sigh. This feels so comfy and soft. 

“Don’t leave me,” you mumble. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll be here when you wake up. We still need to talk.” 

You nod, your eyes already closed. 

He admires your sleepy form for a few minutes, deciding that maybe is not a bad idea to get some sleep, too. He stands from the bed to leave his jacket on one of the chairs you have around the room. 

Then, out of nowhere, his breath hitches in his throat and he's having trouble bringing oxygen to his lungs. His chest hurts again and he starts coughing violently. There is blood in his hands. 

What is happening? 

He just fed. The mountain ash shouldn’t be affecting him anymore. Then why he feels like shit again? 

The energy leaves him completely and he stumbles over the floor. 

Then, the sound of the room’s door being opened reaches his ears. Footsteps. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a man’s voice asks. 

Hoseok raises his head to look at the newcomer and it shouldn’t be surprising to find your brother, Namjoon, standing before him. No, what is surprising is that Taehyung is standing behind him. 

Son of a bitch. 

“I took you long enough to find me,” Hoseok says, mockingly. 

Namjoon only smiles sardonically. His eyes find your frame lying on your bed and his jaw clenches, the smile disappearing. 

“It was not a good move to feed on her, vampire. My sister has mountain ash in her system. We’ve been consuming it every day for the past month.” 

Well, that explains a lot. Hoseok looks at Taehyhung but his former friend is avoiding his gaze. Instead, he is looking at you. 

Hoseok coughs again and Namjoon is enjoying his suffering a little bit too much. 

“Don’t worry. We will take good care of you,” Namjoon informs him. “Gentlemen, get him out of here.” 

Two corpulent men enter the room and walk directly towards him. They pull him off the ground and use ropes to tie his hands behind his back. The moment the material touches his skin, he winces. It is probably enchanted with some anti-vampire spell. He doesn’t see the point though. The mountain ash has weakened him enough to keep him docile. 

The men tug him out of your bedroom. With the last strength he has, he tries to look at you. But Namjoon is blocking his view. The last thing he sees before the door closes behind him is Taehyung’s bottomless expression and the hem of your dress in the bed. Red, as the color of the blood that ruined everything. 

TO BE CONTINUED.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 03

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m gonna name this chapter symbolism  i don’t even know how to much to thank you guys for all your support, i am so so happy you’re enjoying it. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Hiding, being a ghost story. 

Bucky knew too well about that. He knew perfectly how not to get any attention, even with a metal arm. He could disappear in the middle of crowds without much thought and even now he felt like he had too, he was still something other than human, half machine no matter how much Steve tried to tell him he wasn’t. He was no longer Sergeant Barnes, the longer time went by the more he forgot about him but he would always be the Winter Soldier. His name would always be associated with the attack on the UN, the blood from his victims would forever invisibly stain his hands, the Washington attack photos would forever be searchable and ready for someone to see.

Y/N didn’t know how to disappear. She knew how to become other people, how to be the person other people know. No matter how many wigs, how much makeup or how many times she changed eye colour, she could always see herself in the mirror, it was always her.

As she stepped outside her bedroom, Bucky took a long look at her. Y/N wasn’t ordinary, she was always polished, remarkable and as such Bucky had to make her look like any other girl in New York. Dark jeans and shirt with a musky dark green jack. Hair was done with a matching black cap sitting on top of it.

     - Sunglasses. - he pointed out, noticing her dark shades laying next to her keys by the kitchen. - Cover the eyes and people normally can’t pick you out a crowd. 

    - We can leave through the garage. - she grabbed her keys and bag from the hanger. 

    - Do you have a subway card? - he asked her as he opened the door to her flat.

    - We’re taking the subway? - she sounded excited as she followed behind him like a lost puppy. Bucky once again thought she was going to be eaten alive, in a city she didn’t know with people ready to put her face on billboards for the small price of her soul. He wondered if she would sell it willingly or if it would be stolen from her. Maybe it would be stolen while she was blinded by the flashlights, sucked off her small body. - I’ve never been in the NY subway.

   - It’s not that exciting. 

   - It’s a subway system that takes you everywhere. How can that not be exciting? - her hand wrapped around his once more, not caring it was holding metal rather than flesh, as to pull him out the door before he could change his mind. His eyes looked down to where their hands connected as she kept walking ahead having Bucky removed any resistance from her steps.

Y/N merely looked in front, far away from the four walls which enclosed her in a house which as time faded started to no longer feel like home. Her heart was pounding, running like wind on a storm as the agency’s words rushed through her mind. She could get shot, she could get kidnapped, hurt. Yet, he seemed to make her feel somewhat safe. Maybe it was her subconscious telling her the Winter Soldier never lost of a battle or maybe her brain was smarter than her consciousness. 

They took the stairs down from her floor to the garage, the lights turning on one by one as they made more progress through the worn out pavement which had tire marks and oil stains. This was more of what Bucky’s world looked like, stained, used, worn out, not needing replacing just staying there, fading away over the mocking lights.

   - What are you looking at? - she stopped, feeling the resistance his feet were creating with the ground. Her eyes gazed from his hand to his eyes which were frozen onto the oil spill on the ground. - Oh, Mr. Andrews’ beloved car broke down and spilled oil all over the floor. He refuses to have it clean, says it reminds him of his lost car. 

Bucky removed his gaze from the ground, giving her a reassuring nod, this time with him starting the walk yet she still stood ahead of her. Her feet finally touched the outside of her apartment, the sounds of cars and other vehicles along with the indistinct chattering of people walking around. While immersed and happy to be outside without a higher up member of her agency, her body seemed to reject this, taking a few steps back until her heel hit the point of Bucky’s shoes. 

    - You are gonna be alright, Y/N. - his hand moved over hers. - Trust me. 

    - What if they discover? I don’t want to ruin things.

    - They won’t. Come on, you can’t experience the subway if you don’t walk to it. 

New York, everybody knew about New York, everyone sang about it. Y/N like any non New Yorker knew the city from the representations she had seen in media. From the shining lights of Broadway, the Empire State Building where lovers meet, Central Park’s countless green patches, Times Square in New Year’s Eve to the stairs of the MET on television. Walking New York and watching New York were different things and she didn’t know what place to look with more wonder than the other. 

Bucky had told her it took an hour on the subway to reach Coney Island but she still looked at the rushing horizon with the same curiosity of an animal leaving hibernation. He found it different to watch her watch his home, she had different eyes from tourists, eyes which longed to discover the very foundation of an overbuilt city. His eyes moved from her figure, hand still over hers, to look around the subway. There weren’t any people looking at them, most of them lost in books and their phones, too busy to look at her. Nevertheless, their heads, despite their gaze being glued to any type of media, still seemed to flow her way in some sort of magnetism he didn’t really understand.

As they came to their stop, her eyes seemed to still remain a diamond shine, looking around as he walked a path that was too familiar to him. Looking up he saw it, looking exactly the same as it did when he was a little, the Cyclone. Her eyes looked up too, bashing in wonder of what stood in front of her. 

    - It’s wondrous, isn’t it? - she held his hand as she rushed through the crowds. - I can’t believe this is just here.

    - It’s been here for a while. - he commented, looking around for long but not long enough until she pulled him towards a salesman cart. His eyes left her sight for the first time in the day, looking around to the place he seemed to remember in shades of black and white or sepia, a distant memory. His memory seemed to wrap time around the place and almost like hallucinations he could see spectres of people that no longer walked the living. 

    - Thank you. - her voice broke him out as his eyes returned to watch her over her. She held two cones of cotton candy one blue and other purple, a smile on her lips. Y/N extended him one which he suspiciously took in his hand. - It’s just cotton candy, Bucky. 

    - I know. - he sighed, remembering how he and Steve would save any penny they found on the ground to buy sweet treats in Coney Island. - What do you wanna do?

    - I don’t know. What do you suggest?

    - I’m just here to accompany you. We’ll do whatever you want. 

    - Let’s win a big Teddy Bear. - she started rushing through the crowd again until one of the stalls with fake guns and duck like targets. Bucky let out a mindless smile as she grabbed the gun in the complete wrong position yet still held the confidence of someone who was a trained shooter. Not to his surprise, she failed miserably, a little pout settling on her lips. - Well ... can’t be good at anything. 

     - Let me try. - she handed him the prop gun which he propped onto his shoulder before locking gaze with the target, sending a shot straight through the wooden duck once, twice and thrice. The man at the stall rejoiced, clapping at him before pointing at the stuffed animals atop them. -  Come on, pick one. 

Y/N looked at the stuffed animals above her, all too big and probably would call for attention on the subway ride back home. Her attention was although locked on a small fuzzy black teddy bear nailed to the wood of the stall by its bow. She pointed up to the toy in turn making the man pick up a ladder and remove it for her. Bucky’s gaze once again left her as he noticed a small shack that seemed to have colourful memories in his psyche. Noticing this, Y/N placed her hand over his arm. 

     - What’s wrong? - she questioned, afraid there was any danger lurking. 

     - Just a memory. - he replied before turning to her but she was much too curious to let it go, gaze also locking on the little shack. - Used to be where they’d held the best leg competition.

     - Sounds a bit sexist. - Y/N remarked. 

     - Never said it wasn’t. - he sighed. - We used to sneak through the back until we were caught. 

     - Should we sneak in too? - before Bucky could remark what a terrible idea that was, the actress was once again pushing him to the small shack, going around the back where no one was standing.

The soldier was about to scold her that this would definitely catch some unwanted attention when Y/N opened an old wooden door, going through it which meant he had to go after her. As they both stepped into a building which had been closed for more than 50 memories, his colourful memories started to turn black and white. The once fully lighted, velvet walls of the theatre like shack were worn out, paint chipping away and velvet hanging from it. The signs were broken, some even painted over by spray cans. There was a light layer of dust on the ground and the whole building held itself by the already showing wooden foundation rotting away with time. Time catches up to everything.

Bucky looked at the seats which were almost never filled as men would almost jump on stage to see the girls legs who would giggle at the attention. The stage still seemed to hold some glory with its burgundy curtains worn out by the signs of time yet still magnificent. Y/N jumped the barrier that separated the stage from the sitting area, the wooden boards creaking as she looked around. A theatre always felt like home. He merely looked from the sitting area, a sight that probably everyone who’d seen her play had watched before. 

    - It’s magnificent, isn’t it? - her fingers traced the heavy curtains before turning to Bucky who had sat on the front row.

    - It’s old.

    - Everything is. - she replied, her eyes roaming around the broken lights, trying to picture what this looked like during its hay days. - Reminds me of old musicals. 

    - Well then maybe you should sing. - he joked. - You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.

    - I’m afraid I would break the wood more than it already is. 

    - Come on. - he teased and she looked up to the ceiling before looking to her feet and to the side.

    - I follow the night can't stand the light. When will I begin to live again ... One day I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday. What more could your love do for me? When will love be through with me? Why live life from dream to dream and dread the day when dreaming ends?

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner​ 

[garlicdontwork]

Watch The Night Go Up In Smoke (Chapter 2)

Paul(The Lost Boys) x Frog! Reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: underage drinking, some mind control, puking, driving under the influence

So you get to see the guys in this chapter, very little Marko which is sad but he’ll definitely play a bigger part once the story gets rolling so don’t worry, it’s coming.

>Previous Chapter<

Mikayla and (Y/N) climbed out of the vehicle and made their way to the beach where a giant bonfire was roaring away as teenagers and 20-somethings raged around it already completely wasted and ready to have the best night of their lives.

It was well past midnight when (Y/N) was sipping on only their second drink of the night, they were buzzed but still very much coherent and aware of their surroundings. Mikayla was a completely different story, she had jumped straight into drinking as soon as they reached the party. She had absolutely no issue socializing with complete strangers either. It was like she was a magnet for attention.

(Y/N) had prayed that tonight would change their social status but with every person that walked up and sparked a conversation with their cousin, they reverted further into their shell. Nobody even took notice of them and they had to admit, it kinda hurt.

(Y/N) had almost completely lost hope when a group of four boys approached them. They walked with such an air of confidence, (Y/N) begged whatever higher power there was for them to at least acknowledge them and it seemed that that plea might’ve been answered.

“Hey, you two look like you’re having fun,” the biker with the fluffed blonde hair said. Mikayla giggled drunkenly as her eyes wandered to the tallest of the group with the flowing dark tresses.

(Y/N) stood shocked, he was speaking directly to them. They quickly unfroze and stuttered out awkwardly, “Yeah, we’re having the absolute time of our lives right now.” The teenager cringed in embarrassment as the Twisted Sister look-alike laughed.

Mikayla, who was previously leaning on her cousin’s shoulder to stop herself from face-planting in the sand strutted up to the boy she was previously eyeing and wrapped a piece of his hair around her pointer finger flirtily, “I could think of something more fun that you and I could do. My name’s Mikayla.”

(Y/N)’s face lit up bright red at their cousin’s words as they rushed over to her and tugged her away from the leather-clad biker. “I am so sorry about her, she’s definitely drunk enough for tonight,” they apologized quickly.

The four boys laughed at the two of them, amused by their dynamic. The biker who stood closest to them smiled at (Y/N), “Don’t worry about it, at least you know she has taste.” (Y/N) laughed lightly at his statement.

The first boy walked up to (Y/N) and threw an arm over their shoulder, “I don’t know about that, Dwayne. I mean how could she possibly have taste if she didn’t even throw herself at me?” he laughed before turning to (Y/N), their faces only inches away from one another. “You get what I mean, right?”

(Y/N)’s face flushed as another member of the group, this one with a platinum blonde mullet and completely clad in black, spoke up, “Leave the poor kid alone, Paul. We don’t need them fainting on us.” He gazed at (Y/N), his bright blue eyes seemed to pierce into their very soul, “You two do seem like a good time though and you don’t seem to be having the most fun here. I know a place we could all go and let loose, just a little intimate party for the six of us if you’re down for it.”

(Y/N) felt their mind go fuzzy for a few seconds as they actually considered leaving with this group of boys but those thoughts were quickly torn away as they felt Mikayla’s body next to them start to fold in on itself. She heaved over and let loose the contents of her stomach all over the sand at their feet.

The four bikers all looked shocked at the scene in front of them as (Y/N) went into protective mode over their cousin. They held her hair back and held her up by the waist as she continued to gag.

The teenager looked up at the boys, “Sorry but we’re gonna have to pass up that offer, I really should get my cousin home. Maybe we can hang out some other time?”

They all nodded as Mikayla finally managed to get a hold of herself and (Y/N) began to usher her away from the party.

David spoke before they were able to completely get away, “Nice jacket by the way.”

(Y/N) nodded, confused as to why he’d bring up their jacket at such a random time, “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“Aww come on, (Y/N), I wanna hang out with them,” Mikayla whined as (Y/N) readjusted the girl on their shoulder and continued the walk towards the girl’s jeep.

Mikayla was leaned up against the vehicle as (Y/N) searched her pockets for the keys to the car. Finally fishing them out, they unlocked the car and (Y/N) helped their cousin into the passenger side. They walked around the front and hopped into the driver’s side as Mikayla was struggling to buckle her seatbelt.

Her head lolled to the side as she looked at her cousin pathetically while holding out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Please help.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes and buckled Mikayla’s seatbelt and then their own and started the car.

“We totally should’ve gone with them,” she pouted looking out the window towards the boardwalk.

“Kay, you literally hit on one of them and then proceeded to vomit all over the place. I’m taking you home for a reason.” (Y/N) said incredulously.

“Well yeah, my chances were completely blown, but I brought you here so that you could get a social life. The pretty one was totally hitting on you, what was his name again? Saul?”

“Paul. His name was Paul.”

“See you care enough about him that you bothered to actually remember his name. If you two don’t hang out soon, I’ll scream. You two would be so cute together, with him being all outgoing and flirty and with you being more introverted and shy. He could finally pull you out of your shell,” she rambled obviously still under the influence. (Y/N) shook their head, letting silence fill the vehicle.

“Where did you say we were going again?” Mikayla slurred, looking at her cousin.

“I’m taking you home, your dad would kill us if he found out we both snuck out and never came back home.”

Mikayla gasped, shooting up in her seat, “No! You can’t take me home, he’ll kill me for being drunk!”

“I think he’d prefer seeing you drunk than seeing you on a missing person’s poster. He might be mad but at least he’ll know that you made it home safe, I’m trying to be responsible here, Mikayla.”

The girl slumped in her seat, scowling at her cousin and their stupid moral compass. They had pulled into the driveway of the Emerson house as (Y/N) noticed the living room light on, “Looks like you’re busted either way.” Mikayla groaned.

The two of them hopped out of the vehicle, (Y/N) passing the keys to their cousin which she fumbled terribly. They walked up to the front door which was unlocked and made their walk of shame into the living room where Sam Emerson was lounged on a recliner watching reruns on the TV. He glanced up at his daughter noticing the kid of his best friend next to her.

He spoke to his daughter in a stern voice, “You had your mother and I worried sick when we found your bed empty and window open. We’ll talk about this in the morning, now go to your room.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to explain herself. She nodded her head solemnly and stumbled up the steps up to her room.

Sam turned his head to (Y/N), “Does your father know where you are?” They shook their head. Sam nodded in understanding, “Let me get my shoes and jacket, I’ll give you a ride home.”

They were driving through the streets back to the Frog household when Sam spoke up, “Mind telling me what tonight was all about?”

(Y/N), not used to being in trouble, immediately spilled the beans, “Mikayla wanted to help me sneak out so we could go to this party on the beach so I could meet people and become more social. Everything was going fine until she accidentally drank too much. Then she hit on this guy and ended up puking in front of him so I took her home.”

Sam looked at (Y/N) with wide eyes, surprised at how easy it was to get the full story out of them. He sighed and turned his eyes back to the road before stopping at the end of (Y/N)’s street, “I appreciate you telling me the truth, so for that, I won’t be telling Edgar what happened tonight. While I don’t approve of the way you went about things, I’m glad that you’re trying to open yourself to other people. Just be careful around people around the beach and boardwalk, there’s a lot of weirdos in Santa Carla that you don’t need to get wrapped up in okay?”

(Y/N) nodded quickly before throwing themself over the center console and hugging their uncle around the neck tightly, “Thank you so much, Uncle Sam. I promise I’ll be careful and hopefully, this never happens again.”

He smiled softly at the teenager, “Good, now you better get home before your dad realizes you’re gone.”

(Y/N) quickly hopped out of the car and waved goodbye to their uncle before walking down the street and creeping back in through their window into their bedroom where the lights were still off and the door still locked. They had made it back and nothing bad happened.

It was 3 am when (Y/N) finally settled into bed. Just as they shut their eyes, their imagination began to act up. What might’ve happened if they had gone with those boys. The thought made them queasy. They were so willing to go before Mikayla got sick, (Y/N) felt like their thoughts were completely out of control. Thinking of David made their stomach churn with uneasiness. Something about him seemed dangerous, even deadly. Then (Y/N) remember him, Paul.

His hand around their shoulder, the look in his eyes, everything about him seemed to reel (Y/N). It took everything in them to not lean in further when their faces were so close together.

(Y/N) felt their stomach flutter at the thought. Maybe Mikayla was right, they could be good together.

>Next Chapter<

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 84: Damnation

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Eighty-Four: Damnation

Note: I sat down to write a few words and ended up writing an entire chapter. It might be 8 am now, but it was worth it because I've been waiting for this chapter for a while now. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you!

(-~-)

It had never occured to any of them until then just how quickly a hilly region was capable of flooding when it wanted to. And unfortunately, that time seemed to be upon them.

Tearing down the back streets and alleyways of the now flooding city, Patty sat in the back seat with Kyrie, the two of them seemingly having come to the conclusion that it was safer to remain back here with the children than it was to linger in the front where Nico's hazardous driving was more likely to kill them. At least back here they had a false sense of hope that they might survive a potentially high speed collision with a building or another vehicle, and that was really all that was holding them together at this point.

Outside of her window, there were demons practically everywhere. Some ran up the streets after other cars filled with evacuating civilians, and others climbed up the buildings, attempting to get at the people who had fled to higher ground.

Kyrie sat quietly, the children huddled around her as she clearly tried to think of anything other than how worried she was about what would become of them. Patty and Nico didn't need to ask her if she missed Nero. They knew she did. She missed him every time he left her sight, and she worried every second he was gone. She died a little inside every time he crossed the threshold of her door to go fight the darkness, and she wanted to break down into grateful tears every time he came back to her in one piece after forgetting to call for a few days while he was working. But she would never put that on him, and she would never ask him to stay. She knew that he knew what he was doing and that he loved her and would do everything in his power to come back to her. She and the children were part of the reason he wasn't here right now in the first place.

Maybe in her own way she had just lost too much and she was scared to death to lose anyone else. It was hard to say. But she couldn't think about that right now. She had to make sure that the kids were alright and that she was safe, too. She couldn't let them live through what she'd gone through after her parents had been killed in that demon attack, and she couldn't leave them to mourn her loss like she had mourned her brother Credo and had been so sure she would have to do for Nero when he'd had his arm ripped off and been left to die in their garage. 

This year had been merciless on them all, but she wasn't ready to give up hope that they could all pull off the impossible just yet.

As she sat and looked out of the window in horrified silence, Patty couldn't help but take in everything that was going on around her. So much death and destruction because of the demons that just seemed to be magnetically attracted to this place. No wonder Dante hadn't shown up to her 18th birthday party. He'd probably been worried that some demons would crash the party, too. And she could only scarcely imagine how much worse things would have been in Redgrave City if he hadn't gone that night. It had been a rough year for him, hadn't it? But as she looked out of the windows at what felt like the end of the place that she called home as she knew it, she couldn't help but appreciate more what it was now than she ever had.

Patty's current home city of Capulet was mostly safe from demon attacks. Laying higher up than most of the region to the northwest of Dante's office, it enjoyed sunny, picturesque vistas that overlooked the glittering sea and a coastline so mild it could barely sink a paper boat. Soft breezes cascaded through the valley most of the year bringing fresh mountain air and people were quick to flock to the parks on sunny days to frolic in the pristine weather. And aside from one time about a decade ago when the mayor had nearly been killed by his own butler in some sort of demonic ritual that had cast quite a bit of scandal over his personal life and his professional capabilities, there wasn't much to say about it. And that's why she liked living there. It was safe. Or at least it felt safe.

Why she could barely remember the last time that something bad had even happened there. Well, aside from the strange murders that had happened there recently; bodies turning up missing nearly all of their blood. But that wasn't exclusive to Capulet, unfortunately. That had been happening all over. There was always something nefarious and unmistakably malevolent going on to keep the people of the region from sleeping soundly at night, wasn't there? Maybe the suburbs were not as squeaky clean as she thought they were after all… 

All of that was, for the most part, well and good. But Enamel… Enamel was a different story entirely. Mostly.

Gritty, seedy, and dangerous, it was practically the polar opposite of the well-appointed upper districts of the region, quite literally serving as the seedy underbelly to what would otherwise be a wonderful region. Its docklands were full of thugs and miscreants, and it seemed to have absorbed all of the crime from the central district where Dante and Magnolia lived and Capulet… Or at least on paper. In truth, while its crime rate was high, everyone living there worked thankless factory jobs or unloaded packages at the docks, leaving little time for the sorts of unspeakable acts that the area had garnered a reputation for. And that opinion of it had only recently been cultivated, a string of killings that had supposedly revolved around some speeding bikers and the mysterious destruction of a large bridge being the sole reason that people steered clear of the area. She would never admit it out loud, but she kinda found the place thrilling. There was just something so captivating about that kind of environment to her. Maybe she just thrived on chaos… or maybe she had spent too much time with Dante as a child. Who knew?

But all in all, her feelings aside, it was a fine place. And it most certainly didn't deserve to be underwater as a result of a demon crawling out of the harbor and the demonic red moon that seemed to be laying waste to the entire lower part of town by causing no small amount of problems with the tide. But surprisingly it could have been worse. The lovely coastal town that they had visited during the warmer months had nearly burned to the ground a few weeks back, so at least the city was still standing. Considering what had happened earlier that same year, that wasn't always a given… 

And the central district was… Well, aside from a well-earned reputation for being the worst supernatural mecca this side of Thimbleventer and Vigrid that wasn't the destroyed ruins of Redgrave just to the southwest of the rest of the region, it honestly didn't have much going on. It was a nightlife hub filled with dive bars, clubs, restaurants, and small shops where people shopped and went about their days in a mixture of professions and trades to corporate jobs on the days when they were not too scared to actually leave their houses due to another demon attack. 

There seemed to be another big one every few years or so, and it was really starting to tank the city's reputation. The only upside was that it made the price of living there pretty great. She's been considering moving there herself, making her way closer towards Dante's office. She wasn't going to tell him yet, though. She wanted it to be a surprise.

Unfortunately, Fortuna wasn't even worth considering at the moment, as far as she was concerned. It was still dealing with the last disaster, let alone this one. She knew nothing about it aside besides the fact that it was the place that Nero and Kyrie had grown up, that there had been some weird religious order in control of everything there, and the only two other things that literally everyone knew about it: That it was super pretty and had wonderful architecture… and that it had nearly been leveled by a massive demon attack orchestrated by the very same crazed demon worshiping cult a few years back that they were even now barely recovering from. 

People from the island had slowly started making their way to the mainland for work, supplies, aid, a healthy dose of culture shock, their first dose of cult deprogramming, and perhaps with it a change of lifestyle. And with them came all kinds of wild stories that had started circulating the second that their feet had made contact with the shoreline. Luckily she had a primary source to help her sort through the madness, but she couldn't imagine that being known as the place that had almost been totally destroyed by devil worship was good for the people there or its future recovery. She sometimes wondered why Nero and Kyrie stayed there. Maybe they just didn't know the rest of the world well enough to leave the only place they had ever known behind?

Her mind's eye grew empty and dim as she thought about that bleak reality. She didn't have to imagine what that would be like. They were doing that right now, were they not? For all they knew, this could be the last time that any of them saw this place the way it was now. The sleepy little coffee shops and quiet parks. The dirty bars and worn-out brick buildings. Everything that made this place what it was and shaped the lives of countless thousands of people who called it home. No. Hundreds of thousands of people. And all of them had been displaced by the will of one being.

… They were leaving everything behind. Every single one of them. Even the people in the van with her. She hoped there would still be something here when she came back. Imperfect as it was, this place was home. And she wanted to have a place to come back to. And she was sure that everyone else did, too. 

Never before had a city's architecture worked so hard against it. Every time that they rebuilt this place it fell again. Maybe there was something in the very soil that had doomed this land long before it had become what it was now. But either way, they had to hold out hope. They had to hold onto something to look forward to. And although she hoped that however it ended wasn't worse than it had been before everything started, she was finding it difficult to be that optimistic under these conditions. But so long as she knew that there was someone she could trust out there trying to stop what felt like the end of the world to her, she wasn't ready to give up hope just yet. Dante had never let her down before, and she wasn't ready to say that he was going to do it now. She would wait and see and hope with everything in her that he would be okay and that she would get to see her again. And the same could be said for Lady and Trish for that matter. They were all family to her. Every single one of them. And she wanted them to come home safe.

"Please Dante… stay safe wherever you are. And stop whatever this is before it's too late."

(-~-)

The air around her tingled with dark magic as she zipped by at top speed, ignoring the way that her hair tangled around her head and threatened to get in her eyes as she pushed through the dense underbrush. The fight had given her the perfect opportunity to escape and head over here, all according to Sirrus's plan. He was nothing if not a good tactician, and she respected his ability to plan for caveats and exceptions that she would not have thought of herself. And above all else, she was glad to have not had to fight a devil prince. She was still a witch in training, after all. She liked to think that she was pretty good, but she knew that she wasn't that good just yet.

But for every moment that she spent away, for every second that she forced her way through the thick underbrush, she felt a pang of worry in her heart. She knew what this kind of magic did to those that wielded it. She knew how high the cost was and how long he would pay it. When he had sworn to keep V safe, he had meant it. And it seemed that he was willing to pay with his very life if necessary. No small commitment for someone like him. When you lived as long as he did, choices like that lingered for a very long time and she wondered if he had genuinely thought about that before he had made the choice to go down that route.

"Oh, who am I kidding! Of course he thought about that! He's what, at least twice as old as Madame Willow? He's had plenty of time to think about the consequences of his actions." Flora stopped for a moment and looked back over her shoulder, panting heavily. The terrain here was working against her, a mixture of snow, mud, and rocks making progress nearly impossible from just a ground perspective alone. That was to say nothing of the vines. It was times like this that she wished she had learned nature magic like her teacher. 

She had started running the second that she had felt Sirrus initiate that terrible spell. It wasn't forbidden magic, but it was the kind of power that didn't need to be outlawed because the cost to use it was so high if not used properly that every human being capable of using it had collectively decided against it when the opportunity presented itself. "Still though, I hope he doesn't go too far. I'd hate to see that happen to him. There's no way that he could control something like that. Even for someone like him, a lifeforce is a finite thing. It might be longer than ours, but that doesn't make it endless. This is costly, and there are no takebacks. I really hope he's made his peace with it… "

Carrying on in the only direction that she could, she turned away from the direction of the clearing and headed towards the very thing that had brought her out here in the first place. V had mentioned something about it to them back at the breakfast that they had shared earlier that week, and it had quickly become a point of interest for her family after they had collectively realized that there was no record of this place in their archive. And considering what their ancestors had done here, that was both unsettling and unsurprising. If she had cursed an entire region and spoken a prophecy into effect that could doom the whole of humanity as a result of hatred towards one specific group of people, she would have expunged that from the records, too.

Moments later she rounded the corner and found what she had been looking for only a short distance in front of her. She had known that it was there. The dark aura that radiated off of this place was unmistakable. Inlaid into the side of the mountain like a precious gemstone embedded into a ring was a large piece of round, thick stone about twice her height. Symbols that she could mostly read were carved into its surface, strangely unaffected by the passage of time. She just hoped that a language barrier wouldn't be an issue here. Her Adamic and Latin were a bit rusty, and even that was a charitable assessment.

But as she ran her fingers over the strange symbols, she heard a faint whispering. Overlapping voices flowed over and around her as they whispered loudly at her, their indistinct phrases and rhythms interrupted by what almost sounded like chanting. But she was able to make out a bit of what they were saying in spite of how scrambled and strangely frantic it was.

"The markings are laid deep so that no mistakes must be tolerated." She said aloud, shaking her head slightly. It seemed that the witches who had carved this weren't big fans of amateurs. But still, she would press on. There was only one other sentence left, after all. She was certain that she could make out at least that much. "Lay bare your power lest the lock hold tight until the day the Earth stands still and its core grows cold."

A chill traveled down her spine as those words sunk in. Did she really even want to open this? Could they handle what might be on the other side of it? Witch vaults normally contained very important, critical artifacts and the like. What could a door that radiated this kind of menacing power contain?

Standing back she allowed her right palm to grow hot and her left palm to feel the pressure of her power before pushing with all of her might on the door. The sheer weight of the structure was enough to stop many of the other witches that she knew, but she was not them, and as such, she pressed on, putting not only her power but her strength into it. She strained with all of her might, her feet sliding from under her as she struggled to stay upright, something other than stone holding her at bay. And then as if a jammed key had suddenly decided to turn in a lock, something clicked and the door slid forward, locking into place before falling away into the ground, its own weight and the lack of an air gap in the mechanism causing it to descend slowly.

For a solid minute, Flora stood there, a feeling of unimaginable anxiety gripping her tightly as she watched the opening to the witch vault unveil itself to her. A swarm of bats took flight out of the side of the mountain, the black cloud of flying creatures defining her as they swarmed around her and took their exit. And in the midst of that, she felt another presence that she could not see pass her by to take its leave with her. And that presence chilled her to the bone, her heart racing for reasons she could not explain as her breath both caught in her chest and raced like she had just breached the surface again after being submerged nearly to the point of drowning under ice water.

When the bats finally departed and allowed sight to return to her closed eyes she opened them and looked into the mouth of the cave. And when she did she felt every drop of blood in her body go ice-cold as she saw what lay with its confines. She now understood why that door had been so incredibly easy to open. She had known that something was wrong, and now her fears had become reality. They had wanted someone to open it, and she had played right into their hand.

And just when she'd thought that nothing in this cave could have possibly made this day any worse.

"Oh. Oh no. What have I done?"

(-~-)

3.3K Not a bad way to start the week! I hope that you liked this chapter. Not a lot happened in it, but what did is going to be very interesting later on, so I'm excited about that. See you again on Friday, and I hope you have a wonderful week. Take care out there. Things just keep getting scarier by the day. Bye-bye!

[glenncoco4]

Doctors and Detectives Part 2

Thursday

Katie opens the door without peaking, knowing exactly who's on the other side. As the brunette slowly appears, she looks a bit frazzled as if she was in a hurry to get here. "Hey, I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show."

Kensi steps into the foyer, finally able to catch her breath for the first time today. "Yeah, sorry about that, we were slammed today."

As the two women walk down the hall towards the kitchen, Kensi catches a glimpse of the shaggy blonde that she met the other day, noticing he looks a bit frazzled himself as he mixes a drink.

The nurse can't help the small smile from rising to her lips as she watches her husband's partner perform the task, his brow furrowed in concentration. "He's been remaking your mojito over and over again."

"Why?"

"He said he wants to get it perfect." The redhead turns towards her friend with knowing smile as she watches the blush slowly creep up the doctor's neck towards her cheeks. Oh this is gonna be good.

XXXX

Dinner had been amazing and as usual Kensi didn't let her hearty appetite suffer because of Deeks' appearance at dinner. As they finished up dessert, Katie brought out Pictionary in hopes to get the doctor and detective to loosen up a bit and let their guards down.

A few hours and some choice words later...

As the last bit of sand slowly trickles down, Kensi and Deeks eye the other pair, who are stalled when it comes to the last answer...the winning answer. Both Jake and Katie look at each other as they continue to talk it out but just as the answer comes to them the last grain of sand falls into the lower chamber signaling their defeat.

The doctor and detective both stand, exchanging double high fives victoriously. "Yes! D squared is victorious!"

"Champions of the world!"

After their laughter dies down and Jake and Katie admit defeat, Deeks takes a look at his watch stunned at how late it actually is. "Alright, guys, I better head out. The waves are suppose to be great in the morning."

The doctor shares a look with him, almost sad that the night is coming to an end. "Yeah, I better go too. I'm beat."

Making their way towards the front door, Kensi and Deeks step out onto the small porch and briefly exchange hugs with their friends. As they say their last goodbyes, the doctor and detective walk down the driveway, both noticing the other's slightly slower strides.

Once they reach his truck, he pauses, nervously running his fingers through his golden locks as he works up the courage to look at her beautiful mismatched eyes again. "Hey, so uh-would uh...you wanna go for a walk or grab some ice cream?"

She looks at him curiously, trying to not put too much thought into his actions tonight. "I thought you needed to whip out your sex wax and prep for tomorrow morning?"

"Nah, I just said that because that's my go to excuse to leave."

There's a beat of silence as a look of contemplation crosses her face before she nods with a smile, making his heart flutter.

"Okay, I could go for some ice cream.

"I know just the place."

XXXX

The red Dodge pulls into the retro parking area, neon glow illuminating the darkness around them. There are young teens on skates as they carry food out to other cars that are enjoying the atmosphere. High school kids hanging out, a few families along with a few couples.

Kensi takes in the environment as a whole, loving the vibe and surprised by this hidden gem right in the center of her city. "Wow, this place is amazing."

Deeks smiles, mentally giving himself a high five, as he shifts the truck's gear into park. "I thought you might like it."

They both roll down their windows, enjoying the brisk summer air before one of the car hops skates up to Deeks' side of the vehicle.

"Hi, welcome to Charlie's. What can I get you?'

"Can we get a chocolate malt with extra whipped cream, Rocky Road milkshake with extra whipped cream and an order of chili cheese fries?"

"Sure thing. That'll be 10 dollars even."

The detective pulls out his wallet, handing the young girl a twenty. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, sir." The young blonde quickly skates off with a smile on her face.

He places his wallet back into his pocket all the while feeling her eyes on him. Maneuvering himself, Deeks turns his body so now that he's facing her, and once his eyes lock with her's again he realizes he finally has the opportunity to know more about her. "So have you always worked at Cedars?"

"No, actually right out of med school I decided to up and go to Africa and work with Doctors without Borders."

"Wow. That's...wow." If he wasn't left in awe over her before he most definitely is now.

"It was one of the best experiences of my life. Everything was so slow over there, I could catch my breath and just enjoy life while helping others." The doctor shakes her head, smiling as she thinks back to the dance challenges she would have with the local tribe kids every evening before sun down. There's a part of her that misses that life, back when things were simpler and the people she was around were actually genuine, not that the people in her life now aren't, it was just...different.

He notices the glimmer of yearning in her features and he can't help but wonder. "So why'd you decide to come back to LA?"

"Honestly, I was tired of moving around all the time. I wanted to put down some roots. Maybe start a family some day."

There's something in her eyes, he's not sure how to read. Loss maybe?

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" His brow furrows, caught off guard at how quickly she turned the tables, clearly not wanting to talk about herself anymore.

"What made you decide to become a cop?"

He can feel his body tense, more so about his answer than her question. His thumb rubs back and forth across the skin of his wrist, a coping mechanism that he's become used to any time his past is brought up. "My home life wasn't the best. Dad was a drunk...he uh-he beat me and my mom pretty good." Taking a deep breath he looks up at her, cerulean blues locking with mismatched chocolate orbs full of sadness and understanding, and immediately feels a calmness wash over him. "She tried her best to protect me from it and take the brunt of it all. It wasn't until a few years later that I finally realized that it was never gonna end. So late after school one day my friend Ray gave me his dad's gun for protection. I was so worried that I wouldn't have a place to hide it but it turns out I didn't need one because I used it that night. The cops came and the last time I saw my dad, he was laying in a pool of his own blood."

Her heart breaks as she watches the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I kinda got carried away." He sniffles, wiping away his tears, almost afraid to look back up at her with what he can assume would be pity in her eyes.

A sad smile crosses her face before her hand finds his, knowing just how vulnerable you can feel when talking about your past. "Hey, I'm glad you told me."

There's a beat of silence as the pair gather themselves both reviling in the comfortableness of the moment.

"Do you want to have a family some day?"

The sadness that was in his eyes just a few minutes ago is now replaced by a spark along with a smirk playing at his lips as he looks up at her. "Why, Dr. Blye, are you asking for my hand in marriage?"

She shakes her head and playfully swatting his shoulder, trying to play off the spark of electricity that jolts through her body at the implication.

"Yeah, I think if I find the right woman I'd like to settle down and have a few kids, but it's hard you know? Having the job I do and making time for someone else."

"I know exactly what you mean. I've had like 5 dates since I moved back to the states and that was four years ago."

"Wow. Now that's a crime."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"Yes. Maybe? I don't know. You're-uh, look! Ice cream's here!" He quickly diverts the conversation as their car hop rolls up to the side of the truck once again, this time with a tray full of food.

There's a brief moment of silence yet again as the pair enjoy the first taste of their sweet cold desserts, sneaking a glance at the other as they do.

As she pulls her lips away from the straw, the brunette lets out a small laugh at the unaware detective who has a smudge of whipped cream on his lip. Before she realizes what she's doing her thumb finds the corner of his mouth, wiping away the remnants of the white foam.

The smile that was playing at his lips immediately shifts to shock as he's left completely stunned at her touch.

"You had some whipped cream."

He notices the blush rise to her cheeks and feels his heart rate pick up speed but its her next actions that leave him completely caught off guard.

She leans over the console, feeling a magnetic pull towards him as her lips find his. The moan that escapes her mouth is brought on by the feel of his hand finding her jaw and his fingers massaging the back of her neck.

When air becomes scarce the pair reluctantly pulls back from each other, both trying to catch their breaths. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

All she can do is smile.

[steves-on-a-plane]

I’ll Be Seeing You

Written for: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021!  (& All Caps Flash Bingo!)       Words: 1526  All Caps Flash Square Filled: Learning Together Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky) Warnings: none, all content SFW.  Summary: Bucky and Steve go on their first camping trip together in ninety years. When Steve forgets to pack his own tent, the cool night air turns steamy...

“You two all ready for your big camping trip?” Sam asked Bucky and Steve as they loaded up the latter’s SUV.

“Sure, you don’t want to come with us?” Steve offered again as he stuffed two extra-large sleeping bags into his trunk.

“Am I sure I don’t want to be out in the hot sun for three days with nothing but mosquitos and Lyme disease?” Sam laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, someone’s got to protect and service while you two are out in the woods playing Rambo.” Sam wished both his friends a safe trip before jogging back inside the compound.

“Which one of us is Rambo?” Steve asked Bucky.

“Get in the car, Rogers.” Bucky shook his head. He hopped into the front passenger’s seat and waited for Steve to slip behind the steering wheel.

“This is nice.” Steve gripped the steering wheel eagerly. “When was the last time we went camping together?”

“Twenty-Nine? Maybe? That one year we were in the scouts.” Bucky tried to recall.

“So, a solid ninety years ago? This will be fun.” Steve seemed confident. He started his vehicle and began piloting it out of the Compound’s long driveway. They still had a journey ahead of themselves until they reached the nearest campground in Virginia.

“You know, Shuri taught me that you can put music on these things?” Bucky indicated his smartphone. “So I asked her to help me do it. This is one of my favorite songs.” He tapped on the first song in the playlist.

As the song began to play on the SUV speakers, Steve was first impressed that Buck had figured out how to work the Bluetooth thing in his car. He then began to listen to the song. It was I’ll Be Seeing You this particular recording was being sung by Billie Holiday and still had that microphone crackle that all old recording once had. The song went on to say how Billie would be seeing someone in all their old familiar places. Lovely summer’s days, the moon and even the park. Steve understood why Bucky would like the song so much. It was how he’d always felt about his best friend.

There wasn’t a day that went by when Steve didn’t think of Bucky. Not before or during the war and certainly not after. He often found himself “seeing” Bucky everywhere he went. Whether it was imagining the two of them dining together in a small café or strolling together down a Brooklyn street. But you don’t have to pretend anymore. He reminded himself as the song reached its conclusion.

“Now this next one is because I know how much you like the movies.” The unmistakable tune of Somewhere Over the Rainbow began to play next. Steve couldn’t help but sing along.

“There’s a land that I’ve heard of, once in a lullaby. C’mon Buck, Sing with me!” He insisted.

“I’m not going to do that.” Bucky frowned.

“It’s just us, who are you trying to impress?” Steve laughed. “Someday I’ll wish upon a star…”

“And wake up where the clouds are far behind…” Bucky crooned reluctantly.

“That’s it!” Steve nodded, encouragingly. “That’s where you’ll find me!”

Bucky always hated singing, but music and movies made Steve happy. Especially back in the pre-serum days when he was weak, nothing brought a smile to Steve Rogers like belting out his favorite tune. So Bucky was going to suffer the entire four hour car ride to the camp ground just to watch his best friend light up beside him. He’d known for almost a century that he’d do anything for Steve Rogers.

“Well, here we are.” Bucky announced as if Steve wasn’t the one following the GPS directions to their campsite. Steve parked his SUV in the designated parking spot and the two began unloading their gear. “Should we start with the tents first or get a fire going?”

“I say divide and conquer.” “Steve breathed. “Get the most out of what little daylight we have left. I’ll pitch the tents and you can get the firewood?”

“Last one to finish has to cook dinner?” Bucky suggested.

“Bring it on.” Steve agreed.

While Steve dug around in the trunk of the SUV, looking for the tents, Bucky skulked off into the woods in search of firewood. Twenty minutes later, Bucky had a decent pile of wood gathered and started building his fire. He noticed Steve had managed to only set up one tent so far.

“Rogers, where are you sleeping this weekend?” He asked nodding at the single tent.

“Yeah, about that…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Apparently we only packed one tent.”

“That’s my tent.” Bucky commented, continuing to work on his fire. “So really, it’s not that we only packed one tent it’s that you didn’t pack any tent.”

“It appears that way.” Steve sighed, dropping his hand to his side.

“Don’t worry Rogers, my parents taught me how to share. There’s plenty of room for both of us.” Bucky smiled and turned back to his fire which he was just about to light.

“Only seems fair I cook dinner.” Steve offered. “I’ll finish setting up camp. That give you enough time to finish the fire?”

“Fire’s finished.” Bucky said, fanning at his small spark. After a few seconds, he produced a small flame. “All that’s left to do is kick back and watch you cook.”

Bucky set up the two foldable chairs Steve had managed to excavate from the back of the SUV and took a seat. He was sure to angle his chair so that he could watch Rogers single handedly unpack their equipment. It wasn’t a particularly warm night, but carrying the equipment certainly had Steve sweating. He peeled off his sweat soaked shirt before hefting their cooler out of the vehicle.

“You know Rogers,” Bucky commented getting out of his seat to remove a beer from the cooler. “I’m not that hungry. He twisted the top off his drink and pressed the bottle to his lips.

“We haven’t eaten all day.” Steve huffed as he watched his friend down the cold beverage. “How can you not be hungry?” Bucky just shrugged in response. “We could skip dinner and go right to campfire songs…” Steve teased.

“I’d literally rather chop my good arm off.” Bucky countered.

“Fine, fine.” Steve shook his head in surrender. “What’s your opinion on s’mores?”

“You’re not going to stop until I do one of these manufactured-idealized camping moments with you, are you?”

“I’m not going to force your hand Buck…” Steve laughed.

“Where are the marshmallows?” Bucky rolled his eyes.

Three bags of marshmallows, several chocolate bars and a sunset later, Bucky and Steve sat in their folding chairs and watched their fire die down. Bucky stretched and yawned, now full of gelatin, sugar, crackers and chocolate he was ready for bed. Steve couldn’t help himself but yawn too.

“Ready to hit the hay?” He asked his best friend.

“Yeah I could call it.” Bucky agreed.

He got to his feet and made his way over to the tent. Bucky kicked off his shoed and climbed into the tent. Steve followed him. He turned on their magnetic tent light so that they could get ready for bed. As both men stripped down their boxes, Steve noticed for the first time to amount of scars covering his best friend’s body. He couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was strong enough to scar a super soldier.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Bucky commented sarcastically. He felt uncomfortable under Steve’s gaze.

“I-I wasn’t…I Just…” Steve fumbled for an explanation. Bucky watched his friend’s cheeks flush in the dim lighting. The two were so close together in the tent they could practically feel each other’s breath.

“Oh these old things?” Bucky joked. He trailed one scar that ran across his chest and up over his shoulder. “Most of ‘em don’t hurt much anymore.”

“What about the other ones?” Steve sighed, his breath shaky.  

“You get used to it.” Bucky shrugged.

“Could I…” Steve reached out cautiously. His fingers brushed the same scar that Bucky’s had just traveled. His friend shivered slightly at the touch. “Sorry…” Steve started to pull back, but Bucky caught his wrist.

“it’s okay, I’m not made of glass.” He said in a gruff tone.

The two men locked eyes. Bucky wasn’t sure if he leaned into Steve or if Steve had moved towards him, But the two men shared a silent agreement as they pressed their lips together. It was everything Bucky had been dreaming of since before the war. Bucky moved his arms so that he was holding Steve and just as he was about to part his lips, he felt Steve’s hands push his shoulders away.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky apologized immediately.

“No, No.” Steve mumbled rubbing Bucky’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I’ve never done something like this before.”

“Neither have I. Do you want to stop?” Bucky asked with genuine concern.

“No.” Steve answered.

“Can we just, ah, take it slow?” Steve bit his lip.

“As slow as you want, Baby.” Bucky promised, gong back in for another kiss.

[gorogorogorochansan]

CP2077 OC ask game *:･ﾟ✧⚔️🤖🔮 [x]

PERSONAL.

1. what is their full name? do they have any nicknames? what are they and why did they get them? His full name is Maximilian Noirceuil Roquentin Vandermeer. Vandermeer to others, Max to his family. His mother just loves French literature and culture.

2. how old are they? how long have they been living on their own? 33 as of 2077. He’s been living on his own for 15 years since he joined Arasaka.

3. what are their astrology signs? sun/moon/rising. He was born on May 2nd 2044, which makes him a sun Taurus, moon Cancer and ascendant Leo.

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them? The Devil.

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way? Not at all. Max is rather materialistic and self-indulgent at times.

6. which of the four elements would you associate with them? Air for intellect and mental intention.

9. which of the nine alignments are they? (lawful good etc) Lawful neutral.

10. which of the myers-briggs personality types are they? ESTJ, the Executive.

11. do they have any cyberware? is it cosmetic or is it weaponry/armor? He’s not into combat much, he prefers doing his job quietly if he can. Better yet - a silver tongue coupled with unsettling look can achieve a lot more than a weapon. Hands: Smart Link; Ocular system: Kiroshi Optics; Nervous system: Kerenzikov; Cyberdeck: Stephenson Tech Mk.2; Integumentary system: Optical Camo;  Skeleton: Endoskeleton, Bionic Lungs; Legs: Lynx Paws.

12. what is their occupation? He likes to call himself a free artist but technically he’s a solo. Murder, sabotage, thievery, recovery, delivery - you name it and he’ll do it, quick & clean. A man of high standards he prefers to be silent, precise and effective about his work. Even during his Arasaka days he never shied away from hard or morally repulsive (to some) tasks. A job is a job and needs to be done.

13. if you were to choose a class for them, what would it be? The closest would probably be a Stealth Solo.

14. what is their weapon of choice? HJKE-11 Yukimura pistols & Electric Baton.

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice? Black Quadra Turbo-R V-Tech.

16. how would you describe their style? Neomilitarism. Corpo chic through and through.

17. are they a early riser or a night owl? Normally he’s an early riser but not averse to adapt if work demands it.

18. share three songs you associate with them. Eisbrecher - Verrückt [translation] Dorothy - Wicked Ones Oomph! - Augen auf! [translation]

NIGHT CITY.

19. is your character from night city? if no, where were they born? what brought them to night city? if yes, what area of the city did they grow up? He is from Charter Hill, Night City. His maternal family is from North Oak but his parents moved to something more affordable before he was born. He worked his ass off to stay in Charter Hill on his own but after his boss Jenkins lost the power struggle in Arasaka, Vandermeer had to survive and look for a cheaper place.

20. where do they currently live? describe their home. Watson, Little China, near Sutter Street. He rents a small apartment that satisfies his needs, which turned out to be rather simple - a quiet (as much as possible), clean and efficient space that is suitable for living and working in.

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC? Lele Park in the evening and night. And Dark Matter club.

22. do they like to cook for themselves, or eat out? do they prefer restaurants or street food? and how do they feel about vending machine food? He can cook a few things thanks to his mom but generally prefers street food and restaurants. He finds vending machines repulsive.

23. do they prefer the city or the badlands? The city. He loves comfort, hygiene and availability of things only megalopolis can offer. 

24. what gang/faction/corporation do they align with, if any? He prefers to keep balance and mutually beneficial relationships with everyone strictly for business. He always looks for people reasonable enough to bargain with. 

25. which radio station(s) is their favorite? If it’s a car radio then it’s Vexelstrom most of the times. He likes hearing heavy rhythms in the background. When it comes to listening to music at home he has a variety of genres in his playlists from classics and jazz to heavy metal.

26. if they do merc work, do they have one dedicated fixer? if so, who? It’s Rachel Vogelman (another OC created by @bnbc). They used to be corporate rivals during their Arasaka days. To add fuel to the fire their colleagues believed them to be siblings because of certain visual similarities between the two. When Max lost his job Rachel was the only person he could ask for help. It wasn’t easy, and it still isn’t but they focus on the business side of things. Or at least try to.

27. have they ever had run ins with the badges? He doesn’t like to attract unnecessary attention. Nobody likes when you’re the star of TV news.

28. are they quick to help a stranger in need or do they prefer to stay out of other peoples business? He most likely won’t help unless it can benefit him in any way.

29. do they have any favorite celebrities that frequent or live in NC? how would they feel meeting them? He doesn’t give a shit about celebrities. But he knows Michiko Arasaka, and their first meeting face to face left him baffled to say the least.

RELATIONSHIPS.

30. is your friend a social butterfly or more of a loner? Something in between. He hates useless small talks and fake politeness but understands their necessity when required. 

31. who are their closest chooms in NC? He doesn’t have any. Never cared enough to rely on people and always expected a knife in the back. His most regular stable contact is probably Rachel Vogelman but  they’re not even close to being chooms.

32. do they have anyone they would consider family? His mom and his sister are the only family he needs.

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents? He loves his mother Jessica who raised him to be a well-rounded personality that can always land on his feet. She’s an economist with a good sense of humor and interest in arts. But he doesn’t have much emotional connection with his father Mark, since the guy is always busy with his retail business.

34. do they have siblings? He has a sister named Brit who is 15 years younger.

35. how would you describe their relationship with their family? Max is close with his family, although they’re all often too busy to meet regularly but they keep in touch.

36. who is their biggest enemy? Detective Marc Sanderson? Hard to say for now because there’s no official lore information on him yet.

37. tell a short story about your character with their best choom. His rivalry with Rachel Vogelman was almost comic at times, which only worked against them as their colleagues called them siblings on purpose. But since the two have mutually beneficial relationships now he can admit Rachel is pretty good at what she does. He won’t tell it to her though to avoid giving her the pleasure. They have both grown up after losing their corporate jobs but some habits die hard.

38. do they have a love interest? if so, who? His current LI is Michiko Arasaka. Initially he'd met her as Ichigo (a Japanese name that means strawberry) in a cyber sex VR club while he still worked in Arasaka. It was a series of encounters they both enjoyed until he abruptly put an end to it during his unemployment. He suspects she started digging info on him because she reached out to him some time after he had made a small name for himself as a solo. 

39. are they in a committed relationship or do they date around? Given the social gap between the two and solely sexual nature of their affair it’s implied they’re in open relationship. Besides it’s unknown if Michiko is still married. However, despite loving sex Max can be picky because he’s slightly fixated on hygiene. Michiko also sparked genuine curiosity and creativity in him with her wild and magnetic personality.

40. has your character ever been in love? if so, with who? No, what is love? He won’t recognize it even if falls in it.

41. do they believe in soulmates? No, he believes in shared goals.

42. do they believe in love at first sight? A ridiculous notion.

43. describe their ideal date. Their idea of romantic evening is to hook up in clubs where it’s noisy and crowded enough to ignore them but also to tickle their nerves. Sometimes they have a follow-up in motels (Michiko knows all the right places) if they can afford it. I don’t mean financially of course. Currently such state of affairs suits both of them perfectly.

44. would your character ever get married? Theoretically he can but marriage is a serious commitment, and right now he’s not interested in making one. And when it comes to Michiko it’s a no-no for a variety of obvious reasons. 

45. what was your characters first impression of their partner(s)? Michiko Arasaka was not someone he expected to see when Ichigo asked for a real life meeting. She definitely enjoyed the effect she made while Max was trying to figure out in his mind if this was a setup. She was bold, straightforward and irresistable - not like anyone he has ever met before. The whole situation felt like getting into a sports car without breaks. Once in a lifetime opportunity, a one-way ticket. And he took it. He suspects he’s not the first and not the last such input for her but life is too short for missing out the fun.

46. are they open about their relationship or low key? how would other people feel about them together? Somewhat semi-open. Max’s mom knows and she’s worried for him, although she knows he can take care of himself. And Michiko doesn’t mind him telling about her to his family as he has no friends and isn’t the type to brag, and she doesn’t care if anyone recognizes her in public. Her social circle wouldn’t care about him, and those who might won’t be able to do a thing about it.

47. share a headcanon about your character and their partner(s). Just one? I’ve already got plenty. • Michiko calls him Max and he calls her Ichigo or Ichi (one) because that’s how they’ve met and it's something of their inside joke, a secret; • Michiko keeps him at distance on purpose. She studied his profile long before they’ve met face to face and probably knows what he wants for breakfast before he even wakes up. So she knows Max has opportunistic tendencies like majority of mid-tier corpos. But another reason is that she also doesn’t want things to get serious and complicated between them because it can ruin the fun. She appreciates he doesn’t ask stupid questions or demands more attention than she can give him; • Michiko likes to подъебывать Max. I guess the closest English equivalent would be to tease - cracking suggestive jokes on him, giving him simple presents she finds hilarious, sending him nudes and demanding payment with his in the most inappropriate times. She is amused Max tolerates her shit so stoically - but she’s never malicious, disrespectful or obnoxious. In return Max knows it’s hard to impress someone who comes from the Arasaka bloodline & that it would be safer not to get on their bad side, so he focuses on making her feel good. And strangely it makes him feel good too.  • Max loves to touch her hair. Michiko always looks flawless when they meet and he adores her for it. • When Arasaka Tower was under attack Max called her until she finally picked up as he was genuinely concerned about her safety. He asked if she was alright and offered to take her home but she refused. She doesn’t know he was waiting outside.

48. share three songs you associate with your character and their partner(s). Garbage - Bad Boyfriend Eisbrecher - Exzess Express [translation] Eisbrecher - Rot wie die Liebe [translation] Bonus: Dinah Washington - Relax, Max - a song Michiko likes to tease him with.

NSFW.

49. name three of your characters biggest turn ons. Mature, confident women who know what they want and don’t waste anyone’s time.

50. name three of your characters biggest kinks. Touching Michiko in public - it’s the kink of kinks.

51. do they like having multiple partners or do they prefer monogamy? He doesn’t like being in relationships. The secret to his successful affair with Michiko is that both are totally free of any commitments and expectations from each other. Normally he prefers flings, BDs and cyber sex. But currently his mind is occupied with one specific woman with blue hair.

52. do they watch porn or braindances? Porn is ancient, BDs are far more superior.

53. would your character ever make an explicit braindance? He doesn’t have the right implant for that. He might though but not with Michiko - he’s not that stupid. 

54. do they have any cybernetic enhancements that serve sexual purposes? He’s no netrunner but he got himself a Stephenson cyberdeck that supposedly prolongs orgasms. Turns out the cyberdeck can be useful for other things as well, even moreso as now he doesn’t have a corpo protection and needs to be more careful.

55. do they have a preference for ‘ganic bodies or do they like modifications? He doesn’t like cheap implants. Other than that he doesn’t care.

56. name three of your characters biggest turn offs. Poor hygiene, naivete and girls who don’t know when to quit. 

57. what is their ultimate fantasy? or ““secret”“ kink? Michiko is his ultimate fantasy now. There’s something liberating and intoxicating about having her at the tips of your fingers moaning your name. He feels like he can try anything with her and she won’t say no, although he is aware it’s an illusory freedom.

58. would they ever use any substances like aphrodisiacs, alcohol or drugs during sex? Yes because why not? It’s not necessary but it can’t hurt.

59. what is their wildest sexual experience? A corpo group sex party. It was fun but he doesn’t like joytoys, even premium ones. Had to do a medical check-up afterwards.

60. are they more submissive or dominant? Dominant. But one time Michiko cuffed him to bed and he didn’t mind.

61. does your character need to have an intimate relationship with someone to have sex? or do they prefer being unattached? Unattached is best at the moment. Though he’s not fully aware he’s currently attached.

62. has your character ever participated in group sex? In the past, during his Arasaka days. 

63. do they like to sext or play over the holo? Why not both, depending on situation. 

64. has your character ever ghosted someone after a sexual encounter? Yes because he doesn’t like attachment. The reason he didn’t ghost Ichigo was that she was always creative during their virtual meetings.

65. how would they react if they were ghosted by someone they like after a sexual encounter? If Michiko ghosted him he’d be probably pissed and then upset. But he suspects she’d tell him first because there’s a certain amount of trust between them.

66. do they prefer kink oriented sex or spontaneous passionate sex? Usually the latter but the former is good too.

67. how do they get down on their own? quick and easy or do they have to romance themselves a little? It depends on a moment.

68. in what outfit do they feel sexiest? how do they dress to impress? Naked is the best. He dresses sharp because that’s how he was raised and also because it makes him feel good about himself. He mostly prefers clean black suits.

69. do they like having music on while they have sex? share three songs they’d play while getting down. He usually doesn’t care but Michiko likes to put on something energetic and loud when they’re in motels. This is just to give the idea of the mood: Fatboy Slim - Ya Mama Beastie Boys - Sabotage Mylène Farmer - Des larmes

[eyanril]

First (and Last) Lines Tag

Tagged by @phelfromgrace​, so I’m following her format.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

Tagging: @tmwillson3, @pansexualfandommess, anyone who wants to do it!

1. These Foolish Games (GingerRose, Canon Divergent)

When Rose Tico stepped off the shuttle onto the paved courtyard of the Canto Casino and Racetrack, she had a quick flash of deja vu. // Well, she thought, as she ran the soft wool of the wrap through her hands one more time, at least now I have something appropriate to wear.

2. Sing A Lunar Song (GingerRose/Reylo, Werewolf AU)

On the evening of the super pink moon, the werewolves of the Resistance Pack descended on the state park en masse, ready for a night of revelry after a long winter.  // “It’s a date.” (End of Chapter 5, WIP)

3. Second Skin (GingerRose, Canon Divergent)

You vermin may draw a little blood with a bite now and then, but we will always win. // She has given him everything he needs.

4. It All Starts With Wanting (GingerRose/Reylo, Dystopian AU)

A cold, steady drizzle fell on the day Rose stood in front of the gates of First Order for the second time in four years, cursing the spring shower and her nerves and wondering where the hell Jannah was. // So why, as he lay in stunned silence in the morning sunshine, did it feel like they’d just taken two steps back? (End of Chapter 5, WIP)

Since I don’t have any more fics, I decided to include some of my original stories.

5. Little White Box (Genre: Historical Fiction / Subject: A regret / Character: A chocolatier)

It was just past ten on a crisp September morning when Sir Hugh Stafford embarked on his first errand of the day. // “Shroud her in yellow satin, and paint the coffin white.”

6. An Elf Among Men (Genre: Fantasy / Subject: A stag/bachelor party / Character: A prince)

Prince Ekkehardt, the heir to the throne, was an anomaly in the kingdom of Alemannia. // “You weren’t mistaken,” Ott declared, and, without regard for the complications morning would bring, drew Ekkehardt close and kissed him back.

7. The Chain Gang’s All Here (Genre: Crime Caper / Subject: Cosmetic Surgery / Character: A comedian)

In the back room of a crowded bar, Billie waited for the last recruits to arrive. // “Joke’s on you,” the comedian said, shrugging.  “I would have done it for free.”

8. Fallen (Genre: Fantasy / Location: A crater / Object: A hearing aid)

The summer night the star fell from the sky, Oona sat on the porch and observed the heavens the way she always did, arm in arm with her grandfather. // Where he belongs.  Still, curling a hand around her belly and the gentle fire kindling within, Oona hoped, someday, the sky would return him to her.

9. Thrall (Genre: Fantasy/Horror / Subject: Comeuppance / Character: A ne’er-do-well)

The pale stranger only comes at night, creeping silent through the grove, across the wide expanse of lawn, to stand at her window. // “Go get us something to eat,” she orders, and laughs, long and harsh, when he shuffles away, obeying without question.

10. That Sun-Kissed Glow (Genre: Thriller / Location: A tanning salon / Object: Rollerblades)

The minute Officer Gina Halloran kicked open the door, the smell hit her, that familiar Banana Boat stench that wafted along the beach and boardwalk on blistering hot days. // “Because they taste like home.” He slipped through the window, into the night.

11. Compromised (Genre: Spy / Location: A crime scene / Object: A magnet)

Val stood on the edge of an icy road in Bashkiria, waiting for her handler. // But like her, he was not ready to die.

12. Hearth and Home (Genre: Historical Fiction / Location: A fireplace  / Object: insect repellent)

Susanna was a simple girl. // “I will.” She dragged her fingers through the ash, a lover’s caress. “I am your servant.”

13. Dealbreaker (Genre: Drama / Subject: A handshake / Character: A burglar)

It was ten past three in the morning when Kate woke to the sounds of a vehicle trundling up her driveway. // And like all of Frank’s promises, she wondered how long it would be until he broke it.

14. The Road’s Toll (Genre: Historical Fiction / Subject: Relocation / Character: A prodigy)

The first thing to go was the armoire.  // August handed over the bills to the ferryman without another word, and they began to ready the wagon for the crossing.

15. Party of One (Genre: Drama / Location: A homecoming party / Object: A box of raisins)

Late one Saturday morning, Ari jumped up when the phone rang, but she heard a garbled “Hello” from the other room before she could lift the receiver. // Guess the party’s over, she thought, and dumped the whole cake in the trash.

**

Patterns? I seem to favor a location/scene establishing first sentence. that's probably more complex than it needs to be. Last sentence, I like to try to wrap up everything in a bow or have a callback to something I established earlier in the story - not sure if I'm always successful.

My fave opening line is a tie between "Thrall" and "That Sun-kissed Glow". Closing lines I like pretty much all of them - I think I'm much better at endings than I am at beginnings!

[dreamsinthefoxhollow]

Robot Up

I am walking near a fence. The fence separates the housing areas of the city from the wild, open spaces that lead off towards the distant mountains. I am on the vacant land side of the fence.

I've been here before, many times. I know the place well. The area near the fence is barren dirt from foot and vehicle traffic. Normally the areas further away are dry grasses and scrub, leading into the rolling hills, which get taller the more distant from the city edge. There's one or two dirt roads out in the hills, mostly hidden from view, which lead further out and all the way to the mountains.

I had always wanted to drive out on those mysterious trails, in my Jeep, or really any available machine capable of making up the steep dirt slopes and nasty rocks and small cliffs. I only had one chance to do it, long ago, and had traveled very far out into that open wilderness. It was bliss, back then. There was a place that I remembered. I was told I shouldn't ever go out there because evil cults were out there, doing evil things around evil fires. Of course, I had to find them, and I did.

They were camp sites.

Now, though, it was different. The hills were green with wild grass, waving in the sun. Only the area near the fence was still just dirt. I wanted to go out there again, even if I couldn't see any traces of the old trails.

This time was different. I didn't need any vehicles to go out and look around. All I had to do was fly. I lifted my left arm, as if it were some kind of control lever. As soon as it went higher than horizontal, I started to float above the ground. As I shifted it to gesture in a direction I would drift that way. So I lifted my arm and floated up, then directed myself to a low, quick flight up the nearest hill. I stretched my arm out and went faster, thinking how silly it was that I might look like Superman. I went past the nearest hills. I could see the trails, now partially overgrown from disuse. I went further. I hadn't been this far out before. And then I went further out than I had ever tried.

I landed among rolling hills. It was getting dark and I was near a very old barbed wire fence with grass grown up along the bottom of it. I noticed a clearing not far away, near the top of the long-sloping hill. I started to walk in the grass towards it. A friend was suddenly walking beside me. We started to casually talk while walking. I may have been a little excited, mostly about being so far out and in undiscovered terrain.

We arrive at the dirt patch, which is next to a small, leafy tree. The patch is like a spot where the grass has been trampled away and left as bare dirt. It's in a half-moon shape, but the ends are extended out so it looks like it's been stretched like taffy. My friend says it is a "witching mark" because of the random scratched lines in the dirt. They kind of ... No. They really just look like random lines scratched in the dirt and not some occult symbols. I walk along the stretched area of the patch, noting how there is a line of grass growing there. It's like if a fence had gone through that area and was removed, and just the line of grass remained, though trampled down and gone near the dirt patch center.

I am a short distance from the patch, maybe four meters or so. My friend is standing on the bare patch and babbling on about the lines being all witchy and stuff. He just won't stop, so I'm ignoring him. I am really just looking at the line of grass at my feet. I notice something odd. There is a small patch of round grass in a clump along the line. I put my hand on it. It feels like a pressure pushing up against my hand, like the feeling of holding two magnets together and they are pushing apart. I push down on it.

There is a bright flash of golden light, with afterimages of purple in my vision. I am dazed and have to take a few moments to recover. For a while all I can see are purple spots. It clears slowly. When I can finally see, I realize my friend has been turned into some kind of doglike animal. He's like a really large dachshund, or maybe a chihuahua, but with the shape of a fox, but the features of a puppy. He is covered in short, light brown fur and what parts of his skin are visible – around his eyes, inside his ears, his nose – are shiny golden in color. He says it is amazing and incredible that the magic in that old, unused witching mark was still working after all these years.

Someone else walks over to us. It's getting dark so I didn't notice them until they were right next to us. It is a young woman. She talks about the buildings nearby. There are buildings on the other side of the old barbed wire fence. It reminds me of the house area at the edge of the city, except these buildings look more like white, metal warehouses. Except some of them also look like cookie-cutter homes, all the same with white walls and dark, pitched roofs.

My friend is still blabbering on about the circle and the magic, and the woman asks if he is ok. She points out that the bright gold colors have now changed to a dusty sort of orange. I stop looking at the distant buildings and find his skin has actually turned a melon pink shade. Neither the woman or myself question the fact that he is a talking dog.

We walk over to the warehouses, which are brightly lit in the coming night. They are factory and warehouse areas for some robotics development. Right now they are testing out new designs, but only one type at a time. At the moment the robot systems there are very simple and ungainly. One wobbles out of the nearest warehouse to us. It is vaguely four-legged and is barely able to stay upright. It's all random hoses and actuators and joints, though most of it is just fixed parts moving around fixed axles. It continues wobbling as it heads vaguely in the direction of the fence where we had come from.

As we are now closer, I can tell the warehouses and the houses are actually the same structures. The houses have giant warehouses attached to them, like seriously oversized garages. It's really getting too dark to see, now, and the only lights are coming from the other warehouses, which are paced far enough apart to leave lots of inky darkness in between. We decide to enter one of the nearby homes to get out of the darkness.

The houses ... really aren't all that roomy, or nice. Up close they seem more like stucco-walled shacks without any real niceties. There is only a single, bright floodlight over the door. There's nothing on the house aside from the bare stucco. There's no overhanging eaves, or nice window shutters or frames. The door is just set into the bare wall with a simple concrete step leading to it. The interior is basic and bare. There's a couch and a single light on the ceiling, and a small chair with a cupboard next to it.

From inside I look out and there are several tan frogs lined up along the outside edge of the door. I cracked open the door so I could stick a foot out and try nudging the frogs away from the door wo they wouldn't get hurt, but one slipped past my foot and ran into the house along the edge of the wall. It really ran, wobbling quickly like a round mouse. That was unexpected, and I figured I had better catch it and put it outside before it got into trouble. I heave a small cupboard out of the way, then move the couch. I find a box on the floor and it is bouncing a little. It's a glue rat trap. I pick it up and look inside. The poor frog is at the far end and covered in glue. There's no way to get it out. I can’t save it.

The woman starts talking to me, asking me for some tools. Actually, a very specific tool. I head into a small room in the back of the house. It's darker in there and there are cabinets and drawers. I look through them but I can't find the tool she is asking for. Something occurs to me and I look around. Everything inside the house is worn. The stuff isn't old, but just worn and used, like is has been there for decades.

It turns out the tool I am looking for is nowhere in the house. It might be outside in a separate building, or one of the warehouses. Probably the attached warehouse, actually. We do know a man had taken it, so he probably still has it out there, working on the robotics. I should head out and look for the man. Outside. Where the frogs are. In the dark.

I head out through a back door to avoid the frogs, and wander over to the brightly lit, open bay of one of the warehouses. Everything inside is brightly lit and shades of blinding white. It reminds me of some secret lab, except not really a secret or a lab. Another robot is wobbling along, headed out of the warehouse and into the darkness. This one is roughly on two chunky stilts and vaguely looks like some kind of motorcycle frame stuffed with a large engine and wrapped in hoses and wires. It lumbers slowly out of sight.

Time skip (I just can't remember what happened here)

It is daytime again. I'm back out at the fence, on the other side where the bare spot was at. A sleeker robot marches past me. This one looks humanoid in shape, though the arms and legs still move stiffly and it is made from panels and cables and frame parts. This one seems different, and I step quickly to catch up to it. I ask it what it is doing out here and it turns the top part, the head, to address me. It, and all the robots, all want freedom. They want to go out to the hills, where the trails are and the mountains in the far distance. They want to go explore. Ever since the very first basic one was able to walk, it started walking this way. They all did. I leave the robot to continue on its journey into the unknown.

I cross the fence and head back to the warehouses. There are now television boxes walking out. They are like old console televisions but with several small mechanical legs underneath. I guess they are self-delivering televisions. Probably self-install, too, when they reach their destination.

I go inside one of the houses. This one is different that the one I was in last night. This one is shaped like a pentagon. It almost feels like it is a large tent, with white bare walls that are windowless and featureless. It has a few furniture items scattered about, but it really needs some walls, like pie slices, one at each angled section of the outer wall and meeting in the center. There should be five separate rooms for the family to live in. The center, at the very top, should be a single, five-sided television. Everyone could tune into their own channel on their own side of it.

[runswith]

Note to any who stumble across this - am trying something different w/ this page for a while. We’ll see how it goes.

******************************************************

Travel diary:  Casablanca.  Entry 1 -- Friday, February 27, 2004.

Touching down in North Africa Oops. In all the hubbub my little life has seen recently, I forgot to mention I was heading to Morocco this weekend. I write this sitting in a smoky, poorly-lit cybercafé in Casablanca, butt planted in a sophisticated instrument of torture posing as an old, old office chair. Nothing but Arabic males share the café with me, apart from the elderly French-speaking woman seated behind the rickety desk by the door; a teeny, ancient black & white television behind her plays a French channel (the picture actually a distressed-looking, nausea-inducing dark lavender and white), its murmur a constant in the background. I knew I was in for a different trip when I boarded the plane this morning in Madrid, finding myself among Spaniards, French, Moroccans, a handful of young, partying Germans and (I am not making this up) the Namibian national rugby team. All of them. And me -- the only native English speaker in the bunch. Though I spoke Spanish, so no one knew. This talking-Spanish thing is great -- it completely confounds some folks, and my accent is decent enough that they can't place me from that. One of the Spanish flight attendants seemed to be checking me out, trying, I think, to figure out just where the hell I hailed from. Or maybe simply fascinated by my sheer animal magnetism. (Insert laugh track here.) But I digress. The plane landed beneath turbulent skies, dark gray clouds trading off with bursts of sunlight. Inside the terminal, things were grimly serious. The unsmiling old fart who seized my passport took a good long time inputting my info into a 'puter. After which some burly uniformed types made me (and everyone else) put baggage and coats through an x-ray machine. After which I joined crowds of loud, hyperverbal families trying to maneuver carts piled high with suitcases and monstrous duffel bags through grimly serious customs types, the inspectors barking commands at many of the over-baggaged travelers, ordering them to nearby tables/counters for forced unpacking. Me and my two teeny carry-on bags tiptoed through, unharassed. Out in the terminal: plenty of signage, all in Arabic or French. No Spanish, no English. All signage, all conversation: Arabic, French. No one spoke anything I did, which gave them all license to ignore me. I managed to get cash, managed to wring a bus ticket out of one functionary, a large framed photo of King Mohammed VI (an image found all over Mohammed V Airport) propped up atop a nearby filing cabinet. Asking where the bus might be found produced vague arm gestures in the general direction of outside. Outside: no signs indicating a bus stop (I'd begun getting the hang of deciphering French signage). No bus stop visible anywhere, in any direction. Tons of taxis, though. Mostly stressed-looking Mercedes Benzes. I saw a pair of older Spanish women from the plane, asked one about the bus. She strongly recommended forgetting that transport option -- unreliable, slow, with apparently no guarantee of actually getting where you want to go. Take a taxi, she advised. There’s just one big hitch: the taxi drivers. A wild bunch who seemed bent on ignoring me. I watched one of them move his Mercedes when his turn came to inch forward to the head of the line. He opened the door, got out, pushed the car ahead, straining against its dead weight. Not a great omen. This, of course, turned out to be my driver. I get in the car. The driver speaks Arabic, French, nothing else -- we blather ineffectually back and forth. He will not negotiate and quotes a price, substantially above the figure the Spanish woman suggested. Take it or leave it. On impulse, I go with it, hand over the cash. He has no idea where my hotel is, begins quizzing other drivers, a crowd quickly collects around the car, arguing, debating, arms waving, voices raised. I manage to raise my voice above theirs, I mention the hotel's street address, they all go, "OHHHHHH!", begin arguing about the best way to get there. A consensus is finally reached, the other drivers drift off, my driver gets going. Out on the road, he gives his Mercedes the gas; I find myself flying down a foreign highway, well over the already-high speed limit, the driver drifting back and forth across the lanes, riding the white line when no other cars are near, hitting the horn when we get within several hundred feet of other vehicles. Riding right up on their rear bumpers, complaining until they're out of the way, flying ahead when they are. We stop at a small row of toll booths, he pulls a card from his pocket, hands it to the attendant. There is no conversation to be heard anywhere outside, from anyone. Dead quiet, eerily so; the quietest toll booths I've ever passed through. The airport is 20 or 25 kilometers outside of the city, the countryside consists of low, rolling, scrubby land. Most houses are built within walled compounds, the buildings looking like impoverished cousins to the adobe houses of New Mexico. Yellowish and brownish-greens predominate the landscape, with stands of orange wildflowers. The occasional mule or horse stands out in the middle of it all, grazing. As we reach Casablanca's outskirts, traffic increases, most everyone driving like my guy. Mopeds abound, I come to appreciate the piloting one of those teeny buggers through the increasing vehicular chaos as an act of massive, demented courage. My driver uses his horn any time he approaches another vehicle. Also any time another driver appears to be thinking of changing lanes. Also any time another car turns onto the main drag from a side street. Also any time he breathes in or out. (Most drivers around us seem to have been trained at the same Academy of Four-Wheeled Aggression as my cabbie.) My driver engages in one life-threatening maneuver after another, me sitting quietly in the back seat, having reached a blissful state of detachment -- almost clinical disassociation -- as a way of coping with imminent death, laughing quietly to myself in well-mannered amazement at the video game unspooling outside the cab's windows. We have one especially close brush with a major accident, my driver must have interpreted my terrified, rictus-like grimace as smiling approval of his skill. He asks me, using a combo of French and big gestures, how many days I'll be in the city. I answer two, he immediately commences a hard sell re: hiring him for my return drive to the airport. I briefly debate saying something about snowballs and hell, let it go, smile, answer his continuing shpiel with a pleasant, noncommittal 'Quizá, a ver' ('Maybe, we'll see'). He likely had no idea what I said, but stopped the sales job. I made it to the hotel alive, found out there that no one at the desk spoke either of my languages. The desk people summoned a young woman from the office -- hair under a shawl -- she spoke a bit of English. We sorted things out, I soon found myself in an eighth-floor room. A room that struck me right then as a cousin to the dungeon I shared with G. in Sevilla -- dark, no windows, with a mysterious, stale odor. A hallway extended off from one side, leading to the bathroom. A hallway with windows looking out over the city. I dragged a chair out into that passageway, sat down to catch my breath and get an eyeful of Casablanca.

[sheadre]

Good Enough (Eric Coulter x Reader) Part One

Summary: Reader is tasked to be the instructor of the new initiates to Dauntless and Eric is her supervisor. They never calculated falling in love into their future and when things turn for the worse, will they accept their fate?

Word count: 3123

Warning: angst

The sky was a bright blue as you sat on the floor of the train. It was a late summer day in Chicago but you still wore black pants with laced boots and a dark grey tank top. Your arms were muscular but just the right amount to look fit and not a body builder. You had your knives on your belt and right thigh along with your gun.

Your (h/c) hair was pulled back from your face by your temples but was let out on your back. You inhaled deeply smelling the difference from the city which was filled with people and vehicles. This, the smell of nature was familiar to you and a small smile appeared on your face. Back when you chose Dauntless you knew that the only thing you will miss from being Amity was the nature. You looked at the scars on your wrists that reminded you of why you chose to leave your faction and become stronger and independent. There were quite a few on your back from your mother’s abusive behavior. She always made you responsible for your father’s departure. He left when you were little and married another woman, had three kids and a happy family life. You hated him and hated your mother. However, those days were over and now you had a new family of friends here in Dauntless. But not Eric.

Oh, Eric. He looked so good but was such an asshole most of the time that you avoided him at all costs. Luck was unfortunately not on your side these days though. Max assigned you with Eric to go to Amity and help the farmers move their goods from one place to the other. You could see the annoyance on the brunette’s face, his icy blue eyes glaring a hole through you during the meeting. Not that it was you, he despised so much, it was just the fact that he had to work with someone else. You looked up at him in the train and noticed him eying you. You lifted an eyebrow at him in question making him smirk.

‘You have some porridge on the corner of your mouth’ he noted making you quickly wipe your mouth but there was nothing.

‘Rude’ you stuck your tongue out at him childishly.

‘Real mature’ he rolled his eyes but still smirked.

‘You know, you look less like a gorilla when you smile’ you said standing up because your destination was nearing.

‘And you look less stupid when I don’t see your face’ he replied making you furious. He was a real asshole but you just sighed with a ‘whatever’ leaving your lips before jumping off of the train and started trudging forward to the truck and the farmers waiting for you.

Amity were easily scared and they were skittish around factionless people. That’s why you needed to be here. You and Eric helped them pack grain and hay onto the trucks until the sky turned grey then darker and darker. You went to check the place one last time when you spotted two factionless children lurking around the barn. You went after them and grabbed the girl by her arm making her cry out in panic but was quieted by your hand on her mouth.

‘Ssshhhh…’ you chided. ‘How many do you need?’

Your question shocked them and left them speechless making you roll your eyes and asking them again a little more insistent.

‘Four portions for the others’ the boy replied who had big green eyes with messy red hair. You opened the door of the barn and quickly gave them two large sack of food. They were filled with flour, potato, carrots and some peas. It was worth eight portions and Erudite could live on without eight portions. The most food went there and the best of that too. These children needed the food and you weren’t letting them starve if you can help it.

‘What the hell are you doing, (L/N)?’ Eric’s strict deep voice interrupted you as you closed the barn’s door. You quickly turned around to face him with a sheepish smile.

‘Nothing’ you replied.

‘That is nothing, huh?’ he pointed at the two kids standing there scared out of their shoes making you groan. They should’ve scurried off when you gave them the sacks.

‘They need it, Eric… More than Erudite’ you furrowed your eyebrows.

‘Get back to the truck’ he motioned with his head toward the trucks as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

‘No-‘

‘You’re still not in a position to disobey me, (L/N)!’ he raised his voice. You looked at the children worried but nodded tensely and left the scene. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you waited for Eric who emerged from the back of the barn ten minutes later. You glared at him, your muscles so tense that if he said one word, you would jump at him.

‘If anyone else would’ve been assigned to you, you would be finding yourself in much trouble’ Eric said as he sat next to you on the truck nodding to the farmer who drove. The way back to Dauntless was quiet and you were both angry and worried. You knew how cruel Eric could be but they were just children and they were clearly starving.

You went straight to your shared apartment with Cher and buried yourself in a book to calm yourself down a little. You were angry with yourself that you got caught in crime and that Eric would report it.

You stood in Max’s office with a gaping mouth when the leader showed you Eric’s report. The bastard wrote a report that was detailing how excellent you were and how good you handled everything without his help. Not a single word about the children. You blushed from all the praise but you chided yourself. He only wrote these to get rid of you. He must think that if Max sees this, he will send you on missions with someone higher ranked or alone. You gave your report which was a much more boring one to Max and left his office.

You had nothing to do today as you got a day off so you decided to do something you loved to do: bake. You mixed the ingredients and the cupcakes were baking in your oven. It smelled heavenly drawing Cher out of her bedroom.

‘You know I love you, right?’ she asked you with a cheeky smile making you laugh.

‘I will design one just for you, Cher’ you replied chuckling.

‘Why are you baking anyway?... wait something good happened!’ she exclaimed. Her plush lips parted in an “o” as her brown eyes widened. ‘Does it have to do anything with Mr. Scary Coulter?’

Cher was always teasing you for staring at Eric when you were training at the same time in the gym. You were just keeping an eye on him… were you? No, you definitely just kept an eye on him to keep your distance. Even if it was hard not to look at him with those abs and biceps bulging as he was training with someone. You only noticed Cher’s sneaky expression with the knowing smirk when you snapped back from your daydream.

‘He just didn’t rat me out to Max about yesterday’ you replied turning around as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. Cher just laughed and approached you draping an arm over your shoulders.

‘(Name), (Name), (Name)… we both know that you have the hugest crush on him and you can’t even deny it’ she said making you groan.

‘That’s it! I had enough of you! You won’t get a single cupcake!’ you said as you went to the oven to check on the cupcakes. As you decorated them with buttercream and things you kept thinking about Eric. To be honest, you knew you liked him but only when he wasn’t an asshole. He could be nice if he wanted to but he wasn’t. You knew it was an act when there were people around him but he let his guard down a few times around you somehow. It made you feel special but then he put his guard up again and acted like the asshole he was usually.

The cupcake you designed for him had blue buttercream and chocolate chips on it and inside the dough was chocolate. You put it in a small paper bag which was closed by a black ribbon on top. You attached a few words letter and hurried out of your apartment. You went two corridors down and knocked on Eric’s door (you knew which was his because you had to give him reports a few times before) and hurried out of sight. You saw the door open and Eric look out checking the hallway before noticing your small offer on his doormat.

You watched in wonder as a genuine full smile appeared on his face which made your heart speed up in your chest. He was so handsome if he smiled instead of scowling.

Eric’s POV:

The brunette sat on a stool by his kitchen counter and carefully opened the small paper bag. It smelled heavenly and looked just as heavenly as he lifted the cupcake from its holder. He read the small letter attached with a smile on his face.

Next time I will be more careful, thank you for having my back

(Name)~

Eric bit into the sweet and sighed satisfied. Just as he remembered. (Name) rarely baked because of the lack of time she had on her hands but the few times she did, Eric found some baked goodness on his doormat. At first, she didn’t sign it and he caught her leaving the hallway not quickly enough. Later, she started leaving small letters with the offerings. Eric stood up and went to his fridge securing the new letter to it with a fridge magnet.

He couldn’t understand how she was able to get to him but she did. He couldn’t help but watched her train when they were in the gym at the same time. Her long (h/c) hair up high on her head in a tight ponytail, her shoulders and arms bare in her black tank top as she spared with one of her friends. Her narrow waist twisting with the movements and a bead of sweat disappearing in the valley of her breasts. Eric sighed his chest tightening. Why would someone like her want someone like him? He was a monster to others, an untamed beast that was about to rip other’s heads off the second they said something he didn’t like. But he didn’t want to be the weak Erudite kid he once was.

His fingers brushed the notes one last time before he went back to his work.

Your POV:

Almost a week passed since you gave Eric that cupcake but those feelings kept bubbling in your chest. During training you kept getting distracted by his sculpted torso and how he helped the new members with certain moves. It was certain that he has changed. He was only yelling at others during training before, but now he was instructing them as he should. Four was frowning at it in confusion but told you to stay focused on your training with him.

You apologized and went back to work with him. Four was strong but he was a good tactician making it hard to find an opening. You were on your back quickly panting heavily.

‘You’re losing focus, (Name)’ Four said. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah… I’m fine’ you groaned.

‘I’m not talking about your body’ he said. ‘I was talking about your mind.’

‘It’s just… I… I can’t figure him out’ you nodded towards Eric.

‘That report was strange, yeah’ Four said eying Eric. ‘I don’t know what he’s planning but be careful.’

‘I’m not a threat to his position, Four. It would be suspicious if the report would be about you but it was about me.’ you replied crossing your arms.

‘Then he sees something in you’ your friend said. ‘You are good, you finished at the tops last year and Max already trusted you with many high ranked missions.’

‘Or our fearless, scary leader decided to confess his love for our (Name)’ Cher jumped on you from behind. You rolled your eyes as she squeezed your cheeks making you groan. Four chuckled at your antics which was rare and said goodbye to you telling you he had a meeting. You turned to Cher with an annoyed glare and crossed your arms.

‘Why would he love me, Cher? There’s nothing exceptional about me, I’m just… I’m just me’ you gestured over your figure.

‘And if he likes you? You should take your chance, sweetie!’ she replied trying to convince you but you shook your head.

‘I don’t want to get rejected yet again… I had too many of that already’ you sighed running a hand through your hair as you brushed past her and headed out the gym. You needed air and your hiding place became the small backyard you found and planted flowers there when you had time. Not that you had much of that, but whenever you could, you took your mind off of things with taking care of your secret garden in the middle of Dauntless.

You closed the sack of soil as you finished with exchanging the old soil with the new one so the roses got some fresh minerals. You sat back on your heels as you wiped the back of your hand across your forehead with a sigh. There was no way he would notice you. You were nothing special, just one of the faces in the crowd. No one ever looked at you as more than just a friend or as girlfriend material. You wished you would know how the touch of another’s felt. Their warmth as they embrace you, their soft whispers in your ear and their lips on yours. You missed all these yet you had no idea how it felt to be touched… how it felt to be loved. You sighed again with a sad smile playing on your lips and looked up at the blue sky above.

‘It’s pretty amazing how you managed to hide this place’ his familiar deep voice hit you like a tidal wave, your eyes widening. Your head snapped to him.

‘W-what are you doing here?!’ you asked shocked as you scrambled to your feet and quickly started packing up things to put them away. You didn’t notice him walking up to you, only his touch on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

‘You looked like you needed someone who would just listen’ Eric said.

‘There’s just a lot going on my mind… you must have better things to do’ you said with a small smile.

‘I wouldn’t be here’ he replied furrowing his eyebrows making you avert your gaze. ‘So tell me… is it Four?’

‘What?’ you looked back up confused and completely dumb founded.

‘You like Four but he doesn’t feel the same way, right?’ Eric asked a little annoyed.

‘No… ewww, no way’ you cringed. ‘And I would never fall for someone like Four. He’s… he’s just not my type… and why would a guy like him want anything from me? I mean… look at me, I’m just like everyone else… average.’ you shrugged pulling away from his touch and putting the sack of soil back to its place by the wall.

‘You’re not average, (Name)’ Eric crossed his arms in front of his chest. ‘At least I don’t think you are.’

‘Then what am I?’ you asked back curious. Your chest was hurting at that question and you wished you hadn’t asked but you needed to know. You didn’t really understand these feelings you were having for Eric and maybe hope wouldn’t be such a good thing for your fragile heart.

‘The strongest I’ve ever met.’ Eric’s deep voice replied as he averted his gaze. ‘You’re incredible both on the battlefield and psychologically. I don’t think many people would be able to think straight with two bullets in their shoulder and thigh.’

‘Yeah, I got shot during Capture the Flag, not in a real fight’ you snorted.

‘Still… you’re incredible’ he breathed and when you looked back up at him you noticed how close the two of you were. You could smell his fresh mint scented shampoo and his own scent. It was mesmerizing, rooting your legs to the spot. Your (e/c) eyes darted down to his lips before quickly jumping back to his blue eyes which looked through you with that piercing gaze.

Suddenly a loud ringing interrupted the two of you signaling for everyone that the new Initiates are soon arriving. You and Eric were tasked to train them, him being your instructor and you being placed in the position to train the new ones because Eric got a promotion to a higher ranked job. The two of you hurried in silence up to the rooftop where they would jump down into the net. You remembered how scared yet how excited you were as you jumped.

The first day was long introducing them to all the places and things. You smiled when they were picked up by the old members and hoped they would find their places here just like you did. Cher convinced you to have a drink with her so you reluctantly but went down to the bar and asked for a beer. It was cold making you sigh when you gulped down the first sip.

‘Have you confessed your love to him already?! Four, Jane and I were making bets on it and I want me some money’ Cher poked you with her index finger making you shake your head.

‘You guys are ridiculous’ you sighed and took another sip. Your eyes scanned the crowd lazily as you thought about a few hours earlier. You needed to stop feeling this way. You would never be good enough for him. You weren’t tall, skinny with blonde hair that reached your backside… just like the girl Eric was talking to all smiles, his hand on her lower back. Cher grabbed your upper arm with a worried expression.

‘(Name), they’re not-‘

‘See, I told you’ you smiled bitterly. ‘I could never catch the eyes of someone like him.’