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lieslab · 16 days

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Daddy issues

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: A simple phone call from your father and Chan's added anger makes you mentally crumble.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

Trigger warning: Parental issues, (specifically daddy issues) emotional abuse and neglect, physical abuse, a bit of an unhealthy romantic relationship, anger, self-hatred, blood, self-harm, mentions and attempt of suicide via razor blade, and a panic attack.

A/N: Even without the request, I feel like this has been a long time coming. Please heed the trigger warnings. Please. Shout out to all the baddies out there with parental issues. Shout out to all the Chan stans with daddy issues. You're so strong, keep going, I believe in all of you <3

Requestee, I hope this leaves you satisfied. I don't think you ever said you were struggling, but just by this, it seems you are. I hope this helps you cope with whatever struggles you either have had or currently are facing in life.

I did change a few things around to fit the story more, but most of it's the same. I think I got everything you wanted in there, besides those few minor changes. I also experimented with time jumps which is new, but I think they were needed for this one. This is a long one, so buckle up and please enjoy!! <3

_ _ _

The words are thrown around without much thought. Daddy issues this and mommy issues that. People wear them like a badge of honor. Always seeking out other people that can fill the gaps that their parents left behind. Searching for temporary band-aids to cover wounds that need stitches to heal.

Everyone wants to be perfect. Nobody wants to admit that the people who were supposed to love them the most fucked them up the worst. Nobody ever wants to admit that their nurture was ripped away before they ever got it. Cruelty swaddled them instead of sweetness. Neglect and despair instead of encouragement and understanding. Some people were doomed from the start.

At twenty-two years old, you understood that your daddy issues were a noose around your neck, they were always there. A poking twine that pressed against your windpipe and jugular. All it took was a few words and the noose tightened. It was suffocating, it was restricting, and it was paralyzing.

There was a devil and an angel on each shoulder. One was angry and smoldering. Smoke bellowed out of its ears and it was always ready to snap. The other was an angel, sweet and soft-spoken, constantly reassuring you that you had it better than most. Of course you did because, at least, you had a dad, right?

Any dysfunctional relationship could cause a rocky conscience. You swore you were doomed from the start. You’d never fall in love. Nobody would be able to care about you in the way you wanted them to. At least, it was like that until Bang Chan.

When Chan came into your life, you fell hard. You didn’t get a chance to stand before your knees were jerked out beneath you. He was strong, he was charming, he was dominating, and he was everything you wanted him to be.

Being older meant he had more wisdom and more life experience. He was soaked with the knowledge that you craved. He understood you, he got you, and heading towards his later twenties, he was hesitant when you showed up. While you turned twenty-five, he’d be thirty.

You didn’t let that stop you from wowing him. From caring about him with every fiber of your being, you would have given up everything to appease him and more. Hell, if he experienced organ failure, you’d cut yourself open without a second thought and rip it from your insides with a smile on your face. You were down bad, but your issues were still there.

You were aware of them when you seeked out his validation. When you kept asking if he was sure he still loved you. You couldn’t shake everything that your father had ingrained in you, but you were still so desperate to fill that void.

Some would say it’s weird, but you would say that you needed him to survive. You needed him. He was the air in your lungs and the familiar thump of your heart. You needed him as much as plants needed the sun. Like the Earth needed the moon and like bees needed pollen. You called it destiny whereas a few of your family members called it desperation, but they didn’t understand it. They just…didn’t get it. They had no idea what you had been through. They didn’t understand the gaping wounds that had yet to be stapled, but Chan got it instantly.

He realized it after you swayed the conversation in another direction at the mention of your family. He knew it when fathers were brought up and the hurt flashed across your eyes. He knew it when you clung to him like a koala with fear and asked for clarification on his thoughts about you.

You were damaged and he knew that. He didn’t mind because everyone had their issues and besides, at the end of the day, he still loved you as you were. He was thrilled to wrap his arms around you when you curled around him and point out everything he loves about you.

From the squish of your soft cheeks, the curve of your nose, the shade of your eyes, and the way you dress, he loved it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly, he gave the relationship his all; you both did. No matter how much the guys joked that he was a silver fox, he always rolled his eyes and shook off their comments. They were just joking and he knew that deep down, the guys cared about you too.

He knew a lot about you, but he didn’t realize just how much these issues bothered you. He didn’t realize that you were nearly suffocating yourself. Out of all the things he knew, he had no idea how much you silently suffered until you snapped.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The day started a lot like any other day. You went to work and by the time you finished, you found a text message from Chan announcing that he’d be at the studio later tonight. It was one of those days where the creative juices were overflowing and he wanted to get everything worked out before he forgot.

You didn’t mind it and started to head home, but then you thought about the dimpled smile and sparkly eyes of Chan. God, you were utterly smitten. With a quick change of direction, you found yourself heading towards the JYP studio instead of your apartment.

Give or take twenty minutes and you were walking into your second home. The JYP building truly has become your home away from home. You came here a lot to support Chan and the guys. It was strange having an extra person along, but eventually, they grew used to your antics.

The guys accepted you with open arms and when you came around, they got excited. Sometimes you brought presents, like cookies. Other times, just your brief distraction sidetracked them from their ongoing issues. That temporary change of direction helped them sort out their issues quicker.

You checked in at the front desk and pulled on your guest badge. It was a new system that the company had been doing after a sasaeng had managed to gain access to the building. If you were found roaming the halls without a pass or a security badge, you were instantly booted unless you could properly explain yourself.

You tugged the lanyard over your head and practically skipped to the studio room. Upon knocking, the door opened to reveal Changbin. A grin pressed his cheeks up into points. “Hi!”

“Hey,” you returned the smile, “is Ch-”

He jerked the door open wider to reveal Chan in the background. Chan was directing whoever was in the booth. You picked up Felix’s deep voice in the background. Chan was sitting in a hoodie and a pair of navy blue basketball shorts. He bobbed his head along to the voice.

“You can come in, just try to keep it down because we’re rec-”

“You’ve got it.”

He opened the wooden door wider and you stepped inside. In the booth, headphones were over Felix’s ears. His messy blonde hair had been pushed around by the band connecting the ear covers.

His eyes focused on the lyrics as he sang. You slung your bag to the side and smiled as you saw Jeongin sitting on the opposite side of the couch. The two of you exchanged a wave and you quietly came to sit beside him on the opposite side.

Changbin snuck back into the chair beside Chan and Felix continued to sing. After a few more seconds, Felix’s voice cracked and he stopped singing. “Fuck!” He cried out.

“I don’t ever recall that being part of the song,” Jeongin mumbled.

“Yeah, what Innie said,” Changbin agreed.

Chan stopped the recording with a sigh. He pressed a button, so Felix could hear him in the booth. “Felix, is something wrong today? This is the fourth time your voice has cracked. Do you need us to change the lyrics or-”

“No! No! No! Of course, I don’t need you to change the lyrics! It’s just the pitch of the song. It’s so high and I’m really trying my best here, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it or not and oh-” His eyes brightened when he saw you. “When did you get here?”

Chan shifted in his seat and blinked when he saw you behind him. You smiled softly at him. “Hi, baby.”

“What are you doing here? I told you that I’d be home late.”

“I know, but I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m busy.”

“I’m fully aware. I have no intention of stopping you from working. I’ll sit here silently without a peep. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

Felix and Changbin both shot him a glare. Changbin’s fingers jabbed into Chan’s side. Chan was worked up and stressed because Felix wasn’t getting this part of the song. It wasn’t just Felix that had struggled, everyone was struggling.

Chan had created the instrumentals of this song and thought it’d be a home run, but he hadn’t considered how much the pitch would be a struggle for some of the guys. He was frustrated because if they couldn’t reach the right note, the song would have to be scrapped and he was distracted by other songs he wanted to work on.

Seungmin’s silky and strong vocals weren’t the same as Felix’s deeper tone. Han’s wide range of vocals wasn’t the exact same as what Minho was comfortable with. Songs could be challenging and this seemed to be the biggest challenge yet.

Luckily for you, you hadn’t heard Chan’s mumble because your phone vibrated in your hands. You swiped the screen before thinking and held the phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

When Chan rolled his eyes, Changbin slapped him in the back of the head. “What is your issue today?” He whispered. “Knock it off and stop being an asshole.”

“We’re busy and-”

“So tell them to leave and don’t be an asshole about it.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a significant other always up your ass.”

“You're the world’s biggest asshole right now and unless you want to lose them, I’d drop the attitude. Just because you’re frustrated, it doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. Use your words, you’re supposed to be the oldest in the room, so act like it.”

“Oh, so you’re finally picking up the phone this time?”

Your father’s voice in your ear caused your heart to sink to your stomach. The blood in your veins turned to ice. You shut your eyes before responding. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy recently and I-”

“Busy my ass. You can text your mother, but not me? I was the one who created you and you still can’t be grateful for that. Without me, you’d be nothing.”

“I’ve been texting the family group chat and I-”

“You know damn well that I don’t give a shit about no family group chat!”

You winced and pushed yourself up. Jeongin stared at you with a raised eyebrow. When you noticed, you flashed him a smile and held up a finger to let him know that you’d only be a minute. Before anyone could say anything, you disappeared outside the room and into the empty hallway.

“What do you want?”

“Is it a crime to want to know how my child is doing?”

Your stomach twisted into thoughts as your father scoffed. A frown appeared on your face and, even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but it’s difficult to find time to talk when we’re on different time zones and-”

“Bullshit! You’re an ungrateful piece of shit! I gave you this goddamn life and you can’t even come visit! I have to find out from Google that you’re dating an idol! What have you told him? Why won’t he come visit?”

“Nothing!” Your voice squeaked in shock. “I haven’t told him anything, he’s just so busy. He’s in a band and we-”

“Then bring him down here, so your mother and I can meet him! What happened to respecting your parents? I didn’t even give you permission to date him!”

As his voice raised louder, you tugged the phone away from your ear. A lump began to form in your throat as curse words were thrown your way. You shut your eyes and waited for him to calm down. Your hands were shaking as you mumbled into the phone.

“I think I’m losing reception, I’ll call you back in a while.”

“Don’t you fucking hang up on m-”

The click ended his words before he got out the sentence. All at once, the weight of everything fell on top of you. Insult after insult wormed deeper and deeper into your brain. You wanted, you needed, to speak to Chan. You weren’t strong enough to deal with this on your own yet.

You shoved your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and pushed the door open. Felix was singing again and your fingers curled into your palms. “Chan?” Your voice came out hoarse. “Can we talk for a moment?”

The sound of your voice caused Jeongin to look up with a face full of worry. Even Changbin glanced behind his shoulder to check on you. When Felix caught Changbin’s head turning, he looked up to find you rapidly blinking back tears. His singing stopped and Chan’s fist flew into the desk.

The rattling of the desk shook your soul. It started everyone, but you the most. Suddenly, you were five years old again in the back of your father’s van. You were weak and vulnerable. Defenseless, there was nothing you could do as your father’s wrath expanded along the four locked doors.

You sucked it in and you couldn’t breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do. You were five and yet the anger of a thousand angry men was cast at you.

It vibrated the marrow in your bones. The strands of your heart strings curled inward. Your childlike curiosity shattered in the backseat. Stay quiet, don’t utter a word, just take the yelling. Like a deer in headlights, you were trapped.

It funneled down your throat and created a lump. Crocodile tears appeared in your eyes. You sniffled and your bottom lip shook, you were alone once more. Alone in the thunder and anguish; the swirl of one man’s anger.

A flower in the middle of a tornado. Thrown, chucked, depetaled. Ripped from the stem and crushed between the winds. At the end, you were ripped to shreds and utterly defeated. Not even the thorns of your own stem could save you.

“Goddammit! Why can’t you just go home? I’m trying to work here and you’re ruining it! I don’t have time for you right now! Go home and I’ll deal with your bullshit later. This is my career we’re talking about!”

The song’s soft instrumentals faded in the background as the song ended. You couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down your cheeks. It stung more than you ever would have imagined. The words were a sharp sting to your cheek. The noose of daddy issues choked you again and you couldn’t breathe.

“See you later,” you mumbled as you tipped your head down and rushed towards the door. You pawed at your tears and rushed into the hall and down the corridor to head home.

“What the fuck was that for?” Changbin snapped.

“We’re working!”

“And they were crying! If you would have taken five seconds to look behind you, you would have-”

“Don’t try to guilt trip me! It’s bullshit! I probably hurt their feelings. Whatever. We have work to do. I’ll apologize later.”

While the two bickered, Jeongin stepped up and disappeared out the door to try and find you. Whatever you were struggling with, it hadn’t been good. Chan’s outburst had only made it worse and he knew that. He saw the terror in your eyes when the other person responded on the opposite end of the phone.

Felix looked from Chan’s angry face to Changbin’s scowl. When he caught Jeongin rushing out the door after you, his confusion only grew. “What’s happening?” He asked into the microphone.

Chan slammed his hand down on the button, so Felix could hear him. “Don’t worry about it. Get out of the booth, we’re going to take five.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As you walked home in the whipping wind, your hair tangled around your head. It blocked your vision and the gray skies added to your warped reality. It felt like everyone and everything was against you.

That was the one fatal flaw with humans. When we enter a dark mindset, it’s the only thing we think about. The only thing we feel is the harsh and back-breaking weight of the world on our shoulders. The clouds close in and all feels lost as the rain pours down.

You walked quickly with your head down. Keeping to the sidewalks, you were nearly running. You were moving so fast that by the time Jeongin made his way outside the studio, you were already halfway down the road. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to frighten you. He kept his pace brisk, but he didn’t run.

He loved Chan for a wide variety of reasons, but he couldn’t believe he had just snapped at you like that. Of course, Chan was angry when he was mad, but this wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.

You sniffled and kept rushing as the wind cupped your ears. You were hollow on the inside. That faint flicker of light inside you had been kept going by Chan. It wasn’t the best idea to depend on one person to make you happy, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Your biggest fear has finally come true, everyone hates you. Maybe not to your face, but you can feel it. The bitter hatred that’s so vitriol, it’s rancid. A hatred that’s thicker than oil and stickier than jam.

You were looking at assumptions, not facts, but your brain was set in stone. No one would be able to save you now. You had fallen far from grace. Your issues had poisoned you from the start. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t meant for any of this life.

Perhaps, you would take a chance and try again in the next.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Jeongin knocked, you didn’t respond. He shoved the hair out of his face and tried again. When you didn’t respond to the softer knocks, he knocked harder. When you didn’t respond to that, he held his breath and turned the knob to your apartment.

Breaking and entering wasn’t something he would have liked to go to jail for, but could you blame him? He knew you were hurting and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone and sobbing.

Chan’s words to you had been far too cruel. Sure he was angry, but anyone in the right state of mind would have realized that something was terribly wrong with you. It was a gut feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake.

His brain was screaming at him to leave as he silently ventured further into the apartment. One step into the hall and then another. He didn’t bother with the common courtesy of kicking off his shoes.

The place smelled like sweet citrus. It was a familiar scent that had belonged to you since he had known you. Once upon a time, Chan marveled at how much you adored citrus. If only he would have been here now.

The carpeted hall felt too silent. The living room was too empty as he stepped out into it. Bookshelves filled with books, a coffee table with the TV remote, photographs of Chan and the rest of the band on the back wall. Your friends were your everything and so was Chan.

Where were the photos of your family, he wondered. It was such a simple thought, but it flew by just as quick. Your presence was here, but yet you weren’t. Where were you at?

He softly called your name and stepped by the coffee table. The bar table in the kitchen had been left abandoned. The hum of the fridge caused his heart to strum faster. There was an eeriness that he just couldn’t shake.

Every fiber of his being was wound up. Loose floorboards creaked beneath his feet. He was sure that he had seen you enter your apartment. From a distance, he watched your figure fumble for house keys and stumble inside. Your hands brushed past your face and he was positive you were wiping away the tears that kept blurring your vision.

He called your name a little louder, but there was no response. His mouth dipped into a frown and he uttered your name again when a faint whimper caught him off guard. His spine stood erected as he waited for another sound, but it never came.

As he approached the room it came from, he was prepared for sobs. He was prepared for tears. He was prepared for the anguish that came with it, but he wasn’t expecting the bright red that began to seep beneath the bathroom door.

His heart stopped and for a brief moment, he couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense. The circuit of his brain had stumbled across a trip. Something cut out and his brain whirled trying to reboot.

A scream ripped from his lungs as he rushed towards the bathroom and there you were. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even care or notice that he was there.

Full of self-hatred, you were cutting, no. You were sawing it out of you bit by bit. They don’t tell you that when you hate yourself, there is no pain in self-harm. It’s a dangerous sweet release. The stinging and burning sensation fills you with a sense of euphoric triumph. Self-mutilation feels like bliss and the cold blade in your hand feels like a friend. In some twisted way, it can be the best thing you ever feel.

There was blood everywhere. It dripped from the slices in your wrist. It saturated your clothes and it was all over the bathroom floor. Maybe you tripped and fell. Maybe you were set on killing yourself. Maybe you just snapped.

Human skin is so thin that it can easily be penetrated by a single piece of paper. So small, so little, and yet the fiery ache of pain is felt everywhere all at once. You couldn’t feel the fire in your arm. Gone into shock, your body had blocked you from feeling anything.

You weren’t even aware of Jeongin’s presence until he grabbed your arm. Your bloodshot eyes were watery as they met his concerned russet ones. “Please, stop,” he whispered.

With a snarl, you jerked your arm away from him. You started to scream and lash out. He grabbed your hand and pinned you down again.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yelled.

“Please, please, please stop.” His voice wavered. He was terrified for you and he didn’t want to make it worse. He knew how much Chan’s yelling earlier upset you. He didn’t want to trigger you further.

“Leave me alone!” Your shrill voice cracked from desperation. “Get off! Let go!”

“No!”

You swiped the blade down with your hand, nearly cutting him in the process. Your head bucked as you tried to free yourself. He ducked his head with a yelp.

He shoved your bleeding body back onto the floor. Your free hand flew up, in an attempt to stop yourself, but it didn’t work. Your brain rattled around your skull as you were blinded by the sudden pain of it all.

Jeongin panicked as he desperately used the code word to activate the voice command on his phone. When you heard “call Bang Chan,” you lost it even more.

“Stop it!” He begged as you squirmed again. Your hands flailed and you yelled back.

Back and forth back and forth, you refused to let go of the blade. You gripped it so hard that you didn’t care that the sharpened blade cut into your opposite palm. You were fighting tooth and nail to keep a tight grip on it. You weren’t going to let go. Not even Jeongin, one of your closest friends, could save you from the demons in your head.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In the studio, Chan was ready to slam his head into the wall himself. Changbin was non-stop lecturing him and once Felix found out, Felix was also up his ass. Nobody seemed to understand that they had a job to do.

When his phone rang, he used it as an excuse to leave the pair angrily grumbling to themselves. He stepped out the studio door, just as you had. He let out a sigh before he swiped and answered the call. “What do you want, Innie?”

A thump responded along with a yell. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I.N? What are you-”

“Put it down! Put the blade down! Stop it!”

His heart suddenly turned to ice. “I.N?” He whispered. “What is hap-” The response that you gave nearly dropped him to his knees.

“No one cares! Just let me die!”

He suddenly felt like he was about to projectile vomit. His stomach churned and twisted and the world felt a little blurry. “What is happening?” He raised his voice and began to yell at the phone. “Jeongin?”

“Alexa, speaker phone!” Jeongin cried out. “Chan, I can’t stop them! Please! I need you! I don’t know what to do! They won’t stop hurting themselves!”

The world stopped tilting on its axis. The seconds froze in time. His breath caught in the echo-chamber of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. Tears pricked in his eyes and he suddenly rushed down the hall.

“Don’t let them die! Do you hear me, Innie? Don’t let them die!”

He flew out of the JYP building like a bat out of hell. He clutched his phone, now on its own speaker phone. This path that he used to practically skip after work because he was so excited to see you. Now it could potentially be the path to your corpse.

“Fuck!” He cried out as the struggle continued on the other end of the phone.

“C-Chan?” You croaked weakly. “I don’t wanna do it anymore. I-I can’t.”

Guilt swallowed him whole. He could barely breathe as he ran. “Baby? Baby, can you hear me? It’s okay. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?”

“You hate me.”

“I could never hate you. I took it out on you earlier and I’m sorry.” His head jerked as he made sure he was pursuing the correct street. His footsteps thudded on the pavement.

“Listen to me, I need you to drop the blade. Can you do that to me? Listen to Innie and drop the blade. I’m coming, okay? I’m nearly there, just listen to my voice.”

To Jeongin’s relief and Chan’s surprise, there was a soft clatter as you released the blade from your hand. You were exhausted after fighting with Jeongin and the blood was starting to become tacky against your skin.

You hated the murky feeling that it left behind. Every movement of your wounded palm oozed more blood. Jeongin panted over your body. Your arms were pinned to your sides as he straddled you.

His own body was painted in your blood. Bright red handprints smeared across his white shirt. His light pair of blue jeans seeped it up like a sponge. There were even fingerprints staining his cheek from where you had swiped your hand at him.

“I’m almost there, I’m coming to the house right now. Where are you? What room?”

“Bathroom!”

Chan burst through the door and into the bathroom. His heart dropped when he found you pinned and nearly half unconscious. Blood was all over the floor. It was smeared against the bathroom cabinets and the tub.

Jeongin never took his eyes off you. He was too afraid that you’d find the blade again and do something worse. Chan ended the call and stepped over the puddle of blood leading into the bathroom.

He softly called your name and stepped beside you. Your eyes weakly met his. He felt like he was going to burst into tears. His knees buckled and he sank down beside you. He didn’t waste time grabbing a wet rag and shifting beside Jeongin.

“Innie, I’ve got it from here, go call an ambulance.”

Jeongin hesitated, but finally nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Before he left, he kicked off his shoes, so he didn’t trample blood into the rest of the house.

The realization of your situation sent shocks of electricity buzzing through your skull. “Fuck,” you muttered. Tears began to build up in your eyes and they trickled down your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-”

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to save your strength, okay?”

“I didn’t mean to,” your voice came out shrill.

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

The lining of your lungs seemed to thicken as you struggled to breathe in. You squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like breathing through a straw. Your brain had expanded with every wrong thought and now you were suffering.

“Baby?” Chan whispered. He leaned forward closer to you and placed his hand over the razor blade, so you couldn’t see it. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Panic attack?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“M-my dad,” your voice wavered. “I can’t-”

“You don’t have to talk.”

“Not a good relationship.”

“Is that who called you earlier?” His eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I assumed, but I didn’t know for sure.” He reached down and pushed a bit of hair from your face.

“He’s not good. H-he yells a-and-” You hiccuped, “abusive.”

“Oh, honey…I didn’t know. I-I was just so frustrated earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean to upset you and I-”

“I don’t feel good,” your eyes drooped further.

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that. Baby? Baby, listen to me!” Not caring about the blood, Chan cupped your face. “Don’t you dare give up! Stay with me!”

The last thing you heard were his desperate pleas as your eyes rolled back into your head.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When you finally came back home from the hospital, Chan forbade you from going to your apartment alone. Instead, he was nice enough to open up his dorm for you to use temporarily. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it was a manageable one for now.

Ever since you regained consciousness, everything had been so foggy, but you remembered bits and pieces. You remembered the wine colored blood and the fear on Jeongin’s face. You remember being unable to breathe and the desperation of Chan’s voice.

Maybe some part of you was glad that you couldn’t remember the entire thing. You weren’t sure that you wanted to remember traumatizing your boyfriend and your friend, at least, not the specific details.

Your hospital stay had ended up turning into a week-long stay. It turns out the hospitals don’t play when it comes to suicide attempts. You didn’t even try to deny it. There was a tender hurt inside of you that you had no clue how to fix.

It was a surprise when things that the mandated therapists were saying made sense. Sure, you knew things were wrong, but to hear validation from people, it made you feel a tiny bit better.

When you left, you promised to come back. There were parts of you that really did want to heal from all of this. You never wanted to put anyone through this ever again. When clarity came through at the hospital, you realized you didn’t really want to die, you just wanted the self-hatred festered inside your being to stop.

You wanted the negative energy to cease and you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be healed in ways you didn’t know how to heal. You wanted a lot of things and the therapists had promised that if you came back, they could start to help you turn things around, but you had to consciously make that decision.

You yourself had to focus on your own healing. It was hard and it was difficult. Healing is one of the hardest things a person can do for themselves, but it can be so rewarding. You don’t have to let your demons win.

“Fight back. Raise hell. Don’t let them win.” It was something another patient had said during a mandated group therapy. “I’m tired of letting the negative thoughts in my brain win. I want to live. I don’t want to just survive, I want to live.”

The more the people talked, the more you realized that you had some of what they were missing. Sure, your parents weren’t the best, but you had friends. You had a significant other. You had little things that some people craved.

For most of your time spent at the hospital, you were lost in your thoughts. You had barely uttered a few words to Chan. When Jeongin came in, you nearly collapsed into tears apologizing over and over again for scaring him.

He insisted it was fine, but you knew it wasn’t. Nothing you could do could ever take back the damage that you had given him. The nightmares, the trauma, it’d be something he might have to live with forever. Sure, it’d fade, but for now, it stuck to the back of his head like glue.

“So…” Chan’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The two of you were standing in the dorm living room. He had sent the rest of the guys over to the other dorm, so you could settle in. “Welcome to your new temporary home.”

This place really was your home. You had been here time after time again. These walls just might have known you better than your own apartment did. You glanced around and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I cleared out my room, so you can have it.”

“We’re not sharing?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Your hands tugged at the sleeves of your long sleeve shirt. Your fingers curled into them. The damage to your arm was so bad that doctors had a hard time fixing all the damage. They had also been concerned about infection since the wounds were so deep and there were multiple of them.

You played with the hems trying to find words to say. “I’m sorry,” you finally got out, “for everything.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is entirely my fault. I don’t know how to deal with things in a healthy way. I’ve been handling a lot on my own and I broke down. I snapped in the worst way possible. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?”

“Maybe you should be.”

He shook his head, “I could never be mad at you.”

You lowered yourself to the faux leather couch behind you and slowly took in a deep breath. “I have a lot of issues and I’ve always known they were there. I just…” You shrugged, “I didn’t think something like this would happen. I’ve struggled with self-harm before, but I snapped.”

He sat across from you and shifted his body to face you. “I’m really sorry I yelled at you that day. I shouldn’t have ye-”

“You were stressed and upset, it happens sometimes.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“The therapist says I have parental issues from my father and it has affected me in a variety of ways. In fact, she said it’s why I’m probably dating you.”

“What’s wrong with our relationship?”

“She said I need to stop leaning on you to fill the void that my dad left behind and I hate that she’s right.”

“Oh…” His face fell. “So does that mean we’re breaking up?”

“Do you want to?”

He shook his head. “I don’t, but what about you? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t wanna break up either.”

“So…”

“So I’ll attend therapy and work on my issues. I’ll attempt to stop relying on you to make me happy because it’s not healthy.”

“Yeah…”

There was an awkwardness between you. Neither knew what to say and nobody wanted to harm the other. Chan finally broke the silence. “Can I hold you?”

You shifted and crawled over towards him. He was careful of the stitches in your palm and in your opposite arm. You curled into his lap and he pulled you to his chest. Your head leaned against the familiar thump of his heartbeat. “I missed you,” you mumbled.

“I miss you too.” His lips kissed the top of your head. Your sweet scent engulfed him. He leaned his chin on your head and shut his eyes. The warmth of your body was enough to set his soul ablaze.

“My dad wasn’t a good man,” you finally mustered the courage to talk about it. “He called me at the studio and I didn’t read the caller ID. I just wanted to see you after a long day. When I left and went outside, he just started yelling and getting upset.”

“He’s verbally abusive and a hothead. Ever since I was a kid, he gets angry easily and he can’t control it. He throws things, he swings, and he’d destroy my things. I lived my life in so much fear because he’d threaten to disown me. My family never did anything about it, they just let it happen.”

Chan’s hand went to your back. He soothingly rubbed it while you spoke. “I had no idea.”

“I felt like I shouldn’t talk about it because some people don’t have fathers. I should be grateful that I even have a father and I-”

“You don’t have to be grateful to someone who frightens you and makes you hate yourself. That’s not what a father should be. I probably enhanced your fight or flight instinct when I yelled at you, I’m so sorry.”

“Every time I talk to him, I feel miserable. All of them, I’m so angry at all of them.”

“You don’t have to continue putting yourself through any of that. You don’t have to talk to the people that make you miserable. Please don’t keep putting yourself through all this distress, baby.”

“I just want to be happy.”

“And I have no doubt that you’ll get there soon, sweetheart. When you’re feeling at your worst, you don’t have to turn to self-harm. You can come find me, yeah? I’ll always be here for you. Now that I know what’s wrong, I’ll be sure to never act like I did that day. I don’t want to lose you.”

His arms tightened around your body and his lips found the top of your head again. “You mean so much to me. I can’t imagine a life without you. I’d be devastated if you weren’t here. If you ever feel like that, come find me and I’ll distract you.”

“But that’s such a burden for you to carry.”

“It’s not a burden if I love you.”

You finally picked your head up and looked at him with teary eyes. His own eyes were similar as they looked at you. Without asking, you leaned forward and your lips connected.

It was pure bliss…until it wasn’t. The front door to the dorm slammed open. The crack of it into the wall sent both of you pulling away from each other.

Hwang Hyunjin sashayed into the room with a pair of sunglasses, a towel around his neck, and a blue pool noodle over his shoulders. “Surprise, bitches!”

“Hyung, you have no manners,” Jeongin grumbled as he stepped in behind him. When his eyes found you, he beamed. “Hi!” He waved excitedly and rushed towards the two of you.

Minho stepped inside, grabbed the pool noodle from Hyunjin, and bonked him on the head with it. “You insensitive fuck! I told you they couldn’t swim due to stitches!”

“Ow!”

Minho bonked him again. “You’re lucky you’re getting a pool noodle to the head and not a fist to your pretty face.” He glanced over at you and grinned. “Sup?”

Chan sighed and kept his arms clamped around your back. “I’m so sorry about them. I didn’t have time to tell you that I invited all of them over to hang out for a game night and maybe some movies. We can order your favorite foods and w-”

“Hyung, look at all my snacks!”

“Mine too!”

Han and Felix walked inside with grocery bags full of snacks. They wasted zero time going to the coffee table and dumping them out. The pair beamed happily as they waited for your approval and you managed a soft smile.

“You two waste zero time making messes, don’t you? Hey,” Seungmin called out and he nodded towards you. “Glad you’re not dead. I can’t wait to-”

The sound of Changbin screaming your name at the top of his lungs caused your eyes to widen in shock. Thunderous footsteps sounded from the porch and rushed inside. Changbin rushed in grinning with his arms outstretched. He was getting closer and closer until a pool noodle slammed into his face.

He stumbled back dazed and Minho rolled his eyes. He handed the pool noodle back to Hyunjin and shook his head. “You are all unbelievable. You have zero manners.”

“Strike,” Seungmin mumbled beneath his breath.

You snorted which caused him to glance over and grin.

“This is okay with you, right?” Chan glanced down at you. “If it’s too much, I can ask them to go back and I-”

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I’m not sure about participating in games, because uh…” You gently shifted your bandaged arm hidden beneath your long sleeves. “Movie night and food sounds wonderful.”

“Ya-hoo!” Changbin cheered. “Let’s get this party started.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, snacks!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Minho ripped the pool noodle from Hyunjin’s hand and bonked him on the head again. A scowl filled Changbin’s face. “Let the guest pick first.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Hit him one more time and he’s going to lose the last brain cell he has,” Seungmin complained.

“Yeah!” Hyunjin agreed as he crossed his arms over his chest. Minho bonked Hyunjin over the head. He groaned and slumped into the recliner behind him. “Channie, hyung, he’s beating me up! He’s killing my brain cells too!”

“You idiot,” I.N huffed, “you don’t even have any to lose!”

“Hey!”

“So how have you been?” Felix asked as he got on his knees beside the couch. “Do you want a snack? Do you want to play Animal Crossing?”

“Or we could watch an anime?” Han offered with a cheeky smile. “Whatever you’re up for, we’re down with.”

“Exactly, whatever you want, babe.” Chan rubbed your back with some reassurance. “The guys and I got you.”

“Can I just observe you interacting with each other? There’s plenty of humor in that and I-”

“Oh, sure!” Minho beamed. He lifted up the pool noodle with a smirk. “Sit back and watch me play whack-a-mole.”

“Wait a minute!”

“Hey!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Without another word, Minho grinned as he started to take turns whacking the guys’ heads.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi

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#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stay #skz fanfic #bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #kpop fanfic #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan comfort #bang chan angst

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dailyadventureprompts · 24 days

Text

DM Tip: The Debt Always Comes Due

Isn't it weird how little we engage with gold as a real gameplay system? Sure, at low level wealth makes a great questhook, the party is usually hurting for a payout so that they can afford necessary gear upgrades/ubiquitous healing potion restocks/their next trip to the magic item shop. After a while though the promise of raw wealth loses its lustre, and the party is less likely to go out of their way to accept bounties, go off chasing treasuremaps, or accept gigs from shady patrons.

Generally I'd advise that this is a sign that your party are done being run of the mill sellswords, and it's time to hit them with a big epic questline that's focused more on emotional and narrative stakes than base currency. That said, sometimes you want to run a longer adventure arc that's centred around the acquisition of wealth, but to do that, you're going to need to go against the grain on one of the foundational assumptions that underpins D&D both mechanically and narratively.

TLDR: If you want your party to be motivated by gold past their first big pay off you should consider using a "wealth hurdle", which in short is a narrative and gameplay challenge that forces them to collect not only more gold than they already have but also more gold than they could get doing what they've been doing so far. This can be anything from a crimelord calling in a debt on them or one of their allies, a powerful monster swooping in and demanding tribute, comissioning some grand construction, or funding the defence of a region. Having the hurdle active should cause problems for the party, and not clearing the hurdle before a perdetermiend deadline will immensely bad things to happen. This will force the party to take risks they otherwise wouldn't, giving a high degree of focus to their subsequent adventures that they wouldn't have if they were content.

What we're trying to fix:

At it's core, D&D is a power fantasy, and a good chunk of its gameplay mechanics regardless of edition are about acquiring new strengths, options, and assets. These assumptions are likewise built into the genre and narrative structure of most campaigns: Heroes undertake quests usually for the promise of some reward, gain experiance/hit milestones along the way, and eventually stumble across some kind of loot drop at the end. There's nothing strictly wrong with this, but it does mean that all the resource problems the heroes face in the early game (and the inbuilt motivations that come along with them) are all but resolved by the time they hit the next gameplay tier.

This is complicated by the fact that outside of 3rd party options there's not much to spend money on. The DMG (which you should totally ignore) say you shouldn't let them buy magic items, and the common wisdom would say "let them buy a keep", but that solution only appeals a niche selection of adventuring parties.

Using Weath Hurdles turns acquiring gold not just into a quest goal but a gameplay challenge, forcing your party to scour the land for potential sources of wealth (and risk upsetting whoever or whatever happens to be currently holding it) and take on challenges they'd never normally attempt if there was only survival/personal enrichment at stake.

Food for Thought:

Tradional d&d structure has the party getting a huge payout at the end of their adventure in the form of a bosshoard or questgiver reward which is a very backloaded "you can have your dessert after you finish your greens" sort of attitude. Consider switching it up sometimes: have the party's patron or employer give them a small stipend to spend on kitting themselves out, have an early game treasure haul so the party can have a mid-arc shopping episode. This is especially useful in higher level games where your party may go weeks to months without a level up as it preserves the feeling of progression and gives them new toys to play with in between the big character defining abilities.

Recently I've been learning my way around blades in the dark (can't reccomend it enough btw), and just like any other time I've wanted to learn a new ttrpg system I'm having to do a bit of neural rewiring when it comes to figuring out how to write and run sessions of the game. Coin in BitD is both an XP (used for upgrading the party's shared crew sheet) a resource (burned to upgrade the results of various rolls) and a stat ( rolled to see if the players can lay their hands on various hard to come by items). It didn't really click for me until my first group messed up really badly on what was supposed to be their introductory adventure and pissed off the local crimeboss. I was just going to have him bully them, lock them up and then have a jailbreak the next session ( it's what I'd do in d&d), but on the fly I had the idea that he'd let them go with a massive debt they needed to pay off, which forced them to either pay him a percentage of their takings on all future jobs, or do small jobs in utmost secrecy so that they could build up their own strength under his nose.

Interestingly enough, the d&d game where I thought player wealth as a resource was most interestingly used was Dimension 20’s starstruck Odessy, which was a conversion of the amazing fanmade starwars5e system. Starstruck is a parody of hypercapitalism and aptly uses money as both a narrative and gameplay feature. One character is stuck paying weekly insurance premiums on a debt he would never be able to pay down forcing him to act recklessly to acquire wealth in the immediate future. Another character was a economic and political power player and some of the best moments in the series come from her high stakes wheeling and dealing and bouncing money between accounts while the rest of the group engages in epic space battles; the rest of the crew might’ve barely got their ship out of the dogfight, but she’s the one who ensures they can pay for the repairs once they get to the space dock. None of this would be possible without completely ignoring the normal constraints of wealth per level: gaining and losing huge sums based on moment by moment player decisions, The need for them to play along with the absurist gig economy to boost their rating and get better paying jobs, making a devil’s bargain with a corporate sponsor all so that they could risk their lives in a deadly arena fight all for the (very unlikely) chance of winning the equivalent of a million GP. Not every campaign should, or even could so focus on money in this way, but it was FASCINATING to watch it in action.

Artsource

#treasure #dnd #dungeon master tips #dm tips #dm advice #dm tip #adventure design

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tiredfox64 · 24 days

Note

So like,,,,,

Imagine if Bi-han and readsr went on a mission, oh yeah things r going very well, but then they stumble on a place that has like woah magic potion, the reader just "hey wld it b funny if I dr-" "no", but then Bi-han wasnt looking and somehow they end up with a reader thats just, the size of his palm

The rest is up to u!

Love ur writings!!!

Pipsqueak

Prior notes: This would be something that would happen to me cause I keep trying to eat inedible things. I've been told to stop trying to eat my DND dice.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings: Hehe you're so small

“Don’t touch anything.”

Bi-Han tells you that every time you go on a mission together. If he can’t have his brothers by his side then he usually picks you to come with him on a mission. Though you have a problem with being serious. You have a habit of making things comedic during serious moments like missions and briefings. You also have a weird habit of touching things that aren’t yours and putting them near your mouth. No one knows why you do it, neither do you. You must be lacking vitamins or something.

Whatever it is, it’s a hazard when you’re on missions. That’s why Bi-Han is always warning you about doing something stupid. It’s for your own good. You don’t know what could happen to you if you touched the wrong item or ingested something you shouldn’t have. The world you live in is a strange one, you never know.

So far, you’re acting right. Liu Kang sent you and Bi-Han out on a mission to investigate a possible rat in Earthrealm, aka a sorcerer. He warned you both to be careful which Bi-Han emphasized that point. He was right to do so.

When you both arrived at the suspected location there were walls filled with strange ingredients and hanging animal carcasses. Creepy. There were rows upon rows of colorful looking potions in wacky bottles. There was one potion in particular that caught your eye. It rested on a wooden desk with different ingredients surrounding it. It looked like whoever was brewing it was making more of a cocktail instead of a magical potion. Citrus peels, brown sugar, and finger lime caviar. It confused you so much that you didn’t take notice of the other potions that were being mixed into the strange concoction. You grabbed the potion that caught your eye, sniffing it and getting hit with that strong citrus smell. Its aroma was tempting you.

“Hey Bi-Han, wouldn’t it be funny if I dr-”

“No!” Bi-Han glared at you.

He motioned for you to put it back where you found it. You did as he said until he turned his back towards you. He started going off about how he wanted this mission to be over and he can’t risk any delays. You weren’t paying attention since your attention was on the potion. It just looked so pretty and smells as sweet as lemonade. It couldn’t hurt to take at least a lick of it. You placed your mouth near the bottle before leaning it up, the liquid flowed slowly to your tongue. You licked it up quickly. Hmm, it does taste like lemona-

Bi-Han heard a poof behind him. He swiftly turned around and saw a cloud of smoke that matched the color of the potion. Once the smoke cleared he tried his best to look for you. But when he looked down all he saw was you with the bottle trapping you inside. Ah geez, you’re small.

He stared in disbelief. It was clear what just happened. You didn’t obey your grandmaster.

“What did I tell you!” He yelled which sounded much louder to you since you were so tiny now.

You looked very guilty. Your head was lowered in shame. You looked up at Bi-Han with pleading eyes, begging him to get you out of the bottle. He has no choice, he has to. He picks up the bottle and begins to dump you out onto the palm of his hand.

You’re putting him in a difficult position right now. One wrong move and he could accidentally crush you. Or worse, even freeze you. You didn’t like this outcome. You look like you were on the verge of tears even though you were warned. He groaned as he contemplated what to do now. Should he abandon the mission and bring you back safely? Or should he march forward and try his best to keep you safe? He didn’t realize it but he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear you yelling at him.

“Please, have mercy!”

When he looked down he saw he was gripping you tightly. His thumb was rubbing the top of your head which messed with your hair. He opened his hands, allowing you to breathe. This situation was already sucking. This can’t go on; he has to bring you back. Maybe Lord Liu Kang can reverse this mess.

Bi-Han didn’t want to keep you in his hands just in case he needed to fight. The problem is he has nowhere else to put you. Each possible area he could put you in would possibly squeeze you. The only spot he could think of was…sigh. He raised you up before placing you at the top of his head.

“Just hold on tightly please.”

You listened this time. Too well actually. Your impulsive thoughts won and you ended up yanking a strand of his hair on the left side of his hair. You had your Ratatouille moment. He actually raised his arm just like the movie taught you! But he might have been doing it just to smack you for yanking.

“NOT THAT TIGHT!”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Getting a hold of Liu Kang was difficult. No one knew where he was or what he was doing. Not a good time for him to be MIA.

Believe it or not, Bi-Han was getting very worried about this situation. Having you as small as a rat made him worried about losing you. He was keeping you close to him at all times, not even allowing Tomas or Kuai Liang to poke you. In his eyes, you were as fragile as a glass animal now.

He kept you with him until someone could get a hold of Liu Kang. He kept you on his desk to keep a close eye on you. It felt like you were being treated like a child. Every time you moved close to the edge; Bi-Han would tense up before blocking you with his hands. He would drag you back by pinching the back of your uniform.

“Stay still. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He asked.

Then he tried keeping you in a birdcage he so conveniently had. You wouldn’t stop moving! You were put in little creature jail for little creature crimes. Yup, you still wouldn’t listen. You would try climbing the sides before trying to squeeze yourself through. You thought you succeeded until your hips hit the bars. Bi-Han was about to lose it on you but if he yelled he might burst your eardrums. He tried pushing you back in but every time he would poke your face you would bite him because it was uncomfortable. He did not want to try your backside. He eventually had to break the cage a little to allow you to crawl out.

That didn’t work out in his favor, what else he got?

He placed you right in front of him with his arms surrounding you. It allowed him to continue doing his paperwork while keeping you in one place. If you tried to run past his hands he would smack you back. Try climbing up his arms and he would twitch his muscles to make you fall. Like a horse trying to get a fly off. Front is no good, sides are no good, you went with the back. You started climbing up his clothes. This was the last straw for Bi-Han. You were like a devious rat that couldn’t listen to its master.

He snatched you up before shoving you into his top. The multiple layers of his uniform were usually tight against his body but there was enough space to shove you into it. Your back was pressed up against his chest area which felt like a brick wall. You tried to scramble out of there but the clothes were pressing you tight like a weighted blanket. You were tucked in nicely against your will. You struggled and struggled until you tired yourself out. You don’t have much fight left in you which was fine by Bi-Han. It was a long day already and that little fight you put up drained you out. You started to succumb to the comfort that enveloped you. It was no use, you were falling asleep.

After a while, Bi-Han noticed you weren’t saying a peep. When he looked down he saw you were knocked out. It was night and still no Liu Kang. Hopefully he will have better luck tomorrow. He should find a better place for you to sleep where you will be safe. He took you out and placed you on your stomach in the palm of his hand. He petted your back with one finger to prevent you from waking up. He kind of likes you this way. So punny and pathetic, it’s so adorable. You would have no choice but to depend on him for everything. Ah, he shouldn’t be thinking that way. He should focus on you getting back to normal. Still can’t help that he finds this situation a bit entertaining. Maybe he’ll drag this out a little longer just to see what else he could do with you.

After notes: All I could think of was Marc Anthony and Pussyfoot when writing this. That was the energy I was getting. I just saw a drawing that was like this idea which included Bi-Han. Strange. Adiós!

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nicksolemnlyswears · 11 months

Text

HAN LUE HEADCANONS

TOKYO DRIFT

pairing: han lue x waitress! reader

word count: 6.3k words

warnings: some smut

notes: after simping for this man for years i’ve finally caved and wrote some headcannons for him.

PT. 2 PT.3

-meeting him...the first time you ever saw han was at work, an american themed diner where you were a waitress. at the time you didn't think much of him, he was just another customer who came in and out. that was until he became a regular.

-once a week became three times a week. next thing you know he was there every night ordering a cup of coffee along with a plain old burger and fries. no pickles.

-han became a familiar face, something to look forward to on your late night shifts. you knew to expect him to come around at 2 or 3 am, never earlier.

-han always scoped the small diner to see which part you were working at and sat there. his excuse was that you already learned his order. "it makes everything so much easier, don’t you agree?" he'd say with a smirk on his handsome face.

-you accepted it. it’s a harmless gesture and you'd rather serve him than the drunk american tourists that swung by the diner. that’s the thing with han, he chose you to serve him but he never acted weird towards you, no inappropriate comments or handsy actions. he made you feel comfortable in his presence, calm even.

-whenever you see him walking by the front of the diner you'd prepare him a fresh pot of coffee. as soon as he sat down on his chosen booth you'd place the steaming cup right in front of him.

-you've made it your mission to tell han how bad consuming one pot of coffee in such a short amount of time is. especially at 3 am but he always shrugs it off, taking a sip of his coffee and locking his eyes with yours, challenging your statement. you’d roll your eyes and mutter a ‘whatever,’ rushing to serve another customer.

-best believe han would watch you walk away to admire your ass, your tacky diner uniform framing it perfectly.

-han tended to order one of two things. either a bacon burger with fries. no pickles. or pancakes drenched in syrup with lots of bacon on the side. with time you get so comfortable with him that when you serve him his food you steal a fry or strip of bacon. its your service fee for being his chosen waitress.

-han is the only one that leaves a tip when he leaves the diner. in tokyo nobody tips, but he insists for the sake of the whole american diner experience. in reality, you're his favorite and he likes you so he doesn't mind dropping a few extra bucks.

-you use that tip money strictly for your manicure. every week a new color covers your nails without fault. han being so observant notices this and looks forward to every thursday to see what color you've chosen. he doesn't make his observation known but he can't help but compliment them when you get your nails done in the same exact orange as his car. pure coincidence because you've never seen his car.

-it takes months of seeing his face for him to make a move of any sort because at first he had no intention of pursuing anything. he went to the diner cause it reminds of home, california. seeing your pretty face was an extra.

-when han gets wrapped up in takashis business and skips a few days he finds himself missing you, wondering what you were up to. if it was a busy night at the diner, were there any rowdy tourists you had to straighten out, and most importantly, what color did you change your nails to?

-one slow night its just the two of you. the cooks are on the back, the other waitress is taking her break. its 4:30 am most drunks are home and the early birds are on their way to the diner

-for once han is sitting on the bar, you across from him, drying mugs and cups. it's now or never. taking one last drink from his coffee han says “you know i have a theory about you.”

“and what’s that?” you ask him, looking up at him through your lashes. your hands busy drying a mug that's already dry.

“you’re a vampire,” he says simply. no smile or sarcastic remark.

laugh bubbles out of you, “han, what the hell?”

only when you laugh does he allow himself to smile. “it’s the only explanation as to why i only see you at nighttime. you’re gone before sunrise too,” he says nonchalantly.

“where is this coming from?” you ask raising an eyebrow, a grin still plastered across your face. the damp towel thrown across your shoulder. you lean forward casually on the counter, coming face to face with the mysterious han.

“just that i’d like to see you during the day time to prove my theory.”

you stare at him, eyes slightly narrowed and he meets straight on. there's no fear in his eyes but there is a hint of expectancy. despite looking at you his hand twirls the remnants of cold coffee in his cup, emanating coolness and nonchalance.

“is this your way of finally asking me out?”

"is it working?" han asks, eyes briefly looking away, before landing on yours again.

"it is," you smile, grabbing a napkin and a pen from your apron to scribble down your number. "text me."

-the date takes place a few days later. han offers to pick you up from your apartment. when you walk out your building han falls harder for you. he always believed you were beautiful even when you barely tried when working at the diner but seeing you out of your uniform all dolled up for him with makeup and hair done. you were more than beautiful, you were stunning.

-you approach him as he leans on his car, trying to act cool. it doesn't make a difference, you already think he's the coolest ever. this is the first time you see his car and it's expensive. you don't know shit about cars but you do have expensive taste and the orange car was ringing alarms in your head.

-one thing is for sure...you have lots to learn about han lue. if all goes well he will not hesitate to tell you all about himself.

-“there you have it i'm not a vampire,” you say as you near him. he chuckles and opens up the door for you. "although i can't promise i don't bite."

“good to know,” he responds in his usual calm tone. your comment does nothing to deter him instead it eggs him on.

-han goes all out for the date. he impresses you with his driving skills, he pays for EVERYTHING, and acts like an outright gentleman. there isn't a red flag on sight. you're not one to put out on the first date but he's treated you so well you heavily consider it.

-something you had never experienced in the past is finding driving sexy. han dominates the car as if its an extension of himself. throughout the entirety of the car ride he's speeding 100 miles and you barely feel it. he swerves between cars to get past them without a beat of hesitation.

-you can look at the streets of tokyo another time. right now your focus is on him. how he grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other on the gear stick. he glances your way and smiles. he knows exactly what he's doing.

-by the end of the date you are more than turned on. the tension between the two of you is intoxicating. you tell yourself you just want to get rid of your dry spell but it’s all a lie. han turns you on in every way possible.

-at the end of the night you shyly invite him into your apartment, hoping he'll say yes and he does. you entertain yourselves with fake pleasantries, asking him if he wants anything, handing him a beer, making small talk.

-the space on your small couch turns smaller and smaller as you both inch towards each other. with one shy glance towards his lips, he takes it as an invitation and smashes his lips against yours. it’s game over. clothes are thrown around, beer is left to warm on the coffee table, and clumsily you make it to your bedroom

-although the moment starts rushed, he slows it down. enjoying your body and everything you had to offer. it's so good you're glad you broke your 'no sex on the first date' rule. because han takes you to highs you haven't experienced in a long, long time

-it’s laying in bed that night that han pops the question, "do you want to be my girlfriend?" he could've waited a few more dates down the road but you two had already skipped a few steps and you've known each other for so long as well. he couldn't wait any longer.

-dating han is unlike anything you expected. first of all you didn't expect him to have so much damn money. it's his treat everytime you go out no matter how much you argue, he already has his card out and manages to pay without you even noticing.

-if you manage to sneak around him and pay, he finds a way to make up for it by buying you stuff you don't need. teddy bears, flowers, jewelry, shoes, clothes, lingerie. okay that last one you really like because it's worth his reaction. he might've picked it thinking it would look good on you but the real thing is so much better.

-now that you're dating, han has even more reason to go see you at the diner. he has his late dinner and gets to chat with you in between serving customers. although your uniform is the definition of an american stereotype he adores it, especially when you pair it with a pair of beat up, high-top red converse that are reserved strictly for work.

-he takes you to the back of the diner to fuck you on your break, it's a given. since he loves your uniform and you are on borrowed time han only lifts the skirt up your hips to have his way with you in it. you brace yourself with your hands on the hard wall, panties pulled to the side, hans hard cock pushing into you from behind. his hands dig onto your hip as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. the rest of your shift you spend it with sticky panties, a reminder of your activity with han.

-everyone and i repeat everyone knows what you're up. how can they not? you leave looking somewhat put together and comeback with a wrinkled uniform and messed up hair.

-han is such a good boyfriend that he picks up you after your shifts at the diner. either way most of the things he does in his life are at nighttime, waiting for you to finish work at 5 am is nothing. if he so happens to have business he leaves and comes back to pick you up without question. that way he can fall asleep with you in his arms.

-eventually you start wondering where han gets his money, he's never told you he has a job. when you ask him he responds that it's from a job he had in brazil. you don't question it because you refuse to get too in your head about it and ruin something great.

-inevitably you learn about the drifting underground in tokyo and hans participation in it. you're also not interested in that so whenever han invites you to the races, you politely decline. again, cars are not your forte. you'll get bored and wish to go early and you don't want to ruin anything for him.

-it all changes when han brings along an american kid named sean. when the kid finds out you’re his girlfriend the first thing that pops out of his mouth is, “no wonder you never go home with the chicks falling on your lap in the races.”

-your demeanor changes so quick, your smile gone, eyebrow arched, tongue in cheek, glaring intently at han while he avoids your deadly stare. it never crossed your mind that there would be groupies lusting over your man. you're many things and jealous is one of them.

-han begs silently for sean to shut the hell up. bringing him here was a mistake, next time the boy's homesick he’s on his own. until now you've never had a problem with han, if anything there have been stupid fights about him always paying for everything.

-the rest of the time they’re in the diner you act very passive aggressively, smiling at sean but glaring at han. almost slamming his plate on the table, barely any fries on there, while seans has double the amount. for once han has to flag you down to get more coffee to which you pour him a cold cup.

-after dropping off sean at his house he returns to pick you up, finding you walking to the train station when you know he’s gonna pick you up like always does.

“Need a ride?” he asks, sliding the cars window down.

you continue walking, arms hugged to your chest to shield off the cold. the crease on your forehead an indication you are still angry at him. “no.”

“come on, baby. why are you mad?” han parks the car and follows you, grabbing your arm to force you to stop walking.

“because,” you scoff, refusing to meet his eyes.

han holds your shoulder and with two fingers lifts your chin up to look into your eyes, “because?”

“you didn’t tell me that there are girls throwing themselves at you!” you exclaim with a pout, ripping your chin away from his grasp.

“you heard sean. i don’t pay attention to them. i didn’t think it mattered!"

“it does to me!” you yell, punching his chest lightly. “i hate to think that while i’m at home or working you’re out there wooing these girls making them think you’re single and shit.”

“the only girl i’m wooing is you,” han reassures you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug.

“but they don’t know that,” you say but it comes out muffled as you hug him back and burry your face on his chest. he always smells so nice.

“then come with me to the next race,” he says, rocking you both from side to side.

“fine,” you pout, tilting your head up asking for a kiss. han gladly gives you what you want, slotting his lips between yours and going as far as slipping his tongue in when you part your sweet lips for him. yeah you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk but who cares.

“can i take you home now?”

“please, my feet hurt.”

-as promised han takes you to the next race, to say everyone was in shock to see han arriving with a new pretty girl is an understatement. the girls you call groupies all glared at you from the moment you stepped out, because no matter how hard they tried, you had hans full attention.

-han has always been the mysterious guy in the underground who appeared out of nowhere and became partner with takashi. no one truly knew where he came from. he was seen with tons of girls at the races and was known to have slept with a few of them but none got as far as to be exclusive with him. the girl who achieved this has the underground intrigued.

-you’re intimidated by the whole situation, the girls glaring, the loud roaring of engines, the fast cars whizzing by you. the only comfort is hans arm wrapped around your waist.

-that uncomfortable feeling vanished when a random girl approached han. she fully ignored his arm wrapped around your shoulder and approached him hands all over his chest and free arm. your inner bitch came out. you said things you cannot repeat and sent her the nastiest look. she had no other choice but to run away with her tail between her legs. han enjoyed every moment of it, kissing you in front of everybody to see. your his girl and most importantly he's your boy.

-you didn't return after that day. you had asserted your dominance once and that was enough. to remind people he was still taken you would just leave hickeys all over his neck. that would do it.

-han still leaves you tips, it’s his way to give you your nail money without you refusing profusely. he’d pull you by your apron kiss you, and stick the money down your apron's pocket with two fingers. he wants to keep you pampered and happy. you're repping him now.

-further down your relationship han learns you’re a college dropout. your family forced you into a degree you hated and was not good at and when you tried to switch they cut you off. now you’re a waitress with no money for school. han assures you that you can be so much more than a waitress even without a degree. it’s a matter of my finding your thing. he would know.

-your passion is cooking. your family is wealthy and when you were young they'd take you to the greatest restaurants in japan and asia. your tastebuds have been trained your whole life.

-when han learns of this he asks you to cook for him and offered to be your sous chef. if this was your passion he wanted you to share it with him.

"what do you think?" you ask him, offering him a taste of the sauce you were making.

"it almost tastes as god as you," he replies, kissing your cheek when you blush. he'd been assigned to peel potatoes. that's as far as his ability went either way. he was more than happy to see you waltz around your kitchen chopping vegetables and sprinkling herbs into the pans.

"han, i'm serious," you whine, taking a taste of your creation yourself.

"so am i," he laughs softly, "it tastes really good."

-you want to impress han with your cooking skills. for some reason you feel the need to prove that you're good at something. you prepare your small table with a white tablecloth and skinny candles. you even decorate the dishes with extra herbs and sauces.

-han has been with you the whole time, refilling both of your wine glasses but when you place the plate in front of him, he's at a loss for words. you turned the chaos in the kitchen into this beautiful dish.

-you're cooking is incredible. his palate is not as developed as yours but he can see you owning a restaurant and earning a michelin star for your cooking. there's no hiding how much he enjoyed the mix of flavors you put together. you're a smiley mess for the rest of the night. seeing han enjoy your creation brings you lots of joy.

-from that day on han and you make it a habit to cook dinner once a week at the least. he takes it as an opportunity to learn as well. the more you cook together the more responsibility you let him have. one day you deem him ready to use the fancy knife chef you spent months saving for.

-something else he learned about you is that you are a freak for skin care. you do it in the morning, at night, and if you need some sort of boost during the day you’ll do it again. many times you’ve fallen asleep in his arms only to wake up in the middle of the night to do your routine. han does not understand it but let’s you be.

-because of this he spends a lot of time watching you apply toners and lotions to your face. face masks are a must in your house and to not make han feel excluded you apply one on him too, including the fuzzy headband so his hair doesn’t get in the way. you sit on his lap afterwards and massage it onto his face. he secretly adores it. especially when you peck his lips to signal your done. now at his place he keeps a stash of face masks. japanese, korean, chinese, american, all sorts of face masks.

-hans habit of snacking on chips and crackers doesn’t go past you. when you ask him he replies truthfully he was a heavy smoker and this is his way of coping and getting the edge off.

-you're relieved by his words. you used to suffer from asthma growing up and your mom did nothing to help as she herself was a 2 pack a day kind of woman.

-now your house is stocked with snacks. you have a stash just for han and whenever he’s in your apartment or you guys are going out he takes his pick and stuff them in your small purse. it's led you to have accumulated points in your rewards card from the convenience store. a win win.

-han is the first to say i love you. he had offered to do your skincare routine for you wanting to challenge himself. he believed he had it down to a tee. fully trusting him you closed your eyes and let him do his thing. he pulled through and only made one mistake throughout the whole thing. nothing catastrophic. when he’s done he kisses your pouty lips layered with some sort of berry lip masque and whispers it “i love you.”

you open your eyes and look at him with a smile. it was only a matter of time till either of you confessed. both of your feelings bubbling under the surface. "i love you too.”

-if there is one thing that shook han to the core was learning that you didn’t know how to drive…at all. you're lucky he loves you or it would've been the end of the relationship.

“here. you can drive today,” han says, throwing you his keys as you leave the diner.

you catch them and throw them back, “no, that’s okay. you can drive.” there's more than one reason as to why you don't give a shit about cars and that's that you never learned to drive.

“please baby. i barely slept last night,” han pleads, kissing your cheek and placing the silly tokyo keychain in your palm.

“i don’t want to ruin your car,” you lie through your teeth, shooting him a sickly sweet smile.

“nothing will happen to it,” han insists.

defeated you sigh and reveal one of your most embarrassing secrets you've kept from han, “you don’t understand…i don't know how to drive.”

han goes slack, staring at you in disbelief but nothing about you said you were lying. it would explain why you've never asked to drive or why you always take the train or bus.

he can't live knowing his girlfriend can't drive. his life depends on his ability to drive and out of all the girls in tokyo he picked one that never found it important to learn.

nodding he takes the keys away from you and opens the passenger door for you to get in. “as soon as i get some sleep i’m teaching you to drive.”

-first thing the next day han has you behind the wheel in an empty parking lot. you’re sweating buckets, nervous. You’re not even in hans expensive car, he brought out a beat up car for you to practice on.

-"driving is as easy as riding a bike," those are hans words as he starts his driving lesson. he doesn't need to know you don't know how to ride a bike either.

"the pedal on the right is gas the one on the left is the brake. you need to press the gas lightly…baby you need to change the shift to drive first,” han says when you press on the gas and the engine revs.

“i can’t do this han. we're going to crash and we'll get hurt or worse...die," you ramble on, trying to unbuckle the seatbelt.

han rolls his eyes and grabs your hands to place them back on the steering wheel, “yes, you can. it’s important for emergencies.”

with a shaky hand you change the gear to drive and step on the gas lurching the car forward. instantly regretting it you slam on the brakes, jostling the both of you violently.

han breathes out loudly, his hands pressed against the dash to steady himself, “slowly, gently.”

out of all the crazy, stupid shit he’s done in the past this is the most scared he's felt about losing his life. you're not a quick learner by any means. just after a short hour he decides it's been enough. you barely managed to get the car running without going 40 miles instantly. don't get him started on how you brake. you don't seem to understand the meaning of gentle.

-han is as much of a taker as he is a giver. he can be the most doting boyfriend ever and suddenly have you on your knees using your mouth as he sees fit, leaving you a mess of saliva and cum.

-you seriously don't mind. that man gives you so much not only material things but love and orgasms. you're more than happy to get bruised knees if it means he's enjoying himself.

-nobody would expect it from him but he's very adventurous in bed, han is always up to trying new things he's read on the internet or hear people talking about. most times it's a success and you incorporate it into your sex lives.

-one thing he had to convince you to do was to give him blowjobs while he drove at ridiculous speeds. you agreed to try it once and it went so well it's become a not uncommon occurrence. most times it’s when you're driving aimlessly with nowhere to go.

-he'd start at a normal speed, let's say 60 miles an hour. you'd lean over the center console and unzip his pants. han would already be sporting a semi knowing what's coming. you'd pump his cock on your hand, letting your spit dribble down as lubrication.

-once he's fully hard you'd lick him base to tip. he'd be going up 90 by then. he can only afford quick glances down to where you're squeezing his cock. when you take him into your mouth he steps harder on the pedal, 100 on the dash.

-the deeper you go the faster the car goes. han leans his head back on the seat to try and control himself. a hand leaving the steering wheel to press against your head.

-the speed of the car and the pleasure of your mouth bring han to highs he's never explored before. when he slows to an acceptable speed you lift yourself to settle back on your seat, buckling your seatbelt. the taste of cum on your tongue.

-han's the type of boyfriend who isn’t so much into hand holding in public. he’s more of a hand around the waist or arm around shoulders guy.

-when you’re fucking though? oh, he’d lace his hands through yours. he's thrusting into you? both or one of his hands is intertwined with yours. he's eating you out? one hand extended to grab one of your boobs and the other in yours. maybe that's why he can't do it in public...it reminds him of more intimate moments.

-when you go awol your friends know there must be a new man on your life and they beg to meet him. they're all pleasantly surprised at the looks of him, especially when the two of you arrive in an expensive sports car and he offers to pay for everyones lunch.

-they are happy for you. it's been a long time since you've dated anyone, your last break up leaving you terribly heart broken. they can all see han loves you and that you love him. it's clear in their eyes this is not about money or lust.

-sean lets it slip that han has a girlfriend and twinkie begs to see who she is. sean agrees to take him to the diner where they sit at one of the booths being served by the other waitress. he points you out as you take someone else's order. twinkie and sean naively believe you haven't spotted them.

-twinkie doesn't fully believe sean just yet. he's having a hard time processing that han has a secret girlfriend, then again when was the last time he saw han hook up with a girl? a long time.

-like most nights you work, han makes an appearance. you have his cup of coffee on the counter and greet him with a peck on the lips as you stretch over it to meet him in the middle.

"your friends are over there," you whisper, softly signaling with your head in their direction.

han looks over at them. sean and twinkie pretend they are engaging in a very interesting conversation and they weren’t staring at han and you. "i'm sorry. have they caused you any trouble?"

"nah, they think i haven't noticed them gawking," you laugh, still leaning over the counter. "should we give them a show?"

"later," han says, tucking a rogue stand of hair behind your ear.

you lean into his touch, a graceful smile blooming from your lips, "as soon as mina gets here we can go." you softly tell him, eager to get out of the diner and go home where you can cuddle with han. there's barely a night you spend apart.

-han easily strikes a conversation with you to pass the time. he tells you about his friends all over the world and the places he's been. in your eyes han is the most interesting man in the world so you hang onto every word he says.

-when the other waitress relieves you of your shift you grab your jacket and meet han by the door. twinkie and sean are still in their little booth, sneaking glances at the two of you. han finally acknowledges them by nodding in their direction and grabbing you by the back of your neck, kissing you deeply. you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his sides. he pulls apart with his teeth biting your lower lip, hands trailing down to your ass to give it a squeeze. making sure your skirt is on place with a little tug, he opens the door for you. as you walk out he sends the boys a little shrug and a smirk, following you outside.

-sean and twinkie sit in their booth, mouth agape at the spectacle han put on. in their head you're way out of his league. you're too hot. their waitress glares at them as she slams the check on their table. they've been there too long.

-the next day at han's garage twinkie tells everyone. “yo han why didn’t you tell us about your girl?”

han doesn't look up from his magazine as he responds, “i didn’t realize i answered to you."

earl and reiko look up from the car they are working on to stare at han. they didn't realize han had a girlfriend, he's always been a...free spirit. not one to settle for just one girl. then again they've only known about his life in tokyo not brasil, or the dominican republic, or california.

“out of courtesy, man! what if i had hit on her?” twinkie says jokingly. not going to lie had he seen you around he probably would've tried to get with you.

“i doubt you would’ve gotten far,” han mutters, taking a swig of his beer bottle. he likes keeping his private life, private. he likes having you all to himself. that way no one can use you against him if something were to happen.

“bring her around, han!” reiko tells han. "i'd love to have another girl around."

“eh, maybe one of these days,” han dismisses them, standing up and heading out to look for sean. they've got business to tend to.

-han is both an ass guy and a boob guy. it all depends on the situation. in public he’s more of an ass guy. he loves watching you walk away, the sway of your hips capturing his attention.

-when he kisses you on public he’ll trail a hand down your body to squeeze your ass lovingly. he's the type to walk with a hand in your back pocket. letting everyone know you're his.

-in private though he’s a massive boob guy. han likes laying in your chest, finding your boobs comfortable. if you're cuddling he'll bring a hand under your shirt (which is probably his anyway) and just caress your tits. he’ll play with your nipple, brushing it with his thumb. it’s not very sexual but it can turn sexual if you wanted.

-han would definitely bring up the idea of you getting nipple piercings. he finds them so hot and he knows they’d look great on you. is the pain worth it? probably. he promised he’d be there with you to hold your hand, he even offered to pay for them. it’s still an idea you’re heavily debating.

-the day you meet hans friends comes too quickly to his liking. you had left your phone in his car by accident and you were going out with your friends. before heading to a new club downtown you stopped by his garage. everyone stopped what they were doing to see who was in the SUV. out the passengers sear came out a high heeled foot and a long leg first quickly followed by the other.

-you walked out looking like a three course meal. hair and makeup done and hair flowing down your back like silk. a short black dress hugged your body, a slit on the side that came up high but not high enough to reveal anything important.

-you slam the car door behind you, entering the garage filled with cars and strangers. you're nervous yet your beautiful looks hid it well. spotting a familiar face you strut towards him. "sean...have you seen han?"

"up-upstairs," sean manages to choke out. pointing to the second level of the garage.

"thanks," you smile at him. you walk past twinkie, winking at him for shits and giggles.

the rest see you walk up the stairs gracefully, surprised that nothing could be seen despite the dress being so short. han's sits in a desk, handling money from his and takashis business.

"hey handsome," you purr, nearing him.

han hadn't heard you come in so when he looks up and sees you looking like that he does a double take. he pushes off the desk, the rolling chair making enough space for you to sit on his lap.

"you look beautiful," he says, caressing your exposed thigh with his fingers. "what're you doing here?"

"i forgot my phone in your car and i'm going out with mindy and the girls," you tell him, grabbing his face on your hands to kiss his lips. it slow and contained as you're careful not to ruin your lipstick.

"you sure you have to go?" han whispers, his palm grabbing a handful of your ass.

"i do, the girls are not happy i've missed several girls night," you tell him. running a hand through his hair.

he looks up at you and says, "alright." han carefully stands up, placing you back on your high heeled feet. he makes his way down the stairs to where his car is parked.

you follow after him until a girl intercepts you, "hi! i'm reiko one of han's friends, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

"nice to meet you too," you say reciprocating her enthusiastic smile.

"here you go," han pops up besides you once again, handing you your phone.

"thanks," you smile at him.

"i should get going before mindy starts honking her horn," you scrunch up your nose.

"you should come around again soon," reiko says, excited that there's finally another girl in the garage that isn't one of the models twinkie and han are used to bring around.

"sure!" you agree with the girl, finding her nice and genuine.

"let me walk you out." han grabs your waist as you walk back towards your friends car. he opens up the door for you as you slip in.

before driving away you lower the window and he leans against the the car, popping his head in. "you girls be safe, call me if you're too drunk to drive."

mindy rolls her eyes at han, "don't worry lover boy. we'll have her back in her apartment before sunrise."

your friend allows you to give han one last peck before she starts closing the window and driving away, "bye!"

-that night han waits for you in your apartment. he hears you before he sees you. the door slamming open startles him and in you stumble with a tipsy mindy holding you up. "i brought her back safe and sound. she's your problem now."

"baby!" you yell, letting go of mindy and falling into his embrace. you kiss him all over his face and hug him close.

"you had a good time?" he asks, looking down at you. your eye makeup is smudged and your lipstick is long gone. you can barely keep your eyes open as you stumble over your words.

"lets go get you ready for bed."

-i repeat, han is a great boyfriend. he takes you to the bathroom and sits you on the counter. he follows your skin care routine, taking off the layer of makeup left on your face. you giggle through it all even as he helps you brush your teeth and apply you lip balm.

-he guides you back to the bedroom, taking off your dress so you sleep comfortably. he takes off your bra as well, the metal decorating your nipples glinting under the artificial light. grabbing one of his tshirts you've adopted he slides it over your head and arms.

-han tucks you into bed and he promptly follows to pull you close to his chest. you've stopped giggling by now, snuggling up to him. "i love you," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist.

-"i love you more, baby."

part 2. part 3.

i’ll also accept requests for han if anyone is interested!

#han lue #han seoul oh #fanfiction #headcanon #tokyo drift #fast and furious #han lue imagines #han lue imagine #han lue headcannons #fast and furious fanfiction #han lue x reader #han lue fanfiction #han lue fanfic #han lue headcanons

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peachhcs · 5 months

Text

the draft & the night everything changed

hughes!sister x will smith au

the night samy and will finally realize they both have feelings for one another at the nhl draft in nashville.

1.7k words

for the first real fic i’m starting with the draft which basically started samy & will’s relationship! the confessions will be its own separate post & again i’m open to asks and things you guys wanna see in this au! :)

au masterlist | part 2

with all the press and interviews, samy hardly got to see will or any of the boys before the draft. she sat with her family in their hotel room as all of them got ready for the very special and exciting night. will would periodically text her updates about everything he was doing making the brunette smile each time her phone buzzed on the table.

she smiled seeing a picture will sent dressed in his suit almost ready to head out into the seats. she loved the navy and pink combination—also loving that he took her suggestions when he sent her choices a few months back. samy quickly snapped a photo back of her own dress she was wearing. it was a simple pink and black with a small opening across her midsection. she wasn't sure if it was too little for what seemed like such a classy event, but grace quickly reassured her that she looked perfect.

her entire family experienced the draft three times already, so they knew what was coming and what to expect, but samy couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach for her best friend about to get picked in the first round tonight. will was one of the best players in this draft class and even though she's hardly seen him since they got to nashville, she knew he was feeling all of the emotions.

her phone buzzed again meaning will texted her back.

will

wow you look gorgeous

his text immediately caused a blush across samy's cheeks. her head spun around making sure none of her family saw her red face before quickly sending a text back.

samy

i'll see you out there :)

the nauseating feeling in samy's stomach had been there for days. anytime she thought about will, her heart raced. she started getting excited anytime her phone buzzed hoping it was her best friend texting her back. it was..it was a weird feeling. she's never felt that way whenever will texted. at least not since the beginning of april. she didn't know what it meant nor did she really want to know because maybe deep down, she did know.

after another ten minutes, samy followed her family into the arena. there was so many people pushing past them trying to find their seats or quickly interview the draft prospects before they got seated. mrs. hughes led the way in attempt to find anyone they were sitting with. samy's stomach was doing flips with the amount of people shoving and pushing past her. she knew the draft always went crazy, but she forgot just how crazy it really was. luke's draft in the comfort of their own home two years ago was much better than the chaos inside the arena.

"samy!" someone called her name. the girl quickly spun around trying to find the source when she saw gabe's tall figure waving his hands at her. she tugged on her parents' arms and motioned towards him.

he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the family. samy was immediately brought into a hug once she was close enough.

"hey, god, this is insane." gabe laughed a little as the rest of his family came up behind him.

"i know, how are you feeling?" samy wondered and admired his fun suit.

"nervous..really nervous." the dark-haired boy admitted.

the brunette’s face softened out as she brushed down his suit jacket. “whatever happens in there is meant to happen. it's gonna be good,” samy reassured.

"have you seen will or ryan yet?" gabe changed the subject.

"i haven't seen either of them since we got here two days ago." samy said with a small frown.

"will should be coming in soon. he was a few people behind me i think." just as gabe said that, samy spotted the familiar mop of blonde hair and will's infamous navy suit scanning the crowd of people.

"i see him." samy said and gabe whipped around to find his best friend.

the girl's feet moved faster than her mind as she pushed her way through everyone to get to will. he finally spotted her and also picked up his speed to meet her in the middle.

will's hands clasped around her back, pulling her into him. the two squeezed one another tightly, taking in the moment and the feeling of finally being together after not getting to see one another yet.

"i'm so glad you're here." will muttered into her shoulder. the girl grinned, rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

the two pulled apart, missing the knowing looks from their families watching them. samy went to hug grace while will hugged gabe.

"it's good to see you again." grace laughed as she exchanged her hug with samy.

"you too, gracie.” the brunette chuckled.

"i hate to break up the reunions, but let's get our seats." mrs. smith said, always rushing people to where they needed to be like always.

everyone nodded and will found his way back to samy's side. the girl wrapped her arm around his. “how are you feeling?" she asked.

"nervous for sure." the blonde laughed. samy smiled, rubbing his arm in hopes of soothing his nerves.

everything about will looked good. his hair was styled perfectly and his suit was pressed making him look clean and classy for the night. the feeling returned in samy's stomach as she gripped his arm through the arena.

the smiths and hughes broke away from gabe's family as they took their seats on opposite ends of the stairs. whatever order mrs. smith had for everyone's seating arrangements was thrown out the window when will insisted samy sat next to him. once again, the two missed the knowing glances from family as mrs. smith gave in and let samy sit next to will.

the absent touches, the closeness, the comments—it wasn't usual to samy and will. they had always been like that, but right now samy was seeing it in a different way. will's fingers brushing across her hand left sparks in its wake. her heart raced anytime he looked at her for longer than he usually did. she just kept telling herself it was all normal. they were usually touchy and close with one another, except this time around samy couldn't get out of her head that something was different. something felt different and she didn't know if will felt it too.

the adrenaline started rising in the room as they got ready to announce the first overall pick. will's hand clasped around samy's with a firm grasp. his face was set and focused, but samy knew he had a 100 different thoughts running through his mind.

connor bedard went 1st pick overall which was pretty expected. he was a very watched player this past year and everyone knew he was probably going first.

as the second and third picks were announced, will knew he was most likely going next. it was all based on the 2nd round pick and everyone held their breaths in anticipation.

“the fourth pick overall for the san jose sharks is pleased to announce will smith." the announcer said.

everyone immediately jumped up as a smile appeared on will's lips. he quickly brought samy into his arms before hugging his parents and sisters. his mom took ahold of his suit jacket as he took it off and made his way down to the stage. gracegrabbed samy's hand, a smile on both of their faces as they watched will put on his new jersey. blue was definitely his color and samy couldn't be prouder of her best friend.

ryan and gabe weren't far after will. samy exchanged hugs with both of the boys as she watched them make their way down to the stage like her brothers did so many years ago.

everyone knew the boys had a bunch of press to do, so they wouldn't ben seeing them until after. samy tried easing her racing mind by talking more with grace and ryan's girlfriend for the time being until she couldn't take her racing thoughts anymore and needed to use the bathroom.

the girl stared at herself in the mirror trying to make sense of why she couldn't stop thinking about will and why her heart clenched every time she saw him. she didn't get it. he was her best friend. she's seen him as a brother for as long as she could remember. why was she suddenly seeing him so differently? why did he make her heart race and her palms sweaty?

samy gained the courage to go back out with everyone. she made her way through the arena when someone called her name. the girl spun around, recognizing the voice from a mile away. will was racing towards her still in his new jersey.

she threw herself into his arms as they hugged one another tightly.

"so proud of you willie." samy said into his shoulder.

"god, this feels so surreal. i don't think i've even processed it yet." will laughed a little as he pulled back some but kept his hands on her waist.

"what did i say? i knew the sharks would take you." the girl laughed as she thought about her predictions for all the boys she made months ago. will smiled, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

"thank you for being here. it..it really means a lot." will said softly. samy smiled and that time as will stared at the girl in front of him, it all fell into place.

the two felt the pull. they felt the racing hearts and the touches. will's gaze never left samy's as her heart beat a bruise into her chest seeing him look at her like that. will's heart was doing the same as samy stared back at him, uncertainty crossing into her features as they stayed like that until someone else's voice broke them apart.

"will!!" it was grace racing towards them with their families hot on her tail. samy and will quickly broke apart just as his older sister reached him and brought him into another loving hug.

samy stepped back, smiling at the sibling’s exchange all while will never took his eyes off of her.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #samy hughes #samy x will #will smith x oc #will smith imagine #will smith hockey #boston college hockey #boston college #umich imagine #umich hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard

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yahoodarling · 4 months

Text

Yandere Thoma/Ayato X IsekaiedGN Reader

Warnings: Posted in comments to avoid spoilers, please read them if you wish to avoid potential triggers.

Word Count: 20k (Full Fic)

Chapter option: Part 1 ( 3 Chapters, +-6k ea)

It's disgusting, it is discomfort incarnate to have such foresight into the fate of the world and yet be bound to its own laws of destiny, especially when what you were sure was to take place is altered. You no longer have any ground of understanding except the uncanny feeling that things are not as they should be, to be so similar and yet be so changed. You knew things will end up alright, as long as you do not interfere then Inazumas political warfare will reach a peaceful end and it did. You watched, noted those ‘special’ to the world, those who have a story, a life, a reason and you took the responsibility of not getting involved and it worked. You became an npc, avoided any confrontation with those deemed ‘special’, avoided any influence in the ‘plot’, watched as a hero came, a nation saved and a people newly united. It worked. Your foresight was correct yet… things changed. With no base to rely on, how were you to know what the ‘future’ must be, how were you to know what to avoid, who to avoid and what minor choice may change a future? The hero has left, gone to Sumeru you guess, no, you know, you know the hero leaves for a new nation but so has your foresight and with that comes the change. The one day gathering supplies, one day speaking to a fellow npc to fill some sort of social need, one day being in the ‘dark’ and you've caused a spark.

“Oh Aoi, good morning to you!”

He didn't speak to you, it was directed to the npc shopkeep you were chatting with and yet it grabbed your attention. Thoma is ‘special’, Thoma is relevant and so he must be avoided and you failed.

Thoma spoke of how lovely the nights have been, of the soft whistles of sea, even to npcs Thoma was a gentleman starting conversation. He then noted how ‘unique’ your eyes are, a depth to them he's never seen before. That comment frightened you, made you rush to leave, to stop the change. Quickly you felt a hand on your shoulder,

“Please excuse my rudeness but how about we have a stroll? I know its unfair of me to ask a stranger such a thing but… you remind me of a home away from home, if you would grant me such a pleasure that is.” he ended with a chuckle. You have been so realistic up to this point, so good at avoiding ‘change’ but you have a heart and knew all too well that whatever feeling Thoma is experiencing is something important to him. You have a heart and so you accept. A single light hearted stroll became a weekly meet at the shop front, ‘coincidentally’, which became a personal relationship which became a friend. It's alright though, Thomas is a social guy, he's close with many npcs who never impacted the ‘plot’, you can be one such npc, that's fine. Change is fine.

It's not fine. Meeting with Thoma you eventually met with other ‘special’ individuals you knew by name before they even knew of your existence. It's a weird feeling to know a person before getting to meet them, all the private details, their worries, their joys and yet to remain oblivious.

“A formal greeting from the Kamisato Clan, I am glad to see Thoma has a new friend. Do treat him well, sadly I must make short of this meet.” and the man who is most likely the most influential to whatever ‘plot’ is to come of Inazuma greeted. Kamisato Ayato was amongst your top ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ list other than the archon herself and yet somehow naive bliss and a VERY convincing plea(almost suspiciously good) from Thoma to have lunch by the beaches near the residence of the Kamisato Clan lead you right into his ‘life’. You have no ‘life’, you are meant to have no ‘life’, no value or effect and yet by each interaction with those deemed ‘special’ by the world your plans crumble.

Ayato then promptly bowed and walked out the residents gate, a body guard joining him as he started his track along the path you had just taken towards the city.

“Ah right, he has that meeting. A pity, if his schedule was more open I would have asked for him to join us.” Thoma turned to you with a quick hesitant smile, “he's really not as imposing as you may think he is. Ah well… maybe he still is but just in a different way then what the people expect. If you'd like, maybe I could let you know when my lord and I are doing something casual, if you would be comfortable with that of course. I forget just how intimidating the idea of being casual with a clan lord can be to someone who doesn't know him as well as I do.”

“Thank you for the offer Thoma but I'd like it if we just kept it the two of us. You are right, the idea is a little frightening right now.”

You knew what Thoma meant by all that, he means that Ayato is a genuine person underneath his political mask. Ayato is a brother, a friend and a man caring for those deemed under his protection and to those lucky enough to see under his mask they may be met with the unlucky fate of becoming a target to his mischievous nature.

Still, the idea of getting involved with someone so influential is nauseating even if just for something ‘casual' as Thoma has in mind. In truth you shouldn't even be here, here near the Kamisato Clan, here near someone like Thoma, here in Teyvat in the first place. You shouldn't be here.

“I see, that's expected haha.” Thoma smiled at you wildly, reaffirmed at the idea of something going on in his mind (if only knowing what said idea was was as easy as opening a character profile and reading a line directly out of his thoughts) “Well we are still here for a good time. Let me get that blanket and pillows for the beach quickly. You are going to love it!” Thoma quickly skipped into the yard of the clans walls while you waited outside and watched as the npcs you recognized patterned around the area. That one person at the commission board, you had forgotten his name by now after fulfilling Inazumas reputation months ago. There was the old lady sweeping in the yard, what did she comment on again? … … it never came to you, it was all forgetful anyway. A sudden feeling of envy hit you. They were forgetful, oh how lovely that would be to ease your nerves. To know that each day the sun rises you can follow your coded script without fear of altering the fate of the very universe by the time the sun goes down. Wow, you've messed up haha.

Thoma returned quickly as promised, a blanket and two pillows clutched under one arm as a basket was held in another but probably most heavy of all was the giant smile on his face, wrinkling his cheeks with a sense of genuine happiness. No wonder you messed up, it would be impossible to say no to him. It's all his fault and yet you felt you could never put the blame on him.

“Well, sorry to have starved you of your lunch for so long, we are nearly there and I can't wait to see your reaction.” Thoma then lead you through a short path of the surrounding forest and down towards the beach.

Perhaps your recollection of the game isn't accurate, you could have sworn a group of enemies should be nearby the beach here but all along the coast line was just gentle laps of the waves upon white sand. Thoma layed out the blanket with little worries evident on his face, he placed both pillows down then removed his shoes, each unclad foot stepping on the blanket to avoid spreading sand all over it, you promptly did the same, sitting down and placing the basket you had down next to his.

“This place is lovely at any time of the day but especially during sunset, I would have asked for you to join then but I feared it would make things inconvenient for you but still, spending the afternoon here is just lovely nonetheless.” he criss crossed his legs and then beamed at you.

“Come on then, don't keep me waiting, I'm dying to try out one of your baked goods.”

Right. One of the first things you did when you realised you were now living in the game was (panic, cry, internally scream in confusion as to how this has happened and if your world will keep on going and you aren't in it) actually to set up an identity for yourself. Running around and claiming to have come from another world and how you somehow know very personal details of select people and the future fate of the nation would lead to either your banishment or a future altered and possibly worse where peace was not founded, the resistance killed off and the entire plot of the ‘game’ thrown off. Not a good idea. Instead you tried to incorporate yourself into the ‘npc lifestyle’ as quickly as possible. You came up with a backstory that befit this world, you are a failed Sumeru scholar who has come to Inazuma to lead a new simple life outside of your failures. (In truth you stole inspiration for the backstory from some npc you think was on Sangonomiya Island.) It makes sense, people you tell won't ask you more about your past details in fear of being insensitive and Sumeru scholars are sometimes brought to Inazuma. You explained your (fake) predicament to a shop vendor who referenced you to the local baker who took you on. Now you bake goods behind the walls, don't face any customers and have a very npc-like backstory and job. You set yourself up well which was helped by all the knowledge you have of this world. Too bad you messed up all that work and are sat in front of someone ‘special’. Maybe you can salvage the situation, maybe it's not as bad as you think it is, you only have ‘maybes’ which isn't helpful since you had a ‘definitely’ to rely on before Inazumas ‘quest’ was finished by the hero.

You just smile at Thoma and reach your basket. “I made some simple bread rolls and brought some butter and jam but I also made some black sesame biscuits before leaving work. Thanks again for convincing my boss to let me off early today, things get busy there.”

“Not a problem, I don't often take days off either but I think I just needed a break today and imagined it would be a nice chance to get to know you more. How about you pass me one of your rolls in exchange for a serving of okonomiyaki? Sorry it's probably cold by now but should still be good.” He reached into his basket taking out some wooden containers as well as some cloths, likely for cleaning any spillages, and handed you one with you exchanging and giving him a roll and butter from your pack.

You both nibbled at each other's creations, the bread rolls were still slightly warm on the inside since you had baked them before leaving, which Thoma commented on how lovely it is with the butter. The okonomiyaki you took pieces out of was cold but packed with various spices and toppings which really highlighted Thomas skills.

“I just love that we can do this!” Thoma announced after his last bite. “I love getting to make and share things with friends, it's touching the combined effort put into it as well as the delicious outcome we get to enjoy. Haha, my lord and I do a similar thing but its outcome is not as enjoyable as warmed bread and butter, if anything it's concerning haha. Remember how earlier I said how he can be a little intimidating, our little cook outs are one such example. I really have to steel myself for those.” he chuckled and then leaned down on his elbows.

Once again, what he's trying to explain is something you already know of but need to act oblivious to. You have to convince yourself to be unaware and yet need to be aware enough to avoid ‘changing’ anything, this task has grown rather wearing but is essential to keep up your act.

“Oh? How could cooking together turn out so threatening? You two are close though.” He laughed

“It's because we are close that he feels he can torment me with his cooking. I swear, I'm surprised I haven't kneeled over and died yet. Worst part is he knows it's tomenting, it's the best part to him! Agh- I've had so many of my own treats I've made be ruined by whatever his plan is. Haha, it's amusing to look back on but just so daunting at the moment. When I said we could do something ‘casual’ with him I do not mean having one of these cook outs haha, I could never subject you to that.”

The nature of the conversation stayed light hearted, you both exchanging from your baskets while sharing stories or light hearted moments, you had altered your side of things a little, you spoke truth of personal events but under the filter to fit with your backstory, that way lies couldn't catch up with you or forgetting lots of little made up details. The outing was rather pressuring in concept, so much could go wrong since you are involved, but in reality it was very nice. You had kept yourself back a lot when it comes to building relationships with the people around you in fear of your influence potentially changing something important but you are still human and still have social needs but even people like your boss, coworkers and the shop vendors you chat with in passing never fit what it meant to have a friend, to have someone to sit next to and simply have a good time with.

Maybe you've been in this world for too long, you fear you may slip into making a ‘normal’ life here now that you've had a taste of what it means to ‘live’.

The sun started moving, waves became more rash upon the shore and the signs of the afternoon turning to evening became evident. You started packing up your basket and containers, lightly chatting on with Thoma about the seaside. To the side you heard footsteps and Thoma sat himself up straight to look at the oncomer.

“Oh! Done with the meeting my lord?”

Your hand slipped in fright, the container lid clattering as you tried to put it with its matching box. Shit, why is he here? Shouldn't Ayato be too busy? Isn't that one of his whole character points? Not once was ‘strolls on the beach’ mentioned in any of his character lines. You looked up and smiled at him in greeting, your face tugged up tensely and trying very hard to look at ease. You decided it would be easier to let Thoma handle him and just got back to packing your things away.

“Good evening to you too,” he chuckled softly and shifted his gloves, “the meet is done without any problems. When I got back home I wondered if you were still out here, seems I was right. I can now also fix a prominent mistake of mine.”

Even though you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact and look busy it's not like you had mountains to put away, you were left empty handed with a pair of well polished shoes in front of you, their sheen contrasted with the speaks of sand now defiling them. You took a breath in and looked up properly to meet his gaze.

“I do apologise for being so rash earlier, I would have liked a proper introduction. As you can surmise i am Ayato, Thoma has mentioned of you before and I am glad to have the honor of meeting you in person.” he smiled in greeting, no doubt he would have offered a hand or a bow if you both were at the same height but for now a smile would do.

“Right, it is truly an honour Lord Ayato. Thank you for extending your welcome to me.” you bowed slightly.

He laughed slightly, deeply amused.

“Do just call me Ayato in private like this and last I recall, yes my property is in the area but that doesn't warrant me the entire beach side. In truth I have not welcomed you at all.”

Thoma sighed slightly, “My lord please don't tease them so readily, I would like to eventually re invite them here but I can't do that if you've scared them away.”

“Of course, maybe then I can truly offer my welcome and they may join us to tea in the confines of the clan.”

Thoma sighed again at the slight continuation of Ayato's mischief. You took the opportunity of their exchange as an opening and stood up.

“Thank you for the food today Thoma and for bringing me to such a lovely place. I'll get going before it gets too late.”

“Oh, let me walk you back then.”

You shook your head in defiance, “No need, I know the way and it doesn't make sense for you to walk all the way just to have to return. Bringing me here was amazing in itself.”

You turned to Ayato and bowed again, less in respect and more so to keep away from eye contact.

“Thank you again Lord Ayato. Stay well.” and quickly you make your way off the sands of the beach and towards the trek back home into the outer city.

Thoma and Ayato stayed still, simply watching you go in silence until you were out of eyesight. It was Ayato that broke the silence.

“You are sure they do not carry any ill intent?” he said monotonously, still looking at the spot you disappeared to.

“I am sure. They are a decent person and I double checked, they don't have a past linked to any organisation. Sure they are rather anxious, I see it often, a little skittish at times and slightly paranoid but it's not at the prospect of the clan. Haha, if you've taught me anything it's to be aware of people's intentions, if anything they are trying to run away rather than to get close. I can assure you, they don't have an agenda against the clan.”

Ayato breathed out, then turned himself to properly look at Thoma, his face relieved. “If that's your judgement it must be true then.”

…

An odd moment of silence spread between the two of them on the beach, both looking out as the sky took on warmer hues of yellow and orange clashing with its deeper blues.

“You've been coming here a lot more recently and to have invited a friend here as well, has your mind been on your homeland?”

Thoma chuckled and leaned back out on the blanket, now dusted with sand and corners crinkled after the day's events, “I have. Thinking about the mountains of Mondstadt and all the memories just out there across the ocean. It's not in a sad sense, not at all, it's just that recently-,” he paused, looking away from the ocean and down to his lap, slightly gnawing on his lip in thought, “recently i've felt more… connected with myself. It's a nice feeling if not slightly concerning. I feel I'm getting to know myself better but it also just clearly shows how much I have yet to discover.” He sighed, closed his eyes and fully laid down on his back.

Ayato looked down on his friend, doing as he does best and figuring out just what was going on in his mind, his feelings, the reasons for such feelings and the potential catalysts that brought them about. He kneeled down onto the blanket beside his friend, form straight from a lifetime of practice.

“Does your new friend have anything to do with it?” he asks only to be met with silence, Ayato doesn't need an answer, he already knows it's true but just why that is so is still unknown.

“It isn't that you have fallen for them have you? I didn't think of you as one for love to occur after a reasonably short time.”

Thoma opened his eyes languidly and responded this time.

“I don't think it is love. Not yet but… i'd say i've definitely fallen for them haha, in whatever way that is i'm not sure but it feels… unbridled in nature.” he closed his eyes once more and shook his head at his own emotions. He tugged on a smile and relieved himself of his weighing thoughts, “So i'd appreciate it if you don't chase them away okay? I look forward to figuring out what's going on with both myself and with them.”

Ayato nodded wordlessly, not needing to disturb the quiet with a response.

…

“Ayato, did you notice the look in their eyes? It truly just- it just instantly made me feel like I was reliving my home town but also… not. It was familiar but also so foreign.”

“I hadn't gotten a good look at them in truth. They seemed rather determined in keeping their eyesight on anything but me.”

Thoma nodded in acknowledgement, “Makes sense. I do hope they warm up to the idea of the three of us doing something together eventually. Haha, once they've settled their nerves they are very comforting to talk with, I think you'd like them.”

Comfortable silence stretched along the two, the shades of yellow and orange in the sky deepening to reds and purples. In time Ayato stood up, no doubt with the intent of work to finish. He turned to leave before side glancing at Thoma.

“The nobushi that often occupy these beaches, you've disposed of them correct?”

“Did it just this morning to make sure the beach was safe for today as well as to clear out the threat they bring.”

Ayato sighed in annoyance.

“I still can't believe those ruffians believe they outwit us, thinking being close to the clan means they may spot our vulnerabilities.” he shook his head slightly, like the ‘danger’ the oathless samurai possessed was nothing but a pesky fly.

He then made his way back to the clan home leaving Thoma to steep in his own thoughts.

It was after this interaction that you decided to cut things down. At first you imagined Thoma to be the safest ‘special’ person to come across, given how social he is and loved by many you could become a face in the crowd while also tending to your social needs and appeasing Thoma who, and you still wonder why, wanted to get closer to you. Following the path you've taken recently, of course you were wrong, in fact Thoma should have been on that list of ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ for the very reason you thought it was safe to: he's social. Very quickly you had realised in your time meeting with him that he would smile and wave to many walking by, one such instance was panic inducing when you noticed Yoimiya come over to greet him. Before she had fully skipped up to the both of you you had promptly dismissed yourself and ran back to the confines of your walls to avoid meeting someone so ‘special’.

This was Thomas' problem, he is the network that is connected to so many ‘characters’ that by staying by his side means undoubtedly meeting with the others. Today's incident was clearly that, you met Ayato, you were right there at the clan bordering the line of stepping into the grounds of one of the most impactful places of Inazuma and it was Thoma that had convinced you to do so. You had been too lenient on your rules recently, too selfish. You don't follow these rules you've written up for yourself because you want to but because you know it's for the better of the future and altering such a future because you can't stay inline is selfish to every being in Teyvat that could possibly be influenced by your choices.

To live means to influence your environment, to live means to leave an impression that proves your existence. You wish for nothing right now other than to ‘die’, be void of life and find comfort in that, to finally release the stress of what it means to have all this information of the world and not belong in it but you are still human, you have needs to fulfil and ‘dying’ is not one of them.

It was time to cut Thoma off, it hurt because you knew it would hurt him but it would be better this way. That night you closed your eyes to rest, determined on your new path but gut wrenching in a myriad of emotions, fear, pressure, uncertainty, sadness. You haven't slept well ever since coming to this world and that night was no different. You fell asleep cursing the ground you walk on, cursing the details that swamped your mind, cursing your very existence and the trouble it causes to both this world and yourself.

Separating yourself from Thoma was simple, firstly you changed your shopping time, no longer ‘coincidentally’ meeting with him like you had these last few weeks. Secondly, you asked your boss for more work, that way you have an excuse. You aren't a ‘bad person’ for suddenly leaving Thoma, no it’s because work has been busy and you just don't have the time. This system worked, you hadn't stumbled on him while in the city and the few times he did come to your workplace you simply told him that you were busy and needed to get back to work. This system went on for weeks and was perfect for devoiding your existence of ‘live’, which yes was depressive, you could feel yourself go mad at the amount of work you put on yourself and lack of outlet, but it worked. The extra work did help with the issue of mora as well (the value of mora being confusing ingame where how a single egg was 400 mora and yet 1 mora is represented as a single coin but you realised quickly it was just the ingame market system) which lightened the financial strain a little. You worked from early mornings to late nights, arms dead by the end of the day. In truth you know it isn't a healthy cycle, often coming home and skipping meals just to bathe and sleep, but it was necessary.

Inazumas rains soaked the land, luckily no thunder was present but the trek from the city to nearby village was still made difficult in the wet weather. Your eyes focusing and unfocusing, legs on autodrive walking you towards a particular customer of your workplace who the boss is very fond of. The old lady you were delivering to had been coming to the bakery for years but in her age can no longer make the walk to the city. Your boss found it mandatory to provide for such a loyal customer and so your weekly walk to deliver her breads was on the way.

In the rain was silence, just the sound of your wet shoes on the mud and the rhythmic clank of the wooden box you carried and its latch. The world began to blur, shapes and colours combining as the rain obscure your vision and the melody of your steps, the rain's patter and the wooden latch soothed your mind. Peaceful, a sleepwalk yet not unconscious.

Peace is never retained.

“Look, a stray lamb. Ha! The rain brings fortune indeed.” a swallowed out voice but a few steps away from you got you out of your daze. A wandering samurai, perhaps 3 all together, walked from the side of the path towards you from the river. If this had been ingame the confrontation would be nothing more but an annoyance, 4 ‘characters’ to choose from to easily snuff them out or the option to just run away until they gave up chase. In reality this confrontation means little less than a deathly denouement. Heavily armed, well trained men with seemingly no morals and a thirst for sick entertainment against a human bering no vision, a basket of bread and a fatigued body leaves little wonder as to how this will end. Panic arose at the realisation, the very human phenomenon of ‘fight or flight’ kicking in, and as a baby bird strives to the air you push off your feet, adrenaline quickly awakening your senses and urged your body to a change of direction and just as a fledgling's first flight you fall. Hard. Your mind may have awoken but your body had not caught the message, instead you lay your head in the dirt, all motive diminished, just your sad existence lay bare for a bunch of hostile mobs, stupid coding of copy paste enemies, to take your life. In all honesty this is perfect, you wish to retain as accurate to an npc life as possible? What better way than to die a meaningless death. That brought enough comfort to you to allow yourself to close your eyes (disregarding the other factors such as shock, exhaustion and most likely a concussion from the fall)

Perhaps a few of your questions will be answered now, if you die here will you reawaken into your own world? Will the months of lifetime in this fictitious game be nothing but a dream or will you truly die and merely sink into the mud as nothing more than a mistake upon this world? Neither as it seems the feeling of the rain pelting on your body ended, the sounds of swords being drawn and clashing washed away and your head, though still paining, layed on something far more welcoming than wet earth.

“Are you regaining consciousness then?” you feel hands lean your body up, a hand moving you face side to side prompting your eyes to open. They are met with the analytically eyes of Ayato still looking over your features for whatever wear and tear you may have gathered.

“To have fallen so gracefully in such a life threatening moment, truly your abilities are unmatched to any I have seen before. I am surprised you garner such mud and bruising, I had expected you to be dressed in only the most comfortable of clothing by the way you so effortlessly went to rest.” Oh for fucks sake-

You properly awaken, now relying on your own balance to stay sitting upright and Ayato moving his hands away only to have his eyes peering closer to you. You swipe at your face, lumps of mud clinging to your hand in turn. You heave a sigh just to gather yourself for a moment before speaking.

“What happened? Why would you be here if it means I'm not dead? Ah- sorry,” you jumped into accusations before even giving thanks, not suspicious in the slightest, “my head is still sore. Sorry, I must thank you for rescuing me, I would be dead if not for you.”

Ayato hummed and nodded his head. “To answer your question, I was on my way to the city before the rain started, not wanting to get wet. I waited here under this shelter until I saw you stumble right into that group of noboshira and now we are sat here. As for your apology, it's accepted, you are welcome.”

Why was he acting like this? Mischievous sure but with a slight hint of pride or cockiness in vulgar terms. Sure he's a noble but usually he adores the ‘polite lord’ act rather than ‘cocky aristocrat’. His attitude reminded you of how he interacts with those he deems ‘close’ rather than a stranger he's met only once. Yes you are close with Thoma which may influence how he sees you but surely not to the extent of you two being ‘close’ in turn.

And still you must play the fool, be gracious and oblivious like you could never tell between his mask and his true face.

“Thank you so much Lord Ayato, truly you've saved my life.”

You stand to bow, to leave but he holds your wrist at the movement.

“Do not move so hastily now, the rain is still ongoing and I would not like to see a recurrence of you laying in the mud, no matter how amusing the first time may have been. Do sit back down.”

No denying that, no matter how much you wanted to make distance between the two of you, trying to run away would only cause more problems. You sit back down on the bench, a rickety structure just outside the village with hardly enough space for two. You look to the ground at your feet, watching as rain drops just a few inches away. Ayato sighs, made clear you have no intent of starting a conversation. Perhaps his political side kicks back in, going blunt and straight to the point.

“You have been avoiding Thoma these last weeks, he's become distressed at the idea he's done something wrong.” you do not reply.

“Is it because of my involvement? I understand you may be pressured by our difference in class but both Thoma and I have made it clear that should not be a problem when in private so why is it you fear me? I have seen those intimidated by my title but your anxiety runs deeper than that. I personally don't care as much but if it distracts your relation with Thoma then I suggest it should be dealt with.”

This questioning is unnerving, it is tearing right to the point where the only truth is to reveal the true origin of your situation. That cannot happen so you reply with what you usually do, not exactly a lie but a truth wrapped along with missing context.

You fake a sigh, “My Lord I am… I am an introverted person by nature. When Thoma approached me I- I accepted his conversations not to be rude and i do genuinely enjoy being with him but i- he's a social person, I knew he was and it was uncomfortable for me to get involved but I tried it's just the moment I met with someone such as yourself, someone so… powerful I realised just how large his social circle is. I can't keep it up, being with him means being with others and I can't handle that.” it was the truth, yes you played it up a bit but hopefully it's an explanation Ayato would accept.

“So you do not consider your friendship special enough to warrant such efforts?”

“No!” you lift your head to him, for once properly looking at him, “It is, he is special, he is special beyond your understanding it's just that… I don't fit in, I don't belong by his side and meeting you and others just proves that.”

Ayato looked at you for a moment, seemingly lost in your words, perhaps not understanding the phrasing you used but he quickly morphed back into his usual laid back but self assured look.

“Was that your decision to make?” He let out a soft huff of air and looked forward to the oncoming rain. Why did he wish to avoid the rain? Given his character trailer where he casually accepts it, his skills being water based and summoning quite literal rain not to mention the casual manner his attacks have him kneeling right into it, how could he act so off put by walking along when the storm was hardly harsh, a summer spray in truth, you wouldn't have accepted going on this delivery if the weather was any worse.

“It's comforting. Something I can appreciate both from a distance and up close. Water has a tendency of being both stubborn and flexible, it moves as it wishes and chips away at that it deems in its way. When in motion it is hard to stop, when stagnate it proves hard to move.”

Ayato turned back to you, eyes alight with something more than just his blue hues, they appeared with a sheen, not from the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied. Without a character profile to read it actually is very hard to tell what goes on in his mind.

“Such waters remind me of you. So stubborn in some label you've put yourself under and yet so quick to wash away when it is threatened. You call such a label as being ‘introverted’ but I imagine it's something more isn't it? Perhaps it is insensitive of me to get into, from Thoma I hear you've had an unfortunate past in your time as a scholar and the depths of your reason may lay there but if you truly wish to integrate into a life in Inazuma then avoiding the people you come across, myself and especially Thoma, all under the pretext of being ‘introverted’, then you will find your burdens much heavier.”

In a very storylike fashion the rains seemed to ease, droplets turning to drizzle. Ayato stood up and readjusted his coat cuffs, “At the very least explain to Thoma your reasons, I did not exaggerate when I said he has become distraught.”

You stood in turn, head buzzing but no longer in the previous pain. You nodded to Ayato, your anxieties haven't shown any actual proof and yet you hurt someone who has shown nothing but kindness and acceptance to you, it is wrong.

“I will, you are right.”

Ayato offered his hand to you for a hand shake, both as an untold promise to explain yourself to Thoma and as a simple goodbye gesture, you shook it with a strong resolve.

“I look forward to hearing more about you in the future. Do keep yourself well and avoid potential naps in the mud, it's not the most comfortable of places.” he smiled at you with a cheeky glint of amusement before turning his back and walking to the direction of the city.

You sat back down on the bench, intent on waiting out the remaining drizzle, and leaned against its wooden pillars. It's all so conflicting, when you try to do right for this world you hurt and confuse those around you, if you try to appease the people around you you risk threatening their future. You bare a cursed mind of information, a cursed existence upon this plane, it isn't right to affect others by the curse you bare but it also isn't right to devoid someone so giving as Thoma.

You sit and contemplate until the drizzle gives way, your carry box placed by your feet filled with breads untouched by dirt and still awaiting their destination.

Ayato strolls along the path to the city, it is not his usual reasoning for taking the trip but still a reason worth doing so. Along his path all threats had been eliminated, you should arrive just fine but it wasn't that which plagued his mind, rather it was a soft sense of amusement, a sense of glee that left him softly chuckling to himself. He adjusted the cuffs of his gloves, a sign to his Shuumatsuban in hiding that they are to leave him for a moment, once the soft shuffling of unseen ninja pass he turns is view to your direction, the distance hindering the sight, he needed a moment to himself, to gather all possible elements at play to give reason to his unspoken questions.

“As expected, Thoma was right, they do hold some degree of depth.”.

The words Ayato left with you clung to your mind, in all this time interacting with ‘characters’ you haven't once seen anything alter the course of the world yet. Perhaps it's a twisted Butterfly effect and your actions have changed something you cannot see but Teyvat was still intact and no news of a newly declared war has come about (for whatever reasons your actions may potentially had started a war in the first place). Perhaps the time of paranoia can finally come to an end and you can ‘live' a little, truly live here if it means spending the rest of your life in this world. You also owe it to Thoma. You've done everything in your power to avoid him when he's done nothing less but show genuine interest in getting closer to you and with Ayato's words you can confirm that you've hurt him. In your time knowing him, truly knowing him, not as a character reading lines of script, not as a collection of pixels on a screen but as a real person with flesh and feelings, it's really made you appreciate him more than anything one could feel for a fictional character. Thoma is not fictional in this world and in this world he looked to you for a friendship, you lead him on in your weakness and now he has to face the loss because of your choices. Ayato was right, you truly don't have the right to make this decision but the least you can do is make up for your mistakes and keep your promises. Teyvat isn't going to fall apart just because you want a friend, what led you to think you could change the fate of the universe in the first place? Fate is a strong thing, it will not break so easily just because you exist. The rest of the ‘plot’ will go on as normal, the ‘hero’ is most likely still in Sumeru sorting out their issues and that ‘hero’ can go on and change Teyvats fate, you can sit still, live a normal life and they can keep the story going.

You decide the best way to apologise is to show Thoma you genuinely care and the best way to do that, (other than actually talking to him) is to do what he's already established means a lot to him, make something. Thoma loves to see the effort people put into something much more than the actual execution of it. You are hardly a master baker yet he savours what you bake like it's been done by a professional, so play to your strengths. You finish your work day, inform your boss you will no longer be taking the overtime and rest for the day. Not wanting to rush into things too quickly you wait a few days and in your spare time make a batch of miso butter cookies and a simple fresh loaf of shokupan on the day you decide to meet him. It being a weekend you were off work but that also meant Thoma wouldn't be in the city, he does his trips here only during the week when he needs specific supplies for his upkeep of the clans residence. Taking a walk to the Kamisato Clan is quite the walk but you owe it to him to get this done, he can't be the one to keep chasing after you, you need to show you want to be close as well.

You arrive midday, the walls of the clan still so daunting, and walk to the entrance where the clans guards await, noticing your presence long before you could actually stand before them.

“Good day, I am here to deliver something to Thoma.”

The guard eyes you but responds, “He's out. If you have any deliveries you can leave them here where they will be checked before entering the clan.”

Thoma isn't here? Shit. That makes this whole thing a bust.

“Do you know where he's gone or when he'll come back? I'd prefer to see him in person.”

“No. Please leave any packages here and-” the guard was cut off as the man of the house walked up to the entrance, Ayato offered a slight smile, perhaps to ease your nerves at the guard's menacing stance though that is his job, before turning to said guard.

“They are a guest and are welcome to the clan. Thank you for serving your duties but they are free to enter.”

The guard bowed and uttered a small, “Yes my lord.”

Ayato then stood to the side to allow you in, his arm outstretching the direction in welcoming.

“Ayaka and I were just having tea in the break of our schedules. Please do join us.”

Well it seems you will be meeting Ayaka (for the second time), not expected, not something you were prepared for but if you are to truly let go of your worries then meeting Ayaka should not be a problem.

You follow suit and see Ayaka sitting at the table on the outside courtyard, she smiled in greeting as you and Ayato approached.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Ayaka Kamisato.” she nodded in greeting. It's a little difficult to respond to people such as Ayaka and Ayato whom are so versed in proper Inazumaian etiquette but you've been in Inazuma for long enough to have picked up some things. You bow slightly in turn, “A pleasure as well Lady Ayaka, thank you for welcoming me to your home.” You responded in a similar way when first meeting Ayato though you imagine conversing with him from now on would be a lot more relaxed after your previous meetings. Said man indicated for you to sit beside his sister which you did, form a lot less refined compared to the pair of siblings.

“Ayaka, this is the person Thoma has been talking about as of late. A new friend to the Kamisato Clan.”

“Oh! It's truly wonderful to put a face to a name. Thoma has spoken only positives about you. What brings you here?”

You look down to the wooden box in your hand, your apology gift.

“I need to speak with Thoma and give him something.”

You don't even need to look at Ayato to know that he's fully aware of what your meeting with Thoma is all about.

“I see. He's gone out for a walk at the moment but should be back soon. Anyway,” it felt like ice drawn at the blunt way she changed the topic. She quickly turned back to Ayato, more specifically the paper in her hands, with a look of true delight on her face.

“The travellers' tales of Sumeru are incredible! Such a different place but the stories they are embarking on are memorising.” her eyes had a sheen to them, not the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied.

“Their letter details so much, the food, the culture, the people as well as all the situations they've ended up in.” she giggles, lifting her hand to cover her joy but not truly caring about it since she was in such comfortable company which is… odd considering you just met.

Ayato looks at you with a quick strained smile, almost to say, ‘sorry she's overlooking you’ but quickly returned to paying his attention to Ayaka.

“I am not surprised they often find themself in trouble haha though it is good to know they are enjoying their time there. Do they mention when they may return to Inazuma?”

Ayaka looks slightly dejected at that, “No. They say they need to stay in Sumeru for now but will come to the next major festival if they can.” she takes a deep breath in and releases it. “I hope it's soon. I want to hear all these stories from their mouth rather than just as words on a page.”

So Ayaka also has that ‘crush’ on the traveller which was very heavily implied in the game. That must be the reason she is so relaxed and open with her emotions here.

She looked back down at the letter, a soft smile developing. “I hear Yoimiya is planning on taking a trip to Sumeru in the future, perhaps I can ask her to deliver a token from me to the traveller while she is there.”

Ayato's smile remained as always listening to his sister but the small crinkle of the wrinkles by his eyes increased slightly for but a moment before relaxing. His wrinkles… a pity the game models of the characters didn't implement small details such as those. It would have been interesting to see what small features the characters had ‘realistically’ that weren't shown. Would Jean have bags around her eyes? Would Albedos skin have a slight difference of texture than normal? Perhaps Cyno has a more defined tan or Xiangling having slight burn blisters on her hands from cooking and her vision? You've only had a closer look at Thoma and he was so much more ‘real’ than just a 2D image which was slightly unsettling at first but normal now. What interesting things to think about…

“How about you join her?”

Your fascination died instantly. What? No, Ayaka will NOT be joining Yoimiya, that's not how it goes. Ayaka will deny or something will stop her.

“Really? But what of my responsibilities? I don't even know if she'd accept me joining.” Exactly.

“Do not fret, I will have your duties covered and Yoiymiya is your friend, I think she'd appreciate getting to share the trip with you. You deserve a break as well and I see no better opportunity than this.” No, no, no, no you won't because she's not going.

Ayaka stood up, elation beaming off of her while she clutched the letter closer to her.

“Thank you brother! Oh I must ask Yoimiya right away!”

She bowed and made haste out the residence not even sparing you a glance, to her you were a nobody. Her mind was solely on making this trip. You sat in shock, in the past her forgetting about you would be amazing, proof of your ‘npcness’ but you only felt stunned. Ayaka doesn't go to Sumeru, only Yoiymiya does for her second story quest, Ayaka is not involved, Ayaka does not show up, Ayaka is not part of that plot!

“I'm glad she can have a chance to experience the world outside the residence though having to cover for her duties will prove tedious.” Ayato shook his head, then chuckled. “But I'm not opposed to it for this.”

Just how- how has your involvement changed this?! It must be your fault, it can only be your fault, the story has gone on exactly as it was shown in the game so why is this different? What could you have done to make Ayaka go?

“Hmm?” Ayato noticed your silence, “Is something the matter?”

You swallow the spit that had accumulated in your mouth and regained as much composure as possible. “Yes yes I am fine I just- I just need to go have a quick walk by myself. I will be back soon.” It's all you could say. Your mind switched to autodrive in shock and walked you away, neither mind nor eyes truly focusing on anything but your legs walking you a path you've taken many times before yet never once stepped on, into the forests behind the clan house.

Walking in the tanuki filled forest may not have been the best idea, you recall ingame how Hilichurls and Fatui mages are ‘spawned’ here yet your walk was nothing but peaceful. The sound of the stream was somewhat calming, it helped you to think logically. Just because Ayaka says she's going to go on this trip doesn't mean she actually will, something will happen that will prohibit her from going to Sumeru. She is a very important character, her absence in Inazuma may cause something terrible to happen that didn't ingame. Maybe she helps a person in need ‘canonically’ but because in this existence she leaves for Sumeru she isn't there to save said person, that person dies or many people die which could upset their families which could cause them to lose faith in the (police) which could lead to disrupt in the city which could… which could… leave blood spilt?

You stopped your rambling thoughts, eyes zoning in on the pools of blood on the moss covered stones. Whatever caused this is nothing you should get involved in, until a sound of a strangled hiss, electro energy popping and fizzing in the air, a shriek of vengeance and then… nothing. The sound came from further ahead to the right behind a large mound, you watch to see the source, feet ready to run away as the slightest threat. Footsteps sounded and around the bend came a semi dirt covered Thoma, looking ahead with a solemn expression, seemingly dazed. His chest huffed out periodic breaths of air to regain himself and latestly wiped off his brow and took out a cloth and dabbed at the specks of blood on his clothes and arms, while doing so he turned and saw you standing motionless, eyes awide and still in semi shock. Almost instantly devastation fell upon his face, his eyes sunk in immediate sadness, he just looked at you for a second, whatever his thoughts were were his own, before quickly putting the cloth away and rushed to step towards you.

“Please just- i'm just doing my duty, I don't mean-, i'm not…” the more he tried to justify himself the more he seemed to sink into his own hole.

“I know this looks bad, you are the last person I'd want to see me like this but-” he took a deep breath in, steeled himself to elaborate properly, “it's to protect the clan. Fatui spies, rogue samurai, rival clans, a lot of them come here to spy on the clan or put us at risk, i'm just doing my duty and protecting the people who protect me.” he looked at you earnestly, hoping for your understanding, hoping you don't see him as a murderer, hoping to retrain the image of an amicable person but his soft smile of a plea also held the acceptance that you may not acknowledge his reasonings, that you'd turn your back and leave.

You do understand, you do know Thoma isn't a harmless friendly face, that he can and will do what must be done for the people he cares about, it's just that… it's a little hard to easily be calmed even with that notion when the very real blood and remains of that dedication is shown spewed across the forests floor, it's not something any ‘average’ person would not react to but still, this is Thoma, he has his reasons, it was done in the name of goodwill and he's trying to explain it to you.

You take a few steps towards him and offer a hesitant smile, “I get it, I don't see you as any less than before.”

Before you even regain your senses properly you feel his arms around you, tight and secure, his hand cupping the back of your head and hiding his face in your shoulder, so desperate to have the reassurance that it's okay but still hesitant to look at you, like you may change your mind.

“Thank you… archons above I was worried I've scared you. My word, that's the last thing I'd want…” she shook his head slightly, took one last deep breath and moved back up, his hands grasping your shoulders lightly, you could see his face up close now and he finally allowed himself to look at you, his face held a smile. “I am so happy to see you!” the heavy atmosphere diminished as Thomas usual radiance shone, “Haha, what are you doing here? It's been ages, the last place I thought I'd see you was all the way here.”

“Oh yeah, I actually came to apologise about that, about being distant. It wasn't right of me to just cut you off, I'm sorry.”

He stayed silent, only looking at you, his eyes softened and nose wrinkled in his genuine expression of embrace. “Dont worry about it, I was clingy, I'm just glad to know you are here now. I'm really happy about that.” he chuckled and shifted his weight to point you back up the path to the Kamisato residence.

“Let's go catch up shall we?”

On the walk back up you explained to Thoma your ‘reason’ for avoiding him (your half lie, half truth reason), the same one you told Ayato. You are shy and get intimidated by how social he is. Thoma nodded at your explanation, expressed his apologies for not noticing your discomfort and promised from now on he'll be more aware when you are together and not encourage meeting with others you aren't comfortable with. The walk was nice, a bit strained because of the topic but after all the knots had been loosened it felt good to be relaxed with him again.

You two entered the Yashiro court again, Ayato still sat at the table reading through some papers. Thoma turned to you, “Oh sorry, meeting with Ayato was one of the things that made you uncomfortable right? We could go somewhere else to catch up?”

“No it's alright, I met with him earlier when I arrived. I told him I'd return so it would be rude not to haha.”

The noise must have alerted said man, Ayato peaked his head up and greeted the both of you with a smile as you walked towards him and sat down.

“The both of you have returned safely from your walks then, it's good to see. How was it?”

Thoma hesitantly chuckled, “Haha, came across some trouble but nothing I can't iron out. Otherwise we just had a little talk.”

Ayato nodded and hummed.

You remember your carrier box filled with the apology gifts for Thoma and opened it.

“Thoma, I made some more biscuits and bread and wanted to give them to you, to further state my apology.”

“oh? Perfect then, we can have them with tea.” Ayato must have had someone refill the teapot while you were away as Thoma poured you both cups of steamed golden liquid and refilled Ayatos. Thoma took a biscuit and devoured it in delight, did he always over exaggerate when eating the things you baked or was his reaction authentic?

“Ayato, would you like one? They really are divine.”

“No thank you. It would be wrong of me to strip you of your joy haha.”

It was odd but so welcoming to be able to have a casual conversation with the two. It seemed easy to get lost in Thomas stories, he seemed fully invested in everything he spoke of and when listening he truly captured every word. Ayato, though not as vocal as Thoma when he did speak his words were like a maze you'd have to do a small mental puzzle to understand if they were a wise response or a guileful remark coming from his teasing nature. Though harder to understand, Ayato's words were still a welcoming part of the conversation as the three of you went on to drink and share.

Ayato shuffled his papers, putting them to the side, even on his supposed break he was reading through documents, Thoma hummed, took a quick look around then returned his gaze on Ayato.

“Where is Lady Ayaka? I thought you two were having this tea break to discuss something.”

Oh wait… Ayaka…

“Yes, she received a letter from the traveller today and was eager to share it, haha she truly is fascinated with that adventurer. She's not here at the moment however, she's gone to speak with Yoimiya. She says Yoimiya will be taking a trip to Sumeru in the future and has gone to ask if she may join.”

“Oh that's wonderful!-” Thoma hesitated, “Oh but doesn't she have some important meetings lined up these coming months with the shrine? There were those exchanges that need to be made, some deliberations about the upcoming festivals… as supportive as I am about her going on a trip, it doesn't seem doable with just how much is installed for these next 3 or 4 months.”

Oh Thoma you are truly a blessing, not only are you a true friend but you reestablished that the ‘plot’ wont change. You mouth a soundless thanks to him.

Ayato hummed and tapped his quill* rhythmically on the table. “That is true but I want Ayaka to enjoy her years and not only focus herself on clan affairs, this trip is a good first opportunity to see the world outside Inazuma and with Yoiymiya as her travel partner I do not doubt they will have a good time. As for the workload-” Ayato reached over to the paper stack and shifted through them, “I was busying myself with planning and rearranging the meetings and visits she had in the time I expect her departure will be. It is more work but it will be rewarding, you'll see.”

Thoma seemed confused, it seemed from the look on his face he was doing the same as you when it comes to Ayato's words, figuring out the puzzle but if there was an underlying meaning to his words you didn't detect them, Ayato was simply stating facts and expectations yet Thomas silence ment he was looking for more than just that. Whatever mental games Thoma was tackling he must have failed, he chuckled and melted back into his relaxed self.

“I'm glad then, it will be good for her.”

No… no this isn't right. There will be something, something will stop her from going, there must be.

“mhm, I only await to hear back from her and her meet with Yoiymiya, I don't see any reason why she would decline.”

Yoiymiya will decline, she will, she must.

“oh? Are you okay?” Ayato looks at you in concern, he puts his quill* down and gives you his full attention.

“Is something the matter? Whatever it is, I am sure we can address it.”

“No, no its okay I just realised- I had some serious stuff to do for work which i've forgotten.”

Ayato's face turns to mock surprise, you know he didn't believe you but he doesn't comment on it, Thoma does the same but you can detect the small quiver of his smile in disappointment that you are leaving so soon.

“Oh dear! Do you need help getting back home?”

“no no, i'll be fine thank you” you rush to stand up and then smile down to the two. “Thank you for today but I must go. Enjoy your afternoon.” you rush pleasantries and are out the gate before the two could press you further on your actions.

You've done it again, you came here to try to fix things but you've just made a mess. You can try to fix it tomorrow, for now the more pressing thoughts of the potential Sumeru trip Ayaka will go on drowned out any other thoughts. You walk home rushed, the long walk not helping much to ease your nerves, you can only hope fate will prevail and Ayaka will stay in Inazuma.

Ayato and Thoma sat in silence as you left, mutual understanding of the odd nature of your departure yet not wanting to address it.

“So… your ‘walk’ was fruitful then?”

“Just a few stray Hilichurls and a Fatui mage but it's been sorted.”

“Thoma, you know securing the perimeter is not part of your duties, you needn't lie about the reasoning for going out.”

Thoma did not respond.

Ayato breathed in deeply, “I am not opposed to you going out to release your emotions but I worry you may get caught up in them only to further feed into your obsessions.”

“I'm not obsessed! I'm just-” he grit his teeth in his own turmoil, “I don't want to label these feelings as ‘obsession’, that wouldn't be right to them. I don't know, I still don't know. When they stopped talking to me it felt like I'd lose them forever, that everyday I don’t see them with my own eyes is a day that they may disappear and I know that sounds obsessive but… but I don't want to call it that. I just don't…”

Ayato soaked up his friend's words like a sponge and as always his responses were either clear or muddled with undertone, this time Thoma could tell instantly Ayato's words were transparent.

“You need not worry yourself about labelling your feelings then, you two are back in contact and there is still a future for you to explore what the emotions you are holding mean. Just do not lose sight of your health and those around you, even obsession can be tamed. “

The next few months were both easier and harder than the times you were avoiding Thoma. Sure, you lessened your workload and your health improved, you stayed in contact with Thoma, not as much as before but still enough to bond over. It was good to have a friend again and the feeling was mutual, every time you did meet he seemed eager to enjoy it to its fullest. You had even met with Ayato a few more times, never to the extent of Thoma but at least it became comfortable to sit and have tea with the both of them in a relaxed manner but that was the positives, the looming threat of Ayaka changing the plot was a heavy cloud always looming. The few occasions she saw you she was cordial and respectful but her interest glossed right over like you didn't even exist. She and Yoimiya made plans, fulfilled the work she could and now here you stand on the beach you woke up on exactly 2 years ago, 2 years since you randomly came to be here in Teyvat, the same day fate was changed and both Yoimiya and Ayaka were set sail for Sumeru.

In blunt terms, youve fucked up. This was pure proof of your paranoia, this was proof your existence can cause the plot to change and the realisation of just how helpless you are in this situation dawned on you. The very act of your existence, whether you interact with those deemed ‘special’ or not, can and will change the story and you can only wonder if it will end well or if you've led something to doom.

It's not fair, it's not fair at all. Even though you've been friendly with Thoma recently it's not like you can truly confide in him and he's just a painful reminder of your mistakes. The burden of wearing this responsibility, one you didn't even know how to fulfil, one you failed to fulfil, it's unfair. You are only human, you have needs to fulfil and ‘dying’ isn't one of them…

But

But is it moral to be so selfish as to care about your own being when putting the risk of others on the line? Ayaka is gone from Inazuma, just how many people was she meant to interact with if she stayed? How will her presence in Sumeru affect the story? If you guess right the ‘hero' should be done with the main quest of Sumeru if it means Yoimiyas story quest can start but what if something happens that prohibits the plot for future stories? What of Ayakas presence delays the ‘hero’, even for a minute, in which that minute was originally meant for something in the greater scheme of things?

This is awful… this isn't right. Not only has living become so difficult because of the constant nagging of anxieties and worries but you also have the potential to be responsible for disaster simply by existing.

It isn't right… it isn't right you afflict this world with your existence and the threat it brings.

Two years ago when you awoke on this beach you hoped to retain a normal life, perhaps find a way back home but at the very least, set up a life for yourself, an npc life but at least something. It's only fitting that you felt you had to come here, to kneel in the sand and watch how its granules slip through your fingers, it's because you exist that this sand is moving… it's only fitting that you finally come to the conclusion that you must die while being here. This is the place of your ‘birth’ into this world, perhaps it can be the place of your death as well. Not ‘death’, not some convoluted meaning of ‘dying' and becoming a new person, no you need to die. You need to die to ensure the people of Teyvat can remain on course. You are the virus here, you are the disease you need… you need to die.

Tears ran down your cheeks at such a resolute statement, sure youve thought about it all but now and truly you've decided that this is it, that you must do this. It's not like you want to die, not on a personal scale, but on a mental and emotional scale all this is too much, too much to bear and too much to live through.

It's not fair to leave the people you've so selfishly afflicted with your presence without giving them a reason but you are too much of a coward to tell it to their face. It wouldnt go well if you were to stand infront of Thoma and tell him you were going to kill yourself, thats for sure but at the very least he could get some form of an explanation.

You decide tonight is not the night you die, that would be tomorrow, you stand up from the ground and walk home, the weight of your choice still as raw as the moment you decide it, death is no light matter after all.

You get home, a small space a person like yourself could afford, only the basics of furniture and 2 rooms. There under your door lay a letter, you pick it up and sit at your table where unblemished paper sat to become future suicide notes. Taking a look at the letter it was sealed in wax, the crest of the Kamisato Clan dug into its mass.

You open it,

‘Dearist XXXX

May this letter find you well. Both Thoma and myself wish to invite you for a stay at the Kamisato Clan as both a guest and a friend. The changing season brings a beautiful opportunity to witness it first hand as the trees take on their new hues and the oceans change their tides, you are welcomed to join us. Thoma sends his best wishes but asks for them to properly be said in person rather than in post. We eagerly await your response.

Signed

Ayato’

Haha… how casual for a man like him… haha… haha here you are preparing to write letters announcing your death to them and yet they think only of including you in their lives. Haha… how horrible, how utterly vile it is to be able to experience emotions such as these. These feelings only prove your point more. You put the letter to the side and stared blankly at the response you are going to reply with, oh of only it were as optimistic and welcoming as theirs was.

You tried to make it easy for both yourself and those intended to read it. You state that the mistakes of your past have lay heavy on you and that death is the only relief, that you are sorry you cannot return the sentiment of friendship and must lay your mistakes to rest.

To Thoma you leave a more personal note, telling him that he made your life here in Inazuma so much better, that it was only in the moments with him you forgot your ‘mistakes’ for even a moment and for that you are grateful. It's true, it's only Thoma who made you forget the fact you don't belong here when you spend time with him. Sending this letter to him is assured to rip his heart, he sees you as a friend and he's going to beat himself at the thought that he did not help you enough to make you feel you'd want to stay, that he wasn't a good friend, which is not true at all but you know there is little you can do to convince him otherwise. In a moment of distressed induced vulnerability, with tears in your eyes you state something so cliche as that perhaps in another life you two may be able to have the friendship you both craved in this life, if only there is a case of reincarnation and you may be born in the same universe as him and live that life with no burdens or guilt of your existence.

To Ayato you are more cordial, less emotional or descriptive but you tell him that he was right on that day in the rain, that there is a deeper problem than you just being ‘introverted’, otherwise you keep it professional.

After the hardest two were done it was rather simple, it's not like you have any friends or family to write to and sending a letter to the street vendor you buy from doesnt make sense. You do write a letter and tell your boss that you simply will not be returning to work, you don't say why, and that you thank him for all the opportunities and help he has given you.

For once it was easy to fall asleep, for the first time in 2 years the moment you lay your head on your pillow you were unconscious. For once you've felt the release of the burden you feel and the comfort that will come when your plague on this world is done. You are so tired and finally you can rest.

The next day went on simply, it was a weekday and you went to work, in the afternoon you submitted your letters to the post and walked back home, taking in the scenery of Inazuma. This will be the last time you walk these streets. You wait at home quietly, have a decent meal and enjoy the sounds from outside of leaves and people. You felt in an odd state all the way through the day, like your senses were hypersensitive noticing the slightest thing around you which was lovely. You got to focus on the squirrles you passed on your way to work, the smell of baked bread smelled heavenly once again like it had the first day you were in the bakery, the pink and purple blossoms of the trees were so vibrant on your way home. You had given the shop vendor a smile and a wave as you passed her, that day you felt no burden, no grief. You only had one more step to take, the hard part was already over with.

In the late evening you stood by that beach again, the view was incredible. You sat down in the sand and got comfortable leaning against a rock and letting the tide touch the tips of your toes. You were naughty today, you bought enough substances from clinics or herb stands to be sure you felt good in your last moments. You took them quickly and then rested your head back against the rock, letting the sound of waves softly crashing, leaves rustling and the odd animal chirp lull your mind. It took some effort not to fall asleep just yet, you blinked your eyes harshly and woke yourself up a bit. This part was slightly uncomfortable, the beach you woke up on had a slight cliff, nothing you'd die by jumping off of, it was just a little steep incline but it was enough. You took a large rock from nearby and rolled it closer to the edge, tying a rope around and around your ankle. Drowning didn't seem like a peaceful death but at least like this your body can be washed into the sea where it can decay in peace without traumatising a random person strolling the beach. You relaxed and took out the large knife you had brought with you. Bleeding out decreases the time by knocking yourself out and not having enough energy to wake up in the water and struggle. You should be numb enough now. You closed your eyes and cut lengthwise, both arms, a leg… you tried your neck but even drugged up that was beyond doable. You didn't even register when you had stopped, you didn't see the blood flowing or feel the pain as it pooled, slowly your will died out as everything became hazed. It was a feeling, not a good or bad one, you couldn't even think. You felt the weight on your ankle tug, your consciousness dropping and allowing the gravity to pull you away. Black.

You woke up. You woke up. Dazed, in pain but you did. Your eyes opened lightly, luckily it wasn't very bright. Slowly your mind awoke as well, you saw the walls and crest oh so familiar of the Kamisato Clan, of its low light lanterns on the floor and dark wood trims. What were you doing here? What were you even doing?

Each of your senses woke up from the shock they were in and soon your ears picked up sound, at first the static was all you could hear until it was voices. You inclined your head to where the sound came from. Thoma and Ayato sat at a table, what they were talking about was inaudible. Why? Why were you here?

Everything slowly came back to you, what you did, why you did it and mainly the fact that you should be dead right now and yet you were here. Panic arose which was enough adrenaline to push your body and mind completely awake. You shuffled up and looked at the two. Thoma turned at the movement and instantly reached out for you, arms cradling your head which he buried his to your shoulder, a grasp seeking for comfort yet trying to give support.

“Archons above you're awake. My word… oh my word…,” he softly cried into your shoulder but picked his head up to look at you, “Why?! Why did you do that? Why did you feel…” his face was morphed into true distress, his eyes red and slightly swollen from no doubt a long time of distress but renewed with fresh tears. “Please, you are here, you are here and yet you wanted to go-” he choked, “Why, I nearly lost you.” his head fell back down to rest onto you, “I nearly lost you…”

His arms held you tightly, confirming that you were there.

Ayato finally announced himself with a soft clear of his throat, he stayed sitting at a distance.

“Thoma, they are safe and alive. We confirmed this the moment we got them here. “ he took a moment, thinking over his words. “How about you go prepare us a pot of tea and eats and we can discuss this once we all have gathered ourselves?”

Thoma lifted himself back up, “yes… yes you are right” he gave you a squeeze and a haste kiss on the crown of your head before standing and giving you a very strained smile, ‘everything is going to be okay’ it read. Quickly he turned and sped walked out as if staying in the room for too long would prohibit him from ever leaving you. Now it was just you and Ayato.

“Come sit please or do you need assistance getting up?”

You look down at your body, arms and legs patched up in bandages and feeling weak but with a struggled attempt you found you could stand up and walk to him before nearly falling into a sitting position and looking at him. He knows what's happened, he knows the aftermath and you don't.

Ayato sighed and shifted at papers on his desk, 2 in particular, the ones you had sent out.

“We got these well after we had saved you from your incident,” he looked up to you with something of a harsh look, “you can thank the fact one of my shibatsu were watching and stopped you from falling and promptly brought you here.”

He sighed, closed his eyes tense for a moment then released and folded the papers neatly. He returned his gaze back to you.

“I know, or at least suspect, what elements are at play here. The identity you have made for yourself here as an ex Sumeru scholar, that is false, correct?”

How… How did he figure that out?

“You need to speak now, for your and Thomas' betterment. No more lies, no more half trues, no more hiding because after an event such as the one you pulled yesterday I will no longer allow such threats so please, speak.”

You opened your mouth, it felt hoarse and sore. This is it. No more hiding, no more rules or running away, he can see it all, he will know, he probably does already.

“Yes.” is all you say.

An odd assortment of a smile crosses his face, not happy but at least pleased for the development, he then went back to his blunt nature.

“I will even be so bold as to say you are not here from Teyvat, correct?”

“Yes” tears built at your eyes. 2 years of work gone, 2 years of struggling to keep the truth bound, the thing you tried to die for to keep all gone.

“There are matters I do not understand, such as the truth of the reason for your attempt yesterday but what I do know is that you are not of Teyvat, that the way my sister looks at the Traveller is the exact same way Thoma looks at you, bewitched by some foreign entity.”

What?

“I know that the Traveller is not of Teyvat, they themself have stated this to both Ayaka and myself and it was a stretch at first to make the claim you were the same as them for the simple reason that Thoma fell for you as Ayaka did for the traveller but what perhaps confirmed my suspicion was when I felt that pull as well. For some reason the way my sister described her fondness for the traveller it was only you I could imagine, when I saw Thomas eyes alight in excitement at seeing you I could tell exactly what it is since I feel the same. For nearly no reason this feeling appeared.”

He cleared his throat and continued, “I didn't only come to this conclusion based on feeling, I, as I do with all those who involve themself with the members of the clan, had research done into your past. There is no record of your existence in any school of Sumeru, there is no record of anything proving of your past, no family line or even record of you arriving by boat which is all recorded by name, yours were on no such documents.”

He sighs and then relaxes his shoulders, like he is glad he's gotten the hard part over.

“Do not worry, I can assure you I see you no less as I did before and I can promise that Thoma is the same, he in fact needs to know the truth. I have not told him of my own discoveries just yet but when he gets back I hope you reveal the light of truth on everything here and the burden you decided to relieve yourself of.”

It's hard to actually listen to him, you are too busy swimming through the currents of your own thoughts to really hear what he has to say, if you had you'd have noticed just how fond he really was being, the slight curve of his forehead in concern, the way he spoke in a tone confident but also reassuring. Ayato is a man who puts his family, friends and the clan first, even in this instance he was doing that, whatever his personal feelings on the matter were they were subdued.

You look down to the table and see the fruits of your labour, sour, distasteful fruits that bore no other purpose but to make one sick on consumption: your letters. It seemed a good idea at first but now the sight of your handwriting was nauseating, you couldn't even bare properly rereading it, to see those words you meant to be comforting only being a stain and reminder to the people who had to read them of the bilious nature of your actions. Poor Thoma…

You had no words for Ayato, not out of fear or resentment but simply because it felt like you had disappointed him, the only way you could try to make this all better is to come clean about everything, he's made it clear, there is no more hiding. Now the weighting doom of changing the course of fate didn't matter, what mattered is the crestfallen frown on his face and mellow gaze, what mattered was the troubled Thoma in the other room whom grasped at you to stay so tightly even through all the torment you've lead him though. It's over, not the good kind of ‘over' like dying would have been, your life would be over and the secrets and threat you bring would have been over, no the ‘over’ you experience is the loss of hope. Its over, all the attempts and work, the secrets and efforts made to try keep this world as safe from changing as possible was all over.

Ayato let you mull in silence, he cleared his desk and closed his eyes in wait. Not long after Thoma returned, kettle in hand and cups at the ready. He seemed quiet, more collected and focused on the task of pouring tea before sitting next to you, his folded knee jutting up and down being the only show of his nerves. He took a breath, turned to you and smiled.

“I really do just want you to know I am happy you are still here, that I want to give you all the support and care I can to make sure you know you being here is just so important. I know that I don't understand everything you've gone through and that me saying all this doesn't help make it easier but-” he had to grit his teeth, his voice stirred slightly and slight beads of tears brimmed at his eyes,”but you don't have to be alone. Right now or even dealing with your past, you don't have to be alone.”

Your breathing hitched, chest lurched and fresh tears escaped, how couldn't you? You tried to cover your mouth of noises but couldn't help but curl into yourself and cry, you don't want to do this anymore, you want his support, you want to confide in him, you want to live. Thoma rubbed your back while you cried, gentle reaffirming strokes and just let you release all the build up. After regaining yourself you lifted yourself back up, swallowed the last fragments of tears and tried to secure yourself. You took some breaths and calmed down. Thoma held your shoulder, a physical display of support, you looked up and only saw Ayato watching with an unreadable expression. Right, you need to come clean. To… get it over with…

“Thoma, thank you for this, I'm sorry, I really am.” You could tell he tried to speak, to tell you it's okay or not your fault or something along those lines but he kept himself quiet and let you speak.

“I’ll… I'll come clean about it all, about everything.” This is it. “I'm not originally from Teyvat, I believe you know the Traveller and how they aren't either? Yeah I'm something like that. So no, I'm not from Sumeru or have lived here my whole life. Just woke up one day from my world into this one and… that was that. No explanation, no guide, no help…”

Ayato had no reaction, he knew, Thoma was wide eyed in shock but stayed silent, to him you shared memories of your ‘past’, to hear what you have shared with him was wrapped in falsification was… hurtful to know that what he did know of you was all a lie in his eyes but still, he remained silent and let you continue.

“I'm sorry, I am. I didn't want to lie and a lot of the stuff I did say is true. I just… I just covered it up to match my story of being from Sumeru.”

“It-It must be hard” Thoma meekly said, “to have lost everything, your home and family… I can see why things have been so hard and confusing for you.”

You nodded to his words. It is hard, it is bloody hard. All the plans you had made for your future, your loved ones and hopes… you'll never get to see them bloom, you'll never get to see the person you hoped you'd become because you had been stripped away from everything. The extra layer of knowing what world you came into and the threat you caused of course did not help lighten the load.

You've been away for 2 years and there is no hope of going back but you are here now and have to deal with the present.

“So that's basically it.”

Ayato's frown deepened, “There is more.” his words cut through the air bluntly. “There is more to the story you haven't told us, many things that don't add up-”

“Ayato please,” Thoma interrupted him, “let them say what they need and-”

“No, they said they would clear things up here and I will make sure it is so.” he moved his gaze back to you, it was penetrating into your soul nearly emotionlessly. “So I will ask, what is the truth to your ‘introvert’ label? Why distance yourself from others at random when in your position you are needing as much support as possible?”

Shit… shit shit shit, you can't even keep this? You can't even keep the fact you know this is a game secret? Whatever… he's right, you said you'd come clean.

“... I know things I really shouldn't if I was to make a life here. It may be confusing but in short the world of Teyvat is not where I was born but I know of it, I know of its people and some of its history and even select parts of its future. I was just… trying not to change the story. I was never supposed to be here, me being here goes against what's supposed to happen- I was scared I'd change something and things would go bad, that the good endings won't happen because I've done something so I tried to distance myself from it all but i've failed! I've failed and the story has changed and I don't know what's going to happen next!”

Thoma was quiet, now this was a bit too much for him to respond to but predicting the unpredictable is Ayato's strong suit, he didn't falter his questioning even at such a bizarre statement such as the one you made.

“Why? What element has changed that pushes you to believe you’ve doomed this world?”

“Ayaka left! She's not supposed to! I don't know how or why me existing changed the story but Ayaka was supposed to stay here in Inazuma and only Yoiymiya goes to Sumeru. Now its all wrong and I don't know just what else i've affected.”

Silence for a moment, Thoma still doing his best to soak in everything while Ayato shifted his gaze away from you, when he spoke he still refused to look you in the eye. “Hmm, seems your paranoia was proven right then, it is your presence that has changed the future you believe was to take place and in truth the fault is mine.” He looked back at you, “See when I heard of Ayakas excitement in the potential trip to Sumeru I thought it would be a great opportunity, not only for her to gain new experiences but also to ask you something i've had my mind on for a while.” Thoma perked at this, recognising what Ayato was referring to.

“I had hoped to ask you to extend your services to the Kamisato clan, in whatever element suited you, I assume in the kitchen though Thoma did not disagree with the idea of potentially aiding him in his duties.” What? He wanted you to join the clan? Why? Like reading your mind he answered your unspoken questions, “See I thought you being stationed here may help the issue you seemed to have about your ‘introvertness’ with Thoma as well as providing a fresh start for you to reforge your relation with him, of course this would all be a suggestion and if you didn't agree then there is no loss and you can simply continue as you were. That is why I encouraged Ayaka to go, not only for herself but to allow you some space to get used to the idea of potentially staying here.” So that's why… but still, why?!

Thoma interrupted your thoughts, a fresh wave of excitement running through him, “But it's okay now! Now you've let us know everything and sure it's a little hard for me to understand right now but things have been cleared up and everything can go back to normal! We can work on things together and you can rely on us for help so all the other stuff can just be put to the side for now.”

“I must disagree with that Thoma, things cannot go back to normal.” Both you and Thoma turned to Ayato for his explanation, “See they have brought forth an issue, if there is supposedly a prewritten fate we follow and such story has a good end, that their influence can change such story and has already proven to do so then… that is something to consider as a threat.”

“What? No, Ayato-”

“Thoma, I am not suggesting we take the route they tried, their death is not a solution but rather I suggest the best way to reduce the effect they have is to narrow the area of impact of their presence.” Thoma sat himself back down and listened, his ability to understand Ayato far surpassed your own, you only heard his words, Thoma was on the same scale as him. “Ah, so you suggest they stay here?”

Huh? No, that still doesn't solve the issue though! You are still going to change stuff, being in the clan may make it even worse!

“I'm sorry but that can't happen!” you state, you cant let them doom themselves,”I can't stay here, you've seen I change the things around me so me being here is not a solution.”

“And what do you suggest then? Death is not an answer. Wherever you go you will impact the environment around you, is it not wise to be in an area that is accustomed to handling threats and problems? To be within the vicinity and means of a place such as here with people like Ayaka and myself whom can negate such issues? That is even under the assumption you can cause damage with your existence, all we know is that you can change this supposed ‘plot’ but have you seen any actual harm come from it?”

Your silence answers him.

“Right, though it is important to be concerned and prepared. Staying here is no prison I can assure you,” his smile brightens up to a chuckle “in fact my original plan was for it to be a holiday for you. The environment is interesting to explore, there is much you can learn from the people here and most of all friends who are willing to show you support which it seems you so desperately need. To me there is no questioning it, staying here is the best course of action for you.”

You could have thought up a retort, some explanation as to why he was wrong and why going back to your ‘normal’ life was better but there is a certain air around Ayato in moments like this where doubting his reasoning is unheard of and denying them is impossible. He was right, he's always right after all.

“Are you sure? Are you sure this is all… this is all okay? Is me being here okay?”

“For further confirmation, yes it is. Thoma?”

Thoma grasped your shoulder again and leaned to your side, a great wave of support rushing from him, “I think it's an awesome plan. You don't have to worry about a thing, we’ll all have it settled for you!”

“Right, could you go make sure their room is properly prepared? I'd imagine they need some rest after all this. A proper, peaceful sleep can do wonders to soothe the soul and you will find no safer place than under my roof. “

Thoma used your shoulder for a moment to get himself back up, “I'll be back in a jiffy okay!” and made a quick pass to the backrooms.

You and Ayato watched him go in silence, when he was out of sight and out of earshot Ayato repositioned himself.

“He does not know about the foreign effect you may have on him. Once again it is only a theory to suggest that just because you and the Traveller are not of Teyvat you have some bewitching effect but there are some elements of truth to such a theory, still I think it is unwise to tell him this. To tell him his feelings are fabricated would break him…” Ayato closed his eyes and sighed, he looked tired, “And it truly would be a shame to name these-those feelings as false.”

That wouldn't be good… “Okay, I won't tell him about it. … …” you really are tired, your mind isnt working as it should anymore. The adrenaline of shock has worn down and the latent feeling of exhaustion had begun to ebb its way through your very bones, at a moment of self reflection you felt your arms so much heavier to hold, legs stiffened all while the dim pain of the wounds across your body became recognisable. A good rest is what you need…

Ayato didn't say a word after, only left you to your own musings.

“It's all set up! There are fresh towels and guest clothes if you want to bathe but otherwise it was all pretty much done!” Thoma did a slight jog to your side and offered you a hand, “You need help getting there?”

You look up at him, for a room rather dim he outshone the very sun itself. “I think I just want to rest for now, i'll bathe later.” You reach up and take his hand, do a little wobble as you reconnect with the notion of having to walk, Thoma readily supplied his elbow for you to hold onto as well as you got your balance.

“Alrighty. Just hold on and don't shy away from leaning your weight on me okay? I've got you.” you two take a few tentative steps to test it out, walking seemed doable now.

“I'll send them off to bed, i'll be back shortly my lord.”

Ayato looked back at you two and gifted a smile, “Rest well then.” you did a slight nod in return.

Even with the support of Thoma and still retaining the ability to walk the short trip down the hall seemed so much more of a struggle then it should have. Not only was your body in dull pain but your mind was simply tired, overrun and everything slowly seemed to mesh into each other. Thoma was true to his word and kept you upright, guiding you to a neatly made bed and gently easing you into the cushioning. After 2 years of a cheap bed and your most recent nap being in the sand and hardwood floor the feeling of high quality bedding was sensational, a moment of respite from feelings and thoughts.

“You all settled in?” Thomas' voice sounded muffled in your half sleep state but you registered him with a nod.

“I'm glad…”

The cushions you lay on shuffled, his weight sat nearby you. “You know you really did scare me there, when I saw- when you were brought here in the state you were I didn't know what to do, something so unlike me. I didn't know if I wanted to rush for medical care or just to slump down beside you and cover you.” He leaned down, his head lay on the mattress beside your shoulder, his one arm wrapped around you, an awkward hug of one person sitting and another laying down. “At least I can do this now, please just let me indulge in this for a little, everything is just a lot to take in still.” He sighed out his tension then shifted his head to lean slightly on yours. “I know this is wrong of me but in truth I can be rather selfish. I want to be selfish here and not only show you how much I care for you but also how much I love you which is wrong because… because I don't love you. It would be insensitive to both you and myself to label this obsessive feeling as ‘love’ and I don't want to do that… Only now, only now will I be a little selfish and join in the delusion that this is love.”

…

“but I want to make this scalding passion of deranged obsession into the soft warmth I know it can be, of genuine endearment and not just an infatuation.”

He lifted himself to finally look at you, he had tears running down his face, “So you can't go. You can't leave me until that happens. You can't leave until I can properly say I love you, okay? I'll be here every step of the way, you can lean on me, you can trust me and I'll give you my everything so please give it your all and just… keep finding the incentive to keep going.” He pursed his lips in a strained attempt of a smile, gave up on trying and instead leant back down to give the crown of your head a kiss. He got up and stood by your side. “Sleep well, I'm sure tomorrow will be the start to a beautiful new future.” He closed the door and left.

If you had been in a more stable sense of mind there was a lot you could have responded to him, the not-so love confession, the odd descriptions of desperation and just how close he got but your mind was fazed, Thoma gave you nothing but comfort as you went to bed, he hugged you and told you it will be okay and that was nice, the feeling of the linin was nice, the chance to close your eyes was nice… He left you off with a nice feeling.

“All is settled then?”

“Yep, they should have no problem falling asleep, they were practically already unconscious once we got there.”

Ayato laughed and Thoma sat back at his original position, by now Ayato had taken out some late night documents to go over while waiting.

“So, did you tell them?”

“Hmm? Which part?”

“haha, your feelings Thoma, knowing you you would have.”

Thoma on reflex scratched the back of his neck and chuckled awkwardly at being so easily caught.

“Yeah I did though with the state they were in they probably didn't hear any of it.”

“Which is why you felt you could tell them hmm?” Ayato looked up to Thoma with a knowing eye, “You are just as bad as me you know.”

“haha, have I been caught? You really can't blame me though, I learnt all my skills from you.”

“And yet at times I wonder if you are even more skilled than I when it comes to swaying one's mind.”

“yeah…” Thoma dulled off, “I'm still confused about it all. I care, that part is undoubted and all the time we spent together really means something but I just can't put my hand on all these feelings. It's not what I think love feels like, not entirely. Haaaa, all I know is that I want to be by them and I guess that will do for now until I figure it all out.” Thoma shifted his weight and got more comfortable, “What about you though? Such feelings are just disruptive to you, right?”

Ayato hummed,”Perhaps but that is nothing I can't deal with and as you can see I am dealing with it. I do hope the notion of sharing isn't distasteful to you, I know we've met a consensus about this but I want to ensure we are on the same page here. Your friendship is much too important to risk over miscommunication.”

“haha of course! Your feelings are just as valid as mine.”

“Good.” Ayato smiled fondly then returned to his papers. Thoma sighed in mock exhaustion, “That's the face you pull when you're thinking about work. Haha, I will leave you to your important papers, do not work too much and fall asleep at your desk again, okay? You don't want to be ruining your back at such a young age.”

“haha. Yes Thoma, good night.”

“Goodnight my lord, just let me know if you need anything done alright!”

“You know I will.”

Ayato shook his head at his friends teasing, it is fun when Thoma is the one responding with tauts of his own. Thoma left Ayato to his business in the slightly dimmed room.

For as much as Thoma has grown around Ayato, for being the closest person to understand him and balance the position of respectful employee and casual friend, it is still funny to Ayato how he can still be so oblivious to things. Of course his mind is not only on work, however could it be when finally you were in his home, in his care and finally he can display his… love.

Rest is crucial for recovery, on any normal day you'd let guilt swallow you for staying in bed for as long as you have this day, waking up in the late morning and simply laying in bed till afternoon, this is peak sloth behaviour but in all you deserve it, you are on ‘holiday’ you are allowed to be a little lazy here. After waking up you had gone through quite a bit of internal conflict, between failing to ‘delete’ yourself of this world, revealing everything, going through the motions and now seemingly stuck here it's all just a lot to process. There is joy brought from the relief that you no longer must carry these burdens but also disgust that you have let the situation get to the state that it is in now. Everythings changed yet at the core nothing has. When your mind tired of thinking it just wallowed in the present feelings, how lovely the bedding is, how scenic the light looks coming from the window, how lovely the atmosphere of the room is, you had been left off with such a lovely feeling last night, odd considering the nature the night took, but for some reason everything just felt so comfortable when you let your mind just dissipated and ease into the surroundings. Eventually you figured you should get up, that there was enough strength in your legs to keep you steady. You got changed into the provided clean clothes and left to find someone to ask about getting something to eat. It's rather awkward walking these halls not knowing where you are meant to be but Thoma and Ayato said you were a guest so it should be fine. You reached the main clearing where Ayato's desk sat, where you three conversed last night, and as if nothing had changed since then Ayato was sat exactly where he had been left off, his eyes scanning papers and writing or editing others, he placed his brush down as you entered.

“Good afrternoon, I hope you were able to sleep well. Shall I arrange for someone to prepare you a meal?”

It's still slightly odd to be casual with Ayato after last night but if this is how things are going to go from now on then you truly do need to get used to it.

“Yes and yes please, thank you.” you gave a slight bow, you can't help being awkward no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise.

Ayato chuckled, of course he did, he saw the world in 4D compared to you, of course he found something funny. “Then please, have a seat. Any meal requirements?”

You word off your response and Ayato relays it to a staff member he calls in. After the order was completed Ayato went back to his work while also starting the conversation, hes easily noticed a pattern when it comes to your reluctance to initiate it in your own stead.

“Now that you have some free time from work, are there any activities you'd like to try? I want you to consider your time here as a holiday and for that I will provide whatever materials you need to make that happen.”

“Oh, no. I'd just like to relax for a bit before making any plans on activities.”

“haha, I meant anything to help with that. Do let me know when you think of anything, there are very few items I cannot provide so the options are yours to demand.”

“mhm…” you nod your head but say little else. Ayato lets this slide and allows you to sit in your peace. In time a well prepared meal is brought to you, you sit to the side of the room and eat with yourself as company, as it has been for the last 2 years. 2… years… Your previous life really is just gone now, everything is gone. You don't have anything, you don't have to do anything, you don't have- no you do have some things. You have a supportive friend, Thoma, you have… Ayato perhaps? He says he will provide for you. What else do you have?

Nothing, you cant even say you have your own life to live, you cant even do that.

Quickly you swallow down both your thoughts and the least of your meal, you've brooded enough today doing it more won't help. You thank the person who takes what remains of your meal and then rejoin Ayato who, much to your surprise, has not left his spot (the surprise being sarcastic since it would shock no one to see the head of a clan swamped in governmental affairs). You walk back up to his table almost as if awaiting orders or just something to tell you what to do, where you should be just anything to help alleviate the concern of not being where you belong. Ayato let his brush lay back on the table, he closed his eyes and sighed as an indulgent smile graced his face. When he looked back up to where you so awkwardly stood he showed only adoration shortly broken as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“This may surprise you, I know this isn't the proper setting to say this,’ he stood up and made his way to you, “but I do so enjoy being unpredictable and I can't pass up on this opportunity.” he stood right in front of you, posture poised and proper but radiating only mischief. “My dear I must confess i've come to love you.”

Huh-

You feel a hand on your cheek. “There it is, what a pretty expression.”

huh…

The hand cups around your flesh, leather to skin, chill to warmth.

“It's true. I do adore you-”

“no…”

“hmm?”

“you can't…”

“haha, really I can-”

“No. You Can't!”

You grit your teeth as you feel your hands begin to shake. He can't, he can't love you, that's too much, too much of an impact. The change, the change that could come from him LOVING you, no its too much. Your hands move to grip the arm reached to you, “you- you can't. You just- that's not how… how any, any of-” you are crying again, surprising how your body still has enough tears to shed after everything. You can't feel your legs anymore, they aren't working again, your hands are shaking, they aren't working again, you can't feel yourself breath, you are not working again. You don't register yourself fall, you only see the rise of doom again. Everything was fine, you had JUST accepted your situation but you can't accept this. This is going to change everything- it's so hard to breathe…

Ayato kneeled down with you, he held his one arm to your waist leaning you into him as his other cradled the back of your head, fingers intertwining between the strands of your hair and stroking along in a calm motion.

“I was scared of this but I felt it best to tell you now. In truth I was devastated with the events of yesterday but held on for as much as I could to secure everyone, it is only fair I am open to you as you were with us.”

no-

“The love I have for you is true and it would be my greatest honour to support you as I do with my clan, with you as a part of the clan.”

no-

“I understand your fears, whatever concerns you have of the future changing. I want you to know I am well resourced to handle them.”

You can only cry.

“It is early for me to confess but it is my sign to you that I hope for a future where we may share such a sentiment. We can grow together and face your fears together.”

why-

His hand strokes feel reassuring…

"Your tears remind me of the rain, both comforting and disturbing. How I cringe at each drop yet yearn to hear them patter against me. My dear please do remember for each storm or drizzle you bring to me I will open my arms for whichever embrace you bring."

You lean back into him, he's got you.

“To know you are here is reassurance enough, I want- I do love you.”

For as comforting as his hold is, for how easy it feels to accept his words it all feels murky. You lay in the sun-touched waters of the ocean, warm as it engulfs you in the most pleasing manner but it is sticky, it clings to you and you cannot shake the feeling of the undercurrent grasping at your ankle slowly leading you deeper into its embrace, it's easier to accept.

Ayato is right, he's always right and here he is offering you his love. You have been given the best opportunity you could ever achieve considering your situation, you have been given the freedom to finally ‘live’. With Thoma supporting you and Ayato willing to address any threat that may come you have been given a beautiful new start at a paranoid free life and not only that but to be graced as to have someone love you as well? It's amazing, you are so lucky.

“That's it my dear, I am here at your side.”

You sink into his arms, your cries can finally stop. “If we believe that tomorrow will come, we can bear a hardship today. For today, tomorrow and everyday that follows you may cry, you may hurt but you will never be alone. Alright? Do not feel pressured by my confession, I merely want to show you that you are loved.”

Ayato sighs deeply and readjusts to hold you tighter, lays his head on yours and remains quiet but the stroking of his hand never stops. The time flows by easily, your arms stop shaking, your breathing returns, you can sense your body's weight so clearly but you can feel the pillar that is Ayato keeping you up.

"Thank you." you mumble eventually

Ayato hums in question

"Thank you for everything. thank you for… loving me"

You can feel the wide smile grace Ayato, “You needn't thank me for something so natural.”

You don't clearly register the world around you while enveloped in Ayato's hold but you can hear footsteps, someone speaking, someone sitting nearby. Ayato's shoulder is cool and refreshing, the hand that holds yours at the side is cosy and tender, you are so lucky.

An explanation blurb for those who want to read some of the reasonings for how i went about this

Header done by me cause i felt like whipping up a quick pixel art

#yahooworks #genshin x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #genshin impact ayato #genshin thoma #yandere male #genshin x reader #yandere thoma x reader #yandere ayato x reader #yandere ayato #yandere thoma #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 4 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.

[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]

MASTERLIST

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“Miles, what would make you hate me?”

The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.

“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”

At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.

“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.

Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.

“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”

“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”

“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”

“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”

“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”

“No!” He rapidly shook his head.

“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”

“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”

“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”

“Well, you got a chance now.”

“How so?”

“You got me.”

You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.

“… I’ve got you?”

Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?

“F’course you do. We’re friends.”

Friends.

“Friends?” Just friends?

Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”

Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.

Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.

“You want some?”

You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.

“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”

Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”

“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”

“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”

“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.

“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.

“You’re welcome, princesa.”

Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?

You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.

Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Sure, whatever.”

That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.

Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.

The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.

Damn the rich, all of them.

Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.

Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.

When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.

He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.

“Did I make ya wait long?”

A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.

“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”

He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”

A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.

“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”

With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?

“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”

And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.

Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.

“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”

“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”

“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”

“How so?”

Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.

“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”

He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.

The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”

“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”

His head turns. “… I see.”

He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.

“.. So can you tell me?”

A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.

“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.

“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”

Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”

“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”

Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.

What would make him any different from the elites?

“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”

He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”

“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”

“Credible name?”

“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”

The boy swallowed.

“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”

And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’

And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.

“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”

The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”

“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”

Without missing a beat, he answered.

“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”

“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“

“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”

“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”

Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”

With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”

Planned? Planned by who?

Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?

“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”

“Then the Aureum building?”

“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”

Miles pondered and pondered.

“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”

“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”

“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”

Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”

“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”

“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”

It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.

“You know any of their names?”

“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”

Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.

Miles swallowed.

It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”

“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”

“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”

“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”

Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.

“She from the finer part of York or what?”

“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”

Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”

“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”

“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.

“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”

Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”

“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”

“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”

Miles didn’t reply.

As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.

“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.

“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”

“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”

“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”

Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.

“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”

.. Miles left seconds after.

It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.

His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.

He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.

But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.

Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?

An illegitimate child. Which one was it?

Your brothers, who had everything?

Or you, who had nothing?

And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.

And you could still taste blood in your mouth.

You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.

The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.

Snap.

ＳＮＡＰ.

The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.

“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.

Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.

“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.

Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.

Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.

“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”

You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”

The lights dawned upon the both of you.

“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.

You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”

Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”

“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”

You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.

“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”

“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”

You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”

You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”

“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”

You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”

“Sure.”

Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.

No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.

But could Miles do it?

Could he actually change you? Humanize you?

Make you kind and loving, and normal?

You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”

“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.

“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”

“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”

You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”

Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”

Oh, so like a normal family?

We were capable of having that this whole time?

…

“[Y/n]?”

You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”

“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”

The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”

Such a romantic.

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”

Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”

“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”

“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”

The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”

Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.

“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”

“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.

Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”

Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”

“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.

A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.

He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.

In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.

Then there was this drumming.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.

You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.

You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.

Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.

Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.

It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.

Really, who are you, [Y/n]?

Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?

And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?

“.. Miles?”

From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.

Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'

Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.

“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”

“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”

His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”

He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.

“.. Nightmare.”

Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.

Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.

“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”

His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.

You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.

You chose him.

But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?

Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.

“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”

“Me duele la cabeza.”

“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”

He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”

“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.

But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?

“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”

Rio sat in silence.

“.. Que?”

Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.

“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“

“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”

“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”

“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”

“Well, ma, it’s just..”

“Did she cheat on you!?”

“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”

“And then?”

“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”

“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”

“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”

“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”

“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”

“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.

“So.. Who’s the girl?”

Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”

“Mhm.”

“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”

“Oh, so she’s an artist?”

Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”

Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.

He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.

But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.

But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.

His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.

“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”

“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”

Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.

“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”

“Oh?”

“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”

“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”

He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.

“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”

“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”

Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.

“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”

Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.

Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.

“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”

The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”

“I can help—“

“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”

“But Ma—“

“Rest.”

And he did.

Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.

her ♡ || two minutes ago.

sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭

remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date

i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad

if you want, we can do it tomorrow.

Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.

So he waited for another five minutes.

.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.

He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.

‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’

“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”

He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.

“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”

‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!

‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’

“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”

It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.

A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.

“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.

He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.

Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.

As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.

He peers through it, before kicking it away.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.

But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.

It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.

Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.

Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.

This belonged to his father’s.

He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.

A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.

Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.

It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.

“Miles, do you want juice?”

“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”

His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.

Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.

There was a USB.

“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”

Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.

As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.

The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.

And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.

Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”

You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”

One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.

Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”

“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”

Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”

You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”

Wait. What? WHAT?

Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?

I’m just as shocked as every other person.

“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”

“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”

“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”

“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”

You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.

A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.

You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.

Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.

The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.

It was your own greed that was worsening you.

Your desire to have a tantamount of power.

But what if you never needed it?

“Miss!”

What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?

“Miss [Y/n]!”

.. But what about Miles?

He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.

“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.

Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.

As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.

“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”

“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”

“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”

You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”

The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.

Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.

“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”

The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.

“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”

“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“

Clack.

You turned your head.

What was that?

ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ　ＨＥＲＥ

No shit.

Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.

Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.

“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.

You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.

“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”

Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.

You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”

“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”

You tilted your head.

“Who would you like me to be?”

His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.

[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]

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