#(who i continue to write getting chewed out truly rip this man)

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Business is Only Theatre

Little Jinx receives an acting lesson.

From 'like leaves of a lotus,' a oneshot following Silco and Jinx on a Topside errand run. Full story on AO3.

They're buzzed through the gates in a flourish of blue light. He taps the corner of his paperwork along the desk, once, twice. Scrapes it away—thinking, thinking—steps echoing over the cold marble. The burly guard seated at the gate's edge doesn't give them a passing glance, tension curling through his shoulders.

They walk on. Their reflection glints in the wide, gold-paned doors of the ground floor elevator bay. She peeks up at him through her hair. "You didn't make an appointment," she whispers, punching her finger into the button.

"The boy didn't know that," Silco whispers back. His eyes are faraway.

The sterility of the building's dry air heightens the sooty-sweet of the Lanes that sticks to his clothes, the hint of cigar smoke that sits beneath it, the lingering touch of his cologne. It's comforting to her, in this awful space. She clings to the familiarity of it, in the whirring of the elevator: in the white of the halls: through each tick-tack of their shoes across too-clean marble. 

They fall still in the threshold of an open door, three rooms down from a sharp corner and a statue depicting the glory of their squashed rebellion—bridge, fire, death, hell—that makes her skin crawl. Inside, a man slumps over a mine of zoning requests in a disorganized room, pen scribbling. It smells of stale cigarettes and antiseptic.

"Marcus." Silco's voice is a satin-cloaked knife.

Their pocketed enforcer flinches; spits, "What—what are you doing here?" with a baffled stare.

Silco steps into the room. Slow, half-minded. She scuttles in behind him.

For a moment, silence clots every breath, sucking out the oxygen by fractions. His fingers tap against the folder of paperwork at his back. "Shut the door, Jinx," he says lowly.

Marcus shoots her a look that stabs with daggered disdain. Any threat in it falls flat. She's faced down too many of those in her short lifetime to care. She glares right back; knocks the door shut behind her with a shove of her foot. 

The clap of its hinges echoes. Another breath. The line of Silco's back is still. The silence of the room changes the air: changes him—and though there is nothing noticeable that shifts in the way he carries himself, his presence plummets, like a toxin slow-released. 

"You're three days late."

Marcus fumbles, splutters. "I've—I had other commitments."

"Other commitments," Silco echoes, mulled over like a twisting dagger. "Interesting." There's resentment, fear, in Marcus's eyes. "I bought you two weeks," Silco rumbles on, stepping closer, and she flattens herself against the door: watches, in morbid fascination, where Marcus leans back in his seat: squeezes his palm around his pen, with a tense breath. "Are you asking for another?"

"No." 

"No?" The repetition boils, like burnt sugar.

Marcus hisses through his teeth. "I'll have it, first thing in the morning."

Silence, for a long moment. She can't imagine what look has passed between them. Something has paled the warmth of Marcus's skin, his eyes frozen upward, a rabbit before a wolf. Silco slips the folder from behind him: tosses it heavily onto the mountain of files already littering the gloss of his desk. "Hudge, Lanceister, and Putnel," he says calmly. "As requested."

Three new-acquired outputs, bought off from the mine operators and a port base down South. She'd seen him pen in profits with enough figures to make her head swim.

A snarl carves minutely through Marcus's mouth, there and gone again. His fingers twist over his pen. His eyes cut up again, a hiss of static.

"First thing in the morning," Silco leaves him with, the water's depths in his voice, "or Sevika will be retrieving it, herself."

The shaky nod given to him is ignored. 

Silco turns, back to her—fire, fury, murder in his eye—to the door she quickly pulls creaking open—and they are leaving, before her mind can catch up with the rush of it. She can't remember which turn they took to find Marcus's office. A pen cracks hard to the floor, somewhere behind them. His hand has found the back of her shoulder: steady, guiding.

The elevator is too quiet. 

She comes back to herself, gradually, with the soft droning of the cables above them. Lifts a quiet glance towards him, swallows. His brow is furrowed: wrath in his tealish eye, where she can catch sight of it, but simmering down, simmering down; the claw-tipped shadow of his wings tucking back into their chrysalis, unseen: the venom on his tongue fading.

It fascinates her, how quickly he can don those pieces of himself, when the time calls for it. Terrifies her. And, in some small way, turns her envious.

(No, you can't control what they think of you. But you can command it.)

She reaches up for his hand, squeezes it slow in her skinny fingers. He squeezes them back, gently.

(Become what they fear.)

She stares hard at the elevator grates as the doors slink open, at the seamless grouting of the marble as they walk the twenty-two steps that stretch between them and the front entry. The guards and attendants leer as they leave.

Outside, back in the blinding winter sun, the bustle of the busy streets, the strangely clean air, she sucks in a breath for the first time. It's as though a stone has lifted from her chest.

They stand in the cool breeze, for a moment. "Are you alright?" he asks quietly.

Her fingers stutter beneath the loose cradle of his own. "I'm—yeah. I'm fine." She frowns. "I'm fine." A million thoughts simmer freely in her, now that they're out of that horrible place—now that she can think. She presses her thumb into his. "How do you do that?"

He seems perplexed, by that. "Do what?"

"I don't know, you—" She waves her hand, the words struggling to come to her. "You just—you change." 

"Ah." He studies the treeline far beyond them: between the towering old buildings, the blue-gray sun. "The world's a stage, little one," he says. "Business is only theatre." He turns a wry glance down at her. "You learn which costumes to put on, over time."

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ broken mirrors﹫jaehyun jung

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f), ft. nct dream and johnny. 

genre : angst, smut, horror-ish, cursed!jaehyun, (kind of bloody mary!au), college!au. 

warnings : jaehyun is meant to be kind of twisted, some toxic and manipulative behaviour from him, black magic, mentions of rituals, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mention of anxiety, voyeurism, choking, guided masturbation, degradation, pet names : doll, darling, kid, reminder jaehyun is an entity from the victorian era, reader is kind of reckless and impulsive. 

word count : 25k exactly. 

synopsis : where your college friends recall a creepy legend known around your university about a man that appears in mirrors and grants you two wishes when summoned. Jisung is dared to say his name three times and see what happens. you at first brush it off as some copy of bloody mary but, when your friend chickens out and swears something happened in that bathroom, you can’t deny the shift in atmosphere everyone felt. once in your dorm, the urge to try it out mixed with fear pushes you over the edge. it’s probably fake anyways, right ? you summon Jung Jaehyun in the middle of the night, on your bed, and he is not what you expected him to be. 

a/n : this was supposed to be a short one shot, lol. reminder this isn’t an all pink story. for the people who’ve read my other stuff, it’s quite different from what i usually write ! also, this isn’t proofread. in case tags don’t work : @nct-writers​ @neowritingsnet​ @thekpopnet​.

“Do you seriously believe in this kind of shit ?” laughs Jeno, a bit too loudly for the other students probably peacefully resting in the dorms right next to his. One hand covers the economics student’s mouth, visibly chewing on some chips and guacamole freshly made for tonight. Jaemin whines at the obvious joke his friend is making him out to be in front of everyone, a pout on his rosy lips. Poor thing, a dusty pink colors his cheeks – noticeable despite the low lighting of Jeno’s room - he looks down at the half empty plate, crumbs of potatoes on the ceramic.

“At least let me tell the story !”, Jaemin argues, slapping the red haired’s hand away. Stealing one of the last larger chips, Jaemin dips it in the smashed avocado. The blonde eats his chip almost aggressively, a victorious noise coming out of his closed mouth when Jeno notices the little amount of guacamole he left for him. 

“We were supposed to watch a scary movie, telling creepy stories’ the next best option.”, you say, leaning back against your friend’s Fatboy. Tonight was yet another one of these half improvised movie nights with your college friends. Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle and Donghyuck were all in your campus, in different courses and yet, you all managed to come together in one tight neck group. Every week, one member of the group would host a little something to celebrate…not dying ? Yeah, something like that.  

Thursday, tonight was obviously Jeno’s turn to hold the gathering, he had proposed a nice horror movie night but, Jisung, a language student, ended up chickening out after hearing the movie’s synopsis. You don’t really blame him, though, the story was meant to keep its viewers up for nights. 

“Jisung’s a pussy !”, Donghyuck teases the young man, a hand ruffling his peach hair to annoy him even more. “I have things to do tomorrow and I need my sleep !”, he defends himself for the nth time tonight, a new argument each time. The other boys aren’t really bothered by the change, movies usually get lost in the group’s banter and casual conversations anyways. You can count on two hands the number of movies you entirely watched with your friends. 

“He’s gonna get scared by some stories, too.”, the brunette continues his teasing like he usually does. Jisung pushes him to the side as an answer, before crossing his arms over his chest. Like everyone else, he’s already wearing his pyjamas, his and everyone else’s dorm room is in the same building and so, everyone could get to their bed in minutes, if not seconds.

“He’s going to knock at your door tonight, Y/N.”, Jeno joins in, all very well knowing that the peach haired’s dorm is right next to yours, seconds away. There’s a snore from Donghyuck, slapping a hand on the wooden table as he adds something to the conversation too, one you don’t catch. “Oh no, don’t. But I can give you a plushie if you’re really scared.”, you join in before immediately wrapping an arm around your friend for comfort.

“’m joking. Come on, what’s your story, Jaemin.”, you hum, letting Jisung lean his head against your shoulder with a whine, pout on his pink lips. 

“Lets do one each, yeah ? I have a story to tell and we’ll see who will really need a plushie.”, taunts the young man at your side, though no one truly believes him at first. Jisung, having scary stories to tell ? Hard to believe. 

“Wait ! We need to get in the mood !”, interjects Jaemin, getting up from his position on the floor. He easily navigates in the room with Jeno, like a third home. The first closes all windows, pushes curtains and turns off any lights to, like he said, get in the creepy mood. 

“H-Hey ! Can we at least keep one on ?”, Chenle joins the peach haired as a laughing point for the other boys, but Jaemin quickly obliges and lets the light of the small bathroom on for his friend, you suspect he didn’t like the complete lack of light either. You can barely see the front door from your spot, the yellowish light easily drowns the group in the storytelling atmosphere and, Jaemin joins the group again. “Wait, one last thing !”, searching for something in a drawer next to his bed, Jeno ends up taking a red candle out with a victorious sound. It hasn’t been touched at all, you inspect it a bit closely when your friend sets it on the wooden table. 

“Got it because of TikTok, it has something in it.”, he mumbles out, running a hand in his dyed hair, almost embarrassed. You wonder again how almost everyone in this group has their hair a different shade of some unnatural colour and yet, dried locks aren’t falling out on the dorm floor - yet. Thumb on his lighter, Jeno tries a few times before he gets a flame steady enough, bringing it to the white thread sticking out of his impulsive purchase.

“There, now we’re in the mood.”, proud of his little setup, the red haired sits down again, a small giggle escaping his lips at Chenle’s frightened look, already sheltering himself with his arms. The candle smells like strawberries, tall flame wavering under your friends’ breaths, the red haired slaps your hand away when you try to dig in the melted wax for the mystery treasure with one of his forks. 

“Now, Jaemin ! Let us hear your story.”, slapping his hands together, Donghyuck leans a bit closer to the center of the table. It is no secret in the group that Donghyuck has a love for scary stories and anything crime related, it seems he has been waiting for this moment. His face gets enlightened by the small candle, a weird angle that changed his features. “Try and scare us.”, the dance student challenged. 

Jisung’s arm wraps and tightens around your own when Jaemin takes the little light in his own hands, bringing the flame under his face. “Alright, do you guys know what’s a…Banshee ?”, his last word comes out as a whisper, letting the last syllable hang in the air for a few. “Oh, no.”, Renjun’s head rolls back, it rests against Jeno’s bed for a bit as he squeezes his eyes shut, whining in almost pain.  “Oh, yes. Renjun knows this story.”, remembers Jaemin, a smile stretching his lips, devilish. Everyone else comes a bit closer to the table, curiosity poked by Renjun’s natural reaction. You’re the only one shaking your head from left to right, but you doubt the others know about what the storyteller’s talking about. 

“A Banshee’s a female spirit whose wailing warns of a death in a house.”, starts Jaemin, hands dancing around the small flame, probably enjoying the heat, drawing slight shadows on the walls. He pays no attention to the small gasp falling from Chenle’s lips, about to continue. “Wow, Wikipedia. Big boy words.”, notifies Jeno, earning a death glare by the narrator. 

“It happened years ago, me and my family were on vacation in Ireland. You guys know, I have some relatives there. It was for a wedding, so all my cousins and I were staying at my Uncle’s house.”, finally starts Jaemin, voice a lot quieter. The young medicine student easily gets the entire group captivated with his words and aura. Even Renjun who already knows this story, even Jisung who usually, does not like scary tales. It is clear the intimate aspect of a story lived by a friend helps a lot, it isn’t anything mainstream or heard before, it adds to the mystery. For the next minutes, the young man tells his story with as much seriousness as he can, keeping the candle right under his face.  

“We were all around the ages of ten and thirteen, my Uncle’s house was deep in the Irish country side. I remember that parents would all sleep on the first floor and let us have the second for big sleepovers. So, my cousins and I would stay late and watch horror movies. I mean, you let kids alone, obviously they’re going to stay up late, right ?” Haechan only agrees while Jisung lets about a “this isn’t starting very well.”, eyebrows furrowed, cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “But eventually, my Uncle would come up and switch off the TV. You guys don’t know him but he’s...Special. He wouldn’t walk us to bed right away, he’d tell us about Banshees. Irish spirits, he’d describe them to us. A fragile, old woman with ripped clothes. Black hair down to her feet, sickly white skin and a veil over her red, bloody eyes.�� Jaemin lets the description sink in, your face contours at the thought, you don’t have to look at Jisung to know he has the same expression on his. Donghyuck, him, is smiling a bit too much, leaning closer to the narrator for more. Jeno is strangely afraid too, towing with a loose thread sticking out of his blanket.  “Her screams have one meaning. Someone is going to die.”, Jaemin dramatically lets out the last word, keeping a straight, serious face even when Donghyuck cooes. “I hate this.”, you mumble out, to which Jisung agrees. “My Uncle would tell us about how clocks would stop, all of a sudden, fall off walls and crash on the floor before hearing a Banshee. Lights would turn on and off, flicker, doors would fly open without a breeze and slap against the walls. Paintings and pictures would fall down. He’d describe the keening as high pitch sounds, it’d pierce your soul and make every hair on your body stand.” Another pause, it’s clear Jaemin already told this story. There, he mimics the sound of a keening Banshee. And, if you think he’d sound silly, he does. High pitched is not a sound your friend can achieve and, it takes a few laughs here and there. Chenle visibly relaxes, back leaning away from the Fatboy. “He’d then walk us to bed after his Banshee story and we’d stay awake out of fear, you know. Just staring outside the windows, at the dark, Irish country side. Pitch black, no lights, tall - tall trees. It was during the winter, a wedding in the snow. And so, his big garden would be fogged up. A dense, white fog, we could barely see anything.”

The small flame grows taller, it wavers again under Jaemin’s words, light dancing on the red haired’s table. “One night, after my Uncle walked us to bed, me and my cousins were looking outside when we saw it.” Jisung shivers next to you without even hearing the rest, you almost giggle at his reaction. Both the narrator’s palms softly hit the table before he continues. A sound leaves his lips, like the image his memory is forming in front of his eyelids is enough to scare him. “We saw one.”, Jaemin finally announces. 

In another situation, Donghyuck would be the first one to deny or refute Jaemin’s words. No you didn’t, you almost say but, your lips part for a second, without a sound. Hyper focusing on your friend, you can’t deny the slight shiver that runs down your spine when he continues. “Red, glowy eyes. Right under a tree. She was wearing a white dress and just like Uncle said. She was taller than Uncle described, she could probably easily touch the tall branches of the trees. Skinny, lanky body, we couldn’t see if she had a veil or if it was ripped.” There’s a pause again, Jaemin looks at the clock right behind you and you can not help it, you turn around just in case. “The clock stopped.” Fortunately, he isn’t talking about Jeno’s. 

“No.”, the red haired whispers out but, Jaemin does not even look at him, continuing his story. 

“She wasn’t moving, just standing...there. White dress, black hair. We couldn’t see exactly where she was looking at but it was clear she was staring at our house. And then…”, for a second time, the young man mimics a Banshee’s scream but, it’s too good this time. It’s quiet enough that he does not bother Jeno’s neighbors, but high pitched and blood drenching. The quiet scream is drawn out, Jaemin leans on his palms and elevates himself before he’s out of breath, stopping abruptly. “Dude.”, you whisper out, getting a look from Jisung.  

“And then. She disappeared. We saw her walking between the house and my Uncle’s neighbor’s house. It was so weird, she wasn’t slow, she was walking quickly, so quickly. But it was like her knees weren’t in place, her legs would twitch to the side every now and then.”, Jaemin sits down again, looking at each of his friends in the eyes. You didn’t know he was this good at storytelling, you have to keep yourself from picturing this tall, lanky woman quickly walking in the dark. “We locked all the doors, closed all the windows. We were so scared, we would look at each other like…‘who’s going to die tonight ?’”

“Shut it, no one died.”, the red haired lets out, sentence rushed. But, Renjun finally speaks up, throwing a balled up tissue at your friend, one he cannot dodge, getting hit right on his forehead. “Sht and listen.” 

“We did not sleep at all that night and…”, you almost hit the medicine student at the nth pause, you can’t deny the fact that he has you at the edge of your metaphorical seat. “The next morning, my Uncle found our neighbour. Dead.” 

There’s a gasp from everyone, your eyebrow’s and Donghyuck’s raise up and before you can speak up, Renjun whispers at you to just “wait for the next part.” You hear one of your friends babbling about how it’s all bullshit, but Jaemin never leaves his narrator persona. “We told my Uncle about the Banshee, he had heard it too and since nothing happened to us or our parents, he went to his neighbors’ house. Both really believed in these kind of things, these Irish legends. He was found in his little sofa, turned towards his window. He didn’t have any heart problems but apparently, his heart stopped during the night. My dad told me a bit more two years ago, he was found with his eyes...Wide open.”

The moment Jaemin finishes his little story, questions fly from each side of the table and your friend answers quickly, like he was ready for each one of them. “You can call my mom and ask her about it if you want to, Donghyuck.”, the confidence the medicine student has in his story is enough for the brunette. A nice story to start on, you all note, but the neighbor’s death was probably a weird coincidence, right ? At the very least, that’s what you’d like to think. Finally, when everyone calmed down from Jaemin’s story, he pushed the candle towards Jisung. “Your turn, you said you had a story to tell.” 

Your friend nods quickly, hands resting on the pyramide shape of the candle, frowning at the layer of wax it leaves on his palms. A little pool of melting wax is forming at the top and you wonder for a moment if it’s not going to spill on the table. Everyone’s attention turns towards the new narrator, Jaemin finding a new comfortable position on the floor. “Alright, uh. I don’t have the same storytelling skills as Jaemin and it isn’t the same type of story. You guys know Eric, right ?”, he starts, receiving some hums from Jeno and Jaemin. 

“Eric the Eerie ?”, you ask, almost in disbelief at the mention. At the nickname, Donghyuck almost bursts out laughing, leaning his forehead against Jeno’s table and Renjun pouts a bit at the lack of seriousness his story is already receiving. “Yes, him. The old Litterature student.”, affirms Renjun. You remember the guy, tall and lanky, legend has it that he suddenly went from the bottom of his class to the very top almost overnight, collecting amazing grades after amazing grades. No one knew how he did it. Plus, he was a bit weird. It might seem a bit mean but, his appearance didn’t help and, he would not talk to anyone either, he avoided big bodies of water and mirrors, you doubt he had any friend here, too. He’d apparently sit in the back of his class and, when he graduated, he took his diploma first and left. Nowhere to be seen now. 

“Didn’t he graduate last year ?”, Jaemin asks, grabbing a bottle of juice from the side. Even in the dark, he is able to pour himself a glass full without spilling it everywhere.

“He did, yeah. Did you guys hear about the legend ? The one around how he got his grades up ?”, there’s a sound coming from your mouth, half confused and half intrigued. “Uh ?” Jaemin hums loudly, the sound resonates between the walls of his glass as his eyes blow wide for a second. “The Yoonoh thing ? I heard about that but not in details.” Apparently, Jaemin isn’t the only one who recalls the name. It is one you and all your friends have heard before, right when you entered your university. It wasn’t mentioned in the flyers or, by the teachers, even. It was first brought up during a party hosted by older students, one where they all told you about the campus’ legends and stories. 

“His name’s written all over the walls of the old building. Also, it’s in the main building’s restroom, I think.”, Renjun informs and your memory clicks. Your university has many buildings but, one of them, a bit further away from the campus, is abandoned. It has been for years now but you and your friends decided to visit it out of curiosity during your first year, a bit after the party. You could say it was pretty underwhelming, nothing too special if it wasn’t for old structures and dirty floors. Empty classes and weird smells, like any other abandoned places, you could say. You remember the same name being written over and over again on the walls, the desks, some mirrors. Younger you thought it was only a weird legend older students used to scare the new ones.

“Oh, right. What about it ?”, Jeno asks, eyebrows raising a bit at the new storyteller. 

“Do you guys remember the legend ?”, you nod again and, help your other friends remember the old tale. Once upon a time, a man cursed, cursed in mirrors forever. Able to travel from room to room, forced to appear whenever properly summoned by someone. How did he end up with such a faith ? You do not know or, maybe you don’t remember what your older friends told you. Yoonoh was - or is -, his name. Much like Bloody Mary, call his name three times and he’ll eat your reflection, take your place in your mirror and offer you two wishes. Two and not three, the last one he keeps to himself, he’ll ask for something in return. The rest of the story is quite blurry, it changed from course to course. Some people said he’d trap people in mirrors, other that he was a creepy, demonic looking creature asking for quite gory things. You had to say, when the story was told the night of the party, you got a bit creeped out but, you forgot about it since. 

“Apparently, Eric summoned him. Midway through the school year, he summoned him in his bedroom and used one of his two wishes for better grades. The first wish was granted but, Yoonoh wanted Eric to sacrifice a friend to him. No one knows if he managed to do it or not, apparently he didn’t use his second wish and since, Yoonoh follows him everywhere he goes.”, Renjun dramatically says but, the effect isn’t one he anticipated for his little story. There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, quickly followed by Jeno. “C’mon dude, we wanted a scary story.”, interjects the medicine student and, you only hide your chuckle by drinking your juice. Poor Renjun pouts, trying to regain the attention of his friends. “Wait, listen ! Doesn't it make sense ? Like...Like, I see it happening.”, big pearly eyes find Jisung for some support, but his friend only looks away to hide his smile too. 

“That story’s bullshit, I thought you knew.”, Jaemin finally says, sighing a little. 

“But the grades going up ? How he’d dodge mirrors like the plague ? He even took the mirror from his bathroom and bedroom out.”, Renjun argues, leaning a bit too closely to the small flame. You wonder for a moment who exactly, decided to take advantage of your gullible friend. “It’s fake.”, Jisung says again, mimicking your friend. He gets a death glare from the fallen storyteller who didn’t have the throne for too long, pushing the candle to the center of the table.

“Alright…”, he starts, palms flat on the flat surface. Renjun plants his eyes into Jisung’s, small smile tugging at his lips at the thought crossing his mind. “I dare you to summon him.”

Oh, your friends still act like teenage boys. You don’t blame them, quite the contrary, you join them when they almost scream at the challenge thrown out. Everyone knows Jisung never turns a dare down, it probably has to do with his pride. But tonight, tonight might be the first time he does. Eyes scanning everyone, Jisung takes a bit too long to answer. There’s a bunch of “do it”’s from around the table, Jeno and Jaemin weirdly dancing to the beat of your words. 

“Yoonoh ? Dude…”, eyes blown wide, he looks around at the uproar the narrator created, almost sending daggers. “I thought it was bullshit ?”, sarcastically asks Renjun, propping his chin on his hand, still on the table. Donghyuck calls him a chicken after some seconds of thinking and, this does it for Jisung’s pride and ego. 

“He’s gonna do it !”, Jeno chokes out, hands thrown in the air in victory. The medicine student at his side takes the lit candle in his palms and offers it to Jisung once he finally stands up with an audible sigh, head low like a knight in front of a Queen. “It’s...fake anyways.”, he reassures himself alone, brushing his pyjamas. Slowly walking towards the dimly lit bathroom, Jisung quickly looks behind him to see if anyone stops him. Clearly, no one does. 

“Do you remember how to do it ?”, Renjun asks, not even hiding his smile at Jisung’s obvious lack of confidence, a first. Shaking his head from left to right, Renjun quickly writes it down on a piece of paper, himself not daring saying it out loud. Standing up like the rest of your group, you look over your friend’s shoulder. He’s writing a few sentences down by memory, sentences you remember from the first university party. 

“Mirror, mirror, mirror. Take my reflection as home. Show me my deepest, darkest desires. Give to me, take from me. Yoonoh, Yoonoh, Y…” 

“I didn’t want to write his name three times.”, Renjun mumbles out, handing the small piece of paper to your friend, waiting in front of the bathroom door. You audibly laugh at his confession, poking Donghyuck with your elbow to react his words. “And I am the chicken ?”, Jisung asks a bit too offended, to which Jeno only pushes him inside the room. “I never said I wasn’t !” 

Jeno tries to close the door behind him as quickly as possible but, Jisung is quicker and blocks the attempt with an arm, frightened look flashing in his eyes for a second, he already hates this. His mouth falls open the moment you turn the light off, only lit by the small candle and Jaemin’s phone’s light. “Do I have to ?”, he whines, quickly looking behind him. All the dorms have the same bathroom, small and packed, it seems Jisung never saw his bathroom in the dark or maybe, the candle lit adds to the creepiness. “Yes, you have to !”, it’s almost a harmony between you and Chenle and, with Jaemin’s help, the door gets closed and traps Jisung in the small room. Poor thing, you hear him let a whine out while your friends giggle, tapping on the door. 

“C’mon, Jisung.”, Jaemin pushes him on and, you hear him mumble something on the other side. Finally, silence. Jisung probably sets the candle down, whines again about how he can’t read your friend’s handwriting. After a few minutes, he mumbles a few things again, voice audibly shaky. Jeno lets his nails travel down the painted wood of his door and, the poor thing reacts, loudly tapping the door. 

“Is he doing it ?”, you ask quietly, ear to the door. “I think ?”, Donghyuck can only guess before he gestures to his friends to back away and stay silent. In Jeno’s dorm, badly lit, all packed in front of his door, you think it’s all fun and games. Finally, you hear Jisung say the first words with an ounce of confidence, clearing his throat every now and then, mirror, mirror, mirror. Your eyes grow wide, palms slightly sweaty, you have to rub them against your pyjama pants and crouch a bit down. He reads almost like a robot, a monotone voice he uses to add some humor in all of it, act nonchalant when you’re pretty sure he’s shitting himself in there. However, when you hear the second to last sentence, your blood rushes through your veins, he sounds different, like he’s finally taking it all seriously. It’s weird, your brain is convinced nothing is going to happen and yet, your heart races for him and the possibilities of what can happen between these four walls. You were never the one to believe in such things but, the adrenaline and thrill always got to you, always managed to scare you a bit and keep you up at night. It seems the situation does the same to your friends. Quickly, flashlights join Jaemin’s, you even see Chenle biting down on his lower lip, backing a bit away. At this very moment, you don’t know it yet but, your friend has a weird feeling greeting up his chest. Yoonoh, you hear him say his name once, you fake not feeling the air grow colder around you, goosebumps rising on your nakes arms, it’s probably the open wind-. You remember Jaemin closing every window before starting his story. A second time, Jisung sounds breathless, hesitant to let the word out, even. You almost open the door to let him out but you’re stuck there, unable to move anything but your eyes. Stuck in place, it seems like long minutes go by between your friend’s words. Quickly, you look over at the clock hung up on Jeno’s wall, the very one you thought would fall down during the medicine student’s story and...Is it...Slowing down ? Say it a third time and get out of here, you think to yourself, suddenly feeling sweat gathering on your body. Hairline, back, you fan yourself with your hand but nothing changes. It sounds like he tries to, syllable forming on his lips but nothing more gets out. He tries once, and never finishes. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine, you instinctively glare at Jaemin who stares at the plain door almost too intensively, you see his Adam’s Apple difficulty move up, and down, like he himself, feels the weird shift in atmosphere. When did this dumb dare turn so serious ? Something isn’t right, you don’t dare mention it at that moment, you don’t think you need to anyways. He isn’t able to let the last word out, silence on the other side, you almost think he’s pulling a prank on you before you hear it. You all hear a commotion, you hear Jisung thumble backwards and crash into one of Jeno’s furniture. 

“What the fu-.”, before Donghyuck can even finish his sentence, the door abruptly opens, forcing everyone away from the entrance, your back crashes into Jeno’s chest who stood right behind you. A scared Jisung tumbles out the small room, almost running as fast as possible before letting his body fall on one of the Fatboys with a sound. 

“Dude, what the fuck ?”, Jeno asks, half terrified and half amused, he doesn’t know what to feel yet. Jisung barely answers, he wonders for a moment if his friends won’t make fun of him for what’s going on in his mind. “Something touched me. Something touched me in there.”, he chokes out, breathing chopped. You know, you know Donghyuck is about to make fun of him before he walks towards the man, taken back by the genuinely afraid look he has on his face. “Wha- ? Are you okay ?”, he asks, palm resting on his friend’s upper arm in an attempt to calm him down. 

Your attention gets grabbed by the still open door, you wouldn’t dare say it out loud but, there’s something strange about it. Pulled towards it, your eyes leave your visibly and audibly afraid friend for the dark place. You almost fear going inside and, you only look up at the dark room without entering, something in your body tells you not to. Staying right in front, it’s like you feel the shift in temperature between the living room and bathroom. Why does the bathroom look so...dark ? You barely register it, how the flashlights of your friends’ phones get absorbed by the darkness inside the smaller room, only lit by the small candle. It’s probably your brain, you think to yourself. A brain can do weird things to itself, it can imagine, create but, you’re sure you’re not hallucinating when you see the candle’s flame growing taller, wavering violently before eventually, getting blown. No wind, nothing, the pale trail of grey smoke flies straight upwards and you quickly back away, closing the door behind you in hopes of ending anything that went on in there. 

“Here, here. Look !”, in the meantime, your entire group had gathered around Jisung, amused looks turned into worried ones at his twisted body on the coach. Jisung pulls his short sleeve up and, under Chenle’s flashlight, you think you might hallucinate again. Milky skin glows under the living room’s artificial light when Jaemin turns it on, it contrasts deeply with his epiderme but your brain would rather make anything up than believe your eyes. A light pink, slowly growing a deeper shade of red, five fingerprints around your friend’s arm mark his skin. 

It’s almost two in the morning when your phone rings to the tune of a few texts, screen lightening with a notification from your beloved friend group chat. Body and mind trying its best to rest on your small bed, your eyes travel from your thin, white ceiling to your phone when you bring it up to your face, risking it falling straight on your nose. You quickly swipe a finger on the object and read the last text Jeno sent, something about wanting Jisung to take a shower and rest for the night, quickly followed by your other friends’ words. 

There’s a sigh tumbling from your lips, the slight headache taking place right on your temples makes you want to bury your face right under your pillow but your small dorm is hot, way too hot for that. Window wide open, there isn’t an ounce of wind entering your room. You hate the feeling of sweat growing on your forehead, on your back, fabric sticking to your skin just like it did in front of Jeno’s bathroom. You feel drained, so, so drained. It is something you’re used to, especially after a full week of classes and a night with your friend but tonight, something feels different. There’s something off about your room, it doesn’t feel the same. You aren’t being watched, you know that, but you sure feel like it. Oppressed, stuck in such a small space, you’ve been rolling around your bed for minutes now, unable to sleep. After what happened in Jeno’s own dorm, natural instincts kicked in. All tried to find an excuse for what happened to Jisung, saying maybe your friend got the marks from bumping into the furniture, maybe he got these before even entering the room. Poor thing decided to let himself be convinced by the hypothesis thrown at him but, you couldn’t really understand everything else. The change in temperature, the lack of light, the candle blowing itself out, you can’t find a single excuse except maybe, just maybe, your mind’s playing tricks on you. 

Your thumbs quickly work to type a message for your friend before you drop your device on your bed. Overthinking, that probably is what’s keeping you from falling asleep. It’s crazy, the number of videos around paranormal things you and Donghyuck watched together and yet, you two didn’t think about the rules before starting this stupid dare. Beating yourself up for not taking it seriously, you now remember how you’re supposed to say goodbye whenever starting a seance of Ouija. How you should not disrespect entities, know and do everything by the rules. You almost text Donghyuck about it but, you fear sounding too crazy. 

Instead of Donghyuck, you text Johnny. It’s the urge of knowing more, the curiosity growing in your belly that you did not expect. The tall man’s one of the older students who told you about Yoonoh’s legend during the first party, he studies psychology in your building and you two became quite good friends after a while. He would help little you with administration but also, showed you some spots you still go to, to this day. Good friends, so much so you know he isn’t sleeping at such an hour. And, you don’t feel too guilty when you text him about the legend, almost completely out of the blue. Needless to say, the brunette was a bit taken back by the question. You saw it through his texts, but he quickly told you about all the things he knew and heard around the university legend. The same sentences your friend wrote on a piece of paper, the same Jisung was close to saying fully. A candle, like Jeno unknowingly provided and the young man took to the bathroom. But, there was one thing missing, or rather, two. The one who summons Yoonoh shall write their name on the mirror, clearly and without a mistake. Second, both palms have to be placed on the mirror. Flat, you don’t think you’re allowed to move them while reciting what you’d call a spell, much like on a Ouija board. All the things missing and yet, you still felt a slight shift in Jeno’s dorm, didn’t you ? 

Turning your phone off once you wishing Johnny a good night, you find yourself turning the device on again, seconds after. Scrolling through your Twitter timeline and switching between the same two applications doesn’t help at all. Push it away, that feeling of being watched comes back like a bull. You hate it, so much. It’s just like the aftermath of watching a scary movie, you reassure yourself. Like that one time you watched Annabelle and slept with all your plushies outside your bedroom with the light open, right ? Sitting up on your bed, you almost feel ashamed when you turn your light on, quickly looking around your small dorm. Nothing’s there, nothing’s there. The slight fear adds to the sweat collecting on your skin, you feel too hot and yet, a cold shiver runs down your spine when your back meets your headboard. “It’s just a legend.”, you tell yourself out loud. One time, two times. Bringing your knees to your chest, your hands quickly grab at the thin sheet before you pull it towards your body, as if it’ll shelter you from anything paranormal. It’s just a legend, you tell yourself again when your eyes meet your reflection. What a stupid idea, having such a big mirror right in front of your bed. It takes all of your wardrobe, you remember loving it when you first moved in, taking advantage of the size for pictures. But now, it only added to your fear. You don’t know where to look, eyes traveling from your own body to the sides of your bed, the corners of your room. At least, nothing can hide in here, you think you’d see it immediately. 

Your father would probably laugh at your face if he saw you right now. See, if your mother might believe in anything paranormal, your father never did and never will. He’d always find a scientific reason for anything weird happening in your house, reassuring you as best as he could. If he was here, what would he say, what would he do ? You ask yourself for a minute, keeping your knees close to your body. 

He’d try it, see for himself and prove that the legend was all bullshit. 

Calling him at such an hour wasn’t even an option, could you do it yourself ? You wonder, eyes glued on the mirror. You can not deny the slight curiosity rising in your chest, building up in your body. It’s weird, a morbid interest that has been sitting with you since Jisung ran out of the bathroom, since you saw the candle blow out by itself. Curious and adventurous, you always thought you were and, wouldn’t trying it help you prove the invalidity of the legend ? 

Legs fall back on the bed, you barely can believe yourself when you stand up on your knees, sinking into your mattress. “Do it and go to bed, surely nothing will happen.”, you coach your reflection. You think it’s a mix of fear, pure curiosity and fatigue. Your body craves sleep and, in your half asleep state of mind, you take advantage of your boost of confidence, pushing away the paranoiac side of your brain. If it was real, more people would talk about it. If it was real, where are all the pictures and videos ? Clumsily stepping out of your bed, your feet touch the cold floor as you drag your body towards your makeup bag, blindly dipping a hand in. An old lipstick would do, right ? Right, you don’t even remember the last time you used this Sephora lipstick. The small candle you probably used twice in your life finds another use tonight as you grab it from your shelf, opening the small lid to clean the small bits of burnt thread. 

A few steps is all you need before you stand in front of your mirror, letting your body rest from the little effort you did when you sit down right in front of it. It’s stupid, so so stupid, you think to yourself. Nothing will happen and you’ll tell this very story to your friends the next day, they’ll make fun of you for it for the next week and all will be good. 

Taking the protection of your old lipstick off, you inspect it with a pout. A shame, such a pretty color you never really wore before the expiration date. The deep red stick comes up when you twist the bottom and you have to resist the urge of trying it on your lips, just to see. Rather, just like Johnny said, you write your name on the mirror. The paste easily leaves a red trace under the pressure of your fingers, it’s almost pleasing if you did not know how long you’ll take to clean it off after. Long sticks, you write your name clearly on the mirror before closing your old lipstick, leaving it at your side. Next, your fingers fumble inside your bag, trying to find your lighter. It’s one you rarely use but keep with you just in case and you quickly turn it on. The small flame dances under your mouvements, bringing the cold candle near your lighter. It quickly starts burning in your hands and you place the object right between your body and the mirror. There’s a sigh from your lips, you can’t believe it yourself when you lean forward, both palms flat on the cold surface. Above your name in red lipstick, you dare look at yourself. Actually, if you look at yourself, your attention won’t drift for the back of your bedroom in fear. And so, keeping your eyes on your reflection’s, you take a deep breath. 

“Mirror, mirror, mirror.” you start off pretty easily, the one word rolling off your tongue without a second thought. Now that you’ve started it, you don’t think you can end everything just like that, you learned everything needs to be closed once started. “Take-...Take my reflection as home.”, you stutter, vision getting blurry for the quickest second. Probably the lack of sleep and fatigue, some water coats your eyes and you blink the teardrops away, finding a clear vision again. You sigh out for a second in an attempt to cool your body down, the same feeling slowly plunges on your shoulders. The one you felt while Jisung was doing the same thing but, this time, you were alone. The change in atmosphere is less abrupt but, you still feel it anyways. The air grows hotter, heavier, dense. 

“Show me my deepest, darkest desires.”, you choke out, feeling your palms sweat up, trying your best to resist the urge to whip them. You shift uncomfortably on your spot, pushing away the goosebumps raising on your naked arms again. Wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible, you push all the signs away and continue, though your confidence runs out quickly. “Give to me, take from me.” The small candle flame flickers, it grows taller and, you have to push it away with a knee to prevent it from burning your clothes. Maybe it’s the open window, right ? But here it is again, the feeling of being watched. You hate it, you almost turn around or just, look behind you through the mirror. Instead, a groan escapes your lips, frustrated at yourself, tired, annoyed, scared.

It seems the two sides of your brain disappeared, your thoughts are radio silent, white noise. Fuck it, fuck it. Panic takes over your next actions, it pushes you over the edge. Closing your eyes, your head hangs low and you say the last words. “Yoonoh.”, you start, closing your eyes even more, forcing your eyelids. You feel it, the sudden presence right behind you, you fucking feel it. Your heart picks up right them, you never felt it pump so quickly against your ribcage. Heat burns your cheeks, your ears, your back. Unconsciously, your head hangs lower, shoulders rise up in a protective, natural reaction. 

It truly feels like someone’s right here, with you and yet, you refuse to look. What the fuck are you doing, why the fuck are you doing this ? A hiccup, the outline of a cry tumbles from your lips. Ah, how the fear managed to wash over you like the rising tide eating at the shore. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. Teeth tight against each other, your jaw grows sore as you feel the heat of the small candle at your side. Letting your eyes flutter open the slightest bit, it’s when you see the flame violently dance, shaking from different sides that you decide it has to be over, now. 

“Yoono- Yoonoh, Yoonoh.”, you blur them out so quickly it’d be funny in another situation, the sounds are barely separated from each other, barely make sense. Your tongue feels heavy, mouth clumsy when you finish the spell of. Your irregular, hard breathing almost keeps you from hearing. Hearing it. 

Ah, how long Jaehyun - or Yoonoh - waited and longed for such a moment. Actual hours that felt like years for one of you to summon him properly. And, he has to say, he’s glad you were the one to do it, call him over with your pretty voice, fearful eyes and deadly curiosity. He felt it, the morbid interest peeking in your small body, he knew you would do it the moment you noticed the candle blowing out, he knew you weren’t dumb. See, when Jisung had attempted to summon him, he had almost brought Jaehyun to his mirror, he almost did it. He was so close, so close to it that Jaehyun managed to have a blurry view of the odd scene. Needless to say, the cursed had a good laugh at it but, the anger and frustration he felt at your chicken of a friend still lingered. When was the last time someone summoned him ? Jaehyun does not remember, he doesn’t have any notion of time, he lost it long, long ago. When was the last time he had fun with a foolish human ? He does not remember either but, something tells him he will make it up with you. Jaehyun isn’t alive but, the closest of “alive” he can feel, it’s in moments like this, properly summoned, ready for his deal. Eating your reflection, taking its place easily, the young looking man takes your bedroom in for a second, it’s all in reversed for him who’s stuck in your mirror. Speaking of, he likes it. Big, tall, he notices your name neatly written in what he guesses is red lipstick. Taking your reflection’s place, both his hands lay flat against your palms, kneeled down, he’s significantly taller than you but still, he notices the contourcion in your features, the fear. He loves it, he loves oh so much. The fear, the regret, he adores it all. He knows it’ll be even better once you open your eyes and understand your faith. Mirroring your position, the man doesn’t move, he loves the proximity, how close your face is to his. Wicked smile on his rosy lips, it tugs up at a side, pearly white canine showing, the tip of his tongue rests on the sharp tooth. Oh, he’ll eat you up and savour it just like he did with your reflection.

“Hi, Y/N.”

The reactions, Jaehyun thrives off the reactions. The fear in people’s eyes, the tears, the cries, the shouts, the realisation flashing, twisting people’s features, he fucking gets off of it. He knows what to expect and yet, when you finally open your eyes, barely take in his face and jump back immediately, he chuckles out, he groans happily, excited even. You barely believe it, a man replaces your reflection, he doesn’t follow your movements when you tumble backwards and feel your spine hit your bed, the scream you were about to let out getting knocked out of your lungs. Instead, it’s a loud whine you let out. What the fuck, the actual fuck. Both your hands cover your mouth, Jaehyun notices how shaky they are and cooes, head tilting to the side. What a pretty toy to play with. A knee down, the other leg bent against his chest, the man in the mirror lets his head rest there, patiently waiting for you to finally speak up. Strangely, he’s a patient man, he had some people run away on him, not speak for hours at the shock, even. You think you’re hallucinating, you almost pinch yourself but you know, you’d be awake if this was a dream. The impact of your bed against your back tells you that this, this is real. As much as your brain hates to believe it, takes minutes to process it and still has its doubts, you react just in case. You react out of pure instinct. The bag you use everyday gets pulled next to you and you quickly push a hand inside, looking for one thing only. A young college student needs to protect itself when walking home from late classes, the butterfly knife you wished you’d never have to use finds your fingertips and, when you feel the cold metal, you pull it out. 

“Ah-a. Don’t make me mad so quickly, doll.”, the man in your mirror sings, nickname rolling out of his tongue. You think you’re going to throw up, the ball in your throat keeps you from speaking but you don’t let his words scare you. In a swift motion, you open the object and let the blade stand straight towards your mirror. You try, you try your best to seem less afraid, but you’re sure you look foolish to him. And it sure does. A sigh tumbles from the man’s lips, a hand running in his dark brown locks. Thoughts clash and collide in your dizzy, clouded brain but still. He looks...normal almost, if it isn’t for the twisted grin on his lips, the lack of light in his dark eyes.  

“Your little knife won’t hurt me.”, he informs you, a small pout on his lips. He stays there, still patiently waiting for you to say something. Though he likes peoples’ reactions, he likes it even better when he hears about their darkest desires, the things that pushed them over the edge, things they graved to the point of summoning him, an entity many deem as fake, a legend. A hand on your floor, you support yourself with it, fearing your body giving out even if you’re already down. Mouth dry, you swallow harshly before finding your tongue again. “What if I break the mirror.” 

It’s a threat but oh, it sounds so sweet to the young man. You’re a courageous one, and fierce at that, Jaehyun can already tell and he loves it. Truly, he can not wait ; to break you down little by little, see that same fierceness in your pupils slowly disappear for obedience. There’s a small laugh tumbling from his lips again, cheek rubbing against his knee. “Ouh, she speaks.” Leaning a bit closer to the mirror, the man hums a little, eyes on the sharp blade. “Break it, it won’t do anything to me. Except make me mad.” 

For some reason, you believe him. Maybe it’s the daring look he gives you, silently wondering if you’ll have the guts to come closer to him. Clearly, you don’t, staying as far as your bed allows you. Your heart’s still beating too fast against your ribcage, breathing unevenly and you try to focus on your rhythm instead of the man right in front of you. “Come on. Deep breathes, kid.”

There’s something that clicks in your brain at this very moment, your throat seems to unravel and words flow out of your lips, avoiding what a side of your brain still thinks is an illusion. “I- We thought this was a legend, we thought it was fake.”, voice small, you fumble around, hands on your sheet before you find your phone. 

“‘it’ and ‘this” has a name.”, the man sternly says, eyes following your mouvements. As said, he saw it all before, the startled look in your eyes when your device went dead in your hand was one he enjoyed a bit too much. “It won’t work.”, he notes in a hum. 

“Y-Yoonoh ?”, you hate how it’s a question tumbling from your lips, half hoping one of your friend’s going to erupt out of your closet with a camera. There’s a disappointed sound from him, thumb running on his pink bottom lip, locks falling in front of his eyes. “Haven’t used that name in years. Please, darling. Call me Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun, the sound rings in your ears. Eyes wide, you clench your dead phone around your fingers. “You’re real.” 

“As much as you are.”, he’s amused to say the least, lips stretching at a corner. There, he decided to get up, taking advantage of your tall mirror. It’s weird, how he isn’t wearing anything old, dirty, anything you’d think an entity would wear. A black blouse loose on his shoulders, he rolls the fabric to his elbows, what you think are black costume pants on his legs, his shoes you cannot see with the dark fog dancing around him. 

“You look...Normal.”, you dumbly let out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. With other clothes, he’d easily pass as another boy in your campus. Then, he chuckles, you’re cute. It resonates in your small room, a deep dimple craved on each cheek. He seems pleased, standing right in front of your body. Hands in his pocket, he leans a bit forward. 

“Oh, doll. What were you expecting ? A big, bloody man ? Old and creepy ?” You nod at that, you surely were not expecting such a young looking man, you weren’t expecting him. “You surely didn’t summon anyone else, then. Does that mean I’m your first ? Ah- cute.” 

You don’t really know what comes to you, speaking almost freely to this entity and yet, you’re still afraid. There’s no doubt, the dip in your stomach and the sweat on your palms. “I-...I don’t believe in these kinds of things.”, you tell him without a second thought, without understanding how dumb this might sound. 

“Oh, really ? And do you, now ?”, Jaehyun decides he likes being at eye level better, kneeling, resting on his heels, he props his chin inside his palm again. Deep, dark eyes, it’s what strikes you the most. They curl lightly inside, outer corners stretched with what you think is a dark eyeshadow. He grins again, though his eyes never gain any light.  Your brain surrounders, finally coming around the fact that this, might be real. You stay silent, bringing your knees to your chest again. 

“Oh, she does.”, voice stained, gravy, he whispers out after some seconds of silence. “She believes.”, Jaehyun points out before you do with a breathless chuckle. There’s something twisted about him, you only needed seconds to understand how he fed of your initial fear, how he craved the trembling lips, watery eyes and shaky hands. Now, it seems he wants to play. 

“Now, you know what comes with summoning me, hm ?”, you nod at that, slowly coming to the realisation that you, have two wishes. Two possibilities. You could make your life so, so much better, right ? But a side of your brain still dismisses all of this as fake, you doubt Jaehyun’s powers for a moment. “Two wishes.”, you tell him and he nods, pleased. 

Pearly white teeth glow at his carnal smile, pupils slowly growing until his irises almost disappear. “A deal, unbreakable. You, will be sealed to me. Me, to you. Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends, I will follow as your reflection. Two wishes I shall grant you. One you shall grant me. “No” we both cannot use.”, he hums. Dreaded, realization falls onto your shoulders, the next sentence makes it too real. “Now, doll. Tell me. Tell me your deepest, darkest desires.”, he whispers, leaning closer to the barrier the mirror creates. 

The groan he lets out almost startles you, stained and deep, it’s almost a moan. “I’ve been waiting for so long.” Head thrown back, locks of his hair fall backwards as he reveals his pale neck. You gulp down, you never thought about it, only summoned him in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I didn’t...I didn’t think about that.”, you whisper out, slightly frightened at what he might be able to do. Jaehyun’s twisted smile never leaves his face, head tilted to the side. 

“Come on, kid. I’m sure you can find something.”, he starts. His right thumb pressed on his fingers, one by one. Cracking his knuckles, the sound’s bone chilling for your ears. “You know, you can wish for anything in the world.” Anything ? That’s the issue, you can’t think of anything right now. Unable to look at the entity in front of you, your eyes travel to the side, fixated on the small paint stain on your floor. What do you want ? You can barely think in such a situation, not when his eyes are fixated on you, intense, dark, awaiting. It’s the pressure that makes you speak again, your brain lashes onto the first thought that comes across your mind. 

“Popularity.”, you finally blur out, something the main character of a movie would’ve said. What a fool. Popularity, you don’t even need it, you just think it would be new to have people finally looking at you, knowing who you are.

“Popularity ?”, Jaehyun says, eyebrows raised. He seems slightly taken back, amused still. “I’ve had much, much more interesting wishes.”, he says, dark eyes looking down at you. You hate it, the judgement he shows, you know you could’ve wished for anything else. He does not elaborate on that - yet. Rather, he nods. Palms against each other, his last and fourth fingers are laced together, both thumbs, pointer and middle fingers pointed to the ceiling. There’s a dark glow right behind him, the black fog rather around the entity and, before you can change your wish, his eyes plant right in yours. They glow with something different, his voice resonates in your room, it comes out of all the mirrors you own. 

“Then, Y/N. So be it !” 

That night, you don’t sleep at all. Or at least, you don’t think you do, even when trying your hardest. If Jaehyun doesn’t appear in your mirror again, if he seems to disappear after your wish in an attempt to let you rest, you’re hyper aware of the fact that he’s here anyways. Jaehyun’s presence lingers, the effect he has in your dorm is undeniable, you can not push it away. Air dry, atmosphere tense, he’s everywhere and anywhere. “Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends.”, that’s exactly what he said. If he’s watching you sleep ? Is he, himself, sleeping ? Does he even need to ? Questions collide, none of them find an answer and rather, create new ones in their wake. 

Fatigue crashes on your body at once when you finally get yourself to blow the candle out and turn the lights of your bedroom off, so does the anxiety. Finally realising what you’ve just done, what you just got yourself into. It barely feels real, minutes go by on the clock and, when you’re not glaring at the numbers casted on your ceiling, you’re fearfully looking at your mirror. For the first time since you moved here, you hate this mirror. From the placement right in front of your bed to the size, you wonder why your campus thought this was a good idea. 

At some point, you do have to rest with your head right under your covers, finding a small bit of comfort with the duvet around your body. Maybe you dove back and forth into Morpheus’ arms but, your body shakes itself awake every time, almost giving you a mini heart attack. Soon enough, the lack of light gets replaced with the pale sunlight of the early morning, allowing you to catch a few minutes of sleep or so. Even if it varies with age, scientists say a human is able to live without sleep for around eleven days. You wonder if your body is able to go with a day of sleep. Thinking about it now, sleep deprivation comes with illusions and, you swear you sa-. 

“Y/N ?”, Jaemin’s voice rings right next to you, forcefully pulling you out of your too loud and invasive of thoughts. Eyes unfocused on your meal, your attention turns towards your friend in a second. From the silence in your group and the slight smile dancing on Jaemin’s lips, you guess he has been calling for you for a few seconds now. “Oh, sorry. Yeah ?”, you mumble out, placing the wooden chopsticks in your half full box, one you barely touched. 

“Dude, not to be rude but you look awful. You good ?”, Jeno, right in front of you, interjects before anyone else can speak. The young man looks genuinely concerned, eyebrows furrowed. You can’t help but notice, his eye bags don’t look too bad for a college student. They’re also, nowhere as bad as yours. 

“Yeah. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”, sighing a little, you let your cheek rest against your fist. You could fall asleep right then and there, on this very bench. The sun isn’t too harsh on your skin, no mirrors and, most importantly, you’re surrounded by your friends. Taking an entire picnic table in the middle of your campus, chinese food was bought but, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat more than a few bites, head heavy. 

There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, who just finished his food in one go. “Is it because of that dumb legend ?” 

“Dumb legend”, something doesn’t feel right when your friend lets the words out so, so carelessly. You can’t deny the shiver that runs down your spine at that moment, though you don’t see any mirrors anywhere close. Another uncomfortable silence takes place in the middle of the table, before Jisung speaks, finally. “I honestly felt weird yesterday night.”, he mumbles out, letting the tip of his chopsticks hit the bottom of his box a few times, like he’s embarrassed to admit it. It doesn’t shock you that he did, that the one who attempted to summon Jaehyun felt his lingering presence, the aftermath of not properly executing a ritual. What take you back, are Chenle and Jaemin’s next words. 

“Same. I almost tried that shit myself.”, Chenle says, half joking. In your half asleep state, your eyes widen for a second. Straightening your back, Jaemin beats you at the fast talker. “Dude, same ? I just wanted to try and see what would happen, you know ?”, he says. Your hand wraps around his arm, catching his attention. A little “You too ?” falls from his lips and you can only nod, looking over at Chenle. 

So they felt it too. The sudden feeling of not being alone, not being the crazy one. “I thought I was making things up.”, you gasp. You have to say, in another situation, Donghyuck’s face would’ve been funny. He looks so, so disappointed when you start listing the weird coincidence you and your two friends experienced the night prior. From the change in temperature and the feeling of being watched, Renjun and Jeno watch and listen, horrified. “But obviously, I didn’t try it.”, Jaemin adds, and you almost feel like disappearing. “Yeah, yeah...Same. Just didn’t sleep well.”, you mimic, and it seems to convince your friends. 

So they felt it too and, you were apparently the only one to follow your feeling, the only one that compulsively tried it out. You hate it, maybe you should’ve texted one of them, called them or even went to one of your friend’s dorms to sleep and you wouldn’t have been in such a situation. What a dumb move, what the slight confidence and curiosity had you summon, you almost let your forehead rest against the old wood. You almost do, if it isn’t for all your friends simultaneously turning their head to the side. 

Silence falls yet again in your group as you all look, slightly confused at the young man standing right next to you. Bright red hair, eyebrow slit, bold fashion style, everyone in this campus knows him as Lee Taeyong. See, if schools have their famous clique, the Heather and whatever is the masculine equivalent, you thought it all stopped once in university. You thought wrong. On your first visit, you quickly understood who exactly were the famous and unaccessible guys. Taeyong, was one of them. From his intimidating looks, ever changing hair color, sharp features and deep voice, he had everyone’s attention. Needless to say, you never saw him from so, so close. 

“Hey...Looking for something ?”, ah Donghyuck. Always the bold, the lifesaver. Sipping on his bubble tea, he looks straight at the oldest who barely gives him any attention. 

“Yes, actually.”, the red haired answers, gaining a few confused looks from your group. Looking at Jaemin for a second, you silently wonder if any of your friends know the Lee Taeyong enough for him to let himself be seen in your company. It seems he doesn’t understand either, quickly raising his shoulders. Catching your straw between your lips, you slowly sip onto the last drop of your juice, curious. 

“Y/N ?”, the dance student asks, looking straight into your eyes. It’s strange, how his eyes only manage to make you shift a little on your seat. You have to say, you did not know he knew your name, even was aware of your existence. Sure, him and Johnny were friends but, you doubt your friend told him about you. Still sucking on the last drops, you nod slowly. “I’m hosting a party this Sunday, are you coming ?” 

You choke on the liquid. Uh ? What’s going on ? You think it’s the lack of sleep that makes you hear things, but he doesn’t seem to mind and continues. “To celebrate the end of exam season. You’re Johnny’s friend, right ? He’ll send you the address.” 

And, just like that, the oldest smiles down at you and leaves. He leaves and lets your friends glare at you for answers, answers you do not have. 

Or maybe, you do. Wishing for popularity, you almost forgot about it. Was that how it began, people you barely know inviting you and not your friends to parties ? “What the fuck just happened ?”, asks Renjun, almost turning around to glare at Taeyong who sits with his friends, giving you a quick look. 

“I have no idea.” 

On any other normal, ordinary day, you would’ve opened your door without a second thought, mechanically almost. Throwing your bag at the foot of your bed before letting your body fall right in the middle of the mattress after a long, long day. But, your life is apparently far, far from ordinary since last night. Practically stuck in front of your dorm’s door, your fist unconsciously clenches the leather strap of your backpack. Knuckles turning white, it’s almost like you’re gripping the last bits of your sanity. Once you enter the four walls of what once was your safe space, you can only guess what is going to wait for you. 

Anyways, you cannot sleep right in front of your door, you can’t work on the dirty floor of your hallway, right ? It takes another rush of courage for you to push the handle down and finally allow yourself to enter your dorm. Even if you were ready for anything to happen, the sound of his voice once you close your door makes you jump back against the wood. “Ah, doll. Finally.”, it’s sultry, deep, it follows the look on his eyes when you carefully step towards your bed, second guessing his next actions. 

How are you supposed to act when you have an entity living in your mirror ? You wish Google could answer this question, you really do. Quickly glaring at the man in front of you, you’re a lot less scared now that the sun freely enters your bedroom, enough for you to notice a few more details that you might have missed the night prior. Victorian clothes, the tip of his fingers a dark grey as they dance on his jawline, Jaehyun still has the same cocky smile on his rosy lips. 

“Had a taste of popularity yet ?”, he asks, though he already knows the answer very well. Non-verbal, you keep an eye on your mirror while letting your bag fall on the floor, awkwardly sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Uh, yeah.”, you let out, fingernails slightly gazing over the skin of your arm. You had a feeling it was him or rather, the wish you had blurred out hours before. It had to be, right ? Sure, Johnny knows Taeyong but you doubt he invites all his friend’s friends. Even, you and Johnny weren’t close enough and barely hung out, keeping your friendship almost strictly virtually. Not to point out the fact that the young man only invited you and did not even have the courtesy to invite the rest of your group. 

Finally, you decide to take your shoes off, scooting back to the middle of your bed, wood slightly cracking under your mouvements. Here, you believe you can have your eyes on the entity at any moment, just in case. What a strange situation, you don’t even know if you can work properly in such conditions, let alone take a shower and sleep peacefully. 

“Darling, you don’t look too happy with your wish.”, the young man notes, slight amusement dancing in his voice. Apparently, Jaehyun has a habit of squatting to sit down; elbow on his knee, head in his palm, he quickly raises his eyebrows at you. Isn’t it weird ? How he is still here, asking questions like an old - weird - friend shaking up on a friend. Maybe, your view on entities might be flawed, oriented by pop culture but, you sure weren’t expecting anything like this. 

“I’m tired.”, you simply say, clearly not prepared to have a casual conversation with the entity you summoned. Picking at a loose thread on your jeans, a sigh leaves your lips the moment you grab onto your phone and notice how, even now, it won’t turn on, nice. You don’t dare point it out, though. 

“Oh, kid. I can tell.”, your eyes quickly look up at his words, half in misbelief. Clearly, he doesn’t care for the daggers your eyes are throwing at him, tinted fingers twirling the dense fog around him. “You look close to death. And believe me, I saw my fair share of people on the bridge between our world and everything beyond.”

Your death glare quickly turns to a surprised, taken back one, clearly offended. Apparently, the young man finds amusement in this again, a quiet chuckle tumbling from his lips. How could he laugh, probably knowing he’s the reason you barely slept last night. Fighting with the entity stuck in your mirror, yet another thing you never even thought you’d experience. 

“You’re the reason why I look like this ! I-I barely slept tonight.”, your voice audibly quiets down the moment you understand the tone you’re using on a creature you can’t begin to understand, one that has powers beyond your comprehension. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, his smile twists again, he likes them feisty. 

“I know.”, he simply says, batting his eyelashes, they’re long, dark. “But you, doll. Do you realise I can not do anything to you ?”, he asks and, you have to look to the side for a moment, Jaehyun continues. “I’m stuck in this mirror, I can not reach you.” 

Jaehyun can be lying. He probably is. After all, you aren’t aware of the totality of his abilities, he’s born from a dark ritual, meant to grant any desire, as twisted as they may be. Then again, why would he be lying ? If he could reach you, you think he could’ve tried something the night before. “You can’t ?”, biting down on your lower lip, you ask a bit quietly, raising your shoulders instinctively. 

“Actually, I can lean out of any mirror and reach anything at arm length but, it takes a lot of energy out of me.”, Jaehyun says, running a hand in his locks and, you have to say, the sheer thought of seeing him reach out of your mirror has your blood leaving your face, surely a sight you don’t want to witness. You don’t even ask for a demonstration, you’d rather keep the little sanity you still have now, without the image of an entity leaning out to your world. Does that mean he can reach out and grab the bag you left on the floor ? You almost lean down and tug it towards you and away from your mirror but, decide against it. At the very least, you now know that you can sleep without him walking out of your mirror. 

“Do you...Do you need to sleep ? You said it took energy.” What comes to you again ? Asking questions so freely, you guess having answers will help you be less scared. Bringing your knees to your shoulders, your body relaxes a bit when you notice the entity looking at you, seemingly taken back by a human asking him questions. Little do you know, Jaehyun doesn’t remember the last time someone wanted to know more about himself, he might as well.

“I do not need to sleep, I feed off people summoning me.”, he simply explained, getting up. You wonder for a second if he isn’t bored in your mirror, it seems like he does not have anything to do in there, you might even pity him for a second. “As long as people summon me, I exist. Once people forget about me, I’ll be gone.”, Jaehyun utters, slowly walking from one end of your mirror to another. 

“Isn’t it...Boring in there ?”, you wonder out loud, head tilted to the side. If you saw an entity being vulnerable, for the shortest of seconds, Jaehyun regains his attitude pretty quickly. There’s a laugh, a loud one you fear someone else will hear as he readjusts his rings on his fingers, one by one, before facing you again. 

“Oh, no. See, usually, people know what they’re going to wish for, their desires are dark, thrilling. Darling, yours are just plain and uninteresting.”, the entity notes, quietly. The gasp you let out at this is almost comical, though the young man doesn’t even let a reaction out. Eyebrows furrow, you almost have the reflex to throw something at your mirror. 

“I wasn’t- I didn’t even think it would work !”, you blur out a bit too loudly, letting your knees fall on your mattress. “I don’t have any dark, twisted desires, it’s not my fault !”, quickly losing yourself in excuses and defenses, you don’t notice Jaehyun’s smile growing wider at your attempts, passing back and forth in your mirror. “Even ! What did the others wish for ?”, you ask, clearly annoyed by the one way argument you just had. 

The question seems to pick the entity’s interest, you finally notice the habit he has of facing you when something interests him and, on the contrary, mindlessly passing until you’re done speaking when he isn’t interested at all. “Ah, what did the others wish for ? Doll, I do not think you’re ready to hear humanity’s most twisted impulses.” 

Curiosity and pride poked, you quickly blur back, crossing your legs. “I summoned you. I think I can hear it.” Eyes narrow, the young man takes a few seconds to judge, “Don’t you have some class work to do ? Friends to see ? I do not know, church to attend ?” You almost laugh at that, almost forget what time he probably comes from to speak in such a way. “No, I don’t.” It’s probably the slight determination in your voice mixed with the urge to tell his stories that does it for Jaehyun. Though he sighs, it’s almost a content one he has while remembering the endless acounters he had. “What do you think people summon me for ?”, he suddenly asks, starting again with his infinite passing. 

“Money, power.”, you start, and he only nods without looking at you. Suddenly, Jaehyun disappears and you almost back against the head of your bed, if it isn’t for his voice coming from the smaller mirror in your dressing table. God, how you feared it was haunted when you first bought it, even if it was straight out of ikea. You guess that now, it is. “Power.” Jaehyun eventually goes to the mirror in your bathroom, seemingly effortlessly, “Money.” You hear his voice resonate, even in this room full of furniture. Finally, he comes back again to your main mirror, the one you summoned him on. “Love.”,  a lion in his cage. 

Only then, do you notice your name still written in red lipstick, one you should probably clean off if you weren’t so scared of coming close to him. 

“Humans are greedy, so greedy to have what isn’t meant to be theirs. They’d go to great length for a twisted illusion, a flawed reality their selfish heart craves.”, he speaks through gritted teeth, it sends a shiver down your spine, makes the atmosphere colder. “I’ve had a prince, once. The second born, far far from the throne.”, Jaehyun starts, a finger tapping on his chin. “Do you know what he wished for, once he had the guts to summon me ?”, the entity suddenly asks, abruptly turning towards you. Taken back, all you can do is shake your head from left to right, hands gripping the fabric of your jeans. He told you, that people summoning him gave him more energy. You wonder if staying in the presence of the one calling him gives him more too, the effects he has on your small dorm are even more noticeable now than last night. 

“For his entire family’s death.”, Jaehyun related. 

He says this simply, so simply. If he notices the slight shift in your breathing, he doesn’t point it out and continues. 

“Such a naïve, naïve boy.”, Jaehyun hums, a slight pout on his lips. “He makes me think of you. He didn’t think it would work. But, unlike you, when he saw me, he knew what he wanted.” There’s a slight pause, where Jaehyun hums, like he’s remembering some details. “‘Tell me your deepest, darkest desires’, I said. ‘Kill them all’, the fool immediately said.” You have to say, you’re a bit captivated by how he reenacts the scene, hands flying in gestures. 

“Did you ?”, you ask almost dumbly, eyes wide. It’s like your brain still hasn’t processed everything the entity in front of you can do. It’s only when the entity gives you an empty look that you let a small, “Oh” tumblr from your lips. Obviously, he did. It’s the morbid curiosity, the one that almost has you asking how he did it but, you push it away. You convince yourself that you don’t want to know nor hear it and thankfully, Jaehyun continues before you can open your mouth. “Poor thing, he wasn’t on the throne for long.”, the man notes. For the first time, something dances in his eyes. Something he’s hiding from you has his lips parting in a quiet chuckle, like he’s remembering an old joke. 

He’s capable of murder. That, you know now. A dip in your stomach, it’s probably the way he talks about it so nonchalantly that frightens you the most. You don’t doubt, the entity probably saw and experienced a lot. Now, can you blame him ? He’s tied to a ritual, probably forced to grant wishes. You wonder, what would happen if he doesn’t act on them. Is he at fault for all the things he did ? You almost question your own morals. 

“What do people ask for the most ?”, you wonder out loud. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind the questions and, the lack of homework, phone and intimacy has you stuck with him. Might as well. The entity seems to pounder for a bit, you think you might go crazy only with the way he keeps walking back and forth in your small mirror. 

“Love.”, he finally tells you, never stopping his steps. “But it’s never true love, it’s never as perfect as they pictured it.”

So, he’s capable of forcing feelings on someone ? For the nth time, you wonder exactly what he’s capable of, where his powers stop. And here you were, asking for popularity. Sure, it could help in the long run but, you could’ve asked for so much better. But, you still have a second wish, right ? It’s there, suddenly, that you remember why you and your friends tried to summon him in the first place. Eyes wide, you move a bit closer to the mirror, though keeping some distance. 

“Is it true ? Eric ?”, you ask suddenly. It’s all because your friend talked about him, all because of a dumb rumor he heard.

“Eric ?”, Jaehyun needs a few seconds to place the name again, furrowed eyebrows relaxing after a moment. The name seems to bring some discomfort into his features and, though it disappeared after a moment, you still notice it. Silent for a moment, you press on anyways. “That he summoned you, it’s true, isn’t it ?”

Oh, how you probably shouldn’t have asked. If Jaehyun is able to control his emotions, his features turning cold, unreadable, the effect he has on your dorm can not go unnoticed. Air cold, dense, you don’t take long to understand his experience with Eric probably was not the greatest. But again, isn’t Jaehyun a powerful entity ? Why would his reaction be so radical to such a normal human ? 

“He did.”, the young man finally says, cold, abrupt. 

Is he the reason why Eric went at the top of his class ? It probably is but, what you’re most curious about is why exactly, the old college student turned so...weird. Sure, you don’t doubt the experience of successfully summoning a demon might...change someone but, it seems Jaehyun didn’t have him in his heart either. Did something happen between them ? Did Eric not grant Jaehyun’s final wish ? Were the rumors true ? Your brain’s deciding between asking and dropping the subject and, as you’re about to open your mouth again, the entity beats you at it. 

“Shouldn’t you go take a shower ? Rest early tonight.” and, just like that, he disappears from your mirror. 

People have told you many times. 

“Curiosity killed the cat.” 

You should not be here, at all. You’re supposed to have a major class right at this moment. But, a teacher being sick and a lack of substitute teachers appeared like a sign of the universe to you. See, Jaehyun’s abrupt disappearance left you with more questions, questions that only duplicated the moment you finally took a well deserved shower - after covering your mirror with a towel, just in case.

What happened with Eric ? Probably the last thought before sleep knocked you out in mere minutes. And really, the universe wouldn’t have made it so easy to find him if they didn’t want you to search, right ? A few texts here and there, Johnny yet again managed to help you more than he can imagine. Eric’s address was sent to you fifteen minutes after your class was officially cancelled and, you took the chance. Faking having some questions about both his major and job, Johnny didn’t ask any more questions. 

And here you were. Right in front of Eric’s building.

The richer, nicer era, one you never visited before. After all, you don’t know anyone living there. Pretty, tall and new buildings, small parks, high end stores. One can only dream of living in such a nice era a year after leaving university. 

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think again. In front of the old university student’s building, glass doors pushed open to reveal a pristin, clear and minimalist lobby. “But satisfaction brought it back.”, you tell yourself. 

What are you doing here ? You don’t really know. All you can really understand and form in your fogged up brain is that Eric, him, might be the only one able to understand you at this very moment. Maybe he has answers to the questions you have and are too afraid to ask. What could go wrong ? A lot, actually. But you -once again - decide to act on impulse rather than think about it. It’s a slight confidence you have that goes to your head, fogs any other rational thought. 

The lobby’s empty, calm. An abstract beige and white painting hung at your right, you immediately notice the ceiling high mirror on your left. Your reflection, it’s almost weird to see it. It has you doubting, doubting that this, is even your image here. But, you push the thought aside quickly, walking towards the little letter boxes. Kim Eric, Kim Eric. You don’t take too long to find his name tag, right next to his apartment number. Right at the top of the building, you can’t even begin to imagine the price he must’ve payed. 

Nonetheless, you make your way towards the single elevator. There, another mirror. You might think Eric was just a weird kid, that Jaehyun never had anything to do with this. After all, wouldn’t he want to live somewhere without mirrors if the rumors were true ?

Facing the metal doors, you turn away from the mirror, head moving to the calm tune of the metal box. Unconsciously avoiding the glass yourself, you’re standing closer to the opening than usual. 

What you do not see, is your reflection not following your movement, glaring into your skull. 

That weird feeling of being watched again, isn’t it ? It creeps up your spine and you try your best at pushing it aside, forcing your brain to focus on the quiet melody. A small part of your brain fears, if you turn around right now, would Jaehyun be facing you ? He’s everywhere, you’re aware of that and yet, decide to cover this truth. 

Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t stop until the very last floor, letting you escape the small cubicle before you can feel too uncomfortable, before the courage wears off and has you overthinking. And, only then do you really realise what you are doing. Visiting someone you don’t know at all, only heard rumors about only because the two of you happened to summon the same entity.

Should you really be doing this ? It seems Jaehyun doesn’t have Eric in his heart, wouldn’t he be mad ? But, he said he couldn’t do anything to you, you just have to do it, for closure. Do it, for closure-. Before your brain can stop you, you take the few steps towards Eric’s door, 165 written in golden letters on the pale wooden door. Clean carpet, big windows letting you have a breathtaking view on the area, you wonder for a second time how much money he must make to afford this place. Bringing your fist up to the door, you knock a first time. 

Silence. A kind of deception slowly takes over your body but, you guess you should’ve thought about it, maybe he’s working or, just out, like a regular citizen. 

Pure silence falls and you now wonder if you did not misread the signs, if you really should be here. Head hanging low, you’re almost about to mentally beat yourself up before your eyes fall on it. Covered by a thing, white sheet, something’s placed right against the wall. Neatly packed, you for a second think it’s a set of paintings. But, it’s the smallest of seconds, you don’t need more to understand right then. 

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think for the nth time, but you act on it, yet again. Eric isn’t here anyways, no one would notice. Slightly leaning down, you take the sheet between your fingers and lift it up. Paintings, thin pieces of wood, it could’ve been anything but hélas, covered under the fabric is what you feared most. Different mirrors, different sizes, obviously from different rooms. There’s a sigh that tumbles from your lips, are you going to end just like this ? Scared of mirrors, avoiding them ? It’s just when you get back up that you think your heart might jump out of your body. 

“Excuse me ? What are you doing here ?”, deep, breathless voice comes from the stairs you didn’t even notice. Jumping away from the door, a hand lands on your beating heart, a soundless gasp at the border of your parted lips. Eric stands clueless.He’s an average sized man, clearly out of shape, slender eyes with a prominent european nose. He does not know you but you, on the other hand, saw pictures of him. If he looked weird a few years ago, it might be worse now. If you look out of place with your regular, broke college student clothes, he does even more. Dirty, washed out and oversized t-shirt, long, brown greasy hair, he grips the iron next to him. He took the stairs, all the way to his apartment to avoid the mirror, it strikes you there. Slight anxiety takes over you, you didn’t expect him to be like this, you didn’t expect to feel so...off. 

“I-uh. Eric ?”, you ask, already knowing the answer. Slightly taken back, you let the way to his door free for him to walk, not knowing how to act towards him. He, still seems distant, rightfully so. Wavy, dry hair brushed out, his runs a hand in it before fishing for his keys. 

“Are you selling something ? I’m not interest-.”, he mumbles. You notice the bags under his eyes, dried lips. He almost looks sick, he acts like an old person in a young body. 

“Oh, no ! My name’s Y/N. We’re from the same university.”, you tell him. He doesn’t look so convinced, slowly walking towards his door. Even when he puts his key in, he still has an eye on you, like he fears being robbed right there. 

“Uh ? And what do you want ?”, the man groans out. He has you taking a step back again. How are you supposed to tell him exactly ? Shit, you didn’t think about that, at all. A “Hey, we summoned the same entity !” surely won’t do it. The lack of words from your side seems to annoy him quite quickly. Taking a step in his apartment, he immediately used the door to shelter himself, only letting his upper body be seen. He doesn’t look happy, at all. And yet, he has such a pretty apartment, right ? It’s only when he turns his light on that you see the state of the inside. All windows closed and blocked, clothes, empty boxes of instant noodles on the floor alongside a bunch of papers, it looks like a madman’s home. Even his home gives you weird vibes and suddenly, a part of you doesn’t want to be here. anymore.

Eric notices your wandering eyes and, it’s here he has enough, closing his door a little more. “Listen, Y/N. I don’t have your time right now, so-.” 

For a second time, you cut him off. “It’s about Jaehyun.”, you blur about without another thought.

His annoyed look turns frightened in seconds. The name seems to bring back a lot, things you don’t doubt he was trying to get away from. Glossy eyes wide, chapped lips parted, he looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, or like he just saw a ghost. Fuck, what did you just do ? He caughts a bit but, he isn’t as good as the entity when it comes to hiding his emotions. “I-I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just a dumb legend anyways.” Oh, he’s trying to deny, deflect. The moment he’s about to close the door, you act quickly and let your shoe block the door. 

“I did it too.”, you tell him, almost breathless. It almost feels good, to say it but, it lasts for mere milliseconds. Clearly, it doesn’t feel as good for the oldest. You think he might cry when the words process at this very moment, a sound tumbles from his lips. However, no words are said. His eyes fall upon the sheet covered glass at his shoes and, before you can understand, he manages to shut his door in your face. He sounded paranoiac, looked like a maniac. Is that what happens when dealing with Jaehyun, will you end up like this ? Surely, he was the reason why the old university student turned this way, that’s what the rumors say. 

“Leave !”, he shouts and, if anyone’s in the second apartment, you’re sure they can hear. 

“But, Eric, I just wan-.”, you try, desperate. 

Curiosity killed the cat.

“Right now !” 

Curiosity killed the cat. 

“You vazey, you’re an absolute idiot.” 

Unlike last night, you don’t think twice before opening the door to your dorm, almost slamming the iron knob right on your thin wall. Just like you thought, Jaehyun barks at you the moment the door’s closed, barely waiting for the lock to click. He knows, he knows you tried to get answers from Eric, there’s no denying it. 

“You were there.”, it’s a statement more than a question, one you throw at the same time you do your bag, sliding on the floor before it abruptly stops when it hits your mirror. If that’s even possible, the entity gets closer to the border between his world and your own, gritted teeth has him speaking lowly. “I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.” A dark promise, one you now understand the meaning of. He’s linked to you, whether you want ot admit it or not, it has your body covered in goosebumps. 

“You shouldn’t have gone there.”, he continues, sighing heavily through his nose. Clearly, he didn’t think you would visit the old college student, let alone try to question him and tell him about your experience. “He’s mad, he’s dangerous.”, the entity continues. And that’s what does it for you. Abruptly turning towards the mirror, it’s like you quickly forget about the power he holds. 

Anger bubbles up in your chest, it pushes words out of your mouth, “You’re the one who drove him mad !” 

If you fear the entity, you do not show it. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, you keep a straight face. You’re ready for anything and everything. He might scream, make your room even colder, use his powers but, you don’t expect his reaction. He laughs, he laughs almost maniacally. So close to the mirror, the entity shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning closer until you think he might come out. 

Jaehyun could’ve said many things at this moment, he could’ve said the truth. But, unbeknownst to you, his feelings take over. He’s a creature of anger, pitiness, even. 

“He knew the deal.”, he spits out. Voice going deeper, you fear it might turn inhuman. 

“And so, you decided to drive him mad ? He looks miserable.”, you bark back. You’re too far gone to stop yourself right now. The pounding of your heart rings in your ears, it clouds your brain and has you repeating the same sentence again and again but, you never voice it. Would he do the same to you ? 

“I could’ve done much, much worse, doll.” It’s a whisper, like a promise of things he might just do to you if you keep acting in such a way. The nickname doesn’t have anything sweet in it, it’s harsh, a slap in the face. Swallowing harshly, you keep your eyes on the entity, faking a lack of expression, a lack of fear. Clearly, he likes it, a small smirk tugging at his lips but nothing shines in his eyes. If you thought he was normal the night before, if you pitied him hours ago, it’s quite hard now that he looks even more twisted than Eric. 

“And what, exactly ?”, you dare to ask, keeping your voice firm. Jaehyun’s smile only turns wider, head leans to the side. A few locks of his hair fall in front of his piercing eyes, he judges your reactions. 

“Come closer.”, he starts, keeping his voice quiet. “And I’ll tell you.”, the entity gets right back at you, daring light in his eyes. You know, you know he can reach out at a certain point but you take a step closer anyways. Your heart starts pumping faster, threatening to burst out of your ribcage, it creates white noise, blurs your eyes, restricts your air ways.

“She’s a daring one.”, Jaehyun notes, twisted smirk. He’s close, so close. You’ve never been this close to him, ever. If he was out, you would’ve been able to feel the air he blows out on the bridge of your nose, if he wasn’t an entity, you’d be able to see the colorful particle in his eyes. His tongue rests on his pointy canine, lightly traveling to his lip.

“I saw it, the pity in your eyes.”, he starts, a sort of anger in his voice but, you do not flinch. Keeping your eyes on his, you blink slowly, trying to calm your cardiac rhythm, breaking slowly through your nose. “Do you think I’m all alone, here ?”, Jaehyun asks. But, he does not even need an answer. By the way your eyebrows furrow for a second, he understands you never thought about it. 

“Ah, stupid fucking kid.”, he growls lowly, you stay silent. “Do you remember the prince I told you about ?” This time, you simply nod, remember when the young looking man told you that he didn’t even stay on the throne for too long. Jaehyun laughs again, the sound lightly resonating in your room, coming out of the different mirrors you own. “He’s trapped with me, here. I’m not alone.”, Jaehyun explains and, the light that flashs in his eyes tells you that he isn’t lying. Yet, you question it. Mouth agape, eyebrows furrow, the attempt you made to calm your heart fails. “That can’t be.”

“You seem to underestimate my powers, doll.”, and finally, like he’s letting you breathe a bit more, he leans back. He giggles there, both his hands behind his head as he lets his torso fall backwards. You’re not even able to form a proper sentence in your mind and, when he senses the lack of words, the entity continues, unbothered by the reality of his actions. People wouldn’t willingly go in the mirror, if that was even possible, right ? 

“I know what you’re thinking. Ah- it’s so easy to read you, darling. Is it possible for a human to join me ?”, he voices your question without you having to. “You can but, only for a few minutes. If you don’t leave quickly enough, you’re trapped here.” It’s the realisation crashing over you that makes you take a step back. Finally, when your brain goes on high alert, when your body tenses and your senses heighten at the risk, you find your words again. “No one would willingly do that.”, you blur out, trying to find a loophole somewhere. Surely, he’s bluffing, trying to scare you, right ? 

“Doll, you seem to forget that I have a wish too.”, his words have you dizzy but, your body isn’t able to back away again, forced to stay close enough, too close. “It’s simple, really. I wish for a dance and, they have to. When the dance’s over, they rarely have time to run back to their little, real world.” The brunette chuckles again, deep, gravy, bone chilling. 

“You don’t believe me ?”, Jaehyun continues, faking being hurt. He leans forward again, captivating you with his deep eyes. “Do you want to see them all ?”, he asks, lips in a wide smile. He could very much do this to you too, would he ? You shake your head from left to right quickly, fear clear in your eyes, he traps people. God only knows how many. You think you might choke on a cry right then, you don’t think you’ve ever been so scared in your life. Trapped, he seems to do it without a second thought, without an ounce of regret. What did you get yourself into ? 

“Good. Good girl.”, he cooes. “Know your place.” 

For a second time, his face’s too close to you. Having you so close probably gives him more energy and, as the seconds pass, you think you might pass out on the floor. You even think he might lean out of the mirror, like he said he could but, before you can open your mouth again, say anything that could help your case, he beats you at it. “Didn’t they tell you to be careful ? Curiosity killed the cat.” and just like that, he disappears again, you fall into your knees.

In the middle of your first year in university, you found out you didn’t really like frat parties. But see, if they can give you a reason to avoid your dorm, you’ll take anything. Anything, really. 

Loud music blasted through the house, a crowd of people you barely know, you don’t even think you ever saw this place without the party, multicolor lights. You also think you already wore this dress for another one of their parties, earlier on your first year but, you didn’t really think twice about your clothes today. You’ve been here for an hour at best and, the only thing you did was drink a bunch of water, checking your phone every now and then. Unfortunately, none of your friends were able to make it and, a good part didn’t want to come as they weren’t even invited. 

Leaving you all alone in a party full of popular people you never ever spoke to before. You didn’t really blame them. But anyways, wasn’t that what you wanted, popularity ? This is part of it, right ? Fuck, how can you hate something you wished for ? How can you hate it so, so much. Maybe you should leave ? You don’t even like the music they’re playing or the drinks they’re mixing together. You even thought about paying for a hotel but, you know Jaehyun wouldn’t have any difficulty finding you again, he’s attached to you. 

Maybe you should take all your mirrors out, just like Eric did but again, you still have a wish. He still has one, you can’t see yourself leaving in fear for the rest of your life. Dodging every mirror, acting like a maniac. It’s when you’re in deep thought, leaning against the kitchen counter that Johnny decides to join you.

“Hey, Y/N ! You made it !”, the tallest has to speak loudly over the music, holding a red cup in his hand. His everlasting smile on his face, he managed to get a tired one out of you. “Yeah…”, you start, taking a sip of your drink, it surely didn’t help your dry throat. You’re not even having fun here, you look like you’re waiting for someone who’s never going to come. “I didn’t even know Taeyong knew me. I was a bit surprised when he invited me.”, you blur out, trying your best to make a conversation. 

“Actually, he told me he saw you a few times and thought you were cute.”, your friend says, a cheeky smile on his lips. The confession has heat burning your cheeks for a moment, lips parted. Taeyong ? The Lee Taeyong ? You think your friend’s pulling a prank on you but you know him enough, Johnny wouldn’t be the type to do that. 

“I-. Wait, really ?”, you ask, dumbfounded. It’s the effect of your wish, you know it but, you clearly weren’t prepared for that. Do people like you now...Because of this ? Without knowing you, without ever talking to you ? 

“Yeah, really ! You should go talk to him.”, you’ve known Johnny to be kind of the Cupid of his friend group and, he takes the role quite well. Pointing at a corner, you can distinguish one of their couches, occupied by Johnny’s friend group. Before you even know it, a gentle hand’s on your shoulder, helping you through the crowd, sweaty bodies dancing mindlessly, such a cliché. 

You can’t even find a way to escape. Finally, you’re right in front of the said group. Boys and girls, all sat on the couch, some on the others, you would want to sit on someone in such heat. Some girls are hanging out with them too, flashing you a nice smile as you awkwardly stand next to Johnny, like a lost puppy. 

“Look who I found !”, Johnny happily shouts, catching everyone’s attention. Then, you decide you hate it, too many eyes on you. A girl you don’t even know the name of sits straight and waves, “Y/N ! It’s nice to see you, it’s been so long !” Do you know her ? Her face’s vaguely familiar but at best, you might have seen her during a first year party. You hate it, entirely. All you can do is nod slowly as you feel your heart pics up, your palms grow sweaty. Taeyong’s in the middle, legs spread on the couch, he has one of his friends moving from his seat to give you some space. “Here, sit !”, he invites with a warm smile. 

What can you do ? You obey, sitting down next to the young man. You need to sit down anyways, feeling the heat crash over your body, it makes your head light, your mouth dry. You sit in fear you’ll pass out. You can almost feel the energy being drained out of you. Maybe popularity isn’t for you. The music seems to fade away, just as your heart pumps in your ears again. It rings, something familiar now. Has the room always been this size ?

“Y/N ? What game do you prefer ?”, from the tone Johnny has, it’s probably the second time he’s asking you this and, before you can even find another solution or, the strength to socialise, you get up. He flashes you a look, Taeyong a curious one you can’t really see as he’s behind you. 

“Can you please hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom.”, you blur out. 

“Oh, sure !”, always the nice one. Poor Johnny, you almost shove your glass in his hand, slashing some water on his fingers as he covers the opening. “First door on your right when you take these stairs.”, he says. 

If you could, you would’ve ran to the bathroom. Your steps are stopped when you cut right through the dancing crowd, using your elbows to make your way. It’s crazy, how big their living room is and still, you manage to feel strapped, like the walls keep moving away from you, making it impossible to reach the stairs, the escape. You think someone drops a bit of their drink on your dress but you don’t really care at the moment, walking with quick steps when finally, you’re out of the circle. 

Running up the stairs, your hand lands on the wet patch the unknown drink left at your side, nice.You don’t know what it is, it sticks to your fingers, probably sugary. Finally, the music seems to fade naturally when you reach the first floor, pushing the door of the bathroom without a second thought. As said, you’ve been to parties before, you know bathroom can be...unlocked and busy. Thankfully, no one’s there and you’re able to lock yourself in the bathroom, completely sheltering yourself. 

Turning the light on, you quickly find the sink, hands gripping the border before you lean forward a bit, opening the faucet. 

“Popularity isn’t for me.”, you tell yourself, eyes set on your reflection. Forehead sweaty, your makeup isn’t as good as it was when you left your dorm. Even, is it your reflection ? It seems you can’t even find a safe place anymore. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes, small transparent pearls threatening to fall at any moment, you can’t even trust your own reflection. Something grips at your throat, makes it hard to breathe and all you can do is let your head fall down, trying to calm yourself by running your hands under the cold water. 

You can’t even go back to your dorm, not wanting to see Jaehyun. It’s a mixture of fear and something else you can’t really identify, something that makes you regret acting in such a way. It’s crazy, how you almost thought things were going well for an actual entity you summoned. You guess you let things go to your head, forgetting the supernatural aspect of it all. You don’t think it has ever been so hard to see a future for yourself, so hard to find a solution to a problem, you feel stuck. 

Between the four walls of a foreign bathroom, you finally let a sob tumble from your lips. You unsuccessfully try and muffle it against your wet palm but, it all makes it too hard to breathe. Harshly turning the faucet off, you desperately try to find a rhythm. 

“Hey, kid.” 

You almost jump out of your skin. Taking a step back from the sink, you don’t even look up. A voice you know too well by now but, this time is doesn’t sound as harsh. Did he really have to appear so suddenly ? He didn’t help your breathing and you make that known when you glare up at the entity. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”, Jaehyun says. There’s something soft in his voice, something you surely are not used to. The mirror is much smaller here, you can only see from his upper body and has you focused on his face. Again, he’s good at hiding his emotions, cold face contracting with the tone in his voice. 

“It’s okay.”, you finally breathe out, not wanting to fight or scream right at this moment. You don’t think you have the energy for, at least. 

“Popularity really isn’t for you.”, he laughs and for once, it’s meant for you to laugh too. There’s a tired sigh tumbling from your lips, far from a laugh. 

“What are you doing here ?”, you ask, though the answer is obvious. 

“I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.”, he repeats and unlike yesterday, it doesn’t sound like a threat, more like a silent promise that he’ll watch over you. “Come closer.” 

And you do, a lot less fearful. Separated by the sink, you stand at its edge. 

“Don’t freak out, doll.”, the entity warns and, before you can even ask him why, he leans out. He leans out of the mirror. Though you don’t freak out, like he asked you, it still takes you by surprise. Mouth agape, the way he effortlessly lets his upper body detach from the mirror is hypnotising. He almost looks human, if it isn’t for his glass skin. The light of the bathroom reflects on the highest point of his cheek, you’d have to look a few minutes to understand if his skin’s pale or if he’s slightly translucide. Faded beauty marks and light freckles, you’d almost be able to count them. 

“There, good.”, he coes softly when you blink slowly. Jaehyun looks so normal, like you’d be able to pick a fallen eyelash on his skin. From here, you can detail his glossy hands, the grey tint at the tip of his fingers and before you can search for any trace of veins on his arms, he cups your cheeks. 

Skin cold, his hands a light touch like he isn’t sure if he should be touching you. The change in heat has you flinching for a second before relaxing, welcoming the cold trail his thumbs let under your tired eyes. 

“Breathe with me, I don’t want to see you having a panic attack.”, he explains. And, you do. Soft breath falls at the bridge of your nose, drying the small drops of water the faucet left on your skin. Through his nose, out his mouth, the entity takes the time and waits for you to match his rhythm. 

Jaehyun, Yoonoh, the entity you summoned is helping you calm down in the middle of a party you hate, that’s the thought you have to push away before finally, feeling yourself getting back to normal. Your heart regains somewhat of a normal rhythm, it stops ringing in your ears and most importantly, nothing restraints your throat. Then, you look up at the entity, big brown eyes checking up on your features, only then do you notice the small dots of gold near his pupil. 

You back away. 

Taking a step back, you detach your eyes from his own, he looks more alive out of his mirror and you’re not sure you want him so close. Or maybe, it’s the fact you do want him a bit closer that scares you. After all, he managed to calm you down easily, he’d almost pass as a normal student.

“Thank you.”, you manage to let out after swallowing down. After a small nod, he lets his body get swallowed back into the mirror. It’s crazy, how his appearance changes the slightest bit, enough that he loses the human like je ne sais quoi that made him familiar, friendlier almost. 

“It’s alright, doll. I’ve had my fair share of people to calm down but usually, it’s during our first meeting.”, he jokes a bit, regaining his attitude when he’s sure you’re alright. 

There’s a silence, a moment when you let the music come to your eyes, the setting sinks in your brain again. Johnny and his friends are probably waiting for you, you don’t even know how long you’ve been there. On the other side, Jaehyun takes a look at the bathroom you locked yourself in, sighing a bit at the music loudly blasting, making the walls vibrate every now and then. You now know how quick Jaehyun is to speak and, for the first time, you catch him, speaking at the same time. 

“I should go home.”

“You should go home.” 

“Nice shirt.” 

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun. You need to stop doing that.”, jumping to the side, you almost drop the towel you were using to dry the wet ends of your hair. 

Minutes after Jaehyun left the bathroom, you did the same. The party wasn’t an interesting one to you and so, you faked being sick to Johnny and his friends. Needless to say, many were disappointed for a reason you couldn’t really understand. At least, Johnny insisted on driving you to your dorm and soon enough, you found your safe space again. 

Strangely, Jaehyun didn’t make his presence known when you entered the room, you were almost used to having him waiting with a sarcastic sentence at the tip of his tongue. Nevertheless, you hung a towel on the mirror of your bathroom and took a quick shower, slipping into freshly washed pyjamas so quickly you almost fell down. 

Apparently, the young man decided to appear right when you stepped out of your bathroom, almost knocking your knee against some furniture. Easing yourself on your bed, you let your body at the edge, right in front of your mirror.

“But you always look like a cute deer caught in headlights. That’s the saying, right ?”, he asks, sitting down in front of you. You nod a bit, a slight smile on your face. “Thank you again, for earlier.”, setting the towel aside, you let your legs dangle. You should probably try and sleep but, it seems Jaehyun isn’t thinking about leaving right now. The entity doesn’t answer, simply nodding, almost not wanting to address the gesture. “I thought you left.”, you tell him, being truthful for the first time. 

“I was just mad.”, Jaehyun almost says, he almost voices his own emotions but decides against it. 

“You shouldn’t have gone to his house.”, he says again. But, unlike yesterday, he doesn’t sound as mad, as angry. You sigh anyways, he sounds like a parent scowling you, but you guess he’d be too old for that. But somehow, you know he isn’t really wrong. Eric didn’t even speak to you, nothing good came of it. Rather than voicing your opinion, you let your eyes travel to the side, avoiding the man’s gaze. 

“He’s dangerous.”, he starts, playing with his rings again. If you were in his head, you’d be able to witness the dilemma he’s facing. However, Jaehyun picks rather quickly. “Do you remember what I told you ? What people wish for the most ?”, he asks. It’s funny, Jaehyun always sounds like he’s questioning you, making sure you listen to him. “Love.”, you easily answer, attention picked. 

“That was Eric’s second wish. But as I told you, it’s never true love, its a fake emotions, I can’t- I can not force such a powerful feeling onto someone. It always ends up badly. When Eric’s “dream girl” - like he called her - didn’t love him like he wanted her to, he got mad.” By now, you know Jaehyun’s behaviour quite well. When he didn’t show much emotion while telling you the story of this unknown prince, the entity looks uncomfortable enough when thinking about Eric. Eyebrows raised, there’s a shiver that runs down your spine. The young man didn’t even say it and yet, you already know where it is going. 

“He tried to kill her one night.”, he starts. For an entity who saw, experienced so much, you think it’s how fresh it all is that has him showing so much emotion. Someone capable of murder, that’s who you visited without a second thought. The behavior, it all started to make sense. Your mouth hangs open for a moment before you find your words again. “Is she- Is she alright ?”, you ask first. 

“She was, I do not know her whereabouts as of today.”, he continues, letting one of his rings roll between his fingers. “I couldn’t let him do it. I used my wish to teach him a lesson, showed him things that went straight through his thick skin. He managed to escape in time but he left me with his.”, before you can ask, the entity lifts his right sleeve a bit more. On his arm, the young man has a wound. Almost unrealistic, the cut doesn’t have a trace of blood but it seems forever frozen in this state, never healing. “Said I’d make him pay and that was enough to install fear, forever.” 

The paranoia, the look in his eyes at Jaehyun’s name, everything added up. You almost feel like throwing up, you knew humanity had its vermin but never, never did you think they’d be so...close. You never thought you’d see the entity with morals. You’re glad he explained the reasons behind his actions, behind his behaviour. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t know you would get hurt.”, you tell him, almost whispering. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”, the entity simply replies. He isn’t wrong, reminding you of centuries he had before meeting you. You don’t even know his full name, or his story. 

“Then tell me about yourself.”, you blur out, not thinking twice. For the first time, Jaehyun is taken back, blank expression on his face. The entity takes a few seconds to process your words and you continue, taking over the conversation for the first time. “Do you ever tell your story ?” He probably never does, you wonder if it’s even a question to ask. Maybe too dark, too painful, you wonder for a second if the question won’t make him mad.

Finally, when the young man regains his attitude, he raises his eyebrows for a second, “People never ask me for it. I told you, humans are greedy creatures. They use me for their two wishes and try to forget about me.” There’s something sad in his words. Now, you understand. He probably feels used, has to do people’s dirty work, grant without a word to say. Somehow, it manages to tighten your heart. Sure, a side of your brain reminds you of the entity he truly is but, another one can not help but feel sad, sad for the life he isn’t even leaving. “Tell me, I want to know.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Jaehyun might feel the smallest spark of happiness. To be cared for. You’re probably asking out of politeness but god, does it feel nice to have someone asking you about your story. “Are you sure ?”, he asks anyways, fainting some arrogance, some detachment while he still can. 

“I was a human once, cursed.”, the entity starts, almost nonchalant. Eyebrows raised, you can’t help the slight gasp that tumbles from your lips. “Cursed ?” Scooting closer to the edge, the fear of being close to him slowly disappears. 

He nods a bit, before fully getting into his story, one he never really talked about to anyone else, now that he thinks about it. “Was born a long time ago, there’s nothing interesting about my life, really.”, like he’s recalling some old, old memories, he looks up for a moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You don’t ask when he was born, letting him continue without stopping him. “We’d get married quite young at that time.”, he notes. 

“I was 23 and had a few choices but there was this girl.”, Jaehyun continues and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, slight smile on his face, it’s clear he’s remembering fond memories. “Pretty brunette, her name was Haseul. We were in love.” Love, something you for a moment thought the entity wasn’t capable of. Something flashes in his eyes, regret, probably. “We were supposed to get married but not everyone was happy with it. From the choices I had, there was this young lady, her name was Agnes.”, the young man says her name with venom on his tongue, you can now only imagine what she did.

“Agnes was supposedly madly in love with me and, when she found out me and Haseul were already talking about marriage, she did this.”, it’s like even after centuries, he isn’t quite able to put words on it. A deep sigh, the entity needs some seconds to find his words, leaning back on his hands. “It was rumored that she was a witch, I never really believed it.” Can you blame him ? You didn’t believe in him either, only days ago. Hands on the border of your bed, you lean a bit closer, captivated by the story. “What did she do ?” 

“I don’t really know how but, she used black magic to curse me here. Forever stuck, if she couldn’t have me, no one could.”, he says, almost nonchalant. He probably accepted his faith long ago but for you, who just listened to his story, you have something tightening around your neck. “He was a human too, once. Loved by the wrong person, punished for loving and giving himself to someone else. He ended up stuck for it, a faith you’d never wish upon anyone, not now that you know all the things he saw and experienced. Jaehyun didn’t even deserve it, you think it’s what saddens you the most.”

“Kid, are you alright ?”, Jaehyun asks, his head to the side. Fuck, you didn’t even have a second to hide the water building up at the corner of your eyes. Quickly using your shirt to dab the droplet away, you shake your head. 

“Y-Yeah. It’s just...I didn’t know you were human before.”, you start and, he laughs a bit. He tells you he’s used to it, many misjudged him as a demon. “You didn’t deserve this.”, you mumble, feeling the lump in your throat grow as you force yourself to keep a straight face. It’s probably the lack of sleep and the recent events that have you on your nerves.

“And, can’t you wish to get out ?”, you ask. Somehow, god knows why, your brain tries to find a solution, probably the humanity in you speaking up. “Can’t I wish for you to get out.” This seems to make the young man laugh, few locks falling in front of his eyes, he has to use his hand to push them back. “Ah, doll. You’re cute. Would you ever do that ?”, he asks, laughing. You don’t answer, would you ? Conflicted and yet, something tells you that you would. You would, because you’re a good person, right ? You wouldn’t want someone stuck in such a way, you wouldn’t let someone innocent suffer if you could get them out. Is Jaehyun innocent ? All the things he did, he had to. But again, he did trap people with him, didn’t he ? Two sides fight, relentless in your brain but somehow, the way he’s looking at you with malice, like he already knows you won’t do it has you nodding. 

You nod and, it has the power to make the entity’s eyebrows raise a bit, a slight smile on his rosy lips. “It’s not how it works.”, he finally says. 

“Is there a way to get out ?”, you’re too curious. If there was a way to get him out, would you do it ? You push the thought away, not wanting to question your morals, not right now. Probably sensing the conflict you’re going through, Jaehyun shrugs. “There is, but you don’t need to know.” At this point, the young man knows what he’s doing. He pokes your curiosity, makes you want and need to know more. Obviously, it works. “Tell me !” 

“It’s a ritual. It’s a bit gruesome, I don’t think you want to hear it now, darling. Requires someone’s blood, someone who truly loves me. See, the witch thought no one would ever love me as much as she did.”, Jaehyun explains, detailing your reactions at his words. Something twists at your stomach, blood ? An old ritual, you can’t even begin to think about all the things necessary. Someone who truly loves him, a big requirement when people summon him only to use him, never getting to know the entity. Again, can you really blame them ? 

“See, nothing really interesting.”, Jaehyun concludes, “But you, darling. Tell me about yourself.” 

Monday night. 

Days trying to function with little to no sleep, days with little to no privacy. You think it’s what you miss the most, privacy. Sure, you could put a towel up on your mirror whenever you took a shower but see, you couldn’t take long showers, longs baths. You always feared Jaehyun would appear out of nowhere, manage to get the towel out and then, then what ? And yes, Jaehyun never did that before, only time he truly appeared without you being prepared for it was last night, during the party but, it was for a good cause. Right now, laying in your bed, sheet almost entirely covering your face, it’s another time of privacy you’re longing for. See, you don’t remember the last time you touched yourself. Alright, maybe that’s a hyperbola, you do remember but it seems so, so far away. Few hours of sleep and so many events you can’t even talk about to your friends have you feeling almost jetlagged, having to check your phone for the hour and day. 

Staring at your ceiling, a deep sigh leaves your lips. You can’t sleep, you can not sleep at all and you have a trip to your home town tomorrow, things to do that require all your brain power. Your brain and body won’t fall into Morpheus’ arms and, you know exactly why. You need it, you need an orgasm so, so bad. It had been on your mind for a while now, it had been clouding your mind for hours now, actually. Hanging out with your friend today did help quite a bit, helping your brain think about anything else. But now, alone in the the middle of your bed, you can’t deny. Your body doesn’t lie to you, the way you have to close your thighs, the way your hands dangerously move inch by inch towards the center of the problem. Your mind does not lie to you either, foggy images, too clear and loud thoughts. 

Yes, you could give in, let your body and mind have what it graves. But, another problem’s right in front of you. The mirror Jaehyun would usually occupy. Fuck, he never announces himself, he never tell you when he’s coming. What if he just...Pops up again ? However, you found a loophole. If your phone doesn’t work when Jaehyun is here, in your mirror, whether you see him or not, the object starts working again when he fully leaves. God knows where he goes, who’s mirror he haunts but at the very least, you know when he isn’t there, right ? God, you know it’d put you to sleep. Picking your phone up, it’s clear the device’s working exactly like it should. You could be quick with it, right ? Two in the morning, you don’t see why Jaehyun would come back now, you really don’t. 

And, fuck it. The pale moonlight freely enters your bedroom, helping you distinguish the furniture in your dorm, letting you keep an eye on your mirror just in case. Ditching your heavy blanket to the side, you let the cold air brush over your naked legs. You managed to get out of your pants a bit earlier, struggling with the heat under your sheets. Your right hand softly lands on your closed core, immediately making your leg raise. Planting your foot on your mattress. 

Your index slowly traces your lips, over the already wet fabric. God, it’s been so long and you’re already wet. You barely needed to find a memory to get off to for that. The tip of your finger easily finds your bud of nerves, lightly pressing. The small gesture has you gasping softly, keeping your voice low enough. 

Enough of teasing yourself, you do not think you have time for this, nor the patience. Pushing your panties aside, you ease a finger between your lips. Finally, some friction. It is not long until you add a second finger to the mix, using a rhythm you know would get you off quickly. Biting down on your lower lip, you have to breathe through your nose, out your mouth to keep your whines quiet enough. Strangely enough, you find yourself thinking back to Jaehyun’s breathing, how his cold hands cupped your face so gently. 

In and out, you let a mewl out, unable to muffle it. His cold, ring hugged fingers, wouldn’t they feel so, so nice on your burning skin ? 

Oh, what are you even thinking about ? You should not, you can’t. Find something else to think about, another boy to hold your fantasies. It shouldn’t be so hard, right ? It’s almost pathetic, how your mind manages to go through a list of boys you know or once you and yet, the one that has been shaking your life up keeps numbing your mind. 

Don’t give in to your thoughts, a side of your brain yells at you. 

But there's nothing wrong in this, is it ? A little secret to keep to yourself, just like you’re keeping Jaehyun a secret from everyone.

Fuck, you can’t find your clouded mind at this very moment, you almost give it, let your fingers move faster with a picture pecfect imagine of glossy fingers, shamlesly, a name you never thought you’d moan tumbles from your lips. If only, if only you’d notice the weak flashing of your phone’s screen, the drained battery on the black screen for a few seconds before it went dead. If only you’d notice. 

“Well. What do we have here ?”, you almost jump out of your skin, you almost have a heart attack right here. You knew it, you knew you shouldn’t have done it. In a quick motion, you try and grab onto your sheet but, Jaehyun’s voice stops you. Frim, it’s an order he gives you. “Oh no, don’t try and hide yourself now.” 

Fingers naturally slowing down, you can’t help the pathetic whisper that leaves from your mouth when you lose the so needed friction. Even if the young man tells you not to hide, you have to close your legs again. You think you’d be mortified, completely frozen but, it’s pure frustration that crashes over you. “God, Jaehyun ! Can’t you warm before ?”, you groaned, your left hand on your forehead. Your right hand, on the other side, grips the thin sheet under your body. You’re probably staining but, you clearly don’t care right now. There’s a low chuckle from the entity, he doesn’t even seem fazed at all. Taking a final step closer to the mirror, something flashes in his eyes. “You’re the one who called me.”, he points out. His own fingers gaze over his jawline and you almost slap yourself, you shouldn’t have such thoughts. But they do look so, so inviting. Did you call him ? Oh, you did, without even realising. 

“I heard you.”, he hums, arrogant. He seems so, so amused by the situation. Pearly white teeth bite down on his lower lip for the faintest of second, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ah, I thought you were calling me because you were in danger, doll. But here you are, touching yourself and moaning my name ? What a dirty, naughty little slut.”, the nickname rolls out his tongue too easily, it strikes right, numb your brain even more. 

There’s no point in denying it but, somehow, you try and act like his words aren’t affecting you at this very moment, like he does have your thighs closing, core aching. “Don’t call me that.”, you try, breathless. Only then do you notice the change, the sudden heat in your bedroom. A smirk grows on his rosy lips, “Why ? You clearly like it.” 

“Go away.”, you try, half believing it. 

“You don’t want me to. Why leave when you were moaning my name ?”, he barks right back. Clearly, the back and forth amuses him, it fires him up, he loves when they put up a fight, even already lost. You stay silent for a moment, unable to find words, a sentence that could make sense. “Come on, doll. Show me.”

That voice, you don’t know if you heard it before. Sultry, soft, it feels like velvet. Smooth, inviting, he has you hypnosed and, before you know it, your legs fall open. Heart pumping rapidly in your chest, its excitement that pumps into your vein but, you don’t want to admit it yet. 

Oh, the joy and cockiness that flashes in the brunette’s eyes. You think it’s the growl he lets out that takes your breath away, legs trembling. “Come closer, darling. Let me see you.” And you do. Just like last night, you scoot closer until your legs are dangling from your bed. It’s lust speaking, lust acting on your numbed, dizzy mind when your thighs spread open for him to see. 

“Pretty.”, he notes and, before you think about doubting your actions, ask him what the two of you are doing at this very moment, he continues. “Show me what you were doing.” 

Under his eyes, your right hand finds your drenched core again, hooking the fabric of your underwear to the side, you easily let your two fingers part your core before slipping them in. There’s no point in hiding your moans anymore, soft whispers tumbling from your lips. 

“God, you’re so wet.”, he notes. “Faster, fuck yourself faster.”, Jaehyun orders lowly. Captivated by his voice, you do, fingers moving at a rapid pace. It feels too good, surreal, almost. 

“Jaehyun, what are we-.”, you start, though it turns in a moan. 

“Sht, shut up. ‘m trying to make you feel good, yeah ? Isn’t that what you wanted ?”, it is, you think to yourself. The side of your brain, desperately trying to fight against it finally lets go, gives in into the pleasure. “There you go.”, he hums happily once your head hangs backwards. “Tell me, what are you thinking about ?”

The words get caught in your throat. Eyes heavy, you need a few seconds before being able to speak up again. “Your fingers.”, you admit, any ounce of shame finally leaving your body. It accepts the pleasure Jaehyun is guiding you towards. “Slow down.”, he instructs and, you do so, a small pout on your lips. 

“Look at that. Who thought you’d beg me to let you cum some days ago ? Weren’t you the one who pulled a knife on me ?”, he coes. He isn’t wrong, you whine softly at the slow rhythm you now have to keep up with. 

“Jaehyun, please.”, you whine out. Tired, sensitive, you’re on the bridge, only waiting for him to let you fall. 

“Please, what ?”, what he does next almost has you moaning. Leaning out of the mirror, his skin goes glossy again, just like in the frat house’s bathroom. Shining under the moonlight, his upper body’s so close. The same human like je ne sais quoi, one that has you leaning closer, closer to him. The coldest of his fingers, what you were thinking about seconds ago, you feel them again. In the dead of the night, skin burning, the entity places his hand right around your neck. He isn’t even pressing and yet, he manages to get your breathing uneven. “Please what, doll ?”, he asks again, almost archly. “Please, let me come, please.”, you beg, throwing any shame and dignity out of your opened window. Clearly appeased and glad by your words, the brunette lets his fingers press harder, harder. Cutting your airways, he tilts your head up, enough that you feel obligated to look at him. “Come on, make yourself cum.”

Face close, he’s millimeters away, lips brushing against yours but never does he kiss you. Keeping his right hand around your throat, his left hand guides your fingers, helping you, guiding you. “Pretty little thing.”, he coes the moment he feels you twitching. Pretty brown eyes set on you, he details, drinks in any one of your expressions. Under his gaze, you take minutes to hit it. Your orgasm is an intense one, crashes over your body, Jaehyun has to let you breathe. 

“There you go.”, voice soft, it sounds far, far away. You take minutes to come down, minutes for your mind to clear again. “Sht, it’s alright.”, you can hear the smirk in his voice and, before you can point it out, sleep knocks you out. 

Realization, it’s realization that crashes over you the next morning. Or rather, the next afternoon. It��s around one in the afternoon when you wake up, sunlight freely entering in your room. Birds, voices, cars, the city’s wide awake and shakes you up. Truthfully, you’d rather not wake up today.

Your gaze falls on your phone, battery intact and on, the multiple texts you have from your family makes you understand. You missed your train, great. Even better, you remember last night. Is it regret ? Rather something else you don’t understand. You don’t really regret what happened, rather fear what will happen next. Jaehyun isn’t human, not anymore at least. Stuck in a mirror, he’s bound to leave at some point. He’s an entity, doesn’t that clash with your morals ? 

Your brain goes miles an hour and you aren’t even able to stop it. Maybe, maybe a shower could help ? You need to get ready anyways. Family’s waiting, worried for you and here you are, stomach empty hanging a towel on the mirror of your bathroom.

What the fuck did you do ? That’s the question that keeps turning again and again in your head. But, it didn’t hurt anyone, right ? God, the grey area you’re in has you in a headache in minutes. Do you want him to leave, or not ? It’s a hard question, one you can’t answer, even at the end of your shower. Shouldn’t you want him to leave ? Isn’t he supposed to be a scary legend ? That’s the problem. He isn’t so scary, he isn’t so mean and cold. But again, he’s an entity. 

Tumbling in your bedroom, your hand runs in your hair out of pure frustration, passing back and forth in the hallway that connects your bed and bathroom, where Jaehyun cannot see you. It’s funny, you look like him now. Are you becoming like him ? Or worse, like Eric ? You don’t even have a wish right now. It’s then that you do what you’re best, or worse at doing, You act on impulse. 

Walking right in front of your mirror, you take a deep breath. You think the sweat gathering at your hairline’s going to ruin your makeup, the outfit you chose to wear isn’t appropriate for the weather. Anyways, you try your best a firm voice and call, “Jaehyun.” 

On cue, he appears. Slight smirk on his face, he looks too pleased, probably because of last night’s event. Is it a smirk or, a genuine smile ? That, you can’t really tell. The brunette told you, you were easy to read and before you can understand his emotions, he understands your own. His smile fades into something more serious, catching up. Something’s wrong. 

“Yes ?”, he asks, almost carefully. He never saw you like this, there’s a spark in your eyes he isn’t able to understand. Confusion, regret, fear, frustration ?

“I have my last wish.”, you tell him. Your heart’s heavy, for some reason. You shouldn’t be really, you think you found a solution to your problem, didn’t you ? “I want everything to go back to normal. Take back my popularity.”, you tell him in one go, once you have the courage to. 

For a second, you see amusement flashing in his eyes, like he’s about to make fun of your wish. Actually, he was about to, question you before he catches on. He catches on way too quickly. Amusement quickly turns to...Disappointment, anger. His eyes quickly travel from your eyes to a point in your room you can’t see, back to your eyes. Features twisted, his breathing slightly changes, so does the temperature in the room. 

“I know what you’re trying to do.”, it’s a growl, a dip in his tone that mimics the shift in the temperature, suddenly getting colder. 

The limp in your throat doesn’t help, cold sweat probably ruins your makeup as you try your best to keep your composure. 

“Jaehyun, it’s-”, you try, almost turning desperate. Your words get caught when he takes a step closer, you know he can and might lean out but he doesn’t do it, yet. 

“You’re trying trying to get rid of me.”, it’s laced with anger. Anger, venom and disappointment. It’s the lather that has your heart breaking. You’re human after all, it’s only natural that you feel bad about your decision. 

“I’m not trying to get rid of you ! It’s just that, after last night…”, you can’t even explain yourself, you’re unable to put words into your feelings. 

“I knew it, you’re like everyone else.”, he spits out. His nose crunches up, disgusted. The young man looks down at you, eyebrows furrow, lips twisting. “Using me.”, the words echo in your room, he uses every mirror to let you know. 

“Jaehyun, stop.”, you beg. You beg, tears in your eyes. Obviously, he doesn’t. He has it heavy on his chest, he’ll speak even if you don’t hear him. 

“Using me to get what you want, only to ditch me. Leave me. Forget about me.”, anger clear in his voice, it’s loud, louder than what a normal man could be. The slight fog around his body grows thicker, darker, almost threatening. Goosebumps on your arms, the shirt you’re wearing doesn’t help how cold you’re feeling. 

“I don’t want to forget you !”, you choke between tears, freely letting them fall down your cheeks. “You don’t understand ! You can’t - You can’t stay with me forever.” You hiccup, using your fingers to dry your tears. 

Jaehyun doesn’t answer, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down as he blinks slowly. Anger has his jaw tight, chest raising up and down at a steady rhythm. 

“I could’ve.”, he argues but it’s clear he half believes it. He couldn’t stay forever by your side, you wouldn’t be able to live your life in such a way. Shooting him a look that says it all, he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t continue. “You said your wish anyways. So be it.” 

Unlike last time, it isn’t as happy, isn’t as fierce. It’s abandonment, he has to anyways. The glow behind him changes, shifts. 

You can’t feel the changes of your wish right away. Jaehyun stays a cold face, almost refusing to look at you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding gets out in a sigh, your shoulders flopping down. 

Silence. Silence for seconds while he looks to the side. 

And suddenly, he turns around again, looking right into your eyes. “I have my wish, too.”, he says, coldly. 

Before you can even argue, help him find something, offer one yourself, he cuts you off. Letting his hand out of the mirror, he doesn’t even completely lean out.

Looking down at his hand, you already know. You know what he’s going to ask for. “Jaehyun…”, you try, voice small. You don't want to cry again, throat completely cut. 

“I want a dance, darling.”, he says, nickname sounding cold. You were expecting this wish, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d think that maybe, he wouldn’t want to let you go. Nonetheless, it still tightens you heart, makes it pound in your chest. 

If you could drop to your knees at this very moment, you would. But your body’s frozen, stuck in place. The plea you whisper isn’t of any use. You’re obligated to, before you even know it, your body’s pushed. 

Your hand lands in his, cold skin against your own. Touch gentle, he guides you towards him. 

To effortlessly move into another world, it feels like crossing a thin waterfall. You have to close your eyes when Jaehyun gently pulls your body towards the mirror. For a second, you don’t open your eyes, not knowing what to expect. Entire, pitch black room ? Jaehyun’s true appearance ? You don’t know, you can’t even begin to imagine. Your laced hands in the air, Jaehyun’s left hand placed itself in your back, classic position for a slow dance. “Y/N.”, he calls softly, too softly for the wish he just asked for. 

You look up. 

He looks normal, entirely human. No more glossy skin, you can see every small detail, every long lash, every freckle, deep dimples on each side of his lips. Milky skin, rosy lips. He doesn’t look as mad as he did previously, like having you right next to him managed to appease him. Unable to answer, you only look into his eyes. Even brighter, brown and golden sparks, the light he was lacking before is here, fully. He looks alive. When you don’t answer, a song starts playing, one you quickly recognise. Sway. It sounds far away, like a distant dream, it resonates. Only then, do you have the guts to look around. Jaehyun’s wearing the same clothes, around you, everything looks glossy. Glass walls without an edge, you could make the faintest outline of a castle, golden lights and pretty chandelier. Heavy, the pictures look wavy, like casted upon a distorted mirror. You can’t recognise not make anything else up. But, what takes you back, rips a gasp out of your lips, are the people. 

Dozens of people dancing, slowly to the song. They mimic you and Jaehyun’s movements as he guides you, makes you sway, bend under his expert hands. All those people dancing and yet, they all look empty. It’s only when your eyes fall upon a man, dressed in royal uniform that you understand. All these people, he trapped them all with him. 

You gasp and, as you’re about to question him, he speaks up. “Darling, look at me.”, he demands.

When you do, he meets you with a soft smile, comprehensive look in his eyes. “I understand, I understand why you did it.”, he starts. Finally, you’re the one to break him off. It’s clear he’s the one guiding your body, you don’t think you have any control over it at this very moment. He makes you dance in his makeshift castle, the only place he can rule over. 

“I didn’t know what do to.”, you confess. Do you want to leave him ? No. But the grey area it leaves you in keeps hurting your brain, thorns you apart every second. “My intentions were never to use you.”, you tell him, gulping down as you pass a couple twirling, clearly from different centuries. Jaehyun knows, the words he let out of pure anger, he did not think them one bit. After all, you didn’t even know what to wish for. “I know.”, he calmly says. Face close to yours, you don’t mind the proximity. “Enjoy the moment with me. Please, doll.” 

How can you truly enjoy the moment when you’re sure he’s going to trap you at any moment, have you stuck with him forever ? You almost lean into the idea, give in. You know this song well enough, the end is near and all you can do is look up into Jaehyun’s eyes. If he wants you here, you can not fight it. Can you ? 

The entity has his eyes closed, forehead against your own. Softly, he whispers out only for you to hear. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for making me feel love again.”, he starts. “But I can not be selfish.” Before you can let something out, his lips softly press against the bone of your cheek and, his hands let you free to move, moments before the end of the song. An arm in front of his, he bows down with a slight smile. It isn’t hard to see the sadness he isn’t hiding. “I guess this is a goodbye. Go, run.” 

You have well enough time and, when you understand that, you run, just like he asked. Heart pumping, you run, run towards the small frame where you can see the outline of your bedroom and, before you know it, the same waterfall. The sudden shift has you tumbling down, dropping to your knees. 

“Jaehyun !”, you don’t care about your voice right now, you scream loud enough. Down on the fall, facing your mirror, Jaehyun faces you again, squatting down like he loves to do. The same sad smile on his face. Your hand flat on the surface, you hit your mirror like you’re hitting a window. You see it, he’s facing, slowly. Translucid, it’s a question of seconds before he’s entirely gone. Then, when tears fill your eyes, an invisible hand twist your heart, you understand. 

Again and again, you tap on the glass.

“I’ll get you out, I promise !” 

[cheekygreenty]

I Know You part 2 - The Darkling x Reader

I knowwwww I took my time writing this but I think it deserves another part? Let me know 🥰

Read part 1 here.

You missed the warmth of the Little Palace and you hated that you missed Aleksander's warm embraces even more. As the tracker led you further up north, Alina and Mal reminisced on old memories and ultimately you stopped listening and kept to yourself, leaving you at the mercy of your own thoughts which were solely devoted to your intense betrayal. How could I of been so blind? You loved this man with your whole being and up until a week ago you would've gone to the ends of the earth for him and he had the audacity to lie to you. My Aleksander never existed, he was a figment of my imagination.

'Let's set up camp here.' Mal said putting his pack down with a wince. His shoulder was still badly wounded, your poor patching up did little to soften the pain. You pulled out your provisions and shared them with the others, thinking back as to whether selling the horse was a wise decision for mere hardtack.

'What do you think the General will do once he finds you with me?'' Alina never mentioned Aleksander's name and you guessed it was to avoid being questioned by Mal.

'Probably brand me a traitor and kill me.' You faced the truth head-on 'He was about to lock me away before I escaped and I'm guessing he's even angrier now.' You blurted as you chewed on the flavorless biscuit.

'Why are you here then? You can get away from Ravka, go to Ketterdam and never look back.'

'He'll find me, Alina. I might as well do something meaningful before I die.'

'What if he won't kill you?' Mal spoke up.

'I'd rather he did.' The thought of being Aleksander's prisoner struck a somber note in you and not for the reason they assumed. You didn't trust yourself enough to keep up your broken heart in Aleksander's presence for too long, that kind of love doesn't fade and around him, you were a slave to that emotion.

'We'll find the Stag and I can defeat him Y/N.' Alina sounded hopeful but at her words, you recoiled. Firstly, you knew she would fail, possibly killing Mal in the process but secondly, her statement ignited a brief spark of anger in you, a feeling of protectiveness for the man that was willing to take your life away from you. Stop being foolish. The man has killed countless times and will continue to commit atrocities in the name of power. You're better than that.

The rest of the night carried on as usual, Alina applying a salve to Mal's wound and you sitting against a tree, contemplating your life. Perhaps you should go to Ketterdam. You have connections there that would hopefully prevent you from becoming an indenture, but those connections could be used against you, a way for Aleksander to find you. Perhaps Novyi Zem would work for you. Alina and Mal had spoken about escaping there if she failed to defeat the Darkling, but you knew it was pointless. You had been by his side long enough to know there was truly no way you could hide and survive.

You know the parts of me that I showed you. His words echoed in your head as you tried to settle to sleep. Although you had uncovered his true face, you clung to his words like a lifeline. He showed you his loving side, he told you his name and his complicated relationship with Baghra, his mother. He trusted you with those things and he loved you, so he said. I do love you.

The tears came once again like they did every night. You had quickly come to understand that Alina and Mal were blind to your waterworks and were under the impression you hated Aleksander and wanted him dead as much as they did. If only they knew you fell asleep dreaming of his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings like he always did.

The snow was a thick blanket now as you approached the Fjerdan border. Mal was certain the Stag would be found any day now and with each passing moment spent dredging through the snow, you cursed your decision of coming with them. You haven't been of much use to the pair on the journey anyway, except letting the wind carry the smoke away when the fire was burning or blowing snow out from the trees when you settled for camp, but Alina insisted you were necessary. From Mal's behavior, you gathered he felt uneasy around two Grisha, so maybe Alina wanted you here to know she wasn't alone and her powers weren't strange.

You listening half-heartedly as she explained to Mal she was the one who needed to kill the animal but stopped when you heard a rustling in the distance.

'That way' Mal noticed too

'Hang on'

'What are you doing'

'I need to get closer to it' You blocked them out, your senses wholely devoted to watching the magnificent Stag. Saints, it's even more beautiful than I imagined it.

You saw her reach out and touch its snout, a light dome so bright erupting from their contact you shielded your eyes away. In doing so, you noticed the faint outline of a blue kefta in the trees, quickly heading for you.

'NO' you tried to block the shot but it was too late, the dome fell apart.

'The animal is not meant for you' Zoya bellowed as she fought to secure the stag.

You fought her in return, desperately attempting to knock her and the others off their feet but two strong hands caught you, restricting your movement.

'Take her' You heard his voice before you saw the contrast of his black attire against the snow. You fought against the soldier keeping you trapped, thrashing and kicking with all you could muster, completely ignoring the screams and shouts erupting from Mal and Alina.

He came to face you, eyeing you up and down, as if searching for any injuries. Even in the dark, you noticed the tiredness evident in his eyes with a hint of desperation. But no relief or love directed to you.

'Ivan, subdue her' was the last thing you registered before your eyes closed shut and deep sleep came over you.

***

You woke with a start, having felt no time pass in your dream-lacking slumber. The snow from earlier was replaced by lavish silks and drapes in a warm tent, his tent. You would recognize the eclipse sign from a mile away, especially on the embroidered cushion beneath your head or on the buttons of the coat you were donning. His kefta. He must’ve put it in you while you were passed out.

There were no cuffs around your wrists or restraints around your ankles as you lay in his comfortable cot surrounded by the sound of a crackling fire in the stove that always brought some level of comfort to you.

There was nobody in the tent with you, but you suspected a guard was posted by the entrance flap to ensure you didn't try anything stupid. You hesitated to get up. Will he be waiting for me? You didn't want to face him or fight him. The thoughts of a civil conversation with him withered away the more you reflected on your throbbing feeling of betrayal, but there was still that small voice in the back of your head, or rather your heart, that wanted to forget about everything and just lay with him like you did every night. The conflict caused you to cry yet again that night for exactly the same reasons as before.

You finally got up once the last tears dropped, your light footsteps carrying you over to the small fruit bowl sitting by the lamps. It was rewarding to taste the sweetness of a grape after so much time spent eating hardtack and hard cheese, all Saints willing, you'd never have to look at those things again. You heard the tent flap open and slowly, you turned to face Aleksander.

'You've been crying.' He observed and took off his heavy cape, laying it carelessly on the cot you had just slept in and standing away from you, keeping his distance although his own heart dropped to see you in such a state.

'Do you blame me?' Your voice was strong despite your appearance,

'I hope you are well-rested. The journey here mustn't've been very kind to you.'

'It was better than being your prisoner and rotting away in a cell in the Little Palace.'

'Do you really think so lowly of me Y/N?'

'I don't know what to think Aleksander.' You hugged his huge kefta closer to your body, enjoying being enveloped by his scent. Another thing that brought you comfort.

'I never lied when I said I love you.' His voice grew softer but you willed yourself to ignore it. The small voice told you to run up to him, kiss him, hold him and tell him you loved him too, but the logical part kept you firmly planted in your place.

'If I recall correctly, you said 'I love you but'...'

'You never stuck around to what I wanted to say next.'

'I doubt it would have fixed this.' You gestured to the lengthy space between your bodies and he took it as an opportunity to walk closer to you.

'Is there anything we can do to fix this?' He asked desperately and your heart leaped in your chest but it didn't last long as his hand caught your attention, The Stag.

The realization flooded over you with a jolt of pain for the second time in two weeks. Unable to hold it back, a bone-shattering sob erupted from you at the impending doom he was about to unleash on Ravka.

His eyes followed your own with anguish so obvious it hurt him, but he had to avert them fearing if he watched your pained expression any longer, he would rip out the amplifier himself without a second thought just to stop the heart-breaking sobs shaking your body. He reached out for you but stopped himself, the last thing she needed was his comfort of all people, he thought.

But you yearned for him despite the situation, so when he stepped closer once again, you rested your head on his chest still uncontrollably crying.

‘Why are you doing this’ your hands now held a deathly grip on his shirt, but all he could think about was the fact that you sought his touch out first, maybe there is some hope left.

‘For Ravka, for all Grisha.’ The answer felt automated and scripted but it was all that remained of his goal. There was nothing else, no one else, that would benefit from this except him and her.

He wrapped one arm around you and when you didn’t pull away, his other arm went to your waist, pulling you close and pressing his lips to the top of your head in an attempt to soothe you. Ironically, it had the exact opposite effect as you cried even harder because despite everything he’d done and everything he was about to do, you didn’t want to leave his side.

The conflict was rampant in your head and part of the shed tears were in an effort to calm your mind.

‘I’m going on a skiff journey across to Novokribirsk in a couple days. I wish for you to go back to the Little Palace.’ He spoke but didn’t loosen his comforting hold on you.

‘Why?’ You managed to croak out.

‘You want to come with me?’

‘I don’t know’

‘Let’s sleep. You’ve had a long day.’ He only briefly let you go to take off the kefta he placed on you earlier, but he was right back at your side as you settled against his chest on the cot. Although you had only just woken up from Ivan's induced sleep, your mind was tired from the self-hate your logical side spewed at you.

‘This is wrong. They’ll hate me for this.’ I hate myself for this.

‘If it is so wrong then tell me to go away. I’ll listen.’ You knew he would but you wanted him here with you.

‘Were you ever going to tell me?’

‘Yes. But I stopped myself after seeing how happy you were. I couldn’t bring myself to stop that.’

‘And look where it brought us. Look at me now.’ You raised your head from his chest and looked him in his onyx eyes. They radiated affection and forgiveness, both of which you were ready to give him. I’m a fool for this.

‘And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy Y/N.’ The determination in his voice pulled at your heart, for the next thing you knew your lips were on his, kissing him as if there was no tomorrow.

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[nightshade-minho]

-Embers- (2)

warnings: heavy-ish suggestiveness, future smut, themes of heartbreak and pain, mentioned parent death, jealousy, angry fathers.

wc: 5.7k

Heartbreak.

It's something you've thought about, in theory. You've wondered how it feels to be heartbroken, especially when you were younger, when almost everything was of interest to your curious brain. Could a heart break? What exactly did that mean? 

Mr Yang's novels were your first introduction to characters who'd gone through that pain. His books had described it as a perpetual feeling of hurt, one which a person would never get over. You wondered if it was even possible to experience pain like that. Pain so bad you felt your heart shattering.

You still remembered that day you thought about it properly for the first time.

***

You shut your book and looked over at Minho, who had been cloudgazing as he waited for you to finish it. Days like this were common. Minho would get you a new book every week, and the two of you would go to the lake and laze around in the sun. You often worried that Minho would find it boring to sit next to you while you read, having nothing to do. On the contrary, he was quite content with the way things were. He liked how warm the grass felt against his skin, and how calming the sounds of rippling water were as he rested his head against Aeracus’s side.

"Wow. That definitely didn't end on a good note." You shook your head, letting out a sigh and laying back.

Minho glanced up at you, sitting up slightly. "You finished it? So soon?"

"Mhm. I got a little too invested in the story."

"Ah. If I'd known you would read it this fast, I would have borrowed more than one from him."

"It's okay, I can wait a few days.' You say, your tone reassuring as you placed Mr Yang's precious book next to you on the grass, carefully. The man put great care into binding and writing his books, all by hand with no one to assist him. You didn’t want to be the one to soil his hard work.

"Good, cause I'm not going back there so soon. There's three girls who have basically set up camp outside Mr Yang's to catch a glimpse of me."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him. "You act like you're a celebrity or something. We get it, you have a lot of fangirls."

"And fanboys. Some of them are quite cute actually. Just last week a dude proposed to me."

"No way. He proposed?"

"Yeah." He let out a low chuckle. "I think I recognized him from the docks. Seen him once or twice, but I've never said a word to him. I felt bad though, he was actually pretty."

"You should have said yes." You pouted, holding back a giggle. "I've always wanted to be maid of honor at a wedding."

Minho shook his head, sitting up and scooting over. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you into him, so that the both of you were curled up against his sleeping dragon.

"Maid of honor?"

"Yeah! I mean, what's the point of having a best friend if you don't get to play that crucial role in their wedding?"

Minho sighed, looking over at you with a fond smile as he bit his cheek. "Oh Y/n, what am I going to do with you? Maid of honor." He chuckled again at the exaggerated pout you flashed him, poking his side. “What’s so funny?”

There was silence for a few minutes as he looked up at the sky, eyes running over a cloud that looked a little like a five-pointed star. Humming, he leaned in a little.

A short inhale before he whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it and making your hairs stand on end.

"I hate to break it to you Y/n, but you'll never be maid of honor at my wedding." He mumbled softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Cause you'll be the bride."

For a minute, a stunned look passed over your face as you comprehended his words. It took a whole 60 seconds for you to process, but soon you swatted at his hand, descending into a fit of hopeless giggles at his cheesy line. "Shut up!"

"Hey! I was being serious." he had an offended look on his face as he held your chin, making you face him again.

You looked at his expression and stopped, your cheeks flushing as you realized he meant it. Your heart was racing, your eyes blinking rapidly as your mushy mess of a brain tried to figure out what an appropriate, mature response would be.

Quickly you pushed him off you, stumbling to your feet and beginning to run. So much for being mature.

"Race you home!"

Minho watched you run, shaking his head and sighing to himself as he slowly picked himself up. If only you knew how sincere he was.

If only he knew your heart hadn't stopped pounding for the rest of the night.

Mr Yang's books had been the main contribution to your adolescent fantasies, to be honest. As the local librarian, he supplied you with a regular supply of books, but none were as satisfying as the ones he wrote himself. His writing was descriptive on another level, and pulled you in like no other author could. He was your greatest inspiration, which was why his description of heartbreak had been the one to stick with you the most, all the way to adulthood.

It was described as a lingering emotion in the back of your head, staying with you your whole life to remind you of what could have been. It was nauseating, painful and everlasting. He'd written about the emotion so intensively, that at the time you almost felt like you did truly know how it felt.

You were wrong.

Heartbreak, real heartbreak, was a lot less pain and a lot more emptiness. Yes, it did feel like all those things mentioned before- but there was more to it than that. Your heart, which had been brimming with excitement and happiness not too long ago, felt void. Dark, lifeless. It had been so sudden, so out of the blue that your emotions were a confused jumble.

Of course, there was pain too- agony, more like. Ripping through your entire being as you watched him kiss her cheek yet again. It was so all consuming, so terrifyingly excruciating.

You were across the dinner table by your father's side, the spoon in your hand held in a tight grip as you tried your best to avert your eyes from the sight. After all, you were currently sat at the table with three other chiefs and their families, as well as a few advisors and high ranking guards. You had to look refined and elegant, a person befitting the title of Ember’s heir- not a gawking, bitter girl staring at your once lover canoodling with his fiancée.

Finally managing to tear your eyes away, you let your eyes run over the guests that would be staying with you for the next few weeks. You reminded yourself that you were in no position to be a dejected, woeful and pathetic individual in front of all these important people. Appearances had to be kept up, or you would face dire consequences. Your father’s pride was hurt enough as it is, what with his daughter being the only one who couldn’t participate in the championships. You didn’t want to give him any more reasons to hate you.

Next to your father was the Aqua chief, his wife and their daughter- Minho’s fiancée. They were dressed in blue silks, dripping with sapphires and lapides lazuli. The royal blue draped around them was deep, the fabric clearly expensive and not too unlike the dress you were wearing currently. 

The Aqua heiress was the spitting image of her mother, both their faces round and their features pretty. She was dressed similarly to her parents, with a tiny diadem upon her brown locks, her gown objectively fancier than yours. She continued talking to Minho, the plate of food in front of her untouched.

Minho.

You hated how beautiful he looked, dressed in white and grey. His uniform was simple, all clean lines and crisp edges. It suited him perfectly, like it was made for him. Which it probably was. 

The two of them seemed to be in their own little world as Minho whispered something into her ear, making her giggle yet again. Your throat felt clogged. Blinking, you quickly looked away from them, your eyes landing on Minho’s father. He looked the same as he always did, except now slightly frailer. He was wearing the same uniform as his son, although he didn’t quite fill it out the same way. You chewed on your lip, glancing at him one last time before turning to the Terra family. 

The Terra chief was a rotund, pot-bellied man who had his attention completely focused on his plate, not contributing much to the conversation the three other chiefs were having. You couldn’t blame him, really- the maids had cooked up a delightful feast. You were sure you’d have devoured your entire plate by now if circumstances had been different. The empty feeling in your stomach was making it hard to savour the roast beef, which you reluctantly ate. 

He and his wife were both dressed in earthly, neutral tones combined with deep greens- and positively covered in every kind of jewel found under the Earth. The rubies on your dress looked like chili flakes in comparison to the twinkling emeralds and gems on the Terra family.

Their son, the Terra heir, looked just as miffed as you, to be honest. He wasn’t as bejewelled as his parents, wearing a shade of green that provided you comfort as you looked at him. It reminded you of the grass near the lake you and Minho once frequented.

He caught your gaze suddenly. Smiling, his heart-shaped lips curving upwards. He shot a glance towards Minho and his girl, and then back at you, raising an eyebrow.

You tried your best to smile back, or give him a knowing wink, or something. But all you could do was stare blankly, your emotions having been sucked out of you. You still failed to comprehend what had happened, your brain seemingly giving up on you and leaving you alone with nothing but your broken heart for company.

Soon enough, the smile melted away from the man's face, and he looked back down at his plate, a little dejected. You felt a flash of regret, fleeting however as you suddenly felt a sharp voice whispering in your ear.

You looked up in confusion at your father, who had previously been immersed in a conversation with Minho’s father and the Aqua chief. Now his face was right by your ear.

"Number one, stop staring. You’re lucky I’m the only one who noticed. Number two, stop by my office before you go to sleep tonight, okay? It’s important." He said, voice stern.

Gulping and nodding, you watched as he turned away, diving right back into the conversation he was having. What did he possibly want to talk about? You rarely talked to your father these days, unless arguments could be counted.

You spent the rest of the meal in contemplation, staring down at your plate. Your hand moved methodically, shoving food into your mouth without actually tasting anything; All you could taste was regret.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. Despite not looking up, her giggle still pierced your ears from time to time, stabbing you deep in the heart. You'd seen it...the way Minho had been looking at her. He'd once reserved such looks for you and you only. Turns out, every meaningful word he'd said back then were lies. Every promise of forever had been empty.

A small part of you reminded yourself that it wasn't his fault he was kicked out from your village. He’d thought you didn’t oppose your father, and simply watched as he and his father was humiliated. Were you being irrational in expecting him to have stayed single until he came back to you? Hell, was it stupid to think he could even bear to glance at you after what your father had did?

Life was unpredictable, nothing was written in stone. How could he even have known he'd ever be in the same room as you again?

No. Y/n, don't do this. Don't force yourself to make up excuses for him. The man had barely cast a glance at you since he arrived. His eyes had been cold and stony the only time you'd made eye contact. 

Besides, if he really knew you, he would have known you wouldn’t betray him like that. And if he really loved you, he would have waited. He wouldn’t have moved on so easily. 

It was still fresh in your mind, despite having happened a few hours ago, now. The way you’d felt your hopes and dreams shattering to the ground in a million pieces, all in a span of a few seconds. Your heart, vibrating so fast it was almost going to implode.

As you continued drowning in your emotions, reliving the pain you'd felt, you suddenly felt a pair of eyes burning into you, sharply. Confused, you looked up, expecting the Terra heir to be the one looking back at you.

It wasn't him.

Minho quickly looked away before you could react, going back to talking to the heiress. It had only been for a second, but you’d caught him.

He’d been staring. At you. For a second, the tiniest flash of hope lit up your heart. But it was gone quickly, as the Aqua chief started laughing boisterously at a question the Terra chief's wife had asked.

"Yes, Jisu and Minho are deeply in love, Calandra. Honestly. Why would they be getting married otherwise?" He smiled, looking over at the two who had stopped talking to listen.

"This one-" He ruffled his daughter's head, chuckling. "She was so smitten. Kept sneaking out past the border to meet him. Of course when I found out, I was more than happy to let them join hands. I couldn’t imagine a son better than Minho to marry my little girl."

"That's sweet." You glanced up at your father as he said the words. He seemed to be gritting his teeth in slight vexation, the annoyance on his face clear. At least, to you it was.

"The wedding will take place a month after the championships." Minho's father said suddenly, smiling proudly as he grabbed a glass of wine. "You're all invited, of course. It will take place at my village. Now, raise a glass for the happy couple!"

A few claps sounded as everyone at the table raised their glasses. You carefully avoided Jisu's shy smile and Minho's confident smirk, his arm wrapped around her shoulder firmly. As if she would break into a million pieces if he let go.

You hated that you knew exactly how he behaved when he was in love. And now you weren’t on the receiving end of his adoration. 

You weren’t used to this. 

Yes, you’d lived your life as normally as you could without him for the past few years...but this was different. He was right there, and yet he wasn’t yours. So close, but you couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t kiss his lips and tell him how much he meant to you.

Your eyes darted about as they tried to find an appropriate thing to focus your gaze on. You raised your glass like everyone else, downed the amber liquid a little faster than the rest. You refused to let yourself look at the two.

Your eyes landed on the Terra heir after a few seconds. You weren't completely sure what his name was, but you have a vague recollection of your father telling you everyone’s names. Of course, at the time you’d been too overcome with excitement to digest the information.

Felix? Yes, that was it.

He seemed sweet. Friendly, even. His smile was a little sympathetic as he looked back at you, and that threw you off. You decided to put a smile on your face immediately, trying to conceal the pain that you’d hoped wasn’t evident.

Your mind flitted back and forth as everyone’s plates gradually cleared up. What were you going to do after this? 

Originally, you'd been planning to go to Minho's room tonight. Fuck, you’d dreamed of how tonight would go for months now, ever since your father had told you the news. But how could you now? 

Everything was fucking disintegrating.

***

You walked down the hallway to your father's office, your heels clicking against the stone slabs. Your dress was starting to feel itchy, and you couldn’t wait to take it off. You resentfully recalled how excited you’d felt when your maids had helped you into it. How all you could think about was Minho seeing you in it. You’d never expected him to barely acknowledge you.

Sighing, you passed through the hallway, stopping when you heard a high-pitched giggle come out of nowhere.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glanced around you in confusion. 

Another laugh, this one deeper, followed by what seemed like a...moan?

The pain came back full force, hurtling through you and overtaking you completely. As you walked, the sounds started to feel closer. You wished you could cover your ears to block them out, but at the same time you were consumed with curiosity. Was it what you think it was?

Suddenly, you heard another sound. Now, it was clear where they were coming from.

The sounds were from beyond the door that led to your father's old bedroom, the one he used to share with your mother before she died. You frowned, puzzled as you walked closer to the door.

Had he really given away that room to Minho and his fiancée? It hadn't been used in years, and had always been covered up and inaccessible. Even the maids weren’t allowed to clean in there. It was the biggest bedroom in the house, and the thought of it occupied by them was causing fresh tears to prick at your eyes. 

You felt the lump in your throat make itself more prominent, blinking rapidly as your heart pounded. Suddenly, your legs started moving of their own accord.

Before you knew it, you were stood in front of the large door, your hand raised and knocking firmly on the gilded wood as you swallowed.

There was complete silence for a second or two, but then there were scrambling noises, along with the sound of rustling bedsheets. You tried to calm the beating of your heart, as you waited for the door to open.

When it finally did, you felt like your heart was almost about to burst out of your chest.

She was the one who opened it. She was clearly half naked, having pulled on a blue robe hastily. Running a hand through her hair, she greeted you, her voice a little shaky.

"Oh- um, hello…” She pressed her lips together, glancing behind her for a second. You followed her gaze, to Minho on the bed.

He was shirtless, his hair messed up and his eyes carefully trained on the wall beside him, away from you. You swallowed again, tears threatening to spill past your eyes as you quickly tried to turn your attention back to the woman in front of you.

Too late. She'd noticed. She frowned at you, subtly moving to the side a little to cover Minho from your view.

"I know we haven't formally met yet. I'm Choi Jisu, the Aqua heiress. I’m sure you know." She smiled, albeit a little forced. "And I did want to thank you for letting us stay-"

There was an impatient grunt from behind her, and she looked behind back briefly before turning to you once more.

"Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but I was kind of in the middle of something. Sorry." She tried her best to hide her smile, her voice heavily insincere. “Let’s talk later, Y/n. And maybe next time you won’t be interrupting anything.” She smiled, beginning to close the door.

"Later." 

You just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing how to reply. Your face was passive but your brain was overrun with thoughts. The tears would spill any minute now. 

She frowned at your reaction, tilting her head before gently shutting the door in your face.

You just stood there for a moment. You could hear Minho's voice, muffled as he said something to her.

A part of you wanted to press your ear to the door and listen, but you already looked pathetic enough to the guards standing in the hallway, one of them already having flashed you a sympathetic look. You were really having enough of all this fucking sympathy.

Sighing, you dragged your feet away, trying to push everything down, but to no avail. There were too many enotions, and they were too heavy to even let you think. 

You thought back to her behaviour. You'd definitely picked up on her attitude, which had soured after she’d caught you looking at her fiancé. Jisu wasn’t a fan of you, that much was clear. And neither was the person who’d once declared himself your biggest fan. Ironic, really.

***

“Who was at the door?” Minho asked carefully, although he’d already seen you. Standing there, looking at him. 

You’d looked smaller, vulnerable. So, so different. Almost alarmingly so.

He tried to best to keep his tone even, eyes trained on Jisu as she slunk back to the bed, having shut the door.

“The Ember heiress.” She said, a slight sting to her tone. “Why do you think she came?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I...don’t know.” Minho muttered, staring at the bedsheets. His heart was clenching, hands starting to shake a little. 

No. Not in front of Jisu.

“Weren’t you two ‘best friends’ once?” She asked carefully, having picked up on his icy behavior. Jisu knew, of course. Despite Minho and you trying to keep it a secret, at one point the entire village came to know the two of you were in love. The information had even spread across the village, to others. 

Of course, the chiefs were the only ones who’d been clueless, only finding out after they’d been separated.

Minho scoffed, shaking his head. He gestured to her, hooking his fingers under his boxers to pull them down. “Forget that. Come back here, baby.”

Jisu raised an eyebrow, looking like she wanted to say more. However, Minho’s almost naked body was difficult to resist.

Shrugging, she slid her robe off, letting the silk fall to the floor as she straddled him. His hands ran up her hips, watching her, feeling her. 

His brain, however, felt like it was a million miles away.

***

The tears ran down your face. You were no longer able to hold them back. Realizing you were probably about to break down in the middle of the hallway, you walked faster towards the office- 

Until you bumped into someone on the way, almost knocking them over.

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Felix chuckled, holding onto your arms to keep you on your feet.

You looked up at him, blinking as you registered what you’d just done. “Fuck- I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled, realizing his hands were still on you. He quickly took them away, tucking them into his pockets. His cheeks were dusted a light pink as he cleared his throat, looking at you in concern.

You quickly wiped away your tears, but Felix had unfortunately already noticed.

“Hey, are you okay? I noticed... I noticed you didn’t seem so happy at the dinner.” He said softly, looking down at you. 

You remained silent, staring at the floor as you wondered how to reply. You didn’t want to seem any more pitiable than you already were.

“Uh, it’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. I’m sorry if I overstepped.” He shook his head, stepping back slightly. His voice was almost more nervous than yours. “Um, I’ll leave you be now. Sorry-”

You looked up, sighing. “Wait…” 

Felix looked back, an expectant, almost hopeful look on his face. You didn’t want to let him down, you really didn’t...but it was difficult to pretend like you were okay. You were shivering, biting on your lip. You already felt humiliated enough.

“Sorry. I...I need to go, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, quickly walking away from a bewildered Felix. As soon as you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall as your body shuddered. 

You’d never cried like this, not even when Caeli had died. Not even when Minho had left, because back then you’d still possessed some kind of hope. Hope that just wasn’t there anymore.

Rubbing your cheeks, you managed to get rid of the tear stains. You hoped your eyes weren’t too red- you weren’t ready for any comments from your father today. Breathing in, you continued walking, still massaging your eyes in a desperate bid to get them dry.

You groaned as you noticed you’d reached your father’s office quicker than you thought you would. Inhaling deeply, you tried to pull yourself together. You really didn’t like showing weakness in front of him, but lately that was all you did.

You knocked on the door carefully, waiting for him to open the door.

“Door’s open, come in.”

You pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping in.

"Y/n. Finally. Where have you been?"

"Nowhere important." You said quickly, clearing your throat. "Um... you said you wanted to see me, dad?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes." He rearranged the files on his desk quickly, standing and coming over to lean on the front of his desk. He sighed, screwing his face up in thought as he wondered where to start.

"I can’t believe Lee really scored a marriage for his son. Do you know what this means? A heir marrying an heiress? They'll possess power we can’t even begin to imagine." He paced back and forth, clenching his fists in barely concealed anger. You rolled your eyes slightly. Of course your father thought it was a ploy to gain power. He’d never believed in love, and most probably never will.

“So?” 

"So? So?!” He shook his head. “See, this is exactly why the villagers think you’re too incompetent.” He glared, making you cower. Your heart pounded quicker, your lips pressing together. No more tears, you had to control them.

“Look, Y/n...I’ll put it plain and simple. Ember has been the most powerful for centuries. We’ve always had the strongest dragons, and the sturdiest men. Our village is the largest in the country, and all eyes are on us.”

He pinched his forehead. “Do you know how embarrassing it is that Ember’s heiress, the one who should be the most powerful of all, is nothing but a lovesick, pathetic little girl who doesn’t even have a fucking dragon to compete with?!”

You blinked, sniffing as you stared at the floor. You could always count on your father to reinforce negative emotions. His eyes burning into you, chest heaving in anger. 

He sighed, watching as your shoulders shook slightly. Softening a little, he inhaled. It always went that way. He’d blow up at you, and subsequently regret it. He couldn’t take back anything he said, though.

“Sorry, child.” You remained silent, looking up a little. His face seemed sincere enough.

“Hm. I have an idea..." He mumbled, placing a finger on his chin. You could almost see the cogs and gears turning in his brain.

"What did you think of Felix? Nice boy, isn't he?"

You frowned at your father's words, his expression seeming innocent...but his intentions clearly weren't.

"The Terra heir?" You asked, sighing. "He seems nice. Why are you asking?"

"No reason." He shrugged, fiddling with the Ember figurine on his desk.

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "Dad...don't tell me you want to marry me off to him."

"What?? No!" Your father shook his head vehemently, still playing with the figurine and avoiding your eyes. "I was just thinking. Uh-"

He looked back at you and sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. But...just consider it, okay? An arranged marriage...an alliance between Ember and Terra could be phenomenal."

You pursed your lips, flashes of Minho and Jisu running through your head as you thought it over. Fuck it, why not? It wasn’t like you had any reason to oppose him. "Fine, dad. I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising anything. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s interested in me."

"I saw the way he was looking at you from across the table, child. He definitely has some curiosity, at the very least.” He hummed. “Anyway, that's actually not why I called you here."

You raised an eyebrow, confused as he went back to his seat, sitting down and pulling up a large, dusty book.

"Look...I'm worried. There's something ominous about this. Their marriage...it poses too many conveniences and benefits for both the chiefs to be a mere coincidence.”

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

He looked to be deep in thought. When he heard you speak, he snapped back to attention, shaking his head. "I’m not sure yet. Now, even if I managed to convince Farran to get his child married to you, it still doesn’t provide us power directly. Without a dragon, it’s likely they’ll make you reside in the Terra village once this is all over.” He hummed, looking like he was talking to himself rather than addressing you. “No...we need a reason to make you stay here. You’re an Ember heiress, the future chief of this legendary village. However, you definitely need to look the part. You need to prove to everyone that you’re powerful, Y/n. Shatter their expectations...and mine.” He smiled, gesturing for you to come closer.

 “I was wondering...do you want to participate in the championships?"

Your eyes widened impossibly, your words stuttering as you moved forward. You couldn’t believe your ears, not one bit. It sounded too good to be true.

“Wait- really?”

“Yes.”

“But...but I don’t have a drag-”

“You can participate with Aeracus.”

No. No way. For the first time since the welcoming, you felt true happiness overtake you. Jumping, you squealed in delight, barely able to hide your glee. “Oh my god, thank you, dad! Thank you so so much.”

He chuckled as he watched you, flipping a page. “This has never been done before, so expect some backlash. I’m sure once they see the bond you have with Aeracus though, they’ll change their minds.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your father, the most skeptical dragon purist the world had ever seen, was acknowledging your bond.

“But...what about Minho?”

“Aeracus is no longer his dragon, Y/n. He has a new one.” Of course, you’d noticed. The huge black dragons he and his father had been riding. You felt a sensation of unease drift through you as you thought about the creatures, the likes of which you’d never seen before. 

New lover, new dragon. He’d really left this place behind.

“Something’s off about those dragons.” He voiced the exact same concern you had. “They’re up to something. I just don’t know what.” He turned back to his book, taking his quill back up. “I’ll find out, though. Somehow. Now, go to sleep, kid. You have a big day tomorrow, now that you’re actually participating.”

You nodded, excitement coursing through your veins. “Sure, dad. Have a good night.” You bowed and turned around, your steps a lot lighter as you headed to your room, which was close by.

Reaching your room, you pushed open the door, smiling as you noticed Sylvia fast asleep at your dressing table. Moving slightly closer, you gently nudged her awake.

“Wha- I-” She shot up, mouth open as she bowed to you. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I was just arranging and-I’ll help you out of your dress, now-”

“Sh, it’s okay. Tonight’s been tiring. You deserve the rest.” You said sadly, patting her shoulder as a yawn left your mouth. “Go to sleep, and don’t come by tomorrow. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself. I want you to relax, okay? Head to the docks, or buy yourself some bread in the square.” You opened a tiny drawer and handed a few coins to her, enough to get some sweetbread from the bakery.

She nodded thankfully. “You’re the best, ma’am.” She giggled, accepting the coins from you. 

“What have I told you about calling me ma’am? We’re the same age, Sylvia, it makes me uncomfortable. It’s Y/n to you.”

“Fine. Y/n.” She smiles, heading to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

You grinned widely at that. You loved how easygoing she was, unlike Ann, your head maid. You weren’t royalty, and hated being treated as such. A friend was all you needed, to be honest. And Sylvia managed to fill the best friend sized hole Minho had left behind, somewhat. 

She closed the door behind her, and you sighed, flopping down onto your soft bed and beginning to slip off your heels and the heavy dress, carefully placing it on a rack. The moon shone extra bright today, and you noticed the streets outside were still lit up with lanterns. Soon, they’d be turned off, and the streets would be quiet once more, except for a few drunken stragglers that didn’t want to stop celebrating.

And you would be left alone with your thoughts.

You slid yourself underneath your covers, sighing as you stared at the moon. In the distance, you could see a few dragons and their riders, flying through the air. They were quite far away, possibly near the outskirts. 

Tomorrow, you’d be able to ride Aeracus like that, after so many years. Every time Minho had let you climb atop his dragon, it had just felt like it was meant to be. Deep down, you felt bad, though...for Caeli, for Minho. However, it was just the plain truth.

You smiled as you decided to buy Aeracus a bunch of treats tomorrow. Ostrich eggs, phoenix meat- you were planning to go all out. He deserved it, after all.

In a way, tonight had possibly been the worst night of your life, and simultaneously the best. Your heart felt pulled in two, as you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

You had a big day tomorrow.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

What they call home pt. 4|7 - Underlying feelings [Sirius Black x Reader]

Title: What they call home pt. 4|7 - Underlying feelings Pairing: Post Azkaban!Sirius Black x Female!Lestrange!Reader Word count: 1.5k Published: 12 November, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: This was written for @wand3ringr0s3​ ‘s writing challenge and also for a request I have received on Wattpad. It was supposed to be a one shot, but it turned into a series somehow. I have been getting carried away these days.

Disclaimer: I have dug myself very deep into the Black and Lestrange family just to make sure that there were no incest in the story. I went back 300 years, until 1700 and I can confirm Blacks have not been related to the Lestranges, except Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) marrying Rodolphus Lestrange around 1968-70, pre-Wizarding War I. 

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

What they call home Masterlist 

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Weeks passed by and Sirius and you started to warm up to each other. You still liked to rile each other up, but it has become more comical than annoying and you slowly started enjoy his company more and more.

As the order meeting of the day finished, you sat down with some of the members for a team building dinner to quote Albus. You have considered leaving and spending the rest of the night in your room, the suspicious gazes giving you a chill, but as soon as you headed out of the dining room, Sirius got hold of your wrist and stopped you.

“Stay.” He spoke, the room quieting down around you. You looked at the man as a small, inviting smile spread across his face, your heart taking on a faster pace, your wrist heating up where he held onto you.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You breathed as you finally ripped your eyes away from the man and looked around the room. Albus was more than happy with your presence, whilst Molly gave you an apologetic, but approving look, her husband Arthur offering you a sweet smile. Nymphadora seemed a bit sceptical, but you could see she wasn’t against you joining them whilst Remus didn’t seem to mind as he has gotten used to your presence. However, Mundungus Fletcher, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore looked as though they wished you to disappear even from planet earth.

“Come, dear join us.” Molly quipped in as she placed another batch of cutlery and plates on the table right beside Sirius’ spot and from across her. You looked up at Sirius one more time in anticipation of an unspoken confirmation. He nodded and placed a hand behind your back, leading you forward, right beside the head of the table.

You tried to ignore how his proximity affected you, how his long fingers spread across your back caused tiny goosebumps to appear on your arms and neck, how his silent whisper of “It’s going to be fine” reassured you more than you wished it had.

You took a seat beside him and as everyone started eating an uncomfortable silence fell on the group of people, the only noise audible came from the cutleries and loud chewing.

However, the silence didn’t last long. People slowly fell into a conversation with each other. You overheard them mentioning something about an upcoming mission, but you couldn’t pay attention as Molly has averted your attention from the subject.

“My dear, how have you been feeling in this lovely house?” Molly said in a mocking tone from Sirius’ other side, which earned a rather annoyed groan from him. He didn’t necessarily have the best memories of the place, but it was still a home to him. You chuckled at his reaction, before you replied to Molly.

“I have been enjoying my time here to be honest.” You nodded as you took a spoonful of soup from your plate.

“I’m hoping Sirius hasn’t been causing you much trouble?” She asked as she sent a cheeky wink towards you.

“Well, he isn’t as insufferable as before, but still fairly annoying.” You replied matter-of-factly.

“I’m right here, don’t mind me.” Sirius shook his head as he took a bite of his chicken.

“We clearly don’t mind, Sirius.” You retorted with a soft giggle, which earned an eye roll from the man, but he couldn’t stop the soft smile from spreading across his face.

“Sirius, huh? Are we on a first name basis now?” He chuckled.

“Would you like me to call you Black?” You asked, but he quickly shook his head. “Then hush.” You giggled lightly, your eyes darting back to Molly.

“I’m glad you are getting along. I remember the first day you arrived, you were about to jump at each other’s throats.” She chuckled at the memory.

“I still feel like jumping at him on occasions.” You giggled, but it quickly died down as Sirius leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear, your face heating up at the proximity.

“Or on me.” He whispered. You felt your face burn under his seductive words, your heartbeat quickening in your ribcage as the air stuck in your lungs.

“Khm.” You cleared your throat, but no words left your lips. They just didn’t seem to want to come.

“Cat got your tongue, darling?” He teased, his breath beside your neck making you shiver. You were beyond flustered, you didn’t know how to react, so you chose the best option you knew. Pain. You quickly stepped on his foot under the table, causing the man to whine in pain. The table fell silent at the unexpected sound leaving the man’s lungs, but you wore the most innocent expression you could muster. “Why did you do that?” he asked, but you just shook your head.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You shrugged with an innocent smile painted across your face. You turned towards Molly to continue your conversation, but the woman wore a playful grin and a suspicious gaze as she studied you and Sirius with her knowing eyes.

Sirius sent a deadly stare towards you, but you didn’t mind. You smiled innocently and continued the dinner as if nothing happened. But inside, inside you were craving more from him, to be closer to him, to be able to touch him. You knew you shouldn’t have such thoughts of him, but you couldn’t control the way you felt around him, the thoughts his mere presence caused you to have.

You didn’t want to think of the thoughts you had, but you couldn’t get them out of your head. How your hand would get lost in his big palm, how his growing stubble would feel against your skin, how his kiss would taste on your lips. You knew you were not supposed to have these thoughts, but you couldn’t control your curiosity.

The dinner didn’t last long, the order members disappeared quicker than you expected. Sirius has already gone up to his room, leaving you to walk the rest of the members, Arthur and Molly Weasley towards the exit.

“Could you please wait for me outside?” Molly asked her husband and whilst both Arthur and you were confused by the woman, he did as he was told and stepped outside.

“Is everything okay?” You asked the woman as you have been left alone and she let out a single laugh.

“Of course, dear. I was just wondering how long it has been going on.” Molly watched you with the most curious gaze you have ever seen from her.

“I’m sorry, but you are going to have to give me more details.” You stared at her in surprise.

“Oh hush, darling. You know exactly what I mean.” She gave you a knowing look, but you were still confused and perhaps Molly realised it too as she finally continued. “I meant you and Sirius.” Your eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected words.

“Molly, I think you misunderstood something. There is nothing between us.” You quickly shook your head and lifted your hands, waving them in front of you, gesturing your innocence. She frowned as she watched your panicked expression, knowing full well that you were honest with her.

“Are you trying to tell me that my eyes have lied to me?” She questioned with a sceptical look. “That you don’t have feelings for him?” You wanted to deny it, you wanted to tell her that her eyes have misled her, but how could you. You would have lied to yourself if you said you didn’t see something in the man, that you didn’t feel like you needed to be around him, that his presence didn’t affect you in ways no one ever had.

Molly always had an eye for couples, one could call it a sixth sense, but for her it was second nature. She was a good observer and when people were obvious, she didn’t even have to take a second glance at them to understand the underlying feelings.

“Was I that obvious?” You asked as you let your head fall forward in defeat.

“Both of you were.” She giggled softly. Your eyes shot up as a playful glint appeared in Molly’s. Your lips parted involuntarily, the information surprising you. You hoped all along that it wasn’t just you who felt the connection between you, the little spark ready to ignite the fire within you. “If there’s any progression, I’m still only an owl away, waiting eagerly.” She chuckled, which made you grin as you awkwardly scratched the back of your neck.

“We will see, Molly. We will see.” You replied, trying not to jinx your luck.

You waved goodbye to the Weasleys before you walked up the stairs and started off to your room. Each time you headed to your temporary accommodation, which slowly started to feel more and more like home, you passed Sirius’ room in the hallway. This was no different. You couldn’t stop yourself from halting for a moment, placing your hand on the door as if you could feel him closer to you.

You weren’t sure how right Molly was, but you were hoping that her eyes were truly seeing something blossom between you and Sirius. You couldn’t deny how much you needed him, how much you wanted him, and you were wishing nothing more, but to feel him close to you and for your feelings to be reciprocated.

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[hufflesmonsters]

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job. 

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go. 

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his. 

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that. 

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats. 

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name. 

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack. 

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it. 

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him. 

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them. 

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace. 

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight. 

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded. 

Oh, oh gods… 

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort. 

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly. 

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again. 

“No, m'lord.” 

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.” 

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all. 

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is. 

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea. 

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc. 

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways. 

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet. 

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her. 

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not. 

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life. 

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise. 

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case. 

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore. 

  “Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places… 

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was. 

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed. 

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend,  when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself. 

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?” 

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.” 

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back. 

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here. 

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk. 

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods. 

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl. 

It felt… welcoming. 

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads. 

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter. 

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule. 

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed.  “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf. 

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed. 

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered. 

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie. 

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?” 

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.” 

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur. 

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that. 

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly. 

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?” 

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home. 

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary. 

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally. 

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor. 

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him. 

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him. 

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either. 

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s. 

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight. 

Pufort. 

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips. 

Fuck was right. 

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t. 

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be. 

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy. 

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home. 

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day. 

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

[mintmatcha]

9 months, 28 days

Chapter 3 of 10 Months

CW: discussions of death

A/N: this is the end of the beginning! im not sure exactly how long this stories going to be but yolo

The cafe is almost empty, just like always. That’s why they loved this place so much as kids. No one they knew was ever here, sitting in the mothball scented booths- only the occasional elderly couple who didn’t give a fuck that the place hadn’t updated it’s decor since 1995. Clouds rolled in overnight, painting the town a somber grey. Mattsun feels like it should match his mood, but it doesn’t. He’s not sad, he just… is. There’s this weird, turbulent void in his chest where his despair should lie.

Hanamaki’s in the corner when he arrives, nestled into the booth with a mug. He watches the rain trickle down the window, tracing the paths of the drops with his finger tips. It’s very ‘white girl protagonist’ Mattsun decides. Like he’s the star of a Hallmark movie. The void in his chest pulses and he swears, just for a flash, it was warm.

“Hanamaki.” Mattsun slides in across from him.

“Well, lookie here at the big boy in his big boy suit.” Hanamaki taps his nails against the glass, not even looking at his friend. “Did your mom help you pick that out?”

“This is technically a business meeting, so I had to wear something nice.” he explains. “Or else my boss is going to think I’m just screwing around.”

That’s what it feels like. It feels like work. He’s just putting all of this into his little box, so he can file it away in the storage files of his mind. He’ll process it later, when the moment’s right.

Or never.

Makki tents his fingers together, like he’s some sort of super villain. He’s always had this casual, uncaring air about him, but it seems to have developed further into a chaotic mess. “Ah, so you’ve decided to plan my fun-eral.”

The black haired man sighs. “Only if you stop calling it that.”

The waitress wanders up, expecting orders in her typical, unfriendly way. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume it was the same woman from years ago, still equally sick of her job.

Neither of the men look at the menu. Mattsun orders a cheeseburger omelette and a coffee with six sugars, the same horrible thing he’s been getting since high school. ‘The American Experience’, they called it. Makki orders plain toast, notably not the same thing he’s been getting since high school.

“You should eat more,” Mattsun says, “You’re too thin.”

“Who are you? My mom?” he takes a long swip from his mug,

“If I was, I wouldn’t be-” Mattsun stops himself, much to Makki’s delight.

“Oh, please make a dead mom joke. Please.” Makki’s on the edge of his seat, leaning halfway across the table, “My mom would have loved you making a joke about her.”

Mattsun slinks down so far that his knees pump against the booth across from him. “That’s… yeah, you’re right. She would have loved it.”

Mattsun wants to say he misses her, but it doesn't seem fair. To miss Hanamaki Hana would be to miss Hanamaki Takahiro, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to miss Hiro.

Makki looks exactly like his father. He's there in the too thin nose, the gap between his canines and molars, and the clubbed way their fingernails grew.

but his mom's in his idiosyncrasies. She's in the laughter, the winks, the tiny things that make Takahiro himself. Truly a mama's boy, Makki taps his cup against his front teeth the same way she did. It's their thinking face.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Mattsun regains control. His notebook and reading materials jut out against his stomach from their spot in his coat.

“Are you really sick?” It surprises both of them. Maybe it was the thought sitting at the top of his head, maybe he meant to say it. All of this just feels too sudden, too random, Mattsun just can’t quiet his doubts.

This is why the time apart was good; Makki made him do stupid things, made his brain stop working.

“I- uh. Yeah.” Makki's face doesn't change, but his shoulders fall. The tension in his body deflates as he goes back to looking out the window. "You're such a dick."

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You really think I’d lie about all of this?” he laughs, but it's flat, "To do what? To crawl back into your life?"

"That's not what-"

"Newsflash, asshole- I've been doing great without you.” the mug slams against the table, “I've been really, truly, wonderfully happy since-"

The other man picks up one of the pieces of toast and examines it, before carefully ripping the crust off. It’s a delicate procedure, carefully peeling off the edge on one, long piece. Makki opens his mouth to continue, then closes it with a low, thoughtful hum as he rolls the crust into a little ball.

"Makki." Mattsun holds up a finger, pausing the conversation for a moment as the waitress approaches. They sit in silence, mumbling only a quiet thank you as she

drops off the plates. She doesn't seem to notice the tension in the air or if she does, she doesn't care. She pours the coffee carefully, counts out the sugar packets like she's rationing them. As soon as she turns, he sighs and curls his hand into a tight fist, holding it in the air for a second before letting it fall. "Continue."

“This was a dumb idea. Forget I even asked you to do this.” he tosses the bread ball into his mouth and chews, “I’m just gonna go.” Standing suddenly, he grabs his coat from the booth beside him.

This would be the third time he let Makki leave and, according to the time left, the last. Life is fickle, an unpredictable lace pattern made by the people in your life coming and going. Mattsun was used to dealing with the final goodbyes and usually found comfort in it. No more chapters to write, all secrets buried and forgotten- truly, nothing left but what you can see in rose colored glasses.

And yet some part of him- the stupid part, the crazy part, the self loathing part- panics at the thought of seeing this end.

"I know you're better without me." Mattsun sighs, "But I want to help you, if you'll still let me."

“Stop.” Mattsun’s heart pounds so hard, dancing across his skin, that he can barely recognize he’s touching Makki, holding his wrist down against the table. “Sit. Eat."

Makki just raises a brow.

Reluctantly, he complies, but not before he tugs his hand out of his friend's grasp, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a sneer. A boundary has been set- no touching.

"I'll let you." he turns his attention back to the mangled food on his plate, "But only because I want to finish my toast."

"We good?" They are not, but Mattsun prays for a lie.

"For now. But watch yourself." It's a win, albeit a half hearted one. Mattsun pulls a tiny notebook from an inner pocket of his coat and flips through the pages until he reaches the last page; it's the farthest out thing he's planning, of course. It’s marked ‘The Hanamaki Service.’

They let the silence sit between them as they pick at what’s in front of them. The terrain of this relationship is uneven, constantly changing. It’s like hiking a mountain in the winter, Mattsun decides, one wrong move, one noise too loud, and the whole thing will come crashing down,

Why does he even care?

Makki’s happy without him, he’s fine without Makki.

He shouldn’t care, and yet he stays.

The black haired man stabs a hunk of egg and watches the half melted cheese try to stretch. “So, to put it all simply: what our home does for you is the basics: Legal procurement, transportation, preparation, and disposition- you don't have to worry about any of it. We also offer a location for interment and service, depending on the type of service you require, of course."

"Location?"

Mattsun takes a bite. "For the service and for you to, um, rest."

"You mean rot."

Maybe eating wasn’t the right choice for this conversation. The texture of egg now feels wrong in his mouth.

"Don't say it like that." The preservatives slow that down, so the rot won't happen for a long time, he brain reminds him. It doesn't help.

"I already have those places picked out though." Mattsun waits for a joke to follow, but he’s surprised when his friend says, "Bury me near my mom and hold the service here."

"Here?" Mattsun asks, “There’s nicer places.”

"Save a dying business with a dead guy. It's irony."

"Okay, well. That's-" he sighs and scribbles into his notebook. This wasn’t going to be a traditional job, was it? "At least the catering is done then."

"Perfect." Makki pushes away his empty plate, "I'm a natural at this. You should hire me.”

"Long term positions only, sorry." It slips out before Mattsun can censor himself, but Makki just snorts into his tea.

It’s frustrating that they click together so well, especially because nothing’s been resolved between them. One minute everything threatens to break, the next they can sit here and joke with each other. The issues sit there, waiting in the corner of the room, cocked and ready to fire. If they just didn’t look, maybe it wouldn’t hurt when it finally attacked.

If they didn’t look, maybe they can pretend nothing happened.

Mattsun reminds himself that he doesn’t care. There's still that blank space inside him.

“Next step would be flowers.”

It’s not. They should discuss embalming versus cremation, but the words stick to his throat. He’s asked so many times before, stared forward as loved ones debated what to do without a care in the world. This time shouldn’t be different.

“I’ll think about it. Can’t say I know too many flowers off the top of my head.” Makki digs his phone from his front pocket and scrolls, looking through everything before tapping out a quick question. There's a twitch of his brow, barely furrow, but it's gone in a flash. Before Mattsun can even ask, Makki's gathered his coat in his hands. “Gotta go.”

“What? We just started-” The whiplash is what hurts. Just as Mattsun feels like he's found his footing, it's gone again, slipping out from under him. This must be some level of hell

"Something came up." he shrugs, "Don't worry about it."

"I won't."

"You're such an asshole." he says, "You're supposed to at least pretend to care."

Yeah, he knows. That's how life works. But he can't just pretend; it's a gateway to actually feeling.

"I'll try." Mattsun offers, "It was nice to see you."

Makki rolls his left shoulder over and over again, like he's trying to work out a kink. "Was it? Was it really?"

"Kind of."

"Thanks," there's a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "We'll do this again."

And like that, with no formal goodbye, he just starts to leave. Mattsun wants to protest, but he’s grateful. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been, how hard he'd been digging his fingers into his thigh. The void in his stomach somehow feels smaller and larger all at once. He kind of wishes it would just swallow him up and this would all be done with.

It's so easy not to care.

“Oh, and Mattsun?” Makki pauses by the door and picks out a familiar black umbrella that was leaning against the doorframe. He twirls in in his fingers like a baton before pressing the button and letting it unfold. It's bad luck to open an umbrella inside. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Mattsun just looks down at the table. His food is barely touched but he doesn't plan to eat anymore. With his heart in his throat for no good reason, he feels nauseous. Despite himself, he wonders if Makki still smells like cedar aftershave and the discount brand laundry detergent.

“That fucker didn’t pay.”

[inkformyblood]

Name Me Glory

Commander Cody Week Day 01 Bonds (posting just the writing this time cause tumblr) @commandercodyweek

Pairing: Cody & Rex, Cody & Alpha-17, Cody & Jango Fett (all platonic/sibling)

Summary: Cody doesn’t know when or how to quit, and he’ll keep pushing himself until he finds out. Set during training on Kaminoa

“Again.” CC-2224 spat the word out, blood trickling down his chin, thick and wet and blotting out everything else, as he pushed himself back onto his feet. The world tipped around him, the floor buckling beneath his feet as if the ever-present storm had finally broken into the building.

“Again?” Alpha-17’s eyes were wide and dark, and filled with something CC-2224 couldn’t name. Amusement, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was fled in an instant as Alpha-17 stepped forward, the sound of his feet muffled by the softer floor of the training mat, but it still reminded CC-2224 of the closing of a bulkhead door: final and resolute. “Step up then, shiny.”

When Alpha-17 put him down on the mat again, CC-2224 stayed down, the knee in his back a warning as the weight of the older clone pressed him further into the pad. The warning came as a whisper as Alpha-17 stood, cold fear curling down CC-2224’s spine: “Careful now, vod’ika. Mother’s watching.”

Alpha-17 left, each step calm and measured like the beating of a drum, the sound echoing back to CC-2224 as if it was a battalion marching away from him, but he didn’t move. Alpha-17’s warning twisted round his thoughts like a skipped track, slowly infecting everything else until CC-2224 felt a scream bubble up in his throat. Methodically, he bit his tongue, the steady pressure shifting into a wave of pain until the urge slowly ebbed away.

Carefully, he rolled his head to look towards the small observation deck set into one wall. The screen in front of it had once been fully reflective, showing the featureless metal walls and his steady, blank stare, but now the surface was pitted and tarnished. One of the corners had been shattered during a training exercise, the cracks slipping across the surface like a web. A flicker of movement in the broken, visible section betrayed the hiding place of the younger clone.

“Come out then, vod’ika!” CC-2224 called, his voice hoarse and cracked. Every movement felt like agony, his muscles having locked into place as the chill settled over the room now that the heavy electronic cameras — the Kaminoans’ eyes in the sky, almost always watching with their myriad blinking lights — had shut off for a moment. They would cycle back on eventually, a rhythm every clone had learned, but weren’t always manned. He knew he would have a moment of peace before he emerged out into the network of corridors, and was under their scrutiny once more.

The blonde hair wasn’t a surprise anymore, haloed around CT-7567’s face in tight curls as he scampered towards CC-2224. He could see the younger clone was in between growth cycles, his limbs compact but his cheeks were still rounded and flushed.

“Bacta?” CT-7567 mumbled around the edge of the nail he was chewing on, brow furrowed in intense concentration. He moved to flop onto CC-2224’s lap, but caught himself halfway, a wave of anguish flickering across his face.

“No, I’m fine.” CC-2224 reached up to him, and CT-7567 curled into him, his cheek resting against CC-2224’s chest. It ached, the smaller clone unintentionally pressing on the developing bruises that Alpha-17 left — all carefully in non-vital areas — but CC-2224 pulled him closer. “I have to keep pushing myself to be better.”

“You’re already the best,” CT-7567 argued with such perfect childish belief that CC-2224 was helpless to do anything other than let the laughter bubble up, curling forward to draw the other into Keldabe.

CC-2224 let out a steady breath, letting his eyes close, the constant weight he carried on his shoulders abating for a moment.

“Alpha-17 is just trying to follow what Jango taught him. So we can all be mandokarla.”

CT-7567 nodded sagely, but CC-2224 could sense the slight darting of his eyes and that he was chewing his lip as he mused it over, not fully understanding.

“Have you met Jango before?” His voice was hushed, almost reverent, and CC-2224 had to bite back a laugh. What were they teaching the shinies once they were decanted now? Jango Fett was their donor, and they were made in his image like the religions of long ago, but he was still just a man.

“No, I haven’t.” But he was lying.

CC-2224 met Jango Fett, the man rather than the deity who was both teacher and executioner, once.

The air of the corridor was cold and still, the heavy scent of salt lying thickly on the air, coating CC-2224’s tongue as he wept. He could still feel the pressure of the eyes of the other clones as the large door to the rec room opened, and only he walked through, bereft of his batchmates. The realisation that flickered over their faces was a reflection of his own horror upon awakening to the message on his datapad, before they quickly hid it behind blank professionalism. But the gentle tap of their fingers against their wrists, as light as a bird’s wing in the simulations, followed him like the ghost of a heartbeat.

He couldn’t get away from it then, the crushing weight that they had been ripped from him before they had truly become people, before they were able to be more than their numbers, so he ran and hid.

The plan descended on him, half-formed, as he squeezed through the small hatch that granted him access to the eyeless wiring channels and the ducts. They were Mando’a; that was the first thing they learned. They were Mando’a, no matter what anyone else told them.

But they would wear no beskar to paint, only plastoid armour, and CC-2224 had none of his own and had not inherited any. There were the carefully scavenged tins of paint, slipped from batch to batch and unit to unit, barely two steps ahead of the rolling tide of inspections inflicted upon them. Currently, the Alpha Batch retained them in the corridor outside their pods, their armour an explosion of colour in every hue they could squeeze out of the limited palette. They passed down the knowledge in whispers, mouths barely moving under the guise of inspections or during training, so he knew the colours held meaning.

CC-2224’s soul felt bathed in gold, so he slipped through the ductwork, his ribs scraping against the heated metal as wires sparked and snapped over his head, until he emerged, dust clinging to his hair and settling in his lungs. The metal rafters creaked beneath his feet as he slipped down from them, retrieving the paint from it’s hiding place behind a service panel and scrambling back up in an instant.

It clung to his fingers, the scent acrid in the air, and he carefully swiped it over his forearm, goosebumps rising in its wake. CC-2224 breathed out shakily, the grief for his lost brothers rising once more, and he set to work. Hours could have passed as he worked diligently, but he froze as voices echoed back along the corridor towards him.

The Kaminoans were instantly recognisable with their high, measured voices, but the other took him a moment before realisation sparked through him, almost knocking him from his perch.

During training, Jango’s accent was carefully modulated, locked beneath an iron-tight control into careful neutrality. But now it rose and fell like the sun, burning bright with anger.

“Hut’un!” The word was snapped, clear as day, and CC-2224 swayed on his precarious perch, eyes wide. Jango’s steps were a war-drum accompaniment to the Kamionan’s swaying stride as the pair passed beneath CC-2224.

“You go on,” Jango said, pausing just beneath CC-2224’s hiding place, causing his heart to leap into his throat, a cold sweat slipping down his spine as his heart ceased to beat in his chest. The Kaminoan inclined their head and continued without breaking stride, leaving Jango alone in the hallway. When he tipped his face back to meet CC-2224’s gaze, he thought he was going to die, bedecked in the gold of vengeance. But an almost unreadable expression passed over Jango’s face, a deep sorrow flickering like a leviathan passing just beneath the surface, before it was gone.

Wordlessly, he cracked the panel the paint was hidden behind and drew out the smaller tin of orange. He ducked his head to inspect it, and CC-2224 caught sight of a network of scars peeking out from the loose collar of his shirt and shrunk back further against the rafter. The metal groaned and protested with the movement, but Jango didn’t move.

“For Kote,” he said, finally, flashing CC-2224 a quick grin as he stretched up to offer the paint to the clone, who took it with unsteady hands, his eyes wide. Jango whistled as he walked away, something light that belayed the tension in the lines of his shoulders.

Orange for life. CC-2224 couldn’t guess at Prime’s motivations, but he felt the knot in his chest lessen, ever so slightly, as he drew the orange paint over the gold and finally let him cry.

⁂

“Back again so soon, vod’ika?” Alpha-17 called when CC-2224 stepped into the training room. A hush fell over the others, heads turning like reefs blown in a breeze to stare at him, silent and waiting.

CC-2224 merely nodded, taking his place in the line-up. That night’s sleep had been filled with coiling dreams and ran through with a thread of violent orange. He had to get better. He had to improve to keep his brothers safe, and — as Alpha-17 had roughly scrubbed the paint from his skin that night a few months ago, letting CC-2224 sob weakly onto his shoulder as he worked — the other clone knew it too.

“Always eager for glory.”

Alpha-17 paused in his pacing, head slowly turning towards CC-2224 like a big cat sizing up its prey. A chill ran down CC-2224’s spine, but he remained in place, despite the urge to run suddenly coiling in his gut.

“Kote.” Alpha-17 rolled the word around his tongue, catching CC-2224’s eye for the barest indicator of agreement. A name wasn’t something to take lightly, after all.

“Kote. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod.”

“Alpha-17. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod,” the newly named Kote echoed back at him.

Alpha-17 grinned, the same grin as Prime: fierce, righteous, protective rage and fury all honed to an edge, before he stepped away. Taking the pain with the pleasure was always his way of teaching, after all, the name acting as both a warning and reminder of his goal.

Kote grinned to himself. Kote, glory. It was a fitting name, after all.

[reluctant-mandalore]

Chilly Cuddles (Paz Vizsla x Reader)

Masterlist || Request ||  900 Followers Celebration

Word Count: 2506

Warnings: Cuddlessss. Lots of fluff, and pinning. But not too much. Its mostly fluff y’all. Also not beta read. grammar? never heard of it

a/n: Hey everyone! I’m back at it again with the late night publishing lol. Anyway, here is the first installment to the 900 Followers Celebration! This is also my first time writing for Paz!! I hope you all enjoy <3 

Edits: the usual spelling and stuff.

 The night air had chilled you to the bones and made you shiver with every breeze that caressed across your form. The metal of the ship was icy to the touch, as it sent goosebumps to rise upon your skin. Frost could be seen already forming on the ship's few windows, making delicate and elegant designs for all to see. 

 Paz had just finished shutting the last hatch to the snowy outdoors, causing for a few stray snowflakes to flow into the ship’s hull. One of the lone flakes had settled itself on your nose, melting at the contact, and sending for another shudder to roll down your spine. While he prepared the ship for the night, you had stood watching him, wrapped in a thick blanket to try and keep warm. The fabric clung tightly to your form, only providing a little relief from the cold as you continued to shiver and quiver in your spot. 

The ship’s heating system wasn’t working like it used to, and honestly it hadn’t worked well for a long time. This hadn’t seemed like a problem to you, or to the larger Mandalorian, when you had both first left on your journey. It wasn’t like you two had planned to make an emergency stop on a frozen wasteland planet, while the said planet was in the middle of suffering through a deadly blizzard. 

“You know it won’t be that bad, and it’s just to stay warm.” You had spoken in between the chattering of your teeth, as you tried your best to argue with your stubborn companion, “You can keep your helmet on and everything if you want.”

“No.” He had said quickly, tittering on the edge of sounding harsh with his tone. “We’re not sharing a cot to stay warm, there’s no need to.” 

A pout had crossed your features at his reply, making him look away in fear of crumbling to your pleading gaze, “No need? It’s literally freezing and the ship can’t produce any heat!” 

“I know for a fact that you have at least five blankets in your own cot.” He had scoffed, a roll of his eyes following, as he thought back to all the blankets he had left for you not too long ago.  “You’ll be fine. ” 

“It’s still freezing even with all the blankets!” You said in a desperate tone, moving closer towards the much larger individual, who had stiffened at your approaching form, “Come on Paz, us sharing a cot for one night won’t kill you. Please?”

“No.” He had tried more firmly, though he and you both knew his resolve was beginning to chip away bit by bit. He had a hard time saying no to you on a good day and tended to melt like putty into your hands on a bad one. Everyone, including him and you, knew this to be fact. The only person who could ever bring Paz Vizsla crumbling to his knees was you, and that was a fact.

“I know you’re cold too,” You had continued, seeing your victory in the argument just a few seconds away. While taking another step forward, you grasped one of his gloved hands in your own, causing his head to snap over to look down your now entwined hands. Two of your fingers had soon slid themselves underneath his wrist gauntlet, pressing against his own skin, which had felt like ice beneath your warmer finger tips. “Paz you’re so cold! How are you not frozen solid?” 

“That’s just because of the armor,” He managed to get out through his panicked mind. He had ripped his hand away from you, as his heart began to beat at a rapid pace from feeling your skin against his own. “We don’t need to share a cot to stay warm! Now stop bothering me about it.” 

A frown spread across your face, and a look of hurt had crossed your eyes from his sudden outburst. The words which you had wanted to say had died on your tongue, and you chewed at your bottom lip, clearly upset with having him yell at you in anger. Even if you knew you had probably deserved from hounding him for the majority of the day.  

  The pained look you wore had sent a tumble of regret to flow through Paz. His own heart clenching, as he realized he had hurt your feelings with his outburst. He hated seeing you so upset, especially if he was the one who had caused it in the first place. Something which he did more often than he wanted to admit. 

“Ok. I won’t force you.” You had finally muttered out, as another shiver trembled through your chilled state. Knowing you had upset him, you decided it would be best to leave him alone for the rest of the night. Turning to leave, you had paused briefly on your escape to the cockpit, looking back at him while trying to shove your frown away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry for overstepping any boundaries. I just thought it was a good idea... that’s all. I won’t bother you again tonight.”

 A ping of guilt had nibbled in the pit of his stomach as he watched you leave. He hadn’t meant to yell at you in the slightest. He was just horrible with controlling and addressing his own feelings towards you. The idea of the two of you sharing a cot was actually a pleasant one to him. He had known he liked you for some time now, and he had been trying to find reasons to get closer with you. So, being presented with the prospect of sharing a cot with you should have made him jump at the chance to say yes. Although, clearly, it instead had made him fearful and down right nervous. 

Paz may usually act like a tough and confident person, but when it came to these types of things he was clumsy and shy. When it came to you, his confident self melted away into that of a bashful man. He really did struggle when it came to facing his feelings surrounding your relationship.

After making his way up to the cockpit as well, he had watched silently as you continued to shake from the cold. Hearing him enter you had spared a glance over your shoulder at him, your face still possessing a frown, before you returned to your messing with the ship’s heating dial. 

Paz had sighed seeing this, sending a distorted noise to sound from his helmet as he watched your pitiful attempt at trying to warm the ship. “Fine.” 

“What?”

“We can share my cot, but only this once and never again.” He had finished, trying to sound his usual confident self.

Hearing his words had made you replace your frown with a wide grin, and he had let out another sigh at the sight of it. “Thank you Paz!” You had said quickly, popping up from your spot in the pilot chair, before dashing off to get the remaining blankets from your own cot to bring to his. 

When you had eventually entered his room, you had initially paused staring at his cot for the moment. As you did, a sudden flush of heat had washed over you at the thought of sharing such a tiny space with the person of your affections. An exciting and anxious idea all in one. 

Shaking your embarrassed thoughts away, you settled yourself into the nest of blankets that you had accumulated for the two of you, waiting for your traveling companion to join you in the piled warmth. 

Paz had entered his room the same way he did any other night, his footsteps loud in the quiet room, as he moved about the small space. He paused briefly when he caught sight of you tucked away under the sheets, and felt his stomach knot when his eyes had met your own. He had soon felt himself warm underneath his armored layers, happy he had them to hide his heated expression from your gaze, turning to focus on getting himself ready for bed as a distraction.  

“Do we really need that many blankets?” He had asked quietly, his voice wavering slightly through the modulator of his helmet. 

 An audible click had sounded throughout the darkened room, as he had begun to remove his armor. The realization of his undressing had fallen upon you and with a small gasp you had ducked to hide beneath the warm layers. The sight of you doing so had made the Mandalorian amused, and he felt himself smile before turning back to working on removing his heavier layers. 

 Paz truly didn’t mind if you saw him remove all his armor, it wasn’t like he was getting naked or removing his helmet. It wasn’t even the first time you would be seeing him in his underclothes, and admittedly, he had secretly enjoyed the idea of being able to show off his muscled figure to you. His large and beefy frame was something he always took pride in. 

“Yes.” You had finally managed to croak out in response from underneath the blankets shielding your eyes, the sound of your own voice laced with both underlying nerves and tiredness. 

“I can still sleep somewhere else.” The winter air sent a visible shiver to crawl down his spine as he spoke, his armor now gone, with only his helmet and underclothing remaining in place. The words leaving him had been soft and gentle, concern for you evident when he had turned to look towards where you laid in the cot. 

A small smile spread across your face at hearing him so worried for your well being, and you peaked from under the thick sheets to meet his gaze once more. Seeing him stand awkwardly near the edge of the cot, while still shivering, had made your grin widen, “And let you freeze? Not a chance big guy.”  

Lifting up the blankets slightly, you had patted the cot, motioning for him to join you in the pile of blankets. Seeing this had finally made him make his way to join you, the cot dipping slightly with his added weight, as he settled himself into the nest of blankets. 

Compared to you, Paz was huge and took up the majority of the cot on his own. This in turn had made the space cramped, with your backs pressed flushed together as you both tried to doze off. The added heat from his own body had instantly eased you, and soon your eyes were heavy with the need to sleep. 

Feeling his overflowing warmth, you couldn’t resist the need to feel more of it, and you had soon rolled over to bury your face into his back. The tip of your chilled nose had suddenly been engulfed with his heady scent, and you pressed yourself closer wanting more of his intoxicating presence to consume you while drifting off to dreamland. 

 Paz had stiffened when he first felt you nuzzle yourself into him, but soon he had relaxed at the contact, a small tired sound leaving him. Having you so close to him had made his heart beat like crazy again, and had even allowed his subsiding flush of warmth to reappear full force.  

“Thank you Paz,” You had said suddenly, with your voice muffled from having your face pressed so tightly into him. “I know I’m not always the easiest person to put up with, so thank you.” 

Managing to get out your last tired thoughts to him, you had begun to be lulled to sleep from his added warmth. Paz had then abruptly rolled over to face you instead. His movement making you whine at having been disturbed from your brief slumber, your eyes cracking open to stare at him with confusion. 

  He had chuckled in return, the sound of the deep rumbling from him causing for another warm heat to wash over your form again, as you had suddenly felt shy. His fingers now moving to lightly brush against your cheek, as if he was admiring your features in the darkness. While peering deep into your eyes, he had moved so that the cool metal of his forehead pressed gently onto your own. The gesture had caused for your own eyes to widen, and you had felt yourself become even more confused, but overjoyed by his sudden boldness. 

 The forehead press had felt like it lasted an entirety to you, but it was only a few more seconds before he had moved back once more to admire your beauty. Paz had rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip, the desire to kiss pooling into both your minds as he did. Even if you both were aware of the helmet blocking such a thing from happening, the need to feel each other’s lips against one another was still ever present within your den of blankets. 

“Lift your head.” 

Pulled out of your thoughts from his sudden words, tiredly you had done as he asked. Soon lifting your head from its place on the pillow almost subconsciously, while still distracted from his earlier affections. His one arm had then slid itself underneath your head, effectively providing itself as a pillow while he managed to pull you closer to him with a simple tug of his other free hand. His arm keeping you held tight into his board chest, now enveloping you completely into his strong embrace. 

 Paz’s thick scent had filled your nostrils once more, as your head fit perfectly into his neck, your warm breath ghosting over his exposed skin. His fingers had trailed longingly against your spin, as he continued to press your body into his own. His larger and muscled legs had now entangled themselves with yours, one of them fitting themselves over your hip, successfully trapping you in place. Both your bodies had fit together like they were meant to be that way, almost as if they were perfectly made for one another. It was like you two were meant to be forever entwined in this way. 

The coldness you had once felt was now long gone, far from your mind as you completely relaxed into his grasp. At this point your own arm had slithered across his broad chest and around his waist. The feeling of him had felt firm beneath your touch, like solid stone that would not budge through any storm, and you hugged onto him even tighter, not wanting to ever let go. 

“See?” You had said just above a whisper, making your lips lightly brush against the exposed skin of his shoulder, almost as if you had pressed a chaste kiss to it. “Sharing a cot was a great idea.” 

“Go to sleep.” He had grunted out, the small smile he wore under the helmet evident in his voice, “We have a long day tomorrow.” 

A sweet hum left you in response and for once you had listened to him without question. A small smile still playing on your lips, as you allowed yourself to succumb to your tired state while tightly wrapped in his warm embrace. The chilly night now far from both your muddled minds, as you both settled into the first of many nights spent in each other's arms.

---

Tags: 

@ah-callie @starrywatermelon @readsalot73 @karnita-mexicana @a-seeker-of-imagination​

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love, War, and Books by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/3

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 2: Poetry and Mean Spiritedness

Emma stood in the middle of a near empty store, she sighed, stringing up the lights around the small tree in the corner of the reading area. She gazed around at the few children and their parents looking around at the books before leaving without spending a dime. Jones Books had opened at the beginning of the week and sadly had affected the customer turnout for the week.

While it was upsetting, Emma was trying to stay positive, determined that business would pick up once the shine of the new bookstore wore off and the children begged their parents to return to the store that spent time and effort to bring the stories to life that they had known and loved.

“This bloody sucks!” Will complained as he closed the register for the evening.

“We’ll be out of business before the end of the month at this rate.” Ruby whispered in his direction.

“No one is going out of business.” Emma assured, patting Ruby on the back. “It will pick up after they get tired of the terrible customer service they are getting at Jones crappy bookstore.”

“I hope so because I have rent due on the 5th.”

“Please, you’re still living in a place with rent control. I’ll be out on the streets with the amount they rip from my hands each month across town.”

“No one is going to be out on the streets. Think positive. We’ll be fine.” Emma tried to calm the nervousness in the room.

“It’s like working in a tomb here.” Will moaned.

“Wow Will, way to be positive.” Ruby teased with a groan.

He shrugged and Emma skipped away from them, trying to ignore the negative concerns from her employees. She wasn’t going to be put out of business from Jones Books!

When she arrived home that evening, her positive attitude was threatening to wane on her. The store had barely made enough money to be in the black that evening, she stepped in a puddle before entering their apartment, and the zipper in the dress she wanted to wear to the dinner this evening snagged and broke as soon as she put it on.

Groaning she sat down at her laptop as she waited for August to get done with his shower. She read the message from JR10 and her smile returned momentarily.

Lonelygirl: I find that sometimes you are the one person I want to talk to at the end of a difficult day. Is that weird? If it is, just skip over that part. I pride myself in being a positive person, but lately I’m finding it harder to find that little piece of joy before I get swallowed into a black hole of sadness. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for being that little piece of joy I needed tonight.

She closed her laptop as August emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. “I thought you were getting dressed?”

“My zipper broke.” She frowned, holding up the dress in front of her.

“So, wear that one with the flowers.”

“I hate that dress.”

“So, wear the plaid one or the one with stripes. Or the red one is nice.” He paused, looking at her closet. “Any of these is fine.”

“Yeah ok, the red one is good.”

An hour later they were in the elevator and heading to the penthouse for a publication party. They were generally dry and boring but a great opportunity to meet other writers, artists, and people in the book business.

“Maybe you can find some people to assist you in your plight tonight.”

“My plight? And what would that be?” She waited on an answer from August.

“From Jones Books, if things got tough perhaps you could find an ally to help rally support.”

“It’s not going to get to that. My store is doing just fine.” Emma replied angrily.

“I know, I don’t know why I said that, of course it’s fine.”

“There’s enough business for more than one bookstore. We’re fine.”

He kissed her cheek. “You’re more than fine, you’re absolutely fine.”

“Yeah, exactly, we’re fine.” She repeated as they stepped into the party at the top of the building unsure if she was trying to convince August or herself of the state of her business.

~*~

Killian and Milah had arrived early to the party, a friend of the family who was hosting a publishing event had invited them to join them that evening. His father told him more than once that these events were the perfect time to rub elbows with people in the book business. Free advertising, he used to tell him.

“Oh, I can’t believe that August Booth is here. I listen to him on the way to work, he is so inspiring.” Killian nodded without actually paying attention as he scanned the room, his eyes settling on a familiar face in the back corner.

Emma Swan.

His eyes grew big, and he leaned over to speak into Milah’s ear. “I’m going to get a drink.” She nodded and he slipped out of view of the woman from his rival bookstore before she could turn in his direction.

“Havana Club Rum, neat.” He gave his order to the bartender, glancing around the room to find Milah.

“Malibu and Cranberry.” He recognized her voice before he turned toward her. When he did she smiled, and her eyes grew wide. “Hey! Remember me? From the bookstore?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I remember you.”

“How’s your brother?”

“He’s good, really good.” He grabbed his drink and held it up in front of him. “I have to get back to my date, very thirsty, would hate to see her wither from dehydration.” He joked.

“You’re Killian right?” She continued and he felt the sweat start to gather at the back of his neck.

“Yes, and you’re Emma.” He said with a smile before ducking into the crowd to escape.

~*~

Emma sipped her drink as she made her way back over to August, sliding up beside him as his conversation ended.

“I can’t believe you were talking to Killian Jones.”

Emma turned toward him, “Jones, as in…”

“Jones Books.” He nodded but Emma was already making her way across the room toward the man standing at the food table.

“Jones, your name is Killian Jones?”

“Last I checked, Aye.” He shrugged, turning back to the food, and filling his plate.

“You were spying on me!” She declared loudly. “You probably don’t even have a brother.”

“You wound me Swan. Of course I have a brother. Why exactly do you think I would spy on you?” He said as if he didn’t have a care in the world who she was, which angered her even more.

“I’m your competition, which you already know or else you wouldn’t have played that little charade in my store.” She had her hands on her hips, chewing angrily on her bottom lip.

“Competition?” He said with an annoying laugh that made her blood boil. “The only reason I came into your store was because I was spending the day with my brother. I like to buy him gifts when I take him out because honestly I have no idea how else to keep his attention. At the time there was only one place in the neighborhood to buy children’s books, though as I am sure you are aware of now, all of that has changed.” He shrugged, “So I ended up in your store, and it is a charming littlestore. You probably sell $250,000 worth of books a year…”

Her eyes widened as she stepped toward him. “How did you know that?”

“I’m in the book business, obviously.” He said arrogantly.

“No, I’m in the book business, you are simply the Costco of books.”

“Ah I see, and so you think that I needed to sneak into your tiny bookstore and steal your financial ledger because I’m afraid you’ll put me out of business? Give me a break, love.” He snorted and Emma felt flustered, angry, but frozen in place.

“What?” He asked as he watched her standing in front of him, mouth agape, saying nothing.

“Killian Jones, corporate scum, destroyer of small-time virtues, enemy of the hardback novel, how do you sleep at night?” August joined her at her side and Emma forced herself to close her mouth as she stared between them.

“I sleep wonderful at night, mostly from the pills though.” A woman interrupted and jabbed her hand toward August. “You’re August Booth, aren’t you?” she paused. “I’m Milah Gold. And I loved your podcast last week about how Amazon is taking over the world.” She turned toward Killian. “This man is a literal genius.” Emma narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“Wow thank you; you have no idea how much that means coming from someone as talented as you. So often I wake up and worry that people will think I’m a fraud or a failure. But this…this is truly inspiring.” August seemed to suck the air out of the room as he continued to praise the woman standing next to her enemy.

“We need to talk more. Have you ever considered writing a book?” The woman continued and August began to shift excitedly on the balls of his feet. Emma stood stoically as her eyes made contact with the man who was trying to destroy her business. He held her gaze, not wavering from the contact until she shifted her eyes back to her boyfriend. She breathed a sigh of relief when Killian and the woman excused themselves from the conversation.

Emma couldn’t concentrate the rest of the evening. Why did she say nothing when he provoked her? Instead of standing up for herself she froze, completely shut down.

“I really liked that Milah Gold. Sure, I know she’s completely driven by money, but anyone who listens to my podcast can always be turned around.”

Emma rolled her eyes, tossing down onto her pillow and staring at the ceiling while he continued to ramble on and on about the evening.

~*~

“I can’t believe we met August Booth. He’s so interesting, don’t you think he’s interesting?” He turned over in his bed, staring at the floor. “His ideas are just so ahead of his time. No one is saying the things he’s saying.”

Killian flipped the covers off his body and stood from the bed. He was feeling uneasy, angry, guilty. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Where are you going?”

“Bloody hell woman, I’m just not tired.”

JR10: Have you ever woken up and realized that you have become the worst part of yourself? Like when someone provokes you, every arrogant, self-absorbed, condescending piece of your personality comes springing to life and attacks. Who am I kidding, you wouldn’t know what that is like? I’m the dark asshole here.

He stared at his screen, almost needing to talk to her, hoping that she was online. His heart soared when it showed she was typing.

Lonelygirl: I completely understand. I’m honestly jealous, I wish I had that in me. When I’m provoked, I freeze like a fish gulping for air, only to spend the rest of the night tossing in bed trying to think of things I should have said instead.

He laughed; he couldn’t believe how opposite they were. She was a breath of fresh air.

JR10: Perhaps I could lend you some of my retorts and you could give me your silence. Though I must warn you, when you finally provide that perfect response that digs into the subject of your attack, you will learn a new trait. Remorse.

He paused, staring at his screen, and thinking about doing something really stupid. Or possibly brilliant. He wasn’t sure which it was.

JR10: Do you think we should meet?

He hovered over the enter button, did he really think it was a good idea to meet this woman? Before he could change his mind he punched the button sending the message and closing the lid of his computer.

~*~

“He wants to meet you?” Emma groaned and leaned against the counter, Ruby staring at her from her spot in front of the shelves. “What did you tell him?”

“I wasn’t going to answer him on an empty stomach. So, I made breakfast and then chickened out and ran straight to work.”

“That’ll show him.” Will joked as he nudged her with his shoulder. “Left him on read.”

“Oh stop.” Emma whined. “I’ll answer him, later.” She sighed, walking back to her office, and staring at her invoices. Sales were down by 30% since Jones books had opened. She was never going to survive at this rate. She needed to do something drastic.

“It’s a shame you don’t know anyone with a voice to the public. Someone who knows how to tug at the heartstrings of America’s bleeding heart.”

Emma looked up to see Mrs. Lucas entering the room. “You aren’t suggesting…”

“That man candy of yours.”

“Don’t call him that.” Emma scrunched her nose and shuffled the papers in front of her.

“Come on, he’s nice on the eyes that man of yours.”

“I guess.”

“If you can only guess, then maybe you’re looking up a different tree.”

Emma’s mouth dropped, “Grans! That’s completely inappropriate.”

The woman shrugged and left the room. “I’ll take him if you’re done with him.” She hollered back as she left.

Emma was being completely unfair to August, there was no way she should meet this JR10. Things were perfect just the way they were. She loved August, he was good to her, and all she was doing was having a conversation with a computer screen.

That’s all.

Nothing more.

As soon as she got home she opened her laptop, determined that this was the right decision.

Lonleygirl: I don’t think we should meet. Why would we ruin what we have? I enjoy talking to you, you enjoy talking to me, why mess with that? Please don’t ask again.

~*~

Killian sat with his dog in his lap and his laptop sitting beside him as he read the incoming message.

“Good job Jones, you scared her.” He patted the dog’s head. “I’m officially an idiot.”

He slammed the laptop shut, unsure how to reply to the woman.

The days went by in a flurry as the store picked up steam. Every time he walked through the expansive store, it was buzzing with customers, passing over credit cards, picking up bundles of books at an affordable rate. He was saving them money, he was a goddamn hero, he thought.

But as he was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, waiting for any sign of movement in the past ten minutes, his sour mood was making him feel anything like a hero.

“Can you believe this woman?” The man in front of him complained to his wife. “She’s trying to pay with a credit card in the cash only line.”

Killian leaned to the side, trying to see who was causing the delay when he spotted the golden hair, angry face, and an ass that would make any man’s groin twitch. He laughed, cursing his luck, but stepping forward toward her anyway.

“Do you need cash?”

She turned toward him and groaned. “Definitely not, thank you.” She growled.

“Hi, Ashley.” He smiled at the cashier. “This is Emma, I’m Killian. This is a credit card machine, is it not, Lass?” The woman stared at him, nodding with her mouth agape. “It’s the night before Thanksgiving, people are hungry, tired, and I’m sure you would prefer everyone go home so that you can get off your shift, am I right?”

The woman smiled. “It’s cash only.”

“But you have the ability to run it through. Zip zip.” He said as he pretended to push the card through the machine.

The woman took the card and groaned, “Fine.” She said as she ran it through the machine.

“Everything good now?”

“Just great.” Emma replied rolling her eyes.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” He said with a fake smile, turning his back and inserting himself into the line to a swell of cheers and pats on the back.

~*~

Emma found that she was running into Killian everywhere she went to her utter dismay. Suddenly he was at her coffee shop, grocery store, and even the gas station. When he pulled up on his stupid motorcycle she wanted to comment about how he must be overcompensating for something, but that would mean having to speak to him. So instead, she found herself hiding anytime he showed up. Sure, it was ridiculous, but she just didn’t want to face him again after the credit card incident.

As much as seeing Killian was causing her sour mood, she knew that wasn’t the only reason. She hadn’t heard back from JR10 since she told him she didn’t want to meet him. She supposed it was for the best, she never intended for it to go anywhere in the first place.

But everything seemed to be going wrong lately. Killian, JR10, her store. Emma wanted to feel happy, especially during the holidays, but instead she just felt depressed.

She stood at the store display window, watching the children walk by with their parents, snow falling softly in the background, and normally this would bring her all the joy she needed to keep from missing her mom during the holidays. Instead, the little yellow “Jones Books” bags in the hands of the happy children only brought her sadness.

When she got home, she did the one thing that had made her happy recently. She ignored the awkward feelings, sat down with her cocoa, and opened her laptop to message JR10.

Lonelygirl: I miss my mom. The holidays aren’t the same without her. I don’t think I ever told you, but my mom passed ten years ago. Fuck cancer. She always made the holidays special and I’m just really feeling down this year and I guess nothing feels special anymore because nothing is going right in my life anymore and I could really use her advice.

She got up and stood by her window, tears falling onto her cheeks. She laughed as she watched the snow falling. “Suddenly I’m a mess, mom. I miss you.”

A sound alerted her to a new message, and she wiped her face, slowly taking a seat in front of the screen.

JR10: My mother passed when I was 4. Holidays are always difficult. It was a car accident that took her, my father never really knew what to do with two young boys. Intimacy wasn’t exactly his thing. I miss her most around Christmas. She loved the snow. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that she looked like an angel in the snow. What kind of advice do you need? Maybe I can help.

Emma smiled, happy that he had responded so quickly and didn’t mention anything about the previous awkwardness of her declining to meet him.

Lonelygirl: I don’t think you can help me.

JR10: Is it man trouble?

Lonelygirl: No definitely not. My business is in trouble.

JR10: I’m a great businessman, what kind of business do you have?

Lonelygirl: That’s rule #2 remember! No specifics.

JR10: Well, it’s going to be difficult to help without specifics, but I guess the best advice I can give you is that nothing in business is personal. It’s not personal, it’s business. Don’t go down without a fight. A man, or therefore woman, unwilling to fight for what they want, deserve what they get. You told me that you worried about not being brave in life. This is your chance. Fight to the death.

Emma closed her laptop and looked in the mirror. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She said louder as August walked into the room.

“What’s not personal?”

“Jones Books.” She announced. “I’m going to war. And I want you to help me fight them.” August walked over and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.

“There’s my girl. Let’s take it to the man.”

~*~

“You are what you read, save your soul, boycott Jones Books.” Killian glared at the poster attached to the window of his store. Ripping it from the glass he stormed into the store, marching to the back and into Belle’s office. “What is this crap?”

“They’re all over the streets, I’m finding them on the back of the registers, on my car. That little bookstore that none of you cared about, means business. Did you know they got that podcaster, August Booth to devote an entire hour of his next show comparing us to sharks that attack children on the beach?”

“Of course she did, I believe she’s dating the man.”

“Who is?”

“Emma, the owner of Golden Swan Books.”

“You know her?”

“Might have met her once.”

“Oh God.” Belle recoiled and reached for her remote on her desk, turning the volume up on the television above their head.

“I’m here with Emma Swan, owner of the quaint children’s bookstore Golden Swan Books. The store is struggling to remain open under the constant attack of the new super store Jones Books that opened down the block. Emma how are you?”

“Thank you for having me, you know I just want to say that Jones Books may have cheap books and wonderful coffee selections, but most of their employees have never even read a book in their life.”

Killian groaned. “She’s a real pain in the ass.”

“Is she now?” Bell mused. “I’m sure she’s not nearly as beautiful in person as she is on television.” She smirked.

“Oh no, she’s gorgeous, but a bloody pain in the ass.”

“You don’t feel bad that you are basically destroying her livelihood?”

“It’s not personal…”

“It’s business.” She finished for him.

“Besides, I’m not physically doing this, it’s the company. I’m not this big bad guy here. I’m just doing my job.” He complained. “I sell discounted books. So, sue me. Because of me, more people get to…OH MY GOD…buy books.” He dramatically paced the office, his hands flailing as Belle looked on with a smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking back down at her computer.

When Killian left the store an hour later it was to a line of people holding signs and screaming in his face. “One, two, three, four, we don’t want this superstore.”

~*~

Emma stared at the papers in front of her. “Wait, so it made no difference at all?”

“Sorry, dear, doesn’t look like it. In fact, we’ve lost more this month than we did the previous three before their store even opened.”

Emma exhaled loudly. “So, we lost?” Her shoulders hunched and she felt the air inside of her deflate. “What would mom do?”

“I don’t know, dear, but the store looks lovely.”

Emma smiled weakly as the woman left the office, slumping against her desk, she cried softly. She walked home in the rain, not even bothering to shield herself from the conditions. By the time she reached her apartment her clothes were soaked to her skin, her hair dripping onto the tile floor, and her tears were drowned by the moisture.

Sinking down at her desk, she opened her laptop and typed.

Lonleygirl: I need help. Do you still want to meet?

Emma tapped her nails on the keyboard, waiting anxiously for a reply. It didn’t take long for her to get one.

JR10: I’m happy to help. Do you know the Diner on 83rd? Friday, 7pm?

“Wait, you’re meeting him?” Ruby gaped.

“Like in person? That’s bloody dangerous, Emma.” Will scolded.

“You both are being ridiculous. We’re meeting in a public place. It’s fine.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned toward the older woman in the room. “Tell them Grans.”

“There are worse ways to meet men.” She laughed.

“Did you tell August?” Ruby inquired.

“No.” She said as she lowered her head. “He’s out of town this weekend. Some podcast convention in Los Angeles.”

“Aye, so that makes it alright to meet strange men you’ve been chattin’ with online?”

“I’m not going to stay long; we’re just eating food. That’s all.” She protested as Will made a gesture that indicated a sexual act. Emma groaned and punched him in the shoulder. “You’re disgusting. It’s just dinner. That’s all. 45 mins, an hour, tops.”

~*~

“I’m not even going to stay that long.” Killian protested as he and Belle walked the darkened streets.

“So how does this work? How are you going to know who she is?”

“She said she’ll have a book with a single rose.”

“A book, are you sure she doesn’t already know who you are?”

“It’s a common thing, from a book or something.” He mused and Belle rolled her eyes. “Do you think this is ridiculous, am I purposely trying to destroy a good thing with Milah?”

“Well, you do have a tendency to ruin things that could possibly lead to a future.” She laughed. “But I haven’t quite figured out why you and Milah are still together, honestly.”

“I love her.”

“Do you? Because I kinda think if you did, you wouldn’t be meeting up with random women you’ve been talking to online.”

Killian stopped walking and looked up at the door to the restaurant. “I can’t do this.” He started to turn away before spinning back toward the restaurant. “God, why do I need to meet this woman so badly that I can’t walk away?” He looked over at Belle. “Go look. Tell me if you can see her.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Killian. Do you want me to go in and have dinner with her too?”

“Only if she’s horrid.” He teased. “Please, Belle.” She climbed the stairs, peering through the window. “Do you see her?”

“Oh wow, she’s gorgeous.” Belle grinned. “Oh wait, no flower. Sorry.”

“Lass, this woman is a marvel. Even if she looks like her smiley face icon on discord, I may have no choice but to upend my life and marry her tomorrow.”

“Wait, I see a book.” Belle squealed, “And a flower…” She moved around the window. “The waiters in the way.” She peered again through the window. “Oh. Um…”

“What is it? Blonde, Brunette…is she a red head?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“Bloody hell, I knew it.” He yelped.

“Yeah, definitely. I would say she’s as beautiful as Emma Swan.”

“The bookstore woman?” He asked confused.

“You said she was attractive.”

“Why are we even talking about Emma Swan right now?”

“Because, if you don’t like Emma Swan, you’re definitely not going to like this woman.”

“Why not?” Killian growled.

“Because she is Emma Swan.” Killian ran up the stairs, pushing himself against Belle and peering into the restaurant.

“Bloody hell.” He watched as Emma sat at the table, a soft smile across her lips, adjusting the book and the flower on the table as she nervously watched the door. Killian sighed and turned away from the door, walking back to the sidewalk.

“Where are you going?” Belle said loudly. “You’re just gonna let her sit there alone?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“But she’s lonelygirl, you were desperate to know who she was just ten minutes ago.”

“Goodnight Belle.” He said sadly, walking back toward his apartment.

~*~

Emma stared anxiously at the door, inspecting every person who walked through the entrance. When a tall man entered, smiling at her as he turned the corner, she stood up to greet him only for another woman to rush toward him, pulling her into his arms. Emma sat down, feeling dejected, her stomach tied in knots from disappointment. She couldn’t believe JR10 stood her up.

Maybe he was too good to be true.

“Ma’am, do you want your check?”

“No, can I have another glass of wine, please.” The waiter smiled and nodded sadly at her.

“Excuse me Ma’am.” Emma looked up excitedly at a young man standing next to her table. Ok he was a little younger than she expected, but age didn’t matter, right? “Are you using this chair?”

Emma narrowed her eyes as he started to remove the other chair from her table. “Put it down.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m using it, I have a date, he’s coming.” The man apologized and Emma hollered after him. “He’s late.” She groaned as the door swung open and she felt like everything was moving in slow motion until it came to a screeching halt.

Killian Jones. Are you fucking kidding me?

He walked past her table, and she saw him react when he recognized her. His hands traced her table before picking up her book and making a face. She grabbed it from his hands and placed it back on her table. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” He said, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry, but that seat is taken.”

He looked around with an air of arrogance, “Is he invisible? Do you have an invisible friend now?” He stood and apologized to the chair.

“Would you please leave.”

He had the nerve to bow, which made her blood boil. But instead of walking away, he took the table behind her, sitting down and leaning closer to her. “You know I’ve read that book.”

Emma looked down at her book. “You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”

“I think you’d find a lot of things surprising about me, if you actually knew me.”

Emma glared at him, “If I got to know you I bet I’d find a cash register instead of a brain and instead of a heart, a bottom line.” Her mouth dropped.

“What’s wrong?” He replied after seeing the look on her face.

“I just did something I’ve never been able to do before. When confronted by a terrible and insensitive person, I knew exactly what to say, exactly at the right time.”

“I must agree, congratulations, it was the perfect mixture of poetry and mean spiritedness.”

“Mean spirted? I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t be offended, I was paying you a compliment, lass.”

“Please leave, I beg you.” She said on the verge of tears.

She reached into her purse, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing the corners of her eyes.

“You know what that reminds me of? The first time we met.” He said reverently.

“You mean the day you lied to me when you were spying on me.”

“Hey, I never lied to you.”

She snorted. “Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The door opened and they both turned toward the door. A short man with an angry face entered the room. “I’m going to venture a guess that this is not him either. Who could your mystery man be? Will you be mean to him too?”

“Of course I won’t because the man I’m meeting is nothing like you. He’s kind and sweet and a much better man than you.”

“Except that he’s stood you up, it’s bad form to leave a lady waiting.”

“If he’s not here, then he has a good reason. Because there isn’t a mean bone in his entire body. But you wouldn’t know that because you’re just a jerk in a leather jacket who thinks he’s better than everyone else.” She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He said softly, in a voice that sounded almost disappointed. But Emma didn’t care, all she wanted was to be alone.

~*~

“Somewhere inside that hard exterior must be the same woman who writes to you online, maybe underneath it all she’s just…”

“A real bitch.” He replied to Belle. “Can we not talk about Emma Swan? I’m going back to the office.” He said with annoyance, walking out of the back office and slipping out of the store onto the street. He hated that this woman was still driving him mad. She was a thorn in his side, infuriating, and troublesome and yet all he could think about was the way she wrote to him, the way he waited anxiously just to see that message pop up on screen.

More than anything, he missed her.

~*~

“So, he stood you up?” Ruby said angrily.

“Or he got injured.” Emma interjected and Will laughed. “Seriously, what if he had an accident on the way to restaurant? What if he’s lying in a hospital bed right now?”

“What if he’s a bloody murderer and he was meeting up with you to kill you?”

“Will!” Ruby exclaimed.

“I’m not bloody kidding, remember that murder at my apartment a few weeks back? They caught the guy, last night!” He pulled out his phone, searching for the information and holding up the screen to show them a picture of the man who was arrested the previous night.

“Oh my God.” Emma said cupping her hand over her mouth.

“Emma, that’s not him.” Ruby said rolling her eyes.

“But what if it is.”

“You’re making excuses, so you don’t feel sad about getting stood up, I get it, I do.”

Emma frowned; she knew her friend was right. She was sad, and maybe a little bit angry at JR10 for standing her up. Even though he hadn’t sent her a message since last night, perhaps she needed to let him know how she felt.

Lonelygirl: I’m thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you didn’t show up. I wish I could understand why. I feel like such a fool. But while I waited for you to arrive, another man showed up. A man who has effectively been trying to ruin my professional life. But the most amazing thing happened, for the first time in my life, I was able to say exactly what I wanted at exactly the right time. But just as you said, I immediately felt regret for saying them. I was mean, and I’m never mean. And even if it didn’t hurt him, because honestly, he just thinks of me as a bug to crush under his feet, but what if it did hurt him? I behaved badly and that made me sad. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I consider you a dear friend, and I hope you had a good reason for not being there tonight, but if you didn’t and we never speak again, then I want you to know how much this time with you has meant to me. How much it has meant just to know you were there.

Emma shut down her laptop, wiping the tears from her eyes and crawling into bed.

~*~

Killian paced in front of his desk, reading the message from Emma again. He stopped for a moment, glaring at the screen before walking away and getting a bottle of rum from his kitchen. He poured a glass and took a sip. He wasn’t going to reply to her. He would just let it end this way and be done with this charade.

He poured another glass and walked toward his desk, turning sharply, and heading to the living room. Sitting down on the couch he turned on the television and his vision blurred to the sounds of some mindless television show playing out ridiculous scenes on screen.

Sipping his glass, he swallowed, the warm liquid coating his throat as it slid into his belly. “Fuck.” He cursed, standing up and walking back to his desk. Looking at the screen he re-read the message from Emma for the fourth time that evening.

Fine, he thought. I’m actually going to do this.

JR10: I’m in Vancouver.

He laughed and hit the backspace button, deleting what he had written.

JR10: I was stuck in a meeting; a microburst took out the entire block so there was no way I could reach out.

“Ridiculous.” He said out loud, erasing the message again.

JR10: I cannot explain what happened last night, but I feel terrible, love. I wasn’t there for you and instead I caused you more pain. I’m sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. You expected to find someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. I truly am sorry; the fault is mine alone. I hope that one day I will be able to explain to you what happened, in the meantime, I’m here for you. Please talk to me.

~*~

“So, he didn’t tell you why he didn’t show up?”

“Nope, just that he would explain another time.”

“Sounds like a scam to me.” Ruby said, biting her lip.

Mrs. Lucas cleared her throat. “What have you decided, dear?”

Emma frowned, sipping her tea slowly. “I don’t think we have a choice. We’re going to have to close.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry.” Ruby offered beside her.

“I feel like such a failure, like I’m just giving up, letting him win. It feels like mom is…”

“Oh, sweet girl, closing the store doesn’t keep her alive. No matter how much you want it to.”

Emma cried that evening, staring at empty shelves, barren walls, a darkened store that would forever be gone. She imagined her mother, looking down at her while she danced in circles around her legs. Had she really lost or was this just her being brave? Maybe trying something new was the brave thing to do? Letting go of the past, her safety net.

As she sat across from August, staring at him while he spoke between bites, she realized that for the first time in her life, she could be anything that she wanted.

“I have an Amazon prime account.” She announced.

He paused, “What?”

“I know, I know, they are evil incarnate, but when I buy something, I get it the next day and that’s pretty awesome and I should have told you, but I didn’t.” She let the statement hang in the air.

“Since when do you shop online?”

“I know, I suppose you could never be with someone that buys items online from large corporations.”

He laughed. “Forget about it, I forgive you. It’s fine.”

Emma glared at him. “You forgive me?” She took a long drink of her wine while August stared at her with concern growing on his face.

“What’s wrong Emma?” Suddenly the dam burst, and tears started to stream down her face. “Hey, don’t do that. Emma, it’s alright. This has been a tough week with the store closing.”

“It’s not that though, August, I need…”

“That was insensitive of me.”

Emma sniffled. “What was?”

“To bring up the store, when you’re having a hard time and I’m the one who’s…” He took a quick drink and reached out to take her hand. “Emma I don’t know how to say this. I think you are an amazing person, and honestly I’m so honored that you chose me because I know that means something to you and…”

“You don’t love me.” She said suddenly realizing what he was trying to tell her. He frowned, squeezing her hand and Emma burst into a fit of giggles. “That’s wonderful news, I don’t love you either.”

“But we’re so right for each other.” He mused.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. Is there someone else?”

“Nothing that’s happened, but there is a woman, I don’t know. What about you? Is there someone else for you?”

Emma sighed sadly. “No, but there is the dream of someone else.”

[starrysupercell]

UwU the rest of the outline at per request. @lumpy-veev (still unfinished but it's okay! This should be thought of as a rough draft.) 💙

🦝 "RaR 3" or "Breaking Point" 🐍

It would be an unofficial Brawl, which is not allowed, but it happens, and what can you even do?

I see the two as basically ignoring each other's presence upon finding out that the other is there. Of course, as much as they won't admit it, it's making them think of. Everything.

This leads to even more on edge tense atmosphere whenever they would cross each other's path, because even if it’s a big park, you can only avoid someone for so long, especially when you happen to have common associates. (the Coworkers, Tara, etc.)

It doesn’t help they have growing animosity and take every little thing personally for every interaction.. and it’s only been a month or two.

Rumors begin to pick up around the park-- Just a little chatter at the bar. Just a little observation that those two sure have something between them huh? The gossiper is shushed, because did you forget who runs the place? his connection to Byron?

Luckily, the bartender didn’t seem to hear. He was busy cleaning glasses. The topic’s changed. customers continue to come and go.

One who arrives is Piper, who sits down at the bar. It’s busy, so she waits patiently for Barley to get her usual. (he’s good at that.) He sets down a coaster and the glass in front of her, but instead of a greeting and bustling away this time, he sticks around.

“Byron is well on his way to becoming a topic of interest around here...” he tells her.

She leans forward with a smile. “What have they said? And who, for that case?”

He explains what he heard, and omits the names.

Piper thoughtfully considers this. She had noticed this, but hadn’t chalked it up to a personal history, just conflict of interest. (byron was well off, belle was a thief. he would be cautious) Now that she knew, she wanted every drop of intel.

“I can talk to him. we wouldn’t want our dear coworker being talked about, do we?”

“I do not.” Barley replied, tipping his hat to bid her goodbye as he steps away to another client. He lets Piper take care of this, because he likes letting people come to him if they want to talk, and he feels that Byron would have already approached him if that were the case.

~

So, it’s another one of their patented teatime tête-à-têtes.

Piper skirts around the issue before dropping the news of whispers about the two.

But Byron doesn’t humor the topic, and refuses to talk about it.

Piper cheerfully pokes at him. “Crossed paths? Did you know her before the Park? maybe previous business associates? She robbed you, but you had good insurance, and one day she tricked you? Ooh~ Former flames-?"

And then Byron stands up and is about to leave wordlessly until that last suggestion processes bc if he doesn’t clarify now, ugh that’s gonna be what Piper thinks is plausible (kind of, bc he gay af) and he does NOT want that to be a thing.

“She’s a relative,” he says with so much distaste before he leaves that Piper is even more intrigued. but at the same time, there’s something that tells her she shouldn’t fan the fire any further.

they’ve had their share of back and forths, and it’s been a blue moon since something had gotten him so upset that he just up and leaves.

she drops it, and as the #1 gossipmonger of the park, the hushed whispers of “mystery between byron and belle?” is completely stamped out with a dismissive attitude and several “Really? I didn’t notice anything.”

If Byron really and truly didn't want this around the park, she'd honor that.

~

Of course, with QD Edgar on occasional trips with the Gang, that’s the biggest connection the sibs have at the moment.

The first time Edgar name dropped Byron, Belle froze and listened to 2.47 more seconds of the teen's rambles before telling him to get a move on around camp and quit yapping.

Edgar didn't notice this first time around and grumpily went about his way.

But I'm sure there's one thing or another that makes Edgar talk about his dad manager again, and one thing that will really piss Belle off, is comparison.

Tara, who notices the shift in mood, puts herself in between Edgar and Belle and swiftly soothes things over. She suggests getting on with the plan they have (already knowing what Belle will respond with).

"heist cancelled," Belle states, rearing up Elodie and galloping away from camp. (She usually winds down on her own after celebrating a big heist, but never before-- and never had called it quits at that.)

Edgar is put off. Tara muses that it's nothing he could help...

On her own, Belle just contemplates everything. Hours. It brings up familiar memories of being up on the rooftop with her head buried into her arms and knees feeling terrible.

Except now she's more than grown, with her share of things to be proud of and great memories she forged on her own. She's not curled up on herself anymore. She's staring to the long distance of the desert-- her home-- traveling with ease.

That stupid rooftop section of her life is nothing more than a fraction of her well-lived life.

It doesn't make her feel better.

Yet another thing Byron ruins for her without even trying.

She needed a drink.

~

Not wanting to head back to her camp for the night, and not in the mood to try nabbing some good drink, Belle simply walks into the bar and orders something.

Barley treats her the same as any Brawler, despite what he now knows about her.

As far as he was concerned, she came in there as a customer. And as long as she paid, he saw no problem in serving her...

She drinks quietly, and he keeps an eye on her intake.

And eventually, just like with any other customer with something heavy on their mind and enough drinks, words flow easier.

She doesnt use names, and keeps terms vague. Speaks angrily of her parents. Calls the brother a "dumbass of a pushover."

Now, it isnt like he associates Byron as a (pardon his french) 'dumbass' in any way, but it's the way she uses it that makes Barley connect the dots. The tone wasn't as bitter. Almost fond. Almost.

He lightly prods for a little bit more insight, and she gives up a little more as she drinks.

Unlike the other two members of his Trio, it wasn't in his nature to gossip, so this would stay between them.

Barley listens, because that's what she needs right now. Not advice, not interjections or lectures or deflecting the subject. Just someone to listen.

Eventually he cuts her off before she gets too inebriated (and probably causes trouble.)

{I AM going to write this scene out in depth. And cry while doing so.}

~

On the other side, after the season and back at the Gift Shop, Edgar is 🤔🤔 over that incident. He considers talking with Colette but 1) she's as mad as a Colette could be at the fact that he hung out with the NEW BRAWLER and TARA and didnt bother getting her ANYTHING. and 2) tbh she's a blabbermouth.

Byron does his regular check of the shop that day. Making sure Colette hasn't run off and Edgar isnt sneaking a nap.

He welcomes Edgar back from his little trivial loot and shoot games.

While Edgar hadn't even thought twice about it before, he recalls that when he had told Byron he'd be working at a different section of the park (namely with the new Brawler, Belle) he had acted just as dismissive.

Like yeah, there was your usual "old man doesn't get the teens" shenanigans, but Byron had never belittled his interest in anything before. Calling his involvement in the season a 'trivial game' sounded... personal.

He outright asks Colette if Byron was acting weird.

Any snippiness that Colette may have had for 2 minutes diminishes when there's a chance to talk with her favorite person in the world that she's seen little to none of for two months, AND about her favorite topic: Brawlers!

She spills everything she knows, because despite Piper's efforts, theres no secret a Brawler can try to keep when shes around.

She didn't find out everything of course. But she knows that there were questions involving Byron and Belle. Piper hushed it up, so for sure there was something.

Edgar nods. "Totally. I think she was close to rippin' my head off once. I brought up Byron once and she was ready to chew me out." (in case i didn't make it clear, Edgar picked up a slight drawl because of belle)

"Cool!" Colette exclaimed. "..I mean, not the rip your head off part. But that is cool too. I meant do we have lore on our hands?? That nobody ELSE knows!!?"

Edgar shushed her. Byron is in his office but the shop wasn't really sound proof.

......cue shenanigans from the Coworkers trying to figure things out in their very amateurish ways compared to Piper by "sneaking" around and "nonchalantly" trying to get him to admit something.

Byron knows they're up to something, and humors them until realizing the topic when Edgar tries bringing up the Goldarm Season.

He shuts them down even faster than Piper.

Of course, instead of deterring them like her, he just confirms their suspicions. Colette and Edgar are "o yeah we are def going to get to the bottom of this."

~

So, it's plan B! If they even try asking Piper she throws them for such a loop and leaves them so bewildered that Colette even forgets to ask for anything she could keep, and Edgar didnt realize she gave them nothing to work with until they're already out the door and down the street with cake pops in their hands.

So, Plan C! ...Barley.

It's hard to find a time to go there, since it's busy when they get off work. And Barley always seems to be at one place or another....

So the kids choose the perfect time (roughly midday), and just wait for the perfect day... when Byron comes in and checks the shop, then decides on his own that they could handle it for the rest of the shift and leaves them to it.

When the stars align, the teens wait until Byron is out of sight, and close up the gift shop. Their plan is to head to the bar... and maybe try and get something out of Barley..... not much of a plan, but they don't realize it there.

They make haste, running to the bar, because time crunch (when/if complaints start rolling in.)

Bursting through the doors of the Bar, Barley gives them a look. "Don't.. do that, please."

Colette apologizes enthusiastically, and urges Edgar forward. "Ask him! I'll keep watch!"

She hops over to the door and peers through it periodically.

Meanwhile, Edgar is stammering because he didnt plan anything to say, he expected Colette to talk to the robot.

"If you two think I allow underage drinking, I most certainly do not, no matter what Penny says." Barley warns.

"Uhh, no it isn't that. ...Umm. do ya know... well, you would know about Byron, and not Belle, I guess. But they've been acting weird lately, and we want to know why."

. . .

Barley pauses in consideration.

Options and questions flood around his mind, and he still had no answer.

Wonders if he should even mention Belle's visit some time ago, or the fact that he knows more in depth about it than Byron would care for, or that if Piper found out he knew more than her, and then told these two over would she be offended? ....Actually, in that case, why was he considering telling them anyway? Well, if they were interested in the topic for genuine reasons...

Edgar doesn't even know what to do either. Barley's not saying anything.

Colette squeaks, and scrambles from the door. "Edgar!! Any luck here? Because we're out of it over there!"

"What?"

"I think I see Byron heading here!!"

Who would have thought.

this is where i kind of dropped off the outline, but to continue/wrap it up, Barley points them to the curtain that covers the back room. There's an exit there which he tells them about, but the teens stay to EAVESDROP bc they care.

Barley and Byron chat. the conversation dips into the area having to do with Belle.

Byron frowns. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to get me to admit something, Barley. I can understand Piper, but you?"

"Me?" Barley asks. "Sir, you know I never mean harm."

"..." Byron stares at him unconvinced. "If Piper did put you up to this, you can tell me."

"U.. Believe it or not, I am among others in this park who care about you, Byron."

"...." wouldn't that be nice. But Byron believes him. My bad. He humors his coworker for now. "Fine." And asks for a drink.

Barley gets him his preferred one. [Lol I'll come up with it eventually.]

They talk. Barley finds out a little more. But just a little bit. Byron... it isnt like he has practice talking about ☆~feelings~☆

The teens listening in leave before too long. Colette is like O.O;; and Edgar decides that all they wanted to know was the relation between Byron and Belle, and they got that.

She agrees, and they both leave through the back door.

Byron didn't get as drunk ofc, it's still his working hours. Just enough to loosen up a bit and get through mild robot therapy.

After his leave, Barley sees him off, and then goes to check in the back. They're gone and he has a brief "oh, thought they would have gotten the hint to, listen in. Oh, well."

[There's one more event, involving the Coworkers interacting with Belle one last time, but still unplanned <3 it leads to the meet up and the fight... somehow though. I'll release that when I think of it.]

I can also see Piper being ":0 you knew before I did? And didn't tell me? You're mischievous, Barley!" In a very light hearted way at the very end.

Barley frets ;;; "I am not!"

[violet-knox]

Imagine getting a panic attack in the middle of Potion’s class with Professor Snape

Request: Could you you do a Snape x Reader fic where someone fucks up in his class and it just caught him on a bad day so that launches him on a rampage and he's just chewing this kid out, like really screaming about how incompetent they are when on the other side of the class reader starts having a massive panic attack. Like full on shaking and loudly hyperventilating and she just cant get up to leave cause she's frozen with fear and Snape sees this and is like oh shit I fucked up. Eventually the student just leaves the class not even asking first. Just runs out and doesn't return, leaving him feeling horrible until the student finally returns to class a few days later and he apologizes. 

Word Count: 1689

A/N: Thank you @aquananner24 for the request! I hope you enjoy! Also, as mentioned previously, I don’t do romantic or platonic student/teacher relationships so this is NOT a pairing. I also changed the plot a bit and I also made the reader a Hufflepuff, but the idea is still the same. Also also, thought I’d try something a little different this time so this is mostly in Sev’s POV written in third person. 

- Preposterous was the only word that could truly sum up this year’s events. How could Dumbledore pick this buffoon over him to teach Defense? All these years he’d been passed over on the position, he’d watched Professor after Professor fail at their post but this had to be the biggest insult yet. Severus had actually ‘taught’ (and he had to use that word loosely) this idiot prancing around as if he was some heroic Wizard to be praised for deeds he likely never had a hand in completing. 

- Gilderoy Lockhart. What a joke and perhaps that’s what this was; a practical joke the Headmaster had decided to play to see how many of Severus’ buttons he could press. It was bad enough the Dark Lord’s return had almost come to pass last year, but this- petrified students and a reopening of the Chamber of Secrets, had Severus truly believing the mere presence of the Potter boy to be a menace to the school. 

- Already the school had broken into chaos and he wasn’t sure if he would live to see the boy’s graduation at this rate, the school sure to explode from the destruction he brought with him before then. It was a shame the boy hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin, else all of this would likely have been avoided with him back with that wench Petunia after his inevitable expulsion. 

- Despite it all, Severus had still managed to fulfill his job as Potions Master, teaching those ungrateful ingrates and keep the storeroom stocked in the infirmary. But would one day break from the chaos really be too much to ask? Just 24 hours of peace was all he wanted.

- “Put away your wands and have your quills ready,” he said as he burst through the Potion’s classroom, billowing his way to the front of the room. At least the boy wasn’t in his morning class, at least he could be granted some sort of serenity teaching his Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. 

- Well, that’s what he’d thought before stepping into a classroom full of nothing but gossip passed from one student to the next. Rumours always seemed to spread so easily through the castle walls but why this? Of all the ridiculous theories they could have come up with students had somehow convinced himself that Potter was the descendant of Slytherin himself. The mere thought of his father having any sort of relation to a man that founded this great school was repulsive enough to put him in an even worse mood than he was in these last few weeks.

- “Have you gone deaf or are you simply incapable of following the simplest of instructions Miss. Lovegood?” He hadn’t even bothered to spin around as he spotted the girl with the latest edition of the Quibbler in her hand in the corner of his eye. With one foul swoop he finished writing out the instructions for today’s potion before whipping out his wand and vanishing the Magazine from her hand. “Quills out! I won’t ask a second time!”

- He normally didn’t mind the girl’s absurd theories, so long as they remained just that, simple unfounded theories, but it seemed as though today she’d decided to approach things a little different. The class had barely begun brewing their potions when he heard mention of moon frogs coming from Lovegood’s direction.

- “Despite your clear interest in fiction over the study of a perfected science, I still expect you able enough to remove your head from the cloud of your imagination for two hours and learn something useful! Or perhaps you find stories of fairytail creatures fascinating enough that you believe spewing this nonsense would earn you a passing grade in my class. Should I call Hagrid or perhaps the ministry to investigate this seemingly newfound knowledge you’ve discovered?”

- Severus felt himself letting go of his frustrations, taking it all out on this girl who really hadn’t done anything to deserve such a scolding. Sure, she was quirky and odd, but when had that ever been a crime? If it was, he certainly would have been guilty of it at her age and if anyone were to see what he’d done with the spare bedroom in his house without context, filling it with all those jars full of animal parts, they certainly would have freak out at the very least. 

- Still he continued to batter her, regrettable words spilling out of his mouth and the more they bounced off her, the more irritable he became. And despite his harsh words, the girl simply sat there batting her eyes as if his comments were nothing more than passing criticism. 

- He was normally so observant, always aware of his students and their display of idiocy, but in this moment of rage and outburst, he’d let himself go. He’d forgotten for a moment where he stood and neglected to realize one of his Hufflepuffs beginning to hyperventilate as he continued lecturing Miss. Moon-Frogs on her inability to attach herself to the real world. 

- “What is the meaning of this?” He snapped as he stepped towards the Hufflepuff sitting in the farthest corner of the room. She was tearing up, crying as if she’d just watched him rip out her puppy’s heart and he couldn’t fathom what could have possibly warranted such a reaction when the entire class was doing nothing but watch his outburst the last few minutes.

- He tried to shift his attention to her, but the second he turned in her direction, she’d sprung up from her seat as though if he got any closer to her, she’d instantly retract Dragon Pox. He watched her tremble and stumble over herself as she struggled to see through her tears and sprint out the door.

- He froze a moment, taken a bit by surprise. After all these years of sarcastic comments and strict mannerisms, never had one of his student’s walked out of his class before. 

- “Get back to work,” he blurted out as he made his way to the door, running after her. “I expect all your potions to be near completion when I return.” 

- He didn’t have to travel very far before catching up with her, finding her bundled on the floor into a ball as she hugged her knees, sobbing with her head hung low. Examining her shacking body and trembling hands, he began to feel a sense of familiarity as he realized she’d had a panic attack during class, likely triggered by something. It only took him a short moment to fit all the pieces together and realized that he’d been the cause of this. This girl’s current state was his own doing.

- Guilt seeped into his chest as he recalled his own past traumas. How he’d used to wake up in the middle of the night, shacking from the reoccurring night terrors that had only passed after he’d worked relentlessly night after night and strengthened the Sleepless Dream Potion. 

- Approaching her slowly, he kept a safe distance as he lowered himself, kneeling on the stone floor, trying to think of any way he could possibly repent his mistakes. 

- “Miss. (Y/L/N),” he spoke softly, careful not to worsen the situation. Closing his eyes, he thought back to his own time huddled into a corner as she had done now and spoke the words he’d hoped someone had said to him at that time. “I apologize for my behaviour. I should not have lost my composure as I did, and I apologize for that.”

- Pausing, he let out a gentle sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair and swiftly stood to quickly make his way back to his classroom.

- You’d only heard the faint echo of his footsteps as he walked away from you, surprised at the fact he’d left you alone when you’d fully expected him to throw some of those nasty comments he was handing Loony Lovegood your way. Your mind went blank as you sat there in silence, ridding you of the old memories your Professor had raised.

- His sudden calmness had somehow snapped you back to reality as thoughts of curiosity overwhelmed you instead. You hugged your knees closer to your chest while you watched through the corner of your eyes as he returned to you, kneeling before you like he’d previously done. 

- “Calming Draught,” he stated, and you heard the sound of a glass vial placed on the stone floor beside you. “And Sleepless Dream if you find yourself up tonight.”

- He placed the second vial beside the first as he sat there watching her peer down at his offering. Her tears had stopped but it was clear she was not yet prepared to return to class.  

- Deciding the best thing for her was to give her time, he prepared himself to head back into the classroom without her, taking one last glance at the girl before speaking once more. “When you’re ready, I trust you can find your way to your Head of House. When you see her, hand her this.”

- And with that, he slid a small folded note towards her containing the explanation for her state, her Potions Professor taking complete responsibility for the situation and mention of excusing the rest of the day’s classes. He swiftly made his way back to his classroom, looking back to see her slowly reach out for the Calming Draught, secretly content he hadn’t completely failed his duties as a Professor. 

- Severus was careful from that day on with his temper, taking a small sip of Calming Draught before class if he ever found that bubble in his gut about to burst again. And by the looks of how this year was turning out, he was likely to need a lot more of it if he wanted to get through the year without poisoning a certain irritable Professor. Then again, would the world really miss another failed Defense Professor if he was to be replaced again next year?

@marvelschriss​ @bush-viper-cutie​

[hailbop1701]

Chapter Three: An Explosively Good Time

Chapter three guys! I'm both nervous and excited for you all to read it. It's pretty long and we delve a bit deeper into the story. Kirk wants answers and Bones needs a new shirt. 👀 Well, I don't want to give anything away. I truly hope you all like it! Thank you to my wonderful beta reader @dw-writes. You're amazing doll!

The tram slowed to a smooth stop, John lifted his weapon just as the doors opened. He swept the area with Beckworth on his left. Nodding to the security officer, John moved forward making sure Kirk and Chekov were just behind him. Taking up the rear of the group were Lawrence and Bitar, bickering all the while. Rolling his eyes, John squared his shoulders as he led the group into the residential area. The double doors hissed open to reveal a courtyard and John couldn’t help but appreciate how real it truly looked. Cobblestones, rich green plants, a running fountain, and automated birds chirping happily.

Beckworth let out a low whistle from beside him, “Fancy digs,” he murmured with an amused smirk. John stopped, listening for any possible threats that could be hiding in the area. Nothing. Just the hum of the base and the bubble of the fountain in front of them. It was way too quiet and peaceful for his comfort.

Jim moved so he was standing on his other side. “I don’t like it,” the Captain whispered to him.

John hummed in agreement, something didn’t feel right. He almost let out a snort. ‘Nothing about any of this feels right,’ he thought. The hair on his neck stood on end. John scanned the area again, only this time he eyed the plant life and the cobblestones. All of this said “TRAP”

Lawrence walked forward, his gaze on the plant life all around them instead of what was right in front of his nose.

Spotting what he was looking for, John hissed and was behind the young man within seconds, he grabbed the kid’s vest and yanked him back.

Lawrence yelped as he fell onto his ass, “What the-”

John held up a hand to silence gasps and yells of surprise. He then pointed at a thin fine wire mere inches away from where the security officer had been standing.

“Shit,” Beckworth grumbled crouching down to get a better look at the “Booby trap.”

“Holy crap, thanks Doc.” Lawrence gasped out as he scrambled to his feet again.

Bitar rolled her eyes. Reaching up, she gave Lawrence a swift smack upside the head. The action started a whole new bickering match.

John sighed, gesturing for the others to follow him and move out of the way. Pulling a knife from his boot, he gently tossed it up into the air before catching it nimbly by the blade. With a quick flick of the wrist, the knife shot from his hand. Spinning in the air a couple of times, the blade sliced through the wire before embedding itself into the cobblestone. Cocking his head to the side, he heard a mechanism click. Chekov let out a startled squeal as a haphazard metal spike trap sprung from the bushes and trees. Grunting, John strode forward, he examined the trap with a deep frown.

“Used pretty recently,” he muttered, touching one of the spikes. He showed his fingers to the group, “Fresh blood, and someone had to have reset it.” He wiped his hand on his pants.

Kirk furrowed his brow in confusion. “Do you think that means we’re not the only ones surviving here?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

John jerked his knife free from the path. He grimaced at his friend. “Honestly? It could go either way,”

Jim wasn’t the only one looking at him with a confused expression. Sighing John fiddled with the knife in his hands. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. He really didn’t want to give his best friend any more bad news. Sheathing the knife back in his boot, John pulled his tricorder free. Scanning the blood he began to explain. “This stuff can really mess with your head, and I’m not just talking about C-24 fucking with your DNA. Being hunted by monsters with an extreme possibility of never making it out, and a chance that you’d turn into something that is worse than death...well, I’ve seen highly trained and skilled men crack. Go insane and beyond reason.” He paused as the scanner chimed with the results that he wanted. Turning the device around so the screen faced the group in front of him. Chekov’s mouth dropped open in shock, he looked at John with horror in his eyes. John continued, “The blood has no trace of C-24 or any sick and twisted variation. It’s completely human…” He paused glancing at the screen again, “And Andorian, and Vulcan,”

Kirk choked for a second, “So you’re telling me that the trap was made by a living person and they’re killing other living people?”

John put the tricorder away, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

Chekov took a shuddering breath, while Kirk just set his jaw. “So we’re being hunted on two fronts,” the Captain sighed, running a hand messily through his hair. Beckworth’s eyes darted around the peaceful courtyard with a healthy dose of paranoia. His younger security officers ceased their quiet bickering and pulled out their phasers, ready for a surprise attack.

Reaper clenched his jaw and tensed. The hair on the back of his neck and his arms stood straight up. They were being watched, and not just by the cameras, but by a live body. He could hear their heartbeat thudding deeply in their chest. In his periphery, John saw a shadow on the second story landing.

Jim Kirk knew Leonard McCoy. Even though he may not have known as much as he originally thought. So when Bones - Reaper- tensed, he knew something was wrong. “Bones…” Jim prompted, trying to keep as casual as possible. The man tilted his head to the left; a subtle gesture but Kirk got what his CMO was trying to say: “Someone is watching”

Out of the corner of his eye, John watched as a shadow quickly disappeared. The sound of muffled hurried footsteps echoed in his ears. “Beckworth,” his voice carried no southern drawl but reverberated with authority. Beckworth couldn’t help but stand up straighter. In fact, everyone stood up a bit straighter, even the Captain.

“Yes, sir?”

“Get everyone to the third floor, there’s a bridge up there that attaches to the rest of the shopping district.” His orders were clear and without room for argument. Jim opened his mouth to protest but Chekov beat him to it.

“But what about you?” he asked, eyes wide.

John couldn’t help but smirk at the young navigator. With a half-hearted shrug, he turned to look at the second-floor balcony. “I’m gonna go say hello to the locals,” he muttered while moving off. The rest of the away team watched slack-jawed as Reaper bounded up onto a nearby chair, and table before he lept up, catching hold of a stone carving halfway to the second floor.

“Jesus, McCoy!” Beckworth called out with a short hysterical laugh.

John easily clambered up to the second floor. Swinging himself up onto the metal banister, Reaper sat and appraised his surroundings. From this vantage point, he saw a lot more, he couldn’t decide if his new view was a good thing or not.

The courtyard was clean at first glance, but from where he was John saw the gore underneath all the beauty. There were multiple bodies hidden in the garden, blood tainted the fountain and coated the walls surrounding him. Frowning, John leaned back on the banister to look down the long hallway. He was being watched again. Glancing down, he saw that the group was making their way through to the stairs. Nodding in approval, John rolled off of the banister onto the dirty corridor floor. A long blue - or what used to be blue carpet was covered in blood and torn to shreds - lined the hall. If John could hazard a guess, he had a faint idea of what wandered through. ‘ Damn Hell Knights,’ he thought darkly.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Reaper let his surroundings disappear for a moment. He could hear the base thrum under his feet, but it was growing faint; they were on the clock. The heartbeats of the rest of the away team thudded steadily, some rapid in fear, some in calm easy thuds. Then there was what was a lot closer. Running footsteps, and labored breathing. It was heading straight for him. John sighed sadly; this wasn’t going to end well.

Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders, John opened his eyes just as a blur of a man jumped at him. Quickly stepping to the side, John saw what had been killing everything and anything. The man was ragged like he had been surviving in this hell hole for quite some time. His hair was long and matted, full of knots, and coated in many different substances. His clothes were ripped and repaired and ripped again. Reaper wrinkled his nose, pitty filling his gut.

‘Poor bastard,’ was all that ran through his mind as the cracked man screamed at him, pouncing again. John leaned back, holding up his arm, only noticing the makeshift knife at the last second. Letting out a string of curses, Reaper kicked away the madman and looked at the shank sticking out of his arm with an annoyed expression.

“God fucking damnit!” he hissed, yanking the blade out of his forearm.

The man he had batted away looked at John in pure terror. “Demon!” the man shrieked, pointing at John with an accusing finger. Rolling his eyes, Reaper tossed the knife away over the side of the nearby banister. He could hear it clunk against a mass of water as it landed in the fountain.

“You’re not the first to call me that, and you’re sure as hell won’t be the last,” he drawled to the man, who was scurrying backward away from John as fast as he possibly could. John held up his hand peacefully, “Easy now, I’m not gonna touch you.”

The ragged man stopped his scuttling and paused. He looked visibly confused. “You’re not- who are you?” he asked, voice raspy and raw.

Reaper chewed on the inside of his cheek; Jim called it his nervous tick. “My name is Doctor Leonard McCoy, I arrived on the USS Enterprise. My team and I are trapped here just like you,” he soothed trying to bring out the humanity in the man before him.

“Enterprise,” the man breathed eyes wide, his breathing quickened, almost panicked. “No, no, no,” The man shook his head in denial, he reared and screamed “No!” once more before he started laughing. It was hysterical and Reaper was now completely convinced that the guy was way too far gone.

John watched the man carefully, trying to figure out if he needed to be taken care of or just locked away in a closet until they could get back to the ship. But before the ex-privine could formulate a plan of action, the survivor abruptly stopped laughing, looking as serious as could be. “You’re the one she wants. Death himself.” The words were in a hissed whisper as if speaking any louder would bring forth the demons lurking in the shadows. John froze, body tense ready for an oncoming attack but none came. “You can’t run away from your past forever. If you do those around you are going to suffer and die.” With those final words, the man whirled around and sprinted at break-neck speed down the long hallway. “Face your past Grimm!” he hollered as he rounded a corner and was out of sight.

That was until John heard him let out a startled scream. To anyone else, it sounds as if a paint-filled balloon popped behind a closed door but, to Reaper, it sounded almost too familiar. During the third world war, John experienced a new form of suicide bombers. The bombs weren’t visible, you could almost never tell it was there until it was too late. “SCED” or “Subcutaneous Explosive Device.”

Reaper flinched at the memories that assaulted the forefront of his mind. During world war three John was not officially in the armed forces but had stepped in multiple times to help the wounded and civilians to safety. During that time he had seen and experienced firsthand what a “SCED” could do. Shaking his head, John moved cautiously forward and peered around the corner. John choked on his breath his eyes went wide,

“Shit,” he cursed, stepping out to take in the scene full on. The corridor was dripping and smoking. Blackened blood coated the walls and floor, parts of more than one person could be identified. What made John’s stomach churn and made his scientific mind curious was the fact that the blood was smoking. The man who had run from him was laid curled up on the floor, covered and burnt beyond recognition.

Kneeling down, John examined the man more closely: he was missing a couple of limbs and his face was stuck in a silent scream. ‘Burns aren’t consistent with an explosion,’ he thought with a furrowed brow. Cocking his head to the side, John sniffed the air and immediately sneezed. Wrinkling his nose, Reaper scowled. “Acid. It smells like fucking acid,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “What in the hell are these things mutating into?” he asked himself quietly as he slowly got back to his feet.

A low rumbling growl made John freeze and cautiously turn around. There stood a very large, incredibly fat infected not even ten feet away from him. Raising an eyebrow, John harrumphed, “Well, aren’t you all quiet-like. I’m impressed with you bein’ as big as you are.”

He had never seen an infected like this before; John fully just realized that he was in completely new territory. The demon snorted, seemingly unimpressed by Reaper. It stepped forward, its form expanding and gurgling as it went. Backing up, John reached and pulled his rifle from his back and took aim. The demon let out a blood-curdling scream as it expanded further, its skin pulled apart and cracked, revealing a glowing blackness underneath.

John fired just as the monster before him blew. The final thought that ran through his mind for quite some time was simple: “Fuck me,”

------------------oOo----------------

Sound was the first thing that came back to him. It wasn’t that spectacular if he were being honest. His head ached and the ringing in his ears was starting to piss him off. Groaning, John rolled to his side so he was sitting up on his elbow. His vision was blurry but was quickly clearing, and he grimaced as his surroundings came into focus. The area was worse off than before, the walls were practically melting and Reaper didn’t want to find out if this was going to cause a hull breach. Quickly pulling his rifle from under him - it was a miracle in itself that he managed to save it last second- and got to his feet, John stumbled down the corridor until he hit the stairwell. ‘Third floor,’ he thought numbly, he could faintly feel his burns and other fractures slowly knit back together. The healing process didn’t take long but it was damn uncomfortable. It felt as if his whole body had gone to sleep, the sensation of old TV static. It was always a painful experience.

Staggering up the stairs, John let out a sigh of relief as the numbness in his body began to fade. “ ‘bout fucking time!” he growled out as he made his way to the third floor. As soon as he was close enough for the sensor, the door hissed open.

Multiple cries of concern and joy filled his ears.

“Bones!”

“Doc!”

“Thank the Gods, we thought you were dead!”

And Chekov’s accented, “Doctor McCoy,” made him smile minutely.

Waving away whoever’s hand was trying to help him through the door, John straightened and cracked his back and neck. He looked closely at the group in front of him with a doctor’s eye before nodding satisfied.

Kirk coughed trying to cover a chuckle, “Ugh Bones, you uh need a new shirt,” he faked whispered, and pointed out the obvious.

Reaper rolled his eyes, “Oh gee Jim, I haven’t noticed,” he ground out.

The Captain scowled back half-heartedly but everyone could see his concern. “You okay?”

“I just got blown up by a fleshy acid bomb and I’m stuck in what has to be one of my worst nightmares. I’m - “ Reaper took a deep breath and shook his head. “I’m fuckin’ fantastic. This place should rate five stars, too bad Yelp is no longer a thing,” he muttered walking toward one of the residential quarters. Kirk grimaced at the blatant sarcasm, McCoy’s tone and quips were answer enough.

John squinted at the nameplate next to the door controls, his lip twitching in irritation. Sure, he was glad to see the away team unharmed, but the exploding demon really wrecked what was left of his day; though that wasn’t saying much.

“Well, Daniel Garrets, I hope you have a shirt my size,” John muttered punching the door just right. Bitar let out a soft curse from the group behind him as the door bent and caved in ever so slightly. Pushing his fingers into the small gap John yanked the door open easily. The door let out a shuddering groan as it was forced to roll on its track. Light from the corridor shown faintly into the dark room. Before anyone could go in, Reaper held up a halting hand and cocked his head to the side, listening. He breathed in deeply and all he could smell was must and dust.

Nothing had been in there for quite some time.

Moving in, John pulled his rifle around so it was aimed into the darkness; he’d rather be safe than sorry. Despite his gun being slightly melted it still worked perfectly fine. Reaper didn’t want to express it but he was rather impressed by how detailed the replica truly was.

Clearing the room, John waved the rest of the team in. John eyed down both sides of the hallway before he forced the door closed with a deafening squeal. Turning around, he saw that Chekov all but collapsed in a chair, his nose buried in a PADD. Jim paced the length of the room in deep thought, muttering to himself. The three from security were quietly talking about the best way to keep their captain and Chekov safe. John wasn’t the least bit offended that he was no longer included in that list. Though it did make him a bit sad, it was a step closer to leaving the Enterprise. To leaving his first home in a long, long time.

Sighing, Reaper shucked his rifle and his tattered shirt. Bare-chested he moved through the small room to the closet, silently praying that the man who had once lived there wore the same size. Opening the closet John frowned a little, not quite but close enough. Grabbing a simple black t-shirt from the hanger he pulled it over his head and rolled his shoulders so it fit on his frame better. Turning from the closet he moved into the bathroom.

Upon finding the sink, John started the tap and let the water run for a few seconds before ducking his head under the stream. Grumbling, he ran his hands through his hair trying his best to pull the matted blood and bone from the tresses. Lifting his head he saw Jim in the mirror. He was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, an almost unreadable expression on his face. He wanted answers now.

The shock of the reveal was wearing off and now Jim Kirk wasn’t going to hold back anymore. Veera’s dramatic reveal was something he didn’t want to believe but now he didn’t have a choice. Since the atrium, Jim has been in complete and utter denial. He had seen what his best friend could do, he had seen how different he was. Jim’s eyes flashed in the light, his jaw set. No more joking, no more keeping up his causal maverick front. He was pissed and McCoy - Grimm- was going to see it. But no matter who Bones was. He will always be Jim’s friend. He had already decided to hear the man out. To listen to what he had to say, to hear what’s true and what’s fiction.

Reaper hummed and jerked his head, inviting Kirk into the small space. Moving into the room, the starship captain kept silent waiting for his friend to talk. As he carefully thought over his words, John rummaged through the cabinets around him, after he found what he was looking for (an electric razor) he finally spoke.

“I told you the gist of what happened on Mars. Olduvai. It was an honest to god shit show, Jim. Eight fully trained specialized privines - eh private military contractors - were sent in to search for some scientists. Well, we sure as hell found them.” John let out a dark humorless laugh and shook his head. He was halfway done cutting down his hair, it was no longer messy but shortened and military. John swallowed hard, he looked just as he did when this all happened the first time.

Kirk thinned his lips as he let his friend search for the words he was looking for. Reaper brushed away the dirty hair from his shirt and clicked off the razor. He turned and leaned against the sink, crossing his arms he looked down at his boots.

“We found that the research up there wasn’t exactly kosher. They uncovered humanoid remains in the archeological dig and found that some of these remains had a synthetic chromosome. It made them superhuman. Faster, stronger, incredibly intelligent, and apparently live obscenely long lives. The Oldulvians ruined themselves and we almost followed in their footsteps more than once. They created a rudimentary transporter called the Ark and fled to Earth to escape themselves. You see, C-24 didn’t affect everyone the same way. There were some that turned into monsters.

My sister - Sam- who was an unwitting accomplice in all of this, had a theory that it only turned those with genes that had markers for insanity. She was actually the one who discovered that not everyone would turn into monsters. But, by that time, my CO had lost what was left of his sanity. He began to kill everyone whether they were infected or not, and at this point, some infected had gotten through the Ark and into the Earth facility. No matter how horrible it sounds, but we were lucky that the quarantine was still active at that time. A little over two hundred people died, men, women, and children, my unit included. Only Sam and I made it out.”

Kirk was smart enough to figure out this was a shortened account of events but it was enough for now. He nodded but frowned, “How did you get C-24?” he asked curiously.

John snorted, chuckling darkly. “Projectile weapons are a bitch kid. I got a damn ricochet in the gut. I was bleeding out and on my way to hell but my sister decided to take a gamble and inject my ass. Turns out she was right, but it had its consequences.” John ran a hand through his newly cut hair, a haunted look crossing his face. He looked up, “For what it’s worth Jim, I’m sorry.”

Kirk looked away his expression guarded. John knew he wasn’t going to get away cleanly but knowing the outcome of something didn’t make it hurt any less. His eyes were locked onto the floor, he was wound tighter than piano chords. He was expecting to be shouted at, told to go to hell. And he believed he deserves it.

“What can we expect here, Bones?”

John relaxed ever so slightly, shocked at Kirk’s tone. It showed less anger and frustration and more like his friend, John wasn’t forgiven yet but it was a start. He grumbled, “Well, we can expect strong ass monsters who want to either turn you or eat you. Other than that, I’m in new territory. This is completely new and, if I had a month, maybe I could tell you how much of a difference it is. The crazy pirate bitch changed things so much that it shouldn’t even be called C-24 anymore. Who knows what else is lurking out there.”

John could see how much Jim didn’t want to hear that by the set of his jaw.

“Keptin, Doctor!” Both men turned to face Chekov as he barreled into the small room holding up his PADD.

“What is it, Chekov?” Jim asked hopefully. The young man turned the PADD around and showed them a single dot on what appeared to be a map of Genesis.

“Sir, I managed to vind this under the station's jamming signal. It appears that there is another Starfleet officer trapped here! “

John and Kirk looked at each other, both were wondering if it could be a trap. “Is it just a signal or-”

Chekov was already shaking his head before Jim could finish. “No, there is a single message attached to the ping. It just says a name and some sort of code…” he trailed off as he tapped hurriedly at the screen. Turning the PADD around Chekov let the message play.

John felt his blood freeze.

“This is Layla Grimm, I’ve been compromised. Code: Ghost, I repeat - Code: Ghost! Run Uncle J-”

Reaper felt his knees buckle as screams filled the air of the bathroom. He faintly felt Jim grip his arm trying to keep him upright. His blood pulsed in his ears and all he could see was red. The look in John’s eyes made both Kirk and Pavel back up a step giving the CMO some space. John gritted his teeth breathing hard. “Where was that sent from?” his voice was sharp, making Jim wince.

Chekov cleared his throat as he looked down at the screen in his hands. “The medical wing sir,”

John looked at Kirk who just nodded in approval.

“Looks like we’re goin’ hunting.”

Tags:

Everything: @thottiewithashotgun, @lauraaan182, @writerdee1701, @stileslover13-blog, @cowenby2, @bluesclues-1234

Hollow Castle: @chook007, @lauranthalasah

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

Before I forget or get to tired to open my laptop after work, as promised here’s the second chapter I said I’d post today lol. This chapter was a little challenging to write but actually fun in a sad way. I hope I did okay with it and that you all like it!

Love Is a Burning Thing and It Makes a Fiery Ring pt.3

            Jason Todd was all too familiar with feeling like he screwed up. He couldn’t hammer it in any other way. He knew he took action without thinking the action through. It was his weakness, he laughed to himself. The Robin knew he shouldn’t be laughing, feeling the sting in his right cheek burning something fierce at the movement but he could feel the karma behind his actions finally catching up to him.

           His head hung low, thinking back to mere hours ago when his body wasn’t hung up and in pain and he actually felt pleasure.  Or even just back mere hours ago when he was the one dishing out the pain instead. Back when it didn’t feel so real like it did in this moment. Back when it felt like a playful game.  

           “Six!” Robin had huffed out, his foot retracting from the Joker goon he had taken down. He twirled around, round house kicking another, smirking as he did so. As the steel toed boot met with the goon’s face, Jason counted off again, “Seven!”

           “You’re still behind!” Nightshade chimed in, her own grin gracing her lips as she pushed further through the groaning bodies left in her wake.

           He watched from the corner of his eyes as she slide past him, knocking down two more along the way. She tossed out small chrome balls as she skidded to a halt, letting them roll in between another set that stood in between them. In a second she was clicking the flashing red button of a device pulled out from her belt, activating the little bombs.

           They exploded, emitting out a smoke. The smoke trailed up and into the nostrils of the clowns, efficiently knocking them out. Jumping up from her crouched position on the floor, she placed her hands on her hips as the room was now clear.

           “Eleven.” She boasted.  

           The mission was supposed to be as simple as that, Jason thought. They were too keep Joker’s goons distracted and down while Batman went after the Joker himself. They should’ve known that it wouldn’t play out that way though. Nothing ever played out easily in their line of work and Jason cursed that they thought this would be any different; especially when dealing with the Clown Prince of Crime.

           The clowns laughter rang through Jason’s ears as he instinctively jerked against his restraints. He shouldn’t have taken a break from trying to free himself of the tight rope that kept him dangling over the floor. Even with his eyes covered, he knew he was in danger and knew he needed to keep trying to escape. He had no doubt Batman was on his way to get him but he also didn’t want to be caught being completely helpless; Bruce would surely chew him out later for this.

           “Let’s go,” Robin had said once they finished securing the henchman, tying them up to the pillars in the open warehouse room.

           “Batman said to wait here for his signal.” Nightshade reminded, shooting him a glance as she looked around the room.

           She usually would hear her boyfriend out but she didn’t want to chance this getting messy by doing so. Joker had been making appearances in Bosnia of all places.  He was bombing banks and terrorizing the city. Nightshade knew how determined Batman was in preventing the Joker from spreading his madness outside of Gotham and she agreed so she was going to follow orders.

           Jason still remembered her sour face when he insisted they go help Batman take down Joker and how he wished he hadn’t pushed it. Her gasps for air was still fresh in his mind, replaying over and over, even after hours of them being silenced. He could still hear it over his own grunts and yells as he was again meet with hit after hit.  The pain didn’t cease even after the onslaught stopped, even if it was just momentarily.

           She had dropped down to her knees after the room was suddenly filled with green smoke; it was Joker’s own venom of laughing gas. Robin’s eyes widened, trying to hold his breathe and reach her but it was too late. He was dropped down to his own knees and hacking up his own lung as well. They both felt strange as the smoke entered their systems nulling their ability to fight back. They both felt light but also heavy. And was the room getting hotter?

           As the sensation continued they found themselves laughing for no particular reason. There was nothing funny about the situation as both desperately tried to catch their breaths and reach the other for help.  Nightshade felt her eyes water as she found herself unable to stop, shakenly snaking a hand up to cover her mouth and suppress the giggles as much as she could.

           The Joker appeared next, smirking down at the two sidekicks. He had explained how he could only carry one of them and it was up to them to choose. And of course Jason offered himself up, he wasn’t going to just let him take Halley away from him. Even now, as his body screamed at him for playing hero, he didn’t regret it.  

           The image of her horrified face and twisted smile was still burnt into his mind as the Joker lifted him up and started taking him away from her. He knew he couldn’t have looked any better, having laughed just as hard as she had. They laughed themselves into a lull, eventually the lack of oxygen knocking them out cold only to be woken up in a sweaty haze as they were separated.

           He was relieved when he found her nowhere in sight when he came too. A greater part of him was surprised that the Joker kept his word and really only took Jason. Though, he was still waiting for him to pop out with Halley with him. He tried not to think about that though, hoping that Bruce found her before the gas truly got to her and that Bruce was now on his way to him.

           He was blind folded but not wanting to waiting around from Bruce, still tried to get some sort of insight on his surroundings, even with his feet barely able to touch the floor and his hands tied up above his head. He knew they hadn’t left Bosnia yet, feeling the cold from the snowy outdoors from inside whatever building he was in.

           The first time he heard that he wasn’t alone he angrily kicked out as he heard a door slam shut and footsteps headed his way. He swore, cursed and spat threats but was silenced himself the moment the beating began. The only thing that came out of his mouth were grunts as he heard the Joker cackle as he beat him senseless with what Jason could only assume was a crowbar.

           That had been while ago, The Joker giving up for what felt like hours but then minutes once it began again. He braced himself this time as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the pain to intensify. It did but not in the way he expected. The bright lights in the room hurt his eyes as the sack was ripped from his head. His sight was given back and he partially wished it wasn’t or that he was a least still hallucinating from the Joker venom.

           Jason felt sick as now Joker began to taunt him. He teased him about how easily he gave himself up. He teased him for being so weak and showing just how fragile robins were without a flying rodent to come swooping in to save them. But what really made him snap was when he started to bring in the one person he shouldn’t have into it. The moment the Joker started proclaiming all the vile and despicable he’d done if it was Halley that he had taken was the moment Jason found himself finding his voice again, regrettably.

           “Fuck you!” Jason spat, spitting his own blood up at the man. “Don’t you fuckin’ think about putting one of your pasty ass hands on her!”

           “Tt, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Joker’s face fell blank, wiping the blood from his cheek. He found himself pulling the edges of his lip up into a smirk.

           He pulled out a small dagger, freeing the boy with it by cutting him down from his hanging position, still keeping his hands bound but letting him drop to the floor in a heap. Jason grunted as he hit the concrete floor, glaring up at the Joker who was now pointing the knife teasingly at him, waving it about as he spoke,

            “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how close you two are; gallivanting throughout Gotham at night when you’re supposed to be working. You may be able to pull one over old’ Batsy but you can’t pull one over your Uncle J now.” The Joker clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, putting the knife away and reaching down to the floor where he had previously left the crowbar he used on the boy prier.

           Jason couldn’t tell you how long he’d been in the care of the Joker, but it hadn’t kicked in as quickly as they should have about keeping his mouth shut. Jason knew he should’ve shut his mouth hours ago, knowing that he was practically asking for it now. He’d bit through pain as long as the Joker’s attention was on him and not talking about her. He took it, taunting him with “is that the best you can do” and “I’ve had worse”.

           He kept it up until he physically couldn’t anymore, his voice loosing itself and his body unable to hide how much damage he took any longer. After one particular hit with the crowbar, his already weak state looked weaker, jerking forward to try and get away. Jason couldn’t hold back the cough, feeling his just how dry his throat was.

           “Wow, that one looked like it really hurt,” the Joker looked down at him, grimacing.

           Even with saying that, he didn’t stop, bringing the crowbar down again and again until he eventually reached down and threw him to the side, making him lay on his back now. The corners of his lips twisting upwards some more as he gently tapped the crowbar against the palm of his hand.

           “Whoa, hang on now, Boy Wonder that looked like it hurt a lot more; so let’s try and clear this up okay, pumpkin?” he smiled down at him. “What hurts more? A?” he hit the boy again, “Or B?” and again.

           Jason tried to lay out some retort but the only thing that came out where a stumble of grunts and hoarse incomprehensible words. The Joker left out a laugh turning his head to look at him, mimicking his meager attempts at forming words. He stood up, fixing his suit jacket. He stood over Jason, relishing in the glare that the boy shot up at him. The boy clearly hadn’t learned his lesson as he spat blood out onto the Joker’s shoes.

           “Now that was just rude,” he said, his face looking offended but didn’t make a move to retort against him. “The first boy blunder had some manners. It’s clear you’re not interested in following in his footsteps.” Joker backed away, looking up at a clock on the wall and letting out a sound of disappointment.

           Jason had been so certain Bruce would come crashing in at that moment, just like the moments before, but it never came. Each moment passed by and there was still no sign of the cape crusader. His hopes turned into hopelessness and he started to feel his mind spiral into bitter thoughts about how he wasn’t coming; no one was coming for him and it scared the living hell out of him.

           “Okay kiddo, it’s time to go. I’ve got stuff to do; places to be and what not.” Joker’s voice brought him back out of his trance. He was putting on his coat, heading towards the exit. “We had a good time right?” He paused when Jason was unable to reply, finding amusement in it.

           “Well, maybe a smidge more fun for me than you. But you don’t have to pout about it; and don’t worry I’ll let your little girlfriend know you love her and all that junk.” He said as the door to the outside was now open. “Be a good boy for me now and please tell the big man I said hello,” He finished, laughing manically as he closed the door, cutting off Jason from the outside again.

           Jason’s heart nearly beat out of his chest as he was now left alone. A million different thoughts raced through his head but he couldn’t stop to pin point them all besides one. He had to get out of there. He had to escape. He had to call Batman or Dick or even Alfred. Groaning with newfound determination, knowing that no matter how much he wished and still hoped Bruce would come for him, he knew he couldn’t just sit around any longer.

           He forced his body to flip over, allowing him to be able to force himself to stand even if just for a moment. He staggered from side to side, until he ultimately tumbled back to the ground. He tried to stand again but a pain shot through his leg and found himself now instead crawling to the exit. Inch by inch, he pulled himself further the door seeming to get no closer until after what felt like forever he finally reached it.

           Bruce is coming. Bruce is coming. He repeated to himself.

           Reaching up to the door handle he grasped it tightly, turning it to side to side, letting out a louder grunt as it wouldn’t budge. He tried until his muscles screamed at him to stop stretching his arms upwards. He wouldn’t give up. Bruce is coming, he kept trying to convince himself as he plopped down and sat against the door. Holding onto his side he tried to labor his breathing and think of a way out.

           Once his breathing was calmed as much as it could be, he let out a sigh, letting his head hit the back of the door gently to rest it. Closing his eyes for a moment, het let himself try and settle his still beating heart. He could hear it. Thumping and thumping. Thumping and- beeping? Opening his eyes he let his gaze shift with wide eyes towards where the sound had been coming from. His stomach dropped and bile could be felt building at the bottom of his throat.

           Taunting him off to the side of the room was a timer, resting atop a couple of crates; it counted down,

           0:09

           0:08    

           0:07

           It wasn’t real, the thought quickly crept through Jason’s head.

           0:05

           0:04

           But he knew it was real. It was a clear as day what was about to happen. This wasn’t just some elaborate joke being played on him. He knew it was real as Bruce not coming for him.

           0:03

           0:02    

           0:01

           0:00

[faulty-writes]

Dirty Date Night Intentions.

Warning: 18+ Has sex. You get the drill. (I am bad at writing smut RIP. You have been warned.)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: MiriTama (Mirio Togata and Tamaki Amajiki)

“I got popcorn!” Mirio’s cheery voice sounded from the kitchen, making Tamaki jump in surprise from the couch. “Shh!” He scolded the energic blond even though he was used to the man’s behavior by now. They were still in the dorms and all their classmates were probably asleep or at least should be. Which left the two of them to take freedom of the common area, Mirio insisted it would be a fun date night but so far it wasn’t proving to be true. 

“Oh, oops sorry!” Mirio said with that same big goofy smile on his face, the one he always wore. Sometimes Tamaki got tired of it but damned if he didn’t love it at the same time. Mirio was his best friend after all and as of a few months ago,  they became boyfriends. It was strange, Tamaki wasn’t expecting Mirio to confess such feelings for him but one way or another it happened and right after, Mirio insisted they go on a date. Just to see how they’d work out. 

It was hard at first, especially with how others reacted. Tamaki hated when all eyes were on them when Mirio insisted they hold hands in public or even dare press a loving kiss to his cheek which only made Tamaki flush furiously. It was worse inside the halls of U.A. High especially because of all the gossip that started. Talk of the two heroes dating one another and it didn’t exactly help that they were both males too. Thankfully U.A. had a Policy that protected their students from getting harrassed over such matters. So that was one less thing to worry about. 

Still, Tamaki remembers how confidently Mirio would strut down the school hallways, dragging Tamaki along by the hand. He always escorted Tamaki wherever he needed to go, which was nice. But it was still a little embarrassing how the blond would kiss him before entering their homeroom. Now that a couple months had passed and everyone got used to their relationship, it was old news. Nejire had been supportive of the two boys as well and often went on about how happy she was for them. 

Least someone was on their side, not that it mattered much on days like this. When it was just the two of them, the world absent from their minds. “Ah!” Mirio exclaimed as he plopped down recklessly next to Tamaki, leaving a few stray pieces of popcorn on the floor from the sudden movement. “Mirio!” Tamaki hissed as he scooted away. “Hey! Where are you going? Come here, it’s cuddle time sunshine!” Mirio insisted as he reached over and wrapped his strong arm around Tamaki. 

When it came to a contest of strength, Tamaki knew Mirio would always win and that’s why he cried out when he was pulled back into the other's chest. “You need to be careful! You ...you spilled the popcorn ...” Tamaki pointed out, his finger directed towards the floor where sure enough the pieces of popcorn still remained. Mirio seemed clueless as he tilted his head, those baby blues looking at the mess he involuntarily created. “Is that what you’re worried about baby? I’ll clean it up later, come on. Let’s focus on cuddling, it is date night right?” He said as he turned to Tamaki with his beautiful smile. 

“Mm ...” Damn that smile, it was too good! Tamaki sighed in defeat and did as Mirio wished. Leaning against the bigger male, he nuzzled into him and tried to find a comfortable position. Bringing his legs up, he laid his head against Mirio’s shoulder and reached out to take a handful of popcorn. Happily chewing it while Mirio reached over to ruffle his boyfriend’s dark messy hair. “You look so cute when you’re leaning against me, Tamaki.” He took great pride in knowing how badly he could make Tamaki flush, it was like he had some kind of mysterious power over him. But he tried not to abuse it. 

In actuality, he just knew how to rile Tamaki up. Knew how to make him melt and submit. Which was useful at times, especially when Tamaki was being stubborn. “How about we put on that movie I promised huh?” He grinned and winked at Tamaki before grabbing the nearby remote. He was thankful that at least one of their classmates had gotten a streaming service that could be easily accessed through an app on the television and even more grateful when they agreed to share it with the rest of the third years. 

The blond hummed softly as he navigated through the movie selection, in all truth he already knew what he was looking for. Let’s just say he had a small chat with Mineta, the topics of which revolved around sex scenes in certain movies and the first year didn’t disappoint when he confidently gave Mirio a whole list. But he did mention one particular movie that had the most graphic sex scenes in it and that’s, unfortunately, the one Mirio was going for.

Now he wasn’t a pervert or at least he tried not to be, but they had only had sex a few times since they started dating and it was always so hard to get Tamaki in the mood. Mirio didn’t blame him of course, seeing as he knew Tamaki’s shy demeanor. But maybe a little push wouldn’t hurt, of course, he’d never do anything his boyfriend didn’t want. But damned if he couldn’t try to persuade him into it. 

“Hey sunshine, let’s watch this one.” Mirio insisted, turning to look at Tamaki who only looked confused at the choice of movie. “Uh ...are you sure you want to ...watch that one?” Tamaki questioned, it seemed a little odd. Usually, Mirio picked pleasant and well family-friendly movies. The rating in the top corner didn’t go unnoticed, that much was for sure. It actually made him worry a bit, was something wrong with his boyfriend? 

Mirio frowned at Tamaki’s question. “What’s the matter? I just thought it’d be nice to watch something a little different. No harm done, right!?” He said before leaning close to press a loving kiss to Tamaki’s forehead. “Let’s just try watching it, we can always change it if you don’t like it! Promise!” He watched Tamaki’s lips form a frown before he finally indulged Mirio’s request. “If you say so ...” That big smile came back to the blond’s face, this was going to be good. 

Pushing the play button, Mirio tossed the remote onto the arm of the couch and pulled Tamaki closer, the dark-haired man gave a squeak but made no attempt to push Mirio away which he took as a sign that Tamaki was comfortable. He hummed as he watched the opening credits while stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, licking his lips of the remaining buttery residue. 

The bowl of popcorn was half gone by the time Mirio was growing bored of the movie, he did pick the right movie didn’t he? It had been a good 30 minutes in, so where were the sex scenes? He almost wanted to call it quits and bring Tamaki to his room. Maybe he could rile him up another way. He turned his glance at Tamaki who was still comfortably nestled against his shoulder, eyes glued to the television and the faintest smile on his face. Why didn’t he just watch Tamaki? He had to admit, his boyfriend was beautiful. Fair skin, dark messy hair and those adorable pointy ears.

It almost made him want to lean in and nibble on them, Tamaki had sensitive ears after all and it made it all the more fun to hear him moan out when Mirio’s mouth got to work on them. Yes, his mouth was good for something other than talking. He barely noticed the smile on his face as he stared at his boyfriend, that was until Tamaki felt that burning gaze begin to make a hole through him. He wanted to turn and tell Mirio to stop staring at him, though he knew that wouldn’t do anything because than Mirio would just shower him down with compliments revolving around the fact that Tamaki was simply too beautiful not to watch. 

There was that fact and the contributing contender was that soft feminine moan coming from the television. “Hm!?” Tamaki turned his attention back to the movie and felt his jaw drop when he saw the two characters begin to strip off their clothes, the male protagonist sinking his teeth into the female’s neck as he guided her towards the bed. Tamaki's face went red and he held his hands up as if shielding himself from the sex happening on screen. “M-Mirio! Why’d you pick this!?” He exclaimed before giving a soft hiss, he needed to be quiet before he woke everyone up. 

“Huh?” Mirio looked lost a moment before turning his head towards the television. Sure enough, on-screen was a sex scene. One of many Mirio hoped, he took a minute to appreciate it. Watching as the male grasped those breasts and gave them a squeeze. “Mm, that looks like fun doesn’t it Tamaki?” Mirio’s tone was nothing less than happy as he reached over to grab Tamaki’s arm which struggled to stay up. “N-No!” The raven-haired man cried out which only made Mirio laugh. 

“Aw come on sunshine, it’s okay.” He tried to insist, though part of him was truly amused by how his timid boyfriend reacted to a simple sex scene. It was adorable, especially those flushed cheeks. Mirio could feel himself twitch in his pants, damn sometimes Tamaki didn’t even have to do much to get Mirio going. Of course, it was safe to say the blond was more open and willing to jump into things while Tamaki ...not so much. Not that that was a problem, as his best friend and boyfriend. Mirio would always be there to give him the support he needed. 

But not right now, right now he only had one thing on his mind. Tamaki continued to cry out in protest as Mirio began pulling him, situating the raven-haired boy onto his lap. Tamaki could feel his boyfriend’s strong chest against his back and the fact that he was practically forced to watch what was playing across the television screen didn’t help the situation. Tamaki wasn’t having a good time and even brought his legs up to kick them in protest. But Mirio kept a stronghold on his hips, which prevented the shy boy from actually getting up. “M-Mirio what are you doing!?” He hissed once more, wanting an explanation already. It’s not that he didn’t welcome this, being seated in his boyfriend’s lap. Hell, it was probably something most people dreamed of, being so close to a Pro Hero especially one like Lemillion. 

But they didn’t know his dark side. “Ah!” Tamaki felt himself tremble when those strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back again. Mirio could only smile as he finally restricted his boyfriend’s movements and pressed his lips against Tamaki’s exposed neck which caused resulted in the raven gasping “M-Mirio?” The innocent way Tamaki said his name, God he loved it. Mirio’s fingers slipped up his boyfriend’s shirt, brushing the sensitive skin of his stomach area. The commotion from the television continued to sound, bed squeaking and cries of pleasure. 

He kissed up Tamaki’s ear, swiping along the edge of it before whispering “Wouldn’t it be fun to do it while watching this Tamaki?” He could feel his boyfriend tremble in his arms and once more begin to kick his legs as a method of escape which made Mirio frown. Sometimes, just sometimes he wished Tamaki was easier to relax. “N-No way! We’re in the living room Mirio! I can’t ....I can’t ...” He tried pleading with the blond as he struggled against his hold. “Well wait a minute, sunshine, I-” His words were cut off by the sound of Tamaki somehow freeing himself and turning to look at Mirio with an expression that was settled somewhere between angry and embarrassed. 

“You always do things ...l-like this!” Tamaki said, standing there with his shoulders trembling. “I’m going back to bed ...” Ducking his head, he turned away from the other. Mirio panicked and sprang up from the couch, grabbing Tamaki’s arm in an attempt to yank him back. “I’m sorry Tamaki!” He tried pleading, maybe he could convince his boyfriend to at least get back to the couch. Strong arms once more found their way to Tamaki’s waist and he pulled the smaller male to him. Nuzzling his face into the raven’s shoulder and inhaled his aroma. Tamaki always smelled so good for some reason. 

“Please don’t leave! Come on, I’ll make it worth your while!” He insisted as he leaned up to kiss Tamaki on the cheek and heard that ever so familiar sigh come. In other words, it was safe to assume he had won this little confrontation. Tamaki turned to look at Mirio, even now he had trouble looking at his boyfriend. He was tall, handsome, had beautiful hair and eyes. What wasn’t there to love about Mirio? Apart from how he did things like this, he was pretty sure Mirio had a strange kink of some kind but he didn’t want to look too much into it. 

“Is ...that a promise?” He questioned with narrowed eyes, but Mirio only smiled at him. “Of course sunshine! I wouldn’t lie to you, ever!” Tamaki glanced down a moment before taking a deep breath. “Alright.” He tilted his head back up, giving Mirio a smile in return before he reached up to wrap his arms around that strong neck. Pressing a kiss to those lips that never seemed to stop moving. “I’ll sit ...on the couch,” Tamaki said, despite the fact he immediately had second thoughts. 

“Right this way my love!” Mirio cheerfully spoke as he escorted Tamaki like always. “Get comfortable.” He insisted as he watched the other hesitantly take their seat. Tamaki was so cute, like a frightened kitten. But Mirio knew how to make him purr. “Now, I promise I won’t restrain you. Instead ...” The blond slowly got onto his knees, positioned in front of Tamaki who looked at him with a scared expression, almost like he wasn’t prepared for what Mirio would do. 

“I’ll do this ...” That grin alone made Tamaki shiver as he watched his boyfriend lean forward and with that long thick tongue, swipe along his zipper. “Ah ...” Tamaki hissed softly at the feeling, which left the fabric moist. His tongue continued to brush against the zipper before he wrapped his lips around the outline of Tamaki’s hardening cock. Mirio couldn’t help but smile as he felt his boyfriend grow harder and harder due to his advances. He pulled away and wiped his mouth, smiling at Tamaki who was currently covering his face. More than likely embarrassed by the lewd noises he had been making, but there was no shame in it. When you felt so good, you just had to let it out, right?

“Come on sunshine, spread your legs a little. It’s okay.” Mirio insisted and his request was only greeted with a groan of protest. He pouted and reached up to part Tamaki’s thighs apart himself. “There you go! Relax Tamaki, I’ll make sure to be gentle ...” He promised though Mirio was always gentle with his anxiety-ridden boy. Unless Tamaki clearly said he wanted it rough, but most of the time Mirio just made sweet love as opposed to fucking Tamaki’s brains out. Truth be told, Mirio was more about making love than anything. Being able to share something so intimate and be so close to another like that, it always felt amazing. 

He watched Tamaki lower his hands, looking down as Mirio once more got to work. Tongue tracing the bulge that now strained against his boyfriend's pants, Tamaki almost hated how responsive he was to Mirio. “Ah! Mirio ...d-don’t do that!” He pleaded, but he only got a chuckle from Mirio. “Don’t do what sunshine, this?” He questioned before opening his mouth and gently sinking his teeth into the bulge, nibbling on it for a moment as Tamaki continued with those cries of protest. But Mirio knew he was enjoying it, especially since those nasty little hips were moving. 

“I think it’s finally time I give you some relief, would you like that?” Mirio asked, reaching up to rub Tamaki through his pants. “Ah ...M-Mirio!” The raven cried out, wiggling madly on the couch. Hips thrusting into Mirio’s hand as he only continued to please. It was madness. “Mm ...please Mirio!” He finally gave in and reached over to thread his hand through Mirio’s hair, gripping it tightly. His face twisted, cheeks already flushed and a moan escaped him as he watched Mirio grasp his zipper between his teeth and pull it down. 

A soft hiss escaped Tamaki’s mouth as Mirio pulled his throbbing cock out, damn his boyfriend’s fingers felt cool against his hot flesh and he shivered when Mirio traced over the large vein. “Mm ...” Biting his lip, Tamaki curiously looked down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. He really hoped no one would come out and see this. Mirio on his knees before the fellow third-year student, stroking him and causing those delightful noises to escape. 

“You like this sunshine? Does it feel good?” Mirio’s voice came in a soft purr as he continued to stroke Tamaki, watching as that small dribble of precum came from the tip. Mirio grinned and leaned forward, kitten licking the small mess clean. Tamaki’s taste made him moan in delight. He could feel that hand tighten in his hair which made him lookup. “You taste so good, Tamaki.” Mirio said as he licked his lips, “ I think I want more.” With that, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive tip, collecting any remaining precum. 

Of course, it was hard not to chuckle when he heard those soft whimpers coming from Tamaki, which only grew louder as Mirio parted his lips and slowly took that hot flesh in his mouth. Tamaki always tasted like salt and it was something that Mirio was growing to love, well that and the feeling of that cock against his tongue. Giving a soft moan, he began to work his lips up and down Tamaki’s shaft. Working his tongue in circular motions, he could hear those muffled cries coming from his boyfriend who currently had his hand clasped over his mouth. 

Normally Mirio could insist that Tamaki could be as loud as he wanted but given the current circumstance. He couldn’t really blame his boyfriend for wanting to stay as quiet as possible. Despite Mirio’s mouth feeling so hot and moist against Tamaki’s cock which made the raven wiggle like mad. His body jerked involuntarily and though he still had one hand threaded in Mirio’s hair. It seems the blonde had no trouble keeping up with the sudden jerks and wiggles. 

Regardless, Tamaki loved the sight of his boyfriend sucking him off. Those lips stretched perfectly over his cock, the noises that came and sent vibrations through him and the way Mirio’s strong hand wrapped around him. Pumping him in time with his mouth, it was almost too much. “M-Mirio ...I ...can’t ...” Tamaki got a little impatient sometimes, but Mirio didn’t mind. In fact, it made him smile to know he was doing such a good job. He pushed Tamaki out of his mouth and tilted his head up. 

“Can’t what sunshine?” He teased as he reached up to wipe his mouth of any saliva and gave a smile when he felt those fingers tighten in his hair. He knew what Tamaki wanted, he just enjoyed hearing those precious words. “Please ...Mirio.” Those words were soft and pitiful and they only made Mirio chuckle. “Please what? Please make you cum, hm?” He chuckled as Tamaki shyly nodded, he was so cute sometimes. How could Mirio deny that face?

“Well alright! But you asked for it.” He warned as he reached up to push two fingers past Tamaki’s lips. “Suck them sunshine, I need them nice and wet if they’re going to be inside you.” It was unbelievable how such dirty things could come from a man with a smile so sweet. He could feel Tamaki hesitate a moment before wrapping those lips around his fingers. Bobbing his head slowly and using his tongue to give soft kitten licks. 

Mirio couldn’t help but chuckle, “That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. Use your tongue more.” He instructed, despite wanting to do such filthy things, Mirio always made sure to properly prepare his boyfriend. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the person he loved. Tamaki’s expression was nothing short of adorable as he continued to suck his boyfriend’s fingers, cheeks flushed and soft beads of sweat dripped down his face. 

“Hm, hmm.” Mirio hummed softly and wiggled his fingers around Tamaki’s talented little tongue before pulling them out. In the dim lighting of the room, he could his fingers glistening. Oddly enough it made him smile, in a way he found it kind of sexy to be using Tamaki's own spit to stretch his hole. “Uh, Mirio ...how are you going to ...” The shy man’s voice came to a halt and Mirio could guess what he was trying to say. 

“Stand up and pull those sweatpants off baby,” Mirio instructed, even though there was a chance at any moment one of their classmates could wake up. He was willing to take that chance, it was actually kind of exciting. Though Tamaki didn’t seem to be on the same level of thinking as he groaned and covered his face again. “I c-can’t! That's too embarrassing and w-what if someone comes and-” Mirio quickly silenced those lips by leaning over and capturing them with his own. 

Pulling away with a soft pop, Mirio smiled at his boyfriend. “Don’t worry about that, just live a little.” He insisted, sometimes Tamaki just needed a little push, a little encouragement. His hands then reached for the waistband of those sweatpants. “Lift your hips up.” The blond instructed, even though Tamaki just gave another groan. “Come on ...” Mirio pushed further as he began to pull down the waistband himself. “Mm! Okay, okay ...” Tamaki finally seemed to give in and aided Mirio by lifting his hips up so the sweatpants easily slid down his legs. 

Mirio couldn’t help but grin and tossed the clothing piece aside without a care. “There, that wasn’t so hard right? I love you sunshine!” Once more, he lowered himself to the floor. Reaching out to grab Tamaki’s hips so he could pull him forward. “Ah! Mirio ...don’t! I’m gonna f-fall ...” He could only shake his head at his boyfriend’s continued concerns. “I would never let you fall, Tamaki, just trust me. Lift your ass more, show me how beautiful you are.” He insisted, buttering Tamaki up with compliments always seemed to work. 

Despite the fact that Tamaki had dug his nails into the couch and felt frozen with nerves. He tried to do as Mirio instructed, scooting his bottom half down just a touch more. But he felt flush when Mirio’s hands grasped onto his cheeks and spread them, exposing his clenching hole. The cold air didn’t seem to help with that, but chances are Mirio was going to warm him up. “Ah!” Tamaki cried out when he felt those fingers brush against his entrance, causing it to twitch in response. 

Mirio’s fingers felt warm and wet and more than likely all too eager to please. “Take a deep breath okay?” Mirio instructed as he applied pressure to that all too eager looking hole. “M-Mirio ...ah ...” The raven moaned as he felt one finger probe his entrance, pushing past his tight ring of muscle. Mirio had such thick fingers. “That’s it, you’re such a good boy for me, baby.” He grinned as he wrapped his free hand around his boyfriend’s neglected cock, still moist from his little blow job. 

Another moan of pleasure came from Tamaki as he felt that finger wiggle inside him. Mirio knew all the little secrets about his boyfriend’s body, including which way to twist his finger inside to get that golden reaction. “I love the noises you make sunshine, they make me pretty excited!” He could feel his own cock twitching in his pants, growing harder at the erotic sounds coming from his boyfriend. But it wouldn’t be very nice if he pleased himself, of course not! He was going to please Tamaki, make sure he feels a Lemillon times satisfied. 

His hand worked gently, stroking Tamaki as he got used to his finger. “You like this baby? I think I can fit another finger inside you, I love fucking you like this.” Mirio’s voice practically purred as he paused and slowly pushed another finger in. Tamaki’s tight hole seemed to resist a moment, which made it a little hard. But with a little more pressure, Mirio moaned as he watched that eager hole wrap around his digits “Feels good huh?” He questioned as he looked up at Tamaki who looked pretty satisfied. 

“Y-Yes! Mirio, i-it feels good.” He couldn’t help but smile, he loved the way Tamaki responded. His breathless, desperate voice. The way he wiggled his body in response to Mirio’s touch, it was beautiful. But at the same time, it made Mirio want to pull out his own monster and make Tamaki scream his name. But that would be a reward best saved for later, particularly in the dorm room where Tamaki could scream into a pillow. “Hm?” Mirio snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his boyfriend’s delicate fingers brush the messy tips of his hair.

“Oh sorry! Did you want something sunshine?” He questioned, resuming the movement of his fingers. Spreading them in an attempt to loosen Tamaki.”Ah y-yes! Please ...I ...I want more!” Mirio would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little surprised by his boyfriend’s request. Usually, Tamaki was shy when it came to requests, but Mirio wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny him. Oh no. A wicked smile came to his face and he leaned closer to that beautiful stiff cock. His hot breath tickling it as he said, “More? Heh okay, you asked for it! I’m going to make you quiver.” That was a promise and Mirio hadn’t broken one yet. 

His lips parted once more and slowly, he took Tamaki into his mouth. His lips sealed tight around the sensitive tip, using his tongue to swirl around the flesh as a means to tease his boyfriend. “Mm ...ah, your t-tongue. It’s so h-hot and wet around me! Uh, it feels amazing!” Tamaki’s praises started coming as Mirio worked his mouth harder. From top to bottom, Mirio eagerly moaned around Tamaki. The vibrations of which caused his boyfriend to squirm as he laid there on the couch, legs spread and moaning desperately for Mirio. 

His hole was practically dripping as those fingers continued to plunge deep inside him, brushing against his most sensitive spot. His teeth sank into his bottom lip to prevent too much noise, despite the fact that at this point he could care less if someone walked out in saw them. Between Mirio’s mouth and those fingers, he was losing his mind. His nails were dug into the soft surface of the couch cushion and he wiggled violently, an action that caused him to clench down on Mirio’s fingers. 

The blond seemed to notice this and pulled up, separating his mouth from Tamaki’s cock with another pop. “Are you getting close sunshine? You’re so tight around my fingers. You're going to cum, aren’t you?” Mirio chuckled and swallowed his boyfriend once more, “Damn!” Tamaki cried out and bucked his hips. Mirio gagged softly as the tip hit the back of his throat, he swallowed around the hot flesh in an attempt to calm his gag reflex. It was kind of funny, how Tamaki could get sometimes. To the point of begging and even at rare times take control. Much like he was trying to do now. 

“Mm ...” He reached out, placing his hand on Tamaki’s stomach in an effort to stop his squirming. Applying just enough pressure to get his message through, but it didn’t seem like Tamaki was reacting well to it. His hips still tried to move which didn’t make Mirio’s job any easier. The blond groaned and rotated his fingers, pulling them back and violently shoving them back inside. The soft plush sound of his knuckles hitting Tamaki’s skin echoed softly between their own noises of pleasure. 

He could tell Tamaki was close, so why not step up his game? He continued to bob his head, tongue swirling around that shaft and an impressive amount of spit was dripping down, making its way towards Tamaki’s plush balls. “Ah! Mirio! Yes, I’m c-close, don’t ...stop, please! It feels so good, y-your mouth.” He couldn’t believe such words were coming from his lips but even so it seemed like Mirio was more than happy to oblige and continued his assault, fingers curling inside Tamaki’s tight hole. 

“Ah!” Tamaki clenched his jaw and leaned his head back. Stuttered breathes sounded as he curled his fingers tighter in those blond locks. Hips desperately thrusting as he felt his stomach tighten. “I-It’s coming! M-Mirio! I f-feel it!” He warned before a whine escaped as Mirio pulled his mouth away from Tamaki’s ready to blow member. “It’s alright, baby go ahead. You can cum in my mouth, better not to leave any evidence right?” He chuckled before engulfing Tamaki once more, an action that made the raven shiver. 

Getting back to work, Mirio could feel how Tamaki’s member twitched against his tongue. His fingers came to a slow stop as he felt the first few drops of semen against his tongue. “Mirio!” Tamaki hissed before clasping his hand over his mouth, his hips hovering just above the cushion of the couch as he felt his release. Filling Mirio’s mouth, almost a little too eagerly. But he knew his boyfriend loved a challenge.”Uh ...ah ...” Tamaki trembled in after pleasure and whimpered softly as he felt those fingers being pulled from his needy hole. 

 “Mm ...” Mirio smiled as he wiped the excess drippings from his lips and swallowed his boyfriend’s seed. Tamaki always tasted good. “Well, I think I can say that was a successful date night.” He spoke with a smile before turning to look over his shoulder. The movie credits were now displayed, rolling up the screen without care. He chuckled and turned back to Tamaki, hovering over the man that now covered his face in shame as he slowly came off from his high. “Tamaki?” Reaching over, he gently pulled those hands away and was greeted with a shy but satisfied face. 

“D-Did we really just ...” Tamaki began but Mirio only nodded in response. “We sure did! And you were so good Tamaki!” Mirio offered a kind smile and leaned forward to capture his boyfriend’s lips. “I love you sunshine! You’re the best ...but maybe we should take this to our dorm room now.” Tamaki frowned and reached for the nearest pillow. “You say that now!?” He cried as he hit Mirio with the soft object. Some date night indeed. 

[driversmutbucket]

Again.

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Warnings: NSFW smutty smut

Why did this take me months to write? I have no idea. So many words. So much smut.

“We need, ugh, to stop, hngghh, doing this” Flip panted.

“Mmmmm, it’s, oh god, unprofessional” you managed.

You were bent over the sink, _again, _as Flip thrust into you.

Last time, and the time before... you had both sworn to each other it was the last time.

——

You had started work at the PD a mere 3 months ago, doing office work and receptionist duties.

The moment you had laid eyes on the plaid clad, leather-holster-wearing Dectective Zimmerman you had been smitten.

It seemed the feeling was mutual, after a week of aggressive flirting, and one too many drinks at the bar you had fucked in the bathroom.

It seemed once wasn’t enough, in the months since you had been having bathroom rendezvous in lunch breaks and after hours. Every single time swearing it was the last time. Unprofessional, you agreed.

You had to admit, you had taken to wearing extra tight skirts and heels more regularly because you knew Flip couldn’t resist it when you “strutted” (his words) around the department.

You couldn’t help it, no one had ever made you orgasm like Zimmerman. He was like a drug you couldn’t quit.

——

The PD Christmas party was tonight.

You had your dress ready, a little black number that reminded you of one of your favorite shows, I Dream of Jeanie. It was form fitting with ballooning chiffon sleeves.

It was lightly snowing outside as you pulled on a pair of thick woolen tights. You checked the mirror one final time before pulling on a thick coat and knee high boots.

-

Turning into the parking lot of the bar you spotted Flip’s truck straight away. You parked next to it, already imagining his scent, the smell of cologne and cigarettes.

You could hear the music and loud chatter of your colleagues inside as you climbed out into the chill air. You were ready to welcome the warming sensation that a glass of red wine would provide.

Pushing through the door of the bar, you scanned the rowdy room for familiar faces. You heard the shriek of the other office ladies as they saw you and began waving you over, their cheeks already rosy from multiple beverages.

You hadn't missed the way Flip looked towards the door when you walked in, as if he was waiting for somebody. You also hadn't missed the way his eyes ran up and down your body. You chewed your lip and gave him a little smile before waving and walking over to your female colleagues.

-

Two generously poured wines later you were singing and dancing on the dance floor to Rod Stewart with what seemed like half the department. You could feel eyes on you and you looked over to see Flip sipping a beer and watching you. You couldn't help but wink at him when you locked eyes.

“Flip has been watching you all evening” Sadie, another office worker giggled.

You raised your eyebrows, “has he now!”

”I’d say he has a big ol’ crush” Barb, chimed in, grinning.

You couldn’t help but blush and giggle, as the group of women around you gushed and gossiped about Dectective Zimmerman.

“I’m gonna go over there” you announced, causing another wave of giggles.

Flip was now leaning against the bar, his back to you, talking to another detective as he sipped a beer and smoked a cigarette.

You went and stood next to him, and asked the bartender for a red wine. At the sound of your voice he whipped his head around to you.

“Hey there” you smiled coyly, “the ladies reckon you have a crush on me” you added casually, “say you’ve been watching me all evening.”

His face remained almost blank, except you could see a smile pulling the corner of his mouth.

“That so?” He said smoothly.

“Mmmhmmm” you grinned at him, while sipping your wine.

He put another cigarette in his mouth, offering you one, which you accepted.

“They’re right, i have” he murmured in your ear as you leaned in to light your cigarette from his lighter.

Standing back up you took a deep drag, with a smirk.

You placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned in so your mouth was right beside his ear.

“I’m not fucking you in the bathroom again Zimmerman” you felt him sag slightly, “so you better take me home instead.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked back to the ladies who had looks of frothing anticipation on there faces. You made a point not to look back at him.

Just after midnight people started stumbling home, everyone on duty the next day was long gone and there remained about 10 or so sitting at the bar. Flip and yourself among them. You sat in the corner, a wall to your right and Flip to your left.

No one could see but his hand had been rested on your thigh for the last 15 minutes as you chatted together with your colleagues, chain smoked and drank.

The barman made last call and everyone began to trickle out.

Flip turned to you, “I think I better drive you home, you’ve had too much to drink” he said slightly louder than necessary.

“Aye aye detective!” you saluted, jokingly.

“Catch you Ron, Patrice” Flip waved to his partner and his partners girlfriend, “gonna drop this one home” he pointed at you, miming a drinking action with his hand and grinning.

You swatted at him, “nice to meet you, Patrice! See you at work Ron.”

-

Climbing into Flips truck your stomach was in knots. A mix of nerves, excitement and arousal.

“You better not be actually taking me home” you said, as Flip clicked his seatbelt.

“Sweetheart, I damn near choked on my drink when you swanned in in that little number” he said non-chalantly as he reversed out of the carpark.

-

Pulling up to Flip’s house, he quickly jumped out and walked around, opening the truck door for you and helped you out. It felt nice to hold his hand, large and warm.

He unlocked his door, and you followed him into a homely but somewhat sparsely furnished kitchen and living area.

His large hands found your waist, you turned to face him.

“This is nice” you murmured, “not rushing.”

“I’m practicing a lot of self control right now” he muttered, looking at your lips.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter and you ran your hands up his chest, over the soft cotton of his button up shirt. He ducked his head down and started planting kisses on your neck.

You signed happily; your fingers finding their way into his shag of hair.

His hands traveled from your waist and down to cup your arse, just as your lips met.

As you gently sucked his bottom lip he hoisted you up, so he was carrying you. You yelped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel his erection straining his jeans.

“I’m not fucking you in my damn kitchen” he said gruffly as he began walking towards what you assumed would be his bedroom.

“What a gentleman!” You smirked.

“Don’t get mouthy with me” he warned, fighting a smile.

“Or what Dectective, will you cuff me? I can’t promise I won’t like it” you grinned wickedly.

“Jesus christ” he hissed as he carried you through his bedroom door.

You unclasped your legs, finding the floor.

“Flip, let’s take our time ok?” You murmured as you began unbuttoning his shirt from the top. Savoring the lack of time pressure. Pulling it off you let your hands roam over the large expanse of his chest. His breathing was becoming a bit more erratic.

You turned, back to him. “Unzip me?”

He fumbled slightly with the zipper before pulling it all the way down and pushing your dress of your shoulders.

It dropped away, sitting on your hips. You yanked it over your butt and let it fall to the ground. You were left standing in your tights and a baby pink satin bra.

Flip pushed your hair aside and kissed the nape of your neck, his hands skimming your hips. He unclasped the bra and you shrugged it off. His hands quickly cupping your naked breasts “I never have time to truly enjoy these” he said lowly. It was true. You never had time for even undressing.

You closed the gap between your bodies, you could feel his hardness, uttering a small moan as Flip’s hands kneaded your breasts.

Your pussy was throbbing, you weren’t used to any foreplay with him, this was one part bliss, one part agony.

You turned back to face Flip, his eyes lavished your chest. It occurred to you he had never actually seen your bare breasts.

As you reached for his belt buckle his hands were back on your breasts, then his mouth was on a nipple, “oh holy fuck” you breathed.

You fumbled around with his belt and jean button while his mouth worked.

You pushed his jeans and briefs down, releasing his raging hard on, trying to focus.

“Babe, Jesus....” you groaned as he sucked your nipple, he got on his knees, his hands on your clothed arse cheeks.

You couldn’t help but grip his hair in pleasure.

He tugged down your tights and panties so you stood their stark naked.

“Sit on the edge of the bed.”

No sooner did your butt touch the bed than Flip grabbed under your thighs and pushed them up causing your to lay down.

“What are yo- oh my god!”

His mouth was inbetween your legs, tongue tasting like a man starved.

“Flip, oh my god!”

Your back arched off the bed, as your body became increasingly overwhelmed by the sensations his tongue was causing.

As he sucked your clit you felt his hand nearing your entrance, you thrust forward a little in desperation.

He hummed on your clit, you could feel his smirk.

“Please” you pleaded, as his fingers danced around your entrance mercilessly.

You weren’t sure you had ever moaned so loud as you did when Flip finally entered not one but two fingers into your aching warmth, while his mouth continued to lavish your increasingly sensitive nub. He pumped slowly, expertly as you made the noises of a woman in the throws of pure ecstasy.

“Baby I think I-” your climax ripped through your body before you even had time to finish your sentence. Back arched and mouth opened in a silent scream, your body was ignited in the most electric feeling you had ever experienced.

You lay there slightly dumbfounded as you began to come back to reality.

“Flip...” your eyes darted to him. He was grinning like a man who had just won the lottery.

“Fuck.” Was all you could manage.

He got up off his knees, kicking off his jeans so he was finally fully naked, and lay down next to you.

Pushing yourself up, still slightly dazed, you straddled his torso with a dopey grin on your face.

“This is nice... being horizontal” you joked.

His hands caressed your thighs. “been dreaming about this...having you like this” he admitted, as his fingertips skirted over your hips.

You leant in and kissed his lips tenderly, “me too” you said quietly.

You reached and clasped his still very erect cock that was prodding you in the back, causing Flip to gasp.

“Can’t wait to ride this” you purred as you pumped him. You shuffled back and hovered as you lined up with your entrance.

Noises of pleasure filled the room you as you lowered yourself, although you had had sex many times, never in this position. They new angle was delicious.

You began to rock, then bounce experimentally, seeing what felt good.

Flips hands grasped your hips, assisting your movements. His eyes roaming your body, watching your breasts bounce “you look, ahhh, so fucking sexy” he all but swooned.

“You feel sooooo good, baby” you praised as you rolled your hips in a steady rhythm, eyes closed.

“Close” was all Flip could huff.

You let your hand travel down and began to stimulate your still tender clit.

“Ohhhhhh fuck,” you knew you wouldn’t last long, as the pressure in your abdomen began to build.

“Babe, ahhhhh,” you lost your rhythm as your walls began to spasm, Flips grip tightened as a guttural moan escaped his lips.

Your climaxes were almost simultaneous, your lips meeting in a passionate frenzy. Grinning against each other’s mouths your bodies began to settle into post orgasmic bliss.

You lay entwined for a while, enjoying the closeness.

You eventually rolled off and onto the bed, Flip rolling and pulling you into him, spooning you.

He kissed the nape of your neck tenderly.

“No more bathrooms” you murmured, sleep beginning to take hold.

“Never again” he agreed.