#EVERYONE PRAY THAT I WILL FINISH THIS SERIES .. . AT SOME POINT

[misty-caligula]

Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls. 

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together,  with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

[houseki-no-suffering]

Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!

I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3

And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha

I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.

I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.

As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.

If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.

Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.

I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.

Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.

Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.

Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.

Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.

This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.

They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...

Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.

It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.

Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.

In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.

[callmelola111]

color me purple ♡ part one

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.3k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some fluff + some angst (for now), marijuana use, pet names (doll, princess, hun), light sexual themes, swearing, mentions of blood (reader gets bloody nose), mentions of age (reader and ellie are both said to be 20 but feel free to change it in ur head lol)

a/n: feeling so summer lately i just had to write this. living vicariously through reader cause like why tf am i not having a summer camp gay awakening. this series is just 3 parts but it is sweet as pie so pls enjoy!!! i love you all dearly ♡~ lola

The blinding sun beamed down on your bare skin. Normally the sweltering heat would bother you more, but the excitement of your first day back at camp was more than enough to distract you from the outlandish temperatures. You barreled down the grassy hill, duffle bag in hand, revealing the large wooden arch that spelled out the words CAMP STILLWATER.

The grounds were bustling with counselors and caretakers preparing for the arrival of campers later that evening. Everyone was dressed in color coded garments that signaled what cabin group they belonged to. You were dressed in red, head of cabin 12. Your sheer, white ringer tee read “Staff” and was hemmed with strips of crimson. To match, a pair of red booty shorts with white stretching down the sides. They were just long enough to cover your plush cheeks until naturally riding up as you walked to reveal the crease where ass meets thigh. To top it off, knee high socks striped with the same exact red. You were fucking adorable.

Nature crunched under your sneakers as you practically skipped down the trail headlining it to your cabin. As you reached the steps a very familiar voice called out your name.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Cabin neighbors, once again. Did ya miss me doll?”

“Ellie fucking Williams, don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been praying all week that I wouldn’t get stuck with your dumbass again. But, here we are.” You rolled your eyes in a dramatic fashion putting an emphasis on your obvious sarcasm. This would be your 3rd summer bunking next door to your biggest rival Ellie Williams.

Although you and Ellie weren’t truly enemies, she did get on your nerves, and you got on hers. This fed into a mutual sarcastic bit that you guys have continued to carry out for years. You’d think by 20 years old the two of you would’ve grown out of these childish antics, but it was secretly one of your favorite parts of the summer. 

Ellie gave a half-assed chuckle, “you can never escape me.”

“Oh yes I can!” You whipped your head around, excusing yourself from the conversation and climbed up the weathered steps of your cabin. Ellie gawked as she watched you depart, your thighs giggling with each step. Her piercing green eyes always found their way to your body, but only when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

You entered the barren room and didn't even take the time to unpack before you started adorning the walls with themed decor and tying red ribbons in your hair. Cabin 12 always thrived with spirit when you were there. You took your role as camp counselor seriously and took the competitiveness even more seriously.

Camp Stillwater ran on a point system, and at the end of the summer the cabin with the most wins a trophy. The girls from your cabin were always finishing first in the tournament games, but when they didn’t, it was Ellie’s stupid blue campers who were swooping in to steal the victory. It drove you crazy. Last summer you came second to her and you were determined to never let it happen again. You began speaking to the empty room as if trying to somehow manifest these dreams into reality.

“This year cabin 12 will finish the summer with the most points.”

“Talking to yourself again?” You jumped at the sound of Ellie, not noticing that she had been lurking in the doorway. She was only there for a moment, but didn’t feel like announcing herself, too busy enjoying you running around like an excited puppy, spouting off about victory. Ellie had always admired your high spirits and go-getter attitude. A ray of light emitted from you constantly and she loved to bask in its glory. But, of course, she’d never let it be known.

“God Ellie you can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry princess but the warden wants everyone at the mess hall like now. Come on slacker!” You noticed the change of clothes on Ellie, she was now adorned in a T-shirt just like yours but with blue details rather than red. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy half-up, half-down, she always wore it like that when it started getting hot.

“Shut up, I'm not a slacker!! I’m just busy going above and beyond for my campers.” you argued, a pout forming on your lips. Ellie always knew how to press your buttons.

“You really wanna win this year huh?” She moved into your space, tilting her head with a cocky smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“And you really think I’m gonna let that happen?” she teased.

“You’re so annoying Ellie. You can do whatever you want, but I will be winning” You jutted your head forward dramatically in an attempt at intimidation. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Right… let’s just get going before we’re late and they don’t let you counsel at all” Ellie grabbed your hand and pulled, urging you to follow. Feeling her warm, calloused hand in yours, you almost didn’t want to let go. But, you did.

The mess hall was lined with strings of wooden picnic tables, all connecting to create a sense of community when it was filled with campers. Flags cascaded the walls, each a different color with a number, representing the teams. A large case expanded across the back wall, filled with trophies from years before. The corners of your mouth upturned with anticipation of the summer to come. Your thoughts were soon interrupted by an amplified voice booming from a megaphone. Holding said megaphone was the warden, Mrs. Campbell.

“Alright ladies! Tonight is the night! You all know what to do so go ahead and file out to find your campers!!” You and Ellie exited out the back of the building, heading to the camp entrance. A swarm of girls’ chatting and screams grew louder as staff united with them. One of your favorite parts about Camp Stillwater was the lack of boys. You felt safe, and you loved the idea of getting to empower all these young impressionable women.

You held up a sign signaling your cabin number and a single file line began forming in front of you. You handed each of your girls red ribbons (matching the ones in your own hair) as a personal touch, trying to foster a bond right from the start. Meanwhile, Ellie stood around for her campers dapping them up, giving off the perfect “chill counselor” vibe. You found the lack of discipline a little obnoxious but to each their own. 

That night Stillwater kicked off camp with a bonfire complete with goodies for smores. You sat, knees together on the rough log, feeling as it left imprints of the bark on your bare thighs. Ellie sat just one log over goofing off with some other staff members, shooting an occasional glance at you.

The plastic bag of graham crackers crinkled as you ripped it open to begin assembling your late night snack. The hot air had turned cool with the lack of sun, but the preceding heat lingered in the melted chocolate you attempted to pass out. You stared as the sticky mallow and sweet liquid coco coated your fingers, inviting golden crumbs to join in. Ellie observed you deciding how to handle the mess, and with just a few seconds of thought, watched you stick your sugary soaked fingers straight in your mouth. A surge of guilt hit Ellie, noticing how much your licking troubled her. She clenched her thighs together and decided sweets just weren't for her.

With your hunger satisfied, the bonfire burned bright and you droned off getting lost in the flicker of the flames. Just then, you see a familiar Ellie in your peripherals wandering to the woods. Curious, you peeled your sticky legs from where you sat and got up to follow. You trailed behind her struggling to conceal your presence due to the snapping twigs under your feet. Ellie snaked her body back to acknowledge you and your obviousness. She loved to tease.

“Stalker much?” 

“God, you wish I was stalking you, Williams.” 

“So why are you following me then? Trying to catch me breakin’ the rules?” she questioned, half joking, half not. Continuing your follow, the two of you reached a more secluded part of the forest and Ellie halted.

“If you don’t want me to catch you, then maybe you should stop breaking rules. Ever think of that?” you taunted.

“Whatever Nancy Drew.” And with that, Ellie reached into her pocket pulling out a freshly rolled joint.

“You gonna bust me?” she teased before you quickly slapped the drugs out of her hands and into the moist dirt below.

“ELLIE!!!” you scolded her like she was a camper.

“Hey what the hell dude?!” she reached down to retrieve the now dirty joint and began to light it. A panicked look washed over your face and your eyes darted around, surveying for any possible company. God forbid you let this girl get you in trouble.

“I should be saying what the hell to you! Smoking on the job? So much for setting a good example… God, Ellie!” You palmed your face not sure how to proceed. In spite of your make believe beef, Ellie was your friend and you didn’t want to tattle. On the other hand though, the goodie two shoes and competitive freak inside wanted so badly to expose Ellie's naughty behavior. With her out of the picture, you could finish this summer out with a win. But, if you were being honest with yourself, camp wouldn’t be the same without her.

“Sorry, sorry. I know” Ellie shook her head at the ground pretending to be ashamed but she couldn’t have cared less. She knew you’d never tell, so on she went with her scheming.

“You wanna hit though?” 

“Ellie!!” This time you gave a blow to her exposed bicep, really trying to lay the guilt on thick.

“Come onnnn. This is your 3rd year here, you’ve gotta loosen up at some point. Just one hit? Please, for me?” Ellie flashed you the most annoying puppy dog eyes and a devilish smirk already anticipating your answer. Growing up you found it easy to resist peer pressure, you’ve always thought of yourself as a rule follower, but when it came to Ellie she always knew what to say to push you to the edge. She was such an instigator and you fell for her act every damn time.

“Fine… one hit.” She practically shoved the weed in your hands in excitement as you reluctantly gave in. Ellie always had so much fun chipping away at that good girl exterior you worked so hard to uphold. You then took a slow drag and passed it back to her. You fixated on her wet lips as they placed themselves around the joint. She took a quick inhale before an amused look spread across her face.

“Cherry?” Already feeling the high, you gave Ellie a puzzled look, not understanding what she meant. 

“Your lipgloss hun” She gestured to the pink stain rimming the tip of the joint.

Your face flushed red, “shit sorry.” You dug your foot into the ground and gave your lips a lick, recalling the fruity flavor.

“S’all good, I liked the taste” She replied, making your face turn a shade redder, almost matching the shorts that hugged your curves. Ellie would remember this moment, the taste of your lipgloss felt like a brush with destiny. Already assimilating the flavor to memory, she imagined her lips on yours and that cherry taste lingering in an exchange of saliva. God Ellie!! Stop being a perv and shut the fuck up!!

As one of the few masculine girls at camp, she was practically drowning in women, but her fixation with you prevented anything past a casual hook up. And casual hook up she did- with at least a fourth of the staff. Understandably, things got desperate being stuck at camp for 2 months straight. It’s not like you had the privacy to rub one out while sleeping in a room full of occupied bunk beds. But, with Ellie being a known player, you personally hadn’t thought twice about getting involved, despite the occasional butterflies. Bullying each other was more fun anyways.

Finally, Ellie finally finished off the joint, letting you take a couple more hits in between hers. She stomped the roach out into the moist ground making sure to put out any remaining embers. Her long stride pointed in the direction of the light filled cabins before you stopped her. With weed now rampant in your system, you weren’t ready for the night to end. 

“Waitttt, stopppp, we can’t go nowww!” You grabbed Ellie’s wrist leading her back into the darkness, straight towards the lake.

“What? You wanna hangout with me all of the sudden?”

“I- I wanna swim…” you mumbled, almost afraid to hear it come out of your mouth. One of the most important rules at Camp Stillwater was no swimming after dark. Ellie almost gasped hearing you propose such a mischievous idea. 

“Rulebreaker! Rulebreaker!” she chanted, almost falling over with laughter. Inside though, Ellie was kicking her feet at the thought of having a late night swim with her favorite girl. 

“Come on Els, you’re the one who told me to live a little. Pleaseeee!!” You bat your long lashes like a cartoon character but there was no need to beg as Ellie was already on board. She loved corrupting you.

“I’ll race you!!” She shouted before dashing through the trees, kicking up dirt with each long stride. Of course she turned it into a competition, and you bolted right after her trying to catch up.

Neither of you even stopped to breathe as you reached the edge of the lake. Instead shirts, shorts, and shoes all flying off your bodies landing amongst the greenery, desperate to get your sweaty bodies into the cool, evening waters. As you dived in, a sense of euphoria washed over your body along with the deep blue ripples of H2O. Ellie’s head rose out of the water 2nd. She slicked her wet hair back and gave you a toothy smile that was to die for. You giggled at the sight, everything seeming a bit more silly while under the influence. 

“Having fun princess?” she questioned, cheeks full.

“Yeah I am,” you smiled back, “I don’t think the fact that I’m breaking like 5 different rules has hit me yet.”

“Enough with the rules, let's have fun!” Ellie dove back into the water circling around your smooth legs. She took ur skin between her pointer and thumb, giving you little pinches like some sort of sea creature. You kicked and squirmed in reaction causing Ellie to shoot back up from her underwater adventure.

“Fuck off!” you shoved her bare shoulder with a teasing force. She put her hands up surrendering to your irritation. Her veiny arms glistened with lake water and your eyes wandered before getting stuck on the large tattoo adorning her forearm.

“Hey, that wasn’t there last summer.” you gestured to her.

“Yeah, uh, I got it a few months ago”

“It looks good,” you paused, “can I touch?” Ellie offered out her inked limb to you. It rested in your left hand and you used your right to trace the linework. Water droplets collected with each gentle brush of your fingertips. Goosebumps followed your delicate touch and Ellie's face turned red with enjoyment. 

“S’pretty” you said, noticing a blush growing across your own face. You glanced off into the distance at the silence. The thick forest trees and bright stars urged you to take in a deep, pollution free inhale. Ellie broke the moment of zen to speak.

“Turn around.” she demanded. You obliged immediately despite her unknown intentions. You felt her hot breath on your neck and sudden skin-to-skin contact. She hooked her long fingers around your wet locks of hair, moving them across your back to one side. A chill radiated down your spine

“What are you doing Ellie?” you whispered. The closeness you shared and the now still lake, cloaked with haze, sent a hush over the both of you. 

“Guess what I’m drawing” she whispered back. You scrunched up your shoulders in response to her vibrations hitting at your pulse. The feeling of her rough fingers met your back and began tracing symbols. You attempted to focus on her movements but it proved hard to decipher the message when she felt so close. Despite knowing Ellie for a long time, the two of you had never had this much prolonged touch. It ignited a feeling that you weren’t sure how to get control of. The silence hinted at your cluelessness.

“Here I’ll do it again,” she said, drawing out "I ♡ U” once more across your back.

“Fuck, I dont know. A dick?” You turned back to face Ellie questioning her with a giggle. Her face was littered with disappointment before quickly concealing it from you with a big splash of water. The tender moment was lost. She went along with your answer, lying through her teeth. 

“Fine, you got me freak! It was a dick.” You splashed Ellie back harder, amused by her childish humor. The water slinging continued until you both became absolutely winded and ready to climb in bed. Oh fuck, bed...

“ELLIE, OH MY GOD, CURFEW!” you practically squealed before switching to breaststroke and heading towards land. Ellie snapped out of this little dream and followed after you.

You frantically threw on your clothes over your now soaked bra and panties. Wet spots began seeping through your shorts as you fiddled with your sneakers. Your wet feet swirled in the dirt below, caking them with the mud of your making. You vetoed the shoes and bolted towards the cabins completely barefoot. You were so focused on getting back that you hardly even noticed the branches and rocks assaulting your skin.

“FUCK WAIT UP!!” Ellie yelled, just feet behind you. As you looked back to acknowledge her request your ankle caught on a huge log that littered the forest's path. Your balance was thrown and your face went plummeting straight into the ground, hitting a dull rock on its way down. Ellie’s pace doubled as she jumped to your rescue. She fell to her knees by your side giving you support as you lifted yourself up. Looking down, your hands were dirty, stuck wood chips pressed into the skin. You dusted them off against each other, seemingly fine.

“Bro, oh my god, are you okay??” Ellie pestered, worried out of her mind. 

“I think, yeah. It was honestly more embarrassing than painful.” you gave a light chuckle before looking up from the ground when suddenly a gush of liquid escaped your nose. Your finger dipped into the steady flow and you took note of the deep red now covering them.

“Just great.” you rolled your eyes. Ellie had the most concerned look on her face despite your injury being a simple bloody nose.

“We’ve gotta get you to the nurse like now!”

“Ellie chill, I’d rather not have an encounter with authority while I'm high as fuck and out past curfew.” You never thought you'd be saying that sentence.

“Fine, at least take this.” Ellie handed you a crumpled up tissue she had retrieved from her athletic shorts and you shoved it up your nose halting the flow.

Returning to the main area of the campgrounds felt like a walk of shame. You were drenched, muddy, and decorated in your own blood, and Ellie looked just as bad. Eventually the two of you reached your neighboring cabins and there waiting in between the steps of 11 and 12 was Warden Campbell. Fuck.

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

[stayconnecteed]

🪐˓⠀˚⠀hold on tight⠀@⠀han jisung.

synopsys: it's the birthday of the twins in the group and the usual plan is to celebrate it at the amusement park. everything was going as always until they got to the roller coaster and noa had to sit alone. thankfully, the rules say that everyone who has no one to go with will be paired with other single ones. that was how han jisung ended up screaming and squeezing the hand of an unknown pretty girl who he quickly caught feelings for.

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀10 . 5 k words⠀⠀skz mlist.⠀⠀series mlist. 

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀pairing ★ han jisung x f!reader.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀about ★ original characters guide.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀genres ★ idol au, found family, angst, fluff & smut ; love at first sight, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, not really enemies but end up lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, polyamory. also, boy x boy subplot with original characters.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀hold on tight's warnings ★ first chapter! full into the spanishverse! this is the beginning of an amazing adventure, and there are practically no warnings. just jisung's anxiety. it will be his pov, so you know what to expect. mmm, and then fluff. lots of fluff, because he's afraid of heights and noa isn't. also, it's pretty clear ( me thinks ) but everything is in english minus the italics text - that would be spanish or korean depending on who's talking.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ hehe, hi lyra, happy ( late ) birthday!! i told you i was going to try and finish this by 14th y por mis cojones que lo intenté akshjaskd. you deserve it. hope you still like it by the end of it, and all the waiting was worth it <3

Everyone knew that the moment Jisung pulled on his hood and picked up his phone, his social battery was below zero. Unfortunately, at the moment he had no hood to hide from the rest of the world, and his anxiety told him that unlocking his phone screen for anything other than taking pictures would make him look terrible. He was wearing a custom-made black Balmain suit that felt soft against his skin, he was surrounded by strangers who were surely more famous than he would ever be, and there were hundreds of cameras pointed at him, waiting for his reaction to every outfit on the catwalk he'd been invited to.

Well, at least he wasn't alone. He had his manager, Jaehyun ーalso known as his older brotherー, sitting right behind him, Felix chatting quietly with another guest three seats to his right, and he knew that their leader was somewhere in all the chaos, also displaying an extroversion that overwhelmed Jisung. He couldn't understand, no matter how many years he had been witnessing it, how the two Australians in his Kpop group could strike up a conversation with anyone outside of them with such ease. And it wasn't even that he envied them for that ability, he just stared at them in horror and prayed that the panic wouldn't show on his face. But he had travelled all the way from Seoul to Madrid just for this, so he had to leave a good impression.

Stray Kids was starting to grow in fame, even if he wasn't really aware of the magnitude, and apart from music, his company wanted to explore other fronts. They were going to shoot a sort of short film by the end of summer, with one of the songs from their second comeback in the year as the soundtrack, and in addition to advertising, they had been considering the world of fashion for some time. The Louis Vuitton brand had snatched up his sunshine twin almost instantly, showering him in French clothes and affection, just as Versace had done with Hyunjin. It seemed that Fendi wanted to see how Bangchan's image would look in their campaigns, and it was rumoured that they wanted to make them international ambassadors.

He was grateful that Balmain had chosen him, of all the idols in the industry, to represent them in this collaborative event between Balenciaga and Zara for the winter campaign. He knew it had been an amazing opportunity for the group, and for him as an artist, but he hadn't been given the option to refuse, and perhaps it was that lack of choice that was making his perspective on the situation so negative. He was almost thirteen hours away from his family, his boyfriend, the rest of his band, in a place he knew nothing about, and every second he allowed himself to think about it, his heart pounded faster against his chest.

‘First time?’ whispered someone to his left, causing him to startle.

Jisung narrowed his eyes, focusing his gaze on the girl he had greeted nervously as he had sat next to her, in the seat assigned to his name. Her locks were slicked back and parted in the middle, all defined lines and gleaming aura, though the rest of her long hair fell down her back in a smooth cascade of chocolate-coloured strands, and her gaze was fixed on him, expectant, as if she couldn't help but let the almond shape of her eyes acquire that sharp edge. He merely nodded, smiling the closest thing to a gentle grin, his curved lips making hers reflect a more enthusiastic copy.

‘Me too!’ her shoulders twitched as he heard her poorly masked giggle, and for a moment he feared that the people around them were going to tell them off because of the easy, melodic way the laughter left her glossy lips. It was evident that she was a girl who caught attention without even being aware of it.

And then he realised that they were both speaking Korean. He frowned, because he knew that most of the people in the audience were Spanish ーand she certainly seemed to be, with her tanned skin and foreign accentー but the level was pretty good. He turned slightly towards her, knowing that they had been photographed together already, and approached her, leaving a respectful distance between them, clearing his throat.

‘Are you from here?’

‘More or less,’ she replied, leaning towards him, as if she were telling him a secret. ‘I'm from Spain, and I live here, but I'm from a town to the south, down at the bottom of the map.’

‘Oh,’ he murmured, his mind blank.

‘From your reaction, it's as if I've spoken to you in a completely different language’ she giggled.

‘The truth is, it's my first time in Spain,’ he told her, smiling more confidently, as if making small talk with that nice girl distracted him from the rest. ‘It's been from the airport to the hotel, from the hotel here and not much more.’

‘I can imagine,’ she whispered, nodding. ‘When I arrived in Madrid I felt the same way, but it's a city that has its charm. I got to know it through my uni friends, who taught me a bit about it. If you want, I can give you a tour.’

Jisung opened his eyes wide in surprise and gave a quick glance at his manager, in case he had overheard them. Maybe he'd gone too far in talking to a stranger, he had to find a polite way to turn down her offer without making her feel bad, and he had to do it fast, because staring at her with that look on his face wasn't a good idea.

‘Huh... The truth is... Well, I…’

‘Hey, it wasn't obligatory to accept the offer’ she soothed him, resting a hand on his arm gently, ready to remove it if it made him uncomfortable. ‘My best friend always tells me I have no filter, which is hypocritical because she acts the same way, but I'm sorry if it was too much. Do you want us to introduce ourselves first?’

He saw her smile as he nodded slowly, his heart still trying to escape from his chest, feeling the warm palm of her hand through the expensive black suit. But it was all right, wasn't it? She was a nice girl, who had a clear problem with trust ーof depositing it in total strangers, that isー but who apparently had no bad intentions whatsoever. And he was in a room full of people anyway. Nothing could go wrong.

‘My name is Abril’ she said, bowing his head slightly, ‘I studied at EID, the European Institute of Design, I have a little silly vlog acc on You Tube and I really like make-up and Paris.’

‘I'm Jisung’ he replied, mimicking the bow. ‘Han Jisung, and I'm an idol, and... well, huh…’

‘Nonono, you're doing it wrong,’ she corrected him, denying firmly. ‘I know you're an idol and what brand you're representing. That's usually known to anyone who's been slightly informed. Introduce yourself for real, like I have.’

‘Like you?’

‘Mm-hm,’ she made eye contact with him, and indicated the beginning of the sentence. ‘You're Jisung, you come from…’

‘Oh, yeah,’ he nodded, already more enthusiastically, understanding where she was going. ‘I'm Jisung, I live in Seoul and I'm a Kpop producer and singer. I like music a lot, anime, and watching documentaries.’

‘See, a fantastic presentation,’ she said, clapping quietly, but with a big smile on her face. ‘So it's your first time on a modelling catwalk.’

‘And yours,’ he replied, unable to bite his tongue. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Of course’ Jisung realised that they were fully turned towards each other, and that with how focused he was on the conversation he had stopped stressing over the myriad of thoughts that anxiety was sneaking into his mind.

‘If you're from here how come you speak Korean so well?’ his frown was furrowed, lips forming an adorable pout, and she found it endearing because it was the same gesture her best friend used when she didn't understand something.

‘I like to listen to Korean music,’ she replied, hoping she didn't scare him off, ‘occasionally’.

‘So you know who I am?’ he asked, his leg starting to move up and down.

‘I know what group you belong to,’ April said, her smile taking on a relaxed, casual gesture. ‘And I know you're not the boy with the foxy eyes, or the one with the freckles, which are the most recognisable.’

‘Oh,’ Jisung murmured, exhaling a relieved sigh that he didn't know he was holding back. ‘Jeongin and Felix.’

‘Yes, that was it’ he heard her crystalline laughter again, ’I saw him around earlier, he came looking very handsome.’

‘Louis Vuitton is doing an awesome job with him, and they're very nice and attentive’ he explained, cracking a smile at the thought of his best friend. ‘He's been very welcomed, and our fans love it.’

‘No wonder,’ April replied, nodding, ’Louis Vuitton has a very good reputation.’

There was a pause, and Jisung looked away from the Spanish girl, suddenly self conscious. She knew who he was, not because she was a fan but because she had studied the guests at the event, but he didn't know her at all and it was starting to become less of a problem to talk to her and more a reason to feel bad. He wasn't good at starting a conversation, and he doubted that in a situation like that asking her about her favourite colour was the best approach.

He opened his mouth, determined to ignore the anxiety bubbling in his chest, but let all the air in his lungs escape as soon as the lights dimmed. His manager tapped him gently on the shoulder, alerting him that this was the first sign that the catwalk was about to begin, and the insufferable twitch of his knee going up and down uncontrollably became present as soon as the murmur in the room died down.

He had barely had time to talk to the girl, Abril, and just when it seemed he was finally able to make a friend of his own, he was interrupted. He wasn't even able to concentrate on the introduction to the event, on what songs were playing as the first models came out. All he could think about was how sweet she had been to him, and how unresponsive he had been in return, even the impression he must have made on her, and all the phrases he would have said if he could go back in time.

But then he felt April's soft hair brush against his arm, her bright eyes still following one of the girls around the stage as she whispered excitedly about how much she loved that specific outfit. And somehow, all the voices in Jisung's head quieted down a bit. He cleared his throat, as if he could reset the reaction he'd had, and tried to locate the model she was talking about, offering his opinion on the jumper she was wearing.

It didn't take long for them to start gossiping, choosing a classic one-to-ten point system to evaluate the clothes, whispering numbers to each other between models, slyly pointing at them to discuss outfits. Jisung had a good time. He didn't feel judged when April made him giggle and his laughter sounded slightly louder than it should, and he didn't worry about the image he was giving, even when Felix gave him a look full of affection when he saw that anxiety hadn't crept up his chest until it choked him.

Even as the catwalk came to an end, and the CEOs of each fashion brand came out to greet the audience, Jisung was still glued to the girl, clapping but exchanging murmurs, and asked her to accompany him outside, to the small terrace hidden from the eyes of the people and Stays on the street, to say goodbye. Or meet Chan and Felix, whichever made her feel more comfortable.

‘Actually, I have to take a taxi home,’ said the brunette, clutching her small bag with both hands. ‘I have to get there before the pizza delivery guy.’

Abril's laughter at the joke Jisung hadn't understood hung in the air, the Korean's face turning somewhat serious. After nearly two hours with her, maybe letting her leave so quickly didn't sound so good to him.

‘Maybe we can drop you off at home,’ he proposed, forgetting to glance at his manager to confirm that he could do that.

‘No way, don't worry,’ she replied, resting a hand on his arm. Her smile was genuine, and Jisung wondered if she really didn't care if she had to pay for the taxi or if she was just saying that to avoid compromising him. ‘It's right here... huh, well, near here. And my friends are waiting for me.’

Jisung looked at her, letting her know with a raised eyebrow that precisely because it was nearby, even if it wasn't, it was no problem for them to drop her off.

‘If your fans see me get into your car, my public career is over,' she added, this time with a compelling reason.

Jisung deflated, knowing she was right, and gave her an apologetic smile. Maybe in Spain the fans weren't as controlling as in other countries, but there were freaks everywhere, and a photo taken out of context could ruin her life and force him into hiatus.

‘Anyway,’ Abril continued, averting her gaze, but letting him notice the mischievous glare that didn't promise anything good, ‘if you're going to stay longer in Madrid, the tour offer still stands. Signing whatever NDAs it takes to make you feel safer, just as a friend showing you around town.’

‘For real?’ 

Jisung saw that as possible. It wasn't the first time they had attended events in other countries and seized the oppotunity to visit the city or go out with friends. It wouldn't be anything they hadn't done before. Even his company could run Abril's digital footprint if they didn't trust her. The city looked very nice, and he knew he wouldn't be bored with her. He could even invite Chan and Felix and introduce them.

‘Tomorrow is the birthday of two of my best friends,’ Abril explained, making calculations with one finger, counting days in the air. ‘We're going to Warner's, which is an amusement park very close by. I know Lucas won't mind if a few extra friends join us. And then I think we're going to Murcia for a couple of days, but you can join us. We're good people, I promise.’

And he knew she wasn't lying. A soul as pure as hers could only get along with people just as fantastic. The plan sounded good, and even if his managers wouldn't allow him to travel with strangers, they couldn't deny them a visit to an amusement park, so he was going to be able to see her the next day. That was enough for him.

‘I'll have to consult about the trip,’ he announced, taking a breath of air to pretend he didn't feel guilty about making decisions without the input of his hyung and his sunshine twin.

‘Mm-hm,’ she murmured, nodding. It was fair, she understood that.

‘But I'll see you tomorrow at the Warner.’

‘Oh my God, that's fantastic!’ she exclaimed, tightening her grip on the young rapper's arm, her touch warm in the Spanish capital's night breeze. ‘If you need anything, text me on Instagram!’

Before he could react, the girl threw her arm around his shoulders, pressing him against her body in a light embrace, and hurriedly said goodbye, unlocking her phone screen to check the time and blurting out a string of what sounded like really aggressive insults in Spanish. Jisung believed that Spaniards dined very late if they pretended to have pizza at eleven o'clock at night, but he himself usually made himself ramen if he got home past midnight from the studio, so he couldn't say anything about it.

He saw her white lace dress flutter behind her as she walked down the stairs to the main entrance and disappeared into the crowd, but he heard a loud whistle followed by an unmistakable ‘Taxi!’ in a strong, musical Spanish accent, so he assumed she would have gotten a ride the first try.

He turned towards the inside of the building, looking for Felix's unmistakable blond hair, which would be the easiest to spot in the midst of the people, and waited in his corner for his friend to get lost in the area Jisung was in. The staff would wait for all the guests to leave the venue before starting to collect chairs and decorations, but a few people with the organisers' branded clothing and name badges were already guiding the stragglers to the entrance.

Jisung felt that it would be an opportune moment to pull out his phone, and at least try to contact Chan or his brother to let them know where he was. After giving a couple of rather competent directions, it was Jaehyun who succeeded in reaching him, and Felix who greeted him with a pat on the shoulder and his eyebrows going up and down suggestively.

‘That's a rather childish reaction when you consider I'm a taken man,’ he commented, before the blond could say anything.

‘That wasn't why,’ he protested in response, the high-pitched whine catching in his throat. ‘But you could share her number around the group or something, in case anyone's interested.’

Felix laughed at his own words, as if he had told a joke, and Jisung rolled his eyes playfully. He shook his head, giving Felix up as impossible and turned to his leader when he called his name.

‘Did she know us?"

‘She's a Kpop fan, but not Stay,’ he explained, getting defensive. If they had been the ones sitting next to Abril, they probably would have introduced her by now and been close friends. ‘I wish you guys had met her, she has that responsible little girl aura in her.’’

He saw Felix frown, but ignored it. He thought it was a fairly apt description, but it was true that it was a little strange if you hadn't interacted with her. It reminded him a little of the way the blond himself lit up the room he was in, and made you feel special when he gave you his undivided attention. But he couldn't ramble on about what description to use for his new friend. He had more important things to think about.

His priority was to figure out how to introduce the subject of meeting up the next day without causing rejection out of mistrust. Because he knew that no matter how much he could inspire Felix's enthusiasm, the final say would rest with Chan and Jaehyun, his manager, who were directly responsible for him, especially overseas. And while Jae answered directly to Division 1 (and sometimes their mother), Chan would primarily look out for his safety. And Jisung had to admit that it didn't look very safe.

‘Jae hyung, do we have plans for the next few days?’

‘A scheduled visit tomorrow to the Bernabéu stadium for Chan,’ he said, trying to recall the trip schedule from memory. ‘But nothing else. Do you want to add anything?’

‘Can we go in the afternoon to the Warner?’ continued Jisung, waiting for that pause when the question would sink into their heads before they asked what that was.

But they didn't have to. Felix grabbed his arm, his eyes wide with excitement looking up at him, as full of excitement as Abril's had been when he'd told her they'd see each other tomorrow. He knew Felix wouldn't let him down ーwhat had surprised him was how quickly he had reacted.

‘What is...’ began Chan.

‘Do I  want to know what Warner's is?’ interrupted Jaehyun, crossing his arms.

‘It's the amusement park in Madrid!’ exclaimed Felix, doing all the work for him. ‘Can we go? Please, please, please?’

Chan narrowed his eyes, recognising Jisung's gesture of faux innocence, but decided to keep quiet, leaving the decision in the manager's hands. For a few moments the four of them were silent, and Jisung could count his heartbeats in the time it took Jaehyun to contrast pros and cons. Felix had his eyes closed and his fingers crossed, and at the sight of that the manager could only exhale a defeated sigh.

‘I'll take care of getting the tickets,’ he murmured, hiding a smile at the excitement of the younger ones.

Unable to sit still, Jisung fidgeted once more in the seat of the tinted-window car he felt he had been in all day. It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and although Seoul would soon start to cool down, Madrid was still at a temperature he wasn't used to. It was very hot, and having to wear a mask and a hat to avoid being recognised only made his long-sleeved clothes more uncomfortable. He was looking forward to getting to the amusement park, but sometimes his only wish was to get to the hotel and take a cold shower.

The night before, he had made a video call with Minho, telling him everything he had experienced, from the tense moments to the sweetness of the lovely April. He had listened for quite a while until Jisung realised he had no idea what time it was in Seoul, and when the dancer told him not to worry, that it was worth listening to him talk about his day, Jisung hung up on him, because he knew Minho would answer a call from him even if he was very busy. He believed there were limits.

For example, when he found out that it turned out that eleven o'clock at night in Spain was six o'clock in the morning in Korea, and he was almost certain that he had woken Minho up.

But he hadn't been able to sleep, too excited about what would happen the next day. He had been up late watching videos on YouTube, and by the time he realised he could look up Abril's account it was already one o'clock in the morning. The long plane flight had messed up his sleep schedule, and he didn't really feel tired, so he started watching his new friend's latest vlogs.

He browsed through the covers of all the videos, guided by the images, as the titles were of no use to him ーhe didn't understand them at allー and ended up watching one from the previous week, which featured the logo of his band. As it started, an upbeat tune began to play while the intro was shown: figures of celebrities with the effect of being cut out of paper appearing and disappearing against a light background, and then the same words he had seen as the title. With one difference, however, the small addition of the name of the event he had gone to earlier that same afternoon.

And then April appeared, this time with her hair in a bun, though just as tight, and began to speak. It took Jisung about forty seconds to realise that he didn't understand a word she was saying. He snorted, suppressing a smile, and stopped the video, praying that there would be Korean among the subtitle options. As he searched for it, he found himself thinking that this was probably what all the international Stays were suffering from with their group's content. He should talk to Division 1 to make sure there was a variety of language options before uploading their videos.

When he pressed play, Jisung understood what the Spaniard had meant when she said she had researched which celebrities would represent which brands. The video was basically about that. She had a roulette wheel with the main fashion brands, all invited by the organisers, and throughout the twenty minutes of her explanation he talked about what the event was going to be like, and who she would meet once inside. At the mention of Prada, Valentino and Gucci, Jisung remembered seeing the people Abril was talking about. But the minutes passed quickly, enchanted by her voice, until he realised that she had left Fendi, Louis Vuitton and Balmain for last.

’The new addition to Europe is the three members of Stray Kids coming to Madrid,’ he had heard her say, as the group photos they had taken for Maxident appeared on his screen. ‘It's rare for a Kpop group to show so much interest into send so many of their members to fashion events, but we're thrilled to welcome them.’

Abril had given a short summary of how the Korean music industry worked for those who had no idea, and then had objectively detailed what role each had in the group and which brand had invited them. Jisung had liked the professional and open way she had introduced them, and once again he understood why he had felt so comfortable with her. She made you feel welcome, listened to. She made you understand without making you feel dumb. With one warm look you knew you could trust her.

So he had told Minho, before he noticed he was falling asleep again.

But at that moment, in the car, after a busy morning in which he'd been late for his gym session with Chan and then they'd walked around the city before visiting the stadium of his hyung's favourite football team, it was too hot. He rolled up the sleeves of the oversized jacket he'd bought before the trip once more and turned to Felix, leaning his head against the backrest with a huff. The blond, who had his phone in his hands as he played some Genshin, made an acknowledging noise, leaning against Jisung.

’We're getting close, Ji,‘ his manager said from the passenger seat, picking up on his uneasiness.

He didn't reply, too abstracted to notice that Jaehyun couldn't see him nod. He fiddled with his own phone, removing and replacing one of the corners of the case, deciding if it was a good idea to text Abril. He didn't have an individual Instagram account, even though more than half the members were considering creating one, and he didn't know if they'd let him use the group one for something like this. He hadn't discussed it with anyone, that he wanted to meet the girl at the Warner, and not knowing if it would look bad to his friends made him think too much in his head.

He wasn't even listening to the distracted answers Felix was giving Chan, when the older boy asked him about what kind of attractions they would find, which ones he was most excited about. He went into the Instagram app he had almost unused, then turned off the screen. He looked for Abril's username, which he had memorised from her Youtube videos, then turned off the screen. When he turned it back on, the search box had gone blank, so he had to type it in again. But when he finally had her account in his hands, he had to turn it off again. He wanted to contact her, but somehow it felt wrong.

And then he noticed Felix giving him playfully with his head on the shoulder, as if he didn't have to curl up slightly to do it, as if he were a kitten, and heard him say ‘Do it.’

He didn't even notice the way his own heart stopped, thinking he'd been caught committing a crime. He glanced at Felix fleetingly, his wide eyes colliding with his best friend's soft gaze, and snuck into the Spaniard's private messages, hoping his coy ‘Just arrived at Warner's, where are you? Jisung’ along with the blue symbol next to @ realstraykids indicating his authenticity would get Abril to see it as soon as possible. And then he took refuge in Felix's embrace, the two of them entwined like the hands of two lovers, answering Chan's questions with renewed energy.

Jaehyun escorted them to the entrance of the huge amusement park, letting them wander along the cobblestone paths once he displayed the tickets he had gotten the day before online, and Jisung tried to calm himself, not to look at his phone, to enjoy a moment with his friends. He let Felix, to whom he was glued by their linked arms, guide them to the first attraction, which had a short queue. Chan began to ramble on about the memories the pictures in the place brought back, and Jisung took a breath of air as he took in every person who passed him.

By the time Felix got his attention, Jisung had already had a heart attack for every straight-haired brunette girl he'd seen, and the touch of his best friend's hand in his arm brought him back to reality, to the spinning mugs with Scooby Doo decorations, and to his leader's terrible jokes about how it was a betrayal to be there without his own Mistery Inc. gang's dog, Seungmin. He closed his eyes to relax a little before the ride got started, and then had to hold on to Felix and his manager, looking for support that he could only find on the edge of the giant cup they'd been stuffed into as it began to spin.

It was fun, he thought. And then he let out a shaky laugh, hearing Felix's excited shout to his left, followed by one from Chan in front of him, and stopped thinking. He didn't need to. Not as long as he could rest his mind and fill his memory with moments like this.

And for a while it worked, leaving Scooby Doo's Tea Party Mystery and heading straight for the bumper cars themed on the Joker movie. The park was huge, and what was most striking was the continuity with which people were screaming. It was all conversation and laughter and screaming all around him, until he realised that he too was laughing with his friends, and talking. And he'd be screaming too, he thought to himself, when Felix pointed out all the roller coasters surrounding the hotels and the smaller attractions. The blond was going to want to go on one, probably the one that looked the most dangerous, as soon as they let him, even if he ended up passing out.

And Chan was going to let him go on one, even if it made Felix so dizzy, because it made him happy. He'd say it would be better if he could ride along with him, and that would leave Jisung alone, because Jaehyun refused to participate in crazy ideas like that. 

So after leaving with sore knees, but with his adrenaline pumping, he had resigned himself to it. They used the map they had been given at the entrance to get to the queue for the Stunt Fall, the star of the park, and after fifteen minutes of pent-up nerves, they found themselves first in line at the entrance to the roller coaster. Chan went first, Felix behind him, following the directions in English from the staff, and Jisung waited for them to come back for him.

‘Are you here alone?’ the boy asked him, in a rough accent.

Jisung nodded, his throat suddenly dry, and he began to regret it as he saw that he was being taken to the opposite area where Felix and Chan had been placed. But he said nothing. It wasn't worth it. He didn't feel able to formulate a sound, anyway. His vocal cords were as tense as the muscles in his shoulders, and if the girl in the seat next to him noticed as the staff secured the harness to his body and the belt to his lap, she said nothing too. Jisung closed his eyes and tried to swallow, highly attentive to the remaining people before the attraction was full and they could begin.

‘First time?’ he heard from behind him, as he watched the same staff member lead the couple who had waited behind his friends and him to a spot further down the queue of seats.

‘First time?’ the girl repeated, this time in English. Jisung turned to his left all too quickly, utterly convinced he was experiencing a déjà vu. This time he didn't need to squint his eyes to focus in the dark, but to make sure that the girl he had failed to greet nervously as he sat down wasn't Abril. She didn't really look anything like her, her skin slightly paler and her hair chaotically curly and much darker, but she was the owner of a similar smile. Wide, kind, luminous.

Jisung nodded again, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

‘Not mine,’ she said, as if it were a matter of pride. ‘Whenever I can I come with my friends. It's pretty awesome, but you don't have to be afraid of safety. Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise.’

‘Huh..., thanks.’ he muttered, taking another breath of air.

‘Do you want me to distract you for a bit?’ the girl asked, tilting her head to the side, her hands clasped in the harness, ’Or would you rather I leave you alone?’

Jisung was grateful to be able to choose. It gave his brain the feeling of being in control over something, even if before she finished uttering the second question he was already ready to say yes to the first. He would give anything to pretend he wasn't about to die.

‘A..., a distraction wouldn't be bad, actually,’ he managed to whisper, his words achieving to soften his travelling companion's sharp gaze.

‘Mm-hm, I'll tell you things then,’ she warned him, as if Jisung could back out at any moment. ‘You can interrupt me at any time, or tell me things yourself if you like. Did you come alone?’

‘No,’ he replied, glad to be able to focus on something other than the way the harness was digging into his skin. ‘I came with two friends, but we got separated.’

‘Oh, you didn't see the sign.’ she sighed, frowning as if the information really hurt.

‘What sign?’

‘We didn't see it the first time we came either,’ the girl recounted. ‘While you're queuing to get on, there's a sign that says if you don't have a partner to share seats with, they'll put you with someone who doesn't have one either. That's why they put you with me.’

‘You came alone?’ asked Jisung.

‘Nope,’ she said, smiling. ’I also came with my friends. But there are five of us. One gets dizzy so she goes with the one who doesn't have phobia to highs. And of the other three, last time Lucas went alone, so this time it was my turn. My name is Noa, by the way.’

‘Jisung.’ he spoke, more cheerful. ‘The same thing happened to me. Felix gets dizzy, so he can't go alone. And I wouldn't be much help either.’

‘It's all right, Jisung,’ said Noa, savouring every syllable of his name, ‘you can be helpful to me. Sometimes I need to squeeze someone's hand when the curves are too pronounced. If you need it too, we can make a deal.’

It sounded good. He knew she would gain nothing and that she was proposing it because he was probably so pale he looked sick. It was him who needed to be able to anchor himself to someone so he wouldn't get too overwhelmed, or dizzy, or faint, like Felix. Noa was already being helpful herself, and he would be eternally grateful - it was either trust her or ask the boring boy from before to get him out of there and let him put his feet on solid ground. For a moment he even wondered if she was so kind to all the rookies they put next to her when she went alone, or if he had been an exception.

‘I'd like to make the deal,’ he confided, putting his hand in front of them.

She took it, and Jisung's breathe hitched, feeling Noa's soft palm against his. ‘I promise to hold your hand very tightly and let you know what's going to happen so you won't be caught by surprise.’

‘I promise not to let go of your hand, and to hold it a lot tighter in response,’ he said, finally smiling, letting the air that had caught in his throat come out shakily.

They did not separate their hands once the deal was done. Instead, Noa rested them in her lap, humming whatever song was on her mind, giving Jisung a chance to observe her. She was tan, not as dark as April, but a caramel shade that made the light freckles on her cheeks blend in with the wrinkles that formed in her eyes when she smiled. Her hair was in a high ponytail, but the curls spilled over her bare shoulders like cascades of coffee. The top she wore was red, flashy, with a straight across neckline that clung to her chest, crossed by a black belt pouch.

He let his gaze wander until Noa's voice brought him back to reality, ‘There's a minute left, maybe you should put your hat away, so it doesn't fly off.’

Jisung hadn't thought of that. The clothes he was wearing were loose, just the way he liked them, and he hadn't brought a backpack. All his belongings were with Jaehyun, as were Felix's and Chan's, so he didn't know where he could leave it. Noa probably saw the doubt in his eyes, because with her free hand she reached up to his head, murmuring a quiet ‘May I?’ and waiting for a nod before taking it. Jisung watched her fold it in half and tuck it as best she could behind her back, shoving it between her skin and the secure grip of her bra. His cheeks flushed red when he noticed, but he said nothing, letting her settle back in.

She flashed him a smile and he grinned back, leaning back against the seat, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He felt Noa's hand give him a friendly squeeze, and even though fear was beginning to build in his chest, nerves rising in his throat, vertigo clouding his mind, he was able to return the squeeze, stroking the back of Noa's hand with his thumb.

And when the ride started, Jisung began to scream.

Once they returned to their point of origin, silence fell. It lasted only a few seconds before trembling sighs and adrenaline-fuelled screams began to sound, reactions that gradually ranged from euphoria to relief. Jisung would consider himself in the latter group, his heart pumping blood at full speed, if he wasn't too busy trying to figure out if all his limbs were still part of his body. His chest was rising and falling in hurried movements that looked too much like terrified hyperventilation, and he was still holding Noa's hand as if his life depended on it.

She belonged to the first group, however. She was a little dishevelled, taking big breaths of air, but her eyes shone with the intensity of someone who had just experienced a great adventure. Jisung wanted to memorise that vision, but he felt a tingling on his skin that made him uncomfortable, so he tried to close his eyes and think of something else. The worst part was over. He should have informed himself before going up, because he certainly wouldn't have set foot on the Stunt Fall if he knew it had a free-fall section of at least fifty metres, but at least he'd been lucky enough to get the ride with Noa.

While he had been screaming, yelling out phrases in Korean and English, thinking that his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any moment and that he was making a fool of himself in front of a beautiful girl, Noa had warned him that the worst moment was coming, and to close his eyes tightly. He had reacted two seconds too late, and by the time he saw the void opening up before him, even though he had curled up in his seat, his imagination had done the rest. It felt like the longest moment of his life, and he couldn't even recover before the ride played another trick on him with a section where the seats spun on their axis and he ended up upside down.

He didn't know whether he wanted to curse Felix for his love of roller coasters, or Abril for mentioning Warner.

He had to check if she had replied to his message. The reminder of Abril's presence at the park hit him like a bucket of cold water, knowing he'd left his phone in his brother's hands and would probably murder him if he found out, and he tried to get up, not realising he was still strapped into the seat by the harness. The restraint caused him to become even more distressed, his hand still numb but gripping Noa's tightly, and he gave her a frightened look.

Noa realised immediately what was happening, and slid her hand from his gently, holding it by the back to leave a quick caress. She removed the safety bar that had allowed them to hold on to something during the trip, and undid her harness before jumping down to the solid ground and starting to undo Jisung's. She removed buckles and loops quickly with the speed of someone who knows how they work, taking Jisung by the arm and escorting him to one of the less crowded corridors nearby. Jisung let himself be guided, his gaze blurring and his chest constricting his lungs, preventing him from breathing normally.

Jisung was losing control of the situation, and being aware of it made him feel even more overwhelmed. The heat wasn't helping, and even though the shirt he was wearing was quite thin, because he could feel Noa's hand on his arm, it clung to his skin with sweat. His legs were shaking, though whether it was his anxiety or the effect of the roller coaster, he didn't know, and he was shivering. The high temperature of the park, with all the people everywhere, seemed to grow by the minute, and Jisung thought it was very likely that he would pass out right there and never be able to return to Korea. No one would find him, no one would come looking for him.

‘Hey, Sung,’ Noa murmured, rubbing his arms, ’can I call you Sung, mm?’

Jisung nodded, eyes closed tightly, concentrating on his breathing. It seemed silly to him that he was having this reaction once it was all over and not when he had no idea what the journey might be like. It didn't make sense. And he knew that focusing on how pathetic he felt wouldn't help this attack to end quickly, but he couldn't help it. All the tricks he knew would disappear, his mind a blank, when anxiety began to bubble up in his chest and he wasn't in the comfort of his room, or with one of his members.

‘Listen, you're doing great, okay?’ he heard again, and tried to focus his gaze on her eyes, trying to distinguish where the brown started and the green ended, losing himself in the depths of her pupils, ’but I'm going to need you to breathe with me, yeah? Do you think you can do that?’

Jisung processed her words, frowning at the insistent dizziness he felt swirling in his temples, nodding again. He could do it, he wasn't losing his mind. He had to do it so he could apologise properly. A girl like Noa didn't deserve to have someone like him spoil a nice May afternoon with her friends. So he pretended that the shiver that crept over his skin had been from anxiety and not from her when he felt Noa's hand slide down to rest on his chest.

He also chose to ignore the way Noa touched him, all gentleness and decency, giving him the sweetest of looks, as if she'd done that routine many times before. Anyone with anxiety who had someone to lean on at times like that was very lucky, but having Noa was a gift. She didn't make you feel like a burden, instead she distracted you enough to make you think it was a team effort. That was why his breath caught in his throat when he felt one of Noa's fingers brush against the skin of his chest, unintentionally slipping through the hole between two buttons.

She seemed not to notice, too busy ensuring his well-being, and continued with her rehearsed choreography. She took the hand that hadn't been abused by the trip, grasping him gently by the wrist, and rested it on her own chest, slowly raising it with a breath, urging him to do the same. Jisung closed his eyes, feeling more clearly how smooth the skin of her collarbone was, soft and delicate under his guitarist's fingertips, and forced himself to mimic the calm rise and fall of her chest. 

No words were exchanged, none were needed, until Jisung felt sane enough to look at her again. They were only inches apart, arms locked and intertwined, her hands in his, and though he could only hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, he felt her own mirroing his quick race beneath his fingers.

Noa had beautiful eyes. Not only that, but the smile she offered hid an accomplice that made you want to follow her wherever she wanted to take you, and for a moment, Jisung wanted to. But he couldn't. He was trapped, between the wall and her hands, between the wall and her gaze, and he didn't want to run away. Every second he spent memorising all the intermingled shades of mahogany and forest green in her irises, and when he realised that he hadn't once taken his eyes off hers, he was shocked. Jisung was incapable of holding eye contact for more than a few seconds with anyone.

‘That's my girl, now kiss him!’

The spell broke as soon as Noa processed those words in Spanish, and Jisung's body moved a little closer to hers as she pulled away slightly.

‘He was having a panic attack, you moron,' she whispered, her low, strong tone contrasting with the gentleness of her hands against his skin.

Then Jisung snapped back to reality, his chest rising and falling more calmly, and he located the boy who had spoken. He had been cracking a rascally smile until he had heard the word panic - which was not so different in Spanish than it was in English, Jisung had been able to understand - and now he was approaching with a concerned gesture towards them.

‘Do you need ice? Do you want us to find you somewhere cooler?’ he asked, still in the language he didn't understand, dividing his attention between Noa and Jisung.

‘Use English, please,’ she asked him, leaving warm caresses on the back of Jisung's hands absently, ’he's a foreigner and it's not polite to gossip without him knowing what we're saying.’

Then she turned to him, giving him her full attention again, and said, ‘Remember I mentioned my friends earlier?’

Jisung nodded, remembering every word he had exchanged with Noa.

‘This is Lucas,’ Jisung turned to the boy, who had left a safe distance between them, waiting for instructions from the girl. His hair was disheveled, as if he'd just taken a nap, and all chestnut brown except for an unruly blond highlight in his fringes. ‘Her twin sister is the girl who gets dizzy that I told you about. She also has anxiety, so he asks if you need ice or a cooler place.’

‘Huh, thanks, Lucas..., Noa,’ Jisung's gaze flickered between one and the other, suddenly nervous. He wasn't used to that kind of attention, it made him uncomfortable to a certain extent. ‘I'm better now.’

‘Oh,’ Noa murmured, taking a step back and pulling her arms away from him. Jisung wanted to follow them, to place them back on his body, to keep feeling her touch on him. He repressed it. ‘Of course.’

‘I'm grateful, really,’ he repeated, as if that wasn't enough. Noa's gaze had flashed with pain at his rejection, and Jisung had hated it. ‘But I should go, my friends...’

‘Right, of course,’ she repeated, taking a step backwards, towards Lucas, like two planets orbiting on the same axis. ‘I understand, they must be worried.’

‘I didn't mean to...’

‘Hey, we made a deal,’ she reminded him, forcing a smile onto her rosy lips, ‘we've already gotten off the Stunt. Glad I could be of help.’

The deal was to hold on tight to each other, Jisung thought. And now she was letting him go. That wasn't part of the deal.

‘We could always get the groups together...’ Lucas wanted to propose, resting a hand protectively on Noa's shoulder.

‘Jisung!’

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. Behind Noa and Lucas was Abril, smiling as if her life depended on it, also slightly dishevelled but with the same cheerful vibe that characterised her. She had stood halfway, having recognised his slim figure and his dyed ash-blonde hair, and Lucas had turned around quickly, frowning.

‘You two know this one?’ he'd said, receiving a smack from Noa for continuing to use Spanish, ‘Are you swapping me for him? On my own birthday?’

‘We're not, dummy,’ Abril said, and Jisung found it odd to hear her voice a softer tone, using English to communicate and not the Korean they had spoken in the previous evening. ‘This is the boy I told you about yesterday, Han Jisung.’

‘Ahh,’ pronounced Noa, placing him in her memories, ’the nice guy from Balmain. I hadn't actually caught the name, sorry.’

‘That's okay,’ he said, shrugging, processing that Noa and April knew each other. For a person who wasn't used to Korean culture, understanding how names worked or being able to remember one must have been difficult. For him, their Spanish names were.

‘I still don't get it,’ Lucas interrupted.

‘You were drunk yesterday,’ Abril reminded him, reaching their level and bowing her head slightly in respect. Jisung did the same. ‘You made a terrible joke, let me remember... Oh, jamón serrano. Ham in English. Ham, because of Han. He's one of the members of the group that Carla likes.’

‘Carla is another one of our friends, but she didn't come today,’ Noa informed him.

Lucas made an affirmative noise, indicating that he already remembered, and was about to make a comment about it, searching for the right English words, when another shout was heard from behind him. Again an acquaintance shouting his name. This time his brother. Jisung grimaced, and turned slowly, avoiding making eye contact with him, and turning directly into Felix and his hyung, who were trailing after Jae and relaxed as soon as they spotted him.

‘Hey, hey, hey, hey,’ Lucas exclaimed, stepping protectively between him and the other three, ’do you even know each other?’

Jisung paused for a moment, wondering to whom the question was addressed, but before he could explain who they were, or even gazing at Abril fro help, his brother stepped up to Lucas, facing him, and replied in slurred English, ‘I'd like to know if you know him at all, because he's obviously my little brother.

The tension could be cut with a knife, and Jisung shifted uncomfortably under the incredulous stares of Felix and Chan, who couldn't believe they had just witnessed their manager's words. Jaehyun never let his emotions, and especially anger, spill over into his actions. Never. But before Chan could jump in to try and sort out the misunderstanding, Abril and Noa burst out laughing behind Jisung's back.

‘Lucas, he looks an awful lot like Jisung,’ Noa said, stepping forward with her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans, her face still holding an almost uncontrollable laughter.

‘It's actually kind of surprising that you didn't notice,’ April chipped in, tilting her head to the side, trying to stifle her smile behind Noa's shoulder.

Jisung saw Lucas blush, mumble an apology to Jae, who accepted it with a nod, and step back so that Jisung could approach his friends. The first to move closer when Jisung was near enough was his brother, putting his arm around his shoulders and asking him in Korean if he was okay. He explained that he hadn't been, but thanks to the girl he'd been sitting next to, he was feeling better now. Noa smiled at hearing her name, and Jisung found himself smiling back, adding that she had been the perfect rollercoaster companion.

‘I'm glad you had someone up there,’ Jaehyun stated, looking up at the ride, which had started up again, and feeling guilty for not getting on with his little brother. ‘Are you going to introduce us to the fashion girl and her friends?’

Jisung blinked, confused, thinking that Jae's next action as manager would be to say goodbye and send them back to the hotel, but he nodded and turned to the three Spaniards.

‘Guys, this is my brother and manager Han Jaehyun,’ he began, resting his hand on the one Jae had on his shoulder, ‘then there's Lee Felix,’ he continued, letting the blonde flash one of his brightest smiles, ‘and Bang Chan hyung, our leader.’ Then he turned to his friends, and prayed that he pronounced the Spanish names correctly. ‘Abril I met yesterday on the catwalk, because she was sitting next to me. Noa was the one who saved me just now, and made me survive Stunt Fall,’ he shared a smile with her and then paused, glancing at the third member of the trio, and finished the introduction, ‘and Lucas, huh, the friend who thinks I'm jam.’

‘Ham,’ he corrected him, ‘Yummy, Spanish ham.’

‘They're the ones on the albums Carla buys,’ Abril explained, turning to Noa and Lucas. ‘Stray Kids, the ones she had saved up for the concert in Madrid and couldn't go to because it was cancelled due to covid.’

Noa nodded, as if she already knew all that information, but Lucas was too busy staring at Chan.

‘Luc, that's creepy,’ Abril said to him. ‘Stop, please.’

Jisung saw Chan blush slightly at the Spaniard's attention, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't tell if he was uncomfortable or nervous, but he knew that Lucas's nonchalant nature was shocking him a little.

‘It's just that he rings a bell, but I can't place him,' he explained.

‘Oh, I know!’ exclaimed Noa. ‘It's from the Korean reggaeton music video! He's the one who plays the bodyguard!’

‘Korean reggaeton?’ asked Chan, confused.

‘Maknae on top’ replied Abril, and their leader raised her eyebrows in understanding. ‘Carla, our Stay friend, teaches them Kpop songs if they say things is Spanish or have a Latin beat.’

‘But Lucas recognises Chan because there was a time when you kept playing the video over and over,’ Noa informed, smiling half-sideways, waiting for Abril's poorly suppressed alarmed cry at being exposed.

‘I'm a Seventeen fan, shush,’ she confessed. ‘Besides, they sure don't like talking about this stuff.’

‘Oh, we like knowing that people enjoy our songs, don't worry,’ Felix said, smiling, enjoying the chaos. ‘I'm the one who says ‘Felix Navidad’ in a song called Christmas Evel.’

‘And your name is Felix,’ Lucas spoke, letting out a laugh, ’It’s genius, I love it.’

‘Jisung and Chan are the ones who compose and produce all their songs,’ Abril added.

‘And Changbin,’ Jisung added.

‘And Changbin,’ Abril repeated, apologising with a smile.

‘Oh my God, enough with the work talk,' Noa interrupted, stretching her arms and rotating her wrists, as if standing still for too long bothered her. ‘Do you want us to show you around? We can even go back to Madrid, if you want.’

The three of them looked at Jaehyun automatically, as if waiting for an answer, and he tried to keep a straight face, crumbling the moment Felix tugged at his shirt sleeve, taking advantage of the effect of his adorable pout. Jae shrugged, deflating like a balloon as he exhaled a tired sigh, and Chan put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

‘You know what the limits are,’ he said, in Korean, looking at Jisung, as if he were to blame for everyone's enthusiasm. ‘And that you don't know these people. They can be fans, they can be stalkers.’

‘Han-nim, if I may,’ Abril interrupted in her soft Korean voice, approaching slowly and timidly, as if she didn't want to get Jisung in trouble. ‘It's true that I'm a fan of your work and I know the Kpop world, but we're not sasaengs. I can give you my word, and speak on behalf of my friends, we simply want to leave a good impression of your first visit to Spain. If you don't trust me, I can show you the content I do on my social networks, and Noa's, even tell you what the rest of them are doing or documentation that certifies that everything I've said is true. Nothing proposed is with bad intentions, we just want to have a good time because Jisung is a wonderful person and I would like to share my time with him and let him meet my friends.’

Jaehyun stared at Abril for a good time, a battle of hard, unmoving brown gazes between the older brother and the Spaniard, who was also an older sister, and then held out his hand.

‘I'm going to need you to sign confidentiality contracts, but it works for me,’ he pronounced slowly, his chest warming at the joy gradually visible on Jisung's face. ‘You're a sincere and kind girl, I respect and admire that.’

‘Thank you very much,’ she replied, accepting the compliment with a bow.

Felix hugged Jisung, excited, but Jisung waited to see the way Noa's eyes lit up when Abril translated her and Lucas what she had just spoken to his brother in his own language. He liked Noa. He liked the way the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and the soft curve of her arms when she held them close to her body. He liked the tendency she had to rotate her knees and wrists from time to time, or the mischievous turn her smile took when you least expected it. And he liked knowing that there were still a lot of details about her to discover.

Lucas whistled, drawing everyone's attention, and said, ‘I'm guessing the manager's going to need three more NDAs.’

Jisung turned, and saw three more people approaching. He assumed they were more of Noa's friends, and she confirmed it as soon as she noticed Jisung's questioning glance at her. One of the girls was undoubtedly Lucas' twin, with blonde hair falling down her back and the same grin. The only boy, also blond, had tattooed arms, and was pacing a step behind them, lost in thought. The other girl, approaching with a phone in her hand, and the terrifying look of an angry mother, was a Latina in a pretty sundress. And she was the first to open her mouth.

‘Oh, you must be so full of yourselves!’ she exclaimed, in Spanish, not realising that there were more people with them. ‘Get off the Stunt, disappear and then give no sign of life! I don't know what you want the phone for! You always have it in your hand but you never use it when you actually have to use it!’

The blond boy at her back cleared his throat slyly, and the soft noise seemed to snap the angry Latina out of her mindset. She interrupted herself, almost swallowing all the words she had been about to blurt out, and looked up at Jisung, her gaze softening instantly and curving her lips in a welcoming gesture.

‘Sorry, I didn't see you.’

‘In English, Nea.’ pointed out Lucas, voice still, knowing when to goof off, picking his battles wisely.

‘Oh, in English then,’ she repeated, switching languages. ‘Sorry about the show. It's just that they disappeared and we couldn't find them.’

‘That's all right,’ Chan pronounced, before anyone could say anything.

‘Who... are you guys?’ she asked, and Jisung knew the mom attitude wasn't a facade, because all her friends seemed to gather around her like chicks chasing their mama duck.

‘Jisung,’ Noa began, ‘the boy Abril met yesterday, sat next to me in the Stunt because they were uneven. Chan and Felix, along with him, part of a Kpop group, and Jaehyun,’ she paused looking at Jisung's brother, waiting for his approval so she knew she had pronounced it right, ‘is his manager. And Sung's older brother.’

‘Oh,’ said the blonde girl, still sheltering next to her twin brother, ‘welcome to Spain.’

‘She is Isabel,’ introduced the Latina, stepping forward and indicating with her hand the names of the newcomers, 'my name is Atenea, and this is Miguel.’ The tattooed boy waved his fingers in greeting, then folded his arms and stood behind Atenea, as she clapped her hands in the air. ‘I'm sure you'll have time to memorise them all. Any friend of my girls is a friend of ours, and that means you are already part of the group. I assume you've invited them to show them around town, right?’

Noa nodded, and Atenea smiled softly at her.

‘I can take care of talking paperwork with the manager while you tell them about the twins' birthday plans, in case they want to join,’ she told Noa, and Jisung smiled when he saw her and Abril give each other a sneaky high-five. If their group dynamic was even the slightest bit like theirs, he knew his older brother and Chan would consider her an equal. She was the force keeping all her menaces in check.

‘I know a food stand that is perfect to grab something to get over the Stunt Fall impression,’ Lucas said, starting to walk, Abril after him, and waited for Noa and Jisung to follow. ‘Your friend Felix is still a little pale.’

Jisung smiled, knowing that his sunshine twin would appreciate a sweet drink to recover from the faint, and also the nice detail from the Spaniard. He took a quick glance back, checking that Chan had found a spot next to Atenea, and that Jae was trying to communicate with Miguel ーit seemed that neither of them knew much English. Felix, who was indeed still a bit pale, had approached Isabel, who had fallen a bit behind, and had just whispered, ‘Happy birthday.’

He could get used to it.

© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

104/150 with lethal company?

104) I can hear it calling my name

.........

[Y/n], January 29th, [Log 001]

---I'm afraid this will be my last log. So I'm keeping this encrypted.

Everyone's gone, but I'm still here. And I'm terrified. We started on this job as strangers, and we became family. Now I'm all alone because of a stupid mask. A piece of scrap we should've just sold off.

But he thought it would be funny to wear. I don't blame him. He was always a jokester, willing to do anything to turn a frown upside down and make light of our dreary trips. I know he didn't mean to hurt us. He thought it was harmless. Honest to god we thought so too.

Until he started vomiting blood and tried grabbing me. He tore off my helmet, along with my tracker, but I managed to get away. I still don't know how. But I wish I was smarter about it, because I got lost.

Then I heard the ship's engines.

They must've thought I was dead. Or maybe they all died and the autopilot kicked in. I'm not sure. I don't even know the current time. But what I do know is that I'm stuck here now. Possibly forever. I could make an SOS but that monster is still outside. I had to barricade myself in this storage room and wait until it goes away.

It keeps knocking. I can hear it calling my name. But I know it's not him.

To anyone who reads this, don't pick up the porcelain masks. They aren't worth shit. It'll tempt you to put it on. Don't. You'll find better loot elsewhere. If you see anyone already wearing it, kill them. Stun them. Run. Whatever. Just don't let it take you.

And if you see me wearing it, put me out of my misery. I promise I'll understand---

Finishing what would likely be your final log, you sighed and slumped back against the wall, letting the tablet slip from your hands.

You don't know how long you've been stuck here--whether it's been hours or days.

But all you know is that the Masked on the other side of the door hasn't left. It was using your coworker's corpse, mimicking his voice as it pounded on the steel and tried convincing you to let it in, even shattering the window. For some reason it refused to leave you alone, and kept begging and begging until it began screaming unintelligently...

That would go on and on until eventually it would cease, weakly clawing at the door, only to rinse and repeat once it rested its voice.

You were starving, trying your best to ration the jar of pickles you were luckily able to find in this storage room.

Unfortunately, that's as far as your luck will go at this point. They were sour and made you want to vomit every time you ate one. But while you didn't want starvation to take your life, you weren't exactly sure how you really wanted to go out instead.

It sure as hell wasn't gonna be from that bastard who took away your friends.

"It's clear....all clear......come on out....the ship is leaving..leave....out.....COME OUT..!! COME OUT!! COMEOUTCOMEOUT-!!"

With your heart hammering in your chest, you curled up and covered your ears, squeezing both eyes shut. 'Fuck, it's losing its mind again...this is a nightmare..why did I ever take this job?' You tried not to focus on the screams so much, and instead prayed for some kind of miracle.

But in space, would anyone really hear your prayers?

Yet somebody must have, because the screaming abruptly stopped a minute later, being replaced by the sounds of heavy thumping and growling drawing near.

You only knew one other alien creature that made those.

And you knew it was pissed off.

Getting up and backing away from the door, you fearfully clutched a stop sign as you heard a series of terrified shrieks, roars, slamming and crashing sounds....before silence followed, save for the low growls you heard earlier and chewing noises.

Cautiously, you went back over and pushed aside one of the things covering up the window, and the sight on the other side was quite nauseating:

The Thumper was hovering over the Masked's body, teeth covered in blood and flesh as it tore into it, clearly wanting to savor this midnight snack.. But eventually it decided to drag the rest of the corpse away and to another part of the facility, only leaving behind a few shattered fragments of white dirty porcelain.

You couldn't believe it.

You were actually happy that a Thumper, of all things, saved your skin.

But you sure as hell didn't want it coming back for a second lunch. Now was your window of opportunity to get out of here. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was the only reason you were able to grab your loot and book it out of that storage room, being careful not to run into that Thumper again.

At least now you could go outside and (hopefully) send an S.O.S.

[httpiastri]

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER TWO (JEDDAH)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, etc.

word count: 6k

warnings: hmmm nothing except heartbreak in several scenes lol

author's note: guys im really sorry but im pretty mean to paul here..... like it got to the point where i rewatched jeddah videos of him and physically felt ill because i was mad at him LMAO 😭 but we'll get through this together!! this was supposed to include some other scenes but it was long enough as it was sooo 😶 summary for this chapter ig is yn feels very torn between her boys, and so do i. hope everyone has a good week (it's finally race week again aaaaa) !! 💗

also i think the next chapter might be shorter because i just wanna get it out already and i don't have a lot to write about in it hehe, fingers crossed that i can finish it soon<3

(alsoooo i proofread this a few days ago but i just cant find the energy or time to do it rn, praying that there are no big issues…. if there are, i would be so thankful if you could send me an ask or message etc 🙏)

series masterlist

"i still can't believe i missed out on the top ten again. and by just three hundredths, even..."

pepe shakes his head as you both make your way out of the campos truck, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair before pulling on his red bull cap. you can't help but chuckle – he's been like this all day, and all evening yesterday. you understand it, though; finishing just outside the reverse grid pole once again must feel frustrating.

not that you can relate. with a much better qualifying session yesterday in your second-ever qualifying in formula 2, you managed to snatch an eight-place finish. in other words, you will be starting third in today's sprint race, and just the thought of the probability of getting some big points sends tingles through your entire body.

"you'll get it next time," you say with a pat on your friend's back. "i mean, look at ollie. from p-nowhere last week to pole yesterday. that can be you next time around."

you've just come out of your morning meeting – morning meaning starting at ten and ending around noon – and now you're finally getting some lunch in the red bull hospitality. even during a race weekend like this, with mostly evening and night sessions, you still managed to oversleep and almost didn't make it in time for your meeting. you didn't get to have any breakfast, you had to run all the way from the shuttle to the truck, and you even forgot one of your racing boots as well as your phone in your hotel room. thankfully, you'll still have time to go back to the hotel before the sprint race, but walking around without your phone feels like being naked.

"speaking of ollie," pepe starts as you turn left and head into the formula one paddock. "are things between you two... alright?"

your eyebrows furrow together at the pause in the middle of his sentence. "why wouldn't they be?"

"well, i..." he stops again, and it makes you want to shake him. "i heard something. but it doesn't matter."

"who are you to decide that it doesn't matter?" you scoff. "tell me."

pepe sighs – he knows fighting you over this is a losing battle. you're way too stubborn to let go of this. "i heard that you were having issues. that you aren't happy, or something along those lines..."

you stop in your tracks, brain working in overdrive to comprehend what your friend is telling you. not happy with ollie? why would you not be happy with him? "who told you this?"

pepe stops in front of you. "i heard it from kimi, who heard it from... paul."

"what?" your eyes squeeze shut as your hands interlace on top of your head. "why would kimi come to you? instead of asking ollie himself?"

"you know kimi," pepe starts instantly. "he's young and gullible. i think he wanted to go for the see-if-the-best-friend-knows-anything strategy instead of asking ollie straight out." his hands squeeze your shoulders softly and you look up at him, a hint of a pout on your lips. "i guess he was scared that ollie would get mad at him or something."

"it's just-" you sigh. "it doesn't make any sense, does it?" pepe is just about to say something more when you cut him off with a dismissive swat of your hand in the air, stepping away from him and continuing your walk down the paddock. "let's just forget about it. i need lunch."

pepe stands frozen for a few moments before hurrying up to you again. he can't quite read your mood – you look unbothered, but he can't help but notice the slight touch of redness of your ears and the way your eyes seemingly can't focus on one thing for long enough. there's no way you can be over it already.

with pepe shutting up for a little while for the first time ever, you're left all alone with your thoughts as you continue your stroll. you know you should've asked for more information; you should've asked for details, for exactly what kimi said and how he worded it. you probably should also ask kimi himself for what paul told him. but right now, it's like a shadow is clouding your vision.

how dare paul say something like that? he must've known that the rumors he made up would spread like wildfire, as they always do in the formula paddocks. the snowball effect can make something tiny become huge, which is why you're always cautious about rumors. but apparently, paul doesn't care about that.

you're far too enraged to think even straight, and that's why it takes pepe pulling your arm to make you stop walking. you frown – to be fair, your frown hasn't left since it appeared a few minutes ago – but when you realize what it is that he's pointing at, both your frown and your jaw drop.

there's a swarm of journalists and fans following a ferrari driver down the road in front of you, which isn't all that uncommon. both charles and carlos are always incredibly popular. but what blows your mind is the fact that when you finally catch a glimpse of the driver's face, it's neither of the team's main drivers.

it's ollie.

"ollie! mate!" pepe yells, his arm waving erratically over his head. it takes a moment for the brit to find the owner of the voice, but he's tall enough to look over everyone else, and he's soon making his way over to you both. "i know you're popular, but this all seems a little excessive, don't you think?"

"i don't know what happened, as soon as the news came out..." ollie lets out a chuckle before turning to you, eyebrows raised at your expression. "i've called you like a hundred times, what have you been up to?"

"i left my phone at the hotel-" you begin but cut yourself off and shake your head. "wait, what news?"

when ollie starts speaking, time slows down. the entire world around you goes dark, the only thing you can hear being ollie's explanation of how carlos needs surgery and the call he got as he was having lunch. you feel lightheaded, almost like you could faint, when he speaks his final words. "...and they said i will be the one to replace him. i'm driving the formula one grand prix tomorrow."

you don't waste any time before throwing yourself into his arms, a loud squeal passing through your lips. "are you kidding me?" you exclaim, hugging him even tighter. "this is incredible, ollie! oh my god, i..."

"i can't really believe it myself, to be honest," ollie says, shaking his head as you part from the hug. pepe slaps his shoulder, congratulating his friend. "i would love to stay and chat, but i need to be in the car for the last practice, and i have a lot to get done-"

"go! go!" you usher, softly shoving him away back towards the journalists and fans who are still waiting just a few meters away. "we will talk later, okay?"

"of course."

and then you watch him leave – your boyfriend, the soon-to-be formula one driver – with a much lighter heart. this definitely helps you forget about all of the things regarding paul.

at least for a little while.

but of course, pepe stops your train of thought. "does that mean i get the reverse grid pole?"

you've never ever been to the ferrari garage before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-practice duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the garage instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull race suit, even. great.

you were in the middle of preparations for your sprint race when ollie texted you, and since you still had some time before the race started, you made it over to the other side of the paddock as quickly as you could. but unfortunately, that meant that you didn't have time to change your outfit into something more discreet.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

"he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "i really need to go, because the sprint starts in..." you shoot a quick glance to the clock on the wall. "forty-five minutes. my team is going to kill me. but go out there and show them, baby."

and that's exactly what he did.

though, that's not the only thing you were correct about; your team was indeed furious when you finally made it back to the campos garage. your main engineer, who was supposed to help you get strapped in and fix all of the last details with the car over fifteen minutes ago, was apparently so angry he left you to do everything yourself. it's not that you didn't know about your schedule; you just needed to be there for ollie before his big debut.

everything works out in the end, at least according to you, and you're soon settled in your car on the grid, waiting to go on your formation lap. however, you've barely gotten as much as a glance from anyone on your team. you can't help but press the button to activate your radio. "i'm really sorry, guys. i just... had to do something."

"hope it was worth it." the voice of one of your engineers booms through your earpieces instantly, the sternness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. "we got a huge fine because you were so late to get into the car, so..."

another of your engineers speaks up. "let's focus on the race instead now. no need to fight."

maybe it was because you got to visit ollie right before the race, or maybe it was just starting third and having a good car. either way, the sprint race was one of your best races in a long time. not only did you pass richard verschoor starting one place ahead of you into turn one; you also overtook paul, who started from pole, before the end of the first lap and got to lead your first laps in formula two ever.

dennis came around to steal the lead from you, but just landing yourself a spot on the podium was enough for you to celebrate. when you scored a second-place finish where the guy in first place was one of your former academy members, it didn't really matter that the guy on the third step of the podium was your ex-boyfriend.

going through all media duties is always exhausting, but it's usually never as dreadful as it is today. sitting in that press conference, knowing that your boyfriend is starting his first ever formula one qualifying in just a few moments. you have to literally bite your tongue not to pull a valtteri bottas and ask the journalists how q1 is going.

when you're this busy, you don't really have any time to think about paul's rumors. though, something about it continues to loom in the back of your mind all evening. especially when he speaks in the press conference, despite how hard you try to not even look at him, and especially when he's asked about ollie.

as the press conference finally comes to an end, you're not the only one who wants to hurry out of there to watch the rest of the qualifying session. you and the rest of the podium trio find a big screen that's showcasing the session, and you all insist that you should stay and watch, despite the f2 staff members' continuous attempts to squeeze the last drops of content from you.

they keep stuffing their phones and cameras in your face, throwing all kinds of questions about ollie your way, but you refuse to budge. you won't let them ruin this moment for you.

you're sure they've gotten quite a lot of embarrassing pictures of you teary-eyed while admiring your boyfriend's results, though.

you follow the timing board like a hawk, but something breaks you out of your trance. "who are you watching?" your head snaps to the direction of the voice – the f2 instagram admin with her phone pointed to paul.

as if you all haven't been watching and chatting about ollie for the last ten minutes.

you try not to, you really do, but you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of paul. he's trying to look all innocent, hugging his trophy to his chest as his big, blue eyes blink up at the screen in the distance. a year ago, you would've just thought he was adorable – but today, this frustrates you more than anything. "i'm watching my dear friend ollie," he starts, eyes finding the camera so easily.

dear friend, huh? a dear friend is someone you spread rumors about?

the next time he speaks up, you have to physically bite your tongue to not yell at him. "the guy who gave me one position on tomorrow's grid."

you turn your head away in pure disgust. how could he say something like that? is that the only thing he cares about, places in his starting grid for tomorrow's feature race? is he serious?

you want to escape, to just storm off and never speak to him again. but instead, you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus back on the thing you're here for. ollie is doing so well; when q2 ends and he has driven his last lap, he misses out on q3 by just over a hundredth of a second. he almost even manages to knock out the legendary lewis hamilton, his fellow countryman whom he's been following for as long as he can remember, in his first-ever qualifying session.

you've never been prouder.

"honestly, as long as i can just bring the car home without wrecking it completely, i'm satisfied."

you give ollie's hand a soft squeeze at his words, fingers intertwining as your hands rest on top of the hotel cafeteria table. your other hand lifts your sandwich to your mouth and you take a bite, chewing it down quickly before giving him a nod.

you know his statement is meant as a joke, but you know it's just as much of a truth as a lie. driving an actual ferrari f1 car is his biggest dream, and even just making an alright race probably is enough to make him happy. there's no pressure on him, no one is expecting him to perform a miracle or even score some points.

but at the same time, you know he would never be satisfied with himself if he "just" brought it home safely. ollie isn't like that; he's way too stubborn, too determined, too much of a sore loser. it's what makes him. no matter what he says, there's always going to be something inside of him telling him that he needs to do better.

"i think you'll score your first points today," you tell him with a shrug. "i can feel it."

"don't say that, we don't know anything yet."

a shake of your head in combination with that smile of yours is enough to make some hope spark in him. "well, you have the car for it," you start. "and you have the skills."

ollie stays silent, letting the distant chatter of the other hotel guests having their breakfast fill the air. the cafeteria is emptying out by now, but new faces have been dropping in for a long time now, most of them walking by to give ollie a pat on his shoulder or a quick "good luck, mate".

you put down the last of your sandwich, leaving it behind with the fruit rinds and other scraps on your plate. "but don't think too much," you hum, eyes softening as they land on his. he's trying to contain his worries and anxiety as much as he can, but the slight tilt of his eyebrows and the way his gaze tends to dart away every once in a while tells a different story. "it's just driving. it's just what you always do, no problem."

you hold your glass of orange juice up to him and he gets the hint, clinging his own glass to yours before downing the last of its contents.

you're just about to speak up again with new words of affection, but an icy feeling spreads through your body at the sight of paul entering the cafeteria. the feeling soon turns into real nausea, and you can't even remember what you were supposed to say when you realize that he's making his way towards the two of you.

you want nothing more than to stay and keep encouraging ollie, but you can't take it at this moment. you stand up from your seat, giving ollie's fingers one last squeeze. "i forgot that i have a meeting soon," you make up. "so i need to go. i'll come see you before the race, okay?"

he doesn't even get to say bye before you've stormed off.

unfortunately, you have to pass paul in order to make it to the exit, but you make no effort to even recognize that he exists. you keep your gaze straight ahead.

karl, paul's physio, does a quick greeting from you though – as well as a confused look at the candle pressed into a pastry in one of the hotel's yogurt bowls – but then, you're off to hide in your hotel room until you're needed at the track for race preparations.

of course paul had to come by and ruin everything yet again.

with a good race from yesterday in the bag, you thought you could keep the momentum into today. however, that didn't turn out to be the case.

when a trident driver hit you from behind in the first lap, you lost a few positions instantly and after that, it was a bit too tough to recover. you had opportunities for overtakes, and the car was good enough to go through with them, but you never could. you kept slipping up, making rookie mistakes, and falling back even further. it even got to the point where your team came on the radio to remind you to focus on the road.

but no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't work. the entire race, something else clouded your mind.

or, more specifically, someone.

every time you even caught a glimpse of paul's silver car, it was like something in your mind short-circuited. the memory of your conversation with pepe, the thought about paul running around and spreading rumors about you in the paddock… you couldn't push the thoughts, or the anger, away.

other times, back in the day, you were always good at turning your anger into something positive for your races. if you were upset with your father for something he said about red bull or the junior program, you went out there and proved him wrong. if you heard that another driver had complained about how you just got your seat because you were a girl, you made sure to dominate the race.

your stubbornness was always your biggest strength. but today, it was like your tank had run out. as much as you wanted to completely crush paul, you didn't have the capability.

at least paul didn't have that good of a race, either.

the second you get out of your car, you storm off towards your garage. you know you'll probably get a lot of shit for your performance your entire debrief, but if you can at least get over with it sooner, then you can forget about it and refocus on the next race weekend. plus, you really want to catch ollie before he's away for his f1 debut.

thankfully, you're not the only one getting criticized during the debrief; the team is not very happy with pepe's start, nor his DNF. after they've gone on and on about how costly this weekend has been for the team for an hour, you're finally released, but not without one last reminder to "think about what you're doing here and whose time you're wasting".

it's natural to lose all energy and confidence after a race like this. but the second you're back in ollie's arms, it's like the world around you just disappears. he's always been the best at keeping you grounded.

you've probably never hugged him this tightly before, but you can't help it. the second your arms wrap around his neck, you pour everything you have into the embrace.

he looks so good, so handsome and professional dressed up in his ferrari race suit. not just his prema suit with the ferrari logo on it, but an actual ferrari outfit. he looks like a real f1 driver – and the realization that he indeed is a formula one driver now brings tears to your eyes.

"hey," he says around a chuckle. "don't cry on me, woman."

"i won't..." you reach up to wipe away a drop from the corner of your eye as you pull away slightly from his embrace, shaking your head. "i won't. i'm just so proud of you."

"why are you so sappy?" the scene in front of him brings a huge grin to ollie's lips – he finds you equal parts adorable and hilarious. "i'm just going out there to drive a car. no biggie."

"no biggie," you repeat with a scoff, dabbing your other eye quickly before doing your best to blink down your other tears. earlier today, you were the one saying all of this was no problem. and yet, now he is the one who has to convince you of it. "right. it's just your passion, the thing you love. but i'm still proud."

an engineer catches ollie's attention above your head, sending him a certain look that has your boyfriend nodding before giving you one last squeeze. "i think i should-"

"of course, go," you usher him, retracting from his arms. "i'll be here after, no matter what happens." he nods, and he's about to leave when you speak up one last time. "have fun, okay?"

"always."

who would've imagined that ollie would not only score points in his first ever f1 race, but also win driver of the day, have the most overtakes, and score a seventh place as the second best british driver of the race?

well, you had imagined everything from him coming last to winning the race by horse lengths. and yet, this was all so unexpected. if someone had told you on wednesday that ollie would score six f1 points three days later, you would've laughed in their face. but now, it feels like it's been a long time coming.

you weren't allowed to stay in the ferrari garage for the actual race – it would've been a pr nightmare for everyone involved – so your nerves were all over the place since you weren't able to hear ollie's radio messages, info about the strategies, and so on. at least you get to wait right outside the garage with jamie, chris and his dad david, being the first to congratulate him after such a good debut race.

he looks completely worn out when he finally walks out through the door, but you can almost feel the pride and happiness radiating from him. his sweaty hair rests messily on top of his head, and an ice vest is draped over his body already to cool him down from the insane heat. and, most importantly, the smile on his lips is bigger than it's been all week.

ollie looks like he doesn't ever want to let go of his dad's hug, his face nuzzled in the crook of david's neck for a long time. you can only guess what things the father is whispering in his son's ear, but when the result is ollie pulling him even closer, your heart expands in your chest.

when they part, it's jamie's and chris's times to congratulate the point-scorer, and when he pulls away from his manager's arms, his eyes land on you. you're pulled into his embrace in just a second, a giggle slipping past your lips when he lifts you up into the air and spins you both around. his strong grip around you never eases, not when he sets you down on your feet again and not when he starts speaking.

"i knew it would be hard, but..." he shakes his head, a sweaty fringe brushing against the side of your head. "my entire body is ruined. like, it doesn't hurt because i have so much adrenaline, but i'm going to be in so much pain later. my neck and my shoulders and-"

another one of your waves of laughter cut off his ramblings, and he joins in once he realizes what he's been doing. when you finally pull apart slightly and your hands come up to cup his cheeks, you're just staring into his eyes for what feels like forever.

your boy, the f1 driver.

"this is from your mum," you whisper to him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "and this is from your sister." a kiss to his other cheek. "and... this is from me."

ollie has to crouch down slightly because even when you get onto your tippy toes, you can't reach all the way up to his forehead. but once you press your lips against his skin, all of the hidden tension in his eyebrows disappears. he's like putty under your touch.

"i'm so proud."

ollie's groans are muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into, head twitching when your thumbs press into some tense areas of his neck. you shush him jokingly, like a mother comforting a crying baby, but your movements never halt.

ever since he got out of that car, he's been complaining about how sore he is. especially his neck and shoulders, and all of the muscles that were most affected by the g forces. you don't blame him, however – he's got a free pass for pretty much everything for the next week, you think – but you decided to be a nice girlfriend and help him out. the strings of whines and swearwords he keeps letting out don't seem to be stopping anytime soon, though.

the lotion on your hands is enough for you to be able to glide your fingers across his upper back, along his shoulder blades, all over his freckled skin. as you're straddling his lower back, you can reach pretty much all angles of his upper body, and the knots in his muscles seem to be disappearing despite how painful your massage seems to be.

eventually, ollie tilts his head to the side, his blushed cheeks decorated with lines from the pillow underneath him. his slight pout is on full display and his tired eyes flutter closed as he speaks. "hey, y/n?"

"yes, ollie?" you reply, your thumb pressing into one especially stubborn knot in his right shoulder. ollie stays quiet for a few moments and takes a deep breath, almost as if he's gathering courage for something.

"you know that i love you right?"

the world around you stops.

everything freezes.

he loves me?

your breath hitches in your throat at the words. it's the first time he's ever said them, and though it's not the most uncommon thing for someone to tell their girlfriend of over six months, they make your head spin.

a mishmash of thoughts clouds your mind. they won't shut up for even a second. but the loudest thought is the only one you shouldn't have; it's about the only person you can't be thinking about right now.

the way that your mind instantly wanders off to paul is frankly embarrassing, but you can't help it. he's the first boy you've ever loved, the first person you've ever uttered those three words to. the only one. and no matter how badly you wish you could just forget about that and move on, he's still a part of you. he's your only real experience of love.

and this just isn't the same.

you want to say it back to ollie, you truly do. but at the same time, you don't want to say it if it isn't true – it's not fair to him.

ollie senses that something is up. your signs aren't exactly subtle, anyway; your movements have stopped completely and he can't even hear you breathing anymore. "hey, i'm sorry-"

"don't apologize," you interject instantly, shaking your head as you start to climb off his body. "you did nothing wrong. i'm the one who's sorry."

"stop that, you shouldn't be." he turns around, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his. "i don't expect you to say it back if you don't want to. i just..." he lets out a low sigh. "i wanted you to know, i guess."

you sit still for a few moments, before leaning down to place a kiss on his rosy cheek. "thank you." another pause. "it means a lot, you know?"

"well, you mean a lot to me."

and he does to you, too.

but is that enough?

ollie loves me.

he actually loves me.

he told me today after the race, and... i didn't say anything. i just sat there like a complete moron.

i couldn't say it back. i just don't feel what i felt for paul yet.

what's wrong with me?

why don't i race like i used to? why can't i control my emotions? was the sprint race yesterday just luck? did i really deserve that podium?

why does paul still affect me this much? why is he always there in my thoughts – when i'm racing, when i'm with ollie, when i try to sleep...

i have a perfect boyfriend and a great car, so why do i feel like everything is falling apart?

yourusername just posted!

yourusername p2 in the sprint 🥈 big thanks to the team for the hard work!! and i got to witness the rb p1-2 up close, congrats redbullracing 💙 also check slide 4 for an appearance from me and my former family on f1tv <3

show all 96 comments

user y/n and the prema staff during the driver's parade 😭 they're so cute

→ user her referring to them as her family, byeeee

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user why is no one talking about the last slide???

→ user because i can't talk while i'm crying, sorry

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user great job this weekend y/n !!! thank you for signing my cap 🥺

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user loved to see her celebrate the red bull double podium even after a hard feature race ❤️

→ user she had to balance out the post with that max and checo pic 😭 would've been just ollie & prema otherwise

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user ollie looks like a baby in the second pic 🥲

→ user just a little boy playing with his toy cars

→ yourusername i had to hold his little teddy bear during the race to make sure it wouldn't get dirty

→ user stopppp you're so real for sharing that

[auraisereigh]

"For the love of... whatever lord you pray to"

Chapter 6

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Now that the assembly has been made, the first meeting awaits wc: 4.7k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Chaos, it's an assembling meeting, says enough. Star still struggling with the aftermath of the rebellion, that's still gonna be like that for a while. Flashback. Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

Star's masterlist main masterlist

Who would know that people who all stand for the same thing could argue this much.

Apparently some have very hard feelings against each other.

I look over to where Felix and Aethan stand at the end of the table, once me and Felix lock eyes I give him a subtle glare.

"For the love of... Whatever lord you pray to, shut up. All of you." My voice bites through the room and suddenly it's quiet. "Thank you." I say but it's far from a polite thank you.

"I made a list of things I wanted to discuss for this meeting." I say sliding the paper to the middle of the table. "But first, I wrote down the ranks for each member of the assembly. Feel free to object but I really don't care. Take it or leave it."

No one says anything. Good I wasn't feeling on discussing that sentence either. Ulices leans forward, intrigued.

"I've assigned Ulices and Suri to be in command of the remaining army that we have and over time hopefully rebuild our army. Any disagreements?" They better don't, I spent so much time on these. Aethan raises his hand. Lord. "No." I say before he can. "But I just-" he starts. "No." I cut him off.

I smile as he lowers his hand. "Perfect. Any other disagreements? No? Good." I say sarcastic.

I sigh as I look at the small paper I wrote all the ranks on. "I've decided that Felix and Trissa will be the head of writing and sending letters to possible allies. Though I will not object to personal letters being that are sent to allies being written by that person. Just, they," I say pointing at Trissa and Felix. "Are the ones that choose what goes out, what gets written and so on." I finish. Nobody disagrees. Trissa even looks slightly pleased.

"Kylynn, you're responsible for the weaponary. Yes we partly lost our forge. But from what Felix told me they are rebuilding that first so I expect you be responsible that our army has their weapons and that the forge keeps running." She nods sharply.

Now the most difficult part will come. Or in my words the 'this will end in a long discussion moment'. "I've chosen Felix as my aide." All heads turn sharply to where I stand at the head of the table. "I know and trust him the best. Though in this assembly most decisions will be made in a voting with the entire assembly, which includes my brother, Xaden, by the way. He will be part of the assembly once we can get him back here." I finish. "Now, for where that leaves me... I will be lieutenant colonel, head of this place. That doesn't need a reason. This is my house, my city and most important, my throne." I say pointing at my father's throne. My voice leaves no room for another opinion.

"Now, I'm new to this and doing it alone is not something I intend to do. Aethan will also be lieutenant colonel along side me-" I don't even get time to finish as they all Burst out in chaos, clearly not liking it.

I walk backwards and sit on the throne. In the corner of my eye I see Aethan walk towards me, that stupid sheepish smile on his face, I almost regret giving him that rank.

I hold my hand up so he doesn't say anything. All these adults are on fire with each other, I don't need someone else giving me a worse headache than I already have.

Ever since I came back I find myself being more irritable and short tempered than I used to be.

"Enough." Aethan says loud enough for everyone to hear. Suddenly it's quiet.

The ones that stood up sit down again.

"I have a few topics picked out for today as a first assembly meeting, though I'm pretty sure we won't come to an agreement today, it's a good start." I say, the headache pounding.

"What have you chosen for the first meeting, your highness?" Trissa asks, her voice soft as she seems to sense the headache going on.

Highness. That's true, if dads rebellion succeeded, I would be in line to become Queen, not just Duchess.

The thought has me closing my eyes for a moment, my hands leaning on the table.

"Rebuilding Aretia." I picked safe. It was that or let's see how to get my brother back but Felix hasn't heard back from Lewellen so it would be useless.

What If they tell Navarre we're still here? What if they choose Navarre? Loyal to them?

"It's in my understanding that almost all the civilians that survived the scorching have been taken in either here or somewhere else?" I ask

"Yes," Ulices starts. "About half of the people have been given shelter, here, at Riorson house. Others have been put in the stone houses that didn't burn. We're working on giving them food and medical care." I nod. "Is there a chance that we can start rebuilding?" I ask Ulices. The idea of being able to rebuild my home is a flicker of hope but it's the one I need right now.

"With what people?" Ulices asks with a raised brow. I hadn't thought about that. I don't even know how many people we still have.

Felix chimes in. "Though we may not have many people, we have some. And what is left of the army can also help the rebuild. It's not a lot, and it will go slow," he looks me in directly in the eye. "It is possible. We don't have a lot we can do right now so the start of rebuilding is smart. No one will suspect a thing, everyone thinks this land is cursed anyway." He finishes.

Kylynn looks at me. "As our forge is not running now I will overlook the rebuilding, where to start and who to use. We should prioritize what we will build first." She says, a hint of argument in het tone.

I nod grateful at her. Rebuilding Aretia could be the start of... whatever this is.

Suri seems to think the same thing as she scans the list of subjects I'd written down for this meeting. "And where do you plan on going with this?" She motions with her finger towards all of us.

"I wanna continue what my father started." I explain with a hint of insecurity.

Insecurity.

☆

"Now, remember that when you go in this meeting you don't show weakness." Dad explains as we start walking to the meeting room.

"No weakness or insecurity. It will only show that you don't know what you're talking about. Or that you care what they think, you don't." He says firm.

"Don't care about what they think because even though I sit in that throne now, one day it will be yours. And you will rule this city, this kingdom."

☆

After the meeting only me, Aethan and Felix remain in the room. The Assembly had agreed to slowly start a new Rebellion but call it a Revolution as we don't plan to attack. We just want to help innocent, defenseless people.

"Any news on Xaden?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Felix looks at me before shoving a letter to me. "House Lindell has received both Liam and Xaden." Felix confirms. "They still swear alliance to Aretia and your father's idea." A hope sparks in my chest.

"So he can come back here?" I ask trying to keep the hope out of my voice. "House Lindell has offered to bring both Xaden and Liam back to Aretia but not now. Too much has just happened and if someone comes to check if Xaden is at House Lindell and he isn't..." Felix explains as I scan over the letter. "They could execute him." I finish for him.

He nods. "House Lindell has proposed to let things calm down for now. That perhaps it would be better to bring them back in a month or two." He speaks so carefully like the wrong words might shatter the pieces I still have of myself.

"Okay." I whisper. "Hey, it's not all bad." Aethan Chimes in. "Now you can slowly prepare for your brother's arrival, you've always enjoyed these things, right?" He walks closer so we're almost touching. I nod.

He will come back. Soon. He has to, it's the last thread of hope that I have. The last light that shines through.

☆

That night, I spend almost the whole afternoon there. Aethan and Felix thought it would be a good idea to come up with a few other topics for the Assembly meetings.

We'd decided that for now meetings would occur every morning, seeing as there was so much to do but over time we Would only do it when it was necessary. At the end of the day, everybody got their jobs so there would be no need to make a meeting about the littlest of things.

After I read through all of the letters Viscount Tecarus of Cordyn had sent to my dad in past, seeing as that was another topic I wanted to bring up, I pack it all up in a small notebook for tomorrow and head to my room.

It's when I open the door that I see a plate filled with food on it that I become suspicious, no one comes in here and those who would are dead.

I drop my notebook next to the plate. Theres a small piece of paper next to it, I put two fingers on it so it stays in place.

Figured you would be hungry seeing that it was probably a long day.

- B.s

Brennan.

His handwriting is that typical of a scribe, slightly messy but readable. Like he makes a lot of scribbles.

Like he's the son of a scribe, not a rider.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog

[mcdonaldsplayground]

| actually the worst | part 3

ao’nung x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | bonus part

summary: your relationship with ao’nung has become complicated, to say the least. every second you spend near him makes you hate him even more, but it’s hard to hate someone when they can’t stop touching you. however, things only seem to get worse when a fight breaks out and you get hurt.

includes: enemies to lovers, swearing, teasing, fighting, ao’nung being rude😤

word count: 3k

a/n: i’m sorry i did not think this was going to have so many parts, but i think i gotta just keep writing until it feels finished🫡 also pls lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series:) i hope i already added everyone who asked in part 2

“[Y/N], hurry up!” Tuk whined, dancing around the entrance of the marui as she waited for you. You sighed, cracking one eye open.

“So much for napping, I guess.” You began to get up, stretching out your limbs, taking as long as possible.

“You said you would walk me to the beach for lessons! We’re going to be late!” Your sister frowned, crossing her arms as you continued to drag your feet. The truth was, you were putting off going to lessons. You hadn’t seen Ao’nung since the ilu riding incident and frankly, it had been relaxing. He had apparently been too busy with his warrior training for the past week, but Tsireya said he would be joining you all again today. Tragic.

“Tuk, maybe you should just tell them I’m not feeling well.” You tried, giving her a hopeful look. Of course, she wasn’t having it.

“I overheard you and Kiri talking this morning about the reason why you don’t want to go…” She started, the beginnings of an evil grin showing on her lips. “It would really be a shame if I had to tell Ao’nung that you’re scared of him.”

“I am not!” You exclaimed, mentally kicking yourself. “He’s just an annoying pest is all.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Now, let’s go!” Sometimes you wondered if she was really your younger sister with the way she manipulated you and your siblings. Most of the time it was funny, but today you were irritated.

“You have no sympathy, woman.” You shook your head, watching as Tuk grinned triumphantly and began skipping outside.

The short walk to the beach consisted entirely of Tuk skipping and humming a little tune while you ignored her and went over the best plan for avoiding Ao’nung. You decided that avoiding eye contact was crucial to ignoring him. At least then you wouldn’t get that stupid feeling in your stomach and you could maintain some sanity.

“Look who decided to join us, how kind of you!” Kiri chirped teasingly when you and Tuk finally approached where they were waiting on the beach. You felt a little bit bad considering they had probably been waiting a while, but didn’t dwell on it long when you noticed Ao’nung and his signature cocky smirk staring right at you. You made a point of looking away, focusing on Tsireya instead.

“Sorry, Reya. I wasn’t feeling well earlier, but I think I’m okay now.” You apologized, though you knew what you had said was pretty much the exact opposite to how you currently felt, especially when Tuk decided to pipe up.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure [Y/N] felt sick because Ao’nung is-” She didn’t get to finish as you cut in hurriedly.

“Um, what are we doing today?” You didn’t miss the surprised expressions everyone wore, you just silently prayed they would gloss over it. Unfortunately, the last person you wanted to hear from spoke up.

“No, what was she going to say? That you felt sick because of me?” You continued to avoid looking at the boy, but you could practically hear the smugness on his face. You realized that the only way out now was through.

“Yeah, I was telling everyone that I think looking at your face triggers my gag reflex.” You watched the others’ reactions instead of Ao’nung, hoping your refusal to meet his eyes was annoying him.

“Funny. I was just thinking about how much your freaky forest face-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, bro.” Lo’ak cut him off in annoyance, though he was grinning at the bickering. You felt relieved, but still pretty tense. You had come to believe that was just a side effect of being near Ao’nung. Oh, how you longed for last week when he wasn’t around.

As the tension lifted and everyone started getting in the water, Lo’ak nudged you, grinning.

“Can’t you just get along with him?” He asked and you cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s rich coming from you. You hate him just as much as me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a crush on him.” Lo’ak cackled as your jaw dropped, nearly going into cardiac arrest.

“What! I- You- I do not have a crush on him, Lo’ak!” You hissed, glancing around to see if anybody could hear you. Luckily they were preoccupied underwater.

“Whatever you say, [Y/N].” Lo’ak shook his head, still chuckling as he dove underwater, leaving you seething.

While everyone practiced diving and swimming around the reef, you couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Lo’ak.

He was wrong. How could you have a crush on someone whose lights you wanted to punch out? His entire being made your nerves jump and your heart race because you hated him. Yes, Lo’ak was wrong, and you were going to prove it.

Well, you were going to prove it later when you weren’t so out of breath. You surfaced for the millionth time that day, breathing hard from trying to push yourself to stay down longer. Beside you, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in a similar state. Only Kiri seemed to be adapting well, but even she couldn’t stay down half as long as the Metkayina. You were about to try your hand again when Tsireya popped up, followed by Rotxo and Ao’nung. You silently groaned.

“This isn’t working. You have learned nothing.” Ao’nung jibed.

“Yeah, no offence, but you guys kind of suck at this.” Rotxo laughed, sharing a grin with his best friend. You huffed.

“I think we should go back to the basics. We can do some breathing lessons outside of the water to build up your endurance.” Tsireya explained, smiling encouragingly.

“Breathing lessons?” Ao’nung snorted. “That is how babies train.”

“Perfect for you, then.” You muttered, turning to follow Tsireya back to shore.

When everyone had been rounded up on shore, you all sat in a circle amongst the greenery. It would have been relaxing, except for Ao’nung, who chose to sit directly beside you. The close proximity reminded you of how his touch had felt on your skin, how he radiated body heat despite being in the water most of the time. The thoughts made you want to reach over and strangle him. The only good thing was that being beside you made it easier to avoid his gaze as you kept your eyes straight ahead on Tsireya.

She began to teach you about some breathing techniques, like how it was best to breath deeply from the abdomen rather than your chest. When she mentioned the importance of relaxing and slowing your heartbeat , you had to force yourself to forget about the infuriating presence beside you, which was proving difficult. Your heart beat was decently slow, but you were tense and very aware of your surroundings, like how Ao’nung’s knee was mere inches away from your own. The space between you felt charged with energy and it seemed to transfer onto your skin.

“Here, breathe from here.” You heard Tsireya say gently, and you cracked your eyes open. She had placed her hand across Lo’ak’s abdomen in an attempt to get him to breathe correctly. After a moment she said, “Lo’ak, your heartbeat is fast.”

You immediately shared knowing looks with your siblings, chuckling to yourself at how hard Lo’ak was trying to remain calm and nonchalant. Tsireya’s small smile convinced you that she knew what she was doing, making you silently laugh even more.

“What are you laughing at, skxawng?” You heard from beside you, and it took some effort not to turn your head toward him and make some snide remark.

“Nothing.” You replied blankly, trying to focus again on breathing.

“Nothing?” He breathed, quiet enough that only you could hear. Then, without warning, his warm hand was pressed firmly but gently on your abdomen, nearly sending you to Eywa. You froze, afraid that if you moved it would bring attention to the two of you. Your whole body shivered at the sensation of his touch, quickly warming as if a fire had blossomed right where his hand sat, calm and steady.

“If you don’t breathe sometime you’re going to pass out, forest girl.” His voice dripped with amusement. You seriously contemplated just passing out instead of giving in, but eventually let your breath out, making sure to remain quiet. “Your heartbeat is fast.” He mimicked his sister’s words and you could see the shit-eating grin he wore in the corner of your eye. You heartbeat was, in fact, fast. Fast enough that you briefly worried the others might be able to hear it.

“Do I still make you sick?” He breath fanned across your neck, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood suddenly, nearly knocking the boy out. Everyone’s heads snapped toward you, looking concerned.

“I’m actually not feeling well.” Your words rushed out quickly, not even bothering to wait for any response before you turned and walked as quickly as possible away from the group. It took everything you had not to break into a sprint.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself, rapidly trying to process what had just happened.

Kiri found you sitting on one of the giant mangrove roots that was tucked out of sight from the village. It had only been a few minutes since you had rushed away, and part of you wanted to tell her to leave you alone for a while longer. However, when she sat down next to you, it was a welcome comfort.

“What happened?” She questioned, searching your eyes as if they could tell her the answer. You just shook your head, attempting to clear it before you spoke.

“Something is wrong with me, Ki.”

“What do you mean?” She had a way about her that made you feel entirely safe to say anything you wanted without fear of judgement. Kiri was not usually so empathetic, but the two of you had a deeper understanding of one another. So, you explained everything to her. How you despised Ao’nung and his arrogant remarks. How much it frustrated you that you didn’t have a good reason for hating him. And of course how odd he made you feel when he looked at you or touched you.

“So what I’m hearing is that he’s touching you without your consent?” Kiri finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had set in after your explanation. You snorted at her fake serious face, already feeling a little better.

“If he was, he wouldn’t have arms anymore, probably courtesy of you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam.” You chuckled, imagining how that would play out. “No, I mean, I think what bugs me about when he does that is that I actually don’t… hate it?” The last words felt sour on your tongue, making you regret them almost instantly. Thankfully, Kiri had the courtesy not to laugh at you.

“So you like him, then?” She asked and you whipped your head back to stare at her.

“No, of course not! I’m just not used to male attention like that. He’s using it against me because he thinks it’s funny. He’s arrogant, and stupid, and I would honestly rather eat sand than talk to him longer than five seconds.” You finished, hoping you got your point across well enough. You couldn’t tell if Kiri was buying it, but everything you said was true. That boy was a pain in the ass.

A few weeks later, you and Kiri were using your free time to mess around on the beach. Things between you and Ao’nung changed since that day during breathing lessons. You had decided to stop acknowledging him and his goading remarks, to his chagrin. When he would make a snide comment you would either ignore it or respond civilly, clearly frustrating the boy. In response, he had become crueler and crueler. At this point, he was a terror, someone to avoid at all costs.

This sentiment ran through your head as you looked up and saw Ao’nung and his terrible friends approaching your twin, who was blissfully unaware as she stared down at the sand under the water. Feeling protective, you quickly made your way over, trying to hear what they were saying.

“She’s just looking at the sand.” One of them remarked, followed by a few barking laughs. Before you could make it all the way over, Kiri seemed to notice them standing above her and started to stand too.

“Hm? What’d you say?”

“Are you some kind of… freak?” Ao’nung questioned, deliberately flicking his gaze up to lock with yours as you came to stand beside Kiri. There was a pause before Kiri sighed and began to walk away, you in tow.

“No.” She said, looking at the ground. Your fists clenched.

“Are you sure?” He taunted, clearly not content to let the two of you off so easily.

“She said no, dipshit.” You couldn’t hold back, replying in your usual manner for the first time in weeks. Something flickered in Ao’nung’s eyes and his smirk widened. He suddenly reached forward, trying to grab your hand.

“You’re not even real Na’vi. Look at these hands.” He managed to grasp onto your wrist, pulling it towards him in a surprisingly gentle manner. His tone didn’t match. “I mean, look at them!”

“Hey!” Lo’ak appeared from the trees behind you, looking pissed. “Back off, fish lips.” Ao’nung grinned, releasing his grip on you. A ring of fire blazed along your wrist and you tried to shake it off, annoyed that he still had that affect on you.

“Oh, another four-fingered freak!” Ao’nung exclaimed, laughing as he and his friends continued to mess with Lo’ak.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri said forcefully, eyes darting nervously between Lo’ak and the other boys. Thankfully, Neteyam came stalking over, shoving Ao’nung away from the three of you.

“You heard what she said. Leave them alone.” His voice was calm, demanding. Pride swelled in your chest at your older brother, always the protector and mediator. One of Ao’nung’s friends tried to step in, but Ao’nung pushed him back, clearly trying his best to look like he wasn’t afraid of Neteyam. “Back off, now.”

There was a stretch of tense silence before Ao’nung finally took a step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Smart choice,” Neteyam said. “And from now on, I need you to respect my sisters.” A few of them hissed at his words, but allowed you all to turn and start walking away. Before you followed, you stuck your tongue out at Ao’nung, earning a scoff and a glare from him. You knew it was childish, but you couldn’t help it. After all, you had been civil for over a week, which was torture.

As you walked off, you could hear the boys giggling and continuing to talk shit. Beside you, Lo’ak paused, deciding to turn back around.

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam hissed, but it was too late.

“I got this, bro.” Lo’ak held his hand up, slowly making his way back to face Ao’nung. “I know this hand is funny,” He wiggled his pinky. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien.” The boys snickered. “But, it can do something really cool.” Lo’ak continued talking, but you mentally groaned, knowing where this was going. Before you could say anything, Lo’ak had punched Ao’nung, hard. “It’s called a punch, bitch! Don’t ever touch my sister again!”

Next thing you knew, Ao’nung was tackling Lo’ak to the ground, his friends joining in on what you were starting to think was going to be the beat down of the century. You and Kiri shared a look as Neteyam scratched his head, resigning himself to joining the fight.

“Stop it, stop!” Kiri called, exasperated.

“This is so stupid,” You muttered, growing a little worried as you watched your brothers in the outnumbered fight. Gathering your courage, you decided to step in when Lo’ak started getting hit a little too hard in your opinion. “Can you guys just stop before someone gets seriously-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before you got an elbow to the cheek from one of the guys punching Lo’ak. It was obviously not on purpose, but everyone stopped, silent for a moment as you hissed in pain, frowning.

“Okay that’s it-” Lo’ak was about to go in for another punch before you aggressively tugged him away.

“No! No more fighting!” You barked, marching Lo’ak steadily away. “Stupid boys acting like stupid mongrels. I can’t believe I just watched you all be so stupid, and for what?” You muttered angrily, mostly to yourself.

As you and your siblings walked away for good this time, you glanced back at the Metkayina boys. You thought maybe they would be laughing, but to your surprise, Ao’nung appeared to be scolding the boy who had accidentally hit you. You stared for a little too long because Ao’nung seemed to feel your gaze and looked up, meeting your eyes. It was unsettling to see his usual smirk replaced with worry.

taglist:

@luvlykrispy @foreverfolkloregirly @findingourtreasure @tiddybiddy @nao-cchi @goodiesinthecloset21 @elegantkidfansoul @azaleaniath @cloakedvengeance

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Okay, this is probably the only au for X-Men Evolution I'll make that isn't a reboot/reimagining. This idea, which I'm sure plenty of people have had, is this:

What if someone from our world/a darker version of our world ended up in the show?

Somehow the reader, who is from what I will call Earth 2020, ends up in X-Men Evolution, possibly dying on Earth 2020 and somehow being dropped into the series proper. And for the reader, they're a mix of emotions, but one stands out the most: Sheer, utter PANIC. They're likely dead, aren't anywhere they've been before, don't have any papers or documents, and are in a world set in 2000 where superpowers are real and adults try to kill kids on a near daily basis. Bby is going through a panic attack as they check what's with them, finding that the good news is they had all their saved money with them in their satchel, but nothing else of much use besides a calligraphy pen, pepper spray, and a ticket with a date that hasn't even happened in this world.

Reader knows they could try to get involved, could pretty much do whatever they wanted, help or hurt or anything they want with the knowledge they have... But... they'd rather do the right thing. They compile notes, writing down every major event of the series for both the X-Men and Brotherhood, warning them about things like Apocalypse, Sentinels, Hydra, Weapon X being back in commission, pointing out the things that should be avoided, such as brainwashing your daughter, tossing children off of cliffs, threatening a bunch of teenagers, manipulating everyone, etc. ... but reader also mentions ways they can change the worst of it from happening and begging them to help Laura and the Morlocks. And then adds final notes, the bad things that could happen throughout the next twenty years, from 9/11, the wars in Europe and the Middle East, the pandemic of Covid, the wildfires in North America and Australia, terrorist attacks in different parts of the globe, tsunamis and hurricanes and tornadoes, pretty much every disaster, they list it, when it was supposed to happen, and pleads to stop it, or alert someone who could... By the time reader is done writing down every disaster and crisis that they remember, they have piles of notes, even some with theories. And finally, the reader sends the notes, praying for the best. Then they promptly go to hide out in some small town far away from everything, because they fear what happens if someone finds out how they know everything and where they're from... If it doesn't end well for other people, who's to say it would end well for reader?

The X-Men and Brotherhood get the notes, and are more or less shocked, because what they have is about twenty years worth of disasters listed, with notes about what specifically happens regarding them. But, for some reason, they decide to listen, wondering if perhaps the writer of the notes was like Destiny, a mutant who could see the future... And somehow, things go better. Less tossing kids around and off of things, helping the Morlocks find a safer place to live, freeing Laura, and destroying the Sentinels before they are finished, it all happens, and everyone is relieved to know that they've avoided whatever was supposed to happen. Yet... where is the person who warned them? So begins the search for reader...

And reader ends up in Bayville, somehow. Apparently they're now in the foster system, developed a mutation (they wonder how that's possible, how would that work, they aren't from that world- ) and so far have been doing their best to get by. It helped that they lived through what was basically a dystopian world, since they know useful tricks for their survival, and with a mutation, hopefully that can keep them alive for just a bit longer.. They end up in the highschool, having to do everything in their power not to feel tense and have a break down. They're in the town where everyone else is in, they only have themself to rely on, and they have too much knowledge of everything around them, plus an ability that could alert others of them. They're glad they helped, elated even, but... anxiety still worms its way inside them. They don't know how to deal with their own thoughts and the world around them, every bit of knowledge sending them spiraling. Because if someone finds out it was them... then what? When do people ever take things like that well, that someone knew, that they're from a whole other world, and that they haven't done much else to do anything? Reader stays alert and tired, but keeps going. Besides all the crushing fear and loneliness, the 2000s are a lot better than 2020: lower cost of living, lower prices on food, less gun violence, less rioting, less noise...

Then, I guess with the help of Caliban or Jean, maybe even Xavier, the reader is discovered. And the two groups have to take a minute. The person who wrote the notes... is some scrawny teenager who trembles whenever someone talks to them, and jumps at the slightest noise? It's confusing. They were expecting someone older, maybe a time traveler, not... whoever this is. And the moment any of them try to approach, the kid just gets wide eyes and tries to get lost, avoiding anyone in the school like the plague. But, they finally are able to corner them and talk... And what they find is... terrifying.

From what they're able to find out from the reader, who's trembling like a leaf and trying not to cry, they're not from around there, they saw things happen, bad things, and thought if they gave a warning, it might help. And what Jean and/or Xavier can read from their mind is downright nightmarish, images of violence and memories of hate, of people hurting them, of destroying others, of a world filled with violence ad wars and plagues running rampant, anything and everything seemingly out to end their survival... Even how they ended up there, a hazy, near-forgotten memory of water and silt in their lungs and the world fading to black, a hand holding forcing them under... And all they can feel for them is sympathy, empathy in some cases, horror at what absolute H*ll they lived through... They offer aid, thanking them for helping them...

And the reader is just... relieved, that no one wants them dead. Hoping that this world truly doesn't want them dead, that they can breathe and not fear for their life...

The characters are glad that the reader is on their side, and isn't some evil genius bent on the destruction of mutants... but it isn't easy to know that the person who helped them lived in a world that sounded and looked like H*ll, and then eventually died, in one of the worst ways to go... And they can't help but feel a little protective of them, a little worried. Sure, their new ally is also a mutant, but they also barely know anything about their powers or how to handle normalcy, used to fighting for themself among peers... Not to mention that their new friend had to explain the reasons they kept a calligraphy pen with them, and the reason scared them, because who knew a fancy ink pen could be so dangerous-

Over time, they all grow to be platonic yandere-ish, if not fully platonic yandere. Reader helped them, it's only fair they repay that kindness. And they don't have to worry about them going back to the h*llscape they called home. It's not like they were going to let them go back, even if they could. Best to not think too deep on leaving, though. They aren't leaving, ever...

(I've been wondering about this idea for awhile now, and I plan to make a playlist for this au, simply because why not? Expect plenty of Panic! At The Disco, and a song from Lemon Demon😊💛🧡)

Bonus:

Reader, staring at the handful of adults for the Brotherhood: For Best Parent of the Brotherhood, at least in the original timeline, I think?, I nominate... Lance

Adults: What? Why him? He's a teenager!

Reader: Well, originally, Mr. Lehnsherr seems to only showed up when he wants something, instead of being there to help his kids, let alone everyone else, and leaves the kids on their own, Mystique had threatened them, left them on their own with no supervision, and tried to toss children off of cliffs, and Mr. Victor doesn't have kids as far as I know, but if he is related to Mr. Logan, I'm not sure he had been a good parent or brother or whatever he is, due to capturing him for the person who put a control chip in his head, and also trying to kill him. So, that leaves the other acolytes. Who are never here. And also tried to kill the kids. Yeah, so, that leaves the actual Broterhood teens. And the only one who has acted anywhere near enough to keeping them alive and taking care of the group's needs is... Lance. So, by default, if not by actual execution, the winner of Best Brotherhood Parent is Lance. Good job👍

Adult Brotherhood Members: Wait, we did WHAT?!

Acolytes: Thank heavens we aren't parents

Erik: I did WHAT to Wanda?!

Mystique: I tricked my own daughter, and lost both her and Kurt?!

...

Victor: Wait, I'm Logan's what now?!

Reader: That might only be a theory, I'm not sure...

One DNA test later...

Test: positive

Victor:😳☹👀

Reader: Well... in my defense, I only thought it was a theory... Um... Should I say sorry, or congratulations?

Extra Bonus:

Reader, presenting each character with a gift: This is hand-made, so I did my best. I'm sorry if you don't like it🎁

Everyone: It can't be that bad opens their gifts

Everyone:

Reader: Do you like it? I'm not the best at this stuff, but, I did read three different books a few months ago... And spent the last three weeks working on these...

Everyone, holding an oddly-made crocheted scarf with their theme/colors: trying not to cry Its... nice puts it on🧣😭

Also them: Don't ever leave, please🥺☹

Reader: Um... I wasn't planning on it

Everyone: Good... because we aren't joking. If you leave, we will find you

Reader, realizing that maybe something might have just changed: Um... that's... sweet... worrying now if they're in danger😟

Everyone: 😊🥰😍💖

[twilightangel83]

A Ghostly Message

October 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around. (Whumptober)

A 1-1.5 on my whump scale (see the series definition for the scale)

It’s never good when an ‘all hands on deck’ call has to go out. It’s even worse when it included even the younger teams. But at least they all knew why they were being called before arriving. It was hard not to know.

Nightwing grimaced to himself as he watched more and more heroes pour into the largest meeting room of the Watchtower. Most looked serious. Many were confused or concerned. Everyone was mulling around, checking what others knew. He couldn’t blame them, the whole situation was a mess, but he didn’t join them. He knew the meeting would start soon.

“Alright.” Batman’s amplified voice cut across the room, drawing conversations to a close as the various heroes turned to look at where he, Superman, and Wondereoman were standing on the elevated stage alongside Constantine and Zatanna (Deadman had elected not to be involved in the presentation for some reason it seemed).

“You all know why we’re here,” Batman continued once the chatter had died down. “Several hours ago a message began broadcasting across all televisions networks and radio frequencies worldwide outside of those being used to help keep people safe. Such as air traffic control and Emergency Services. And this message has been playing on loop since then. Strangely enough, while the message appears to be the same around the globe, everyone who hears it hears it in their own native language. We do not currently understand how that is possible, but we will attempt to figure that out at a later point. For now, to make sure we’re all on the same page we are going to watch the message together. Please do your best to keep quiet while it plays.”

That said, Batman and the others moved off to the side as the screen against the wall lit up. It was static at first, the same kind of static that Nightwing knew played for about ten seconds between each round of recording. But soon enough the static cleared to show a young man that looked maybe twenty at the modest standing against a black stone background. The first thing many would probably notice was that the young man had white hair that almost seemed to defy gravity and lazarus-green eyes. But that would soon be overshadowed by how bad he looked. His skin was deathly pale, there were bags under his eyes, and a number of still-healing wounds could be seen even around the regal-looking robes he was wearing. Distinct, precise-looking wounds. Wounds that had alarm bells ringing in Nightwing’s mind the first time he’d seen them (the bells weren’t gone, just currently on the backburner). Then the man started talking.

Finish reading Here

[yawntutsyip]

“I gave a second chance to cupid”

masterlist | previous part

paring: Ao’nung x Reader (Modern AU + SMAU ish)

summary: On the way to class you receive a text from a random number, saying they knew about your big secret. You had a crush on the one and only Ao’nung. You have no clue who it is, and when asking they refused to tell who they were but promised to help you finally ask him out after admiring him from afar for so long. Who is it? When putting your love life in the hands of a stranger, will it be successful? Or just a big mistake…

authors note: omg ITS FINALLY OUT WOOHOO I’m so excited! I hope this series goes well 😭 and that you guys enjoy it 💗

word count: 2.4k

Cupid Got Me : Chapter One

‘Ring ring ring’

The sound of the school bell reaches your ears, letting everyone know that class is about to start. You take a deep breath in from your nose and let out a sigh as you open up your locker to put your stuff away and grab the necessary books for your first period. History, everyone’s favorite.

As you close your locker, you turn around and your eyes immediately land on the one and only, Ao’nung. He was captain of the basketball team , good looking, had everyone’s eyes on him, he was smart, always getting the top grade in the class. You didn’t realize you were staring for that long until a buzz in your phone caught your attention. You pull it out of your pocket and have a quick look but look back to give Ao’nung one last look but he is already gone.

Another buzz from your phone interrupts you once again, letting out another annoyed sigh. You enter your passcode and check whatever app caused it. ‘text messages?’ Who could be texting you right now? You didn’t really have any friends, your parents were at work, they would’ve called you if anything.

‘Well that’s just great’ you thought as you rubbed your forehead in frustration. You just prayed that whoever this random number was didn’t spread rumors and blackmail you. How did they even figure it out? ‘Were you being obvious?’ So many thoughts stirred in your head as you made your way to class, you entered the classroom and sat at your designated desk. The left corner of the room, last row, in front of the window.

As you sit down you look to the door and see once again, Ao’nung, who was finishing saying bye to a friend before walking inside the classroom. Your eyes follow him as he walks by, he turns his head and sends a friendly wave in your direction causing you to realize you had been staring too hard again. Your cheeks heat up as you send a wave back and quickly look down. A chuckle leaves Ao’nungs lips as he walks past your desk and sits down 3 desks up.

“Okay class, sorry I was a bit late. I got caught up in the teacher's lounge. Today we will be using the textbook so get those out and then go to page 190.” The teacher announced as he walked in, to the desk in front of the class. The sound of pages being flipped fills your ear with various groans and sighs. No one liked this class, history was the worst class ever.

You grab your book and set it on your desk before flipping it to the page and getting comfortable in your seat, the teacher was reading aloud and man did he read at the pace of a sloth. He took nearly 20 minutes to finish one page because he kept getting sidetracked and would start ranting about the most random stuff, at this point everyone already knows not to listen and read it themselves.

An hour goes by as you let out a yawn, the teacher was finally done talking and now everyone was just doing their own thing, some were talking with each other, some were doing homework or work for another class, some were on their phones, and some were reading the book. You were just mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, letting out a quiet laugh once in a while but it got boring quickly so you set your phone down and sat back in your chair observing.

And somehow every time, your eyes never fail to land on Ao’nung. It was as if your eyes were magnetic to him. He was chatting with a kid next to him while, what it looked like, doing some work for another class. How did you even develop a crush on him you may ask?

Well, on the first day of school, the sophomore year you had just transferred from Terra High, a public school to Pandora Academy, a private one. It was a big change. You knew no one there, had no friends, and the school was a lot bigger than your previous ones so you tend to get lost a lot, the school was like a maze.

One of the days you had gotten lost you ended up on the completely opposite side of campus, and in the wrong classroom.

You had walked into the classroom and sat down waiting for the teacher to arrive, and before you knew it, there was a tall, attractive-looking boy in front of you tapping the desk to get your attention. “Hey, this is actually my seat you're sitting in,” he says with an awkward smile that causes your face to explode with blush and you quickly stand up and gather all your things.

“Oh Eywa, I’m so sorry I didn’t know we had assigned seats.” You say embarrassed, you place all your books and pencils on the desk next to him and go to sit down. “Oh…that seat is also taken…say, are you new? I haven’t seen you around before” He speaks up and laughs as you bite your lip and once again gather your things. “Yeah…today is my first day I just moved…uhm where is an open desk?”

“The one behind me is open you can sit there haha, where did you transfer from?” Ao’nung says while setting his stuff down and taking a seat before turning back to look at you as you sit down as well. “I moved here from Terra High..” you muttered shyly as you brushed your hair out of your face and looked at the book on your desk.

“Oh wow, That’s across the whole town…what made you move here?! Also, public school huh- that must be weird being here huh” he smiles at you and begins to admire your face as you talk to him, not noticing his eyes running all over your face taking in every detail. “My father had gotten a job here actually, he’s the second coach for the basketball team. I guess the old coach retired and they had an opening so he took it” his eyes widened. “Oh, no kidding! I'm actually on the basketball team, I’m the captain. So I guess I’ll be seeing your dad later” Ao’nung laughs with you as you guys continue to make conversation.

Soon enough the teacher walks in causing everyone to stop talking and sit forward including Ao’nung. “Hello class, welcome back from break. How was everyone’s time?!” The teacher asked the students and everyone started blabbering our random things and what they did over the break. You could tell the students were close with their teachers here. “Alright. Let me take attendance and we can start our first lesson. Lucas?” “Here!” “Anna?” “Present!” “Luna?” “Yea, I’m here” The teacher continues to go down the list of names, listening for a response, every name except yours was called.

“Is there anyone’s name that I didn’t call?” He asks while lifting his eyes from the paper he's holding in his hand. “Uhm..me sir!” You called out to him quietly but it didn’t seem that he heard you. “Mr. Lopez, her name wasn’t called,” Ao’nung told the teacher loud enough this time to get his attention. “Oh? What is your name?” He asks and now everyone’s eyes were on you, that very moment made you want to shrivel up and disappear.

“(Y/N)….(L/N)” the teacher nods his head and double checks the list, muttering your name under his breath as he searches. “I’m sorry, I don’t see your name, my dear. Are you positive you're in the right class?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you grab the paper that had your schedule on it and look at the name of your first period. “This is English right?”

Laughter fills the classroom, the teacher laughs and smiles walking up to your desk before holding his hand out. “May I?” You nod your head and hand them the paper. “My dear, this is not English. This is AP pre-calculus…you have your directions mixed up. The English classrooms are on the other side of the campus.” You wanted to die. Your first day and you already embarrassed yourself and now you were gonna be late on top of that?!, Eywa what did you do to deserve this?

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your teacher will understand. This school is huge so it’s expected for new students to get lost here and there. Let me go write you a slip, Ao’nung since I know you're a good student would you mind taking Ms. (L/N) to her room? It’s class 8 in the V building.” The teacher says and walks back to his desk to write you a late pass and a note for your teacher letting them know what happened. “Yeah, of course, I’ll gladly do so.”

You stand up from your chair and gather your stuff quickly, shoving everything in your backpack not even caring at this point if your papers or books got crumpled. You just wanted to get out of there and fast. “This is so embarrassing…” you whispered under your breath as you swung your backpack’s strap over your shoulder and walked up to the front of the class to the teacher's desk, grabbing the paper with a thank you.

“It was nice to meet you Ms. (L/N). Welcome to our school. I hope you’ll enjoy your time. Maybe in the future, I’ll have you in my class.” You only nodded your head giving him a smile in return and turned around, heading toward the door where Ao’nung was standing, waiting. “Let’s get going!” He says and leads the way out. Both of you walk side by side, you keeping your head down looking at the floor still embarrassed.

“Hey, don't sweat about it. Lots of kids lose their way around here more often than you think so don't worry” Ao’nung says trying to comfort you. “I’m Ao’nung by the way. It's nice to meet you” you lift your head and look at him, seeing he had already been doing the same. “It’s nice to meet you Ao’nung, My name (is Y/N).” He nods his head.

“Like Mr. Lopez said earlier. I hope you like it here, our school is fairly decent with how the students are. The majority of them are quite nice so it’s easy to make friends. We also have many clubs to join as well. If you're into cheerleading, they just opened a couple of spots.”

Your smile turns into a disgusted frown as you shake your head. “Not your thing huh?” Ao’nung says and laughs at the expression you made. “Not at all, not that I have anything against cheer, it's just that I’m far too lazy and it’s too much attention, I get nervous.” You say awkwardly and scratch your cheek. “No no I understand, personally I wouldn't cheer either, not my style~” he jokes, causing you to snicker. “You don’t say huh”

After a little bit more walking you guys finally arrived at the class, Ao’nung holds the door open for you and gestures forward. “After you” you thank him and walk in, the teacher stops what he was reading and looks at the both of you. “Hello, may I help you two?” “I am the new student. I accidentally went to a different class.”

The teacher laughs and nods his head taking the paper you had handed out to him. “I understand don’t worry, your name is (Y/N) correct?” He asks while reading the note quickly before tossing it in the garbage. After he got the confirmation when you nodded your head he began to speak again. “Well welcome to our school. I am Mr. Yang. We were just in the middle of reading the first chapter of our new book we’re gonna be starting so here’s that” He says and hands you an extra copy of the book that was sitting on his desk, then he looks to the sea of desks.

“Hmm, you can sit in the back at that empty desk by Rotxo, Rotxo may you please raise your hand” You look at the back and see a boy with curly hair waving his hand with a big smile. “Hi, I’m right here!” Before sitting down you turn to Ao’nung who was still standing by the door. “Thank you for walking me to my class, I’m sorry for making you miss yours.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, it was no problem. If you need help finding your classes again don’t be afraid to ask. See you around!…also Rotxo is super nice I promise, he’s my best friend so I should know” Ao’nung says while waving to Rotxo who had called his name from the back, and finally takes his leave. You say bye and walk past the desks in the front to the back next to Rotxo and take your seat as the teacher begins reading where he left off. “Hi! I’m Rotxo! Welcome to our school!” After you get your notebooks and pencils out you go to the boy and smile “Hello, I’m (Y/N).”

From that day on. You never really saw Ao’nung that much sadly, unless he was walking in the halls. Both of you would exchange waves and smiles before going wherever. You were too shy to go up to him and talk so you just sat back and observed next thing you knew you were a senior, and still had yet to talk to him and managed to develop a crush. Pathetic.

“Alright, class! We have 15 minutes left, Please review the paper I handed out to you, and make sure you have answered all of the questions before turning them in” Your teacher speaks up causing you to snap out of your daydream. You feel something thrown against your head, it wasn’t hard but it was enough to get your attention. Your eyes furrow as you see a piece of paper land on your desk. ‘Who the hell?’ You look up and look at everyone, trying to figure out who threw it but you had no luck. You roll your eyes and turn around to look at the crumpled paper. You pick it up and unravel it, eyes widening as you read the words written in cursive.

“Your staring at him, it’s almost as if your trying to be obvious about it”

You freeze and feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Who the hell was this person, how do they know? You grumbled and crumpled the paper back up in annoyance. You were gonna figure out who this was, you don’t know how yet, but you were determined.

tag list: @gender3nvyy @eywas-heir @kenzi-woycehoski @ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @definitelynot-here @buckyb4rnes @jakesully-sbabygirl @iikatsukii @aerangi @itzjustm3 @fukingsad @purennn @youngpoetrychopshop @ash-mcj @azaleaniath @avatarlover21 @grierpilots @aonungmyaddiction @8resa @purplepursepaint @lagoonabluebabe @goldeneywa @seashelldom @urlocalkeemawearingartist @rotxo-shawty @renluv

—

[wishfulwithwine]

Eye of His Storm - Chapter Four

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Fem!Reader

She was the pure beauty of Targaryens and Velaryons, only daughter of Rhaenyra and Leaner Velaryon, second child. 

He was the scarred, menacing son of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower. 

They put together the broken pieces of their lives, and made each other whole. 

Warning: series will have INCEST, cursing, smut, violence, ptsd, alcohol and other possible triggers. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR. 18+ ONLY. 

Photo is from Pinterest

“You nervous about the wedding night? You don’t need another lesson before tonight, do you?” Aegon teased, watching as his younger brother paced next to him. 

Whipping his head, Aemond glared at him, before shaking his head with a sigh, looking around at the grand hall. Everyone was gathered around, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to walk down the aisle in whatever gown Alicent and Rhaenyra had managed to get her in such short notice. The hall was decorated as much as it could in the short time, and Aemond noticed the flowers he had described, as well as ribbons of both their house colors. 

Honestly, Aemond could take the teasing remarks today, as long as Aegon was sober enough to not be an embarrassment. Aemond was not necessarily one for attention, but today - today was the day he was dreaming about since Y/N were born. 

Today was the most important day of his life - rivaling that of the day Aemond claimed Vhagar, and lost his eye. 

“No, just ready to start” Aemond stated, looking around for any sign that the ceremony would be starting soon. Everyone was seated, with some light music playing in the background. The hall was packed, despite it being such a last minute affair, but people did what they could to make it here for the “wedding of the century”. 

The wedding would be a combination of values from the Seven as well as Old Valyria - a compromise of both Alicent and Rhaenyra. Daemon would be walking Y/N down the aisle, they’d exchange cloaks, exchange vows and rings, and then the blood ritual, before the celebratory dinner.

Aemond had held in his chuckle at Daemon being the one to walk Y/N down the aisle. He knew how much his uncle hated him, but the similarities were obvious between the pair, as his mother liked to occasionally point out. 

“I’m honestly surprised, you’re usually the patient one. Am I rubbing off on you, brother?” Aegon asked, smirking. Aemond rolled his eyes, praying to whatever god to hurry everyone up so he could get married sooner and stop listening to his brother’s antics.

“I’ve wanted to marry Y/N since I’ve met her” Aemond said, thoughtfully. Aegon rolled his eyes, slouching back in his stance. His brother had gotten too serious for him, and reminded him of the ridiculousness of his own marriage - to his sister, that he’d rather fuck anyone else besides her. 

Then, all eyes diverted to the large doors, as they opened fully and Y/N and Daemon began walking towards the front. There was a collective gasp amongst the crowd, as everyone took in the beauty of Y/N and her gown.

It was a slim, beaded gown with a large necklace collar. The dress was untraditional, but beautiful. Alicent and Rhaenyra had worked hard to find a dress that would fit Y/N in such a short time, and this had to be altered to fit her. Although not a large dress that was expected of in a Targaryen or Royal wedding, it looked remarkable on her. The cloak of Velaryon hung heavy on her shoulders, in contrast to the silkiness of her dress.

By the time Y/N reached the altar, Aemond’s vision was focused solely on her. He couldn’t peel his eyes off of her for anything.

Daemon glared at the boy, but also couldn’t help but find himself comparing, as Aemond had succeeded exactly what he wanted to, and made the opportunity to grab it. Daemon had to wait years and finished marriages to marry Rhaenyra.

Y/N blushed under the blazing stare of Aemond, feeling the fire in his eyes as warmth spread throughout her body. She bit her lip, trying to keep her composure as they stood in their assigned places.

The ceremony felt like a daze, as cloaks were exchanged, the vows were recited, and the blood ritual was completed. Everyone watched in amazement as the ceremony went as smoothly as possible, with everyone’s undivided attention on the couple. Remarkably, Aegon nor Lucerys succeeded in disrupting the wedding, albeit the latter had a scowl on his face and had to be held onto tightly by Rhaenyra to ensure a peaceful ceremony. 

A buzzing feeling throbbed between the couple, especially Y/N, who did her best to play into the act everyone wanted to see. Her body felt like it was burning from the inside out, in an addictive passionate flame that she only felt when imagining Aemond late at night after a few glasses of wine. 

Aemond’s eyes never left Y/N - if they weren’t locked on her eyes, it was her body, and how the dress fit her body like a glove. His thoughts were anticipating later tonight, when he could be with her, alone and without the constructs of their clothes. Bodies melting together, touching in a haze of ecstasy. He would finally get to taste her lips, her skin, her nectar. 

Those thoughts propelled the ending kiss of the ceremony, causing a collective gasp from everyone watching. The kiss of Aemond’s lips, sealing their bond, was gentle on Y/N’s end, but his grab of the back of her neck was his claim of possession. His grip wasn’t hurtful, but forceful enough that everyone could see the power of Aemond. It was a full display of property - Y/N was fully Aemond’s, and no one could do anything about it. 

When he let go, and their mouths parted, Y/N was a bit shocked, although she shouldn’t have been surprised. She felt flustered and hot, as that sort of affection was more suited for behind close doors. 

Most of the audience - especially the families - seemed to glare at Aemond for his show of possession, but Aegon clapped his hands like a fool, before everyone made their way for the dinner portion of the night. Aemond didn’t acknowledge or look at anyone else, however, besides Y/N as he led her out of the grand hall to where the feast would be.

He kept her tightly pulled into his waist, after they arrived at the grand hall, as Y/N greeted guests politely while Aemond just stared, wishing all the formalities could be over with so he could be alone with his wife. 

Y/N was his- his wife, lover, eventually the mother to his children. Finally, she was his.

By the time they sat down and began dinner, Aemond moved their chairs so that they’d be as close as physically possible. Y/N wasn’t surprised when he kept his hand on her leg the entirety of the dinner. He made sure her cup was always full of wine, and whatever she wanted for food was readily available for her. 

His actions seemed to be scrutinized by everyone, watched with a variety of emotions. 

Aegon rolled his eyes, watching his brother be so possessive over Y/N. He could understand how Aemond was so captivated by her beauty, but to be so claiming of her, Aegon couldn’t fathom. He liked his freedom of women, never one to just settle with one… especially if he had never slept with her before. 

Alicent watched her son carefully. She was worried about his possessive and passionate nature, but he seemed to be doting on Y/N rather than being forceful. She watched as Y/N smiled softly at Aemond when he cut up her food for her, the recognizable look of love that was in her eyes as Y/N gazed back at him. Alicent never knew true love herself, but had seen it on other’s enough to know that Y/N was truly happy with him, and thus there was no need to be worried, for now. 

Rhaenyra saw the similarities of Aemond and her own husband Daemon, although Aemond seemed to be a bit more possessive. Her husband and her daughter’s husband were both passionate people with a flare for the dramatic. Although this marriage was a deal to squash the childish antics of last night’s fight, Rhaenyra could see the care that Aemond had for her. 

At her side, however, Daemon was glaring at Aemond, knowing the cruel side of the dramatics Aemond could reach. He saw the dark glint in Aemond’s eyes when he had cut off Lord Corlys’ head, and worried in his gut for the girl, who to his knowledge, had no idea what was in store for her marriage.

Her siblings, especially Lucerys, were annoyed that Aemond was marrying Y/N. A man undeserving of even love was able to marry Y/N, someone who was always kind to them despite the circumstances. Someone so beautiful had to marry someone so…horrendous. Lucerys was fuming, wishing to do anything in retaliation, but then Jacaerys reminded him of how the marriage came to be in the first place, and Lucerys stopped his plans.

Baela and Rhaena watch curiously. They did not like Aemond, tainted in their views from him stealing their mother’s dragon and Jace and Luke’s perspective, however they also captured the love he seemed to show for Y/N. He couldn’t be totally bad if he treated Y/N like a queen, right?

Princess Rhaenys was concerned about what would happen with Driftmark, but saw how Aemond idolized Y/N. She hoped he would be a similar character to Daemon, supporting his wife. Rhaenys knew Y/N could stand on her own, and Aemond would be a threatening factor to any who opposed her rule. Maybe this would work out in Driftmark’s favor.

The King, who was in a bit of a haze, was overjoyed at Aemond’s actions towards Y/N. So much so, that he stood, surprising the crowd, for a big toast to the newlyweds.

“Thank you all for coming for the wedding of my son Aemond, and granddaughter, Y/N. I can see the love between them, and am happy to see the joining of two incredible people” He said, coughing, which brought many eyes to him in worry for his condition. “Let’s all raise a cup to the newlywed couple, to love and life” He said, raising his cup with a shaking hand. Aemond and Y/N looked to each other as they clinked their cups together. 

It wasn’t long after a few dances that Aemond had lost his patience, seeing an opportunity to leave, and swiftly led Y/N out of the grand hall. Y/N had managed to say some goodbyes, making sure to leave on good terms with her family, before she allowed herself to be all but dragged by Aemond to their bedroom. 

“No, I’ve got it” Aemond stated, as your maid’s eyes widened in shock when she went to undress you. You put on a smile, trying to calm her from Aemond’s brash emotions. 

“It’s alright, thank you” You said, and your maid smiled softly at you, before leaving quickly.

There was silence as you began taking your hair out of the clips, your feet out of your shoes, and taking the crown off of your head. The pressure of the night to come was making your thoughts seem heavy. 

“May I?” Aemond asked, softly, as you felt him behind you, his breath hot on your neck. You nodded, feeling his hands on your back, unlacing your dress. As more skin was revealed to him, he began kissing the new areas, taking in your appearance. 

When it was fully off, and you only had your slip and undergarments, Aemond had to step back and look at you. A deep flush appeared at your cheeks, as he circled around you like a predator. His face was hungry, jaw tight as his pupils darkened with lust.

“You’re so beautiful” He groaned, as he came up to you, putting his hands on your waist as he walked you back to the bed. When you sat on it, he began removing his own clothes. You watched as he took off his top layers, exposing his pale beautiful skin. You had only seen him with this amount of clothing maybe as a child, but now, he was a man. 

A man with toned abs and corded muscles, a gaze swarming with heat as you felt heat swirling in your body, especially when he stood fully naked in front of you. His member was red and weeping, long and thick as it slapped against his abdomen when he released it from his trousers.

Aemond drank in your emotions like a starved man. The gasp that escaped those plump lips, the redness tinting your cheeks, your doe eyes wide with innocence, but he also noticed you weren’t scared, just surprised. Aemond leaned closer, keeping eye contact as he kneeled before you, watching your chest rise and fall with deep breaths, as his hands trailed up your legs, moving the skirt of your slip up so the apex of your legs was revealed. You stood slightly to get the slip fully off of you, and you watched how Aemond’s eyes stared at your fully nude body.

You could see the dragon in his eyes, burning your body with his gaze.

“I love you” Aemond said, as he stood up, standing in between your legs to part them. One hand went to your hip while the other cusped your cheek gently, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry passion. You responded, not knowing what to do with your hands but put your hands cusping his face.

He put both hands on your face, moving you upwards on the bed so he could kneel on the bed, still between your legs. Aemond pulled away from your lips, looking down at your naked body beneath him, taking in every detail of your body. Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest, as he positioned himself aligned with your core. 

You gripped onto the sheets around you, nervously anticipating the pain that was described to you by some of the maids. He nudged the tip in, switching his gaze between your face and where you two were now connected. 

He let out a deep groan, as he felt your walls squeezing his tip, before looking at your face, your teeth biting your lip as you looked nervously at him. 

“It’ll feel better, I promise” He said, as he leaned closer to you, putting his lips on yours, hoping to distract from the pain as he pushed another inch before waiting a couple of seconds. You were squirming beneath him in pain, and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he continued to do that until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Worried about how you were doing, as you were now too much in pain to kiss him back, he pressed his lips to your nipple, reminding himself of Aegon’s words how some women would get off on just nipple action. 

His tongue flicked and swirled around your nipple, as one hand went to knead your other breast. He felt you get wetter around his cock, your back rising as he began to gently thrust shallow inside of you. 

When you let out a moan, he couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face, as he leaned back to see your face glowing with pleasure. Your back was arching, so your torso pressed up into his, and he moved his hands to your hips, as he thrusted deeper and faster into you. Your hands came to his back, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks, as you held on while Aemond thrust into you like a man possessed - which he definitely felt like with your pussy clenching him so hard.

Adjusting your legs higher on his hips, he moved a hand to rub his fingers on your clit. Your moans and breathy whimpers stirred him on, as the coil inside you was binding tighter and tighter inside of you.

“That’s it, so good for me” He moaned, as you clenched down hard on him, your orgasm washing over you, and he came to, working through you both through your orgasms. 

“My little dragon” He cooed, kissing your lips as he pulled out of you, before holding you tightly to his chest as he lay down next to you. “My wife” 

You looked at him, face flushed, as you calmed your breathing.

“My husband” You replied, kissing him, as soft smiles were on both of your faces.

Taglist:

@dark-night-sky-99 @neenieweenie @azaleapotterblack @queenofshinigamis @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @hydrationqueensworld  @kitten480 @percyjaskonspeen @shiranai-atsune @literishdegree99 @alexandra-001 @sunmoon-01​ @fall-myriad​  @snh96 

[entomolog-t]

INSTAЯ (4)

Technically a SUPER late promtober prompt (Puzzle)

Thank you to everyone who's been asking about INSTAЯ! As a lil treat I thought I'd post this before coming off of my writing hiatus.

Also HUGE thank you to @imber-rose for their AMAZING FANART of Bram and Honey???? I am SO FLATTERED???💕

I give you - charades, anxiety, and the magical art of tidying up.

This chapter deals with the unforseen messes left in the wake of sci-fi mishaps (both literal and mental) so please take a peak at the content warnings.

Taglist: @imber-rose

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

Word count: 4230

CW: Gore (descriptions of viscera and butchering), mild body horror, mild panic/anxiety, vague dehumanization, Adult language.

Almost as quickly as the panic had come- it was gone. He’d gone silent in my grasp, having slumped to the floor, leaning with his back against the palm of my hand- still draped loosely around him. He never once looked toward me- instead he stared blankly forward, mind clearly elsewhere as his …mouthparts and antennae twitched with some sort of agitation. 

Without warning, his tiny frame jerks upright, shoving himself out from the tangle of my hands and making long strides towards the notepad, chittering to himself as he paced. His gaze flicks to me briefly, before all too quickly turning away. Hefting up the pen, he leans it against his shoulder- both sets of arms working to stabilize the awkward writing utensil in his grip. 

H…I…D…E

My stomach drops- the hastily scrawled word sending a chill through my spine. Before I can question the message, he clicks, drawing my attention back to him. He points to the word, then to himself, before clasping his hands together, as if… praying? No- begging. 

“Hide you…” My voice is almost a whisper, “From what? Where? I- I don’t- What’s going on?” I can feel my voice raising as I flood him with questions, as if some mental dam had burst. Though, much to my frustration, he holds up a hand, a sharp series of distinctly aggravated clicks interrupting me. Shushing me. He shakes his head- dismissing my questions. Instead, he points to the pile of the discarded exoskeleton in the kitchen, then toward the direction of the living room. Before I’m able to ask for clarification, he resumes writing. 

B...U…R…N

A dryness fills my mouth. I swallow. A single word forms in my mouth,

“W-why?”

Each letter feels as though it takes an eternity to take shape as he struggles with the pen. Dan? Dang?? My face falls, realization hitting me. 

D… A…N…G…E…R

As he finishes the last letter, he turns, pointing the pen towards me. 

“M-me?” I stare at him, stunned- unsure of what to say, “N-no, I - I’m not-”

He huffs- handing off the pen to his lower set of arms as he dramatically gestures with his primary pair. Arms outstretched towards me he makes a loose fist with one hand, and with the other he shoves his fingers into the first in an almost crude gesture. He does the gesture again, this time even more exaggerated, fingers making an arching path towards his fist. 

“Inside?” He shakes his head, chittering with annoyance. He teeters a hand back and forth making a so-so gesture before pointing to me, replicating the unknown sign and then pointing back to danger.

“I.. I’m… in-” All at once it clicks- my heart stopping in my chest with the realization, “I’m in danger.”

He nods vigorously. I swallow the quickly building feeling of unease in attempt to squeeze out simple yet poignant question;

“From… you…?”

He hesitates for an uncomfortable moment before bobbing his head side to side, repeating the so-so gesture. A knot tightens in my stomach, a feeling of unease twisting and snaking in my gut as if my insides had been turned to eels desperate to escape the confines of my body.

“From that??” My heart races as I point to the remnants of his shed exoskeleton. Was it toxic? I touched it- Honey had chewed on it - 

He shakes his head.

He points to me, and as if on cue I echo the verbal component to the sign.

“I…”

He points to his head. 

“Head?... Brain? Think-”  He abruptly holds up his hands, halting me from continuing guessing.

“I think…” Nodding, he then points to himself, then to danger.

“I think you danger?” My brows knit together in confusion at the stunted sentence. He repeats the gestures, this time adding a long pause before pointing to danger. 

“I think you; Danger?” Even though he nods, I feel lost. Was I supposed to follow? He repeats the sign for think, followed by slowly pinching his finger and thumb together, then giving me a thumbs up. 

“Think small.. Good” I say almost to myself, before attempting to somewhat correct the sentence, “Think little; good.”

I think you; danger. Think little… good??

What the Hell was that supposed to mean? 

I mull over the words, trying to make sense of them. 

I think about you, danger- think less is good… dangerous to think? Dangerous to know..? 

I freeze- the garbled sentence suddenly seeming to click. A much clearer phrase reinterpreting and replacing the stunted translation of his signs.

“It's dangerous to know too much. The less I know the better?”

He claps his hands together, giving me a ridiculous four thumbs up. He drops his hands, looking away for a moment before seemingly reconsidering. He holds up a single closed first, slowly raising his fingers one at a time until he reaches four, before pointing to his wrist as if asking for the time. 

I smile, a weird sense of pride bubbling up as I feel myself starting to get the hang of this strange guessing game.

“For now.”  He nods, and I continue, “Can I at least know your name?”

He looks startled at the question- his tail swishing back and forth as he considers. With the unwieldy pen in hands, one at a time he points to a handful of letters he’s already drawn out;

B… R… A… M

“I can’t say it’s been nice to meet you, Bram.” I say with an awkward chuckle. My chuckle turns to a genuine laugh as one of Bram’s many hands flips me off, the casual human-ness of the gesture looking almost comical when juxtaposed with his less than human physique. Carefully, I pinch the obscene gesture between my thumb and forefinger, suppressing a cringe at the all too insect-like feel of his appendage. The texture somehow both hard and thin- something between an eggshell and dried leaves.

“Dawn Delacroix” I say, giving his hand a gentle shake, “How can I lend a hand?”

Bram pulls his hand away to immediately begin gesturing again. His gestures are sharp and insistent as he points to the word hide, then himself, before repeating his signs for four and now. 

As soon as I nod, he continues, gesturing to shush, pointing to burn, and once again signing now.

“Burn it now and keep quiet about this - right?” 

Bram chirps, nodding. I nod along. I comprehend the message, yet internally my mind is whirling.

What the fuck was I getting myself into… Hide him?? From what? Why was I burning the…- was I burning evidence??

With a deep inhale, I force the questions to the back of my mind. Just get him out of sight for now. One thing at a time.

I eye the strange little man up and down, shifting my weight from foot to foot.  

“When you say 'hide’ you don’t just mean keeping you in the house, eh?” I note, my brow furrowing, “Like, you want me to hide you like ‘my house is going to get searched’ hide you?”

Slowly, he nods. 

Despite suspecting the answer, I feel the blood drain from my face all the same. Instinctively, I go to chew on my thumb, stopping myself with a grimace before actually biting down.

“Fuck. Okay. Right. This is- It’s fine.” I lie. My mind is a freeway of thoughts rushing past me- and I’m stuck feeling like some poor animal dodging transport trucks.  

Why was he .. like this?

What happened to him?

Why were people after him?

Had he escaped something? Hurt someone?

I had somehow come to have tasked myself with protecting him from some unknown entity without knowing a single thing about the situation. What kind of people pleaser bullshit was this? I was in way over my head. This was dangerous- yet here I was diving in head first.

As I tried to shake the questions from my thoughts, one seemed to stay stuck- as if it had somehow become a permanent fixture in the forefront of my mind;

Should I really be doing this? 

Despite all that I want to tell myself, I know I don’t have an answer. 

Restless, my hand drags along my face and I aggressively rub at my brow as if forcing my face to relax would somehow force me to relax as well. Unsurprisingly, the action is utterly useless. Fuck. What am I doing? What if I’m in trouble? What if I make things worse? How am I supposed- 

There's the sudden sensation of contact- an involuntary shiver shoots down the length of my spine. 

As if pulled back to reality from his touch, my eyes fall onto Bram- one of his tiny hands laid on top of my own. He stood, looking up at me with what I could only assume was concern in the inky black of those far too many eyes. A shudder creeps its way across my neck- feeling all too similar to the sensation of an insect crawling on my skin. His touch made my skin crawl- it was uncanny in far too many ways. So human, yet so …. Not. He himself was too hard, yet his touch too light. It lacked warmth, not in intent, but physically lacked the warmth of human touch. His clawed fingers felt as though a pin was being dragged on my skin, not painful… but catching. 

As if some primordial instinct takes hold I yank my hand back, fingers curling into a fist as if to hide themselves from the unexpected and unsettling contact.

Bram’s antennae fold down, his hand still hanging limply in the air where mine had been not a second ago. The sight of him sends a wave of guilt crashing over me. With a forced smile, I let my hand relax in front of him, awkwardly pretending as if I hadn’t just cringed away from his touch. 

For some reason unbeknownst to me, my mind wanders back to his horrified reaction to his… current state. The way he’d cried into my hand- the feeling of helplessness that washed over me... Being able to do nothing but offer what little comfort I could. My stomach twists as I think of him trying to do the same for me. This had to be horrifying for him… For all my feelings of helplessness, I couldn’t imagine a fraction of the helplessness that he must be going through. 

I exhale. The act seeming to catch him off guard- his antennae shooting up as he regards me.  

Now was not the time to chew on these heavy questions. He needed help, I would figure the rest out later. 

Man, I need a drink- 

As soon as the thought enters my mind it's as if it sets a cascade of dominoes in motion. I’m met with teenage memories of Clyde and his buddies sneaking whatever alcohol they could scavenge into some ridiculous hiding spot he'd jimmy rigged straight into the drywall behind his bed. 

I smile.

That could work…

"Let's get you hidden, Big Man." His eyes narrow at the impromptu nickname, but he keeps his chirps to himself. I move my hand towards him before we both simultaneously pause, likely sharing one very awkward thought;

How was this going to work?

In something weirdly akin to two people trying to walk past one another but unsure of which direction to pick, we both continued in an awkward stop-start motion. 

"Here- uh, just let me-" I slid my hand behind him, scooping him at his knees. Rather than calmly remaining seated, a shrill chirp was all the warning I had before he began scrambling in my grip, his weird insectoid claws gripping into my skin in a way that, while not physically painful, was mentally disturbing. 

"Woah, woah- Bram!" My free hand shoots up to block the edge, as if he were some frightened animal about to jump to "safety." Instead, all four arms latched onto my finger, squeezing with a significant amount of force for his size. My brow furrows as I regard him,

"You good?" 

His head swivels, looking over his shoulder and back at me with a palpable anger in those tiny eyes. He let out a string of strained chirps, and despite not understanding a word he was saying, it didn't take much to understand it was littered with profanity. 

"Not a fan of heights, I'm assuming?" If looks could kill I'd be dead last week. In a gesture that needed no translation, Bram flipped me off.

As he tugged against my finger, I took the hint and curled my grip around him- wincing at the uncanny sensation of him in my grasp. It felt like holding a particularly large and eerily human-shaped beetle. Though, despite my own discomfort, Bram seemed at least somewhat more at ease in the security of a closed fist. 

I took a step. 

Immediately his primary set of arms were once again gripped onto my finger, claws digging into the meat- not enough to break the skin, though I assumed that courtesy was unintentional. At my movement, I heard the telltale jingle of Honey's collar as she padded to my side- clearly excited at the notion of some sort of activity other than gnawing on discarded exoskeleton.

Bram chittered nervously at her approach. I pull him close to me, making sure to hold him out of reach as Honey circles us, tail wagging with excited curiosity.

"Don't worry," I say, trying to put his nerves at ease, "She's a good girl, I promise- just a little excited after… everything." 

Though even as I say that, thoughts of Honey snapping at June bugs fill my mind- the nasty crunch they would make when she eventually caught them seemed to ring in my ears. I swallow dryly. 

Maybe it was best not to leave her unattended with him.

In the least obvious way I can manage, I shoo her away, nudging her with my foot as she circles around me. Honey somewhat acquiesces to my unspoken command, opting instead to trail behind me, still noisy but thankfully not nearly as pushy.

Good enough. The thought feels like the mental equivalent of a sigh. 

As I walk, I can’t help but notice how he flinches with every step, his whole body bracing as though I’d suddenly forget how to carry something. His tail flicks with what little room he has under my snug grasp, yet he remains quiet, eyes glued straight ahead as I make my way to Clyde's old room.

He all but dives off my hand as I move to set him down on the floor beside me, quickly moving himself out of the way as I join him on the floor. A flock of dust bunnies scatter as I reach under the bed, groping around for a solid spot to grip the small section of discreetly altered baseboard.

A smile crosses my face as the "door" swings open- immediately vanishing as my eyes fall on the interior of the wall. My smile is replaced with horror at the sight of empties littering the length of the inner wall- empties undoubtedly left from Clyde's long since passed teenage years. 

"Well look at that! Your room even comes with its own bar." I catch a whiff of the sour smell and grimace. Bram’s inky black eyes glare back at me, and even with his lack of visible sclera, I had no doubt he had rolled his eyes at the remark. 

"I'm sorry-” I chuckle awkwardly, mortified at the sight, “Brothers aren't really known for being the cleanest of creatures." Unable to add anything of note without the aid of the pen and paper, Bram shrugs, offering a half hearted thumbs up in response. His talon-like claws click softly on the wood floor as he moves to investigate his potential temporary residence. 

"You know," I feel a smile tug at the corners of my lips, a small half laugh slipping out at the strange turn of events, "When I first found you this morning I was terrified at the thought of you escaping into my walls."

His antennae perk up, oddly reminiscent of eyebrows raising in shock- or, more likely, offense.  That distinction was made much more clear as he proceeded to flip me off while buzzing angrily, the sound somewhere between a phone vibration and a particularly offended bee. 

His casual demonstration of profanity for some reason or other, put me at ease. I chuckle, the tension leaving my body, if only for a moment.

“I'll be back soon.”

Without further charades, I close the door, sealing Bram inside the wall. Part of me feels a pang of guilt for not thinking to grab some sort of light, but beggars, as well as potential fugitives, can’t be choosers. As I push myself back to a stand- physically feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on me. A nagging urge to stop and critically think about what on Earth had transpired itches at the edge of my mind- yet I refused to scratch. There was a sort of mental momentum I had built up, a series of tasks to complete one after the other, and the knowledge that the moment I stopped to pick apart the situation in its entirety said momentum would send me crashing into reality. 

We can panic about this later. One thing at a time.

One foot in front of the other, I tear myself from the room- away from the strange little man who probably had all the answers, yet none of the words, or willingness, to share them. Honey reluctantly follows, letting out a soft whine in protest the same way she would if I were to take away a toy or an old bone. I grimace at the comparison. 

Yeah, let's not leave her alone with him.

________

I surveyed the sci-fi nightmare my home had become. Kitchen to livingroom, various degrees of carnage were scattered, and worse yet, splattered, around across the floor. With no small effort, I resist the urge to gag. My once beautiful hardwood was littered with discarded… parts of what had apparently once been Bram. The cracked bits of his outer shell, while undeniably gross when I thought too much about it, were not that bad. 

It was the flesh that made my skin crawl. 

I was no stranger to flesh. Hunting had long since suppressed my gag reflex when it came to viscera… and yet that was precisely what made it worse. I knew what it should be. I knew how it should feel… and that knowledge left me deeply aware of just how wrong everything was.

It was the colours that I noticed first.

Some flesh seemed almost normal, save for something uncanny with the degree of saturation, but the more I cleaned, the more oddities I found. Pieces of flesh so deeply red they neared the point of being back. The pieces far too tough, almost solid to the touch. 

Everything was coated in a strange slick opalescent mucous. Everything had this odd iridescent sheen. Though the fluids weren’t limited to the unnatural looking mucus. For a lack of better terminology, there was a general… ooze.  A sickly blend of various fluids; an opaque pale yellow transitioning into some sickly greyish green… and red… so much red the floor looked black until disturbed by my frantic wiping. 

What… what was all this?

What parts of him?

My stomach churned. The shed remains weren’t all just one consistency. There were… shapes in the flesh, lumps in the ooze. Whatever the inconsistencies in the gorey sludge had once been was impossible to tell, the lumps having lost much of their shape as if degraded by something.

My eyes flashed to my gloves- thankfully, still intact. 

I sigh, wincing as I inhale the strange stale smell that had undoubtedly bled into the flooring. It wasn’t particularly foul, in fact, it was almost familiar, which in itself made it far worse-  the smell of raw meat. 

My throat clenches at the thought, and I struggle to suppress the involuntary response to start dry heaving. 

Don’t think. Just clean. 

No different from gutting a deer. 

No difference at all. 

My hands move idly, picking up piece after horrific piece. The pile dwindles, replaced by a collection of dangerously heavy garbage bags in the center of the room, leaving nothing but the slowly congealing ooze to tackle. Armed with a worryingly complex array of disinfectants, I begin working away at the fluids.

My stomach churns as I try desperately to force my brain to think about anything else aside from the liquid carnage I’m sopping up with a month's worth of paper towel. Anything at all. 

Though the ‘anything’ that seems to permeate my mind, while less disgusting, is no less worrisome. 

Just what was happening? My teeth dug into the flesh of my lip as I scrubbed harder, as if the answer lay somewhere under the layers of- 

Was Bram really human? He seemed human... Maybe? His mannerisms were normal enough, save the extra appendages. But if he was human…

Why was he hiding? A distinct anxiety began to swell in my chest, and with it, a much more worrisome question came rising into my throat

Just who was he hiding from? 

…and how long until they got here?

_______

For all my monumental efforts in cleaning, it seemed as though Honey lived to do the opposite. Her fur, once a light golden color, was a horrible mishmash of the various fluids that had been splattered across my floor. Snout to tail she was caked in a thick mucosal slime that had rapidly begun to crust over as it dried, becoming flaky and, ugh, crunchy. 

From behind the filth, Honey stares up at me, her warm brown eyes filled with an innocent pleading as I stare down the nozzle at her- my finger hovering on the trigger. 

She whines softly.

I don't hesitate. 

Without a second thought, I spray her down- holding tight to her collar as she squirms in my grip, the cool spray from the hose apparently far less appealing than the rapidly decaying innards of some sci-fi mishap. I empty a container of dawn dish soap over her as she whines in protest, all the while desperately hoping that if Dawn worked for ducks in oil spills it’d work for dogs in biohazards as well. 

From I could tell, it seemingly had done the trick.

As I finished rinsing her off, Honey finally managed to wriggle free, zipping off to dart around the yard to run off her offense at, God forbid, being clean. 

My eyes hesitantly left her, moving to scan the lengthy driveway. I was almost expecting to see some unmarked government vehicle driving down to come and interrogate me.

How much time did I have before someone showed up? What was I even supposed to say? Hell- what were they going to say? ‘Hey Ma’am, have you seen a strange bug-person-thing in the area?’

A shaky breath blew past my lips as I forced out any hypothetical thoughts. 

We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. 

My eyes flick towards the stack of pallets and scrap wood leaning up against the garage. 

But first we have more important things to burn. 

__________

The warmth of the fire pricks at my skin, or maybe it was the lingering bits of Bram sludge and it's undetermined acidity slowly burning through my skin-

With an exhale, I banish the thought before it can fully form. 

Everything’s fine. Kind of. Not really. I was harboring what was more and more in hindsight seeming like some fugitive alien or awol government experiment within the walls of my home. There was no way this wasn’t some type of felony, right? I was tampering with… evidence? A crime scene? 

What even was this?

I massage the bridge of my nose, my eyes immediately watering at the remaining smell of gasoline on my hands- no other reason. 

The fire continues to blaze on, the occasional pop and hiss emanating from the rapidly shrinking pile of charred remains. Around me, birds sang. I could hear the trill of chickadees and vireos as they hopped along the edge of the treeline. A soft breeze whispers through the foliage, rustling the leaves scattered on the ground. The early morning fog seemed to ease and give way to the everwarming rays of sunshine… 

I took a deep breath. 

Aside from the pungent odor of gasoline, there was a freshness in the air, as there so often was in fall. A crispness to the chill entering my lungs, with the sharp scent of evergreen dancing on each breath. I held out my hands, letting the heat from the fire soak into them.

It was turning out to be a beautiful day- clear skies, with the sun passively warming the October air. The atmosphere seemed to set a precedent. A subtle nod that everything would be okay.

I exhaled. 

Maybe everything really would be fine.

A soft vibration at my side pulls my attention to my phone. 

In my chest, my heart turns to ice- a sinking feeling of dread washing over me as I read the notification. 

Trail Cam Alert: Movement detected by NW BOUNDARY CAM at 8:06 am

[tojisbbygworl]

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader epilogue

Summary: Two anarchists thought one night was all they had. Only one of them accepted it.

Characters: Mentioned-Miguel, Gwen

Featured-Hobie, Miles

Words: 4,090

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Bittersweet, Hurt/Comfort, Hobie needs a hug, Sexually Explicit Thoughts, Mentions of Sex, Yandere if you squint, Doesn’t follow ATSV events, Miles/Gwen 17+, Hobie and You 21+Yearning, The authors barely disguised obsession with Older Brother Hobie/Younger Brother Miles head cannon, Slight OOC

author’s note: the moment y’all have been waiting for, the angsty epilogue and the FINAL part to JFTN. This lil series was very fun to imagine and I’m gonna miss these two, Ik y’all will too.

Okay have fun hope y’all cry!

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

"Come on...come on..." Hobie's tongue rested on his upper lip as he concentrated on finishing his latest project...his own interdimensional watch.

It was easy, really. There's so much tech laying around HQ that Miguel won't notice a couple gadgets missing from his arsenal. Hobie was a master of pick-pocketing and Miguel should know better. In fact, he should have expected this, what with being the leader of an elite group of superpowered geniuses. He bets he's not even the only one who's made their own and everyone else is just keeping it under wraps. Or at least, that what he tried to tell Miles.

"Don't listen to that arse," he had whispered to him upon leaving Miguel's 'lair', as everyone liked to put it. It was the day after their little get together and Hobie's...ahem...escapades. As he had expected, they were caught. It's really all Hobie's fault for staying with Y/N so long, but Miles definitely placed all the blame on himself. Miguel was his usual annoyed and angry self, but since it was directed at them, and Miles was such a people pleaser, he scared him good. Miles looked like a ghost leaving that room with Hobie. "He'll forget about it in a week, trust."

Unfortunately, his words went unheard as Miles continued to stare at the ground while they walked. Hobie pat him on the back. "Oi, cut yourself some slack. So you got in trouble for the first time, there's many more to come what with a boss man like that."

"Y-Yeah..." the kid managed to squeak out. Hobie frowned feeling regretful. It hurt seeing him so dejected. Needless to say, Hobie would not be asking Miles to dimension-hop any time soon, not that he would even want to.

Gwen gave Hobie an earful too; Miles was so afraid of being caught again that he only wanted to meet at HQ, much to her displeasure. "You better fix this," she said, finger waving angrily in his face.

So, here he was, many months later with his 3rd prototype, hoping and praying that it would work. He already ran the idea across Miles who swiftly rejected it. He was shocked at how many things Hobie had to steal to work on it, and his conscious would never allow for that. That's fine, Hobie can do all the stealing for him.

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Miles asked him on his 2nd prototype.

"Why not?" He obnoxiously responded. Miles huffed and rolled his eyes. “Maybe I want to see my bro again without Miguel hounding him for it.” He suggested. “Gonna make you your own when I’m done with this one.”

Miles held his hands up and shook his head. “Woah, nuh-uh. No sir. I don’t want nothing to do with that.”

Hobie shrugged. “Fine, then. I’ll make it for Gwendy instead.”

He seemed fine with that, and Hobie knew that at some point he would warm up to the idea of having his own watch. Until then, he didn’t mind traveling over to Earth-1610 whenever he could.

Hobie had to be completely honest with himself. Them getting caught and Miles’s paranoia was the the original reason he began this project, but it wasn’t the only reason. There was someone else he was trying to see on Earth-1610.

Since that day, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Often times he was caught daydreaming by his friends and colleagues alike. Hobie was never someone who had their head the clouds, it was very jarring to see. During these moments he was remembering her sweet voice, her amazing personality and even better music taste.

He had so much respect for her and what she’d been through. He wished he could just give her a hug. Pick her up and take her to where she’ll be safe. With him. For as long as possible.

He also remembered how mesmerized he was seeing her face for the first time. And her body. Her tits constrained by her fishnets with her nipples pressing against the string. How sweet she tasted while she gushed into his mouth, how good it felt when she squeezed herself around him, and wishing he could have came inside her instead of a condom. He’s become the owner to many injuries during missions and countless teasing from his band mates.

All the more reason to finish this watch as quickly as possible. Clearly, his brain was telling him that he needed to see her again. He needs to hear her voice, feel her touch, lick her clit, make her scream his name.

Okay, he was getting a bit carried away, but the point was, as time went on, the ache in his chest grew, and found himself missing her more and more. He’s been spending all of his free time on this hunk of junk, he needed to finish this for his own sanit-

There was a small beeping sound. Then, light.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed as it turned on. So as to not fuck it up, he placed it down gently onto his desk and backed away from it. When he tried to turn on the 1st one, it sparked then died. And the second turned on completely only to blow up in his face soon after.

He took in a deep breath, “Okay.” Grabbing the device with his sweaty hands, he pressed a few buttons. 1-6-1-0.

He stepped back and watched the portal open. He gave himself some time to calm down after jumping around and pumping his fists in the air, took another deep breath, and walked in…

…only to end up inside of his own bedroom.

“Ugh,” he threw his head back and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. So he created a watch that could make portals, just not inter dimensional ones. That’s okay. It’s a start. Next time, he’ll get it.

~

Okay, so he didn’t get it next time. This time, it goes to the wrong universe. It’s always nice seeing Spider-Sun anyway. It’s cool. It’s whatever. Next time.

~

So he didn’t get it right again, what’s the big deal? So what if this one only goes to one universe even though his last watch could do multiple? Next time for sure.

~

It caught on fire.

~

It melted.

~

This one just fell apart.

~

By the 15th attempt, Hobie was burned out. At this point, he was just doing it out of boredom. He was close to calling it quits, but something was telling him not to give up. The next one, for sure.

“Pfft, yeah right.” he scoffed to himself after turning on the 16th and final prototype. If this one didn’t work, then that was it. Gwen would just have to deal.

He stared at the forming portal in complete disinterest. At least it turned on this time, but he had the strongest feeling that this one was defective. Why wouldn’t it be? All the other ones were.

Hobie sighed and walked through it, ready to end up in the middle of a jungle in some other dimension. “Just one last time…”

~

Y/N’s not sure what she’s still doing awake. It was extremely late and she had accepted an early booking tomorrow. She should be asleep, it’s never good to tattoo when you’re sleepy. However, her body just refused to relax.

She was bored as all hell scrolling through Instagram and Twitter on her phone. There was nothing else better to do. She already smoked, ate, and gotten ready for bed. From her laptop the theme song to Pretty Little Liars echoed through the room.

Almost every night was this way, relaxing in the comfort of her own home, a show playing on her computer or music through her speaker, eating pasta, a joint in her hand. And as calming as it was, as much as she needed this serenity in her life, she wished there was more.

She’s not entirely sure what she means by ‘more’. She goes out with friends a lot, but after an hour or two, her head starts to hurt from the weed and alcohol and all she wishes is to be in her soft comfy bed. No, she definitely didn’t mean partying or nightlife. She had the smallest inkling that there was something out there. Something bigger than her. She wanted it so badly, but she doesn’t even know what ‘it’ is.

The last time she felt any sort of rush or excitement was months ago, the night of the concert. Whew. That man, Hobie, was the finest looking thing she had seen for a while. She doesn’t know what got into her that night, telling him all her business like that. Was she insane?

Was he? He did tell her he had killed a cop, and he proudly wears his achievement. As he should. She really really liked that about him. His boldness. And he wasn’t just that, he was also kind and respectful, even though she would have let him do whatever he wanted to her without having to ask.

He wasn’t afraid to let her know that he wanted her, badly. And that was probably the most attractive thing about him.

She woke up that morning feeling stupid when the cold bed made her heart pang and eyes water. Why was she even sad? This is what they agreed on. He finished the roach with her, took down her hair, fell asleep sucking on her tit, then left at some point during the night. No problems, no complaints. Maybe that’s what made her so sad.

She wished he stayed until she woke up, or at the very least, shook her awake when he was getting ready to leave. But, it’s on her for having a crush on him.

It got better as time went on. She still missed him dearly, but she began to accept that he was just one of those people you meet once and then never see again, but that you’ll never forget. She does know that if it was possible, she would be open to seeing him again, but it wasn’t.

Hobie wasn’t the only guy who had been plaguing her mind for the past few months. Recently, she found herself becoming more intrigued with Spider-Man. He was an enigma, no one really knew much about him or where he came from after Peter Parker’s death. She heard he was Puerto Rican, which she thought was pretty cool.

What intrigued her was sometimes Spider-Man wasn’t around. It happened around a year ago, now. He used to be everywhere. At every problem in Brooklyn from petty crime to another monster of the week. At some point last year, some crazy scientist at Alchemax had turned himself into a lizard and almost turned everyone else in the city into one too until he came flying in at the last moment. After that, it’s been extremely close calls. Y/N’s friend, Kailani, witnessed the whole thing from where the both of them were supposed to meet up. She said Spider-Man came in through a portal in the sky. Weird.

Things always turned out right in the end. Somehow, someway, he would show up eventually. But Y/N wondered, what could be keeping him so occupied?

The water from the shower turned off and she heard the curtains draw. After 15 minutes of rumbling in the bathroom, the door opened. She put her phone down to acknowledge the presence in her bed room. “Still awake, ma?”

She nodded although knowing he was about to join her made her eyes a bit heavy. Mattias turned off the light and hopped in bed. With his head on her chest, she felt warm and comfy as he completely engulfed her body. He was shirtless and had his arm around her waist. That along with the insulation from the blanket almost made her knock out.

Mattias put her phone on the nightstand. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” she said jokingly.

“You always looking at that thing,” he answered. “Time to give me attention.”

“Well that’s too damn bad ‘cause I’m about to go to sleep.”

He smacked his teeth. “So you can be awake all this time but as soon as I want to get in bed with you, you want to sleep?” She didn’t answer, giving him a fake snore as a response. “Ight, then.”

He starts to roll over in the bed until she grasps his torso. He laughs and adjusts the both of them so that her head was laying on his chest instead. “You still want to go to sleep, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” she says, her brain already shutting down.

“Go to sleep then, pretty girl.”

Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of her head to check her blinds, she drifted off into a deep and comforting sleep, her last thoughts being Hobie, Spider-Man, and the unknown. She could feel in her heart that there was more to the world than it seemed (apparently scientists are theorizing the existence of alternate dimensions) and she desperately wanted to know more about it. Maybe even see it for herself. But, right now she was just a girl (wanted felon but whatever) who lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn, working at a tattoo and piercing shop and occasionally getting involved with dudes from Queens like the one laying in her bed currently. He probably wouldn’t be there next week and the week after there’ll be a different one. And she was okay with that…

…Hobie was far from okay.

When he stepped through the portal he walked to the edge of the building’s rooftop. When he looked at the gigantic Koka-Kola billboard he knew he was in the right place. “Finally,” he yelled. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, an overwhelming sense of pride filling him.

On another billboard, the time was 1:01 am. “Shit,” he said to himself pulling his mask over his face. He immediately got to swinging towards where he remembered she lived. “I hope she’s up.” And even if she wasn’t , he would come see her another day.

When he turned on the corner of her apartment building, he let out a silent “yes”. He could see her room light was on through her window. But, before he could reach it, he paused and took a second to think.

How was he going to greet her again? It was 1 in the morning, and she hadn’t seen him for a while. She thought she would never see him again. How would she feel about him knocking on her door right now? How would that make him look?

Hmm…maybe he didn’t think this through all the way. He should go then come back at a better time…but, what time would be better? He doesn’t know her schedule and he won’t know what time it is. Shit…what should he do?

Okay, maybe he won’t talk to her tonight. He has to come up with a better plan. But, at the very least, he just has to see her.

His heart grows frantic as he swings to her rooftop. He jumped side to side for a minute and took some deep breaths to psych himself up. Then, he climbed off the roof and down to her window. To anyone else, this would have been creepy and an insane invasion of privacy, but Hobie couldn’t find it in him to care. He ignored everything in him telling him this was a bad idea.

He should have listened.

When he first laid his eyes on her again, he felt the butterflies he felt that night, but tenfold. She was just on her phone, obviously bored. He wanted to kiss her and watch her poker face turn into a cute smile. She looked adorable with her little bonnet and oversized t-shirt. He was so busy admiring her that he failed to notice the man walking in until she acknowledged him first.

Watching some guy waltz into her room like he lived there, pants hanging low and his shirt missing almost made him fall. All he could do was stare as that same guy plopped onto her and her bored look became happy. Hobie watched the two of them fall asleep in each other’s arms then crawled back to the roof and sat on the ledge.

His mask made him expressionless, But underneath it, he was hurt. He looked at his hands in defeat. He tried to be numb, but then he continued to think about what had just happened. He was desperate to see her again, to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss all her problems away. Now that he had his new watch, he could have had something with her. But he couldn’t think that anymore.

His chest twisted and curdled in anxiety and dejection. He had to admit it, he was heartbroken. He knew the two of them had a connection that night. He knew she felt it. The second round was just as good if not better than the first. She rode him in her bed slowly and sensually. His voice cracked so much that night, she had him absolutely gone. ‘I wish I could stay inside you’. Why would she tell him she wanted the same? Was it just sex?

He’s being ridiculous. He knows what happened: she moved on.

He didn’t want her to. He really didn’t want her to. He should have told her that he would see her again. He should have…done something.

Hobie lifted his legs and turned around to sit down on the roof. With his legs angled and knees in the air, he pulled off his mask to reveal his anguished face.

Hobie looked into the night sky. He was way too hung up on this girl. Look at him, sitting on her roof fighting tears because she has someone who isn’t him. Serves him right for getting a crush.

Man, maybe Miguel has a point about universe-hopping.

bonus

Tap Tap Tap

Groggy as all hell, Miles blinked slowly as the sound on the window woke him up. He looked in annoyance quickly shifting to happiness then worry once he realized who it was. “Hobie?” He checked the time on his phone that was charging next to him. “After 1:15 in the morning, bro?”

Miles stood up and cracked his back. Hobie moved to the side as the window opened and took off his mask. “‘Ight man, what’s up? Anomaly? Miguel?” He sounded dead tired, but once he saw his downtrodden expression, his nerves were on 10. “You okay?”

It wasn’t the first time they sat atop the dormitory’s roof, but it felt different now. The mood was serene but heavy. Hobie hadn’t really said a word, just messing with something in his lap. He had started climbing and Miles followed.

Hobie was sitting up with his legs crossed whereas Miles laid on his back a bit of a distance away. His hands behind his neck, he stared at the star speckled dark blue sky. Every once in a while he stole a look at Hobie’s back. It was beginning to scare him just how quiet he was. He seemed out of it, he’s never seen him like this before.

But, he wouldn’t push him if he wasn’t ready. Maybe he just needed to be with someone right now.

Still, he wanted him to say something. “So,” he started, Hobie turning his head only slightly to indicate that he had heard him. “You finished that watch then?”

He smirked and huffed. “Yeah, I did.”

The small joy Miles felt from getting him to talk was fleeting. Hobie tensed up again and went back to fiddling with said device. He couldn’t believe how excited he was to finish this thing…to see her.

He sighed and laid on his back as well. Miles held his breath waiting for him to say something. “Miles…I’m sorry.”

The boy furrowed his brows. “What for?”

“I don’t think I ever properly apologized for getting us into trouble like that.” A distant star passed through the sky. “I know how much this job means to you. I was being reckless.”

Miles smacks his teeth and smiles. “Man, don’t even worry about it.” He closes his eyes. It was nice to hear that apology, even though he would never dream of holding what happened over his head. “I know what you was doin.”

They laughed together. Then, Hobie’s small smile faded and it got quiet once more. “I went to see her again.”

“I thought so.”

“She found someone.”

Miles hisses and rests on his elbows to look at him. “Damn,” He sits up fully. “I’m sorry, bro. That must suck.”

Hobie sighs. “Yeah. Lil’ bit.”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad. I bet she missed you just as much as you missed her.” He comforts. Hobie thinks about what he said for a minute. He hopes he was right. He hopes she wanted him to come back to her, but accepted that he wasn’t.

“That’s a nice thought,” he answers. ‘Missed ’ was an understatement.

From the way he grew quiet again, Miles could tell that Hobie’s heart was very heavy. He didn’t really know what to say. Miles wasn’t exactly an expert in relationships, or women in general; he was still trying to figure out his. But, he knows that if he ever found out Gwen was seeing someone else, he would need a big fat hug. So that’s what he did.

He got right next to Hobie and squeezed his shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. Hobie nodded and looked into the sky.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know…”

“…Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you at least watch over her for me? Make sure your dad doesn’t get his hands on her, yeah?”

Miles laughed. Of course the only girl he’s ever seen Hobie get choked up over is wanted by the police. To which extent, he didn’t know. And he really didn’t want to find out. “Yeah, I got you.”

bonus bonus

“You’re fucking lying.”

“I’m telling you, girl. Cameron said he saw Spider-Man outside your window.”

“What was Cameron doing outside at 1 in the morning?”

“Who cares what he was doing? Spider-Man is keeping tabs on you. Maybe you’ve been targeted by an evil scientist. Or some shit.”

“Stop playing.”

“Spider-Man might be following you around. Tell him I said hiiiiii~.”

“Bye, girl.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N hung up her phone. Tati had frantically texted her in the middle of a piercing walk-in saying it was an ‘urgent matter’. Thankfully, her client was cool enough to let her answer while she continued.

“What was that all about?” The boy asked her. He was a nice kid, and very nervous for his first piercing. The whole situation was a bit strange. He walked in with a friend and a guy that looks absolutely nothing like the either of them who couldn’t shut up about how he met Spider-Man the other day. Then he signed the written consent form and dipped.

“My home girl calling me about some crazy shit,” she answered, almost done preparing her station. “She thinks Spider-Man is spying on me.”

The boy cackles really hard and wipes his eye. She didn’t think it was that funny, but whatever floats his boat. “What?” He wheezed. “That’s insanity.”

“I know, right?” She took the alcohol wipe and cleaned his cartilage. He started shaking a little, and she could see how small his pupils were. He was also…really sweaty. Teenage boys.

“You okay?” She asked. “You didn’t eat, right?” He shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said nervously. He was a bad liar. “Just…excited.” A really bad liar.

“Just relax, okay? I’ll take care of you.” She clamps his ear and he yelps. The both of them stare at each other. “This yo last chance.”

He takes a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay then.” She grabbed the needle and prepared to puncture it through his ear. He was trying so hard to be brave but man this kid was afraid. She laughed a bit. “I promise it’s not that bad…what’s your name again?”

“Oh, it’s Mi-AHH!” It was over just as quickly as it started. She was right. It wasn’t as bad. Now he just had to worry about what he would tell his parents when they saw him with it. “…miles…”

“Okay, Miles. We’re all good.”

ending a/n: okay now that’s it! Y’all ain’t getting nothing else from this lil series so don’t ask!

Fr tho guys, this was rly nice to write. Hobie is a lil OOC to me here but I can’t help but write men being absolutely obsessed with their girl it’s my favorite flavor.

Also thank you for choosing the epilogue for those of you who did bcs not only do I not have any business starting a whole new story while I’m literally in the middle of two, I really was gonna break yalls hearts with the story. Y’all would have been MAD AT ME! Shit, I would have been mad at myself.

Anyway, pls check out my other ATSV fics and Toji if you’re into him. Finish this off by saying please go see Rico Nasty live before you die, stay super freaky, have great vagina, I luv yaaaaa🩵

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @otaku-degenarate

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Can i request a part 2 of lost in time with luxiem where Reader do something to reunite with their s/o. I don't see reader not doing anything? You don't have to do this.

lost in time with luxiem, pt. 2

↢ part 1 here.

hello happy valentines everyone i hope you’ve shown your love to the people you care about including nonromantic ones. if you have a partner go get them flowers. even if they’re a man. especially if they’re a man. trust me on this one

it’s canon in this series now. while luxiem was off being all emo and whatever reader was actually pulling their weight. what a genderboss

tags: comfort no hurt, ok well there’s a little bit of hurt but it’s fluffy, angst with a happy ending, gender neutral reader

⚠️ drinking in luca’s entry

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland

Ike lives in periods of forgetfulness and remembrance, pooled together like blended watercolors. He lives to forget where he lives. His memories of the past scramble with the present as he loses himself in his writing, and at the worst of times he has to tell himself the voice of Reader is mental. They aren’t here. They could never be here.

Time passed. Some of his short stories were being published in magazines. One of the magazine editors, he was told, loved Ike’s image. “A mysterious, moody dark horse that reflects his themes of solitude,” they called him. He had to give it to them; their pitch for the image of the novelist Ike Eveland was tantalizing, but just as unreachable as Tantalus himself. 

After all, he blinks and for a moment he can see the flowering fields of his homeland, the streets in sepia, candy colors on his wall and the aurora borealis heralding his origin. The rolling sky, and from the corner of his eyesight the edge of your hand pointing out a cloud. A resting body bundled in blankets like snow. Sun rays on a face turned golden, they’re simply so radiant everything they touch becomes priceless. 

Ike catches himself calling your name more than he’d like to admit.

But he carries on, unfortunate as he may be. He takes care of himself, because if he’s going to hear your voice no matter where he goes, the least he can do is pretend you’d be disappointed if he wasn’t getting enough sleep, food, water… 

He returns to his desk the second he finishes a late-night snack, and freezes the second he sees an envelope square in the middle of his desk. In the center of the envelope he reads his name. Underneath it is yours.

His desperateness is seconded only by his caution. He takes his time opening the letter with as little damage as possible but can’t read fast enough.

To beloved Ike Eveland,

This is Reader. I wish I had the room to tell you everything in this letter, but I simply can’t. I’ll keep it as short as possible. I learned what caused you to blink out of existence. There’s a force of nature- really, a freak of nature that causes the force. I haven’t been able to identify it. What little I can see of it is searing. 

This isn’t about me, though. I found a way to manipulate the freak-force, I think. Keep this letter, but make sure the envelope I sent you is in usable condition. Remove my letter from the envelope. It’s hexed. Now write me another letter. I should be able to receive it. Tell me everything you can fit about where you are. Address, country. What your home looks like. I need a location and visualization. Then when you’re done place your letter within the envelope. The seal should still work as if it had never been used before. Seal it tightly. Then fall asleep, as soon as you can. Don’t move the envelope anywhere other than where you found it. I suggest sending your letter right before you go to bed. Dreams are the freak-force’s transportation, and it’ll give us the best chance possible. 

I don’t know how long I have nor how long this will take but it’s all I have. I don’t think I could bear it if you never came home.I’ll fill the rest of the page with this: I love you eternally. If this doesn’t work then I pray you know I will always think of you no matter our distance. Please be safe. I need you safe.

With diligence and love, your Reader.

Ike stops everything he planned on doing, grabs a sheet of blank paper, and writes. He has to get up a few times to check his location for sure (he’s a shut-in, and only now is he realizing it may bite him in the butt) but before long the paper is covered in all he knows about the gray world outside of his letter. 

When he’s done, he holds the envelope in his hands and inspects it carefully. It’s normal at first glance, but now that he focuses on it, he notices small circular grooves in the paper, similar to the grain on a regular parchment. There is a slight color change from one corner to the other, cream to eggshell. And sure enough, the glue on the edge of the envelope is perfectly intact.

It’s a late hour already. Ike finishes getting ready for bed before he folds his letter, gingerly places it within the hexed envelope, and seals it. He sets it in the center of his desk, just as how he found it, and hurries off to bed. Whatever you’re planning, the last thing he wants to do is be the reason it fails. 

Ike falls asleep before the anticipation threatens to keep him awake.

Ike wakes slowly, and his vision returns even slower. The world blurs together like he opened his eyes underwater. 

Someone calls his name. “Ike!”

And just like that he surfaces. He fights to regain his vision, and when he meets your eyes it’s like a breath of air after drowning. 

You call out his name again. “Ike, are you awake?”

Your voice is an oasis in a desert, and it attaches to a heavenly face when his eyesight clears. You lean over his body as he stirs, and the sun is covered by your head. An arc of light accompanies your visage.

“Reader,” he says, so slow and quiet he can barely believe it. “You’re beautiful.”

The kiss you share makes up for lost time. Your hands support his head, so gentle as not to hurt him but keep him steady against your lips as he lays. Even when it turns passionate, he’s still so tender with you. You treat him as a diamond: one of the strongest of his kind, yet you still hold him like a precious treasure even when you part. 

“How did you find me?” Ike asks, and sits up. He’s laying in a field dotted with wildflowers and trees, and you sit next to him. The sun crosses against your skin.

You grant him a pained smile. “I’m not entirely sure. I don’t think I ever want to be sure. There’s a lot of things in this universe us humans don’t have the ability to process correctly.” You turn around and raise your shirt. 

Underneath the fabric on your back are tiny markings that make up an entire illustration. When Ike focuses on the details he can identify wave patterns, astrological signs, and what looks like tentacles weaving through your skin in black ink that shimmers deep teal in the sunlight, completely unlike any tattoo he’s ever seen before. 

Looking at the illustration as a whole is maddening. Ike trails a finger lightly against the patterns on your spine, a jumble of tendrils and tentacles reaching along the bone. 

You continue as Ike takes in the illustration on your body. “That freak of nature I was talking about in my letter? It marked me. I think this means I’ll be one of its vessels when it awakens, but I doubt it will during my lifetime. It’s sentient, but unaware. Sleeping, I think. I don’t remember a lot about how I came into contact with it, but it connects different worlds and times together in its dreams.” You lower your shirt and look back into Ike’s eyes, and he notices that even your own eyes have a shimmery teal hue to them now. “I spent as much time as I could learning how it worked, and before I knew it one day I woke up with that tattoo seared into my back and so much knowledge about how it works, it makes my head spin if I think about it too long. When I started to get tired that night, I simply just knew I should write you a letter, and on my bed was an envelope I’d never seen before.”

“That was hexed, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly. I think in the freak’s dreams, it manifested you out of our current time, the one we’re in right now. So the letter helped me manifest you right back.” You tapped your head. “You did what I asked. I never received your letter back, but something in my brain generated an address, and a time, and what it was like to be you in your new time. I focused in on it as hard as I could, and, well.” You looked out to the field. It was far away from the town, but Ike recognized it as his home. A gentle breeze swept through the air. “Here we are.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Ike’s hand brushed against your own, and you intertwined his fingers with yours. “You’re amazing, Reader.”

“I doubt it. A dive into some unknowable force will do that to you, no matter who you are, and I’m afraid I get nightmares now. Horrible ones I can’t even recall.”

“Then you’re amazing and courageous. It must’ve taken a lot of strength to even withstand whatever it was, and the fact that you’re here just proves it.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m honored to say I love you. I’m honored to have even met you.”

“I love you too,” you say. “Eternally, no matter what may become of me. Now, let’s get you home.”

“We can stay here.” The sun rests along Ike’s face, and the shadows of trees makes the light look like sprinkles along his cheeks. “I just want to appreciate that I’m here. With you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “With you, that’s all,” he repeats. His head rests upon yours, and for the first time in the months he’s been torn away from you Ike is at peace. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro

The day after Luca saves that woman from the thugs, he goes to the club again. 

Unfortunately she’s just as much of a regular as he is, and he sees the top of her head on the dance floor while he gets his drinks in. She waves him over. He averts his eyes. 

The woman is headstrong, though, and when he ignores her she moves across the bodies and plops herself on the barstool next to him. She sits with her arms on the bar and looks out to the party like she owns the world. 

“Some heroic behavior, ignoring a fair maiden like that,” she snarks. She calls to the bartender. “Two strawberry margaritas for my friend and I! On my tab.”

“I don’t drink margaritas,” Luca says.

“You do now.” The woman isn’t as plastered as she was that night, but seems intent on changing that, and when the bartender slides them their drinks she raises it. “To whatever you’re searching for.”

He obliges. The woman gulps down as much as she can in one breath while Luca takes a tentative sip. The lime and salt startle him. It’s fresher than his usual beers, and far tastier. He drinks more.

“So what are you searching for?” She asks.

“I don’t know what your deal is.”

“You know what I mean.” Everything about her gives Luca the impression he should just just dismiss her whole spiel as drunk ramblings but she’s too sober for that, and even though he tries to ignore it the answer is clear as day.

But she keeps talking, completely ignoring the vibe Luca keeps giving out. “You are sooo emo. Like, what’s the point of going to a club if you’re just going to sit and drink beer of all things. Tastes like piss! You’re young. Have fun with yourself. Go dance, get a marg.”

“I’m not all that into dancing.”

“Oh, so you like watching. Gotcha. Perv.”

Luca puffs up in protest. “I am not a perv!”

“Yaaaay, a reaction!” The woman throws up her hands in a cheer. “So you got broken up with, huh?”

“I did not.” He tries to state it like it’s nothing, but his voice patters out, and he’s sure the woman can’t hear over the music. He’s certain nothing was the matter in his relationship, but he’s taking the separation hard. He wonders if you got over him. He hopes not. Clearly he hasn’t gotten over you.

Luca goes in on the margarita. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over you.

“You look out at the floor all longingly but whenever someone hits on you, you chicken out. That’s okay. You’ll find someone new soon enough. Plenty of fish in the sea. Any time now your balls will drop and you’ll order a drink for some sap on the floor,” the woman says. “You always miss ‘em until you remember the sex wasn’t all that.”

“It isn’t about that,” Luca growls. His temper rises to heat. “It’s about-”

He cuts himself off. The woman implores him to keep talking, but he shuts up before he can let the whole time-travel thing slip. Margaritas were made with tequila, weren’t they? He’s screwed. 

In a moment of weakness Luca looks for anything to serve as a subject change. He realizes that in one hand the woman holds a piece of paper smaller than her hand. “What’s that?”

“A cute guy’s number,” she deadpans. When she doesn’t get a laugh, she relents. “Kidding. You remember the night you…”

She trails off. She has a glassy look in her eye, and the first time that night the woman actually seems uncomfortable. 

Maybe that’s not the word, Luca thinks. ‘Pensive’ might be a better fit. 

“...When we met,” she decides on. “And I took a taxi. I barely remember anything but when the taxi arrived to my place, there was this freaky driver. They gave me this card and told me to give it to one Luca Kaneshiro.”

She produces the business card on the surface of the bar, and when he reads the name emblazoned his blood goes cold.

In a blink of an eye, Luca grabs the woman’s head and drags her ear to to his mouth. He whispers under the howling music. “You’re going to answer my questions honestly or else.”

“That’s hot,” the woman whispers back.

“What did the driver look like?”

“Total weirdo. When I entered the car it was just a normal guy. Can’t remember the face, it blurs together. I took a nap and when I got to my place they had this lion mask on.”

“The name on this card. What does it mean to you?”

“Nothing? I just thought it was a lawyer. Or a cult.”

Luca turns her head to look straight at him. Her cheeks are cupped between his hands. “Their name is Reader.” 

He searches for a reaction, but unfortunately she keeps the same expression even when he says the name aloud. “I know I said I wasn’t interested, but if you keep this up I’m going to get excited.”

Luca lets go and fishes out a bill from his wallet. He figures it’s enough for the margarita. A tiny part of him wishes he had the time to take in more of the drink, but that business card snapped enough sense into him to shake off some of the buzz. “You’re useless.”

He snatches the card from the bar. She sputters. “Hey! That’s not for you!”

“It is, actually.” He taps the Kaneshiro name emblazoned on the card. “These are my boys.”

“You’re Luca?” The woman watches him as he stands up. “Cool name! For an asshole! You’re an asshole, Luca!”

“Thank you for the information. I wish you well.”

“And you’re righteous, too? God, I know how to pick ‘em. Some fucking hero!” She turns around in her stool. “Fine, okay, just brush me off. Some fucking hero.”

She knows how to get under Luca’s skin, but he stares at the card as he leaves the club, transfixed. In neat gold font is Reader Kaneshiro, front and center.

He starts off the route home, already planning out what to do with this, when a taxi pulls up and parks next to him. The window lowers. Luca doesn’t make eye contact, because how you do you see through someone wearing a lion mask?

It’s simple: you don’t. Luca designed these masks for his mafia to use expressly for that purpose.

“Get in, Boss.” The car lock clicks open. “The underboss wants to see you.”

Like a well-oiled machine Luca opens the door.

“How are you here?” Luca asks.

“Science mumbo-jumbo,” the grunt says. As soon as Luca straps himself in he floors it. The grunt curves down the road into some back streets. “But for what it’s worth, it’s good to see you in the flesh again, Boss.”

The taxi stops in front of an arcade. The grunt opens the door for Luca, and he guides the Boss through the halls. As they walk, Luca realizes the entire building is clear of machines and utterly abandoned, save for more goons in lion masks. They stand before him in reverence, even more so than when he was in control of his past. He overhears one whisper to another, “Oh, snap.”

His driver leads him to the back of the building and to a door labeled Employees Only. 

“The underboss is waiting for you in there,” he said. “Go in by yourself. And be nice to them, will you, Boss? They’ve waited long enough already.”

Luca nods, and the grunt departs as Luca pushes open the door.

On the other side, a figure in silvery vintage clothes awaits. You sit on a counter, looking as uninterested as ever, until you catch a look of the face that enters and time stops.

You pounce off the counter and into Luca’s arms the second you see him. “Boss! Luca!”

You feel you feet lift off the ground as Luca returns the hug, so tight you can barely breathe, but the pressure is a gift. You laugh as he practically spins in a circle and swings you along with him. “Luca, I can barely believe it! I mean, all the signs pointed to yes, but it’s you!”

“I missed you!” He places you down so he can land a kiss against your smile. “I missed you so, so much!” He punctuates his words with even more kisses across every inch of your face. One on your forehead, one on your nose, one on your cheek, and so many more you lose count until another on your lips. “Reader, how is this possible? You’re sixty years in the past!”

“Sit down. There’s a lot to explain, but I’ll try to keep it simple.” When he does, you place yourself in his lap and wrap your arms around his body. You’ve spent so much time trying to find him, the skinship acts as a constant reminder of your success. “When you disappeared, I became the defacto leader as the underboss, and prevented inheriting your title of leader as much as I could while our boys investigated. Then when rumors started flying around that you jumped through time, we just couldn’t buy it. So we captured one of the leading voices in quantum physics. He’s a revolutionary.”

“You captured a revolutionary scientist?”

“Yeah. We went to Deezneyworld.” You produced a photo out of your pocket. You, a chunk of macho subordinates, and one very out-of-place scientist all posed at the gates of the Kaneshiro family’s money laundering front, an amusement park. Everyone wore happy smiles and lion-ear headbands from the gift shops, including the scientist. “He’s a brother to us now. But anyways, his research was paramount to learning where you went, and how to recreate the phenomenon. It’s really nerdy. Gets confusing. But once he confirmed his theories, I deployed myself and a small squad of scouts into the future, and turned the city upside down looking for you.

“We figured you might’ve run off to the red-light district or some club scenes, where pretty much any mafia gets their start. Figured you’d start schmoozing with a bunch of drunks. Not so sure about that, but then we saw on the news last night about some brutal mugging gone wrong on the side of the muggers, and one of the cubs heard something from a drunkard about a hero in an vintage pinstripe suit and fur coat that saved her. The cub sent her off on her way to find Luca Kaneshiro, and some others started staking out the club she came from.” You smirk in satisfaction, and press a kiss to his jawline. “Totally unconventional mission statement, but I did pretty good for an underboss, huh?”

“I love you so much,” Luca says. “You’re the best partner in crime I could ask for.”

“It’s a privilege working with you, Luca. I’d do it again and again if it means we run the world together, never separate.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck. His fur coat and blond hair tickles your face. Oh, you missed this feeling. Luca is so warm, and now that you’re in his arms once again it’s like a long winter returning to spring after months of no sun. “I love you too.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦊 Mysta Rias

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, yet Mysta works himself into circles. How else could he manage? He knows he will never have all the answers in the world. It’s a foolish pursuit to make knowledge a trade and all you have. It makes you jaded and sour, without any wonder for the world itself. Even as a detective on the case for the truth, he keeps things out of his reach and likes it that way. Leave yourself unanswered questions, after all, and you’ll always have something indefinite to inspire you.

He believed this wholeheartedly, and when he’s not on the clock at his private investigation office he tried to practice what he spent years preaching. His efforts have failed. Even during business hours, if he just so happens to blink a certain way it reminds Mysta of how the ground melted into a spiral before him and swallowed him whole, only to spit him out in the future without a single thread connecting back to his home.

It just doesn’t make any sense. On days when he’s itching for a distraction he even reads and watches fantasy and sci-fi stories, just to see how the characters manage the time they find themselves in. Then he converts their logic to his predicament, and expects it all to change back as it once was- but it never does, and Mysta can never let go of his reason in an unreasonable situation.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, yet Mysta always picks his cold case back up. I missed something, he assures himself, without a shred of evidence to affirm the suspicion. He retraces the steps and sniffs out the clues once again, with a different perspective than the one he had last. 

None of them work out. A man can have any perspective at all, but in the end, Detective Mysta Rias was thrown out of his world and into a new one sixty years in the future. Reason alone cannot explain it, nor clarify, nor aid. The absurd is absurd. You cannot think outside the box when the box is within a cube. His head hurts just thinking of that analogy.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, yet when Mysta tries to remember the events of that day nothing grants him peace of mind. All his thoughts fall into a lump of tangled spaghetti, and he’s starting to understand Einstein’s words. 

It was normal in the way that he defined normal. He woke up Friday morning with his partner, Reader, right beside him in bed like normal. Went to work at his detective agency in the late morning while Reader stayed behind on their day off and planned to do some errands like normal. No major field work, only papers to be filed and officers to call, like normal, and he clocked out at night, just like normal. 

The next part is where it starts to get weird. While walking home from the agency, he saw a man in a gaudy fur coat steal a purse, and gave chase. This is one of those things that others would call “exciting,” but considering his line of work it’s just another day- and he dreads to say this- like normal. By the time he cornered the thief, Mysta’s blue eyes furrowed under his brow right before widening as his feet lifted off the ground and sent him into a rip in the air like a galaxy.

Then he was in 2022, which is decidedly not normal. He’s revisited this moment thousands of times. The thief went unidentified with the future’s resources, and the alleyway he thinks he visited right before his time travel stint provided no clues. He’s no astronomer, and even if he was, he didn’t get a good enough look at the galaxy unfolding before he fell into the future. Mysta detests this. There just has to be something he’s missing from that day, but without the tools to recreate it nor investigate professionally, he’s a sitting duck.

Except for the fact that for the first time in his life, he has a question that needs to be answered at all costs, and he hates being a sitting duck when he’s itching to figure it out. It’s a cycle that snowballs.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, yet Mysta always expects a face he’ll never see in this time whenever someone knocks at the door. It’s usually a mailman or a deliveryperson, but the want is still there.

It would be so much easier if it was Reader on the other side, and they admitted that they forgot their keys and locked themselves out. That was uncommon, but not unheard of ever since you moved in together. Or Reader at the door ready to pick him up for a date, as you did before then. Or even earlier than that, Reader at the door with a bouquet and a determined blush, like that evening when workplace crushes turned into a relationship.

Mysta is so lost in what could be that he forgets what is, until the person on the other side of the door knocks again. The dream is on pause, and grumpily, he opens the door.

Huh. Reader is on the other side. That’s a surprise.

Mysta blinks, stone-faced. Then again, and once more to set it it that, no, this isn’t a cruel delusion. That’s his partner, in the flesh, right before his very eyes, after so much time pursuing this moment.

Mysta throws himself at you in a tight embrace. You nearly lose your balance when his arms clutch around you. He doesn’t say a word, and you can’t see his face while you’re pressed up against his chest, but he holds you with such force that his desperation spreads to you. It’s been a long investigation, trying to locate his whereabouts across your home sixty years ago to a future you never should’ve entered, and all the relief pours out of you as you return his embrace. Mysta’s arms are your resting place.

You curl around and whisper in his ear. “Let’s get inside. I want to tell you everything.”

It’s almost like nothing has changed. You don’t waste time on pleasantries, because the stretch of time you spent separated from your partner was like living through a wreck. You and Mysta do things in your own language, in your own way, and it’s always been a source of pride that you’ve always been on the same page as him without having to overcomplicate things. 

Mysta doesn’t remove himself from you as you sit on the couch. Instead, he shifts himself to one side and holds your arm while you get situated, then places himself behind you on the couch. His lap is your pillow. “I’m afraid that if I stop touching you then we’ll be separated again,” he admits. “I don’t want to let go.”

“Then don’t.” While one of his hands traces patterns along your shoulder, you take the other and kiss the back of his palm. Mysta’s heart flutters alive, and the feeling is so foreign to him over these last few months, he wonders if he’s experiencing his last moments. 

“Your missing persons case was a weird one. Law enforcement was at a loss, and so was I,” you say. You fall into the same cadence you use in the detective agency on debriefing cases. “Reports stated you left the office safely, but never came home. I tracked our usual route and the side trips you usually take, to no avail, and when Occam’s razor failed- the simplest explanation is the correct explanation- it was then I started thinking outside of the box. 

“I made tons of theories, and canceled out just as many. One night, I was so at a loss of ideas that I just started solving other missing persons cases, just to see if anything could apply to yours. That’s how I found out about the disappearance of Luca Kaneshiro.”

“The mob boss?”

“The very one. When he went missing, he was last seen on a street you were also recorded at. He was reported missing days after you, you see, and when I reinvestigated the area was crawling with his goons. After staking out the area I made an alliance with them, minimal resistance.”

“Makes sense. The Kaneshiro mafia is well-known for being docile even to law enforcement until you poke the sleeping bear,” Mysta recounts. “I’m not surprised you managed to talk to them, much less ally with them.”

“They made the connection before I told them. A mafia boss and a detective disappear into an alleyway, never to be seen again? Anyone would think that’s suspicious. We compared notes. While Mysta Rias was presumed missing, the mafia figured Luca Kaneshiro was abducted. Get this. In a matter of days when I reached out to my Kaneshiro contact again, they had a breakthrough. Time-fuckin’-travel. They recruited a quantum physicist into their ranks and everything to prove it.”

“I can’t imagine.” Mysta attempted to be sarcastic, but he was still too in awe that his partner was right where they belonged in his lap to get a full deadpan out.

“So now that I was investigating both the Rias and Kaneshiro cases, the underboss started putting together a squad to search for their big boss. I provided them insight on where their boss might’ve gone across time. In return, they gave me a lift to all this-” you gestured to Mysta’s little apartment and the city outside of it, a world too big to summarize in a word- “-And the assurance that you and I would return to our original timeline with the underboss’s squad once they found Luca Kaneshiro.”

“You trust them?”

“Better than I trust half the unchecked cops we work with. You said it yourself, baby, they’re docile. Luca Kaneshiro believed in protecting the weak with kindness, and it seems he’s trained his family well. I’ve given them nothing but faith, and they’ve given me theirs. They wouldn’t have pinpointed their boss without my deduction, after all.” While you rested your head in Mysta’s lap, he glanced down at you as you spoke. Even as he responded to your debriefing, amazement was still struck on his face, though it toned down since the moment you reunited. 

You’re reminded that even now, you both moved so naturally into your daily discussions of detective work that you haven’t processed properly that you and Mysta are finally in the same room again.

With fondness, you reach out and tap the tip of his nose. His eyes follow your finger like a puppy, and when you crack a smile at his reaction, his face falls into blushing bashfulness. “Happy to report that finding you and getting you back was all my doing, though,” you say. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You’re so hot for that,” Mysta says. Then he covers a hand over his mouth and looks away, as if that’d erase his shyness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I mean, I’m in love with you, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, that’s all. I’m not sure how to handle this.”

“We’ll figure out where to go from here together. We have a way out, after all. Let’s just take the time to stay where we are comfortably.” You roll your head back and shift in Mysta’s lap. His attention returns to you. “Hey, Mysta. I love you too. You know you can kiss me.”

“You’d let me? Even though it’s been so long?”

“Especially because it’s been so long.”

The last thing you see is the comfort in his smile before he bends over and presses his lips upside-down against yours. Maybe not normalcy… but it’s the beginnings of the return, in a language only you and Mysta understand.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

“Shu. Don’t wake up. But be lucid, now, I need you to listen to me.”

“Reader…”

“It’s me. Come on, Shu. You’re dreaming.”

“My dreams aren’t usually this meta.”

“Stay grounded. I’m astral projecting to you right now.”

“That was always the one thing I taught you that you could perform…”

“It took a lot of effort but it’s coming in handy now. Oh, that doesn’t matter. You look awful. Don’t give me that look. Well, you look okay enough here but once you wake up, figure it out. You’re doing this all wrong and hurting yourself because of it.”

“My rituals…?”

“Yes! It pains me to see you overexert yourself when you don’t have to!”

“It’s what I need to do to summon you.”

“No, it’s not- oh, Shu, sweet thing, don’t tell me. You’ve been intentionally reaching across space?”

“I have to. It’s for you.”

“Yes, yes, I’m very flattered, but there’s an easier way to do this. One that doesn’t involve ripping a space vacuum in our apartment. It’s time only that separates us, Shu. I’m… somewhere. I’m not sure. I don’t know metaphysics like you do. But I know the difference is our timelines, not locations. I’m able to do some astral projection, after all, that should account for something.”

“And you’re a novice. How long have you been trying to contact me?”

“Ever since I warped away.”

“That would be months, then. There’s no way you would be able to transmit a projection across universes like that so quickly.”

“It makes sense. Listen to me- good, I can touch you. Let me hold you. Get yourself some rest. Real rest, none of these short barely-functioning naps, I mean an entire night. Can you do that for me?”

“But I need to keep working.”

“And your work will get you nowhere if you’re not in top condition. I need you in top condition. Okay? And you figured it out. You’re putting in too much effort to find the right answer, and it’s going to suffocate you one day, literally. It doesn’t have to be that way. When you wake up, write every single thing down. Don’t give yourself a chance to forget.”

“I need to reach across time alone. I don’t need to consider space.”

“Good boy.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“Maybe. But the time thing was real. I wouldn’t joke about that when I can see you exhausting yourself. It breaks my heart.”

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“But you’ve got to be one of the strongest people in the world to endure it. It’s just that you don’t have to endure it. Come on, rest with me.”

“You’re soft. Can we stay like this?”

“Of course. Just get comfortable, I’m hoping it’ll force you to sleep longer. Oh, you sweet thing, oh. My sweet Shu.”

“Can you sing to me?”

“My singing isn’t all that.”

“It’s calming. I’ve heard you hum before.”

“If that’s really what’ll help you rest.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Shhh, I know you do. You can barely keep your eyes open even now. Keep them closed, sweet thing, I’ve got you.

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars…”

Shu wakes up the next day with music coursing through his head, the ghost of a dream. At the thought of your face he finds the nearest pen he sees and writes your advice on his arm. Don’t rip apart space. Just time is fine. 

He wonders if you can see him as he grabs a scrapbook off a shelf. Its contents are treasured, but a chunk of the photos inside are missing. The book itself chronicles his relationship with you. The big moments are safe, but the little memories that color the story in daily photos were removed from their pages, and he thumbs through the pages where there isn’t a single photo that stares back at him. 

His pace slows when he realized he can’t remember any of the photos that use to rest on one page. Every day for the past few months, he would draft a new ritual to summon you, and in return for you summoning he’d sacrifice a photo, representing a moment in time he could never truly get back. Miracles aren’t cheap, after all.

The pages flip upon themselves, and when he finds a photo still in pace he slips it out from the protector with as little thought as possible. But as little as he tries, his mind still connects the dots. This one doesn’t have faces, but he can recognize his arm in the background. You took a candid picture one wintry evening when you and Shu decided on making cookies. The photo focused on one sugar cookie covered in royal icing that was so ugly you couldn’t help but laugh, and tried to take a serious, artsy picture with the ugly blob of frosting as the focal point. It just so happened that you could also see Shu in the corner, struggling to frost one of his own cookies. 

The moment comes to Shu on instinct the second he sees it, no matter how hard he tries to resist. The sound of your laughter is attached to the photo, and he hates the idea that soon he’d forget exactly how your giggles rose and fell, the way you fought to compose yourself.

Miracles aren’t cheap, and he hopes it’s enough this time. After all, you came to him in his dreams, and he’s sure it’s not his consciousness deluding itself. 

Time manipulation is one of the most difficult subjects of magic, and viewing other timelines is simpler but still not an easy task. Retrieving objects- or people, in your case- in between those two subjects, and his initial rituals always connected retrieval across time along with the distortion of space. The subject of space was a lot simpler to grasp- after all, there have been spellcasters that can teleport themselves with ease- but still nothing to sneeze at. When spatial retrieval combined with temporal, it was simply too much. 

These past few months, Shu tried to brute-force it by honing his abilities with practice, but today he takes a glance at the words on his arm. Your advice.

Shu repeats the steps he’s come to memorize. Jasmine and palo santo incense fills the room as he draws a new magic circle. He drafted the circles of his other attempts with a combination of temporal and spacial elements. This one is minimal in comparison, and already his shoulders feel lighter knowing he doesn’t have to mess around with the oxygen in the witch hut getting sucked out by a rift in space. 

By the time the incense cleanses his hut, he places the three components- one of your favorite accessories, a strand of your hair, and the photo- within their spirals.

As he sets the photo down he does so knowing it’s the last he’ll ever see of it. “Please work,” he whispers, and that’s the last regulated thought he has.

Shu stands in the center of the circle, and when he speaks the incantation his intention is set.

The chalk circle bursts aflame in magenta, and he knows tendrils of fire spurt out from his back as he continues. He doesn’t allow his mind to wander as sorcery flows through his bloodstream and through the fire. The circle becomes a wall that cuts him off from the material, and the heat is intense, blurring through the air and making mosaics of his environment. He doesn’t feel a thing. 

Really, it’s like second nature.

The incantation goes forth. Burning ashes flicker off of the flames that take up all his vision. Magenta curls around his arms now and wraps around his body. Shu stands his ground. He continues to stand his ground, adamant in the flame, even when the last utterance of the incantation is spoken and the magenta world goes white.

He’s not quite sure if he faints.

But when he does regain his consciousness, he stares up at the apartment ceiling, not the witch’s hut he’s spent his lonesome in. Smoldering smoke and ash assails his nostrils. His ears are ringing, and even as he blinks he can see the white light flooding in from the corners of his vision. He lays on the ground. His body feels heavy.

“Shu.” The weight shifts, and his head rises so gentle. The light clears.

Shu’s chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. He’s too entranced to speak out loud, so he does so under his lost breath. “You’re back.”

When you fell back into place it was right where Shu stood, and after the ritual, where he lay on the floor. You sat upon his lap, one leg on either side, and your hand held his head so it wouldn’t drop to the hard ground.

Shu holds his arms out to reach for you, and you help him sit up properly. He places himself around you and his lips take in yours.

His hands are an exploration, and he goes in hungrily but tentative. With each fistful of fabric and brush of skin, it’s another affirmation that you’re real, and in his arms no less, and all his efforts were recognized. When his hands rest against your thighs you hold him tighter, a confirmation. Where he holds back, you go all in; it’s been so long since you’ve been able to feel anyone else, and when the first thing you come back to is Shu, keeping him close is second nature.

Even when he parts to regain his breath he still supports you. Shu stands, and before you know it he sweeps you up in his arms as well. He’s muscular, and his voice is still so quiet, like he’s in a place of worship. 

“Let me hold you,” he says, and you cling to his neck. He smells like jasmine and palo santo. He carries you to your bedroom, and sets you down carefully, like a delicate keepsake.

“I’m glad I talked to you.”

“I don’t think I would’ve figured out the answer without you.”

“Even though it was so simple?”

“I never would’ve made the connection.” Shu pecks your lips, and somehow it’s even more emotional than the first for the moment it lingers. “I never would’ve rested.” 

“You need to.” You hold Shu’s face between your hands. His cheeks squish against your fingers and it feels like heaven, but the dark circles under his eyes are not lost on you. “You’re better than when I saw you in your dreams, but I’m still concerned.”

He laughs. “Only you could be literally lost in time and still find time to worry over me.”

“Of course I would. I care about you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you.” Shu lays back on the mattress, and the only thing connecting you both is his pinky finger, crossed between yours. “Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“I’m making up for lost time. I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since you disappeared.”

“I know.”

You tuck Shu in while his fingers rest intertwined with yours, and he squeezes before closing his eyes. He’s serene, and it stuns you just how composed he is for a sorcerer that just retrieved his lover from across time itself. If it weren’t for how exhausted he looked through pale skin and heavy bags, then you would think him untouchable, an invulnerable man.

You caress his colorful hair and the side of his face. He must be one of the most beautiful men alive, and his dedication is no different. Vulnerability is his strength.

You muster the love Shu inspires and sing.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Vox Akuma

Vox finds out he landed in the United Kingdom, across the world from where his castle once stood. It’s been months since he reincarnated, but he hasn’t even started rebuilding an empire yet. It’s natural for a demon to vie for control, and he thirsts for it, but whenever he starts to seriously consider it, the memories of Akuma Castle return all over again, salt in the wound. Then he thinks of how he watched you bleed right in front of him, and how he wasted your intervention, and he has to sit while his heart screams in phantom pain.

He walks the allies at night and abuses his voice for ease. The strangers that pass by dressed in expensive clothes give him their wristwatches like he’s an old friend, and when they regain their senses he’s already gone. The ones that get too nosy are on the receiving end of his nastiest voice, and if he had any more of a bleeding heart he’d feel bad about how they would never forget the way his tone simply shatters even the strongest resolve.

It’s a pitiful existence. He should be living a life of glamour surrounded by humans that follow his every command and all the wealth the world can offer, but here he is, simply getting by like a street rat. 

But the pain is too fresh. His heart aches. Phantom pains.

Vox revisits the subway he landed in on occasional nights. It’s a compulsion. Sometimes Akuma Castle’s final moments flood back, but more often he sits at the bench with a blank look on his face, waiting for something to happen.

Tonight is one of the latter. Vox leans back against the wall and stares at the tiled ground. It’s late enough that this train shouldn’t be running until dawn, but the time is uncertain. After all, he’s underground, and the closest thing to the moon down here is a flickering fluorescent light.

He exhales. He can never forget the moment you passed on. A wise advisor, a formidable warrior, and beautiful lover all gone in such a moment, simply because he didn’t strike true into the bleeding man that was his undoing, the reason you had to save him, the price of your life, phantom pains…

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears footsteps echo through the empty station and enter the corner of his vision.

“What do you want?” Vox grumbles, not willing to give the stranger the satisfaction of looking at his face. 

The stranger gets down on a knee in reverence, and Vox’s curiosity gets the better of him. He watches them lower their head, and when he recognizes them his eyes widen.

Reader, gorgeous as the day they met, untouched by war nor blood, speaks clearer than water. “Milord. I see now that “the Voice Demon” is no mere nickname.”

Vox is struck into silence and doesn’t dare move, like a deer in the headlights.

You raise yourself. You cock your head. “Milord Vox? Is everything alright?”

“I- I must be dreaming,” Vox says. He sweeps his hand over his open mouth. “You died.”

“I did. In the heat of battle, beside the one I love and the family I swore myself to protect.”

“Then how are you here? You should’ve passed on into your afterlife- no, don’t tell me. You’re not at peace, are you? You’re not at peace, and it’s all my fault.”

“Don’t wound yourself, Milord. Every moment I spend on the battlefield it’s with conviction that I may die for my own beliefs, not by command of careless officer. You would know that best, darling Lord.” You sit next to him and stretch out your hand. “Touch me if you think I am but an apparition, and look into my eyes for the answer.”

Vox doesn’t have the strength nor understanding to move, but he meets your eyes. The pupils are thin, nearly catlike, and things fall into place when a flicker of orange breaks through the color. They’re virtually human, but lava seeps through the color and tints them infernal.

“You’re a demon,” he blurted out. 

You nod. “When I died, I was selected out of purgatory and sent to Hell for my wisdom and strength in life. The demons that greeted me- your people- presented me with a choice: enter my proper afterlife as I imagined it would be when I lived, or continue immortally with infernal blood coursing through me. The choice to carry on the demonic legacy of balance in this world with the skills I fostered through my human life.

“I have to speak in truth, Milord. I was too surprised my presence in Hell was requested to understand the choice entirely. The demons granted me the time to make my decision, and to that I am grateful for their hospitality. I spent time meditating on each outcome. Peace and rest, or an unending adventure so I may die time and time again, each with the same conviction as I held when my mortal life ended.”

Vox reaches out and feels the palm of your hand. His fingers are slight, and you allow him to press down on the hand, take in the warmth of your skin, and brush against your calluses before he fully clasps his around yours. You notice the tremble in his lip, and how he tries to bite the inside of it. He’s about to cry.

“Oh, Milord Vox, my darling.” You press your lips to the back of his palm, then squeeze his hand. “It’s a lot of information, but understand this. I did not become a demon as debt or mindless loyalty. I did so of my own volition, for my own identity, under my own name. Even then, I am exceedingly honored to continue alongside you in our infernal lives. I see I truly was blessed to walk this Earth following you, and that blessing follows me as I have followed you.”

Vox’s voice is as wet as his eyes. Rarely does he express his vulnerability, but when he does, it’s with utmost trust. “How could I ever be your blessing when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

“Milord, come here.” You outstretch your arms, and Vox collapses into you. He buries his head into your chest, and sniffles as you stroke his hair. “My darling Lord. We found where we need to be, and each other once more. I couldn’t ask for more.”

“None of this ‘Milord’ title anymore,” Vox says. His words are muffled against the fabric of your shirt and the tears in his eyes. He struggles to catch his breath, so you rub circles along his back in your embrace. Vox swallows down a hiccup as you whisper and shush comforts. He continues speaking as he clutches you. “Call me Vox. I love you too much to pretend we’re not equals.”

You brush aside a lock of hair and kiss his forehead. “My darling Vox, then. It would be my pleasure to be yours in immortality. Now and forever, and with every bone in my body, I pledge myself to you. I love you.”

“No pledges, either, Reader.” Vox rubs at his eyes. His voice still wavers, but it’s more controlled now. “I mean it. We’re more than master and servant could ever be.”

“That… is new.” Your eyes cast downward, even as Vox is still in your arms. “But not unwelcome. I’m just surprised you think of me so highly.”

“The best thing that’s happened to me,” he repeats. “Truly, the best thing. We’re demons. I’ll have you know you have my utmost loyalty just as much as you pledged yours to me in our lives before this current time.”

“I see. Is there a ritual, then? Or a ceremony, as the time before my death?”

“No rituals, no ceremonies.” Vox loosens from the hug. He presses a gentle fist against your chest, where your heart beats. “We don’t use titles. We just act on it. We show what we feel.”

“I fear I have a lot to learn about ‘acting on it,’” you admit. 

“We have all the time in the world for you to learn.” He dives back into your embrace, but now his lips are flush to your ear, and he whispers a secret only you can hear. “Think about it this way: in the past you were mine to control. You still are.” Vox’s voice grows deeper. The rumble sends shivers down your spine. “But now, I’m yours.”

“Y-you must not toy with me like that, Vox…”

“It’s the truth. I’m a wreck without you.”

“Then I’m flattered to be the one to keep you together, my darling.” 

Vox lays a kiss right below your ear, and when he parts away you take a chance. Your hands clutch around his jawline and shoulder as you aim for his lips. Hellfire awaits you. You’ve always detected the heat that courses through Vox every time you touch him, but it all falls into place with the infernal life behind your kiss as well.

No secrets are left uncovered. Vox leans into you, a testament to his dedication. His tears dried long ago, and as you kiss him, you swear to no one but yourself; as many times as he cries, you always want to be the one to help him smile again. He would do the same for you, no doubt. He always has. 

Equals, you think. Vox’s hands clutch around your neck as the kiss continues. You’re someone he can depend on. I would go anywhere beside him.

There’s no other world you’d rather be. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[fuck-customers]

Names changed.

Buckle the fuck in.

I have been wanting to tell anyone about this series of events at work. The story doesn't start with me, an ex-coworker who was a Lead and was the one who checked in Julius the dog for a month-long stay. It is well known that his owner Mario is a bit of an Eccentric old Queen. He thinks he's a vampire and other shit. Whatever. He's checking his dog in and mentions he's going to Colombia to find a husband and do cocaine.

Okay go off, if I were retired and lonely I'd probably do something similar. I know he's lonely because every time he comes in he starts the same conversation about how all his family is dead and he's single.

Clearly, he's a bit out there, but if I was a retired old gay like him I'd have some fun too. Whatever. The owner calls our partnered trainer for a few sessions. A few weeks go by and for the third training session, he's not answering. Really weird for him, but we chalk it up to him avoiding roaming fees.

Our trainer finishes his allotted training since he didn't answer to add more. She calls multiple times for 3 days, and she wants the extra money. This is very important.

We get a call from one of Julius's emergency contacts since s in South America saying that Julius is going to be staying for another 3 weeks, and now his stay is two months. Mario has to pay us the current total to prevent abandonment, Joe's friend gets the money wired and the stay is extended, he's using Facebook Messenger as his communication method. So it takes a whole day to do this Totally get it when I got back to my home country. I do the same with Whatsapp. This is normal, this is fine! We extended the stay.

Three weeks pass and we get another call from the same agent, Julius is staying one more night, and Mario's flight got canceled. Annoying since the dog is nasty and a pest (affectionate) but we extend the stay.

He comes in to pick up his dog the next day straight from the airport (not that far it's maybe 20 minutes away). He starts chatting with the Manager, Assistant Manager, and me. He's talking about drinks food, and hotel price. He keeps making a point about the currency exchange rate. USD to COP. So cheap to him. The Assistant and I eye each other we're both Latino so this is annoying.

Then he starts ranking about how he hired security to escort him through all the major cities of the country, Medellin, Cali, and Bogota. All with heavily armored guards.

Our computers start fucking up so the invoice has to be inserted manually, my Manager does it. This is when he starts talking about how dangerous it was in Colombia, how that's why he hired guards ( he had pictures, lots of them, lots and lots). Now I'm uncomfortable. Colombia isn't as dangerous as he's making it out to be, normal people live normal lives and tourism is huge!

By then I'm praying to Jesus and his baby daddy too, as he admits to drunk driving and running over a dog. Then he starts calling the locals whores? How everyone was pimping out their kids and everyone and their mother were forced into sex work because of poverty. Everyone was greedy and envious. I'm trying not to leap over the counter and beat the shit outta this guy.

Then he starts talking about how the main purpose of his trip was to go find a husband. He was proposed to by 2 guys, he showed us the rings (ugly as the man wearing them) and emphasized again how "they were all so fucking greedy". How everyone wanted to talk and be near him because he was popular and had money.

I try to veer the conversation away from that but he goes back to the shit load of drugs and sex he had. My Assistant manager leaves around here.

Now for the pièce de résistance.

He starts detailing how he got KIDNAPPED by a "family" (I'll sell my left kidney if they actually were a real family)

He was fucking ransomed for 7K USD and proceeded to explain that he was kept subdued with sex. This explains his mystery absence and random ass extension AND how his friend was the only one who could be contacted. As well as the obscene amount of money paid in full to extend Julius's stay. This guy is fucking loaded and he was showing it off so much that someone noticed he's as stupid as they come and kidnapped him.

Sweet baby Jesus. But it gets worse.

He shows us proof. He sent his guards away because he wanted to have sex with a 20-something-year-old. By now he's showing off pictures of all the men he had sex with. Accidentally showed us nudes while showing off the cocktails he drank. And turns out! That the family had a father and son and he had sex with both of them. He implied a threesome. I suddenly wished I didn't know English.

I leave because I will laugh, and yell. I start asking my ancestors instead for guidance but instead they laugh as I am forced to back up front.

So I get to hear how he wants to move to Colombia. Apparently, he's moving there as soon as he sells his house here. Which….no words.

I go to the back again and work on cleaning rooms. Later when I go to the kitchen my manager is there and I make a comment about him. And here's the really fucked up bit, while he was explaining that he was both terrified and in love with his experience in Colombia my manager was like "Yeah I don't think I could go and have a time like yours" He looked her up and down, a willowy, average height blond blue-eyed white women in her 20s, and said "no way you be raped so bad" My hand went to my mouth I swore loud and she just shrugged.

This guy has a coke-fried brain, my god. Anyways, the dog just stayed with us again while he was in Colombia again, and luckily, we didn't have to deal with another checkout since he had his dog shipped over to Colombia via a company. Good luck to them both, and I hope the guy who marries him leeches him out of all his money and then some.