#I can’t put this elegantly sorry but someone will one day make a post about it and it’ll be amazing

[technoregression]

Hm.

fun fact!! it turns out that now when u make a new blog, tumblr forces you to follow 3-4 people before you can change your icon or modify your blog in any way!! this, of course, means that, yes, some of the "potential bots" many of us have been automatically blocking could have possibly been genuine new users who were only just seconds in to having an account!!! tumblr is literally screwing new users over!!!!

[vaire-gwir]

A Bit of Light, and a Touch of Dark

I wanted Darkolai and I wanted Nikolai on the throne, so I tried to give myself both. This story was supposed to be my very personal take on the grishaverse. Spoiler: it did not work, see notes under read more.

I have posted two snippets of this on my blog a while ago and I’ve been thinking about this story since then because I might be a bit obsessive 🥺 I planned to call it A Bit of Light, and a Touch of Dark, maybe Universes out of Bitten Lips and Broken Hands? I didn’t get as far as planning a title but knowing me it will probably be a song🙈🙈 

Now, after extensive debate with my three personalities, I have come to terms with the fact that I can’t write this thing. I want to, but it’s clearly beyond my very limited writing abilities. But, I have been writing a whole 6k of it and a few more snippets. And a couple of people went through the painful ordeal that has been reading and correcting them, honestly, it’s a miracle they didn’t tell me to fuck off (I love you so much, and I owe you big time ❤️ I cannot thank you enough for your patience and kindness 🥰)

Bit of a warning: I am very forgiving toward everything the Darkling ever did, I can justify anything with ��his intentions were good!” or “look at what he went through!”. You can try to talk some sense into me but I cannot guarantee it will work. Sorry.

Anyway, I will put it out here, and hopefully it will stop staring at me accusingly every time I open my drafts folder. It’s really 6k...pls be patient.

Enjoy? Let me know where I fucked up

*****

"I think it would be wise to not declare war on anyone before breakfast." 

The Darkling seemed annoyed by that comment as if he was counting on that to brighten up his mood. 

On most days, not killing anyone in this room is way beyond the amount of effort he is willing to put into the ruling of Ravka. It comes as a side effect of knowing he could efficiently solve any issue by destroying his enemies with a snap of his fingers. He doesn't have to negotiate and listen to these fools. There are better ways to use his time than waste it with ambassadors and diplomats with no intention to cooperate. 

"I can try to make it until lunchtime, but I'm not making any promises considering the present company. They hardly deserve to live." 

Nikolai leans over the armrest of the golden chair, throwing a meaningful look at the man sitting next to him. The Darkling keeps his impeccable posture, his back straight, long legs elegantly crossed, his feature schooled into an artfully crafted mask of indifference, hiding the annoyance, boredom, and irritation he must feel at the display before his black eyes. He never seems to be affected by his surroundings, always keeping his composure in every situation. Nikolai loves to see him crack a little, only in private, but it's a special privilege, even more than being King. 

He looks every bit the part. As if courts and politics were something engraved into his heart like the shadows and not something he acquired in time and out of necessity. He has often wondered where someone like Aleksander would have ended up if the world didn't hate him. Nikolai doubts he could even attempt to keep Ravka together without the General. Or, he could find a way, he's willing to do everything in his power and beyond for this country. He's just not sure he wants to try to rule without him. 

"You can't kill them just because you don't think they deserve to live."

"Mh. Are you absolutely sure?" Only the whisper of the words no one but the king can hear betrays his true feelings. That, and the fact that Nikolai learned to read him very well: a shadow fleeting through his dark eyes, reflecting the ones moving at the edges of the room where no one pays attention, an almost invisible crease at the corner of his perfect lips as he speaks, a shift in his voice. Maybe there are still traces of power in him, bright specks flowing through his veins, filling his core, constantly reminding him of its presence, that allows him to read Aleksander a little easier. Like calls to like, and they have always been more similar than they wanted to admit. 

"Positive, Sasha."

"Not even that idiot from Fjerda?" Aleksander says focusing his attention on the ministers of the court and ambassadors sitting at the table. Soon, they will make their demands, state their arguments, make promises they'll never keep, beg for help and give nothing in return. And above all, they will all stare at him with a particular mixture of hate, disgust, and disbelieve. Selfish, prejudiced, patronizing pricks. They're the worst. Ruining their kingdoms over squabbles and nonsense, refusing to see the reality right before their eyes. They need Grishas. They may not be alright with that concept, but the truth doesn't stop being true just because it makes some people uncomfortable.

Fjerda though, that's a different story. He finds it quite hard to trust a gesture of good heart coming from someone whose entire faith, life, and belief system is built on the conviction that a God anointed him to destroy someone else based on their alleged demonic nature. Aleksander was not a very religious person, he has never been. He finds it frankly offensive, that someone might be so easily convinced that a superior holy entity preaches slaughter because it is slightly bothered by a different power. 

Since Nikolai ascended to the throne, they barely used the actual throne room for the councils, Saints bless the boy for that. Now all the meetings happened in the Eagle's Nest, a recently redecorated dining room, where everyone could sit at the same table. It gave the appearance of being all equals, at least at a first impression. It doesn't take much to glance behind that facade, but it kept a few more people quiet, and Aleksander was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

There was much more Nikolai could do to keep people quiet, but at least on the surface, he had to make it look like he was doing this by the book. He didn't mind bending the rules a little, almost everything could pass for military necessity in times of extreme danger to the country and its people, but he didn't want to push his luck. Favours change too quickly, and Ravka cannot afford more wars. Some of the people in this room would be all too happy to see him fail. Many of them were looking forward to seeing his brother on the throne, a reliable puppet they could easily use for their advantage and manipulate towards whatever was more convenient. For them of course, not for the people of Ravka. 

Aleksander had never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why they all hate Grisha so much. They can hate him. He can be a monster if they need one, but why do they hate every single Grisha? He has proved to them time and time again that there are no other Summoners left with powers like him. There were once, but Kings and Generals throughout the centuries made sure to kill them all. Drüskelle were responsible for the slaughter of a good half of them, which was the reason why he had no love for the Fjerdans sitting at this table.

They fear every Grisha and think them evil because they do not understand their powers and refuse to use their little brains for once. And in deeming themselves superior, they arrogate the right to choose the good from the bad, who lives, who dies, who is worthy, who is nothing. 

He is used to those greedy, narrow-minded assholes judging him as if their hands were clean. It's just that some days it bothers him a little more. At least he always took care of matters personally, and he has only ever acted with the well-being of his kind in mind. These people that look down on him hide behind armies and titles and the lives of innocent men, too-easily convinced to lose it all for a kingdom that doesn't care about them. But they have never been on the front lines of the wars they dictate. They never cared about anyone but themselves.

Yet, he is the one with blood on his hands. The one they all fear above everything.

All but the golden child sitting on the Double Eagle throne. Too honest and genuine to be in this room. They have always fleeted around each other, since the first time Aleksander began suspecting of his potential. Perhaps a little too close than was deemed proper. 

Aleksander knows court life will ruin him too. Nothing good ever stays good in Ravka. This palace makes them all into liars and monsters, and murderers, and it's just a matter of time before the golden child changes too. 

"Especially not the idiot from Fjerda," Nikolai says shifting his attention back to the room. 

Aleksander notices he tries his best to act king-like and proper, but he has always been a man of action, something neither his lazy father nor his stupid brother was. He lacked the typical idleness and indolence of his family. Some of their stupidity too. He was still a child though, a bastard child that lost too much, stubborn, and too interested in his little escapades on his pirate ship. He paid the price of too many wars on his own skin, and he was now determined to avoid them at all costs. 

"Not that I would terribly mind, I have the feeling Jarl Brum doesn't like me very much. I might be wrong though, he's too busy staring at you and praying you spontaneously dissolve into nothingness," Nikolai adds shifting again on the chair as if he was restless, unable to sit comfortably on the much-desired spot he was occupying. 

"He has only tried to kill me twice in the past six months, I was almost starting to believe we were getting along." 

"He has what?!" Nikolai frets, whipping his head so fast more than a few people stare at him in confusion.

"Don't fuss. Not over me, and especially not here. You're a King now," Aleksander cautions him. "Act like one." He doesn't even look at him, he brushes an inexistent speck of dust from his black Kefta and resumes his study of the people in the room.

Nikolai quickly collects himself, taking a sip of his tea and masking his concern by putting his usual smile back in position. He knows he’s right. He waits until everyone has gone back to their conversations before turning to the Darkling again.

"Keeping secrets, are we, love?" 

Assassinations were old news in court. Such attempts usually occurred when someone decided to use creative methods to take over the desired position. In this particular case, nobody wanted Alexander's role. They simply didn't want <i> him </i> to have it. Many still didn't want to see Grishas in the palace, let alone have them occupying influential positions. 

However, that is not what bothers Nikolai. He knows perfectly well that Aleksander can take care of himself better than anyone in the entire country and beyond. It's the fact that he didn't tell him that doesn't sit right with him. He should know if someone tries to kill his lover. 

"If I had to mention every time someone tries to kill me, we'd talk murder non-stop,” the Darkling retorted. 

Something in his eyes softens slightly when he throws a quick look at the boy next to him, a different spark shines in those obsidian black eyes. 

"I'm fine. But I’ll send for you next time I have dead bodies to take care of if you insist." 

"Is this your idea of a perfect date? We'll go riding by the lake at sunset and dump dead bodies into it? Charming. I'm only slightly concerned."

"Moi Tsar," Tolya interrupts their conversation with the sketch of a bow, "The Shu Han ambassador won't arrive, it's clear. The rest of the council is getting impatient." 

Nikolai and Aleksander share a look. The news doesn't come as a surprise. 

Aleksander predicted this, he tried to warn his King. He knows Shu Han too well. All they ever did was create chaos at the borders, never officially invading the country, but never retreating at the same time. They killed everyone who wandered too close to their frontiers, civilian or soldier, but they were particularly keen on targeting Grishas. And in a most gruesome way. The General stopped trying to send in soldiers after he got their heads back. He didn't know them well, but they trained here, they had friends in the Second Army, hopes and ideas like everyone else.  

Leaders and Ambassadors of the Shu Han nation never openly admitted they were at fault. At first, they attempted to blame the Kerch, after that, the only answer Aleksander received was that the situation at the borders was unstable beyond their control and that rebels and mercenaries have always been in the business of murder. They were not sent by Shu Han nor did they respond to its government. 

Aleksander could almost believe that the Kerch were responsible for the bloodshed, but their ambassador was standing right in front of him, while Shu Han didn't even bother attending the meeting.  

"Yes, Tolya, let's begin." 

The King too was worried. 

*****

"How do you do it? I don't think I'm made for councils." 

Nikolai closes the door behind his back and leans on it for a moment. 

When he decided to include all neighboring nations and states in the meeting it seemed a great idea. But this was three months ago, when he still believed the first council after the Civil War could represent the time to start debating peace instead of another war. Then the news of the skirmishes at the Shu Han borders came, and soldiers of the Second Army started to go missing. To make it worse, they owed a formal apology to the Kerch ambassadors for suspecting them to be at fault. Earlier it became crystal clear that the Shu Han nation had no intention of settling for peace. And Fjerdans were trying to kill his lover. Again.

Now all that was left of his bright idea was the nagging feeling of wasting time, a sensation impossible to ignore, it lays in his path like a stone and he keeps tripping over it every two steps. When he longed for change, this is not what he foresaw. 

"Nonsense. You're doing great. No one is bleeding or dead. Yet."

Aleksander barely lifts his eyes from the letter he's reading, but he knows the feeling that oppresses the King, he has been all too familiar with its weight for all his years of service. He understands his concerns. He warned him again over breakfast not to get his hopes high. The Shu Han nation has been doing the same thing for centuries. They have always treated the war with Ravka like another one of their scientific experiments. Every new campaign was a test to be repeated as many times as necessary to get the results they needed. To a small degree, Alexander admired their scientific advancements. Just not when their methods applied to dissecting and experimenting on humans. 

The last time he lead a campaign against the nation they were hoarding Grishas to use them as test subjects for their latest experiments. Nikolai claimed he had no memory of that war. Aleksander answered sometimes he too wanted to have no memory of what he saw, but remembering keeps him focused on what needs to be done to make sure such atrocity toward his kind never happens again. 

"Splendid. The greatest achievement of a council that was supposed to find a way to work together for peace is that no one is dead. Yet."

Aleksander finally raises his eyes from the letter he's writing to stare at the king pacing the length of his study. 

"It is not your fault Shu Han didn't come, Nikolai."

Not for the first time, Aleksander notices how out of place Nikolai looks in his private, dark quarters, where everything, from the marble floor to the intricate brocade pattern on the wall was in shades of black. The table he was using for his correspondence was ebony with touches of gold, like the rest of the furniture. The curtains moving in the light breeze were a deep shade of indigo, even the armchairs, and divans that littered the path the King kept walking were either dark grey or a crimson so deep it looked black.  

And Nikolai, Nikolai who never stays still for long, even in his sleep - Aleksander had plenty of time to study his night habits - looks as bright as the sun in this room. He wouldn't be surprised if the boy starts bleeding white the next time he's wounded. His powers might be gone, but the light is still there.

When he sits in court he's constantly tapping his fingers, playing with his rings, bouncing his leg, or shifting on his throne. Another child-like habit that made him look too young, too innocent to rule this court of vultures and jackals. Perhaps it's the light that draws him in, the brightness, the innocence, the things he can't have. There was another one, as bright as the sun too...

"Why? What are they trying to prove? That they can force my hand into a public act of war? I will not fall for that. How much more bloodshed does it take to stop?"

Despite the military training and everything he's been through, he is still too soft at the edges, convinced people can improve and grow. But Aleksander has been on this earth long enough to see that men only grow in their cruelty and their endless desire for more power, more kingdoms to submit, more people to control. There is no improvement in them, there is only indifference, contempt, and hatred. They don't think change is necessary because they are fine the way they are. If the rest of the world burns, it's simply not their problem. 

As King of Ravka, Nikolai won't live long enough to see the death of his illusions, which is a small mercy in itself. 

"You fail to grasp a basic concept. You are willing to do whatever it takes to make this country a better, safer, place for everyone. You. Those people, in that room, they couldn't care less. War is an opportunity, one that is a crime to miss. That is all they see." 

"I was under the impression that slaughtering the innocents was a crime in the eyes of the Saints," Nikolai argues finally stopping in his tracks.

"The innocents, Moi tsar?" The Darkling answers lowering his papers, almost amused by the King's naivete. "Where are these innocents you speak of? Show me an innocent man and then maybe we'll talk." 

The days of councils are long enough without this boy blindly heeding his emotions. Aleksander has little to no patience for that. He already put up with clueless advisors and useless ambassadors, he doesn't need a child's tantrum. Kerch and Fjerdan ministers have been problematic enough, with all their mindless chattering about the loyalty of the Second Army. He has been on edge for the better part of the day and it's only early afternoon. 

It always comes down to that: Grisha and their loyalty, and what can be done to improve and use the Second Army more efficiently, as if those lives didn't matter, not in the same way at least. 

Nobody understood the kind of lives Grishas had to live. They had not seen the witch hunters going from door to door, burning houses, barns, and shelters on their way, they haven't seen people selling out their neighbours for a few copper coins. Things take a different perspective if you wake up one day with the sting of smoke and burning flesh in your nose, recognizing the baker or the farmer's son in the pile of smouldering flesh in the main square, knowing you'll be the next. Aleksander learned to never stay in the same town for more than three months before he could grasp the idea of home. He was still a child when he realized they had been found guilty before anyone had even trialed them. They existed, and it was more than enough as a crime.

Nikolai has not been through that. He has known loss and trouble, but he found out about his powers late in his teenage years and had always hidden them. And while that's another small mercy, for Aleksander wouldn't wish that kind of fate on anyone, it makes it easier for him to wish for peace at all costs. 

Eventually, the golden king will have to come to terms with it. Nikolai can wish for a future without wars and bloody battles, but Aleksander has always been a practical man. Dreams don't make for successful plans, and they don't keep people from being slaughtered. 

As General, and as someone who has been on this earth for centuries, he knows that the things he must do for his country, and the things he's expected to do, very seldom agree. Perhaps it is foolish of him to expect that Nikolai will see that difference. 

"There might be a tragic lack of them in this palace," Nikolai sighs.

"Thank you, it's all much easier when you recognize I'm right. Can we go back to planning this war now or do you want to further discuss the nature of innocence in..." 

"You make it sound like a crime," Nikolai interrupts suddenly irritated, turning toward the General. "You say 'innocence' like it's offensive to you, the fact that there can be someone less tainted and corrupted. Yet when the Second Army is involved you're quick to change your mind and believe some lives are suddenly worth saving. Do you measure the worth of life only by its loyalty and to whom?" 

When Nikolai realizes the weight of his words, it's too late. He's exhausted and upset, frustrated by his momentary helplessness and the persistent feeling that there's more he should do, and he's taking it out on the only person that would listen. He should know better.

The Darkling raises to his feet in a swift motion. Something flickers in his black eyes and the shadows grow with him, crowding the corners and threatening to swarm in and engulf the room. 

The movement is barely perceptible, and to less trained eyes, all that's happening is an invisible breeze making a few candles flicker, but Nikolai notices. He's not afraid of them, he learned to not fear the power for it lives inside him too, but it is an undeniable display of the gravity of his words. Aleksander never loses control. 

It lasts only a second, then the lights flutter, and the darkness is gone. 

"I don't see why you should discuss the ruling of your  kingdom with someone like me then. We both have things to do to invest our time productively before the council is resumed." Aleksander keeps his voice intentionally devoid of any emotion, straining his control to keep at bay his anger - and was that disappointment he felt? How silly, he shouldn't be so affected by mere words.- 

"What? Wait, that came out wrong, I didn't mean...Aleksander!" Nikolai reacts a second too late, when the Darkling is already walking out of the room, and he's left blinking stupidly, calling after the man he loves and has just hurt. 

*****

Aleksander's tolerance of stupid ideas is particularly low at the moment. It's his fault, he shouldn't let shallow remarks get to his head. He has to get a grip of himself. Between the council, his disagreement with Nikolai, and Fjerdans getting on his nerves, he doesn't put it past himself to accidentally-on-purpose cut the next idiot that suggests sending more troops from the Second Army to the border. Or mutters the word 'witch'. 

It's stupid, and incredibly naive of him to let Nikolai's words affect him so. Four hundred years and some and he gets disappointed by a child? He's too old for crushes. And his position in court is precarious enough. He has served Lantsov Kings for centuries, and it always ended the same way. Perhaps his first mistake was believing this one was the opposite of his family. He is the one who put Nikolai on the throne because he trusted him to do things differently. To do things right. Correct centuries-old wrong. But trust always gets him in trouble. Trust pushed him into a frozen lake when he was thirteen and put him in the middle of a Civil War four centuries later.  

I'll find a way. 

He has heard Nikolai affirm that more times than he can count. And the determination in his voice and the storm shining in his green eyes convinced even him that he was really going to find a way to make things better.

Aleksander was not the kind of person easily persuaded by bold words and sparkling eyes. But in all the years they fleeted around each other, Nikolai had always listened to him talking about changes. He often mentioned a time before the hunts when all men were equals, Grisha and Otkazat'sya alike, and Nikolai didn't laugh in his face like everyone else. Instead, he claimed that he'll find a way to bring back justice. 

The boy was an idealist. A romantic, in love with hopeless cases. He dreamt of flying ships when he was a child, then he dreamt of change and fairness. 

But Aleksander had seen him drawing, sketching, planning his flying ships, ink-stained hands, and charcoal smudging on paper. He would show him what he worked on, thrilled and beaming over his project, delight flashing in his green eyes as he talked as quickly as humanly possible. He'd wave his hands around as if he was describing parts of an actual ship physically existing in the space between them, and not one he was tracing from memory. He wore his innocence on the sleeves of his green coat, and Aleksander has distinct memories of late afternoons in that pavilion, convinced that one day this boy will have his flying ships. There's nothing he cannot achieve if he puts his mind to it. Is that why he fell so hard for him and his dreams?

When Nikolai started to talk about change, and justice, and improvement, he did so in the same way he'd chat about his vessels. And Aleksander believed him again. 

He believed in the boy before he even knew of his powers. For reasons he cannot grasp, the golden child has the same effect on him as using his powers. It feels like answering a relentless call. As if something was tugging at his core, pulling on him, and it's impossible to ignore. Suppressing it hurts him just like repressing their powers damage Grisha. He can't and he does not want to ignore it. The darkness is inevitably drawn to the light.

Aleksander knew that getting close to him was a mistake. But his glowing resolve, that he couldn't ignore. It burned so bright and so close to everything he worked hard to achieve. 

When Nikolai ascended to the throne, he felt like he had finally been able to ditch the weight of service. He was not serving anymore, this was more than a job. He shared an idea with someone, and he was working for him, with him, to make it come true. To make things better. For everyone.

But he knows it will come a time when whatever bond they share will pay the price necessary to keep the country from tearing apart at the seams. It seems that moment has come sooner than he anticipated.

He straightens himself just in time to find Ivan dismissing an Oprichniki and asking him again if he's sure he only wants two guards. 

"Yes. I need everyone else to be ready." 

Ivan inspects the room again for the umpteenth time. 

"It is not safe. Half of the people in this room tried to kill you. The other half is just waiting for an occasion."

"I know. I'd rather have everyone else prepare. We might have to leave in a hurry."

The look in his black eyes it's unmistakable, Ivan has seen it enough times to know what it means. 

The majority of the council will press for war. And when that happens, it's not the First Army that will be sent to the front lines.

"Are you certain then?"

Aleksander hesitates for a second. He cannot see Nikolai's decision with clarity. 

"No. Nothing is certain until the King decides so. In the meantime, we can both hope for the best if it makes you feel better, but it will be of little help. I want to be prepared for the worst."

Ivan nods once and resumes his position. He relies on this man over everything. The Darkling didn't make it this far hoping for the best. Neither did he.

*****

 When the council resumes in the afternoon, Nikolai is surprised to see Aleksander already sitting impeccably at his seat. He looks flawless as always, like nothing happened. As if Nikolai didn't spend the better part of three hours scouting the palace searching for him. He would have been disrespectfully late, if Zoya hadn't found him wandering near one of the laboratories. Nikolai is pretty sure she spent the walk back to the palace scolding him in various and creative ways, but he wasn't paying attention. It didn't even occur to him that Aleksander had never left the palace grounds. 

But of course, General Kirigan would never fail his duties and miss a council. His absence would raise suspicions, people would ask questions better left unanswered, and he can't take that risk. 

It's also a very convenient way to get out of the inevitable confrontation between them. Nikolai can't address whatever happened earlier in front of the court. 

Clever. 

The man appears to be in deep conversation with Ivan, who just dismissed a Oprichniki, and stubbornly refuses to meet his eyes. 

When Nikolai finally sits down, the room is considerably less crowded than it was in the morning. If anyone else felt the tension mounting, they all have enough brains to keep their mouths shut, but it was undeniable that this meeting was taking a very different turn. 

Except for Ivan, Zoya, and a couple of Oprichniki from the Darkling's guard, no other Grisha remained at the council. He mentally kicks himself again for his stupidity. He doesn't have time to ask why Aleksander dismissed them, but the General is always three steps ahead of everyone else. He must have had a good reason to send them away. Reason he would have shared, if Nikolai hadn't been busy acting like a child and pouring his frustration on him. 

Nikolai wanted to dismiss them all immediately and talk to Aleksander alone, the need to apologize gnawing away at his core. He doesn't want to leave things like that between them but he still has a country to rule. He doesn't have the luxury of time.

He may be King in title, but sometimes, most of the time, he's just a man. Specifically, a man that fucked up and wants to apologize to the one he loves without worrying about the country falling apart like some fine china someone dropped from the shelf if he takes the afternoon. Apparently, privacy was too much to ask for in the Palace.

*****

The majority of any council the Darkling ever had to attend in his decades had been spent bickering and squabbling. Everything, from the military expense to the borders, from the training of the recruits to the budget, even the affairs and balls of the court had to be discussed in way more words any person with common sense would use. And every single one of these issues was always inevitably reduced to the elephant in the room: Grisha and their role in society and military. It was the preferred topic whenever someone needed a scapegoat: the expenses and the stretched budget were because money was wasted on and by Grishas in the court, problems at the borders were caused by the constant river of Grisha coming to seek shelter in Ravka, military issues were caused by the presence, or the lack, of Grisha soldiers on the front lines. And as a direct consequence in the eyes of these ignorant fools, everything came down to the one they considered responsible for these Grisha. 

Aleksander suspects more than one person in the room would throw a ball if Grisha disappeared off the face of the land. Many had interesting ideas on how to make that happen. 

"Moi Tsar, I understand your...Chancellor has an army at his disposal that can be used in case of an inevitable attack."  

The Darkling has to refrain from rolling his eyes at the disdain and mockery in the Kerch ambassador's voice. So much contempt for someone who just admitted they need help. He tries to keep his stony self-control, but he doesn't appreciate the direction of this conversation. They are always so cautious when it comes to dispatching their men. Saints forbid they extend the same courtesy to Grisha.

"I'll go. I can take care of Shu Han on my own, there is no need to involve any army."

Aleksander had a lot of time to think after he left Nikolai. War was inevitable, stupid, but imminent. All their councils and meeting and dancing around the issue were only postponing a story already written. It was pointless to waste the lives of people on this issue when it could easily be solved. Aleksander didn't mind doing something awful. And if he also immensely enjoy the idea of laying waste to Koba and watch the ruins, well, that's just a side bonus. 

"No. That is out of the question." Nikolai stares at him with his expression caught between warning and pleading.  

"Why? It is Grisha they are targeting the most." Aleksander doesn't hesitate before countering, meeting the King's hazel eyes for the first time.   

"And who can guarantee us you won't come back with an army?" A tall man clad in a grey uniform all but glowered at Aleksander as he spoke.  

"An army of what? Starving women and children? What do you fear these people will do, Commander, steal your dinner? Because I can hardly imagine that someone who has been left to die on the streets, hunted, and on the run, has the power to do much more than that."  

Aleksander's hate for the Fjerdans is endless, a constant presence under the surface. He has seen things he can't forgive. It is insulting to have these men in council, yet Nikolai insisted on inclusion. But the King had never seen first hand what happens in the Ice Court, he hadn't witnessed the so-called fair trial, he hasn't seen people being executed for the sole crime of existing.  

"But power they have nonetheless, and there's no assurance you won't turn on us."  

"Commander, you will watch your tongue. I won't tolerate this kind of talk in my council." Nikolai holds his gaze until he sees the Commander cautiously lowering his eyes. 

It was his decision to have the Fjerdans here, but he's quickly regretting it. He can still sense Aleksander tensing at his side, his powers simmering below the surface as he restrains himself from any action that will get them all in trouble. He's about to add something, but Aleksander already warned him about being too open in public. People despise him enough without thinking he's the King's most inappropriate fling in the long history of ill-suited lovers in the Lantsov family.  

"I must insist though, except for a few skirmishes and fights, no act of war worthy of this name has been made by Shu Han. An attack on them will be the perfect excuse to set a plan in motion. I understood you wanted to avoid war, Moi Tsar, not handle it to them on a silver platter," a Fjerdan minister interrupts.  

Nikolai rolls his eyes as he answers: "And what else is bloodshed in time of peace, if not an act of war, ambassador?"  

<i> Next time it could be you receiving the heads of your people with the evening post. I'm sure that would raise a few questions in Fjerda about what's an act of war. </i> As General, Aleksander knows his answers have to be precisely sketched and he never speaks out of place, but as a person with very little to no patience, in the privacy of his own mind, it would be so satisfying to watch one of his nichevo'ya kill this idiot.  

"We all know it is high time someone puts Shu Han in its place," the Kerch ambassador begins again "Why not send this so-called army to clean the border?"

"I agree. War cannot be avoided," the Apparat surprisingly chimes in with his dusty voice. "If they are so powerful they surely can win over a band of rebels and mercenaries. And if they are not...well, then I don't see why the precious resources of our country should be wasted for such a useless purpose."  

"Useless, priest? The King's army is not an expendable commodity," Aleksander knows he should watch his words, but it's butchery of  his  kind this man preaches so lightly, and that is not something he can accept. "And I shall remind you, this so-called army you speak of has already proved invaluable to you and everyone else in this room."  

"The King's army, or yours, Darkling? Weren't you the one who paraded around flaunting the greatness of this army in front of this very same council at every given occasion?" 

There's more than arrogance and contempt in the Fjerdan's voice this time, it's the voice of someone testing the waters, stretching the line as much as he can, and waiting to see how long it takes to snap. Aleksander had met men like him, there's one in every court. He's not here to secure peace in the country, he's only here to ensure he can pick the winning side.  

It suddenly dawns on him that they are all here to test the waters. They do not care about the struggle at the borders, none of them is here to find a way to stop the fights with Shu Han. They are putting out a feeler question, this is no more than an excuse to pry into Ravkan affairs. What he can't understand is why the Apparat is backing this charade. 

"And will you all support this army we are to send?" Nikolai asks, much to the General's disbelief. He didn't expect the King to agree. The boy is smart enough to see through this nonsense.

"Of course, Moi Tsar. We will do our part, as always."  

Aleksander knows that's a lie. The question is, does the King know too? 

He watches Nikolai nod and zones out for a moment, missing a few unimportant exchanges. For all his softness, the King agreed all too soon to send Grisha into another futile war. Whatever happened between them earlier cannot be enough for Nikolai to doubt him. It could be that the King is testing loyalties, yet if Nikolai had any suspicions about his support he likes to believe he wouldn't use a war council to dissipate them. That's not how it works between them, Aleksander strengthened his claim to the throne because he thought Nikolai would be different from his father and brother. With the golden child on the double-eagled throne for once, Ravka would have a king interested in the well-being of its citizens, all of its citizens, not only the Otkazat'sya ones. Or so he believed.

Could it be that whatever personal feelings he had for Nikolai blinded him to the point of making such a mistake?  

Coming back to his senses, he searches the room for a friendly face. Ivan is at his side in a heartbeat.  

"If this is the council decision," Aleksander interrupts a woman with the sharp, black eyes of a wolf. "Then I have troops to prepare. You must forgive me."  

Bowing his head slightly, the Darkling stands up and excuses himself, finding it very hard to remain in the room any longer.  

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 11 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Kathryn gets news that effect your newly blossoming relationship.. or… whatever it is.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Hello everyone. I am pleased to announce that I finally finished this chapter and am very much excited about where this story is going from here. I hope you all still enjoy. Last week, I got asked to create a tag list and if anyone wants to be on it as well, just hit me up and you'll never miss a posting again. Thank you all for still being here, here we go! <3

Tag List: @danvers97

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You scrunch your nose as the sunlight hits your face and repeatedly blink our eyes upon the blinding sunbeam coming in through the half opened curtains. Slowly opening them, you find yourself in a bright room with high walls and take in the fresh breeze granted from the open windows and curtains right now.

Laying on your back, you close your eyes again before turning on your other side, as you realize you are, in fact, not alone in bed. Long dark hair is tickling your nose and you don’t need to think twice about who it might be, as the familiar scent of your crush hits you right away. Shocked, you move back a little. Too harsh and too fast, which is why you wake up the sleeping woman next to you and watch in awe as reality slowly gets her back. She is still in her clothes from last night and the little make up she wore is smudged around her eyes. It’s the most beautiful sight you have ever seen.

She locks eyes with you. “Good Morning, Sweetheart. Seems like we fell asleep somewhere,” she winks, “I’m gonna go fetch change and fetch us some breakfast to eat outside, yeah?”

With that she is already sitting up and about to leave the bed as you are still busy comprehending the situation that you found yourself in. Realizing the confused state you are in upon seeing the look on your face, she laughs. “Yes, I get up that quickly most of the time. I get it. It’s unsettling. But work made me adjust to getting as much sleep as possible by not spending time just laying around. It’s sleep, wake, work for me.” 

Laughing again, she walks past the bed and reaches for the door handle. “See you in the garden in about 30 minutes? Take your time and let me know if you need anything before, though. Also… there is fresh towels and a toothbrush in the bathroom, if you wanna take a shower. Feel  right at home.”

With that, she leaves the room and you stare at the closed door for a few seconds before finally stretching your body. You don’t know how to put the whole situation into words yet, but you reach for your phone to text Alex about what happened. Obviously, it would be faster and probably also more effective to call and actually talk to her but it would seem too real and you can't do too real just now.

Simply texting her what happened somehow feels less intimate than calling. It just feels less real. And that will have to do for now. Plus, Kathryn might come back any moment and you don’t want to just confront her with your friends.

It takes you a while to find the right words, so you put your phone down for a minute to put yesterday’s clothes back on and simply brush your teeth because you have decided to skip the shower since you took one just the day before.

After a while and multiple times of rewriting the message, it seems as if you put all the information in there that Alex would be interested in and you hit send, anxious for your best friend's response. Suddenly, there is a knock on your door. 

Kathryn’s head pops up in the door frame. “How do you like your coffee, Y/N?”

“Uuuuhm. I don’t actually know. I guess I just drink whatever my mom has in the pot? I’m not picky.” You scratch your head as a deep frown appears on your forehead.

Kathryn smiles softly. “Alrighty then. I’m nearly done in the kitchen. You could come help me take everything outside, if you want. That's all.”

You immediately jump from the bed to walk towards and help her, sliding your phone into your back pocket. Entering the kitchen, you can tell Alex has read the message and is frantically reacting to it. The vibration caused by her messages makes you anxious and, as clearly as you can hear them, you hope Kathryn doesn’t.

Ignoring the buzzing, you walk behind her and help her set up the table, admiring her silhouette. The sun is hitting her hair in a way that makes it appear to have a golden shimmer and the long white summer dress she put on for the day flows in the light wind that’s circling the backyard. You can see her back muscles move as she walks and watch as she elegantly makes her way through the house.

She turns around and catches you staring at her. “Like something you see?” She winks.

Embarrassingly, you simply continue the staring and open and close your mouth just like a fish until she laughs. “Calm down, sweetheart. You look very nice yourself and I certainly enjoy catching a glimpse or two of you.”

Take a breath. You like flirty Kathryn. Whenever she teases you, she is so very much different to the Kathryn you thought you’d meet back in the bar just a while back. Never would you have thought to get that lucky. Caught up in your thoughts, you miss how she bites her lips looking at you, barely, but long enough so you could’ve noticed, and her eyes momentarily move down to your lips.

As she catches your attention again, asking for the plates in your hands, her pupils are slightly widened and she brushes your fingers for a short moment. The tension gets broken by a loud noise coming from your pocket.

You both know the sound and look at each other for just a few seconds before you finally react. Taking out your phone and looking at it, you slightly panic as you see Alex’ name calling as you look at yourself on the screen. 

“Oh… it’s my best friend.” You say and it’s been quite a few seconds now and you still haven’t reacted. Usually, when moments like this happen, Alex puts the phone aside and does something else until you eventually pick up or the call ends.

This time, you forget about that and simply watch and completely forget to react as Kathryn reaches out, takes the phone from your hand and answers the call herself. As feared, Alex is already busy doing her make up - she is going out for dinner tonight - and is not paying attention to the phone at all as she can't really see the screen given to position she is in right now.

“MADAME GURL. I can’t believe you are not reading my fucking messages, like, how dare you ignore your highness,” she laughs from afar as she puts eyeliner on. You know she will look down any second now and don’t dare to move or speak. “No really, I need you to-“

She stops speaking. She drops her make up. Her mouth falls open. You can basically hear and see her heart sink to her knees. “To… to… I mean… I need her to uhm… call me back. Yeah. Call me back.”

“Good Morning!” Kathryn grins.

“I-… good morning, Ms Hahn.” Alex is now frantically fixing her hair that she had opened right when she realized she was talking to Kathryn.

“Call me Kathryn, honey. Kathryn is just right. And you are?”

You can tell Alex is about to pass out “Alexandra. But more like Alex. Alex is just fine.”

“It suits her better anyway.” You chime in from off the camera, just as you just got your self confidence back.

“BISH! Uhm, I mean.. Y/N!” Alex catches herself and the two of you make Kathryn laugh wholeheartedly.

She hands the phone back to you and starts moving back to the house. “I’ll leave you two to it for a moment and get the coffee. It was nice meeting you, Alex. Let me know if you need anything else, Y/N.” She smiles before she sends you a short wink as the camera is facing you again.

“DUDE.” Alex is close enough to her phone now that her whole face fills the screen.

“I KNOW.” You reply as you watch Kathryn walk through the hallway towards the kitchen.

Alex gets your attention back. “I thought you were still alone in bed, I’m so sorry. But like… oh my god. You need to fill me in. Like. OH MY GOD.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I will definitely talk to you tonight, missy. And you need to like… I don’t even know.. get her. Like WOW. Have you SEEN her? I mean… wow.”

You smile, thinking back at last night. “Yeah, wow.” 

You see Kathryn making her way back through the hallway windows and look at Alex. “Honey, I will call or text you as soon as I get home, yeah? I love you, byyyyye.” And with that you hang up, not even awaiting a response, as Kathryn opens the door and steps out into the garden again.

“She’s cute,” She says as she makes her way to you. “Why’s she not your girlfriend?”

You stop for a moment and look at her. What an odd question to ask. Is she jealous? Does she want you to have someone else? What is this about? You’re probably overthinking right now, but still, a question like that right after meeting Alex doesn’t sit quite right with you. 

Brushing it off, you look at her and laugh. “She is married. That’s like… a big reason. Plus I adore her wife so… no no NO.” 

Kathryn chuckles. “I see. I’m sorry if this question was too direct. I was just wondering, since both of you are cute and… you know.”

“Yeah…” you say and Kathryn starts to realize that your thoughts are going places in your head right now.

She places a hand on your arm as you sit down. “Stop worrying. Alright? You are all good. It was a stupid joke. I’m sorry.” You know she means it and look at her thankfully as your smile finds its way back onto your face.

Breakfast is cute and calm as the two of you sit in comfortable silence and just enjoy each other’s presence. It’s a Sunday after all. The silence gets interrupted as Kathryn’s phone lights up and Jennifer‘s name appears on the screen. 

“Oh shoot.” She jumps up and takes her manager's call, walking away from the area.

You watch Kathryn gesturing wild as you sip your tea and can’t tell if she looks excited or stressed about what is being said on the phone. She finally hangs up and sits down across from you again. You want to ask what’s up but choose not to - she will tell you things if she feels like it after all.

Locking eyes with you, she sights before putting on a grin. “I got a new job.”

You can’t believe she really IS sharing information with you. “That’s amazing Kathryn! I am so excited!!!” You really want to ask her about more details but feel like it is not your place to do so.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” She doesn’t seem too convinced herself as she looks at you and you ask her about it by simply raising an eyebrow. “Well… it’s nice and all, but I’ll have to leave the country for a while. The movie gets shot in Europe and, to be honest, I have never really left the country that long for a job before.”

You appreciate how open she is with you and reach out to place your hand on hers. “I get that. And, I mean, I don’t even know what project you are working on. But, I really don’t need you to tell me what it is to know that it is gonna be just great.”

She smiles fondly and nods. “You’re right. It’s just…. You…,” locking eyes with you it seems like she is searching for words and reaches out for you to help her. “I really enjoy your company, Y/N and… you know.”

“I know.” You say and for a moment you think about kissing her. Just pulling her closer, next to you, onto your lap, anywhere really and capturing her lips with yours but somehow you feel like last night was last night and today is today. A different story.

“Really, Kathryn, it’s gonna be just great. Don’t worry about me.” You mean it and as your thoughts trail off and you ask yourself what project she might work on, you don’t realize how she is launching forward to pin you down on the side of the couch you are sitting on. It's one swift movement that you didn't see coming at all.

You open your eyes in shock and start panting as you realize she placed her body and basically all her weight on top of you while holding onto your wrists. The look she is giving you now is different to every look she has given you ever before and her pupils are dilated. You lie underneath her in shock and you know very well that this very moment is everything you ever wanted, while at the same time there is so much you should talk about, so you can't really enjoy the moment right now.

"Kathryn, I…" You start, but she is already removing herself from you.

"I know! I know. I don't know what came over me. I guess I'll just miss you. A lot." A forced smile appears on her face and you wish you could comfort her, but really, you are just as hurt.

You feel like it's time to ask her what the two of you are exactly, test out the waters and see where she stands in all of it, but at the same time you feel like it is way too early and you don't really know why you are thinking about all of this in the first place and as you think about it more you can literally feel the panic setting in and you are probably overthinking but really, we are talking about Kathryn Hahn here, so really, where could this lead?

Right as Kathryn sits up and fixes her dress on her side of the couch again, her phone starts chiming endlessly as she is reaching for her coffee. Her hand changes paths and grabs the device instead and you watch her as she leans back into her cushions after shooting you an apologetic look.

"Oh no, OH NO. Oh no no no no no." She sits up straight again and swipes through her phone.

Worried, you sit down right next to her without looking at her screen to keep her privacy. "How can I help you?" She turns towards you and looks at you with kind eyes before placing her free hand on your upper side. "You are already doing a lot by grounding me, sweetheart. That's more than most people can do for me."

You smile cheekily and get more comfortable next to her after planting a short kiss on her cheek. "Happy to provide." She reacts differently than you anticipated because, given the situation that just happened, you thought she would be very much into the idea of you getting closer to her again. Instead, she is looking at you with sad eyes as she slowly lowers her phone to give you her full attention.

Your smile fades and you prepare for the worst, not knowing what makes her look this sad.

"Jennifer mailed. She made a mistake. It was a late booking. I will travel to the set in Europe by the end of the week. But cast and crew get together starts tomorrow. On the other side of the country."

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

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| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either. 

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short. 

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and 

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon. 

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!” 

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world. 

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another. 

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?” 

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

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jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together. 

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night. 

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this. 

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house. 

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.” 

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon. 

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place. 

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands. 

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land. 

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend. 

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding. 

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people. 

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.  

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words. 

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all. 

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

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gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.” 

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two? 

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over. 

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this. 

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.” 

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh. 

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice. 

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans. 

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.” 

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you. 

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose. 

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.” 

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change. 

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story. 

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight. 

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase. 

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too. 

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh. 

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win. 

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-” 

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie. 

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears. 

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

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stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt. 

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer. 

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided. 

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were. 

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles  repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing. 

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost. 

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls. 

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses. 

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction. 

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ”are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue. 

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you. 

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed. 

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him. 

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.” 

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day. 

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you. 

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you. 

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal. 

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter. 

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling. 

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up. 

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response. 

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber. 

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in. 

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face. 

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart. 

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead. 

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him. 

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied. 

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate. 

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look. 

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say. 

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup. 

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another. 

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting. 

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table. 

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach. 

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.” 

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail. 

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head. 

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.” 

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it. 

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment. 

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing. 

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards. 

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life. 

[dreamii-yume]

Hi! I'm loving your fics. Could we get some malleus x reader please? Maybe some breeding and size kink?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Malleus had already decided that Darling is the woman that he wanted to spend his whole entire life with. Huh? What do you mean that Darling has to go back home? That she’s not from this world? That she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings? Now, don’t be like that~! Don’t you think it’s lovely~? A life with one of the strongest magician in this twisted world would surely be a lot better than your previous one!

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

You sat on a lone bench in the peaceful land outside the Ramshackle Dorm, the gentle howl of the nightly breeze blowing on your hair so elegantly. Green fireflies decorated where you sat, their beautiful light was enough to illuminate what the old lamp post couldn’t. Before you were a tall young fae with pointed ears and a pair of menacing horns on his head. You almost strained your neck from looking up just to have an eye contact with him. His very appearance and size was intimidating, yet the rare gentle smile on his face holds a complete contrast to it all.

The moon was beautiful tonight, bearing witness to how your eyes had slowly widened at the information you have received from the horned fellow. “...Eh?” You blinked repeatedly, your ears somewhat refusing to acknowledge the meaning behind his words. “...Sorry, could you repeat what you just said?”

“I love you.” The fae patiently repeated his confession for you, word by word. His tone felt so practiced, like he had been waiting his whole life just to say it. “I want to spend my whole life with you and create a happy little family between us.”

Your mouth fell agape as you looked down, and to the side, before eventually going back to him. You fiddled with your sleepwear of a clothing, finding the right words to say. “...W-Wow...This is...This is a lot to take in, I...” You stuttered out as your cheeks burns in the shade of a bashful pink. “...Tsunotarou, I-I don’t know what to say really...”

‘Tsunotarou’ merely chuckled at your reaction, watching you chew on your bottom lip. A habit that he noticed you do whenever you’re nervous or in the midst of indecisiveness. He reached out and pat you on the head, stroking your hair in a comforting manner. “Don’t stress yourself too much, my little human. I can put our differences aside and love you for who you are from now on and forever.” He said, his eyes gazing at you lovingly. You felt the side of your mouth twitched upward, creating a small smile at how sweet his words were.

“...In return, I want you to be my wife and create a family with me. To spend our eternity caring for our young.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said, something that slowly wiped your smile away. You looked down once again, a sullen expression had replaced itself on your face. Of course, the horned fae had already spent too much time with you to notice the slightest bit of change in your mood, this was no exception. “...Why the long face, little one?”

You took a deep breath. “I-I’m flattered, Tsunotarou. Really, I am.” You said, smiling up at him. “You were the very first to confess to me like this. It’s very sweet and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“But...I’m sorry. I can’t accept your confession.” You gave him a serious look on your face. A single drop of sweat ran down the side of your head but you kept up your mask. It took a while for ‘Tsunotarou’ to give you some sort of reaction and even then, the most that you got was a slight flinch of the hand that was on top of your head. He no longer has a smile in his face, going back to his usual, stoic expression as he retracted his hand away from you.

“Explain.” He requested, but sounded more of a demand rather than an optional choice. You flinched at how stern his voice had suddenly turned, no trace of his sweet demeanor had remained.

“Were you...Were you in the entrance ceremony at the first day?” You asked him. “If you were there then, everything must’ve make sense to you by now.”

“I was not invited. I tend to never get invited into occasions such as that.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said, bitterly as he crossed his arms. You nodded, somehow you couldn’t help but feel really bad for the tall fae. “...What does that have to do with your rejection?”

“Then you must’ve at least known by now that I don’t have the tiniest shred of magic in me, right?” You said, trying to go slow for him so he could understand you properly. “The only reason I’m a student here in the first place is because I have Grimm with me.”

“...I do.” He said. “If this is the reason why you’re rejecting me, then know that I have no problems with having a child that has no affinity for magic. We can always-“

You quickly hold out your hand in front of you, frantically shaking your head, stopping him the moment he mentioned anything about having children. Your face flushed red, he was looking way into the future. “No, no, no...! That’s not the reason at all!” You protested. “It’s because I’m not from here, Tsunotarou!”

Now this caught ‘Tsunotarou’ off-guard, not expecting such reason to come out of your mouth. But then, with that sentence alone, he had already formulated a lot of solutions in his mind that could excuse such reason. “Not from here? You meant from Twisted Wonderland?” He said, raising his eyebrow. “Then, which part of the world did you come from? Surely, we can do something about your lineage.”

“...That’s the thing. I’m not from this world, Tsunotarou.” Your head held down, but your eyes glanced up at him with gloomy gaze. “I don’t have magic because I came from a different world. A world far different from Twisted Wonderland.”

“And I’m trying to go back.” You finished, finally stating your point. “Therefore, I can’t accept your confession. Because if I were come back to my own world, long-lasting romantic relationship with anyone in Twisted Wonderland is just pointless.”

You settled down, breathing out as ‘Tsunotarou’ in front of you stares with calculating eyes. He was always the difficult one to read, it was either he has great control over his emotions or he simply just doesn’t know how to react. Either way, you prayed in your mind that he wouldn’t become as unreasonable as you dreaded. Finally, he made a reaction, blinking as he straightened his poise. “...Is that it?” He spoke. “Is that your only reason why you’re rejecting me?”

You nodded with an audible “Yes”. Well, you were actually telling him about the other side of the spectrum, there was also the reason of you just not seeing him the same way as he sees you. What you feel for him was merely platonic as there weren’t enough time for you to gain actual romantic feelings for him. He was just a friend that you see every once in a while, after all, an acquaintance you happened to meet when the moon was out on its best. But you chose not to tell him that other reason as it would only add more salt to his wound. For now, you can give him the more logical reason, something anyone could understand.

Your horned friend closed his eyes before breathing out, he crosses his arms. “Then, just don’t.”

Now, it was your turn to be caught off guard. You blinked, repeatedly. “...Excuse me?” You asked, wanting to have a bit more content.

“Coming back to your own world is a choice, not an obligation. You don’t have to go back.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said in a straightforward manner, as if your problem was actually that easy to pull off. “If you were transported in this world then, wouldn’t that mean that there’s actually something you have to do in this world? Or the fact that this world might’ve actually been the world that you were supposed to belong to in the first place?”

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. All you have to do is stay and not worry about going home.” ‘Tsunotarou’ steps closer to your sitting figure. His tall and large figure quietly looms above you, causing a single nervous strand of sweat to drip from your forehead. His shadow alone was intimidating and his striking green eyes never dares to leave you, as if it was burning a hole into your soul. “We can be together without any worries if you could just forget about your previous life and start a new one.”

“Doesn’t that sound even more appealing?”

You stared at him wide-eyed, filled with bewilderment as you don’t even know how you were going to retort that. There was so many flaws and holes in that reasoning that you would like to point out, but just can’t find a proper way to start. In the end, you gave him a nervous laugh, trying to lighten up the atmosphere before eventually dropping the bomb on him. “Uh...T-That’s...That’s not...That’s not how it works, Tsunotarou.” You stuttered, your mind in shambles on how the hell you were going to explain this to the usually aloof and dense fae. “You’re essentially telling me to forget about my friends and family back in my world. You know I can’t do that!”

“They’re...They’re important to me. There’s no way I could...forget about them just like that!” You said. “I didn’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before getting transported into this world! They’re probably looking for me right now!”

In the midst of your desperate attempt to knock some sense into powerful yet dense magician, you failed to notice how his eyes narrowed down for a mere second. A rare sign of irritation spiking up in his features. “...And you think they’re still looking for you after all this time?” ‘Tsunotarou’ coldly states. “You arrived at this world during the entrance ceremony, correct? It’s been quite a while since that happened. Have you ever considered that they might’ve just given up on you by now?”

Now that was uncalled for, just absolutely unnecessary to say. You scrunched up your eyebrows together as you couldn’t help but be hurt at how insensitive his words suddenly became. What was his problem? He’s making it sound like no one cared for you in your own world. That you’re someone who your friends and family wouldn’t mind losing, a mere waste of space.

But still, you breathe out an exasperated sigh, bottling up your true emotion as you decided to become the mature one in this argument. You looked up with him with an assertive look in your eye, silently telling ‘Tsunotarou’ to not pressure you with nonsensical reasoning any longer. “...Look, I know you’re making it sound that easy but Tsunotarou...It’s really not.” You said, calming yourself down before standing up. “I don’t want this to become a big deal. You’re a friend, after all and I don’t like fighting with my friends for something so trivial.”

You dusted off invisible dust in your clothes and gave him your usual smile. “I’m ending this conversation, alright? This is for the sake of both you and I.” You said as your friend merely stared at you. “...Maybe you don’t understand right now. So, I’ll give you some time to do so. You weren’t in the ceremony as a witness, after all.”

“I’ll go back in my dorm now, Grimm probably fell of the bed again.” You giggled at the image in your head as you looked back at him with a gentle smile. You didn’t even know how that smile was the exact reason why your ‘Tsunotarou’ fell for you this hard. The exact reason why you didn’t notice how his eyes darken at your figure, his fist slowly clenching tight. “Goodnight, Tsunotarou...I...appreciate your feelings...”

Your voice suddenly slurred, an overwhelming feeling of wanting to sleep had suddenly wrapped itself around your very being. You suddenly felt like your balance was being stripped away from you, causing you to stumble a bit. “...B-but...I hope we can still...be friends...?” You ended up finishing your sentence with a question. It was unintentional and you didn’t know why. You looked up at ‘Tsunotarou’ who didn’t seem to be too bothered at your current behavior.

Your sight was beginning to blur, the horned fae in front of you was barely visible. Had his eyes always been glowing like that? There were dark spots in the corner of your eyes and your eyelids felt really heavy all of a sudden. “...Huh?” Came in your final word.

Finally, your eyes fall into a close as your body collapsed but luckily, ‘Tsunotarou’ was already there, ready to catch you. He ceased the green light emitting from both his eyes and his magical pen once he was sure you were deep in a slumber. He felt your body moving in synch with your breathing, his magic had done its job well this time again. Even in secrecy.

‘Tsunotarou’ carried your body in a bridal style manner, embracing your warmth against his chest.

“...No, my little human. You are the one who doesn’t understand.”

With that, the green fireflies that made the place brim with beauty disappeared as if they weren’t even there in the first place. Along with the all-mighty fae, lovingly caressing a fair, human being in his arms.

The moon was indeed very beautiful tonight. Illuminating upon the sacred place where love had reached a new level of commitment.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

WELP I currently have a lot of pending request! I’m gonna be closing off the request box for now, okay~?

[baepsaesbae]

Before (Heal Me, Kill Me Prequel)

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x OC named Maggie (thanks @kimtaehyunq)

Genre— SMUT, Angst, Vampire!Tae au, Victorian era au

Warnings— Explicit unprotected sex (but like pretty vanilla and loving), some violence and death

Word Count— 4.8k

Summary— Taehyung was a vampire with nothing but time and boredom on his hands. He’s going on his monthly feeding adventures when he comes across a rather peculiar prey. 

A/N— This was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away and made a full prequel oops. The Heal Me, Kill Me series will be posting starting in October! The pairing will be Kim Taehyung x reader so it’ll be the usual y/n stuff. Thanks for reading, feedback is always welcome~

It was a dark and stormy night. Ok, well it wasn’t stormy, but at least it was nighttime. The year was 1863. Taehyung made his way down to the sketchy part of town, eager for a meal. Opium was all the rage nowadays, but Taehyung despised it. It tainted people, making them even more unbearable than he thought was possible. He drew the line past alcoholics, though he still wasn’t fond of them. However, people were even easier to persuade with absinthe coursing through their veins. 

“Hey handsome, looking for some fun?” a woman approached him from the shadows, her knockers practically spilling out of her corset. She reeked of all sorts of carcinogenic substances. 

“Away with ye, painted Jezebel,” Taehyung shooed her away, and she instantly stood up straight and walked in the opposite direction with a clouded look in her eyes. 

It was hard to come by a decent meal these days. Unfortunately, sticking to the slums was his best option. No one cared if a poor commoner went missing. At least he only had to partake in such grizzly actions about once a month. Any longer than that and he’d be in big trouble (or more accurately, random people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time would be in big trouble).

Something caught Taehyung’s attention. He lifted his chin and took a deep inhale of a sweet aroma that wafted through the air. It was the scent of something he’d never dream of finding in the slums; an untainted individual. Untainted in the sense of a perfectly pure body, not once given into sinful indulgences. 

Taehyung quickly followed the smell, growing more excited with each step. Through the narrowly winding alleyways and past some rather alarming scenes, Taehyung did not stop. He could barely keep himself from salivating once he arrived at the source. 

There she was. A beacon of light in the dreary depths of a neglected corner of the world. Taehyung curiously observed her as she fluttered from body to body, carefully checking pulses and offering aid. He couldn’t help but scoff at her earnesty. There was no use in saving these people. They were beyond salvation. Yet, he silently watched her work as she hauled around her makeshift med kit. That was a mistake. The more he watched her, the more personal interest he took. 

After devising a plan, Taehyung was ready to make his move. He started at the opposite end of the street, intending to meet up with her somewhere in the middle. He crouched beside each body with an extended hand; random passerbys would see a well dressed man committing charity work out of the goodness of his heart. That was his intention, though he was merely hypnotizing each person into a deep slumber if they weren’t already passed out. 

“Are you looking for someone, sir?” the young woman piped up behind him.

“Not in particular,” Taehyung coolly answered as he stood up to face her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask what someone like you is doing in a place like this if you’re not looking for someone in particular?” she crossed her arms with distrust.

“Is it a crime to want to help out the less fortunate? What we’re doing doesn’t seem to be much different. May I ask what a young girl like you is doing out here all alone in the middle of the night? It can be very dangerous,” his deep voice resonated in the air. 

“Oh. You’re helping them too? I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean any harm. People like you just don’t really come down here unless it’s for certain unspeakable acts,” she bowed her head apologetically. 

“Unspeakable? You help the people who partake in such acts,” Taehyung observed keenly, “Why bring them aid?”

“If I don’t, no one else will,” the girl answered solemnly. 

“That simple hm? You seek nothing in return? Or is your vice that of self appointed importance?” Taehyung slowly approached the girl. 

“I help them because they need it. Because they’d die without someone like me,” the girl held her ground.

“How admirable. I’m impressed, young miss. Please don’t think I was insulting you, I’m genuinely fascinated by you. Would you care to accompany me for dinner?” he extended his arm to her ever so slightly. 

“It’s a bit late for dinner isn’t it?” she responded timidly. 

“I suppose calling it a midnight snack would be more fitting. Your answer?” Taehyung asked calmly, concealing his impatience. 

“Forgive my apprehension. I’m sure you’re a fine gentleman, it’s just that this isn’t a place one would normally find fine gentlemen. I’ll gladly join you for breakfast in the morning,” she countered.

Taehyung’s eye twitched with frustration, but luckily it was too dark for the girl to see it. He needed to feed. That night. 

“I’m not keen on breakfast meals. How about tomorrow evening, during normal dinner time hours? Unless you can’t skip a day of helping the helpless,” he suggested. 

“That would be fine,” the girl finally agreed, “Oh, and I never caught your name, sir.”

“Taehyung. Pleasure to meet you,” he bowed elegantly.

“I’m Maggie, the pleasure is all mine,” she curtsied awkwardly.

After hashing out the details. Taehyung reluctantly left her alone. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her jugular, but something held him back. His curiosity got the better of him, but after living for all these years it was hard for him to find something interesting. He figured it couldn’t hurt. 

Taehyung cursed himself as he tore into an unsuspecting victim who had passed out drunk on the street. He retched at the foul taste, but this is what he has had to resort to. He couldn’t afford to be run out of another country yet again. His more refined taste would have to be put on hold for the time being (oh how he missed the good old days when people feared him enough to bring pristine victims monthly).

Rain lightly tapped against the window that Taehyung gazed out of as he scanned the crowd for Maggie. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, though a single drop of her blood would tell him everything he needed to know. Of course, that wasn’t as entertaining as an old fashioned conversation.  

Maggie finally arrived, and the restaurant host escorted her to the table. Taehyung could tell that she made an effort to look presentable. He reasoned that she was wearing her finest dress, though it had a plain and rather boring look to it. Plus, she wasn’t even wearing a fancy hat, much less a bonnet. 

“Good evening, Mr. Taehyung,” she curtsied before she sat down.

“Good evening, Miss Maggie. Have you been well?” Taehyung asked politely. 

“As well as I can be, I suppose. Yourself?” Maggie extended the same courtesy. 

“I’m splendid, now that you’re here. Tell me about yourself,” he dove right in. 

“I’m just an average girl. Nothing really special about me,” she shrugged while tugging at a strand of hair, “I never thought I’d be able to eat in a place like this in a million years. You must be embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“I disagree. I think you’re the most interesting thing here, apart from me of course,” Taehyung let out a low chuckle, “I gather you come from a poor family? What do they think about your late night escapades?” 

“They’re...gone. Sickness took them. Cholera,” Maggie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “I don’t wanna see anyone else die so I…”

“Ah. That’s your noble cause huh? Admirable,” Taehyung took a long sip from his wine glass.

“And what of you, Mr. Taehyung? You seem rather peculiar yourself. What’s your reason for visiting that ward so late at night?” Maggie deflected the subject away from her.

“You could say I’m a humanitarian of sorts. I visit at least once a month, it’s a necessity for me,” he smiled slyly, “What else do you want to know? I haven’t had a decent conversation in ages.”

“You struck me as rather peculiar. A handsome gentleman like yourself lurking around giving aid to the weak. And then you only gave me one name when we introduced ourselves. I assumed it was your first name, so I gave you my first name in return. Forgive me if I was mistaken,” Maggie took a sip of water. 

“One name is all you need to know, dear. I’m happy we’re on a first name basis. However, I can address you otherwise if you deem it improper,” Taehyung offered.

The rest of the evening went on pleasantly. The meal was delicious, probably the best meal Maggie had ever had. She noticed that Taehyung’s meat was barely cooked, it was practically still raw. She decided not to mention it when she saw him happily gobble it down. Maggie also noticed that his red wine was thicker than what she was accustomed to seeing, but she figured it was a fancy alcohol that rich people drank. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by asking. 

Taehyung’s leg bounced quickly under the table. Maggie’s aroma grew more intense the longer he was with her. Her scent was intoxicating, and it took everything in his power not to take her then and there. He was in a conundrum. He took a liking to this spunky girl. He was torn. He didn’t know when to devour her, if to devour her at all. 

By the end of the night, he had decided. He’d keep her around for as long as he wanted, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He could easily end her life whenever he pleased anyway. The only thing he’d have to worry about was his self control. 

Taehyung and Maggie began to meet regularly. Taehyung would share the finer things in life with her. He’d take her to botanical gardens and fancy museums. In return, Maggie taught him everything she knew about medicine. She detested the use of cocaine as a common remedy, and preferred to make her own medicine. Taehyung accompanied her on her nightly rounds, he enjoyed every second he spent with her. 

It took about a year for Taehyung to officially court Maggie. She accepted, of course, and was now visiting Taehyung’s home for the first time. Home was an understatement. His mansion resided on a massive estate. 

A grand feast awaited Maggie. Her favorite dishes and desserts lined the dinner table, with Taehyung sitting at the opposite end. As Maggie dug into the food, she struggled to hold her tongue. A question had been lingering on her mind for quite some time now.

“Is everything alright, Miss Maggie? Is the food inadequate?” Taehyung asked from across the room. 

“The food is delicious, probably the best I’ve ever had. Your kitchen staff must be very talented,” Maggie shook her head. 

“Ah, I have no staff here. I’m glad you enjoy the food, it was all made by me,” Taehyung said proudly. 

“You take care of this entire property by yourself?” Maggie’s jaw dropped in shock.

“It’s tough sometimes, and lonely. I suppose I could hire one person to help out,” Taehyung lifted his eyebrows at Maggie. 

“M-me? I’m not really a good cook but--”

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. As you can see, I have more rooms than I know what to do with. You’re welcome to stay here with me for as long as you like,” Taehyung offered.

“Can you answer one question for me first, Mr. Taehyung?” Maggie asked tentatively. 

“Ask me anything,” Taehyung smiled.

“Are...are you ill?” Maggie looked at him with concern, “Please don’t take any offense. I noticed that we only meet in the evenings or when it’s a cloudy day. And I know that you have a predilection for barely cooked meats, and I’m sure eating raw things isn’t good for you. Also when we first met I thought rich people just had fancy alcohol but I can never see anyone drinking the same concoction as you whenever we eat at restaurants,” she rambled. 

“My my, aren’t you observant,” Taehyung’s lips twisted into an amused smile, “Are you afraid of monsters?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” Maggied quickly answered, annoyed that he deflected her questions. 

“Are you sure about that? Think carefully. I only go out at night or under cloud cover. I prefer my meat raw. I drink a rather strange red liquid that you should be very familiar with since you tend to the drunkards who are bound to get into fights down in the slums,” Taehyung toyed with her. 

“What? Do you expect me to believe that you’re some sort of vile creature that drinks blood?” Maggie laughed nervously.

In an instant, Taehyung’s chair was vacant as he menacingly stood over Maggie, “That is precisely the truth. Have you heard of vampyres?” he licked his lips.

Maggie was too frightened to move. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her? Her eyes narrowed in on the fangs Taehyung bared as he smiled eerily down at her. 

 “I’ve heard of them. The people in the slums are terrified of being sucked dry, claiming that people wandering alone at night have a death wish. I thought they were just delusional,” panic gripped Maggie, “Were you going to eat me the first night we met?” 

“I desperately wanted to. You know the irresistible and mouth watering smell of a bakery in the morning? That’s what you smell like to me, only ten times more alluring and potent,” Taehyung nodded.

“Then why haven’t you yet?” Maggie questioned. 

“Because, my dear Miss Maggie, I am a fool. I have taken a liking to you. As you can imagine, being an immortal being gets lonely. You’ve provided me with more joy and entertainment than I’ve had in a while. At this point, I’d rather have you stay alive,” he sighed. 

“So if I stayed here with you, you’d promise you’d never harm me?” Maggie attempted to calm her breathing.

“Of course, I would not touch a hair on your head. Unless you want me to,” he winked.

“You would make me into a vampyre?” Maggie’s eyes widened.

“I was hinting at a more carnal interaction, but I could do that as well. Do you want an immortal life?” Taehyung’s eyes wandered to her exposed neck. 

“No. Not if it costs others their lives. I must be crazy Mr. Taehyung. You’ve admitted that you’re a monster and yet I still feel safe with you. I would love to move in and keep you company, if you’ll have me,” Maggie smiled fondly. 

“You’re very strange, Miss Maggie. That’s not at all the reaction I thought you’d have, but I’m happy for it. Very well, you may stay here. I can help you bring your belongings tomorrow night,” Taehyung grinned. 

“I’m curious; were you born a vampyre?” Maggie piped up. Taehyung let out a hearty laugh. 

“No, I was a human once like you. I got into a scuffle with a nasty bloke in the 16th century. Rather than killing me, he gave me a far worse end. He turned me. I haven’t seen him to this day, but I’m sure the slimy bastard is still undead somewhere in the world,” Taehyung’s cheery face fell into a scowl. 

“16th century? You’re an old man!” Maggie exclaimed teasingly.

“But I have the physical body of a young man, that must count for something, Taehyung chuckled, “Come, I can escort you to your room.”

“Am I staying the night?” Maggie tilted her head.

“That was my assumption. You’re free to leave at any time,” Taehyung shrugged. 

“It’s just that...I’ve never left my family home. I’ve been pretty lonely since everyone died. I can’t imagine how you must feel…” she trailed off.

“You’ve helped me with that tremendously. I guess we’ve cured each other’s loneliness, yes?” Taehyung cupped his hands over Maggie’s.

It was the first time he had ever touched her. His fingers were ice cold, resembling the kind of cold only a corpse could possess. Instinctively, she took his hands in hers and attempted to blow warm air onto them. Taehyung knew it would never work, but he appreciated the gesture. He pulled her into a warm embrace. 

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate. You make me feel at ease,” Taehyung whispered. To his surprise, Maggie hugged him back tightly. She didn’t say anything, but her actions were clear enough. 

Taehyung sat in an armchair in his room reading a novel a couple hours after he bid Maggie goodnight. He was pleased with the outcome of the night’s events. He was honestly dreading the thought of having to kill Maggie if she were to run away screaming. He was glad things didn’t come to that. 

There was a knock on the door. With a wave of his hand the door swung open, revealing a sleepy Maggie on the other side. 

“I heard a strange noise and couldn’t fall back to sleep,” Maggie yawned. 

“Don’t lie,” Taehyung chided without looking up from his book. 

“I’ve never slept away from home before and being alone in that big room scares me,” Maggie admitted, her eyes cast down to the floor. 

“That’s what I thought. You’re welcome to use my bed. I’ll stay here while you sleep,” Taehyung finally looked up and kindly gestured to the large bed.

“Where’s your coffin?” Maggie asked as she wiggled into the sheets. 

“That’s a stereotype. Do I look like the type of guy who sleeps in a stuffy wooden coffin? Nonsense. However, there is soil from my hometown beneath the bed,” Taehyung tsked.

“Really?” Maggie’s eyes grew wide. 

“Nope. Go to bed, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung chuckled. 

“Care to join me?” Maggie asked as she stretched. 

“I’m not going to sleep--”

“Then neither am I! I’m practically wide awake now,” Maggie interrupted him. 

Taehyung put his book down and walked to the bed, opting to sit on the end, a respectable distance away from Maggie. They talked the night away. Now that Maggie had some time to process everything, she had a plethora of questions ranging from vampyres to fashion throughout the years. 

“So have you ever been married? Or in love?” Maggie probed. 

“Never been married. Have been in love a few times. As you can imagine they all ended in heartache. Truthfully, I’ve been questioning why I let myself get so attached to you,” Taehyung confessed. 

“I’m glad you did. Because I love you, Mr. Taehyung. I fell in love with your grace and intellect, and of course you’re extremely handsome. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way about me, I just wanted to be candid with you before living together,” Maggie tugged at her hair. 

“Miss Maggie, I foolishly fell in love with you. You’d be one with the dirt by now if I hadn’t been so enthralled by you. Hm, that didn’t come out very romantic,” Taehyung shook his head before continuing, “The feeling is mutual. I know I can’t give you a normal marriage, but I promise to love you until the end.” 

Maggie crawled towards Taehyung and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Taehyung deepened the kiss as he pushed her flat onto the bed. Hands wandered. Giggles filled the air. Clothing fell to the ground. Soon, both beings were stark naked as they gazed into each other’s eyes. 

“Are you sure you want to go any further?” Taehyung asked.

“I want all of you inside me,” Maggie replied as she brought him in for another kiss.

Taehyung guided his dick to her entrance, patiently teasing it as he coated himself in her juices. Once he was drenched, he slowly slid into her, giving her time to adjust to his size. She let out soft moans as he went deeper. 

They laced their fingers together once he began to thrust. He started slowly, making sure she was enjoying herself. He wanted to enjoy all of her delicately, taking careful care not to break her. His prior flings with the whores in the brothels was different. He didn’t care about them, he used them solely for his own pleasure. But this time, he wanted to please Maggie. He was happy to see her eyes shut with pleasure as he picked up the pace. 

Taehyung placed his thumb on a certain little sensitive nub, making Maggie jump. Her eyes were blown out with lust as she arched her back. Taehyung worked her body perfectly, timing his thrusts with the clitoral stimulation. It didn’t take long for Maggie’s entire body to shake. 

“Tae-Taehyung I--”

“Go ahead. Just let it all out, Maggie,” Taehyung demanded. He accidentally let his power of persuasion slip into that statement. Maggie came on the spot, cumming all over his cock as she moaned. It wasn’t long after until Taehyung released his seed inside of her. 

Maggie’s chest heaved as she lay motionless on the bed. That was the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. Taehyung cleaned her up before tucking her back into the bed. Once he cleaned himself up, he joined her side. 

“Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I’m technically dead anyway,” he kissed her forehead before they both dozed off. 

Taehyung woke up the following evening to an empty bed. He searched the house, unable to find Maggie. He began to worry. Did she leave him to get help? Did she abandon him?

“Good morning! Sleep well?” Maggie called out to him as she walked through the front doors.

“Why were you outside?” Taehyung questioned quickly.

“Lemme show you,” Maggie took Taehyung’s hand and led him outside. She proudly showed off a patch of crudely repotted plants. She explained to him that she went into town to get a few. Since she’d save a couple lives here and there, some people felt indebted to her. She called on her favors and managed to wrangle up a couple flowers and herbs.

“I love the botanical garden you always take me to. I figured we can try and make our own here since you have so much space,” Maggie smiled.

“Do you garden often?” Taehyung asked while looking at the half wilted plants.

“Never have, but it can’t be that hard right? Just give them water and love. Just watch, this place will rival that fancy botanical garden,” a flicker of determination lit up in her eyes. 

Several happy years later, Maggie had kept her word. It had been ten wonderful years filled with merriment. Taehyung was not the man he was before. Maggie had softened his heart, and he was thankful for it. He accompanied her when she tended to the people in the slums, learning the art of medicine by her side. She even helped curb his bloodlust. Taehyung only fed on the people who were beyond help, or those who actively sought death. Maggie still didn’t like it, but of course that was out of her control. 

Taehyung’s arms were wrapped around Maggie as they admired their personal garden. It was a struggle at first, but they discovered that Taehyung had a godlike green thumb, and basically resurrected the plants back from the dead. With his guidance, Maggie was able to see her vision come true. 

One night, Taehyung had to leave the mansion for a few hours to meet with his business colleagues (he was a rather savvy businessman, being around for a couple hundred years does that to a person). Taehyung itched to return to Maggie’s side and barely paid attention to the meeting. She always claimed that she would be fine, it was only a couple hours after all. Even so, Taehyung worried about her. 

Finally the meeting was adjourned, and he was free to rush home. He found the front door unlocked upon his arrival. He gave the handle a quizzical look, he was sure that he had locked it. 

“Maggie? Where are you?” he called out. 

“Taehyung! Run away--” Maggie’s muffled scream came from the dining room. 

Two big men stood at either side of a tied up Maggie, who now had a black eye. One of the men held a knife to her throat, close enough to draw out an inkling of blood. 

“‘ello, Mr. Taehyung. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” a third stout man with a thick cockney accent emerged from a corner of the room, “I’ll cut to the chase. You let us kill you, and the little missy gets to live. If you resist, she dies. Simple as that.”

“Who are you people? You’re making a huge mistake. I have connections all over the country that--”

“Spare us the horseshit. We know what you are, filthy vampyre,” the word rolled off the stout man’s tongue like a slur, “The VEC sent us. You know ‘em? Stands for ‘Vampyre Extermination Company’ it does. We’re the best they ‘av, so you might as well surrender now.”

“Oh you already know? Lovely, that saves me time,” Taehyung growled as he seemingly phased from where he stood over to Maggie (but vampyres can’t teleport, they just have super speed and can fly sometimes).

In the blink of an eye, he broke the neck of the man who held the knife and threw the other guy across the room. He quickly released Maggie, and hugged her tightly before returning to attack the intruders. He lifted the stout man by his neck and held him against the wall.

“You sure you’re the best? The VEC must be a pretty unsuccessful organization,” Taehyung taunted. 

“I told yous we should’ve just killed her in the first place and then ambushed him!” the stout man yelled to no one in particular. 

Taehyung sank his fangs into the man’s neck, before ripping out a piece. He was going to enjoy torturing him. It was what he deserved for harming his beloved Maggie. A gunshot went off, stopping Taehyung in the middle of his raging frenzy. 

Taehyung looked back in horror. Maggie held her bleeding stomach, sinking to the floor. The man he had thrown at the wall earlier was wielding a gun with a smirk on his face. Taehyung lost it. He ripped the assailant’s beating heart out from his chest.

He scrambled over to Maggie, cradling her in his arms. 

“That hurt,” she joked weakly.

“Shh, don’t speak. I have to get you to a doctor. I can carry you--”

“It’s too late. This wound is worse than most of what we’ve seen in the slums. I’m just sorry I have to leave you so soon,” a tear rolled down her cheek. 

“No! No please don’t leave me. There’s still time! I can turn you and we can be together forever,” Taehyung wept.

“You know I never wanted that. I’m sorry I’m being so selfish,” Maggie coughed  up blood, “I love you, Mr. Taehyung. Don’t ever forget that,” she said with her final breath. 

Taehyung held her until he saw the light leave her eyes. Anguish and sorrow filled his soul. He held her close and sobbed over her lifeless body. 

“You tricked her into lovin’ ya, eh? There’s no end to the wickedness of you bastards,” the stout man struggled to say as he drowned in his own blood.

Taehyung gently laid Maggie’s body on the floor and walked over to the stout man. He stepped on the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe and adding pressure to his gaping wound. The man’s eyes screamed in pain as Taehyung looked down at him blankly. 

“The VEC huh? I’ll remember that. I’ll see you in hell someday,” Taehyung spat as he trampled the man beneath him.  

Taehyung didn’t leave Maggie’s side for a week straight. He couldn’t bear to do anything; he didn’t want to admit that she was gone. His heart broke every time he saw her, but he couldn’t bring himself to move her. It wasn’t until her corpse was a bloated smelly mess that finally motivated Taehyung to move.

“I’m sorry I let you become this way, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung whispered as he carried the body out to the botanical garden. He buried her there, among her cherished plants. 

Taehyung fled his estate. The crime scene wasn’t discovered until a year later when his business associates came to check on him after he missed several meetings. 

Taehyung swore that he would never love again. Never open up again. And never ever, under any circumstances, interact with the VEC. As much as he wanted to tear the establishment apart, he knew Maggie would be against it. He couldn’t bear disappointing her, even in death.  

He settled down in a small unsuspecting town in a different country. He bought an abandoned property where he swore he’d live out the rest of his days quietly and peacefully. 

Published August 21st, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2019 Baepsaesbae.

[ii-kanjiiiii]

A Crazy Day at Miku Expo

A Vocaloid shitpost story

Warnings: swearing, contains Kaito x Meiko

Chapter 1

It was a normal day in the Cryptonloid household, like always. It was 12pm and Meiko was already up because she’s a normal person.

“GET UP YOU IDIOTS WE HAVE TO LEAVE FOR MIKU EXPOOO!!!!” she woke the rest of the Cryptonloids up as she was a thoughtful person.

“OH SHIT I FORGOT!!” Miku screamed. Her hair looked like Chuckie Finster from Rugrats but had a much larger mass.

“WAIT WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE PERFORMING TONIGHT?!!? PLS NOOOOO I HAVE A PIMPLE!!!” Len cried.

Miraculously, all of them had somehow forgotten that they had a Miku Expo concert in the mystical country of Hajarputa that night. Except for Meiko, because she was a responsible person.

Once they were done packing and getting ready, they went into their private Miku jet which was covered with Miku faces and had big words that said “HATSUNE MIKU” because Miku is the best and owns the world.

Inside, ‘World is Mine’ was playing on loop and the wall was covered in Miku wallpaper and posters. Meiko sat on a Miku couch at the front, because Meiko is queen and is obviously the sexiest one. Kaito, being the simp that he is, sat next to her.

Luka went all the way to the back of the Miku jet and sat in a Miku chair in the corner, away from everyone else as she was tired of everyone’s bullshit.

Miku and the demonic twins were in the middle, just jumping around and throwing shit everywhere as they were still high as fUCK from the FRUIT loops they ate for breakfast.

Suddenly, ‘World is Mine’ stopped playing, and the pilot made an announcement through the plane intercom. Or whatever it’s called lmao I don’t know.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome onboard Flight Miku. We will be taking off from Sapporo to Hajarputa. I am Sonic the Hedgehog and I am your pilot for today. Just kidding bitch, my name is actually うんち(‘Jonathan Harris’ in Japanese). We are expected to reach Hajarputa in about 22 hours. I swear to God, PLEASE put on your seatbelts or you’re gonna fucking die. We also ask that you ensure your seats are in the upright position for take-off, if not you’ll fucking die. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, if not you’ll fucking die as well. Don’t smoke too, cause you’ll get lung cancer and fucking die. Thank you for choosing Miku Airlines. Enjoy your flight. I definitely will not crash this plane. I swear.”

'World is Mine’ was back playing on loop again.

“Well that was comforting,” Meiko said, being a sarcastic piece of shit.

“Lol what? I don’t remember hiring this man,” Miku said. “Lol, whatever,” she shrugged.

Some time after the Miku Jet took off, Kaito and Meiko started fighting over what they would name their non-existent kid that they would never have.

“If she’s a girl, Sakura is the best name!! It represents beauty and optimism,” Kaito said.

“It also represents death,” Meiko argued. “And who the fuck names their kid after a plant? Enaado is the best name!!”

“The fuck kinda name is Enaado?” Len, who was seated far away from them, muttered to himself. Meiko, who was somehow able to hear him, pulled a super soaker gun out of nowhere and squirted him all the way from the other end of the plane.

Some hours later, the vocaloids were bored as heck and ‘World is Mine’ playing on loop was driving them to insanity(except for Miku of course).

“Can you turn that shit off, Miku? I swear to God, if I hear “sekai de ichiban ohime-sama” one more damn time, my internal organs are going to explode,” Luka said, smashing her head against the wall.

“Geez, fine, Luka! You don’t have to be so mean about it, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to appreciate good art,” Miku rolled her eyes, then she changed the song to ‘Popipo’ on loop, which was probably 100x worse.

“YOU’RE my sekai de ichiban ohime-sama, Me-chan~<3” Kaito UwU-ed. She smacked him with a magazine.

Another time skip, Miku wanted to play truth or dare lmao. Luka, Miku and the twins sat in a circle and started playing.

“Oh yeah, by the way, Mei-nee and Kai-nii are in the game too,” Miku said.

“Wtf no thanks,” Meiko immediately said, not looking up from her magazine about self control & anger management.

“No, you can’t escape, Mei-nee,” Miku replied, staring intensely into her soul. She then got a piece of rope out of nowhere and tied Meiko and Kaito to their chairs.

“TRUTH OR DARE, MEI-NEE?” Miku asked, her eye twitching.

“Ugh, fine. Truth,” Meiko replied, as she had no other choice.

Meanwhile, Kaito was having Vietnam war flashbacks as Miku tying him to the chair reminded him of that one time he got kidnapped by Sonic the Hedgehog. (An event that happened in my other fanfic that I’m not going to post.)

“Do you want to make out with Kai-nii?” Miku asked with a stupid shitty grin on her face.

“What the fuck? Oh, HELL NO. I think I already know how this is gonna go,” Meiko muttered.

“AnSwEr tHe qUeStiOn!!!” Miku yelled impatiently, flipping the fucking table.

“Dare!” Meiko quickly said, sweating.

“I dare you to make out with Kai-nii,” Miku said, raising her eyebrows up and down like fucking Mr. Bean.

Upon hearing this, Kaito’s attention was caught and he snapped out of his Vietnam war flashbacks.

“GODDAMN IT!!” Meiko cursed.

“Oh my GOD, Kaito. Don’t give me THAT look,” Meiko said, terrified for her life as she noticed Kaito looking at her with considerable interest.

“Why the hell did you give that dare, Miku? Literally NO ONE wants to see that shit,” Len said, staring judgingly at Miku. He definitely did not have to see his parents smashing their faces together.

“Yeah, Len’s right,” Luka said. “Aight, Imma head out. Bye bitches,” she flipped her fabulous long hair and strolled out elegantly. Once she reached her seat at the far corner of the plane, she opened her laptop and looked at images of the Gingerbread Man from Shrek.

“Shut up Len and just watch the show!” Rin, who was just as delusional as Miku, scolded.

“MEIKOUT MEIKOUT MEIKOUT MEIKOUT MEIKOUT” the crazy girls started chanting.

I’m so sorry

I really have no idea where this shitty fanfic is going

TIME SKIP LOL

It was nighttime and the Cryptonloids were sleeping in their beds with Miku blankets and ‘Popipo’ was still playing on loop. Suddenly, the Miku Jet started shaking really hard, then everyone flew out of their beds and hit their heads on the ceiling. After a few seconds, the Miku Jet stopped shaking and everyone fell back to the ground.

“Heh heh, sorry folks. Just a little air turbulence is all,” Pilot うんち announced.

“What the actual FUCK?? “A ‘liTtLE’ aIR tUrBuLeNcE” he said!! I don’t think we should be entrusting that guy with our LIVES!!” Meiko seethed. “I’m going to have a word with him.” she stormed off to the Pilot’s cabin.

“Wait Me-chan, I’ll come too,” Kaito said, and tagged along with her for extra support because he was a good boyfriend.

Once they reached the Pilot’s cabin, she slid open the door and shouted “LISTEN UP, MISTER, DO YOUR DAMN JOB PROPERLY!!”

“Oh, Meiko-san, hello!” the pilot spun his chair around and smiled. “Oh, Kaito, you’re here too! How’s it going, buddy? Has Sonic been bothering you any more?”

Meiko and Kaito’s eyes widened as they realised who the pilot was.

“FUKASE??!!!!” they screamed in shock. His Ronald Mcdonald hair was unmistakable.

“No, I’m うんち. Who the hell is Fukase?” うんち/Fukase said.

“WHY ARE YOU FLYING A PLANE, FUKASE??!! AREN’T YOU LIKE, FOURTEEN?!??!!!” Meiko screamed.

“Uh, no, I’m fifteen. Also, the age of consent in Japan is thirteen, sooo I don’t see any problem with it,” he replied.

“WHAT THE HELL DOES AGE OF CONSENT HAVE TO DO WITH FLYING A PLANE???!!” Meiko screamed, ripping her hair out. I really need to stop using scream.

"Umm… with all due respect, Fukase, are you even qualified for this?” Kaito spoke up.

“Yeah, DUH. I’ve had years worth of flight experience from Microsoft Flight Simulator on the Xbox!” he replied. “What kinda dumb shit would hire someone who ISN’T qualified??”

“oH mAN OH GOD OUR LIVES ARE IN THE HANDS OF THAT DUMB KID OH MAN OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD OH MAN OH GOD-“ Meiko was hyperventilating in the corner and hugging her legs, sweat pouring down her face. It was unlike her to freak out like this, she was usually calm and kept her cool. However, this is Fukase we’re talking about, and any rational person would be freaking out and fearing for their lives.

“Breathe, Me-chan, breathe,” Kaito attempted to calm her down. “Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. Nothing bad will happen. Everything is okay,” he assured her, hugging her tightly.

“How would YOU know that???” she asked.

“I don’t,” he replied. “When things get rough, denial is all we have,” he said, giving his Stupid Bakaito Grin™.

TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE???1??1

[lukneetoonz]

Oblivious

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Summary: You’re in love with a boy who thinks you’d never love him… what happens when he overhears you talking about him?

Pairing: Shinsou x Female!reader

Warnings: Angst, cussing, but it’s coot I promise

Word Count: 2,244

A/N: Been in a funk lately and don’t know what to write! Ask box is open for suggestions!

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

——————————————————————————

Lilacs, the smell of coffee and lavender, and the sounds of video games were all things that reminded you of the boy that you admired. Your friends called it love, but you called it a silly crush, because how can you love someone who doesn’t love you? Shinsou Hitoshi was always on your mind, even if he didn’t do anything to be on it, you just couldn’t get him out. It didn’t help that you guys were best friends, for that is what Shinsou continuously calls your relationship. Seemingly reminding you that you’re nothing but his friend, someone for him to go to when he doesn’t have anyone else. You were a placement holder, and that hurt.

Snapping fingers in front of your face brought you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting a group of concerned ones. “Y/N… we hate seeing you look so sad. Why don’t you take Mina up on that offer and go on a blind date?” Uraraka spoke softly to you, almost like her words could send you crashing down at any moment. Shaking your head you groaned and rubbed your face, “But I can’t! I can’t go on a date when I can’t get him out of my head… it’s not fair to the other person. I’m not just going to use someone to get over another…” your words only made the girls frown deeper.

Mina stood up abruptly and put her hands on her hips as she raised her eyebrows at you, “I just don’t see it. Honestly Y/N! You could have any guy in our class- scratch that, our grade, yet you’re sitting here because this crazy haired asshole can’t see how amazing you are!” Her words made you blush as you huff and hug yourself, looking away, none of you aware that there was now an extra set of ears on your private conversation. “You guys don’t get it! He’s so- gah! I can’t even put it into words. No one comments on how Uraraka is crushing on Midoriya!”

Momo smiled sadly as Uraraka fell on the floor covering her red face, “Because they’re both too awkward and shy to admit their feelings when it’s both obvious they like each other. It’s like they’re dating, but aren't. It’s also because Midoriya isn’t emotionally constipated” Momo stated simply but elegantly as the others nodded along as you blushed, and felt aggravation bubble inside you. But just beyond the common room and in the hallway stood shinsou, back against the wall as he tried to quiet his breathing, wanting to find out more about the crush of the girl he's hopelessly in love with.

“He isn’t emotionally constipated! He’s- god- he shows he cares and stuff but in his own way… he has such a kind heart and beautiful soul it just makes me want to dive deeper into what makes him, well him! And when he talks about something he’s passionate about, his eyes they just- lighten up slightly as they also crinkle because he’s smiling and the sight alone rips my breath away. I can’t even describe him by using three words because he deserves the whole damn dictionary! Why can’t you guys see how wonderful he is? He isn’t just some asshole, hes special. That’s why I’ve fallen so hard for him and I don’t regret a second of it.” You’re panting by the time you stop your rant, all eyes on you as you look to the ground embarrassed.

“Y/N, we didn’t know-” Mina tried to start but you quickly dismissed her, “Of course you didn’t know, because no one else in the room spends as much time admiring him like I do.” A sad smile etched on your face, making tsuyu and Uraraka hug you, which you automatically found comfort in. Meanwhile a lilac eyed boy had left his spot and went to his dorm, upset with himself for falling for someone who obviously loved someone that wasn’t him. How could he have been so stupid to even think for a second it could have been him?

*•*

Your head rested on your desk as you listened to the girls talk about the number two hero and gush about how good looking he is. Moving to focus on the empty seat next to you, the pang in your chest didn’t go unnoticed as you frowned. Normally shinsou would be in class already, but for the past few days he's been showing up later, not to mention he’s been leaving class in a rush and pushing you away. It hurt- god did it hurt. Pushing the feelings away, you turned to look at your friends and smiled softly at whatever they were saying.

“Y/N you’re not even paying attention, what’s on your mind?” Momo spoke up, making you sigh. “I know we aren’t- a thing, but he’s barely even looked my way in days and that hurts so much.” You mumbled softly, trying not to stare at his empty seat. “I don’t even know what I did wrong… it’s like I want to ask him but- that terrifies me. Confrontation terrifies me” tears welled up in your eyes as you buried your head in your arms. Your friends knew of your anxiety and honestly if it wasn’t for them, you’d sit in the back of the class and keep to yourself.

It was always the girls talking to you first or making plans, making sure it was something small and intimate because you didn’t like to go out to places that drew a bunch of attention to you. Honestly that was your worst nightmare, just like how the sports festival was horrible for you. When you did go to an agency, you were picked for an underground work agency, not that you didn’t mind. So the fact that you might have to go up and ask your best friend what you did wrong, and then listen to what you did wrong, was killing you on the inside.

Like clockwork, a indigo haired boy walked through the door right before the bell rang, barely giving you a glance, his cold demeanor making you flinch. Taking a deep breath you thought of a great idea that allowed you to talk to Shinsou, but also didn’t make it as scary. You got your notebook out and tore a piece of paper out quietly, before thinking of what to write.

You: ‘Hi =) are you okay? It’s just- I feel like we haven’t been able to talk lately’

Yeah… that’s good. It’s subtle and the smiley face is cute… well hopefully. Tapping on Shinsou’s shoulder you bit your lip, waiting for him to turn around, but he never did. Maybe he just didn’t feel it, you could tap rather light sometimes, so once again you tapped his shoulder, only to get a shoulder shrug in response. You felt your throat go dry as tears threatened to spill, gripping the note in your hand. You stood up abruptly and ran out of class, ignoring Aizawa asking you where you were going.

Shinsou saw you leave, he heard your quiet whimper, he felt your taps. But he couldn’t respond to any of it, why could he when he was hopelessly in love with you and you were in love with someone else? So much so in fact that you ignored your friends pleas to move on. Burying his own head in his arms, he groaned quietly as he tried to get you out of his thoughts. Mina stared at the boy with eyes that could kill, he was the one that was hurting her friend so much, and yet he was still here looking unfazed while you ran out crying.

*•*

Once class ended, Shinsou went to rush out like he’d been doing but was cornered by every single girl in that class, Pinky leading the group. “Who do you think you are to act like this, you emotionally constipated flower. Y/N cares for you and yet here you are avoiding her like she has the plague for no good reason. God I don’t even know what she sees in you anyway” as soon as those words left her mouth, several different pairs of hands flew to cover Mina’s mouth. Shinsou looked at her with a star struck look, before he groaned and facepalmed.

“I’m such an asshole! I thought- I overheard her talking the other night and I thought she liked someone that obviously wasn’t me…” rubbing his face, he had desperate eyes. “I thought if I distanced myself, it would hurt less when she started dating someone that wasn’t me” Some of the girls awed, but Mina merely flicked him. “Just shut up and go after her! You should be explaining this to her, not us dipshit!” Tsuyu eyed Mina and giggled, “You’ve been hanging around Bakugou too much… he's starting to rub off on you”

Shinsou didn’t even stay to hear the girls bicker before he ran off towards the dorms, with only you on his mind. Panting, he finally made it to the place he needed to be and wasted no time on pounding on your door, not once stopping in between knocks. “Guys please- I don’t wanna talk about it..” The croak of your voice broke the lilac eyed boy, making him sigh in defeat. “Y/N, kitten, please let me in… I need to apologize for being such an asshole to my best friend” His soft voice broke through the door, making you tense.

That word. Best friend. That’s all you’ll ever be. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tightly clutched onto your pillow, trying to hide your sniffling. “I’m fine Shinsou, j-just go back to class.” Resting his head against the door, Shinsou frowned deeply and closed his own eyes, trying to picture your form. “No you’re not Y/N…. you’re not fine and it’s my fault. I was being an asshole to you because I assumed things because of my own insecurities. Now can you please open the door so I can tell you this to your face?” He thought the desperate plea had failed until he heard the click of your lock and the turning of your doorknob, door opening to reveal your watery (E/C) eyes.

“Fuck- Y/N. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to be the cause of your tears, I promise to never cause your tears again.” Quickly he cupped your face and pursed his lips as he took in your upset appearance. A blush spread across your face from his intimate touch, looking anywhere but his face, “w-why are you acting like this Shinsou? It hurts…” Your whimpers caught his heart and he brought you into a hug, clutching onto you like you’d push him away. “I love you… okay? I-I heard you talking in the common room the other day and I never thought you could be talking about me, so I pushed you away because I thought it would hurt less then when you started seeing someone that wasn’t me.”

The boy's confession shocked you as you froze, slowly you hugged him back, a smile crawling it’s way onto your flustered face. “Who told you? T-that I was talking about you?” Shinsou chuckled lightly, pulling away and brushed your hair off your face that stuck to the wetness from your tears, “Mina let it slip slightly and I just put two and two together…” Suddenly his face grew serious as he tensed, “I never want to cause you tears again… I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry” giggling, you reached up and squished his cheeks together, eyes looking down at the lips you’ve fantasised about for so long.

“I love you too, Toshi…” You were so focused on his lips you didn’t see his own eyes that were focused on your plump lips. “Can I kiss you?” Blushing, you looked to meet his eyes to see if he was serious, slowly nodding you let him inch forward until his lips ghosted against yours, eyes closing when your lips finally clashed in a soft, but slow kiss. It was full of emotion and innocence, his lips moved against yours eagerly because this was something he's wanted to do for ages. The both of you only pulling away for air, foreheads resting against each other as the sound of your soft pants filled the air.

“Be ready at 7 tonight, okay kitten?” Tilting your head, you looked at Shinsou confused and he chuckled, merely pecking your lips. “I have to take my girlfriend on a first date don’t I?” Girlfriend? First date? Shit you just squealed in front of your BOYFRIEND?! Quickly you nodded and ran inside your room, slamming the door, a smile on your face as you finally got your lilac boy.

[yeehawetc]

Title: Bachelor’s Grove

Pairing: none

Summary: It’s Christmas 1885. Dutch is talking to anarchists, Hosea’s trying to scam an old man out of his house, and Arthur’s trying to figure out the very weird kid they just picked up. Nobody knows if they’re going to keep him, and John doesn’t want to go back. 

Warnings: some gory imagery; almost-kind-of-you-decide-whether-it’s-magical-realism? 

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368408

@wolfmeat​, I was your secret santa! (I bet you never guessed. Love you) 

i.

The sun glancing off the frosted windows of the station house blinds Arthur temporarily as he slips off Boadicea. He tugs off his heavy mittens to tie her to the hitching post, then stuffs his chapped hands quickly back into his coat pockets. There was an inch of ice on the water bucket this morning in camp. Arthur wishes Dutch had chosen a warmer morning to get caught with a known anarchist distributing anti-government literature.  

He steps inside, and again can’t fucking see for a minute. The station’s dark even in daylight, old wood lit by dusty kerosene lamps that stink louder than the general musk of a constant cycle of drunks’ piss and tobacco spit. Arthur stops for a minute inside the door to let his eyes adjust, and the officer at the desk barks at him. 

“What you want, son?”

“Payin’ a social call,” Arthur says, and takes the wad of bills Hosea counted out for him and tosses it onto the desk. The fella’s eyebrows hop nearly off his face, and Arthur scans the cells while he counts the money. It doesn’t take him long to pick him out. There’s not many people in the 18th district jailhouse wearing black silk and sitting on the cot like it’s a goddamn throne. 

Dutch stands to meet him when Arthur approaches the cell, straightening his vest and checking the time on his pocket watch. As if Arthur were here picking him up from a social function, as if he didn’t have a huge purple bruise over one cheekbone. 

“Good morning, Arthur,” he says, spreading his arms wide. 

“Hosea’s gonna have your hide,” Arthur tells him. Dutch waves that away blithely, picking up his coat. He limps elegantly to the door of the cell and extends a broad hand to the jailkeeper, who doesn’t take it. 

“A merry Christmas to you and your family,” Dutch says, beaming. Arthur can tell he’d like to knock the man’s teeth out. “Very sorry to insult your hospitality this way, but I’m afraid I ain’t inclined to spend another night in the company of the state.” 

The guard isn’t impressed. “Go on,” he says, “before I change my mind.” 

Dutch, Arthur notes with some dismay, is clearly in a good mood. For the first fifteen minutes of the ride back to camp, Dutch expounds on the uselessness of the state and the pathetic bankruptcy of soul that must lead a man like that wretch back at the jailhouse to feed his family off the profits of a government that’s nothing more than a tradition, and a cruel and foolish one at that, and Arthur picks at the loose wool on his mittens and watches his breath steam in the air. 

“The true place for a just man, Arthur, is a prison,” Dutch shouts to him through the blistering chill as they wind south towards Bachelor’s Grove. 

“True place for a man who can’t run on a sprained ankle, more like,” Arthur says, and Dutch throws his head back and laughs so loud a crow gets startled off the fence they’re passing by, and Arthur can’t help himself, he’s grinning. 

“We’re onto something good here, Arthur,” Dutch says as they pass into the woods. “Silas tells me that Leslie Ashville—that haggard old maggot who owns the steel works where Silas’s poor cousin lost his hand last month—is losing his mind.”

“This the same Silas who got you arrested last night?” Arthur asks. 

Dutch ignores him. “Old Ashville’s cracking, Arthur. Talking to folks as ain’t there and forgetting his own name. They say he ain’t gonna see the year of our Lord 1886, and it don’t seem right to me to let that fine gentleman die alone, with no one but his vampire of a nephew to carry on his legacy.” 

“So,” Arthur says, starting to see where this is going, “you’re goin’ to apologize to Hosea for getting yourself arrested by inviting him to con a dyin’ man out of his money?”

“A dyin’ industrialist,” Dutch confirms brightly. 

The camp’s a cluster of tents and wagons in a stand of oaks just south of the quarry pond, a respectful distance from the scattered headstones of Bachelor’s Grove cemetery. As they ride in, Arthur can see Hosea and Miss Grimshaw hurrying between the tents, ducking to look under the wagons and talking hotly. He catches Miss Grimshaw’s last sentence on the wind as he and Dutch ride closer: “...can’t have gone far in this cold.”

“What’s happening?” Dutch inquires as he slips down from the Count, favoring his hurt ankle just a little.

“The boy’s disappeared,” Hosea says, and Arthur doesn’t miss the relief that settles over Dutch’s features when he realizes this latest catastrophe is going to postpone a conversation with Hosea about his own sins. 

“Go on, Arthur,” he says, “you look up thataways, and pray he ain’t fallen down that quarry. I’ll look off to the west, and Hosea, you and Miss Grimshaw stay here in case he comes back on his own.” 

Arthur sets out grudgingly on foot. This ain’t the first time the kid’s given them trouble. In fact, Arthur reflects, he’s been more trouble than anything else since the moment Dutch caught sight of that rabble of homesteaders tying a noose to a walnut tree and decided to investigate. When they got closer and it turned out the fearful criminal due for a lynching that day was a twelve-year-old kid with an armful of onions and a crazy look in his eye, Arthur was the one who picked the kid up and carried him to safety while Dutch and Hosea argued with the would-be executioners. And then, Arthur was the one who got onion juice spit in his eye for his troubles and a nice set of bite marks on his neck. 

The kid’s calmed down in the weeks since, or at least been effectively convinced Arthur isn’t trying to kidnap him, but he still bites. And apparently that ain’t all. Once they got him back to camp and a bowl of stew in front of him, he told Dutch his name’s John, his folks are dead, and he knows how to kill a man. Those facts, in that order, and if they didn’t light Dutch’s face up. Dutch likes the odd ones. Arthur tries not to think too deeply about how that reflects on him. 

John’s odd, all right. He talks to himself all day; talks to animals too, and rocks and trees. And, strange enough, he’s a hell of a shot—hit every one of the cans Dutch lined up for him a week after he joined the camp, “just to see what he can do.” But he’s young, younger even than Arthur was when Dutch found him, and that’s a problem. Dutch said he’s safer here than on his own, Miss Grimshaw said a child his age got no business running with outlaws, Hosea said he ought to go to an orphanage, and John started hollering so loud nobody could finish the argument, and in the month since the question of what’s to be done with John has stood open. For now, it seems, he’s with them, but one of these days somebody’s gonna have to make a decision. 

But maybe John’s made a decision of his own, now. This isn’t the first time he’s run off—he seems to have a special talent for that—but the longer Arthur trudges through the snow, the more it seems John might have made a real shot at it this time. 

Arthur skirts the mouth of the quarry pond, looking reluctantly for any sign of a little body floating in the glassy dark water ringed all around with ice, and ascertains to his satisfaction and relief that John hasn’t drowned. He’d be sure to, if he had fallen, based on the almighty fuss he put up the first time Miss Grimshaw tried to get him to wash himself, shrieking that she was trying to drown him. Dutch finally intervened, grabbing John by his collar and belt and tossing him bodily into the creek, where it immediately became clear John’s never been in water deeper than his big toe. Arthur grins to himself as he picks around the clumps of buckthorn skirting the edge of the pond, remembering the look of dumb outrage on the kid’s spluttering face when he resurfaced and realized he was only knee-deep. 

Arthur turns away from the quarry and up the snowy path towards the cemetery gates, squinting at the beaten stones that line the ground on either side. He can’t make out the names, but Hosea told him it’s mainly railway workers and homesteaders buried here, Russians and Germans and Irish. Folks who came from worlds away to get run over by wagons, or catch the grippe, or just to blow their own brains out when the crops failed and the government turned a blind eye. Ma’s buried in a place that looks like this. Pa too, maybe, only Arthur didn’t stay to see. 

He watches a red-bellied woodpecker hammer busily at someone’s gravestone, and wonders if he should start to worry. 

Then he turns onto the path leading up to the cemetery gate, a rickety wrought-iron arch planted between two spreading white cedars, and sees the kid. He’s sitting in the snow next to a tall granite monument, arms clasped around his legs and his head ducked down onto his knees, drowning in Hosea’s spare coat and Miss Grimshaw’s old scarf. His hair, as usual, hangs down over his pinched face like he’s trying to hide it. 

“Hey,” Arthur calls out, and watches as John’s head snaps up like a spooked deer. But he stays where he is, body held tense and unmoving, as Arthur jogs forward through the icy cover of snow. 

Up close, Arthur can see the kid’s been crying: his eyes are red, his cheeks are wet and chapped, and there’s a goddamn river of snot traveling down his chin. Still, when Arthur asks if he’s all right, he snaps, “A-course” and glares as if Arthur accused him of some grave offense. 

“You scared folks, runnin’ off like that,” Arthur tells him, nudging John’s leg with the toe of his boot. 

John shakes his head. “I ain’t scary.” 

“Never said you was.” Arthur holds out a hand to pull the kid up. John doesn’t take it. “Come on now.” 

John shakes his head, straggly hair flying side to side with the vehemence of his refusal. Stubborn as a horse’s ass is one thing they’ve already learned about John, and it ain’t Arthur’s favorite quality. 

“What happened this time?” he sighs, settling himself against a gravestone opposite John. “Hosea said you just up and disappeared.” 

John shrugs. “I ain’t talkin’ to you.” He’s picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of the coat, frowning furiously at it. 

“What, did Grimshaw try to make you wash again? Because you know you stink.” 

“Don’t neither.” 

“You do,” Arthur assures him. 

John sniffs, pulling his sleeve over his face and smearing snot even further across his cheek. “I ain’t goin’ back,” he says. 

“Suit yourself,” Arthur says, shrugging broadly. “You wanna run off on your own, get yourself strung up by another pack of tetchy farmers, I guess that ain’t no business of mine.” 

“No it ain’t,” John snaps, nodding in satisfaction. 

“Awfully cold, though,” Arthur remarks, pulling his coat a little closer and squinting up at the sky. “I do believe that’s a storm comin’ in off to the east there.” John pokes his head up from the depths of Hosea’s coat to swivel his skinny neck around. “Still,” Arthur goes on, “you’ve obviously made up your mind, so I ain’t gonna try to talk you out of it.” He stands up, brushing snow off his coat. “Shame about them pies, though.”

John squints at him. “What pies?” 

“Pies?” Arthur says. “Oh, the pies—oh, that ain’t nothin’. Only, I know Miss Grimshaw was plannin’ a heap of pie for Christmas. Mince pie, she said. Maybe apple. And Hosea, he’s made friends with a fella down at the slaughterhouse, figures he’ll get us a pig to roast.” 

John stares. “I never seen a pig roast.” 

“Well,” Arthur says, “I guess you ain’t gonna see one this year. Seein’ as you’re goin’ it alone now.” John squirms irritably in his snowy seat, frowning at Arthur. Arthur waits, listening to crows scream in the cedars. 

“They was fixin’ to take me back to the nuns,” John says finally, in an unusually soft little voice. Not looking at Arthur. 

“What,” Arthur says, startled, “Hosea and Grimshaw?” 

John nods. “I heard ‘em. I was diggin’ in the dirt by that big ol’ stump an’ I was eatin’ some cheese an’ then I heard the lady say ‘this ain’t no place for a child, I heard him cough’ only I wasn’t coughin’, I just had some crumbs in my throat, an’ then Hosea said ‘he ain’t settlin’ in so good an’ I think we oughta see if them nuns’ll take him,’ an’ Dutch weren’t there and now he’s gone they’re gonna take me back there an’ so I got my coat an’ I snuck off ‘fore they could catch me an’ I ain’t goin’ back, if you take me back they’re just gonna make me go back to the nuns an’ they’ll cook me an’ eat me an’ then I ran an’ I ran an’ I heard someone comin’ so I hid behind the graves only then I thought maybe it was dead folks so I waited an’ then I heard someone else comin’ but it was you an’ I ain’t goin’ back, I ain’t gonna let ‘em do it.” He breaks off, breathing hard. His cheeks are red. 

Arthur, a little dizzy trying to parse out that garbled spew of words, thinks he can see tears gathering in the corners of the kid’s eyes. Passing over, for the moment, the idea of cannibal nuns, he sighs and says, “Look, kid, ain’t nobody gonna send you anywhere without Dutch’s say-so, and Dutch ain’t decided yet.” 

John frowns. “But he went to jail.” 

“Yeah, dumbass, and I went and got him out,” Arthur says. “He’s out lookin’ for you right now.” 

The kid’s eyes get wide at that. Arthur sees him take a shaky little breath and whisper something to himself that Arthur can’t catch. 

“Come on,” he says, “I’m freezin’ my nuts off, and you ain’t gettin’ cooked alive by nobody this Christmas. Come on back, and I’ll tell Grimshaw an’ Hosea to lay off talkin’ about nuns.” He holds out his hand again. 

This time, after a little consideration, John takes it, tugging hard as he struggles up to his feet. Arthur’s astonished at how light he is; the kid weighs nearly nothing. He sets himself on his feet, pulls Grimshaw’s scarf over his grimy face, and looks up to Arthur. 

“An’ we’ll have pie?” he asks, hopefully. 

“Sure,” Arthur nods. “Pie and pig.” 

“I ain’t never had a Christmas dinner,” John tells him as they head back towards camp. 

“What, never?” 

John shrugs. He’s playing with the loose ends of his scarf, tossing them back and forth on his palms. “I heard about it, but I never had one. Me an’ pa, one time we stole a whole duck an’ he said that’s Christmas dinner, but it gave me the trots an’ I shit till I yelled.” 

“Thank you for that,” Arthur says. 

John nods, clambers over a wooden fence, and drops down the other side in a little flurry of snow. “What’s it like?” he asks, and the question’s so dumb and so oddly sweet that Arthur feels a little twinge in his chest. 

“I dunno,” he says. “Like a party, I guess. Folks make good food and talk and sing, and go to church I suppose, only I ain’t been since I was a little, little kid, littler than you.”

“I ain’t little,” John interjects, scrambling over a rock.

“Well, I was,” Arthur says. “But my ma used to make supper, and we’d have turkey and fish and ham and potatoes and beans, and after she’d play on her organ.” 

“What’s a organ,” John asks. 

“A kinda musical instrument,” Arthur tells him. He hasn’t thought about this in years, can only vaguely picture the boxy little organ in the corner, Mama’s pale hands on the keys. The melody’s long gone. “Sorta like a piano, I figure, only it’s got pipes and pedals. My ma had one from a catalogue, and she said it kept her company out there in the country.” He remembers that: the way she’d sit at the organ in the evenings, not even playing some nights, just sitting. The way she cried when they came back from town and the organ was gone, sold to a man Pa found looking to pay good money for a secondhand Beckwith for his wife. Arthur remembers that, all right. 

“So,” John says, “ya play music and ya eat?” 

“More or less,” Arthur says. “S’posed to be some kinda holy day, but mostly folks just like to eat.” 

They’re nearing camp, now, and Arthur can see the defensive curl in John’s shoulders. When he sees Dutch sitting at the camp table, though, he breaks away from Arthur’s side and dashes over, planting himself next to Dutch, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. 

“So you found him, Arthur,” Dutch greets him as Arthur approaches the table. 

“Out hidin’ in the graveyard,” Arthur says. “I guess he prefers the company of dead folks to ours.” Dutch laughs, and John scowls. 

“I weren’t hidin’,” he says. “And I didn’t see no dead folks.” 

Arthur leaves him with Dutch, leaning intently over Evelyn Miller’s America and shooting Dutch shy reverential looks, and goes to find Hosea. He’s by the fire, poking at the dull coals, and he raises a hand as Arthur approaches. 

“Found him all right?” 

Arthur hums his yes, settling himself on the log Dutch dragged out of the woods as a seat. “Told ‘im we’d have pie for Christmas,” he tells Hosea. “He liked that.” 

Hosea laughs. “Our little associate seems mightily driven by food,” he remarks drily. 

“Like a damn pig,” Arthur agrees. Hosea chuckles, stretching his legs out and lighting a cigarette. 

“I take it Dutch filled you in on his latest scheme,” he remarks, and Arthur can tell from the crinkle at the corner of his eye that excitement’s overtaken his annoyance at Dutch. 

“The Ashville thing? He mentioned it,” Arthur says. “Somethin’ about stealin’ the fella’s legacy, or something.” 

“Legacy, Arthur, is another word for a fat bank account,” Hosea says. “Besides, if we can play this thing right, there’s a roof over our heads in January. That boy’s already got a cough, and I for one would prefer not to spend the winter thawing out my backside every time I need to shit. I’ll need your help with the paperwork for this one, though.” 

Arthur nods, rubbing his hands together in the growing warmth from the fire, and feels odd. Doesn’t know why he feels, suddenly, choked. He feels the way he did when Hosea and Dutch first picked him up, as though any wrong word would have him out on his ear or worse. Like all his words were caught in his throat, because he couldn’t pick the ones that were right. 

Hosea, naturally, doesn’t miss a thing. “What’s on your mind?” 

Arthur hesitates, chewing his lip, thinking about John’s blank, tearful face; about Mama crying the night the Beckwith disappeared; about old Leslie Ashville alone in his house on Cherry Street, talking to people who aren’t there. About the look on John’s face, hope and wonderment, when Arthur said Dutch was looking. For him.

“He’s scared of us,” he says finally. “Scared of you. And Grimshaw, but that’s—I mean, she scares everyone.” 

Hosea snorts gently, but all he says is, “Give him time.” 

“How much time?” Arthur says. “Dutch ain’t said if he’s staying with us.” 

“Dutch’ll decide when the time’s right,” Hosea says, as if that settles it. As if Arthur hasn’t heard John whimpering in his sleep every damn night since they picked him up. Arthur turns to look at him and Dutch—two dark heads matched at the table—and hopes the right time’s soon. 

ii.

The house on Cherry Street is three dusty stories of Italianate brick, lit from within by a dozen candles. From the street, it looks warm, even festive—someone’s hung a grand ring of pine and holly on the heavy oak door—but as soon as Hosea steps inside, he feels the chill. It’s different from the brisk winter evening outside: a dry, sickly cold that seeps through Hosea’s coat and settles along the joints of his bones. 

Someone’s dying in this house. Hosea’s felt that cold before. 

He follows the maid down the hallway to the parlor, past the cavernous recesses of unlit rooms.  Behind the false front of lamps, this house is dark and silent, save the single corridor of light that traces a line down its center. Hosea watches a chandelier of thick, ugly crystals sway mutely above his head as he passes beneath, and fixes his mind on his story. 

It’s his second visit to the Ashville mansion. On the first, he introduced himself as William Ashville, the long-lost offspring of the affair a group of Ashville Steel workers told Hosea about over bad whiskey at the Red Hen. It seems the story’s well known among Ashville’s discontented employees: the lady’s name was Eleanor, and Ashville promised her marriage, then left her at the altar and came west instead to make his fortune off the work of honest men. Nobody’s been able to give Hosea an exact date, but one fellow, with a rough white beard and teeth so sparse and loose Hosea suspects he lost one in his beer over the course of the conversation, remembered the year Ashville turned up in Chicago as 1856, so Hosea’s dated the affair to about thirty years ago. He considered, briefly, having Dutch step in as the prodigal bastard, but this part requires a delicacy that Dutch, for all his charms, lacks. Besides, Hosea flatters himself that he can still play thirty. He borrowed a bit of Dutch’s pomade for the occasion, and a little of Susan’s face powder—and besides, old Ashville’s eyesight isn’t that good. 

All in all, Ashville took the news of his unwitting fatherhood surprisingly well. Hosea, who after thirty-odd years of disregard for the fairer sex unexpectedly became surrogate parent to an unwashed teenage criminal, can attest to the shock that comes with that sort of arrival. True, there was a moment of initial skepticism from Ashville, but the family bible Hosea produced (purchased from a bookseller in the Levee, embellished by Arthur with the names of a whole fictitious lineage for poor forgotten William Ashville) seemed to turn the tide of his disbelief, and the love letter Hosea wrote after making a study of Ashville’s handwriting clinched the story. Today, Hosea’s back, in character as young William, with two missions: to lend cheer to his aging father’s lonely indisposition, and to lift a copy of the old man’s will. 

He hears Ashville’s voice before they reach the parlor: halting, guttural, like water through a clogged pipe. He’s murmuring about the newspaper, about catching a train. The maid leads Hosea into the room, where an unfed fire lights a frail circle around Ashville’s chair and casts long shadows across the rich Turkish carpet, and Hosea can see that it’s empty; that Ashville’s talking to no one. 

“Sir?” the maid says, leaning down to the high upholstered chair by the hearth. “Young Mr. William here to see you.” 

Mr. Leslie Ashville, sole owner and proprietor of the Ashville Steel Works, looks molded of lean clay. He’s wrapped in a brocade robe that looks like it hasn’t been washed since the early ‘70s, his head bare save the airy thatch of white hair shrouding the glare of his scalp. Hosea finds him fascinatingly grotesque. 

“Good evening, father,” he says, settling in the chair across from Ashville, who acknowledges his presence with a faint hum that turns into a cough. 

“Is that you, William?” he croaks, finally, and Hosea leans closer to take his hand. 

“I’m here.” 

“Thought I saw your mother last night,” Ashville rasps. “Thought I heard her, in the walls.” 

“Perhaps it was her spirit,” Hosea offers. “I do believe she’s glad to see us reunited.” There’s a bulk of shadow off behind Ashville’s right shoulder in the general shape of a writing desk. Hosea makes a note, and refocuses his attention on Ashville. 

“She was beautiful, your mother,” the old man says, and then he’s off chasing the thread of that long-forgotten memory, a thread that seems to unravel every time he reaches another knot. Hosea plays the dream-weaver, dropping a hint or a suggestion every time he hears the man’s voice falter. It’s fragments he offers the old man, things that could have belonged in any lifetime, things easily forgotten and more easily misremembered: the color of a dress, the fate of an old school friend, the name of a parson or a shopkeeper; always just enough to get Ashville’s feet back under him and send him off along another strand of reminiscence. Together, between Ashville’s dying memory and Hosea’s healthy imagination, the two of them write Leslie and Eleanor’s love story by the light of the fading fire as the evening deepens into night. 

The bells of St. Clement’s are chiming ten when it finally happens: Ashville stammers, trails off, and doesn’t look to Hosea for the next line of his memory-fantasy. Instead, his ancient head droops and lolls magnificently, and after a moment’s pause Hosea hears a loud, guttering snore. Ashville’s asleep. 

Finally. 

Easing himself off the slick horsehair of his seat, Hosea crosses to the shadowy desk he noticed earlier in the evening. It’s a heavy thing, made of rich cherrywood and full of drawers and cracks and pigeonholes. Hosea returns to the center of the parlor for a candle, and sets to work searching the desk, an ear out for the maid’s footstep or a shift in Ashville’s steady, ugly breath. 

An hour later, he’s slipping out the front door into the midnight chill, bidding the maid a happy Christmas, with the thin pages of Leslie Ashville’s will flat against his side under his heavy coat. He found the lockbox easily enough, stowed in a deep drawer under a sheaf of old bills and past due correspondence, and five minutes was all it took to break the lock while Ashville snored in his seat ten paces away. The will itself is simple: all Ashville’s wealth and property deeded to his nephew Fred Ashville, the current junior proprietor of Ashville Steel and the devil himself as far as most of the working population of the west side’s concerned. Hosea thinks, as he makes his way down Cherry Street under a soft flurry of snow, that they’ll be doing mankind two services this December: keeping Leslie Ashville company on his trip towards the undiscovered country, and seeing to it that Fred Ashville never prospers again. 

The campfire’s burning unusually bright when Hosea makes his way through the last bent hickories of Bachelor’s Grove. At first, Hosea thinks it must be Dutch who’s up, caught in one of those odd brain fevers where he can’t sleep till he’s filled fifty pages with words about God and death and man’s perverse indifference to nature—but when he gets closer he sees that it isn’t Dutch at all. It’s John, hunched gracelessly on one of the logs like a disgruntled little bullfrog, tossing little twigs and dead leaves into the flames to watch them sizzle and smoke. His lips are moving, but from his distance Hosea can’t tell what he’s saying. It occurs to Hosea that he’s spent quite a lot of his time lately in the company of people who talk to the air around them. 

That’s the thing that worries Hosea. It’s not the taking him in—they’ve done as much before, and not only with Arthur. Hosea knows what it’s like to be ten and cold and empty as a tomb on Judgment Day, and he’s not about to turn away hungry mouths when there’s room at the fire and enough in the pot to go round. Besides, he’s never regretted letting Arthur stay. But Arthur was fourteen, not twelve, and Arthur didn’t talk to people who aren’t there. Arthur was just a kid whose father hit him too much, and a damn good thief. John’s something else, and after weeks Hosea still isn’t sure exactly what. 

Hosea approaches the fire, and John starts, shoving his hands under his armpits as though Hosea just caught him doing something bad. 

“It’s late,” Hosea observes. 

John shrugs. “I’m not tired.” His eyes are huge in the firelight, and Hosea has the feeling he often gets when John looks at him—that the kid is sizing him up, calculating where to strike if trouble starts. 

“I can see that,” Hosea says. 

“Is he dead?” John asks. Arthur’s been telling him about the scheme, then. Hosea makes no pretense of sensitivity when it comes to death, but having spent a full evening playing the loving son to Ashville, Sr., he feels a mite put off by the ghoulishness of the question. 

“Old Ashville? Not yet,” he says. “Go to bed.” 

John doesn’t go to bed. He leans back, firelight catching the ragged ends of his hair, and says, “I seen a fella die once.” 

“So have I,” Hosea tells him. 

“He was coughin’,” John goes on, undeterred. “Blood was comin’ out of his mouth, an’ out of his nose, an’ all down his shirt an’ then—” he pauses dramatically, gathering a handful of rotting leaves into his grubby hand, “—then he shit in his pants, an’ a whole lot of blood came out his mouth, an’ the lady said he’s really dead now.” He tosses the bundle of leaves into the fire, which sends up a small gasp of muddy smoke. Hosea wonders who the lady was. Wonders where this child’s been, to tell that kind of story. 

He doesn’t ask. “You’ve been dreaming,” he says, and it’s less a guess than most of what he spun for Ashville earlier tonight. He’s seen that spooked look before—seen it in Arthur’s eyes when he was barely older than John and still fighting his father off in his sleep; seen it in his cousin’s eyes when he came back from Sharpsburg a leg light and ten times heavier for it; seen it in Dutch, sometimes, too. Hosea knows too well what nightmares look like. 

John scrubs at the snot trailing from his nose and shrugs. “I seen it,” is all he says. But he shudders, and his skinny shoulders hunch smaller against the night. 

He’s clearly not going to go back to bed, and in a way, Hosea can’t see why he should have to. It’s well past midnight now, but Hosea isn’t tired either. The moon’s high, the air’s quiet, and he’s got a job to do. He might as well have some company while he does it.

“Come on,” he says, waving towards the table. John follows him over, and Hosea draws Leslie Ashville’s will from under his coat and spreads the pages across the pocked wood. John, who can’t read and tried to bite Dutch when he offered a lesson, peers at the frail sheets with the curiosity of a spider inspecting a particularly fearsome fly. 

“Now,” Hosea begins, “what we’ve got to do is this.” 

iii.

On Christmas Eve, something happens. 

John isn’t sure at first what’s happened, only that folks are talking real loud and nobody’s telling him anything, but that’s not new. He goes into the trees and finds a big old stick and hits a stump till it falls into soft, stinking rubble, and stamps in the snow till there’s a flat circle all around. There’s a fat squirrel running around the base of a tree a ways off, and it stops for a minute and sniffs in John’s direction. 

“I ain’t smelly,” he tells the squirrel. “An’ I ain’t stupid.” 

The squirrel twitches and scoots away, tiny claws on the snow. 

“John!” Arthur calls, and John kicks bits of rotten wood across the ground until Arthur comes through the trees. “Get your coat on,” he says, nodding back towards camp; “we’re goin’ into town.” 

“Why,” John asks. He thinks about a wagon full of kids, rolling through the iron gates of the orphanage. He thinks he could kill Arthur, if he tried to put him in there. Kick his nuts, put his thumbs in his eyes and squeeze the jelly out, like that fella did to Pa in the bar, get his gun off him and point it to his heart. 

If he had to do it, he thinks he could. He’d be sad about it after, though. He likes Arthur. 

“Ashville’s dead,” Arthur’s saying. His face is split with a grin; John’s never seen him smile much. “We’re gonna be rich. We’re gettin’ the house.” 

“Oh,” John says. He can see the old man in his head, wrinkled and tiny in a house like a tomb, the way Hosea told him the night he came back with that secret pack of papers. Worms in his nose. Gobs of blood pouring, pouring out of his slack, black mouth. “Really?” 

“Really.” 

It’s a cold ride into town, perched on the back of Arthur’s horse with his arms tight around Arthur’s middle. John can hear Dutch talking up ahead, but the wind’s too quick to hear the words. John probably wouldn’t understand it anyway. He can’t understand half what Dutch says. He’s never met anyone as smart as that. He wonders when Dutch is going to find out that John’s dumb as a rock. Dumb as a rock and the devil in him, that’s what people say. Dutch don’t seem to mind the devil so much, though. John doesn’t know what to think about that. 

How exactly they got this house, John still doesn’t understand. Hosea took that dead man’s sheaf of papers, and said we’ll write these out again, and he and Arthur sat at the table for hours inking and scratching till Hosea said it was all perfect, and then there was some meetings with lawyers and magistrates and aldermen, and then it was all done, only the old man weren’t dead. John asked if Dutch was going to kill him, but Dutch just laughed and said I ain’t a murderer, I’m a philanthropist, and Hosea said that’s my old dad you’re talking about, and now John isn’t sure. But Arthur said it’s like a game, don’t you worry, and when the old man dies we’ll take his house, and now he’s dead. John squeezes a little tighter around Arthur’s middle, and tugs himself closer in the saddle. 

They’re riding through the grand part of town now, the part where every house has three floors and curly carvings on the windowsills and a pretty little tree out front all its own. John remembers sleeping here one night last summer, after Pa died, in a little stand of apple trees behind one of the mansions. He ate the hard little apples off the ground till his stomach hurt, and fell asleep in a shed, and in the morning an old African man came along and told him to run or he’d be in a pile of trouble, so John ran. He’s scanning the houses as they pass, trying to remember which one it was with the apples and the old man who said to run. 

The house where Ashville died is cold, and it smells like dust. John watches Arthur and Dutch and Hosea and Miss Grimshaw striding through the halls, crowing and laughing and saying Shakespeare, and looks to see if he can spot the place where the old man died. But there’s no blood on the floors or the furniture, just warm leather and shiny velvet and wood that gleams like gold when Dutch pulls back the heavy curtains and lets the winter sun spill over the room. 

“Merry Christmas,” Dutch booms, and Hosea says “hear, hear,” and John wonders if the ghosts can hear them too. 

Arthur takes him upstairs. Upstairs is a row of rooms, each the size of a house, each full of cobwebs and dead beetles and beds with heavy ceilings. Arthur tugs the curtains aside in each room while John sneezes in the bright dust and pokes at the silky wallpaper. 

Then Miss Grimshaw comes up the winding staircase and sets them to work, hauling carpetbags up the stairs and beating dust out of the duvets with an old broom from the kitchen. She snaps orders like a policeman and drags John by her iron knuckles to a room at the end of the musty hall and tells him it’s his. John suspects a trap, but Arthur laughs and says I ain’t bunkin’ with you no more, and John understands. After supper that night, when Dutch and Hosea pop open a bottle of wine they found in the cellar and Arthur starts singing and Hosea says John can’t have any wine and Dutch says it’s all right and Grimshaw says it ain’t, John sneaks upstairs to the Room That’s His, and wonders when they’ll drop him at the orphanage. 

He’s lying in the dust, watching moonlight crawl over the tall windows, when he hears the voice. It doesn’t sound like Dutch or Hosea or Arthur, but it’s a man, and it’s saying his name. 

John. 

John. 

John stands up. The door to the hallway opens, opens without him touching it, and on the other side’s a man who looks familiar. He’s not tall and he’s not short, with a little mustache and a fancy suit, and his hat reaches towards the ceiling and his eyes are fixed on John’s heart and not his face. 

“John,” he says, “I’ve missed you.” 

Then his face swells and melts. His eyes are hot black hollows, crawling with white worms, blood pouring out his mouth. John watches the river of black gore, swimming down his front, running over the rich, dusty carpet, the smell of shit rising thick and hot around him, and the man twitches and moans and heaves. Blood pouring out his mouth. John tries to scream and he can’t scream, he can’t breathe, and the smell of blood and shit makes him gag and retch, and the blood keeps coming, a black waterfall streaming from the strange man’s face as he sways and leers and shimmers in the dark. 

“John!” 

Someone’s holding his shoulders, shaking him. There’s carpet under his feet, warm and soft, and he gags, and hears Arthur say shit.  

He opens his eyes. He’s in the dark, in the hallway, and Arthur’s here in a big white shirt with his hair mussed up from sleep. He’s got John by the shoulders, and he’s got an odd look on his face, like something bad is happening, and John wonders if it’s happening to him. 

He looks worried, John realizes with a muffled shock. 

“You okay?” he’s asking, and John shakes his head before he can think about it. His heart’s beating like an army drum. He thinks he can feel it shaking his whole body. He steps from foot to foot on the swampy carpet, and realizes his pants are wet. “What happened,” Arthur asks. 

John’s stomach jerks and twists inside of him. If he tells Arthur the truth, he’ll be gone by morning. 

Arthur’s hand’s at the back of his head, in his hair, steady and warm. 

“Come on, kid.” 

John sucks in air. 

“It was him,” he whispers. “It was the devil.” 

Blood pouring out his mouth.

Arthur sighs, a little sound that’s almost a laugh, and says, “There ain’t no devil here. You had a dream.” He leans in, smelling like wine and horse, and pats John on the back, one arm around him pressing close, his scratchy chin brushing against John’s forehead. John thinks it’s a hug. He doesn’t know what that means. 

“I ain’t good,” John starts to tell him—heart in his stomach, stomach in his throat. “I’m crazy an’ I’m bad an’ I got the devil in me an’ he follows me an’ last year he made me shoot a man till his brains came out through his nose an’ the nuns’ll give me back to him,” but Arthur stops him, hand on his cheek, shaking his head and saying no, no, forget all that, you’re dreamin’, there ain’t no devil and there ain’t no nuns here. You’re home now, John. Forget that.

In the end, Arthur picks John up like he’s a kid, and John’s too tired to complain. He wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck and lets him carry him down the hall, away from the room with the devil’s blood soaking into the floor and into Arthur’s room, where there’s a heap of orange coals in the hearth and a wooly blanket that Arthur wraps him in once his sodden pants are gone. They sit by the fire, John a mute cocoon and Arthur more than half asleep, and Arthur pulls out his notebook and shows John a funny drawing of a man with an apple for a head. 

John thinks about home. 

“You’re a good kid,” Arthur says, his voice soft and silly. He’s drunk. “Dutch ain’t gonna send you back, y’know.” 

John’s throat aches like there’s someone punching it. His cheeks are hot, lit up by the fire and the tears spilling up and over his eyelids. He can’t answer back. He thinks about a flat plain, gray grass wrinkled by the wind, and a heap of rocks at the edge of a hill. He can’t get the picture out of his head. Can’t get the devil’s voice out of his throat. 

“You’re home,” Arthur says, and the warmth of the fire swallows him up, and he sobs into Arthur’s side for a long time. 

Down the hallway, in the darkness, the door swings silently open and shut.

[lumin3xe]

"Campus." Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader

Letter 💌, hello again it's me again!! so I just wanted to say thank you for the support on my last post !! It's not a lot but thank you so much!! anyways that's all for now! Now please remember to take care of yourself and youre amazing!! 😌💖💖

P.S, so again this is my first time writing with a character like yamaguchi so I heavily apologize if he's a bit OOC and I apologize if he's a bit starstruck- it's just that your so amazing 🥺👉👈

ALSO! this place takes in Karasuno highschool where the first years are second years and the second years third years :)) (ALSO JUST IMAGINE THE ACTAL CAMPUS IS THE ENTRANCE HSUVYBI8

Has been edited but if any spelling errors, grammar errors or if anything doesn’t make sense, please DM me!

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

Warnings, fluff LOL

Song, “Campus" By Vampire Weekend.

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“I wake up, my shoulders cold”

Yamaguchi sat up on his bed, waking up to the sound of his alarm clock beeping as he looked over to it as it says “6:29 AM” letting out a sigh as he got up, letting the cold hit him. “I’ve got to leave here, before I go” lifting his legs over another to get off the bed then walking towards the bathroom- grabbing a towel and some clothes aswell, as he walked to the bathroom he then closed the door behind once he was in. Setting the towel on the counter then turning on the facet on towards hot- the water was warm but not to hot, he then let the water spring out of the shower head as he stared to get undress. (I’m sorry I can’t HSHSGVG- DUDE MY FACE IS TO RED RN I CANT HAHA- I cannot write yamaguchi showering I’m sorry my mind is not okay HSGSGNHHASH-) after he was done- he turned the facet the downwards to turn it off, as he got out of the shower he then grabbing the towel on the counter, putting the towel around his waist, and then soon drying himself and getting dressed. (How do guys get dressed please tell me bc I have no idea-)

“I pull my shirt on, walk out the door” Yamaguchi walked out of the bathroom and made his way to his room, soon then he checked the time “6:54 AM” it read. “Drag my feet along the floor” He then started to hurried to his room pulling out one of the drawlers, looking to see if he can find a sweater he could wear- he then grabbed his volleyball  sweater, Putting it on—he aswell grabbed his bag, then walking out of his room, to put on his shoes to leave for school. “I pull my shirt on, walk out the door” Walking out of his house, closing the door behind him as turned around to lock it. “Drag my feet along the floor” When he was done, the green hair boy turned around to see a familiar blond with glasses walking by, (this was of course Tsukishima lol) then yamaguchi shouted out his nickname for the blond as the green haired boy was waving to him aswell. Soon a few minutes went by with just silence. Soon enough they had made up to his collage. “Then I see you,” Something had caught Yamaguchi eye while walking with his friend, he then looked to the mysterious figure that bypassed him. “You’re walking cross the campus” He stoped, like actually stopped, he really just laid eyes on the cutest person he’s ever seen. L/N F/N. And if on cue the wind suddenly blew making L/N hair flow elegantly as long with the outfit that L/N was wearing. Everything just so slow when he looked at them. (If your hair is really short then just imagine a slight breeze hitting your or sm LMAO-) “Cruel professor” Yamaguchi looked at them with his face red and with legit heart eyes as he stared at them just memorized just how L/N looked. “Studying Romances” As L/N walked farther and farther Tsukishima turned back seeing his friend just randomly standing there with a red face, he curiously asked his friend if he was coming “You coming Tadashi?” “How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?” “Oh uh y-yeah!” Yamaguchi stuttered, well now his friend knew, tsukishima just starred at him wondering if he was okay, a few more seconds had passed and tsukishima was kinda worried “Are you okay?” The blond asked while the green hair clenched his backpack straps as he ran up to then blonde.

“You sick or something?”

Yamaguchi noodled no and apologized while he tried not to think of you. “How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?” But he couldn’t stop. “Walk to class in front of ya” As Tsukishima and Yamaguchi made there way to there classes, Tsukishima was nice enough to give Yamaguchi a carton of milk to make him calm down a bit since yamaguchi was THAT red (he just can’t resist that you look so cute LMAO-) When he was making his way to his classes with his friend, he was so caught up with looking at the floor and him siping on the straw that was poked in the milk carton, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t get his mind off-

“Tadashi watch out-“

“Huh tsuki?-“

“Ah!”

“Spilled kefir”

Yamaguchi wasn’t paying attention and that caused him to bump into L/N.

“On your keffiyah”

The milk carton had somehow opened and just spilled over L/N shirt, the liquid slowly leaking into the fabric of the shirt, thankfully L/N weren’t wearing a white shirt that day.

“You look inside and turn to the door”

Yamaguchi looked at L/N quickly realizing that was the person he was staring at earlier and that made him so flustered then he couldn’t even think straight. “Ah shoot! I’m so-“ L/N saying before yamaguchi cut her off apologizing frantically

“ohmygoshimsorryIwasntlookingwhereIwasgoingandohmygoshthisissoembarrassingareyouokay-“

“Oh my I-“

“ImsosorryIreallydidngmeanitIcanbuyyouanew-“

“Tadashi shut up, it’s fine.” Tsukishima sternly said while the blond put his hand on yamaguchi’s shoulder trying to reassure that it was fine.

L/N then smiled to yamaguchi “what he said, it’s fine don’t worry about it!” L/N smiled once more “you don’t need to buy me a..new shirt? I can just wash mine later” they smiled once more, yamaguchi felt even more embarrassed as he watched them move.

“Drag your feet along the floor”

L/N held on to their bag strap while walking in to there classroom “now I gotta get to class, but maybe I’ll see you around!” “Wait uh!-” L/N turned back towards Yamaguchi waiting for him to say something “your shirt- I uh-” Yamaguchi took off his bag setting it besides him and started to take off his sweater and handled it to L/N, Yamaguchi was VERY red, he was looking off to the ground, he didn’t want to speak because if he tried to, he would sure he would make a fool out of himself.

“Oh! are you sure I can take this?”

Yamaguchi nodded as L/N took the sweater putting it on, smiling—they let out a small giggle that made yamaguchi heart skip a beat. L/N thanked him and soon the sound of L/N shoes were gone and soon weren’t hearable, while yamaguchi heart beat was very hearable and still there.

Yamaguchi looked onto the floor once more as they began walking. 

“Then I see you,”

Yamaguchi was still embarrassed about what happened earlier, heck he even gave L/N his own sweater, sure he was still red but goodness when you smiled? And when you laughed???? He would absolutely do anything just to see them smile or even laugh again, to be honest he could honestly feel how red is face right now. Just thinking about L/N made his head hurt and his heart beat fast. Wait a minute did he just hear his heart? There was no way his heartbeat was THAT loud, Yamaguchi head titled upwards looking for something, maybe someone?

“You’re walking cross the campus”

Not even a minute later yamaguchi saw L/N figure walking closer to him, L/N was there with phone in their hands.

“Cruel professor”

L/N probably didn’t notice Yamaguchi just freaking out, what was he supposed to do? Say hi to them? Ignore L/N to wait until they notice him???

“Studying Romances”

As if he wasn’t fast enough L/N was already almost there with Yamaguchi freaking out, he desperately looked around, why was he looking around???

“Tadashi are you sure you’re okay?” Yamaguchi quickly looked to his blond hair friend, Tsukishima was looking ahead of them while Yamaguchi was about to say something but the blond beat him to it “You seem out of it today. Is it because that person we met today?”

“How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?”

“W-what no of course not-“ He fiddled with his fingers frantically, was it because of L/N? Who knows- well Yamaguchi knows and possibly Tsukishima does aswell.

“How am I supposed to pretend, I never wanna see you again?”

Tsukishima waited for his friends response, knowing that yamaguchi straight up lied to him. (Lets just pretend he’s okay with this one lie but remember y’all, lying isn’t okay, no matter what situation your in.)

“Well..I don’t think so?” “You don’t think so? Every time you look at them your face is red” Yamaguchi was surprised- ‘wait so he knew the whole time?’ Yamaguchi thought while Tsukishima continue to talk, “don’t think I haven’t noticed, you said you wanted to buy them a new shirt even if they could wash it, and you gave them your sweater too.”

“Tsuki yeah but-“

“In the afternoon, you’re on the stone and grass,”

Yamaguchi was suddenly on the floor and L/N was on the floor aswell while Tsukishima was standing there with a concernd face for both of the two.

“And I’m sleeping on the balcony after class”

Yamaguchi rubbed his head, confused on what just happened, wasn’t he just talking to Tsukishima? Why was he on the floor?

“In the afternoon, you’re on the stone and grass,”

“Oh my goodness are you okay?” Yamaguchi looked up to see L/N holding out a hand, ‘they look so much cuter up close-waitwhtaamI-’ He looked at them with heart eyes and blinked causing him to realize what just happened, he then took L/N hand while L/N pulled yamaguchi up from the ground

“And I’m sleeping on the balcony after class”

“Are you okay?” Yamaguchi shyly responded “yeah.. um- look I’m sorry-“ L/N cut off yamaguchi while bringing his hand close to there chest holding yamaguchi hand.

 “no I’m sorry really, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Yamaguchi was probably the definition of a tomato “I- uh it’s okay- you-“ yamaguchi was a stuttering mess while L/N just laughed it off

“So.. are you okay?”

Yamaguchi nodded while L/N smiled 

“Well that’s a relief haha”

L/N giggled as Yamaguchi face grew redder, L/N continued to talk.

“So.. my name is L/N F/N what’s yours?”

“Oh um- my name is Yamaguchi Tadashi..”

“thats a nice name” they smiled once more

“Well it’s nice to meet you Yamaguchi”

Yamaguchi face was a tomato right now, like he’s the definition of it because of L/N, Yamaguchi then blinked and stammered out

“Y-you to L/N!”

OH MY GOSH THAT LITERALLY TOOK HALF THE DAY I AM SO SORRY HAHBSE- Anyways thank you for reading this mess! and I hope y’all had a nice day and pls take care of yourself 🥺🥺💖💖💖 also I’m sorry if the ending seemed like it was rushed, it kinda was but I wanted it to seem kind of nice lol!

Also part two of “treehouse”  is coming tomorrow so keep an eye out tomorrow!!  Also tsukishima was nowhere to be found after this LMAO-

[igirisuhito]

Title: Blue Ram Relationship(s): Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime Rating: Explicit Summary: Hinata thinks he has his sexuality all figured out. Until one day a pretty woman comes to his workplace in the dead of night. Posted for Day 1 of @tropicaldespair‘s #SDR2Giftober Trigger Warnings: Cross-dressing, Semi-public sex, Powerplay, Sexual frustration, Rough sex, Perving a stranger, I’m sorry all the triggery things are horny

[Ao3 Link]

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Hinata Hajime was a regular teenage boy.

He has high grades and attends an elite school, sure. But like most teenage boys, his spare time was spent playing video games, working his part time job, or jacking off to hot girls on the internet.

As vanilla as a teenage boy could get.

Hinata works as a cashier at a convenience store a block from his house. It's your average suburban Japanese 7/11, an average teenage boy's job.

He works this job most nights, and usually does a longer shift on Sundays. In all honesty, he probably works a bit too much, but tuition for Hope’s Peak Academy is incredibly expensive. He had been enough of a burden to his parents for all these years. Besides, here he can continue to fuel his addiction to cup ramen and kusamochi for a conveniently cheaper price.

And that's exactly what he was doing on this humid Saturday night. The rainy season was finally here, and the warmth was making Hinata's work shirt stick to his skin uncomfortably. The air conditioner in the break room wasn't strong enough to combat heat like this.

It had been a quiet night, likely due to the sheer amount of rain pouring down outside. Hinata was the only one on shift, and even he had resorted to hiding in the break room to read manga. It was difficult to focus due to the loud pelting of the rain on the roof and the dizzying humidity hanging in the air.

Hinata yawned, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes that were lazily wiped away. It wasn't unusual for him to work a late six-to-two shift on a Saturday, but end of term exams had been knocking him around quite a bit. The struggle of juggling both studying and work has been causing him to become more tired than usual.

A loud electronic bell and the sound of the automatic doors sliding open broke him from his daze. Placing his manga face down on the table, Hinata stood up from his chair and made his way out of the break room before sliding into his place behind the counter.

Clearing his throat quietly, he put on his best customer service voice. "Good evening! Is there anything I can help you with?"

He glanced towards the door, seeking out the person who was dumb enough to go shopping at 12am in the pouring rain. He was met with a pair of grey eyes boring a hole into him, analysing intensely for any sort of reaction. Hinata's breath caught in his throat.

Standing near the door was a young woman, quite tall for a girl. Her white hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, still dripping with water from the rain. Dark mascara was thickly applied to her long eyelashes, so long he actually assumed they were fake at first glance. Red lipstick had been painted onto her small yet pointed lips and eye shadow of a similar colour was dusted on her eyelids. The bold colours of her makeup contrasted gorgeously against her pale skin. It was surprising that it hadn't washed off in the rain.

A tight black dress with thick straps clung to her body, fabric hugging at her hips and chest in a way that revealed she was lacking in the latter department. Sheer black stockings stretched over her skinny legs, ending in tall red high stilettos that could probably be used to kill a man if she so desired.

Hinata felt dizzy, blood rushing to his face as he brought his gaze back up to where the attractive woman's own was waiting.

"Ah… No… I'm quite alright…" The girl averted her eyes from his. "Thank you."

Her voice was surprisingly deep and sultry, it made her all the more attractive. Though she seemed somewhat shaken, perhaps even nervous?

The lady slowly made her way over to the snacks section, her heels clacking loudly against the floor with every step. Hinata watched closely, entranced by the gorgeous woman he probably had no right to be staring at as hard as he was.

She bent down to pick up a pack of salted pretzel sticks and Hinata just couldn't resist the urge to sneak a peek. He had always been more of an ass kind of guy anyway.

During his ogling, he couldn't help noticing a few small tears in her stockings, just below where her dress ended. His mind quickly became overcome with a dirty thought so jarring that it made him realize just how perverted he was being. For his own moral's sake, he forced his eyes away into another aisle, hoping she hadn't somehow been able to feel his stare.

She straightened herself up again and grabbed a cold can of Blue Ram from the fridge nearby before heading to the counter where Hinata waited. He avoided her eyes as he scanned her items.

"T-That comes to a total of 500 yen." He mumbled, finding himself blushing madly now that she was so close, enough so to smell the flowery perfume wafting off of her. Get a grip, Hajime!  

The lady smiled and patted her hands on her hips performatively. "O-Oh dear… it seems I've forgotten my purse!"

What? Are you serious? As if I'm going to fall for that.  

Scoffing silently, Hinata stared down at his shiny black work shoes.

"P-Please don't worry about the cost, m-ma'am." He stammered out.

WHAT?! Stop thinking with your dick! That's your goddamn allowance!!

A toothed grin crawled up on the woman's face as she towered over the other boy, suddenly gaining an air of confidence. "Aren't you a sweetheart! Thank you very much-" She glanced down at his nametag, " Hinata-kun. "

She picked up her items before leaving the store, making her way back out into the pouring rain. She left Hinata red faced and humiliated, wondering if he would ever see her again, hear his name on her lips…

He shook his head, snapping out of his daze. Why did he let that happen? That woman knew exactly what she was doing. It wasn't even like she was a smooth older woman either, she was pretty young! And he just let her walk all over him in those fancy high heels.

He grumbled as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket, adding the missing cost to the till. Now he not only had a hard-on but he was out of pocket 500 yen as well.

With a loud sigh, Hinata made his way to the back room, determined to do something about his newfound problem.

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Hinata found himself still thinking about that mesmerising bitch of a woman 3 days later during a quiet afternoon shift. The rainy weather had eased off for the day, the sweltering sun shining through the poorly cleaned windows. Studying in the barely air-conditioned Reserve Course building all day had already left him in a particularly crabby mood. It seems he can't escape the heat anywhere.  

He truly envied the Main Course students for a lot of things. Their talent, their privilege, their dormitories, their stupid uniforms, their obnoxious laughter as they ate. He especially hated the way they tried to steal stuff from the store despite the fact they could absolutely afford it and then proceeding to complain to the school and get him in trouble with his boss purely for doing his fucking job.

Hinata really did not like the Main Course students.

Which is why his mood grew even more sour now that there were a bunch of them eating here today. Another cackle echoed through the store, causing Hinata's shoulders to tense up in frustration.

The obnoxious laugh seemed to come from this boy with neon pink hair who was sporting an ugly blue jumpsuit. He slurped his soba loudly as he chatted amongst the other two students beside him. They consisted of a boy and a girl, both clothed in the Main Course's rich brown uniform.

The girl had long blonde hair that cascaded elegantly down her back, she didn't seem like she was Japanese, though. Perhaps an international exchange student? And the boy had dark hair styled in a flashy unusual manner paired with mismatched eyes. If his goal was to make people look at him funny, he was definitely succeeding.  

Hinata leaned onto the counter with a sigh, resting his head upon his elbows. His shift had just barely started yet he was already so, so bored. His coworker was hiding out in the back doing god knows what, leaving most of the grunt work to Hinata yet again . Jeez, and the guy wonders why he never bothered to remember his name.

The warm weather pulled at Hinata's consciousness, causing his eyelids to droop shut as he receded into his thoughts. He’d been conjuring up an elaborate fantasy that he found himself regularly indulging in the last few days whenever he had the time to.

It would go down on another rainy evening, the lady would come in wearing white shirt, so completely soaked that Hinata could see the lacy black brassiere underneath.  

There would be tears running down her face, smearing her makeup in a way that she still remained beautiful. She had just been dumped by her boyfriend, all alone and out in the rain, just seeking someone to care for her, to listen to her woes. Hinata would listen, take care of her, maybe wrap her up in a towel and sit her down in the back room.

She would confess that she felt feelings for him when he paid for her food, that he supported her in a time of need. She would thank him over and over again, offering to make up for it with her body. Hinata would politely decline, but she would insist, already unbuttoning her shirt.  

He would take her there, bend her over the table and make her feel pleasure like she never had before. He’d thrust so deeply that she would be crying, cumming over and over again from his well-sized cock. He would grab that little ponytail of hers and pull her face up, kissing her so passionately that he smeared lipstick across his own lips.

And finally he would cum deep inside of her (she would be using birth control, of course, Hinata isn’t ready for kids).

Afterwards, he’d call her a taxi, and she would leave her number, thanking him for the best night of her life. Perhaps she would come back, and they would fuck again and again.

The electronic bell dinged, tearing Hinata away from his sweet, sweet fantasy. The automatic doors opened and in stepped another student donning a Main Course uniform and a face mask.

Hinata rolled his eyes. "Welcome! Can I be of any ser-"

"KOMAEDA?!"

He found himself cut off by a loud screech from the pink haired student. Said student jumped up out of his seat and backed off. "Wh-why are you here! Since when did you come here?"

The dark haired one spoke. "Souda, you behave as if you have just witnessed an apparition. Does Komaeda truly strike such fear into your heart?"

"Of course he does! Nothing good ever happens when he's around! I always end up getting hurt!" The pink haired boy, who Hinata presumed to be named 'Souda', protested loudly.

The blonde girl stood up, slamming her palms on the table. "Souda! That is no way to treat your fellow classmates!"

"A-Ah, you're right… sorry, Miss Sonia…."

The student who had just entered the store laughed in a way that was honestly kind of creepy. It was just way too breathy, too pained.

"No, it's completely understandable! I'm sorry that somebody as terrible as myself has caused made you worry for your safety..."

What was that kid's name, Komaeda?

"I'll make this brief, I only came to get a drink." Eyes crinkling from what Hinata presumed to be a smile, Komaeda proceeded to walk away from the group of students.

The blonde girl, Sonia, if he wasn’t mistaken, gave Souda a glare before hopping out of her seat with an elegant swish of her skirt. She wandered over to where Komaeda stood near the drink fridges, her gait rather sophisticated and regal.

"Komaeda, I noticed you're wearing a face mask today, did you catch a cold?" Sonia asked the other, attempting to strike up conversation, probably out of pity.

The boy reached into the fridge, grabbing a can of drink. "Ah, yes. I was only in the rain for a short while, but this awful luck of mine found a way to get me sick." He finished his sentence with a soft laugh.

"Oh, that's unfortunate! I really hope you get better soon!" Sonia gave him a sad little smile overflowing with sympathy.

Komaeda paused for a second, blinking a few times before tilting his head to the side and looking towards her. "Sonia-san, I'm incredibly grateful, but you shouldn't waste your hope on scum like me."

What the fuck? Who talks like that?

The Main Course boy made his way towards Hinata, placing a can of Blue Ram on the counter. With Hinata's somewhat icy glare, he found himself hoping that his customer service smile was enough to mask the hate emanating from his soul.

Now that he was close, Hinata got a much better look at Komaeda's features. He had messy white hair and sharp grey eyes, standing stark against pale skin.

Wait.

It seemed Komaeda realised it too. He had a frightened look in his eyes, as if he were a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"You…"

Gritting his teeth harshly, Hinata closed his hands into fists before swinging one of his arms forward, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy.

"You took my fucking money!!"

Panic set in on Komaeda's face, and hearing Hinata yell was enough to force his primal instincts to kick in. He broke into a full sprint out of the store, knocking down a shelf in the process. This shelf just so happened to come down on Souda, who screamed out in pain as the metal pinned him beneath.

Hinata slid across the counter and took chase, abandoning the store and the mess in his haste. Never in his life had he been this angry about 500 yen. Well, it wasn't really about the money, it was about the fact he'd rubbed one out to a man dressed as a woman, that he had been fantasising about a man dressed as a woman. His pride as a teenage boy had been destroyed in one swift moment.

Fancy dress shoes clacked against the pavement as Komaeda ran down the street, desperate to get away from the angry store clerk mere metres behind him. His stamina was incredibly poor. Hinata's wasn't great, but at least he was forced to participate in PE and maintain his health.

Hinata noticed Komaeda was beginning to slow down and the gap between them shortened. Outstretching an arm, he reached for the back of the boy's jacket, fingers barely brushing the material the first go. With a rush of determination he reached out again, this time getting a solid grip, yanking the boy to him.

He clearly hadn't considered what pulling 65 kilograms towards yourself whilst you're still moving would do, because the next thing Hinata knew he was colliding with the Main Course student and falling forward into the pavement. He hissed as gravel dug into his skin, scraping up his hands and elbows as he landed on top of the other student.  

Hinata grabbed the other boy by his hips, flipping them over and straddling his body to prevent any chance of escape. He glared into Komaeda's narrowed eyes, both boys panting heavily in an attempt to catch their breaths.

"You... hah… owe me…" Hinata barely got the words out.

"I… ah…. haha…. I don't…. know you…" As Komaeda wheezed, he tilted his head back to rest against the pavement.

In an attempt to calm his racing heart, Hinata took a big breath of air before exhaling shakily.

"You… you played that sick prank on me… and then you took my money… and now you have the audacity to say you don't know me?!"

"You… you're the one who gave it to me…" Komaeda shot back, a smirk growing on his face.

It seemed Komaeda's mask had been ripped off in the fall, now loosely hanging from one of his ears. His nose was beginning to bleed, crimson liquid dribbling over his dry lips and teeth. His forehead had been grazed as well, Komaeda really had taken quite the tumble.

Suddenly he pushed Hinata hard in the chest, forcing him off his body. An aggressive cough racked Komaeda's lungs, forcing him to sit up as he choked.

"H-hey… are you okay?" Hinata sat back on his knees, feeling a pang of guilt upon seeing the state of Komaeda's physical condition. Had he really just chased down a sick kid?

Komaeda laughed, an incredulous expression painted on his face as he pulled the remaining loop of the mask off his ear. "Don't get all soft on me now, Hinata-kun. I don't need lowly Reserve Course students worrying about my health."

With his patience instantly running out, Hinata was left fuming. Why on earth did he even ask if that guy was okay?! He was clearly just another stuck up rich prick from the Main Course.

Rising to his feet, Hinata wiped some of the dirt off his hands, wincing at the open wounds that had been left from sharp gravel tearing through his skin.

"If I get fired it's your fault!" He spat back, unable to think of anything else to say to save his dignity at this point.

Clenching his hands into fists, Hinata turned away from Komaeda, who was still sprawled out on the pavement. He began his walk back to the convenience store, a little anxious about his employment situation.

Why would a guy even dress up as a chick? Was he getting off on it? Hinata wondered as he walked.

Was Komaeda gay?

Wait, why did the sexuality of a Main Course student even matter to him?

Was… he gay?

Even after finding out that beautiful woman was a man, he still felt so incredibly attracted to him. That flushed out face and those reddened lips had him having physical reactions that he really shouldn't be having.

Hinata buried his face in his grazed palms. This was way too much to process in one day. He paused and took a deep breath, regaining his composure before stepping back into the store.

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After Hinata returned he lied to his coworker, saying Komaeda had been stealing, which was why he left the store so suddenly. Surprisingly enough, Komaeda's Main Course buddies backed up that refute, claiming, "Trouble just follows that guy everywhere." Hinata almost felt bad for him for a second, until he realised it was himself who had to clean up the knocked over shelf.

He didn't see Komaeda again after that.

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Exams were finally over and Hinata now had a chance to relax. He took the late evening Saturday shift to make up for all the shifts he didn't work after the incident, partially due to exams, partially due to fear of running into that Main Course student again. So even if Komaeda had been by, he wouldn't have known about it.

It made the week incredibly boring and frustrating. For some twisted reason, he wanted to see that boy again. He wanted to cuss him out and punch him, show him how useless that Super High School Level title really was against his fists and prove his own worth.

Though, of course, he would be kicked out of Hope's Peak faster than he could agree to the Hope Cultivation Project.

Leaning his elbows onto the counter, Hinata let out a loud sigh at the realisation that Komaeda wasn't the only thing he had to worry about. If he agreed to the project, he could probably quit working. But that would most likely mean he'd never have the chance to see that boy again. Though, it's not like he'd have the balls to approach him on campus anyways.

But if he was talented, he wouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing, right?

Hinata shook the thought from his head, this really wasn't what he wanted to preoccupy his mind with right now.

Perhaps now would be a good time to check if anything needed restocking. Not a lot of people tend to come by after 10pm, which made working these shifts so easy. Though, you were more likely to encounter drunks and unfavourable people. Not to mention the beating Hinata's sleep schedule took if he ever took one on a weeknight.

He yawned and straightened himself up, beginning to peruse the shelves. Usually he left this kind of thing to whoever worked the Sunday morning shift, but he was feeling particularly bored tonight. Somebody must have restocked during the day though, as there were still plenty of snacks stacked on the shelves.

Ugh, the one time he actually wants to work for his money…

Hinata needed something to keep himself from dozing off out of sheer boredom, so he grabbed a can of coffee from the fridge before returning to the counter. He put his palms down and hoisted himself up, sitting up on the surface with his legs hanging down.

Hinata picked his drink back up, cracking it open with a hiss as the air escaped. He took a few large gulps before placing it back down.

He said he wasn't going to think about the Project when he was feeling so tired and distracted, trying to relax, but he really did need to make a decision. He was already in his second year and still unsure of what to do. They were probably going to dump him if he didn't decide soon, and having that choice taken away from him worried him more than agreeing to it.

But he was particularly worried about the consequences of agreeing. There was such a high chance that the surgery could go wrong, be botched. Well, they actually said the risk was rather small, that the Super High School Level Neurologist would be the one leading the surgery. And sure, he trusts in his talent, but letting somebody into your head is just… terrifying.

The door slid open with an electronic ding, startling Hinata. He threw himself off the counter quickly and yelled out his scripted greeting. "G-good evening!! C-can I be of any service?!"

Hinata spun around, turning his eyes to the door and picking up the lingering can that sat on the counter, in full view for any customer to see how he had been slacking off. He saw the familiar brown pleated skirt of the female Main Course's uniform, so naturally he was expecting a girl, yet when he let his eyes wander up he found himself staring at a painfully unforgettable mass of white hair.

"Ko-"

"Ah, you're working tonight. I was expecting the other one." Komaeda muttered, stepping into the store with a rather exaggerated sway of his hips.

Hinata blinked hard, attempting to keep calm enough to recall his coworker's name. "Uh… the guy with black hair?"

Komaeda paused and blinked in return. "What? You don't even know his name? You truly are useless Reserve Course garbage, huh?"

"Hey! I'm not garbage! If anyone here is garbage it's you!" Hinata yelled, slamming his hands onto the counter. "Coming here so late at night in a girl's uniform, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

A sick grin crept up on Komaeda's as he began to move close to Hinata, allowing the other to get a better look at his getup.

He was wearing tall white socks with black flats. His skirt was much too short, showing off an inappropriate amount of thigh with every movement. Beneath the matching brown blazer was a beige cardigan and a white dress shirt, tied up cutesy with a red ribbon tie. This time he wore no makeup and had done nothing with his hair, just the girly clothes.

"It's true, I am pure scum. This hobby of mine may be disgusting, perverted, messed up, whatever word you want to use to describe it." Komaeda paused for a second before leaning closer. "But nothing I do will ever be as shameful as your pathetic attempts to be something you could never be."

Something in Hinata snapped at those words. He found himself grabbing Komaeda's collar, gripping the fabric tightly in his fist before pulling him across the counter. Hinata raised his fist, gritting his teeth as he went to take a swing at the other boy. However, a coherent thought reached his mind in the last second, and he stopped himself before it could make contact with Komaeda's face.

Komaeda's face twisted into a big grin. "Do it. See what happens. I dare you." His eyes swirled with a strange emotion. Excitement? Fear? He couldn’t say for certain.

Hinata's teeth worried at his lip as he considered it briefly. He could hit him, he was right there. Hitting him would bring him the justice and the relief he had been craving all week, spite that had wound tightly up in his gut whilst sitting all those horrendous exams.

He bit down on his lip hard, before letting go of the other boy with a sigh. "You're not worth it."

Leaning his elbows onto the counter, Komaeda propped his chin up with his hands and gave Hinata a wide smile. He kicked his legs up off the floor, allowing it to bear his full weight. "Say, Reserve Course, why are you so angry anyway?"

"I have a name." Hinata snapped at him. "And why wouldn't I be mad? You deceived me and have the gall to keep insulting me like that."

"Calling you Reserve Course isn't an insult, it's a fact. If you're the one getting upset, then you must truly realise how much of an embarassment you are huh?" Voice practically dropping with mockery, Komaeda tilted his head slighty to the side.  

"Shut up. I can tell you're just trying to rile me up." Hinata spat, looking away from the boy in front of him. "Get off the counter before somebody else sees you."

"No thanks! Is that really what you're mad about? A random stranger whom you have nothing to do with just so happens to be crossdressing? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're either a homophobic prick, or you're mad at yourself for being into it." Komaeda stared right into Hinata, refusing to avert his eyes in an attempt to draw his attention back.

And he was successful, as Hinata was now staring with his mouth agape and cheeks red. "I- I'm not into it!"

"I see! So you're homophobic then?"

"No!!"

"Are you sure?"

"Very!"

"Hmph, suit yourself." Komaeda laughed softly before shimmying himself back off the counter. He picked up Hinata's can of drink, making eye contact with the boy as he took a sip.

"H-hey! That's my drink!" Hinata stuttered out, still somewhat shaken by the accusation.

Komaeda recoiled and groaned. "So bitter… how can you drink this stuff?"

The other boy shrugged. "It's coffee, it's always bitter. Why did you even drink it if you don't like it?"

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Komaeda placed the drink back onto the counter. "Are all of you Reserve Course students this inane?"

"What? What are you even talking about?" Hinata blinked hard, trying to recall if he had missed something.

Komaeda made a frustrated noise before walking around to behind the counter with yet another expression that Hinata couldn’t quite place. He blurted out a "Hey, you can't be back he-" before having his words cut off by the other boy grabbing his shirt with two hands and planting his lips on his.

Hinata gasped, which gave Komaeda the chance to deepen the kiss and lick at the inside of his mouth. His brain was now running at a million miles an hour, trying desperately to comprehend what the fuck was going on.

The guy who's been making him question his sexuality rocks up to the place he works, dressed in a girl's uniform, and then proceeds to rile him up, insult him, before shoving his tongue into his mouth?

Hinata pushed the other boy away from him, his face rapidly heating up and his pants feeling a bit tighter than before. "Look, Komaeda, I really don't appreciate you making fun of me like this!"

There was an utterly dumbfounded look on Komaeda's face that simply furthered Hinata's confusion. "You still don't get it? I'm trying to seduce you."

"Hah?"

"I want you to fuck me, Hinata-kun."

Hinata's mind completely blanked. That was ridiculous. Komaeda was a rude Main course bastard who seemingly just swung by Hinata’s workplace to make a mockery of him, the dots didn't connect whatsoever. Complications aside, he couldn't deny those words sent his teenage boy heart racing. "B-But you hate me?"

"And?"

"And?!"

"You're hot." Komaeda took a shaky breath, suddenly getting a little more nervous, "Just… say whether or not you want to have sex with me."

"I-I do!!” After blurting out the confession, Hinata averted his gaze to the floor. His face felt like it was on fire at this point. “It's just… uh… I've never done anything… uh… with anyone before."

A loud, wheezy cackle left Komaeda, one that caused him to shake and grab at his shirt as he howled. Hinata watched in confusion and Komaeda fought for his breath, still giggling away until the humour finally began to wear off. He stopped and suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh good, I thought I was going to have to break it to you that you’re gay."

"Shut up." Hinata hissed. "You pretty much already did, anyway."

For a second there, Komaeda almost looked shocked, but his expression quickly morphed into a grin. "Was I the one who awakened you? That's incredibly high praise, Hinata-kun."

He draped his arms around Hinata's shoulders, still wearing a cocky smile as he leaned in close once again. This time Hinata took the initiative, twirling Komaeda around and forcing him into the wall behind them before desperately kissing him.

Komaeda flinched, not expecting the rough treatment, but definitely welcoming it. He bit at Hinata's lips as the boy's hands slid down his sides, feeling him up. A moan slipped from Komaeda as a hand ran up his shirt, fingertips grazing along his skin and up to his chest.

Upon feeling lacy fabric, Hinata pulled away from the kiss for a moment. "Are you… wearing lingerie?"

Komaeda giggled softly. "Of course I am, there's no point in dressing like a girl if you aren't going to go the whole mile."

Hinata shook his head, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of the situation. "We're really doing this huh? I don't even have any condoms or lube…"

Komaeda glanced behind Hinata, eyeing the shelf of 18+ items. Hinata followed his eyes, breathing an "Ah." in response. "But what about the store?"

"I can guarantee right now that nobody will come in. I'm not good for much, but this kind of thing I am." Komaeda cracked a near elated smile, happy to finally have his talent be useful.

Despite still seeming somewhat confused, Hinata nodded in agreeance. "Okay… but what about the cameras? Surely they wi-"

That smile on Komaeda's face fell. "If you make another excuse I'm leaving."

"Okay okay!" Hinata put his hands up, stepping back from Komaeda with a huff. He wandered to the front of the store to flip over the 'Back in 5 minutes' sign and lock the doors. He felt it was completely unnecessary, but Komaeda let Hinata waste his time with it anyway.

He decided to take advantage of the moment and grab a pack of condoms and a small tube of lubricant. Any footage on the cameras of him taking the items would go mysteriously missing, after all, the sheer amount of bad luck he had been experiencing for the past week practically guaranteed the night's success.

He opened up the condom pack, ‘Ribbed for her pleasure.’ He couldn't suppress the urge to giggle, pulling one out before slipping it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

When Komaeda looked up again, Hinata was watching him with a nervous stare. His forehead shimmered a little with sweat from the head, and the tight sleeves of Hinata's shirt squeezed around his biceps. He was well built, shirt fitting a little too snugly around his pecs.

He could only hope this Reserve Course boy was as good as he looked.

"Where would you like to do it then, Hinata-kun?"

Hinata shuddered, a rush of arousal burning through him at the sound of Komaeda's sultry voice. It was embarrassing just how much it turned him on.

"T-The back room…" He stammered out, once again forcing himself to look away from Komaeda.

"Well then," Komaeda grabbed ahold of Hinata's twist, causing him to gasp, "The back room it is."

The irony of being led around his own workplace escaped Hinata, who was currently too dizzy with arousal and heat to even walk straight.

Komaeda pushed the door open, pulling Hinata into the break room where it was much cooler, seeing as the air conditioner didn't have to fight with the heat exhaust from the fridges. The two of them paused for a moment, revelling in the cool air as Komaeda swiped at his brow and Hinata aired his shirt.

"S-So, uh…"

Before Hinata could stammer out whatever stupid question that would kill Komaeda's mood, he turned to face him with a smile and put his hands on the boy's hips. Hinata complied as he was slowly walked backwards, admiring the passionate look burning in Komaeda's intense grey eyes. The same ones he admired so deeply upon their first encounter, yet avoided out of nervousness.

This time Hinata was still shaking with nerves, making a startled noise when the back of his knees hit something hard. Komaeda chuckled at his apprehension, voice calm and soothing as he guided him down to sit on the object he presumed to be a chair.

Hinata's thighs shook as Komaeda leaned his hands onto them, using them to balance himself as he straddled his waist in a way that pushed their groins much too close. A soft sigh escaped Komaeda's lips as he settled into Hinata's lap, a smile turning up at the corners of his mouth.

"A-Are you sure this is safe? These chairs are kinda, uh, shitty." He averted his gaze, mouth going dry as he babbled out the words. "I-I-I mean, t-they aren't really meant to support, uh, lots of weight…"

That smile simply got wider, flashing Komaeda's pearly white teeth beneath it. "Mm, we'll see."

Before Hinata could blurt out another objection, Komaeda's lips slotted against his in an aggressive kiss. He barely realised what was happening before Komaeda was already giving swipes of tongue against his lips.

Apparently that was all it took for Hinata's brain to give up on caring about Workplace Safety. His head felt light and dizzy as he reciprocated the movement, moaning softly against the other's lips when their tongues made contact and indulged in a sweet moment of friction.

Komaeda sucked passionately at his tongue in a way that created all sorts of lewd and slick noises that went straight to Hinata's dick. He must have felt it too, because next thing Hinata knew Komaeda was rolling his hips forwards, grinding into the other's crotch in a way that made both of them moan from the soft friction and pressure.

When they finally broke off the kiss, Komaeda was left panting with a little smirk on his face. His cheeks flushed a soft red as his eyes slid down over Hinata's reddened lips, wandering until they fell onto his chest. Pale hands wandered to the collar of Hinata's work shirt, fingers taking hold of the fabric and beginning to undo the two buttons.

With a little bit of Hinata's chest exposed, Komaeda could finally start to see what it was he had been working so hard for. He pressed his hands against Hinata's pecs, smoothing them down across his torso until he reached the hem of the fabric. For the first time tonight, Hinata was completely focused, already raising his arms to make it easier for Komaeda to pull his shirt up and over his head.

The shirt was quickly tossed aside, left abandoned on the floor as the fabric was replaced by hands stroking over Hinata's chest.

A pleased hum could be heard as Komaeda gave his pecs a gentle squeeze. "That shirt isn't very flattering for your body, it makes you look skinny."

“Uh, thank you?”

Hinata wasn’t really sure what to do with his hands as he raised them up to rest on Komaeda’s shoulders, an action that brought out another gentle laugh from him. Removing his hands from Hinata’s chest, Komaeda placed them on top of his own, guiding them downwards past his collarbone and over his chest. Not once did Hinata’s eyes stray from his hands.

Komaeda continued to guide them down, over the subtle curve of his hips until they settled into the pale flesh of his thighs. A light pressure was applied as Hinata buried his fingers into the soft skin, squeezing slightly. This elicited a pleased sigh from Komaeda, who shifted forwards to guide Hinata’s hands to his ass.

A groan barely escaped past Hinata’s gritted teeth as his pants rubbed against his erection. He gripped the flesh tighter, spreading Komaeda’s ass cheeks as he ground his hips upwards. The sensation was overwhelmingly good, sending shocks of pleasure down Hinata’s spine and making his head spin with need .

Those slender fingers returned to Hinata’s chest, brushing over his nipple before taking it between two fingers and squeezing gently. This pulled another moan from Hinata’s throat, and he thrust his hips up again.

“You’re awfully sensitive.” A tighter pinch had Hinata letting out a high squeak, which made him flush bright red in embarrassment. “I know I’m the one wearing a skirt, but if anything you’re more like a girl than I am.”

Hinata resented the way Komaeda’s teasing seemed to go straight to his dick. He pushed his hips forward again, repeating the motion in order to get more friction on his unbearably hard cock. Another rush of pleasure shot through his veins, making Hinata shudder and moan.

In order to silence the awful comments that were shortening his patience in more ways than one, Hinata leaned upwards and pulled at Komaeda’s bottom lip with his teeth. This seemed to get the point across, as Komaeda stopped teasing at his nipples and kissed Hinata deeply, open mouthed and messy.

No teases of tongue, the kiss instantly descended into something filthy and desperate. Teeth clacked against each other painfully as both boys tried to taste as much of one another as they could, the bitter taste of coffee still lingering on Hinata’s tongue.

Hinata’s eyes fluttered closed as he drank in the sensation of Komaeda licking into his mouth and grinding against his crotch. With each breathy moan from the boy above him, he could feel a heat tightening more and more in his lower gut. He moaned against Komaeda’s tongue, gripping his ass tighter and he began to shake slightly with the need for release.

“Wait wait wait.” The boy above him suddenly pulled away, leaving a long string of saliva that broke in the air. He stilled the movements of his hips and spread his palm against Hinata’s chest, “You’re way too worked up. I know you’re a Reserve Course and everything, but surely you’re not going to cum in your pants before we’ve even started?”

There was an annoyed look on Komaeda’s face, one beyond the cocky teasing, like he was genuinely upset by the reaction he had drawn from Hinata.

Hinata’s brow furrowed. “What does being from the Reserve course have to do with anything?”

With a soft little “Hmph,” Komaeda shifted forward and lifted some of his weight off Hinata’s lap. He reached into the pocket of his blazer, pulling the bottle of lube he’d acquired earlier out before shedding the garment and dropping it onto the floor where Hinata’s shirt had landed previously.

Holding the lube in one hand, he began to undo the buttons on his cardigan. Hinata watched closely, focusing on Komaeda’s careful fingers instead of his painful erection in hopes of getting his heart to calm down. Once he’d undone the buttons, Komaeda removed his cardigan, leaving him in a well ironed long-sleeved dress shirt that was rather loose in the chest area.

“U-Um… I’m a little uh…” Hinata’s eyes followed the movements of Komaeda’s hands as the boy uncapped the bottle and drizzled some of the clear liquid onto his fingers.

A rather sadistic laugh echoed off the walls of the room as Komaeda cackled loudly. “You’re so precious Hinata-kun! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Unless you would like to help?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Blinking away the confusion, Hinata stared up at Komaeda expectantly, “Just tell me what to do.”

The lid snapped shut and the bottle was placed onto the table next to them. Komaeda brought his fingers behind his back with a flirty smirk. “Well then, could you please move my panties out of the way?”

With a nod, Hinata slowly brought his fingers forward, hooking one around the lacy thong before tugging it out of the crevice of Komaeda’s ass. He tried to ignore the burning in his face as he tugged the cheeks apart a little, giving Komaeda better access as he brought his fingers to his hole.

There was a pause of silence, before Komaeda let out a rather gentle sigh, relaxing his whole body. He then pushed two fingers into himself with relative ease, having already been there numerous times this week. Entranced, Hinata watched Komaeda’s expression soften as he adjusted to the feeling of having something inside him.

It didn’t take long for him to begin moving his fingers, slowly thrusting them inside himself and drawing them back out again. He scissored the digits apart, stretching the tight muscle and ignoring the slight burn.

Unsure of what to do, Hinata settled for observing every little reaction on Komaeda’s face. The gentle bites of his bottom lip, the soft gasps that came whenever he pushed further than he expected to, the dusting of blush on his cheeks. He couldn’t get enough, it was simply so erotic to watch and only made him more excited for the final act.

Noticing Hinata’s interest, Komaeda placed his free hand over Hinata’s right, pulling him closer. He pulled his fingers out of his hole before rubbing some of the lube off onto Hinata’s index and middle finger. The guideless letters floating in Hinata’s mind finally spelled out an answer, he wants me to finger him .

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Hinata nodded and rubbed his fingers against Komaeda’s entrance. He tried his best to go slow so as to not hurt him, but his fingers easily squeezed in, much to Komaeda’s delight.

All Hinata could process was how warm it was inside another person. He moved his fingers experimentally, rubbing at the soft walls with a childish feeling of intrigue.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” As soon as Komaeda said that, he clamped down against Hinata’s fingers, drawing a gasp from him. “Think about how good it will feel to be inside an Ultimate. Wouldn't you like that, Hinata-kun?"

Hinata did allow the thought to pass through his mind, being buried balls deep within that soft warmth, the friction as Komaeda squeezed down around him. To answer Komaeda’s question, Hinata pushed his fingers deeper, eliciting a gasp from the other.

“You know… you never did tell me your Ultimate talent?” Lowering his voice, Hinata tried to sound like he had a better grip on the situation than he actually did.

Komaeda fluttered his eyelashes innocently, Hinata couldn’t tell if it was intended or not. “Ah, I never did, did I? It’s a rather boring and worthless talent, but a talent nonetheless.”

Ignoring the seething little rage that burned in his chest at hearing Komaeda say a talent was ‘worthless’, Hinata withdrew his fingers. “So, what is it then?”

There was a soft hum of appreciation from Komaeda, and he slid off the other’s lap. “I won the lottery for my year, I am the 77th’s Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“Seriously?!” Hinata had to keep himself from gasping in excitement, his obsession with talent coming close to overriding all horny thoughts from the moment prior. That’s so--!”

“Lucky?” As he planted his feet on the floor and stood up, Komaeda couldn’t help but insert the snarky comment.

Pursing his lips, Hinata watched as Komaeda leant down and brought his hands to Hinata’s belt. “Cool... I was going to say cool.”

Another soft hum left the other boy as he unclasped Hinata’s belt. That was enough to bring Hinata’s thoughts away from Komaeda’s talent and back to how hard he was. Komaeda undid the button and fly of Hinata's work pants, the other helped by lifting his hips and shucking them down slightly, exposing part of his ass to the uncomfortably cool metal of the chair.

Reaching into Hinata’s boxers, Komaeda wrapped his fingers around the length before pulling it out from beneath Hinata’s sakura printed boxers. Both the relief of being freed from the tight fabric and the sensation of being touched by a hand that wasn't his own were overwhelming, and Hinata practically stopped breathing right then and there.

“Wow, you’re bigger than I expected a Reserve to be.” Giggling at Hinata’s reaction, Komaeda gave his cock a gentle stroke downwards in order to expose the flushed head.

Hinata blinked hard, processing just how stupid that comment was. “I still don’t understand why you think talent and dick size have any correlation.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Komaeda began to slowly jerk Hinata, spreading precum across the shaft whilst bringing his other hand to his breast pocket. There was a loud moan of relief from Hinata, and he allowed his eyes to fall on Komaeda’s hand, his brain dismissing his incredulity.

Withdrawing a shiny packet from his breast pocket, Komaeda brought it to his mouth before tearing it open with his teeth. Using one hand, he pulled a translucent green condom from the packet, allowing the litter to fall to the floor.

He removed his hand from Hinata’s dick, drawing a whine of impatience from the boy that amused him greatly. He brought the condom to the head, pinching the tip as he began to slowly unroll the latex down to fit snugly around his cock. When he looked up again, Hintata was biting his lip and watching with bated breath.

“Adjust it if it’s uncomfortable, otherwise it’ll probably end up tearing.” Straightening himself back up, Komaeda placed his hands on his hips with a soft sigh.

With a gentle nod, Hinata brought his hand down to adjust the condom. It was an incredibly foreign sensation, but necessary, at least this time.

Komaeda slid his hands down his hips, then under his skirt and back up again, giving Hinata a glimpse of the lacy pink panties hidden beneath. He hooked his thumbs around the waistband, and pulled them down to the floor before stepping out of them.

Flashing a flirty smirk, Komaeda wrapped his hand around Hinata’s erection, drawing a surprised yelp from him. He swung a leg over Hinata’s waist, beginning to mount him once again. Angling Hinata’s cock, he attempted to bring it to his prepared entrance. He seemed to be struggling to find it, and bending his arm back was beginning to hurt. Seeing his difficulty, Hinata placed his hand over Komaeda’s and helped him line it up with his hole. With a satisfied exhale, Komaeda placed his hands on Hinata’s shoulders and began to slowly sink down.

Nothing could have prepared Hinata for the sheer heat that engulfed his cock. It felt so much better than his hand ever could, even more so than having his fingers inside Komaeda did. It seemed that Komaeda was enjoying it too, because his eyes were squeezed tightly shut and mouth open wide in surprise.

“Oh shit .” Hinata gasped as Komaeda lowered himself completely, taking the entirety of his length with one movement. He gripped at those skinny hips, desperately seeking something to put him in a little control and his brain succumbed to ecstasy.

"Haha!" Giggling to himself, Komaeda slowly drew his hips back up. "You really are a virgin, aren't you Hinata-kun?"

It felt as though Hinata's face were on fire, "I-I already told you that!"

Bony hands fingers dug into Hinata’s shoulders as Komaeda dropped back down again, forcing Hinata to bite his lip so as to not let out another embarrassing sound. Slow drags up and down, plunging Hinata back into that tight heaven of friction and ecstasy. He allowed his head to tilt back, letting out a gentle sigh as Komaeda set a slow yet pleasurable pace. The kind of pace that set the mood, eased him into it, left both of them craving more. When his eyelids inevitably flickered shut, Hinata felt as though he were floating. The humidity was getting to him, along with those sickly wet sounds and heavy breathing warm on his skin. The warm weight of Komaeda’s body pressing against his made it all too easy to take whatever he was offering, to forget all of that assholeish shit he said and did in the past week.

The need winding around his gut was pulling tighter and tighter, his hips beginning to move up to meet Komaeda’s. He wanted more, if he was going to cum he needed more than just this. Hinata’s eyes flittered open, and he glanced down to his hands. Komaeda’s pleated brown skirt rested just beneath his fingertips, material all bunched up at the sides with a little bulge tenting it at the front. He couldn’t resist the urge to slide his right hands down Komaeda’s pelvis, carefully dragging his fingers over the bulge until he reached the tip.

“A-Ah!”

Startling, Komaeda almost jumped right off Hinata’s lap. His breathing was heavy and wheezy, lungs quietly rattling as he tried to catch his breath. The pale skin of Komaeda's face had flushed to a bright pink, he looked like he was going to throw up.

"Hey, wait…" Hinata murmured, tipping his head back up. "You don't look too hot."

There was a soft chuckle, followed by Komaeda clasping a hand over his mouth as he broke into a coughing fit. He dug his left hand tightly into Hinata's shoulder, stabilising himself as his body shook.

"Have you finally come to your senses, Hinata-kun? Though, can you really be that picky?" He croaked out, giggling between coughs. "You are a Reserve Course student, after all."

Sitting up, Hinata grabbed hold of Komaeda's waist again. "Hey! No no I'm not talking about that. You were sick the other day, weren't you?"

"Ah, I've had a cold that has been rather difficult to shake." Sheepishly, Komaeda averted his gaze to the floor. "Are you worried about catching it? I'm sure it's not something viral."

"I'm not worried about that, I'm worried about you going into respiratory failure!"

Komaeda laughed dryly, an almost bitter sound. "It is always a possibility! Trust in my luck to kill me the second I get a good thing."

Confused, Hinata blinked a few times. "Do you want to stop?"

"Do I want to stop…?"

Komaeda paused, repositioning himself in Hinata's lap as he considered his next move. He didn't want to stop; he was so glad to be finally here, to be doing this. Something so dangerous and taboo, and with a student who was not only beneath him, but a complete stranger.

The exact kind of scenario in which his luck could be completely unpredictable. The nervous feeling bubbling in his chest caused a creepy smile to twitch at the corners of his mouth.

"Not at all!" He chirped.

The cheery tone only furthered the furrow in Hinata's brow. "Seriously, you look like you're about to pass out, let me-"

"Don't get all soft on me now, Hinata-kun. I don't need lowly Reserve Course students worrying about my health."

Hinata blinked hard, recalling what Komaeda had said to him the day he'd discovered his dirty secret. The scowl on Komaeda's face as he glared up at him, the blood dripping down his lips, only to spatter against the concrete.

Komaeda didn't need sympathy. Komaeda didn't want sympathy.

His hands slid under the other's boy's thighs, gripping tightly and pulling him closer. Before Komaeda could understand what was happening, Hinata rose to his feet, picking up Komaeda with him and causing the other to gasp in surprise. He wrapped his legs tightly around Hinata's torso, fearing that he may be dropped.

Hinata pushed him down into the table, forcing him forward until his back was flush against the cold plastic. A can of drink was knocked over in their wake, and Komaeda did not neglect to notice the open manga and discarded plastic wrappers by his head.

Messy…

"Oh? Getting rough with a Main Course student are we?" Komaeda giggled, setting himself off into another series of coughs and barks.

"You were taking too long, it's my turn now."

Hinata slammed his hands down beside Komaeda's head and thrust his hips forward, pressing himself deep into the other boy. Blunt nails scraped against the plastic as Komaeda wheezed, his legs strangling around Hinata's waist.

"You really love this power dynamic thing, don't you? Did you seek me out specifically because you wanted to be fucked by somebody inferior to you?" Digging his nails into Komaeda's skin, Hinata moved with reckless abandon. "You're disgusting, Main Course students really are all the same."

It made Hinata seethe with an unbearable anger. He had never felt this pissed in his life, wound up so tightly that all he wanted to do was hit Komaeda until that stupid smile fell right off his face. But he couldn't deny just how good it felt, being put in his place by a girl dressed in her school uniform, the irrefutable proof that she was better than him.

But Komaeda was not a girl. No matter how feminine he looked, his hips were narrow and chest flat. His skirt had ridden up, exposing his cock that was bouncing against his stomach as Hinata fucked him, having slipped out of his lingerie quite some time ago. His little raspy moans and gasps sounded pretty girlish, though, and that was enough for Hinata.

“A-Ah you’re… hah! Come on you can do a little better than— f-fuck!”

Unable to resist the urge, Komaeda kept taunting him. Hinata was endlessly unamused by this, resorting to tilting his hips in order to get closer to Komaeda's prostate.

At least, that's what he was hoping. It was up, right?

A lucky guess, he supposed, and Komaeda was broken into whimpers. He scrabbled for the edges of the table, gripping tightly as it creaked beneath him.

It was overwhelming, the pleasure and excitement becoming too much for Komaeda. It felt like he was going insane, being rocked into so hard it was almost painful. The little giggles he made amongst the moans and whimpers were involuntary, but with every passing second he felt higher and higher. Closer and closer to reaching something amazing.

Is this what hope feels like?

It was a stupid thing to wonder.

Hinata himself felt as though he were melting, brain fuzzy with anger and arousal. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he panted, exhaustion beginning to catch up on him even though he was oh so close.

He leaned in close, burning his face in Komaeda's neck as he panted. The movements of his hips were beginning to stutter and slow, he was failing.

"Please…" Komaeda whined, wrapping his arms tightly around Hinata's neck. "Please please come on even a useless Reserve like you should be able to finish me off!"

"Sh-shut up."

The growl came out harsher than Hinata had expected. To apologise, he grabbed ahold of Komaeda's face with his left hand, kissing him firmly on the lips as he attempted to move faster. Komaeda eagerly licked into his mouth in gratitude.

Hinata was unable to hold down all of his sweet moans and pants when Komaeda was tonguing his gums like some kind of puppy. He groaned into the other boy's mouth.

How is he enjoying this so much? Surely it can't feel that good down there…

He creeped his other hand down to Komaeda's skirt, sliding his hand beneath it and carefully wrapping his fingers around his cock. His dick was practically drooling with precum, wet enough that he probably could have been mistaken for a girl. Komaeda's eyes widened in trepidation, and he pulled away from the kiss as Hinata stroked his hand down the shaft.

The word didn't even make it past Komaeda's lips, all he could do was mouth "Faster."

Thus Hinata obliged, allowing his hand to glide faster with the slickness of Komaeda’s skin. It felt incredibly awkward, moving his hips desperately whilst jerking his lover at a much faster pace than he could synchronise with, not to mention just how sloppy and pathetic their kisses were becoming with each passing second. At this point they were just pressing their lips against one other’s and licking.

At least Komaeda wasn’t hypocritical enough to make fun of him for his technique.

Komaeda’s thighs were tensing, and his hips were lifting from the table. He was whimpering like a dog in heat, barely breathing little pleads and begs. He was clearly so close, and Hinata could feel his own release creeping through his guts too.

He broke off whatever semblance of a kiss they were still doing pressed his left hand against the table, using it as a support as he practically jackhammered Komaeda’s ass.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, panting and moaning, as well as the squeaking of the table beneath their weight. Komaeda suddenly yelled out, digging his nails harshly into Hinata’s back as his hips thrust up to meet his hand.

His voice broke as he came, white stripes of cum painting his dress shirt as Hinata stroked him through his orgasm. Komaeda was shaking beneath his touch, breaths laboured and wheezy.

A rivulet of sweat rolled down Hinata’s forehead. He kept thrusting his hips, unconcerned with overstimulating the boy beneath him. He was just so close, he could feel it rising in his chest. Just a little more, just a little more and--

“Hinata-kun!”

There was a loud crack, followed by the sound of metal scraping against itself, and suddenly they were both falling to the floor.

Hinata grabbed a tight hold of Komaeda, gasping when they both landed on the cold linoleum. It all happened so fast. With so much adrenaline pumping through his veins, Hinata didn't even notice he had squeezed his eyes shut at some point.

Slowly opening them again, the first thing he did was look at Komaeda. The boy’s grey eyes were open wide in shock, face still flushed red and lips swollen from their activities, but he seemed mostly unharmed.

He pulled out of Komaeda, dick still aching with a need left unfulfilled as he crawled off of him. Komaeda also sat himself up, dusting off his shirt dramatically as though he hadn't cum all over it moments before.

“Hey… are you okay?”

Komaeda’s only response was to look at Hinata with those wide eyes, then to stare straight past him. A few seconds later he was giggling, soon breaking into a fit of raucous laughter.

Confused, Hinata turned around to look behind himself, eyeing the folding table in a crumpled heap on the floor.

He couldn't believe it.

They’d broken the table. They’d broken the fucking table, he’d been blue-balled by a fucking table, and Komaeda was sitting there laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Stand My Heroes] 花ざかりのSwallow tail (Swallow Tail in Full Bloom) Event Story: Investigation ② Translations

*Master-list will be created In the future *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei *Scenerio Writer:  @benihara_k  (紅原香)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Investigation 2: Chapter 1

Maki: Sounds like the Kujo Family’s going to be holding a party. An invitation came.

Hiyama: The same invitation has been sent my way too.

Hiyama: There are stunning flowers of all seasons blooming in their garden, so I’d definitely want to see them for myself.

Maki: I got an invitation, so I’m planning on turning up. What about you, Kyosuke?

Kyosuke: Yeah, I have that day off so I think I’ll turn up.

Hiyama: Hatori and Kagura probably got invited too; I’ll check with them later.

Kyosuke: ...Wait, huh?

Maki: What’s the matter?

Kyosuke: This wax seal that’s been imprinted onto the invitation...

Kyosuke: It seems like we’ve got ourselves different designs.

Hiyama: ? Let me see.

Maki: You’re right. Hiyama-kun and Kyosuke both got the rose design. Mine’s the only one with the “K” insignia.

Maki: Come to think of it, it was written in the letter that we had to bring along our individual envelopes on that day itself too.

Hiyama: It’s them we’re talking about; I’m sure they have a plan up their sleeves.

Maki: Which means that whatever it is, it’ll be a secret until the day itself.

Kyosuke: I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Hinata: I think I’ll go with a cream soda. How about you, Kana?

Kaname: I’ll take...an iced-coffee.

Hinata: Alright, it’s decided then. Right, I’ve received your invitation by the way. Thanks.

Hinata: Everyone says that they’ll try to make it on the day to participate.

Kaname: I see. They don’t have to force themselves to come by if they can’t make it though.

Hinata: I’m going though. The secret hidden within the invitation has piqued my interest anyway.

Kaname: Whatever are you talking about?

Hinata: Hehe. It really tests your observation skills.

Ping-

Kaname: ...Oh, sorry. It’s Koya-kun. Could you give me a moment?

Hinata: Sure, no problem.

Kaname: (He wants to introduce all the participating members for the event next Sunday, he says...)

Kaname: (Well, I suppose that guy is pretty much one of us from the Kujo Family.)

Kaname: (Guess I’ll give him an OK.)

☆⋅⋆ …⋅─────────────────────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Investigation 2: Chapter 2

--And then, a couple more days later. I ended up visiting the Rose Garden together with Kirishima-kun and the others.

Kirishima: Whoa- This is amazing! Roses, roses, everywhere!

Kaname: I mean, it IS a Rose Garden for a reason.

Kujo: This is brilliant.

Shindou: This alone proves to be a pretty spectacular view.

Miyase: Each and every one of those roses are stunning. I’m sure they were all raised with lots of love.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

--And then, just last week. Kirishima-san sent us all a certain invitation through a Group LIME.

Rei: (The group name’s “Miyase Party”)

Rei: (There’s no mistaking it; this must be a group for that party.)

Rei: (But why am I getting this?)

In any case, I decided to give my OK in response to the new invitation, and when I scrolled upwards to look at the chat’s log…

“Kirishima: Let’s meet-up at 8AM next Saturday at the Kujo Manor!”

“Kirishima: Everyone inside this group is to come!”

The message was posted inside the group as such, no questions asked.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Kaname: Sorry for making you put up with us this early in the morning despite it being your day-off, big sis.

Kaname: I just couldn’t stand hearing Koya-kun’s non-stop whining about wanting you to participate in this as well.

Rei: Not at all; don’t worry about it. Rather, I’m glad to be invited.

Rei: But why are we in a Rose Garden of all places?

Kaname: It’s one of the things we have to thank Go-san with.

Kaname: On record, Kujo-san said that he wanted to change up the garden’s scenery up a little.

Kaname: He wanted to spruce it up to show everyone how magnificent his garden is, knowing that Go-san would be proud of it when it’s at it’s prime.

Miyase: Wow, these Eventail d'or are beautiful…

Miyase: I’ve heard that it’s extremely hard to breed this particular species of rose.

Staff: It requires a dose of pesticide and fertilizer once every 10 days.

Staff: But it does bloom beautifully, for all the trouble it’s worth.

Miyase: They must have been raised with lots of love and care. Ahh...how wonderful.

Rei: (His eyes are sparkling in delight to be surrounded by such flowers.)

Kujo: …...

Kujo-san’s watchful eyes were all so soft as they looked over Miyase-san.

Surely, this must be one of the gifts they had decided to bestow upon Miyase-san, as a token of gratitude.

Miyase: This one here’s a King Rose, isn’t it. How absolutely lovely…

Kirishima: Let’s buy out everything that catches your eye. Bring out the one with whatever’s the name called earlier too.

Miyase: Ahh, sorry! It’s alright, you don’t have to! It just piqued my interest!

Kaname: Koya-kun, Miyase-san still looks like he’s thinking things through.

Kirishima: Ngh...I see. My bad.

Miyase: Not at all. Thank you for taking note of it though.

Miyase: Then...Could I get these ones here?

The roses he picked were whitish-pink in colour.

Kujo: How pretty. Are these Vine Roses?

Miyase: Yes. They’re called Shrub Roses since they’re half-hanging roses.

Miyase: I think it’ll turn out really picturesque if we hang it on the arch we have in our garden.

Kujo: There’s no problem with it if you say so. We’ll be taking that one then.

Staff: Understood.

The employee carefully packaged the rose seedlings. And Miyase-san beamed as he received them.

Miyase: Thank you so much, Kujo-san. I’ll raise them lovingly!

Kirishima: Yeah. I can’t wait for the day that those Shrub Roses start blooming.

Rei: (An arch decorated with whitish-pink roses...)

Rei: (I’m sure it’ll be a magnificent sight to behold if Miyase-san’s the one raising them with love.)

Kirishima: ...Nuwareria and candy rufuna were…

Kirishima: Jumping, and then..

Kirishima: Ah- Damn it, it’s no good. I don’t know what’s head or tails anymore…

Rei: ……?

Kaname: Koya-kun, we’re leaving.

Kirishima: Hm? Oh, okay.

Rei: (Wonder what’s up with him?)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

--And then, on the morning of the party itself.

Kirishima: Oh, Miyase. Sorry, but could you come along with me to buy some stuff?

Kirishima: I want to go look for milk that goes well with my new protein.

Miyase: Sure. Let’s head on to Akechi-ya then.

Miyase: They sell their original brand of milk down there so I think there’ll be a wide variety for you to choose from.

Kirishima: Seriously? Sounds fun. We’ll be heading out for a bit then!

Kaname: Okay, have a safe trip.

Kujo: Take care.

Kachak

Kaname: ...They’ve both just gone out of the gates.

Kujo: Then, allow the operation to commence.

Riiing, riiiiing

“Yes. This is Felicia Catering Services speaking.”

Kujo: Please proceed with the party preparations just like we’ve discussed.

“Roger.”

Beep

Kujo: ...This should do it. They’ll take care of things from here.

☆⋅⋆ …⋅─────────────────────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Investigation 2: Chapter 3

Miyase: I’m back!

Miyase: ……!

Miyase: What...in the world…?

Kirishima: Oh! This is perfect! As expected of a Pro; they’re really quick with their hands!

Kujo: I see that you’re back, Go.

Kirishima: Kujo-san, what’s with all of these…?

Kujo: We have decided to cordially hold a thank you party for you to thank you for your daily efforts.

Kujo: As such, you, the star of the party, should simply enjoy yourself.

Miyase: No...You didn’t have to go so far...as to do this much for someone like me…

Kirishima: It’s fine! Ya’ don’t have to do anything today. Just tuck into the food and drinks; sing and dance!

Kaname: Everyone just fancies such a lively set-up, so just let them take care of you for today.

Miyase: ...Thank you. I’ll take you guys up for your word then.

Kirishima: ‘Right! They’re gonna be here soon. Kaname, we’re gonna go prepare!

Kaname: Yes, yes.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The party reception had already begun by the time I reached the Kujo Manor.

Rei: (Oh! Kirishima-san and Kaname-kun are over there. Should I turn in my invitation over there instead?)

When I got close enough to the gates to call out to them--

Kirishima: ‘ELCOME!

Rei: ……!

Kaname: Koya-kun, this isn’t an Izakaya. Look, she’s clearly startled.

Kirishima: Oop, you’re right. I couldn’t help but to revert back to my usual habits.

Kirishima: ...Ahem. Welcome; we’ve been awaiting your arrival.

He bowed gracefully; elegantly.

Rei: !

Kirishima: ...How’s that?

Rei: Super cool!

Kirishima: Coolio! It’s thanks to the special training I received under Kaname.

Rei: You’re both really spectacular today. It’s almost as if you’re real butlers!

Kirishima: Well, that’s because the theme we have going today’s a Butler Cafe.

Rei: B-Butler Cafe?

Kaname: It’s a concept where we all become butlers and serve the customers hospitably.

Rei: I see, that’s an interesting concept.

Rei: Oh, right. Can I sign in here?

Kaname: Of course you can. Could I see your invitation?

I pulled out the invitation along with the envelope it was sealed in and watched as he stamped it.

Kaname: X makes the mark. Now you can enjoy all of the food and drinks we have prepared inside.

Kirishima: Do enjoy yourself to the fullest today.

Rei: Thank you. I’ll be heading on in then.

Kirishima & Kaname: Have a nice day.

I passed through the gate as they both saw me off.

☆⋅⋆ …⋅─────────────────────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Investigation 2: Chapter 4

Rei: (Wow. The table decorations are really extravagant.)

Rei: (All the food looks really tantalizing too. It makes me feel hungry just by looking at them…)

Miyase: Hello, Izumi-san. Welcome.

Rei: Miyase-kun! I guess...congratulations...for today?

Miyase: Hehe. You don’t have to be so formal; it’s all alright.

Rei: Here. This is just a small gift to thank you for your everyday efforts.

His expression softened as I handed him the wrapped package.

Miyase: ...This is?

Rei: An apron. I thought of it when I started thinking along the lines of getting you something that’ll be of daily use to you.

Miyase: ……!

Miyase: Thank you so much. I’m really happy. I’ll take good care of it and use it well!

Miyase: Still, all that being said...I never thought that there’d be so many people gathered here just for this.

Rei: I think everyone has gathered here because they’re all thankful towards you.

Miyase: I’ve not done anything at all. I’ve only simply taken care of the garden and made food for everyone...

Miyase: That’s all I’ve done, and yet they’ve thrown me such a spectacular party.

Miyase: It’s so brilliant that I feel it’s a waste on someone like me, who only does things that come naturally.

Rei: ...This is just my personal feelings;

Rei: But I think that you always make delicious food and the mansion’s always beautifully maintained.

Rei: And the tea you serve is also really calming.

Miyase: …...

Rei: So, I think that even if you feel that it’s only natural for you to be doing these things,

Rei: those actions of yours have made people thankful towards you and have also granted them happiness.

Rei: That’s why, today’s the day where they’re all gathered here to convey their feelings. So, I think they’ll be happy if you’ll watch over them.

Miyase: …...

Rei: Sorry, I got too caught up in the moment and said some weird things, didn’t I…?

Miyase: ...Thank you. It makes me feel a little better, somehow.

☆⋅⋆ …⋅─────────────────────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Investigation 2: Chapter 5

Sugano: Oh, it’s Rei! Good work~

Rei: Sugano-kun! Good work today too.

Sugano: Man~ There’s a real crowd in here. I’m really getting into the mood now!

Asagiri: Please remember to keep your alcohol consumption to a reasonable amount.

Sugano: Got’cha~

Aoyama: He’s not a kid so I’m sure he can control himself at least that much.

Asagiri: ……! Aoyama.

Asagiri: This has nothing to do with you; it’s a Investigation Planning Department problem.

Asagiri: Did you take any precautions against your own juniors?

Aoyama: Even if you ask me that, I’m pretty sure they’re all capable of controlling themselves.

Aoyama: The fact that you’re being so mouthy over this whole matter serves as further proof that you don’t have enough faith in your own juniors, don’t you think?

Asagiri: ...Oh?

Sugano: Ahaha, there they go again.

Rei: Hahaha…

Imaoji: Still, I never expected this many people to turn up; amazingly.

Yui: Ahh. What a great party this is with delicious wine to boot.

Yui: Who would’ve thought that I’d see Ch.Le Pin being served here.

Rei: Yui-san, since when did you obtain something like that?

Yui: It’s being put out on the catering table. You can go get some if you’d like to drink.

Rei: (It’s not even time to clink glasses and say cheers yet, but there he is. He really does things at his own pace at always...)

Imaoji: I hope Seki-san and Natsume-kun can make it in time.

Rei: You’re right. And Watabe-san too.

Hiyama: Izumi? You’re already here?

Rei: Hiyama-san! And Maki-kun too! It’s been such a long time...or so I’d like to say, but it hasn’t really been that long.

Maki: We somehow met each other again not too long ago for a bit.

Maki: Oh, right. Miyase-san, this is from Hatori and Aki.

Maki: They’re snacks that go well together with wine. Seems like they got it for you as an apology for being unable to come today.

Miyase: Thank you. I’ll treasure it.

Kyosuke: Thank goodness that I made it in time.

Rei: Kyosuke-kun! Is Makoto-san with you today as well?

Kyosuke: I tried calling him but he didn’t pick up.

Kyosuke: He’s probably still asleep since it looks like he pulled an all-nighter right before his current dateline.

Kyosuke: But he did say that he was coming to this party, so maybe he’ll make it just in time before the party ends.

Kawai: Oh, Rei-saaan!

Rei: Hikaru-kun! You came too?

Kawai: Yeah. We, of Seo Lab, got invitations too. Everyone’s here too~

Rei: Everyone came here?

Kawai: Yup. Ikuto-san’s has already gone off somewhere in that direction though.

Looking in the direction of where Hikaru-kun pointed at, I spotted him having a friendly chat with Hiyama-san.

Rei: (As canny as ever, I see...)

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

[geraltschopshop]

Left To Ruins - P1

Summary: Something was stirring in the Continent, something dark. Everybody could sense it, even the village fool knew something was afoot. After completing a regular job, Geralt came across a woman that he thought was merely a fable - a woman who worked professionally like she was a witcher.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, OC

Genre(s): adventure, romance Warning: a bit of gore, mention of death

Word count: 3939

Introductions

“And the beast’s jaws just snapped shut! Swallowed him whole, it did!” Said a farmer, stood in the middle of a village square. He was telling his fellow villagers of the witcher, who had recently arrived to come to slay the leviathan that had inhabited their lake; it had been troubling them for months by dragging anyone who ventured too close to the lakeside into the black water, never to be seen again. “And then what happened?”

“He died.” The villager said solemnly. At the mention of the witcher’s death, people had already started to go through his bags that were strapped to his horse, sharing out the contents amongst them all. The loud shouts of people staking claim to things they wanted were cut short by the squelching sound of a leviathan head being thrown to the ground. The peasants all turned to the direction of the sound; there stood their witcher, Geralt of Rivia, covered entirely with the blood and entrails of the creature he had come to slay. He scowled as he looked upon the villagers holding his things. “I come to solve your leviathan problem and you scumbags can’t wait to get your hands on my fucking things.” Geralt spat at them angrily. The villagers all dropped his things where they stood and scattered, leaving the one that was telling the story standing alone. The now-abandoned man simply handed the witcher his payment and scarpered for fear of the consequences of letting his brethren loot their saviour’s horse. “And they wonder why no one trades in their village.” The witcher muttered to himself as he picked up his things and returned them to the bags on his horse.

After gathering his things, he decided that bathing in a village where the people had lain claim to his possessions, after a local idiot had told them he was dead, was not a wise idea. He mounted his horse and rode on, leaving the village in search of another one, or just a body of water that was not the final resting place of a leviathan. He rode for, what felt like, hours before reaching a flowering river. Good enough.

He dismounted his horse and peeled off his blood-soaked clothes before he plunged himself into the river, allowing the blood and entrails that layered his skin to be carried away by the current. He breathed a sigh of content. The witcher had craved just a moment of peace where he could forget about the world around him, and this was it, for a moment at least. He heard the sound of horse hooves pattering on the ground growing closer. He looked around to see if he could see who was approaching but could see no one. He looked at his own horse, Roach, to see if she was unsettled – content, grazing on some long grass that was nearby. “Continue your bathing, witcher. I am no threat.” Said a female voice. Emerging from behind Roach was a black horse with a rider, clad in a black cloak; all that was needed was a scythe and the world would be convinced the grim reaper was real. He attempted to cover himself out of politeness. “You needn’t bother yourself.” She added, as she dismounted her horse and pulled down her hood. Her hair was jet black with two distinct white streaks running through it, elegantly styled and decorated with flowers. He recognised the appearance – the Grey Witch. She was known for being the best monster hunter outside of witchers, rumoured to have been raised by one. By her neck hung a silver medallion of a griffin – unique to the School of The Griffin, an old witcher school; maybe there was truth to the rumours. He had always heard stories of her monster killings, but details varied from place to place, so much so that he doubted that she was a real person. She walked by him, making a point of not looking at him and not being down the stream from him before plunging an open cannister into the river. “If I needn’t bother, you needn’t bother making a point of looking away.” He said, resuming rubbing away the blood that had dried down already. “I do it out of politeness. The fact that you are bathing in a river shows that you are not someone that blushes at the idea of being naked around a stranger.” She lifted the cannister out of the water and tightened the cap before tying it to a belt that sat around her waist. Her blouse was a slight off-white and was mostly open; he reluctantly averted his eyes away out of courtesy. She noticed the gaze and moved her cape back into place, so it covered her body before putting the hood up. “You men are all the same, regardless of whether you’re a mutant or not.” She muttered as she returned to her horse. “There’s a village called Woolsthorpe just north of here. They have food and lodging and are not as unwelcoming as some to witchers. Farewell.” She mounted her horse and rode away before Geralt could even react. He shook his head at the strange interaction before grabbing his clothes and submerging them in the water to clean them.

 II

  He had managed to reach the village just before night fell. He left his horse outside of an inn, tying the reins to a post, and walked in. The noise of the patrons continued, but they still greeted him with unsettled glances and stares filled with seething hatred. He bought some ale and a meal from the innkeeper, who tried his best to avoid eye contact with the witcher. As he turned to find a table, he noticed a familiar figure sat in a corner alone – the woman from earlier. He approached with his drink in hand. He had no idea what invisible force was driving him to go sit with her, but he was powerless to stop it. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” She looked up from her ale and smiled warmly at him. “Please.” She gestured for him to sit opposite her, which he did so cheerfully. “I see you listened to what I told you.” She said, still smiling and sipping on her tankard. He smiled in return. “I am not a man that ignores word of a place that does not pelt me with stones behind my back or refuse me service for my profession.” She nodded. “You are wise, Geralt of Rivia.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise, to which she chuckled. “You are the only man that matches the description that comes with your name, sir. I would have to be a blind fool not to recognise you.” “Sounds fair. I, too, would be a blind fool if I did not recognise you, Grey Witch.” She wrinkled her nose at the mention of the nickname she was known by across The Continent. “Please, my name is Sage. The Grey Witch is such a silly nickname that the peasantry has graced me with.” He chuckled at her reaction. “My apologies, Sage. I did not mean to offend you.” He replied, still chuckling. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Hush, witcher. I did not allow you to sit with me so you could make fun of me.” “Yes, yes, of course not.” A moment of silence. “Tell me, how did you end up working like a witcher?” He asked, as the barmaid placed his food in front of him. “I was abandoned at the School of The Griffin as an infant and was raised among the witchers that resided there. Despite not being allowed to be a real witcher, I was still trained like one.” She paused to take a sip of her ale before continuing. “I left the school with a witcher by the name of Valamir and travelled with him. He was a little bit older than I was and he treated me as he treated any other witcher.” There was a sad look in her eyes as she mentioned the name of her old companion. “We took up any work for a witcher together. Until human error got him killed by a chimera.” “I am sorry.” He replied with his brow furrowing sympathetically. She shook her head and waved off the apology. “It was going to happen one day. You witchers do not usually live until old age; human error and slower reflexes normally take you in battle.” “How old was he?”

“Old enough for his reflexes to fail him. My lifespan is far longer than his ever was, so I was going to outlast him anyway.” Could she have been an elf? No, the points of her ears would have been visible, and she would have been much more attractive. She was not an ugly woman, but not a great beauty that would make kings fall at her feet – she was above average, at least. Elves were extremely attractive, almost unnaturally so. He decided not to ask; he was unlikely to see her again, so it was no use getting invested in another stranger. “Was the medallion his?” She looked down at the medallion hanging from her neck and started to fiddle with it. “Yes, it was. He told me that when he perished, I should take his medallion to remember him.” Her face fell into a frown. He felt a small pang of guilt for prying too much. She cleared her throat and looked back up at Geralt, releasing the medallion from her fingers. “Enough about me, witcher, I would like to know more about you. Do you have any interests outside the realm of killing monsters?”

“Oh Geralt, my dear friend!” Before he could answer, a voice was heard from the bar, a familiar one. Stood by the bar with his lute in hand was his friend, Jaskier, or Dandelion – a man known for being a cad and a coward, with a part time stint as a bard. The bard strolled over, beaming with delight at the sight of his dear friend, the witcher. Geralt smiled slightly at him as he approached the table. “It is good to see you, Dandelion.” He replied cheerfully. The troubadour was about to grace him with a response before he spotted Sage sat, fiddling with her empty tankard. He smoothly took the seat next to her, leaning his elbow on the table. “Geralt, you did not tell me you were in the presence of such a beauty.” His tone of voice changed to a flirtatious one. He attempted to take her hand to kiss the back of it, but she swiftly pulled away, glaring at him. “He trusted your eyes would tell you that, bard.” She scowled, making the witcher chuckle. “I am sure you have heard of Sage, Dandelion. She is the Grey Witch.” The bard’s gazed snapped away from the opening in the woman’s blouse to the witcher’s face in surprise, before turning back to her, this time looking her in the eye with some semblance of fear. “My apologies, Lady Sage.” She wrinkled her nose for the second time that night. “Quiet or I’ll hang you by your trousers from the rafters.” He moved his seating position to face his friend following the threat – he was taking no risks.

“Geralt, my friend, how long has it been since I last saw you?” He tried to change the subject. “About two months. How have you been?” The witcher asked, smiling. “Wonderful! I met a wonderful girl in a city a few weeks back.” Dandelion began to recount the times he had spent with the woman he had met, in graphic detail. Geralt was used to these conversations; he found himself watching the monster hunter that sat beside him, who was looking down at the table, fiddling with her medallion again. She had a kind face, but that face also had a scar on the right cheek, likely from either a sword or the claw of a creature. He could see battle scars riddling her chest and forearms. She had clearly seen many a monster in her time. She suddenly interrupted his observations by standing up. “Wait, wait, where are you going?” The bard asked, as if somehow surprised she did not want to listen to his story. “I am tired, so I will be retiring for the night.” She responded, picking up her cape and tankard. “I bid you both farewell and if I do not see you tomorrow, I hope to see you again soon.” With that, she walked away before anyone could bid their farewells, leaving her tankard on the bar and heading to the room she had rented for the night. The two men were left, watching after her, the bard in amazement and the witcher in fascination.

“Do you think she hunts monsters like that?” The troubadour finally said after a few moments of silence between the two of them. Geralt looked at him with judgement. “It’s highly unlikely an experienced monster hunter is willing to fight a basilisk without leather armour, at least.” “I like the image of her fighting a basilisk with her blouse open like that a lot more.” “Of course you do.” The witcher yawned. “I should retire for the night, too. Please, avoid trouble while you are here, Dandelion. I refuse to clean up after you again.” “I can’t make any promises!” “Good night, Jaskier.” He replied before taking his leave to his room for the night.

 III

 A few weeks had passed since he last saw Sage. By the time he had woken up in the morning, her and her horse were already gone. He was not one to dwell on thoughts about people he had just met recently and only exchanged small conversation with, but for some reason, he kept thinking about her. There was something about her that made him want to tell her his deepest worries, but he barely knew her. Was it a spell? Unlikely. Maybe it was her kindly face? Quite possibly. She had a very friendly face that would make anyone open their hearts up to her, no matter how much she did not want them to. Despite only meeting her twice briefly, he missed her a little bit. He could not tell if it was her he missed or the fact that she spoke to him without fear or hatred; she did not seem to be intimidated by his appearance like everyone else was. A small smile graced his lips as he rode through the forest, lost in his thoughts. 

The sound of his horse whinnying broke his train of thought and made him look around, slightly alarmed. The sound of a wyvern could be heard from a distance, and it sounded like it was attacking something. He urged his horse towards the noise. As the wyvern came into sight, the horse refused to go any closer. Sighing, he dismounted, sword ready in hand. As he got closer, he heard the grunting sounds of a woman, as if she were hitting something. He moved some of the foliage out of his way and there, expertly fighting the wyvern was Sage. The kindliness of her face had managed to disappear entirely as she looked at the creature was a mixture of concentration and rage. He waited in amongst the greenery, watching her battle. The creature swung its’ body around to knock her feet from under her with its’ tail, which she expertly dodged with a jump before she used her silver sword to slice the neck in two, decapitating the creature. Wyverns were notably inflexible creatures that had very little give in their spines; for them to be found in a forest was most unusual since they did not have the ability to manoeuvre adequately between the trees. The head of the creature hit the ground, she stood there, panting slightly, watching as the creature’s headless body toppled over.

“Did you enjoy the show, witcher?” She asked, not looking at him. He emerged from the bushes, looking surprised that she realised he was there. She chuckled knowingly. “I could not undergo the experiments you witchers did, so I have to be much more aware of my surroundings than you do. I am not equipped with the immunity to disease and quick healing that you are.” She cleaned her sword with a rag she carried with her as she spoke. “I wish I had seen more of it.” He replied honestly. She chuckled again, putting her rag away. Before she got the chance to put her sword away, the noise of another creature was heard. The duo recognised the noise as that of a chimera. The bleating of a goat mixed with the hissing of a snake and the roaring of a lion. The creature came bounding out from between the trees, just narrowly missing Sage as it charged by before turning to face them. “Must have smelled the wyvern.” Geralt muttered to himself, staring down the creature that had fixated itself on him. The creature charged at him recklessly, which he dodged easily. Sage used the opportunity to cut off the head of the snake that was on its rear end. The creature bleated and roared in pain as the head of snake dropped to the floor, still twitching. A large paw swung at her; she narrowly dodged the blow. Another paw came at her, and then another and another. After she dodged the last swing, she tripped her feet on a tree root and fell backwards against a tree. The chimera approached her slowly, snarling as blood continued to spray from the tail end where the snake head once was. The witcher had no time to think, just act; he charged, sliding under the creature and slicing open its abdomen. He rolled out the side before more than some splashes of blood could get on his body. The chimera staggered backwards before falling over onto its side, its’ internal organs leaking out of the slice that ran from its neck down to its stomach.

The witcher looked over at Sage; she had a look of fear on her face. He approached her slowly so as not to alarm her – people could be unpredictable when they were fearful. “Sage?” He said softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “That prick nearly killed me.” She said after a moment before looking at Geralt. “Thank you. I honestly do not think a jab in the back of the throat with a silver sword would have stopped this beast killing me.” He smiled as he stood up and offered her a hand, which she took. “I cannot tell if it is fate or good fortune that you showed up, but I am very glad you did.” “I just happened to be passing by.” He replied, wiping his sword on the grass before putting it away. “Well, thank the gods either way.” She cleaned off her sword with her rag again before putting them both away. “Are you heading somewhere specific?” She asked after a moment of silence. “No, I was just riding around to see if I could find anything, be it a monster or a village with the need for a witcher.” “Well, there is a village nearby here that has a reward for that chimera. I was headed there because they also had a reward for that wyvern.” She said as she picked up the head of the wyvern and strapped it to her horse, covering it over to prevent alarming the villagers as she passes through. “You killed it. The reward belongs to you.” He hesitated for a moment before cutting off the lion and goat head and strapping them to his horse. “The head of the snake is yours.” She scowled at him. “I am already getting a reward for the wyvern. Take the reward for the chimera. Cutting off the snake head only pissed it off.” The look in her eye told him he was not going to be able to argue with her. He sighed before picking up the snake head and strapping it to his horse with the other two heads. The pair mounted their horses and set their course for the village.

He took glances at her as they rode onwards; her hair had not fallen out of place, not a single flower that adorned her hair had shifted, she still looked elegant. His glances did not go unnoticed as she gave him a look. “If you have something to remark about my appearance, witcher, I suggest you come out and say it or I will gouge your eyes out.” Not likely to be a hollow threat. “Forgive me, but for a woman that works as if she were a witcher, you are remarkably elegant.” She scoffed. “I am half elf. I should be at least somewhat naturally elegant, otherwise my biological father sold me short with his genetics.” She chuckled. He raised an eyebrow. She had none of the physical features elves normally had. There were no points on her ears poking through her hair, she was not tall, nor was she outlandishly attractive. “If your father was an elf, what exactly did you inherit from him?” “His strength, his lifespan and his ears. But I do not have the ears anymore.” “Why?” “Valamir cut my ears to keep me safe during, what the humans called, the Great Cleansing. It had been brewing for years and he knew it was going to happen, so he cut off the points before it did, to give them enough time to heal over.” “Forgive me if this is too personal, but have you ever met your biological parents?” “Only my father. My mother had passed away a few years after I was born. My father is a dignified elf who saw no shame in adapting to human life. He lives as a scholar and a merchant now. I speak to him rarely.” He nodded thoughtfully. “You ask a lot of personal questions, witcher.” “My apologies, I am simply interested in you. I have never heard of a woman working as a witcher. Forgive me if I pry too much.” She shook her head. “I do not hold many things as too personal to be shared, I am just surprised that a witcher has tried to create some kind of personal connection. Outside of Valamir, I barely knew any of the other witchers that we had come across, even if we had met them hundreds of times before.” She paused for a brief moment. “It is nice to talk to somebody sometimes, especially if that person is interested in getting to know you.” He smiled slightly. “Yes. And it is equally nice to find somebody you are interested in getting to know, especially when it has been a long time since you made a new friend.” She smiled also. He had not expressed an interest in another person for a few years and he did not imagine that he ever would again, but he supposed he was wrong. On the jet-black mare next to him was a rider that fascinated him more than anybody else ever had. He wanted to continually ask questions about her, learn every little thing about her, but he did not know why. He wanted to talk to her for hours, travel with her and just be with her every moment possible. But why? He could not answer that question. The two rode on in silence as the witcher lost himself in his own idle thoughts.

[beckzorz]

WORLD ON FIRE (2/12)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader; background skinny!Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter Warnings: Canon-typical violence; language; sexual content. Summary: Brooklyn, 1948. Bucky Barnes, war hero, lives three floors down, and the evenings he comes to watch the sunset with you on the fire escape are the best times in your shabby life. But reality is far uglier than it seems when swinging your legs six floors up with Bucky at your side. On top of a good-for-nothing brother and a poor family upstate, there’s a new mob hitman in town: the Winter Soldier. A/N: Written for @cametobuyplums Fizz’s 2000 Plums Writing Challenge—thanks Fizz! xoxo

2. Wednesday, May 28

Dawn comes too soon for your liking. The birds outside are making their usual early morning racket, and you grumble to yourself as you reach over to close the window. The touch of nighttime chill sends a shiver along your body. You yank your shawl around your shoulders as you wobble over to your galley kitchen and flip on the radio.

Quiet jazz pipes through your little apartment. You hum along as you fry up toast and eggs in the same pan you’ve been using for years. The handle is scuffed, the bottom blackened with use, and you sigh wistfully as you think of the day when you’ll have new things, nicer things. Like your friends, the lucky ones who still spend every Sunday afternoon with you in Prospect Park. Times like this, holed up with your old frying pan, you can’t help but wonder at it. Mary’s a typist for a fancy company in Manhattan; Goldie works for a bank, handling more money than you can imagine. Their pots and pans are shiny, bright enough to catch any man’s eye. Mary’s got a fellow, a nice one with a steady job; Goldie’s always had a string of jaw-dropped admirers at her beck and call. You… You don’t.

Would you even want a slew of suitors? You picture a long line of them, tall and suited and hatted, faces in shadow, and you shudder. No, men with fancy suits and fedoras aren’t your type. Your eyes have always fallen elsewhere. It’s gotten you nowhere, of course, but—well, you’re not so fickle as all that.

Loveless or not, fancy job or not, Mary and Goldie have stuck by you. You adore them for it. Beyond that, you like them. They’re lovely, and it’s nice to listen to them, too—nice to imagine yourself, one day, in their shoes.

And then there’s your brother. You grimace as you plate up your breakfast. Best not to think about him too early in the morning, or you’ll give yourself indigestion.

If nothing else, breakfast is good.

Your eyes drift around your apartment as you chew. You still have to make your bed. There’s a faded paisley tablecloth under your plate, the same one you remember from your faint memory of visiting your aunt with your mother as a toddler. There are still hints of your aunt here and there, but it’s your photo album on the shelf, your favorite books. Here, at least, you’ve made a mark on your own.

—

You slip in the side door to Dr. Simon’s house ten minutes early. His house is one of the nicest in the neighborhood—five stories all to himself. Well, himself and his live-in help.

“Morning, Alice,” you call as you bound down to the basement kitchen.

Alice, fifty-odd and pleasantly wrinkled, glances up from the pile of dishes at the sudsy sink as you burst out from the stairwell, a grin on your face.

“Nice to see you in early for a change,” Alice teases. She nods her head at a plate of warm biscuits. A just reward for a bad night’s sleep.

“Mmm, fank you,” you say around an unladylike chomp. You swallow. “And I’m almost always early!”

“Well, if you say so,” Alice says, laughing. She scrubs at a baking dish—it’s shiny, of course—and quirks her brow at you. “You know someone’s already here?”

“Whaa?!” You nearly spit out your second bite and stare dumbly at the clock. “But—I’m early!”

“It’s that Rogers boy,” Alice says. She shudders. “Poor thing.”

“Rogers boy?” you repeat. “He’s older than me! Don’t tell me I’m a girl.”

“To me, you’re both children,” Alice says. She scrubs harder at the baking dish. “And I can’t help feeling sorry for him. All those ailments, and his poor ma dead near ten years, and him still struggling to scrape along…”

You swallow the last of your biscuit and brush the crumbs off your fingers into the wastebasket. “Golly, Alice, he’s doing alright, isn’t he? Didn’t he meet a girl?”

“Well, but she’s English.”

A roll of your eyes as you pick up the plate to bring to the living-cum-waiting room. “Alright, Alice. See ya later.”

Alice waves goodbye, and you head upstairs. You push the basement door shut with your foot and wander through the dining room, glancing curiously at the curtained glass doors to Dr. Simon’s office. Steve Rogers has always fascinated you, if only because he’s friends with Bucky. Anyone, anything, attached to Bucky Barnes grabs your attention whether you care for it to or not.

You’ve met Steve in passing a few times. He’s always been polite, unassuming until someone did something stupid. You can’t help the twitch in your lips when you think of Steve Rogers, no taller than you and far skinnier, threatening any fool who dared do something he deemed wrong.

Strange, too, to consider how skinny artist Steve Rogers and boxing-champion-turned-war-hero Bucky Barnes grew to be such good friends. You don’t know how they met. Was Steve always so reckless? Was Bucky always so protective? A strange duo, but it seemed to work. At any rate, the few times you’d seen Bucky’s fond exasperation towards Steve, with his big soul and righteous indignation, your heart had melted a little more.

Steve’s low voice filters through the office doors, and you shake your head to clear your thoughts. He’s a patient, not your friend.

Biscuits go on the table in the waiting room, and you glide up the fancy staircase in the foyer as elegantly as you can manage. You settle at your desk in the upstairs office, ankles crossed as you check today’s roster of appointments. Old Ms. Flynn will be in at nine, Mrs. Barnett with her son Teddy around nine-thirty, and so on. Lunch at eleven-thirty; you’ll have to tell Alice to have it ready earlier than usual, but that can wait. First, to type up all of yesterday’s notes for their files.

The day passes in a hazy blur. It’s warm, almost sticky in the office. But there’s a fresh bouquet with lavender on your desk from the front garden, and lunch is delicious, and you get to leave a little early. All in all, a nice Wednesday.

—

… Or not.

When you turn the corner onto your street, you stop short. The woman behind you almost bowls you over, and your surprised gasp catches the attention of the young man sitting on your stoop.

Your brother.

“Sis!”

His babyish face breaks into a sunny grin as he pops to his feet. You sigh and walk over to him, your smile half forced.

“Hi, David.”

David bounds over and wraps you in a too-tight hug.

“I’ve gotta breathe, you goober,” you tell him crossly. You wriggle out of his grip and clutch your purse tightly against your side. “What’re you doing here?”

“Special delivery for my favorite big sister,” David says. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

“Fine. Come in, I guess.” You pull out your key and open the door, glancing up and down the street. No one you know, not yet at least.

David whistles as he waits, seemingly oblivious to your obvious discomfort. But after weeks with no word from him, you’ve started to hear things. Things you don’t want to hear, things you wish you could refute.

But you can’t, because you don’t know anything anymore. The sweet eighteen-year old who went off to war came back at twenty with a bad streak. Your baby brother isn’t innocent anymore, whether you know the details or not.

And for the love of god, you really don’t want to know the details.

Five flights up pass in silence, save for his light, cheerful whistle. You’re used to the climb, and David’s never been a whiner. He’s a lot of things, but not that.

You lock the door behind you, glancing around your apartment for anything valuable you’ve left out. Well, not that you have much of value. Everything you do have is all stashed in the usual hiding spots.

Honking from the street has you hurrying to the window. You peer at the empty fire escape and yank the curtains closed.

One deep breath, and then you turn back to David with arms crossed. He’s already sprawled in one of your two rickety chairs, spinning a coin between his fingers. Neat trick, but you’re not impressed. He’s always been good with his hands.

“A delivery, huh?”

He rolls his eyes and pouts. “C’mon, sis, you can put in a little more effort. Aren’t you happy to see me? I came all this way…”

“From where? I don’t even know where you live anymore! Or where you’ve been—”

“Oh, don’t be a worrywart,” he says. “I’m doin’ peachy.” He tugs an envelope out of his pocket, eyes glinting as he holds it up. “And this is for the folks back home. Think you can send it over for me? I never did like the post office.”

The envelope sags a little in his grip. You step closer and take it, eyes widening at the weight. It’s not sealed—you peek inside.

You grip the edge of the table, knees weak. Bills. Twenty dollar bills, a hefty bunch. More than you’ve ever seen in a single place.

“David,” you gasp. “How do you have this?!”

He shrugs.

“David,” you repeat, “how?”

You sink into the other chair, heart hammering. A thousand guesses flash though your head, but you push them all aside as you wait for the truth. The truth, or whatever twisted version of it your brother will tell you.

“Found a good job,” he says. He looks hopeful, earnest, almost like that innocent eighteen-year old who sailed to war. “Ain’tcha proud of me, sis?”

Your heart breaks. You set the envelope aside and grab his hands.

“Oh David, they’ll be so happy. This’ll mean so much to them.”

“Grandma can get her medicine easy as pie,” David says, eyes bright. “And maybe even some good meat for a change.”

You nod, tears pricking at your eyes. You can’t tell him how disappointed you are, not when he’s so darn earnest, so happy to be doing his part to help the folks back home.

After months of nothing from him, you’ll take this, no questions asked. For your family, for those bright eyes, you’ll do it.

—

David teases you over dinner—food you bought, food you cooked—and drops a sloppy kiss on your cheek as he bounds out at twilight. His bright smile never dropped once he’d gotten your approval, and as you watch him go the first half-flight down, you can tell he’s still grinning.

It doesn’t matter that your approval is forced, or that he had to fudge the truth to get it. He’s happy. That’s what matters.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. You don’t like to think of David as a liar. He’s your brother. You love him. If you don’t know what he is, what he does—well, it’s easier that way. For both of you.

[b-kitsune]

Many ways to say I love you: Day Thirty-one.

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Prompt: Happily Ever After. Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Post canon. Status: Part 7/7

''It's amazing you still keep those old glasses of your brother.'' Collen commented more disgusted than surprised when she saw the dirty old frame on her hands, Pidge just shrugged without giving too much importance.

''I put them on Chip when I finished it, and I needed something old after all.''

''Haven't you brought that robot? I thought I was attached to you with some kind of strange technology, it's always closed when I go through your work.''

''Nah, while I'm out Chip can take care of my work, it serves more on earth.''

She tried to stay still as soon as her mother pulled a few strands more than she should while doing an elegant hairstyle over her head. Her hair was already falling on her back like when she was fourteen, vaguely reminding that smiling and innocent teenager who barely understood the world around her. For a moment, Pidge thought she was being her again, at least that day she felt more dreamy than usual.

She wondered internally if were hormones.

Her mother hummed curiously when Pidge tightened the frame with more force than she should.

''Be careful, you will break it before the ceremony.''

''I can't help it.'' She said barely, the nerves began to return, making her hands tremble slightly. Colleen smiled sympathetically, reminding herself as scared as her daughter was on the most important day of her life.

''Everything will be fine, sweetheart. Remember that this day is to celebrate your happiness, nothing has to go wrong. Unless you change Keith's name on the altar.''

''Can I?'' Inquired worried, Colleen laughed slightly.

''Unless you want to marry someone else, it is very difficult to happen.''

''No, I think that's impossible.'' Both smiled as Colleen continued her work, watching as her daughter's hands began to relax on the old frame she still held with longing.

''Are you sure that is what you want to sacrifice for tonight?'' Pidge smiled warmly, staring determinedly at her mother through the large mirror in front of both. ''Even Matt was surprised when he knew.''

''Completely.''

The lens mount was bent and somewhat damaged by the passage of time, feeling strange on her hands as a time ago when she used it frequently to cover her feminine features with the pseudonym of Pidge Gunderson, and as part of a secret promise to her family where she would find them where they were, if she had to cross the entire universe for it.

In effect, Pidge succeeded at sixteen. Being the first teenager to be part of a group of legendary heroes made up of an archaic legend that was almost lost as a simple fairy tale. Those lenses were one of the few possessions that accompanied her throughout the trip that felt so strangely distant, although only ten years had passed since the end of the war, and the reconstruction of planets was almost complete, Pidge still felt it like a dream too far away, almost alien to her at that moment.

She remembered with longing the years in which she piloted the green lion with her friends to stop the Galra empire from the devastation of the universe, naively believing that they would achieve it without losing anything in return provided they had the lions by their side. But to this day, seeing through the window how the statue in memory of Allura rose imposingly in the distance, part of her heart ached for her sacrifice.

She didn't remember her as Lance or Coran, who still mourned their loss when they thought that no one saw them in the halls of the new castle, but was her friend and a vital figure to keep rope when her forces faltered during the war. Who never gave up on any of them and supported her at all times, even if she herself hadn't been too kind to Allura from the beginning.

That is why Pidge and Keith, after a deep conversation, decided to celebrate their marriage on the planet of the new Altea. So, everyone, both body and soul, would be in the ceremony to be partakers of their union as husband and wife.

Pidge thought it was still a dream and that she would wake up on her desk in Garrison as part of her active imagination. She never thought much about the idea of ​​marriage, her life in the search for her family at an early age, being a champion for almost all her adolescence and later becoming captain of the land defense force and training new defenders of the universe, made her desire to be part of a relationship or a family not being a high priority. Almost considering it as something that wasn't for her and that only technology and her friends at her side Pidge could find eternal happiness in her life. And possibly she would have died with the same idea.

Until her feelings for Keith grew as her relationship with her progressed even after the war, making her feelings change, and she wished had something else in her life. Something that she thought wasn't for her, and even to think that Pidge would simply not find anyone who loved her as she was in the way her family and friends did.

But he found that person precisely whom she considered vital in her life.

It was like a ghost, keeping around her silently, whispering a desire over her ear when she saw him walking at the Castle of Lions. When he supported her during the battles against the sentries and they synchronized uniquely as a team. Pidge thought those feelings died when Keith left with the Blade of Marmora, but it was still present when he came back with Lotor's truth and a new image.

Pidge remained ignorant of what she really felt for his leader and faithful friend until she realized that she could no longer hide it like a teenage interest.

One night where everyone gathered to spend a new year together on the planet Daibazaal, after alcohol loomed over their senses and the dream hit all their friends, Keith proposed her.

It took five years to start living together because of their jobs, and another five years to set a date for their marriage, partly caused by pressure from their friends to want to celebrate a marriage between the traditions of the Earth and Daibazaal.

The process was difficult to coordinate, even with the help of Lance and Kolivan who remembered in detail how the unions were made before the Galra empire took control of the universe.

But there was Pidge, looking at herself in front of a mirror with a completely white dress, as part of the Earth's traditions. She didn't want to be a princess, much less wear a dress too heavy to wear as Coran and Lance suggested, so she opted for a simple fall that fits elegantly on her waist, and sleeves that opened at the end giving her an appearance almost fancy as Krolia's suggestion, being the way traditional Galra dresses wore for a marriage ceremony. It felt like a fairy, almost thinking that it had come out of Tolkien's classic books.

But it was also a gift from Keith. And a way to show her that she was completely committed to both parts of his blood.

When her mother finished decorating her hair in a large braid that fell from the side of her neck, she saw that Colleen's eyes began to flood with tears.

Pidge's heart was compressed with happiness and sadness when she saw her mother so excited.

''Please don't cry mom.'' She asked in a groan, holding her own tears. ''If you cry, you will make me cry and Nyma will have to put on makeup again.''

''I'm not crying, I promise.'' She smiled giving her a warm hug, being careful not to ruin her hair. ''I never thought that this day would come, I am so happy to know that you will not die alone.''

''Mom!''

''What? It was a valid fear.'' She chuckled as she dried the tears that escaped her eyes. ''We will never be forever, and I know you love your friends very much, but is not the same, Katie, and even matt found a lovely relationship with that girl Nyma. I know you are a person strong enough to be alone, but your father and I are very happy that you have found someone who loves you as much as we do.''

''I will consider it as the way you tell me that you are proud of me.'' Pidge answered, answering her hug. Colleen hummed in affirmation.

''I've always been.''

 ...

 ''You know? If you keep moving, you will make a hole in the floor.''

''Can you leave here?'' Keith inquired irritated as soon as Lance took it to stop him. ''I don't remember inviting you.''

''You didn't it, Pidge did it! I didn't know you still hated me with everything we've lived together.'' He groaned with one hand on his chest and another on his forehead, in a dramatic pose. Keith sighed heavily as he moved again to walk around the place. ''Come on man, it shouldn't take long.''

''She had to be here twenty minutes ago.''

''Hey.'' They heard a greeting that both caught their attention, Shiro came with an outfit that Keith vaguely reminded him of the role-playing paladin that Coran used to make them play when they visited him, giving Keith a warm hug as soon as he saw him. ''How are you?''

''It could be worse.''

''Lies! Shiro, Keith just kicked me out of his marriage.'' Shiro raised an eyebrow at Keith to explain himself, he just made a gesture with his hand downplaying the matter.

''I'm worried, Pidge had to arrive many minutes ago.''

''Well, I ran into Nyma on the way. She told me that Pidge arrived late at the Hotel during the morning to be put on makeup so she will surely be late a few more minutes.''

''Did you hear Keith? Pidge will come, it's not as if she regretted eternity with you or something.''

They both realized how Lance's poor choice of words made Keith pale completely, sitting on the side of the altar to hide from the few guests who were sitting inside the chapel. Shiro shook his head avoiding hitting Lance for making Keith's nerves increase dangerously.

''You are amazing.''

''Sorry, I didn't know that could affect him. I mean, it's Pidge! She will not regret a courtship of years a few minutes after getting married.''

''But it's still Keith, Lance.''

Shiro said as if the answer was completely obvious, sitting next to Keith who had his head held between his two hands. Shiro looked sideways, watching carefully who was inside the chapel. He could see Curtis talking to the MFE pilots next to the entrance. The old commanders of Lotor observing the Renaissance paintings on one side and Krolia next to Samuel sitting in the first ones talking animatedly about some random subject of not enough to listen.

Shiro took a couple of cigarettes out of his inner pocket, which Keith didn't expect his friend to light, eagerly placing his lips as he approached the fire Shiro held between his fingers. Lance gasped as soon as he saw him, but preferred not to say anything at that moment. He knew that Keith really needed to relax even at the cost of that disgusting vice he had acquired during his years of humanitarian aid work.

After a few minutes and a couple of whiffs, Shiro broke the silence.

''You know Lance is playing.''

''What if she really doesn't come? What am I supposed to tell my mother? Or Kolivan?''

''You're overreacting much more than me in my marriage.'' Shiro replied laughing at his paranoia.

''That's because you knew Curtis loves you.''

''So you think Pidge doesn't?''

''She could find someone better. What kind of future can I give her? I spend most of the time traveling through the universe than with her.'' He looked down dejectedly. ''I wouldn't be impressed if she got tired of me...''

''Keith, I think you've let Lance's teasing get under your skin. Katie is as in love with you as you are with her.''

''… Do you think?'' He looked up at Shiro, he nodded smiling warmly, releasing another puff of smoke.

''I think so, she wouldn't have agreed to marry you if she wasn't because she was completely sure of what she was doing. It would be an offense on your part that you doubt her feelings. Don't you think?''

''I think you're right.'' He answered thoughtfully.

''Besides, I can attest that in marriage you often think if you chose correctly or not. Feelings change, but as long as you trust each other and can support each other there will be nothing to separate you from her.''

''Do you think we are able to support each other in spite of everything?'' Keith questioned putting out the cigarette. Shiro laughed openly.

''Well, you were the arms of Voltron, there is no one else in the universe that is able to support you as you two do.''

Keith smiled wistfully, those words echoed in his head vaguely recalling those days of the war in which he and Pidge were able to fight against ships full of enemies, with a facility and displacement that seemed to be made to be together.

Suddenly, people began to enter, claiming that the car in which Pidge was coming was already on its way.

Keith took a deep breath before getting up and being hugged by Shiro, much more confident and determined than he was minutes ago.

''Ready?''

''Ready.''

They placed themselves in position, waiting for the bride to enter through the main door. It was the first time that Keith wore a Galra suit like that, a black suit where he joined together with a violet-colored armor that gave him the impression that it was to honor the combative blood of his people. His mother watched him nostalgic from the front row, perhaps thinking about what it would be like if his father were there to see him marry the woman he chose to spend the rest of his life.

But Keith didn't feel sad at all, his father accompanied him at all times, as part of the energy of the universe that connected with each being even if he had left a long time ago.

Like Allura.

He heard the music begin as soon as he saw Samuel carrying the most beautiful woman the world had ever observed. Pidge wore a suit that seemed to have mixed both traditions, causing his heart to compress with bliss. He saw her laugh nervously as she approached enough to appreciate her better, her hair fell on the side of her neck, reminding her of the photo she was holding with her brother before the launch of the Kerberos mission.

Years ago, Pidge and Keith realized that, in one of those photos, he and Shiro were on one side watching some of the missiles that would be used for the flight. Pidge had laughed alluding that they were perhaps destined to meet. And at that moment, as soon as he received a warm hug from Samuel Holt and took his daughter's hand, he knew it was a reality.

Both were destined to be together, in whatever way.

When Pidge approached him to stand in front of the altar, she grimaced for a moment, drawing Keith from a strong movement that confused more than one person.

She gasped away in disgust.

''You smoked!'' Many people hummed worried, the discomfort of Pidge's face was evident and Keith felt he was in serious trouble until he remembered an obvious fact.

''You were thirty minutes late!''

''… Yeah, you're right.''

The panic disappeared as quickly as it came when both were placed in position, making more than one person laugh at the unique and honest dynamics of both.

 ...

 ''Keith was so nervous that it seemed that at any moment he would pass out, and Pidge looked like she would never have worn such high heels, but everything went well. I didn't know that the Galra were in the habit of burning their past possessions during ceremonies, it was quite interesting to see Pidge decide on Matt's glasses and Keith for his father's jacket.'' A slight sigh left his lips as he continued playing with the grass. ''I wish you were there to see it.'' Lance placed a new junyberry next to the statue, as part of his tradition every time he visited Altea. ''But I know you were there, proud of both.''

He swallowed the lump that stuck in his throat for a few moments at the thought that, somehow, he was convincing himself that his presence through life was the way he was satisfied to be close to the person that loved. Lance was happy for his friends, but a small part of herself felt full of envy when they started the first dance as husband and wife. He wanted to accompany them, but he needed a moment to remember that he was still there, beside him, recalling the beauty and grace that characterized her so much.

''I miss you so much Allura.''

A strong current alerted his senses so quickly that he relied on the marble not to be carried, Keith and Pidge who were laughing on the outskirts of Hunk's jokes were shocked when they saw how the blue lion descended from the sky, which he undertook flight to an unknown place in the universe almost a decade ago.

Everyone ran to the Allura statue where the lion seemed to have descended. There, like a lost dream, the white hair of two people welcomed a new future that they thought they would never be able to have for the cruelty of a few.

Lance ran as soon as he recognized the first figure who visited him almost every night, her promise had been real, she would never stop being by his side.

The blue lion began a new flight, her mission was accomplished and the future of their paladins was now in their own hands.

Happily ever after.

[rex101111]

Character concept: Aria/Justice

because I can’t get it out of my head here’s some scattered nonsense of ideas that I would like to see if Aria becomes a playable character again in the next Guilty Gear :D just like, a bunch of stuff thrown at the wall because I want these out so they won’t bother me in my head so here you go!

Intro: Shot of a hand holding a remote with a prominent red button on it, the thumb presses down on the button. Camera pans up to see a shine in the sky, followed by a huge shadow dropping swiftly down. Cut to a side view of Aria with her hands crossed as the shadow stops in front of her, a lightly altered recreation of the Gear Justice. She looks aside, at the camera and her opponent, says her opening line, before the suit opens up and she jumps inside. The suit closes around her as lights turn on all at once and the Gear, Aria, turns to her opponent with clenched claws.

opening line ideas:

Sol: “Fredrick, I want to test this thing out, don’t hold back like last time.”

“Don’t give me that look, I know you’re itching for another go.”

“I get antsy too you know, research gets boring sometimes.”

“No, I’m not mad. I am still going to beat you up though, it’s the principle of the matter.”

Dizzy: “Alright, now take a deep breath, and don’t hold back.”

“I know you don’t like fighting, but keeping your skills sharp is important.”

“You can do better then that, I know you can, I’ll drag it out of you if I need to.”

“You can’t hurt me dear, so let Necro have some fun this time, eh?”

Ky: “I need to know for certain if you can stand by her side, your majesty, so get ready.”

“A mother-in-law’s advice is healthy for any marriage, now pay close attention.”

“You never did fight Justice did you? Now’s your chance.”

“Dizzy gets a lot from me; my looks, my eyes, and my fire power.”

Baiken: “Take your anger, your pain, your hatred, and fight me!”

“I remember the feel of your blade against my armor, this time don’t miss.”

“This is your revenge, come and take it!”

“Guilt isn’t weighing me down, but I won’t sit by and let you wallow.”

Generic: “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt you, just think of it as an intense work out.”

“I installed a few new tricks into this baby, keep your guard up!”

“This isn’t the real deal, but it will be more then enough to handle you.”

Instant Kill: Aria lunches out a sort of tether to trap the opponent in place, fires a barrage of lasers, and then charges her Gammy Ray. She charges it up until the glow of it reaches the sky, and then flies towards her target to fire it, at point blank range. DESTROYED. Open to a large canyon in front of the suit, stretching out into the horizon. The suit opens and out comes Aria, grimly satisfied and the wind whipping her hair around while she says her winning line. Aria WIN!

“Asuka really went for overkill with this, didn’t he?”

“And that, is how you win a battle, even if you lose a war.”

“Most strategies fall apart when faced with overwhelming force, bigger stick always wins.”

“It may be a pale imitation, a reproduction, but this lady still packs a mean punch doesn’t she?”

Normal Victory Pose: The suits opens to let Aria step out before kneeling behind her, she leans back to sit, not at all elegantly, on it’s head with a weary sigh, reaches into her pocket to pull out a lollipop with a kind smile as she says her line before she starts eating it. Aria WIN! 

“Yikes, did I overdo it again? Sorry about that.”

“The thrusters still need tuning up, thanks for running around so much that I noticed.”

“You did well back there! A little more practice and I’ll have to work for it next time.”

“Next time, when you think of picking a fight with a laser shooting robot, don’t.”

End match quotes (AKA where I completely indulge in my HCs about Aria post Rev2):

Sol: “Hey Fredrick, remember that time I challenged you and Asuka to an arm wrestling competition? You two complained about sore wrists for weeks! *short chuckle*...brings back memories. doesn’t it?...”

Dizzy: “Very good Dizzy! Literally ever single reader and scanner on this thing burst and broke during that fight! W-wait no don’t look worried! That’s a good thing! I’m proud of you, really.”

Ky: “If I’m being honest, I really don’t get what Dizzy sees in you. Not that I’m questioning her choices, God forbid! You’re just not my type at all, bit too straight laced...though, that short hair look does suit you better, very handsome.”

Leo: “You make an odd King, Leo. But not a bad one at all! Sure, Ky may be more popular among the public, and the press love him more, and he tends to lead things more confidently and thoroughly, but you-you....Leo? Why are you sulking?”

Sin: “Well, deal’s a deal. I beat you so now you need to go back and finish your homework young man. Now don’t frown like that, only kids do that. Tell you what, finish your work quickly, and me and Fredrick’ll treat you to a big dinner, deal?”

Ramlethel: “Excellent work Ram, you’re improving very quickly! You and Sin train hard don’t you? Just try not to overindulge on those burgers after your sessions alright? Gear Biology or no those things are bad for you.”

Elphelt: “El, sweetheart, I know you have your style and all, but is the wedding dress still necessary? A place to hid your weapons sure but doesn’t it get in the way?...was I ever like that? God I hope not..oh! Nothing it’s nothing!”

Slayer: “Every single reader is either broken or glitching on me, armor cracked to hell, engine damn near exploded, exhausted my fuel and my ammunition...and here you are, lounging like it’s a holiday...what are you exactly...?” 

Potemkin: “Well! Zepp technology is certainly...hardy! Nearly overloaded my canons on you! Took me by surprise there...”

Chipp: “You really need to stop playing this silly ninja game of yours and sit down. Politics is boring as dirt but if you call yourself a president that’s your job...*sigh* I pity your secretary, truly.”

Faust: “Sorry about that...outburst, I kind of have this thing with medical procedures and needles and...well, I’m sure you understand, Doctor.”

Jam: “God it’s been ages since I had proper Chinese food, how’s your general Tsao?...why are you giving me that dirty look? Did I say something wrong?” 

May: “You pack a wallop don’t you? I thought that anchor was a toy at first but your swinging that cast iron like it’s nothing! Maybe train with someone who can teach you how to use it more directly? Who knows what kind of damage you could do...”

Zato: “...according to my scanners you don’t have a pulse...did that vampire have something to do with it? Either way, stay away from me, no offence but that shadow of yours is creepy, and coming from me that says something.”

Millia: “There are no chains on you dear, nothing holding you down and no one holding you back. Your freedom is right there, all you have to do is reach for it with both hands.”

Venom: “...you know, you remind me of this baker in downtown Ilyria, he’s a genius with bread and sugar, honestly incredible. I hope his business is doing well, I don’t know if I could make it through the day without one of his cinnamon buns.”

Baiken: “Get up. I know this isn’t all your anger, get up! Gather more hatred and fight me! Pour every ounce of pain you have into your blade and let it out! Get up! I won’t stop until you can live again, until you can let go before you tear yourself to pieces...get. Up.”

Anji Mito: “Now. You are going to behave, sit there, and tell the truth for once. Mind you this suit has a heartbeat monitor so I’ll know if you try to pull a fast one. Now, question one, what do you know?”

I-no: “...sorry for causing you so much trouble as Jack-O, my excitement kind of got away from me. Thanks for putting up with it.”

Raven: “I never did thank you for that wound you healed, did I? Of course I remember, who forgets a friend in this day and age?” 

Extra stuff/Headcannons:

* She’s like mature Jack-O personality wise, though with a rather wry sense of humor. Pokes fun at Sol every chance she gets (only calls him Fredrick, or Freddie if she wants to troll him), but always with a hint of affection. Sometimes blanks out or has her mind wonder off.

* Worked closely with Paradigm to build the suit, though she did most of the heavy work herself. Used schematics from a few of Asuka’s old hideouts and accounts from the Crusades while adding her own spin on the design. No...crotch spike. Constantly improving it and tweaking it whenever she has the time. 

* Nags Ky like a proper mother-in-law mostly just for the sake of poking fun, she trusts him with Dizzy. Wants to make up for lost time with Dizzy, though she knows she can only go so far with her being about a decade late to be a mom.

* Treats the Valentine sisters like, well, sisters almost. Little sisters. Spoils Sin rotten whenever his parents aren’t paying attention. Had a 10 hour long training session with him after he called her “grandma” once. 

* Feels a little guilty about Japan. Doesn’t exactly blame herself entirely, but she still feels some responsibility to fix some of the damage. Baiken makes that guilt double in her gut, wants her to move on because she has a vague memory of Baiken fighting Justice and failing miserably. 

* Has an odd, vague mix of memories from both Jack-O and Justice, she can just manage to keep up and make sense of them, but both at once has her needing to sit down and clutch her head because ow migraines. Also pretty much remembers everything from before she died the first time.

* Wants to punch Asuka in the nose. Also to say she forgives him and she gets why he did what he did, but first she needs to break his nose because seriously Asuka the fuck.

* Her theme would probably be some mix between “Meet Again” (Justice theme) and “Juno” (Jack-O theme), with maybe the “Diva” riff thrown in there for flavor. Slightly manic rock mix but ultimately in control and, near the end, happy. Song title would be something like “Together Again” or “Hera” (Juno’s Greek name)