#I said I’d delete this later but now I am the fool

[linkedbytime]

🧍my hubris……..

BRO THERES 69 OF YOU EYYYYYYYY 😎

[sukirichi]

earned it [02]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, suggestive content, unedited fic

notes. err, i’m only doing this on impulse. i would like to continue it, but i think part one stands enough for itself :> i might delete this if i don’t like it a few days later lollll

series masterlist

Your infamous customer hadn’t arrived even as the restaurant closed. You watched close enough, fidgety in your movements and often bumping into other servers, all because your gaze kept darting back to the front door, awaiting his presence.

There’s no actual reason why you want to see him. Maybe it’s because he left an impression? The guy didn’t even budge after finding out someone had snuck into the kitchen to poison him, leaving you to wonder why anyone wanted to kill him. Not that it was any of your business, but you figured it was only common between powerful people who are equally greedy. Still, you’re unfocussed in your work, apologizing every now and then when your boss shook their head at you.

Thankfully, you managed to get back to your old pace. Thoughts of the white-haired tall man left the room at the same time everyone did, leaving only you and your boss in the locker room. You ended up working two shifts again on this weekend, your co-worker asking you to cover for them due to sudden family issues.

It’s tiring, that much is for sure, but you won’t complain when it’s more money down in your pocket. You’re dazzled, however, as you leave the locker room and see that your main chefs are still there.

Upon seeing you, they immediately usher you into a lone table, table 98 that remained untouched the whole night, a two lit candles illuminating the otherwise darkness of the isolated restaurant. Only this time, it’s occupied by him no less, his azure eyes flittering up to yours at the sound of your hesitant footsteps.

You’ve been looking for him the whole night, yet now that he’s in front of you, you don’t have any words to say. Instead, you bow down deep, the hands clasped in your lap shaking.

“S-Sir.”

“No need to be so nervous. I only wish to discuss something with you,” his laugh is so carefree, lighthearted as he gestures to the empty spot across him. “Take a seat,” Wordlessly, you foolow his orders and dash down to the seat, spine straight and head held high. There’s a hint of amusement in his small smile, but he doesn’t tease you, save for the lilting tone he held. “So you’re in sophomore year of university?”

“Yes, Sir. How’d you know?” You furrowed your brows, unsure of whether you’re supposed to expensive meal served in two.

Gosh, and this was on page three too, a single meal cost at least six months’ worth of rent.

“I pulled a string or two,” he lifts one shoulder lazily, waving his knife in the air. “And please, call me Satoru. Assuming we come to an understanding, things will go well for the both of us. You are in need of financial aid, yes?” You nod, utterly clueless in where this is leading, but Satoru’s already made up his mind long before he came here that he found no need in beating around the bush.

“Good. Then what do you say about being my sugar baby?”

“S-sugar baby?” you repeat the word first in confusion, then with distaste. He simply hums around the meat he’s eating, as if it’s a normal occurrence for him to inquire such things, and you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

You don’t care that this guy is your precious customer – he was just the same as everyone else.

“Is that the reason why you asked me to stay behind? Do you think you can just pay people to sleep with you? It may have worked on others, but not to me. I would rather keep my dignity than be with you,” you breathe hard after your rant, slapping your palms down on the table. The impact of it makes the table shake, his hand reflexively reaching to steady his wine glass. “As for what happened yesterday, you don’t have to thank me about it. I did what any right-minded person would.”

“And if I said I never wanted to be saved?” he asks, his tone still so calm that it further infuriates you. You stare at him, stunned and mouth gaping. “Sit down. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Thank you for graciousness, Sir, but I really don’t—”

“Angel,” You freeze at the nickname. He chuckles with his forehead pressed to his clasped hands, “Do you really think I need to pay people to sleep with me? I could have anyone I want,” his voice falls an octave or two, the sonorous warning rumbling something…alien inside your body. You stand there, unable to move, and he easily sees through this as he hides a smirk behind his drink. “Sit down. I’m not done talking to you.”

You don’t know what snapped in you to actually follow, but his words weren’t just that. They were always laced with eased dominance, the words leaving his lips coming out as a command. No, it was more like a hypnotizing order, and you’re nothing but a puppet enslaved by it.

His smile only grows bigger, and you hate that he looks ridiculously handsome under the dim lights of the room. Life would’ve been much easier if this man had been ugly.

“As I was saying, this relationship should be casual, no strings attached. I’d prefer if you’re exclusive to me, and in return, I’ll cover all your school fees and everything else. As for the sex,” he cuts his eyes straight to yours, an intense burning heat in them. You squirm in your seat, a little intimidated, albeit excited, by this proposition too, though you’d rather die than let him know that, “I don’t need that from you. I just want someone to talk to.”

“You’re paying me to talk to you?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’m saying you form a relationship with me in exchange of financial aid. You’d be similar to a lover, nothing less of a friend,” he stares at his drink so hard like he was having a debate with it. A few seconds later, he found his answer, the gleam in his eyes surreptitious as he says, “Someone I can trust.”

You huff. Surely it wasn’t easy as that. “Why me?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, “I just find you endearing, that is all,” You lean back on your seat, trying to process all this. The hesitance must be written all over your face because he adjusts his tie, sliding a white business card your way before sliding his chair back in. At least he’s well-mannered enough to do that. “You can take your time to think about it. There’s no need to rush.”

Somehow, seeing his figure retreat triggers something within you. You watch as silhouettes emerge from the darkness trail after him; must be his security team, serving as an additional note that what you so struggled to achieve was likely nothing for him.

Was it fear? Desperation? Shame?

You don’t know, you won’t ever really know, but you run up to him anyway, brave enough to tug at his sleeve. The guards surrounding him tense up at the contact, stepping away only when he raises a finger that spoke a thousand words.

“You-you’ll pay for everything?”

With his back turned to you, you failed to see that victorious grin he wore. “And everything more,” he reassured. He turns around to confirm your submission, but you’re quivering under his towering frame, poor hands clutched around the card so tightly he won’t be surprised if you break it. He chuckles, coaxing the worries out of you as he caresses your cheek, his breath evident of expensive liquor hitting your cheeks. “Relax, angel. It’s not like you’re selling your soul to the devil.”

Your pupils blow wide at the close proximity. If he was attractive before, it’s nothing compared to the clarity of his sharp, angular features that are softened by his playful smile. Oddly enough, his thumb caressing your cheeks is tender yet calloused.

There’s no telling when who put who under a spell, because you’re clutching helplessly at his suit jacket, whispering, “Am I not?”

You are, he wants to say, but you’re so innocent, so vulnerable – such an angel, he can’t help but hum in his head – that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know. He already knew things were bound to fall out of place one another, but until that hasn’t happened yet, he’ll have to keep you close. He’ll make you his.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he declares so confidently that you couldn’t even question his capability to do so you, and for a moment, just a moment, your knees weaken under his stare. “Now that, I can promise.”

Should you have pulled away then? When he leaned down to seal the contract with a kiss, should you have pulled away then? Or better yet, could you even pull away then?

You’ve been so alone your whole life that each moment with him is awakening, soul-crushing, mind-shattering and so damn weakening that you should’ve pulled away then. If anyone were to tell you you’d share your first kiss after work hours with a man whose name you don’t even know of, you’d tell them they were crazy, crazier if they claimed you would enjoy it.

But you did. Oh, you did, you were addicted to him – his taste, his scent, his touch, everything about him – that when he pulled away, taking away every last breath in your lung that formerly remained taint-free by him, you’re left wanting. Craving.

And he knows this. How could he not? Your eyes are hazy with lust, chest pressed against his firm ones that would soon be the same body you found home over and over again.  You’re not the only left intoxicated from this sudden agreement. Whatever you feel, he feels it twice as much after years of watching you from the sidelines, asking himself a million times over what it is about you that pulled him in so much in the first place.

The innocence? The dedication? The youthful naivety?

Gojo wants to laugh at himself. It was never any of those – he simply wanted to fool himself that maybe he’s worthy of this, of your love, of your purity. He’s selfish, manipulative, heartless, and he wants nothing more than someone like you to make him feel like he’s everything he’s not.

He steps forward to brush his nose against yours; breathing in the tiny gasps you reward him with. And he’s barely even touched you.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he rasps, butterfly touches all the way down your back to hold you flush against him, letting you feel that he’s all muscle and hardness, while you’re the complete opposite, composed of softness and little ghosting kisses. Perhaps when he gives you by a name, he was right to call you –  “My Angel.”

The loud blaring of your alarm cuts through the silence of the room, its shrill sound piercing your ears. You groan, blindly patting the bedside table to swipe snooze. The spot next to you has been cold for a while now, but it’s normal for Satoru to leave early for work that you burrow yourself deeper in the covers. Five more minutes of sleep shouldn’t be so bad; it’s the weekend, anyway. You’ve got nothing else to do.

Waking up after that, on the other hand, now that is an impending task on itself.

You’re beyond sore, your inner thighs littered with handprints and your shoulder covered in love bites. “Jeez,” you mutter to yourself, stepping out of the bathroom. Tying your robe around you, you go out your shared bedroom, rubbing your eyes to get the sleep out.

It’s past noon already – Satoru really wore you out. And fuck, you could barely walk. You had to grip the counters just to sit on the stools, and even then, you’re wincing from the pain.

He should be doing paperwork in his office right now or something; he never really told you what to do. You don’t feel like asking either since he’s made it clear he prefers to keep his personal life, well…personal. But nevertheless, you swing your legs back and forth on the stool, texting him a quick I love you baby :)

Satoru doesn’t reply.

Usually, he’d respond in a few minutes, always supplied with a wink and an eggplant emoji. It was so him to act this way, that when those few minutes turned into a few hours and you’re met with radio silence, you can’t help but worry.

You try to brush it off, ignoring the deafening silence that rings all over his penthouse. He’s busy, he’s working, he’s got things to do – that’s all it is.

You convince yourself hard enough that you’ve cleaned the place until it’s sparkling, your reflection bouncing off the black marble floors. Every minute, though, your mind would race back to him. Not thinking about him proved to be a really daunting task because you think of him when you’re eating, reminiscing the way he’d always surprise you with a back hug, muttering morning angel all over your skin just to distract you from your meal. You think of him as you’re killing time with boring dramas; if he was here, he’d nudge your leg with his foot, pushing your shorts until it exposes your panties. He’d make sure you don’t get to focus at all, riling you up and kissing you hard that the show playing becomes nothing but background noise. You think of him, you dream of him, you remember him – and yet, you can’t feel him.

Nails bitten down to the skin, you scramble for your phone, swiping call over his contact. It doesn’t go through. Now that’s another odd thing; Satoru never fails to pick up your calls.

“He’s just busy,” you lie to yourself, telling the same thing over and over again even as night falls and you’re staring at the empty left side of the bed, hands smoothing over where the curve of his body would’ve been. “He’s just busy,” you say once more, giving into the exhaustion brought on by your worries. “He’ll come home soon. He always will.”

Except he didn’t.

And that was two weeks ago.

“Angel, I got you—” Satoru immediately clamps his shut, his footsteps muted as he walks closer to you. You’ve been dating for a few months now, and you’re still very wary of the nature of your relationship so you refuse to move in with him. He doesn’t mind, he respects your space and decisions, but now he’s starting to regret letting you have your way. You’re hunched over your swiveling chair, cheek pressed against the opened textbook and glasses perched on your hair. The lamp desk illuminates the dark circles lining your eyes, his heart breaking at the sight.

Thanks to his help, you’ve been able to spend more time focusing on your studies. It should be comforting, but Satoru’s heart aches as he thinks of what you’ve been like prior to meeting him.

How long have you stayed up all night just to pass your exams? How long have you cried yourself to sleep, unable to handle the burden placed by the world on your shoulders at such a young age? How long have you had to turn down friends’ invites to parties with a forced smile because you had to go to work? How many times have you stared at a failing mark, teeth clenched because you studied well for it; your exhaustion just got the best of you and muddled your brain?

Satoru places the beer and dinner he’s got you on his way back home on top of your one-man dining table, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. You look so beautiful this way – unaware, unknowing, and focused in nothing but the future ahead of you that you don’t bother yourself with his past.

Perhaps…it was comforting, after all.

He’d rather have you worry over your own studies than worry about him. Satoru can’t stomach the idea of you – his precious angel – being involved in his own shit, possibly get caught between the crossfire. It pains him to say it, but he doesn’t want you getting too close for comfort.

So he stays there by your side, simply because it would expel all ideas of you wanting to be beside him. He’ll be right where you’re safe, and the sigh that leaves your lips when he moves you to your bed, fitting in his long, lanky bed on your cramped mattress an immense struggle. As if feeling that you’re finally home, you snuggle closer to his chest, murmuring sweet nothings that tug at his heartstrings.

Satoru rubs circles at your back, staring so hard at the chipped paint on your wall that he’s sure he’s got it burned in his memory.

Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve been satisfied with that. He should’ve held back in his desire to have more of you. He should’ve just tucked you in and left, but he was never really in control of himself. Before he knew it, he’s pulled in by you too much, encouraging him to move in with you under the lie it’s easier to keep an eye on you.

Had he just left you earlier…would things have been different then?

He’s asked himself this question too many times. Satoru always came to one conclusion. He loved you way too much that it consumed him, and soon the love he held for you slowly burned you inch by inch. The only way to save you was to pull away – but he wasn’t ready for that yet, not now – but he’s too scared, too deep in love that he ignores the warning signals and holds you close instead, finding comfort in the warmth of your arms.

Fuck. Satoru downs his second drink, glaring at everyone beneath his shades. Geto snickers beside him, sending side eyes to his boss every now and then just to check. Of course, Satoru’s not actually going to pass out, he was no lightweight, but he’d been uneasy every since that pretentious gold envelope landed on his desk.

One of the downsides of being a mafia leader meant you had to mingle with other clan shit, including him of all people. There were always new leaders popping out of nowhere, Satoru quote unquoting, criminals be spawning like maniacs.

For fourteen years – fourteen fucking years – his clan had been in bad blood with the Zen’ins. They were pretty new in the illegal side of business, starting off as a powerful name in the trade industry before they got interested in oil. One thing led to another, the family began to realize they could have so much more if they turned a blind eye to a law or to, soon shifting into illegal weaponry trade, human trafficking, then drug manufacturing.

These bastards had the audacity to insult the Gojo Clan when Satoru’s family dropped by to strike a contract out of curiosity to their goods, only to be turned down because they’re ‘barbaric’ and ‘informal.’

Satoru still remembers that humiliating moment of being escorted out by bodyguards, but he held his head high, vowing to show that bastard Zen’in guy that the Gojo’s were one of the powerhouses for a reason. He doesn’t even know where the elderly guy got his confidence from. Mafia business was not the same as their former expertise, yet they acted all high and mighty with their rules and standard of being sophisticated even in a life or death situation.

Gojo doesn’t know whether he should be happy or sad that the old man died, his son taking over just as soon as his father perished. He would’ve celebrated with a whiskey or two, except the new clan leader was quite adamant in cleaning up their name to prove he would not create the same mistake his father did.

The new leader threw a large cruise party, inviting pretty much everyone they were chummy with, and Satoru has never felt more out of place. He recognized a face or two, but he couldn’t really give a fuck. He hated events like this – it was all about establishing power and face.

Satoru groaned under his breath, swiping at another flute as a waiter passed by. He felt the bubbles fizzle down his throat, the slight burning sensation somewhat easing his nerves.

He leans back at the wall and checks his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. It’s been two fucking hours since they arrived, and the host still hadn’t arrived. If they planned on being ‘fashionably late’ Satoru won’t hesitate to slice someone’s neck tonight. He hates his time being wasted the most, and his eyes slid over to his friend’s still posture, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“Suguru,” he sighs through his mouth, “Don’t be so tense. This is a formal event – no blood will be shed tonight.” Suguru had a weird skill of being able to read Satoru’s thoughts that he raised his hands in surrender, silently promising that he’s not going to kill anyone.

“You’re not sure of that.”

“I won’t lose my composure, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he rolls his eyes, not looking back as he effortlessly places the empty glass back to another waiter. Satoru stands next to his friend, sucking his teeth out of boredom. Suguru, on the other hand, is tenser than ever, his eyes locked onto something in the middle of the crowd that began to cheer.

Faintly, somewhere at the back of his mind, Satoru hears someone whistle in signal. A few seconds later, the fireworks are lit and decorate the night sky, bursts of gold and beauty accompanying the entrance of the woman who’s so effortlessly caught everyone’s eye tonight.

Satoru is rooted to his spot, taking off his glasses the same time the crowd parts. Then, his breath is knocked away from his body, his heart pumping so hard he actually struggled to breathe.

Because you’re there, smiling and waving at the crowd as if it’s second nature to you. Seven years of being apart from one another and Satoru is still bewitched each time he lays his eyes on you. You’re the same…from your face down to the angelic feeling you always carried, but at the same time, you’re different. Gone was his precious angel who shied away from too much attention, his precious angel who would’ve never worn such a bodacious ring embedded on her left ring finger. Your smile is more charismatic, confident, and even fierce compared to the small, private ones you always shared with him – he almost couldn’t recognize you.

As if feeling someone’s eyes on you, you spot him leaning languidly against the walls, those lips you used to kiss turned downwards.

Seven years ago, you would’ve kissed him until he smiles again, singing to your pouty and clingy boyfriend who never voiced out the reason of his troubles. Seven years ago, he would’ve carried you and swung you around, showering you with affection as he reminds you how lucky he is to have you.

But this was no longer the past – that much is clear from when he left you without another word.

Still, you smile at him, an empty one that showed nothing but concealed anger. He was sure though, so fucking sure, that for a split second, he saw you light up. That may have been seven years ago, but you loved each other to the point of insanity – surely you still held some sort of fondness of him.

Satoru takes long, self-assured stride towards you, his gaze never leaving yours with his hands tucked into his pockets. There’s no telling what he’ll do, but in his mind, it’s clear.

You still love him, he still loves you. He’ll do something about it. It doesn’t matter what, he just will. That was until a young man closer to your age with blond hair and pierced earrings, narrow feline eyes lined with eyeliner hobbles beside you, his weight supported by a cane that Satoru stops in his movements.

He’d recognize that face anywhere.

The youngest and perhaps most mischievous leader of them all, Naoya Zen’in. Albeit not as hard-headed as his father in comparison with his rather laid-back and welcoming nature, Satoru knows a monster when he sees it. It takes one to know one, after all, and despite the heir being crippled from a former accident, his intelligence and power was not to be overlooked through his appearance and coy smiles.

In fact, he might even be more dangerous than his old man, this theory only proven when his arms snake around your waist. The matching rings gleam from under the light, and you press yourself closer to him to whisper in his ear, your attention very much still on Satoru.

Satoru’s entire body burns.

“Still there, Sir?” Suguru asks, gripping his boss’ bicep to hold him back. Smart of him, Satoru exhales through his nose, unable to stop his glare from darting to your husband’s.

He’s heard of you, of him, of how his most annoying rival had a phenomenal trophy wife who looked harmless at first look, but was actually the brains of most of his operations. Satoru forgets how to breathe normally because he’s heard of you, and the rumors he’s gotten wind of about Naoya’s trophy wife are nothing less of how dedicated and perfect the two of you are.

Slapping Suguru’s arm away from him, Satoru grits his teeth. “Get me a drink.”

His precious angel was gone. No, this woman that stood before him…you were an entirely different entity, something darker, something along the lines that were more like him.

What exactly happened the day he left you?

taglist: @ladywaifuuwrites​ @savantsoulfinder​ @my-reality-is-in-my-head​ tagging the ones who asked for part 2, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[amazingmsme]

Well if You Really Don’t Like Him...

AN: Here’s that fic about Godot flirting with Phoenix just to get at Edgeworth. This was seriously SO much fun to write! Ugh I love all these dorky ass lawyers, I need more content. So here you go, have some jealous Edgeworth, flustered Wright, & a very flirty Godot, all served to you on a silver platter!

Godot sat in the prosecutions office, reading over some old case transcripts. Detective Gumshoe was mulling about the room, browsing some of the books on the shelf. Godot snickered to himself, drawing Dick's attention.

"Something funny Prosecutor?" he asked with a curious smile. It was rare that he heard the other man laugh, so it warmed his heart to hear the sound.

"Yeah, actually. I can't help but notice... Is something going on between Edgeworth and Trite?" he asked, holding a page closer as he inspected the words. "I mean, it's hard to pick up a person's tone just from text, but I can't imagine another way to interpret this," he mused.

"Who? Oh you mean Wright! Yeah, we've all been wondering the same thing. He and Prosecutor Edgeworth have more chemistry than a chemical reaction!"

Godot smiled and shook his head. "Your analogy is weaker than decaf, but your point still stands."

"Hey!" Gumshoe shouted defensively, pouting at the other man's words.

"So I'm not crazy? Do they actually like each other? Because I can't possibly find any other meaning behind, "Court is no place for such fanciful stories. But if you drop by my office, I'd be more than willing to... indulge you?" Did Miles actually say this shit?" he asked, barely containing his laughter. One hand pressed against his forehead, fingers curling in the white locks as his shoulders shook with his chuckles.

"Heh, yeah I remember that. Poor Nick blushed redder than a ripe tomato!" he exclaimed, smiling at the memory.

"Hm, so Trite embarrasses easily? That's interesting," he hummed.

Detective Gumshoe shrugged. "Yeah, but he seems to get flustered a lot more when Edgeworth's involved," he explained. He found the book he'd been searching for, and bid him ado with a nod and quick wave. Diego was left pondering the new information, a sly smirk forming on his face.

The next day he strode into Edgeworth's office with even more swagger than usual. He sat on the corner of his desk, crossing one leg over the other. He slurped his coffee loudly to gain the other's attention. Miles sighed and glanced up at him.

"May I help you?"

"Who me? Nah, I just came in here to chat," he said, but the grin on his face told of an underlying motive.

"Please, you of all people are the last to want to chat while working. What's really going on?" he asked, cutting to the chase. Godot shrugged.

"A little birdie told me you might have feelings for Trite."

Miles stiffened, but other than that showed no outward emotions. "His name is Wright, and that's preposterous. I merely admire his skill in court and respect him as a peer. You would be wise to do the same."

"Really? 'Cause Dick sure thinks there's something more to it," Diego said. Edgeworth snorted out a puff of air in lieu of a laugh.

"And you believed him? Gumshoe is a well intentioned man, but he can let his imagination get the better of him."

"Transcripts don't lie bud. And I can smell the truth like a fresh pot of coffee." Miles rolled his eyes.

"Of course you can," he said sarcastically. "Now if you're done reciting your little fairytales, I'd love to get back to work," he said, opening a thick binder and smacking Godot's leg with the front half as he opened it. He stood, getting the hint.

"You know, that reminds me of something you said to Trite in court," he spoke as he began to pace the room. He piqued his interest, so he continued. "Something about fanciful stories, and him stopping by your office to "indulge" you," he said using air quotes.

Miles abruptly stood, slamming his hand on the desk. "That's out of context!"

Godot shrugged, swirling the coffee in his cup. "Trust me, the context doesn't make it sound any better. I'm surprised the two of you ever manage to reach a verdict, what with all the flirting going on."

"It's not flirting! It's merely playful bickering between childhood friends, nothing more," he reasoned.

"Is that what you call it?" he asked, cocking his head to the side and stuffing his free hand in his pocket. Edgeworth practically growled at him, shooting a harsh glare his way.

"What exactly are getting at Godot?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"So you really don't like Trite?"

"For the last time, his name is Phoenix Wright. The fact that you don't refer to him as such is wildly immature and petty."

Godot smirked in triumph. "You sure are defensive of him."

"Of course I am; he's my friend and a talented attorney who, might I remind you, proved my innocence and convicted my father's true murderer. So I won't stand idly by while you blatantly disrespect him," he snapped. He turned his back to him, busying himself with straightening stacks of paperwork.

"You misinterpret my intentions," he said, holding up his hand placatingly. Edgeworth looked over his shoulder, watching as he sipped his coffee.

"Then enlighten me."

"I admit I've been giving him a hard time. But most guys do that when they have a crush," he bluffed. Miles whipped around to face him.

"Ha! You're lying through your teeth, I know how much you despise him," he said, seeing right through the lie.

"Do you? Or was that just a front I put up to hide my feelings?" Edgeworth paused, considering the possibility.

"I don't know what your angle is, but you should stop while you're ahead. If you're only doing this to get at me, then I'm telling you right now it will all be in vein. But please, don't bring Phoenix into this if it's only a farce. He's had his heart broken before, and I won't allow you to needlessly toy with his emotions."

"Aw, how noble. Truly a knight in shining armor. But if you aren't in love with him, why should you care?"

Edgeworth recoiled, a pink tint coloring his cheeks at the L-word. "B-because he's my friend!"

Godot smiled softly, staring at his reflection in the dark liquid inside his cup. "I wondered what had happened to the hard ass prosecutor I knew. What made you go soft. But then I met Mr. Wright," he said, complying with his wishes and using his actual name.

"Don't act like I was someone to admire. I had lost myself and forgot what justice really meant. He merely opened my eyes," he explained.

"Now that's sounds like a love confession if I've ever heard one. You two go together like coffee and cream: he sweetened the dark bitterness you're known for and made you more palatable."

Edgeworth straightened to his full height, hair falling in front of his face. "Excuse me? I refuse to be insulted in my own office!"

"Well that was hardly an insult."

"You just called me bitter an insinuated that I was intolerable," he deadpanned.

"Heh, I did, didn't I? Well I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever. I request that you leave my office so that I may get back to work," he said, sitting back down at his desk.

Godot snorted in amusement. "That's the kindest way I've ever been told to get the hell out."

"Now."

"Alright, alright." He turned to leave, but paused at the door. Miles sighed deeply.

"What now?"

"If you really don't like him, then you shouldn't mind if I flirt with him, right?" he asked smugly. Edgeworth's head snapped up with a gasp. He made to stand, a protest already on the tip of his tongue, but Diego shut the door before he could say anything.

Miles was left in his office, seething with a quiet rage. He couldn't go after him, that would only prove his point. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled out his phone and texted Franziska.

be mean to Godot

A few minutes later, his phone dinged with her reply.

lol ok. Why?

because we're mad at him >:(

what did that fool do now?

He thought about his answer carefully before sending it.

he's going to break Wright's heart

No, he couldn't send that.

he accused me of being in love with Wright

He shook his head, deleting the message and starting over.

nothing. Just let him know you're angry

haha got it. I'll whip his mask clean off his face! >:)

He chuckled softly at his sister's antics.

maybe not that mean

By the next day, Miles had mostly forgotten about his conversation with Godot. That was until he walked into the courthouse and was greeted by his stupid smug face.

"There you are Edgey boy!" he greeted enthusiastically, coffee sloshing in its mug.

"Don't call me that."

"Right, only Phoenix can call you that," he teased. Miles allowed a smirk to grace his features.

"Or Larry. He was the one who came up with the nickname after all." Godot hummed as he walked beside him. For a moment, the only sound was their shoes clacking in unison on the linoleum tiles. Then they spotted Phoenix and Maya come out of a debriefing room. Miles shot Godot a glare.

"Don't you dare," he threatened.

"Oh I dare," he said, trotting away and over to his target. Phoenix spotted him coming his way and quickly turned around, grabbing Maya's arm and speed walking away. He kept his head down and eyes focused on the ground. Maya let out a small "ope" sound as he dragged her along. She looked over her shoulder to see what made Nick turn so abruptly down the hall.

"Uuuh Nick? Godot's jogging right towards us," she whispered.

"I know," he said, keeping his voice down.

"Well what did you do?" she asked before plastering on a wide smile to hide her confusion when the man approached suddenly. "Heeeey!" she waved, coming off as overly friendly in an attempt to hide the fact they were just talking about him.

"Hey Trite, whatcha been up to?" he asked, sidling up next to him. He slung his arm around his shoulders and pressed into his side. Phoenix made a small noise of shock, body going rigid.

"Umm, I was in a briefing," he said, casting a glance towards Maya. She merely shrugged.

"That's nice. So what's this case about?" he asked, letting genuine curiosity seep into his voice. Edgeworth was grumbling to himself as he stormed after him. He needed to intervene somehow.

Phoenix was slightly taken aback by the question. "Oh! It's nothing too exciting, just an assault charge."

Godot clicked his tongue, tipping his mug in his direction. "That's a real shame, your best work is on murder cases."

Wright blinked in surprise. "Really?" he asked skeptically. "I thought you said that I was a sloppy rookie who didn't deserve to be where I am today," he sassed, crossing his arms and looking him up and down.

He winced slightly, hearing his own words said back to him. He needed to try to smooth this over to seem sincere.

"Oooooo," Maya said in typical childish fashion, like when another student is called to the principal's office. She shut herself up when Godot shot her a look. A small, guilty smile was still on her face however.

Edgeworth had been able to hear most of the conversation and was eager to hear the prosecutor dig himself out of that one.

"My opinion of you is starting to change amigo," he said smoothly, taking a sip. Phoenix's eyes widened in surprise.

"I'm truly shocked to hear you admit that you've changed your mind," Miles spoke snidely. He purposefully stood closer to Phoenix, subtly separating the two. Godot noticed and smirked.

"What can I say? It's called growing as a person," he snarked back. Godot reached out and grabbed Edgeworth by the shoulder, then had the gall to shove him out of the way. He leaned into Wright's personal space, posture lax with one hand in his pocket. Phoenix had a nervous grin on his face, cheeks growing pink.

"Aaah I'm- glad for the personal development," he said, arching his back a bit to lean away. He gave a quick and confused glance towards Miles, as if to say "what the hell's going on?"

"Didn't anyone ever teach you about personal space? I'm sure he would prefer not to have to smell your coffee breath," he scolded, and this time it was Godot's turn to blush from embarrassment.

Maya snorted and giggled softly, and Phoenix had to plaster his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. His cheeks were puffed up with air as he struggled not to chuckle along. The sight was utterly adorable, and Miles felt pride in the fact that he made him laugh.

Godot's lip twitched in an angry sneer as he straightened his tie. "For your information, my breath is perfectly fine. I make sure to always have gum on me," he explained. Maya and Phoenix shared a look somewhere between amusement and annoyance at their exchange.

Godot looked over at Phoenix and flashed his most dazzling smile. "After all, you never know when you'll need fresh breath."

He let out a quiet gasp, eyes shifting down to his mouth for a split second. Godot pulled out his pack of gum, flicking it open with his thumb. "Care for a piece?"

"Oh! I-um- sure," he stuttered, reaching out and taking one.

"Sweet! Can I have some?" Maya asked, batting her eyes. Godot looked down at her, deflating slightly as he remembered she was there. "Oh, yeah I guess," his voice didn't have near the same tone as when he was addressing Phoenix. She either didn't notice or didn't care, snatching two pieces of gum. She offered one to Edgeworth, which he accepted with a soft smile.

"Thank you Maya. I think I'll save mine for later. Like you said, I never know when I'll need a fresh mouth," he said, looking at Phoenix as he finished the sentence.

He smiled and looked down at the floor as his cheeks got redder.

Maya didn't know what was going on exactly, but she could definitely sense the awkward tension between Edgeworth and Godot. And it was clear that Phoenix was caught in the middle of their exchange.

"Um, I'm just gonna pick Pearl up from the play room," she excused herself, heading to the courthouse's daycare.

"Oh good. Maybe Edgey would like to go with you," he volunteered the other to leave. Phoenix quirked a brow hearing the nickname leave Godot's mouth. "Since when did you start calling him that?" He only received a shrug and a crooked grin in return.

"No offense Maya but I would not. Wright and I have plans for lunch," he bluffed, making said plans up on the spot.

"We do?" Phoenix asked, brows furrowing. Then his eyes widened as he caught on. "Oh yeah we do!" He stood next to Edgeworth, his shoulders releasing visible tension as he did so.

"Oh really? Where are you eating?"

They responded in unison, but with different answers.

"Jack's Burger Shack."

"Sashimi Temple."

Godot smirked, catching them in their lie. "Well? Which is it?"

"We haven't decided," Wright said, looking at Miles for "confirmation."

"Right. I'm good with whatever you want," he said, smiling at Phoenix.

"How can you tell when he's agreeing with you and when he's just saying your name?" Godot teased. He couldn't help but giggle at the question.

"Heh, I don't know, I guess I've just learned how to tell the difference," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a half smile on his face and eyes squinted shut. Godot couldn't help but notice the strain on the fabric of his suit as he stretched his arm.

"Whoa, you been workin' out Trite?" he asked and before he could answer, he reached out and squeezed his bicep. His face flushed at the contact.

"Oh y-yeah, you noticed? Glad to see it's starting to pay off," he said, admiring his own arms. He flexed again, striking a new pose.

"Mind if I start calling you espresso? 'Cause you sure can pack a punch," Godot all but purred. Edgeworth couldn't believe that Phoenix was falling victim to his sleazy charm. Who was he kidding, if someone as attractive as Godot hit on him, he'd cave just as quickly. He had to refrain from sneering.

"Ha! If you want I guess you could. But don't start calling me short," he said pointedly, but with just enough playfulness to still be considered flirty. Miles's eyes were still transfixed on Wright's admittedly large biceps. Godot saw the opening and took the shot.

He snapped his fingers right in his face to gain his attention. H blinked and flinched, attention drawn to his smug face. "Earth to Edgeworth. You copy?" He scoffed and shoved the hand out of his face. Phoenix nudged him gently.

"If you wanted to feel them too you could've just said so," he teased.

"That's not-" but his denial died on his tongue when he was met with both of their knowing looks. He turned his head away but still reached out to feel his arm. There was no way he was passing up that opportunity.

"Hard as a rock, huh?" Phoenix asked and yes, he was totally fishing for compliments.

"I was going to say like sculpted marble," he said smoothly. Miles couldn't let Godot be the only one flirting with him. Said man only smirked wider, seeing as he was proven right. Regardless what Edgeworth said after this, it would be undeniable that he had feelings for the defense attorney.

"So, you got room for one more or are you dining at a table for two?" he questioned, subtly inviting himself. Edgeworth was ready to shoot down the request, but Wright beat him to it.

"Uh, sure you can join." Curse his kind nature.

"Sweet. Not as sweet as you, coffee creamer," he let his voice drop an octave, flashing another dazzling smile. Phoenix giggled and hid his face in one hand.

"Oho man, that was like, really stupid."

"Made you laugh, didn't I?" he teased, propping his elbow on his shoulder as they walked. Miles walked behind them and watched the prosecutor like a hawk, gritting his teeth all the while. He was relieved when they got to the parking lot.

"Wright, would you be a dear and ride with me? I'd like your opinion on this case I'm working on," he requested. He immediately perked up and walked over, leaving Diego's side.

"Sure, I'd love to! It'll be nice to give my legs a break from all the pedaling," he joked, walking over to his car and pulled the door handle. When it didn't open he frowned and tried again. And again. He kept pulling, making the annoying clicking noise each time it failed to open the door. "Miiiiiles," he whined.

He shook his head with a fond smile, chuckling softly. He unlocked the car just as Phoenix tugged again. He wasn't expecting that and stumbled a few steps backwards. Godot, never one to miss an opportunity, purposefully knocked his foot out from under him, just so he could catch him in a dip.

Edgeworth gasped as he saw him fall, clenching his fist as he watched Godot swiftly catch him like some kind of techno prince charming. Phoenix let out a small yelp as he fell, gripping onto his vest as he was caught.

His mouth was slightly agape as he stared up at Godot. He wore a sly yet heart-melting grin. Phoenix stuttered out a quiet thank you.

"It was no problem. Be sure to watch your footing next time though," he said, clicking his tongue. The ace attorney felt his heartbeat quicken and butterflies fluttered inside his stomach. Edgeworth's eye twitched in anger and he cleared his throat.

"If my eyes serve me well, which they do, it was you who tripped him," Miles called him out. Godot shrugged guiltily and helped steady him on his feet.

"What can I say? It was just too tempting, just like how you look in that suit," he went on to compliment him. Phoenix's eyes widen, cheeks flushed. He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"M-me?" Godot nodded.

"Mhmm. It really brings out your eyes. Not to mention how nicely tailored it is." He bit his lip, looking him up and down. "You're about as enticing as a hot steaming cub o' joe," he flirted, laying it on thick. Wright's face turned beat red and he looked at the ground, flattered giggles leaving his lips. He tugged on the collar of his shirt. Edgeworth was by his side in an instant, ushering him closer to the car.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" he taunted.

"Jack's Burgers," he practically growled, walking around the front of his car. He plopped in the driver's seat as Phoenix closed his door, waving at Godot as they drove off.

Edgeworth's jaw was set and he gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. Phoenix placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and he relaxed slightly.

"Miles what's wrong? You've been in a bad mood since I've seen you. Is it the case? Is that why you've been so grumpy?" he asked, concern clearly written on his face.

He sighed deeply. He should probably be honest with him- or rather halfway honest. He couldn't possibly tell him the whole truth.

"Actually I lied about that. I simply wanted to get away from him." Phoenix snorted in amusement.

"What's this? The great Miles Edgeworth lying? This must be serious," he chuckled, bumping their shoulders together.

He seemed to relax now that it was just the two of them. "He was really starting to get on my nerves."

"Yeah I noticed. He seemed to be in a lot better mood today, especially towards me. I don't know, but I can't help but think he's after something," he pondered aloud. Miles glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"He's a top prosecutor, he's always after something."

"You're not," Phoenix said gently. Edgeworth took a breath to steady himself.

"How do you know we're not after the same thing?" They reached a red light and he turned to look at him.

"I'd ask what it is, but I have a feeling you won't tell me," he smirked.

"You're right, as usual."

"Well it is my name after all," he joked. Miles chuckled and shook his head.

"That was awful. Why did I laugh?"

"Because you love me," he teased. Oh if only he knew how accurate that statement was.

"Heh, I suppose I do somewhat."

"Nah you adore me. Admit it, I'm your favorite person," he goaded, leaning into his personal space. He even went as far as to lay his head on his shoulder.

"You're tied with Franziska," he admits.

"Wow, that's high praise." He hummed in agreement.

When they arrived at the diner, Godot was already waiting for them. Miles rolled his eyes as  he spotted him leaning against the wall near the entrance. And where the hell did he find a toothpick? One leg was propped against the brick, arms folded across his chest and fuck he looked cool. If Edgeworth were a lesser man, he'd want to slap him.

"There you are! For a hot second there I thought you might've changed your mind and tried to ditch me," he taunted.

Miles wore a bored expression. "Don't tempt me."

"Hey, what happened to the Edgeworth that was in the car? All relaxed and smiley?" Phoenix asked, even poking his cheek to try and break the stern facade. He couldn't help but grin at the playful gesture.

"Ah, probably 'cause I'm here," Godot waved him off.

"Yes, that's precisely it," he answered with a rude smirk. Phoenix gasped.

"Miles!" he scolded.

"No no, it's completely my fault. I barged into his office and gave him a rude awakening of sorts. Please, allow me to make it up to you. Edgey."

He scoffed and Godot wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. "Lunch, my treat." When Miles turned to look at him, they were practically nose to nose. And Godot was so smug, it was infuriatingly amusing. He cracked a smile and shook his head.

"I'd be a fool to pass up a free lunch."

"Atta boy!" he cheered, pulling Phoenix closer in the same manner.

They were seated at a booth in a corner. Godot motioned with a bow for Phoenix to sit first. He chuckled and slid into the seat. Before Miles could make it to the seat next to him, Godot sat down in the empty spot in one fluid movement. He shot Edgeworth a victorious smirk.

Wright picked up on the tension, drumming a rhythm on the table and whistling quietly. He tried to make small talk.

"Sooo Godot. Saying you like coffee would be an understatement. I'm curious, if you could make your own coffee, what would you call it?"

He perked up at the question, scratching the stubble on his chin. "I couldn't just make one coffee, I'd have a whole brand. It would be an assortment of the darkest roasts and combination blends out there. I think our signature brew would be called Laser Beans. Ya get it? Like laser beams but it's coffee beans," he rambled on about his imaginary coffee business.

"Please, you do not have to explain the elementary concept of your pun," Miles quipped. Just for that, Godot scooted closer to Wright.

"Another popular blend: number 162, the Phoenix. Strong and sweet, with an unexpected fiery kick that rises from the grounds. Just what you need on those long, rough days." Phoenix gulped, staring at the red lines of his mask. Godot cocked his head, looking over at a furious Edgeworth.

"Wouldn't you agree Miles?"

"Yes- I mean no- I mean- I'm not much of a coffee person," he fumbled over his words. He jerked his head to the side, focusing on a crack in the wall.

"I think he's just too embarrassed to admit it," he whispered loudly, making eye contact with Miles as he said it.

"Heh, yeah you got him good with that one," Phoenix agreed.

"Ngh- who's side are you on anyways?" he asked defensively.

"My side," he said, clearly proud of himself. Miles softened at those words, unable to stay annoyed at him.

"Of course you are."

The waiter came and took their drink orders before leaving them be.

"I'm surprised you got water. I was expecting coffee," Phoenix mused.

"It's important to stay adequately hydrated," he explained, browsing through the menu.

"With how much you drink it, I would've thought you'd drop dead asleep without it," Edgeworth teased, looking at his own menu.

"Nah, I could drink eight cups and go to sleep right after. I'm used to the caffeine," he said casually.

"Wait, then what do you do when you need to stay up? Drink a whole pot?" Phoenix asked, bumping their shoulders together. He turned to him with his most charming smile.

"Well, instead of coffee keeping me awake, I could just have you," he said in a sultry voice. Phoenix flushed a dark crimson with an embarrassed, lopsided grin on his face as his eyes shifted between Godot and Miles. He was rendered speechless, the only sound he was able to make was a drawn out "uuh."

Godot grunted in pain when Edgeworth swiftly kicked his shin.

"Quite forward, aren't we?" he growled.

"You know I am," he said, snapping his fingers at him.

"And has your vulgar cockiness ever gotten you far?" he countered.

"Sure it does. I always make it to home base," he teased. Miles was relieved when the waiter came to set their drinks down, disrupting the conversation. They asked if they were ready to order yet, but Godot had spent so much time flirting with Phoenix, that he'd barely looked at the menu. And Miles was so busy keeping him in line that he didn't know what to order either. So they asked for a few extra minutes.

"You should really consider using your time wisely," Edgeworth advised. Godot snorted and mumbled something about him doing the same.

"I think I'm gonna have the Jack classic, what about you?" Phoenix asked, looking across the table at Miles.

"I think I'll have the same," he said, offering a warm smile.

Godot's smirk grew. "I'm leaning more towards the thhhick patty," he said, drawing out the word. Phoenix arched a brow and chuckled.

"You really put a lot of emphasis on the word thick there," he teased.

"What can I say? I like a lot of meat on my buns," he leaned closer, placing a hand on Wright's knee and squeezed gently. Phoenix giggled and scooted away in the seat.

"Hey, watch it. I'm ticklish," he admitted. Godot grinned like a shark.

"Oh Trite, don't you know that's not something you admit?" he teased, repeating the motion. Phoenix barked out a laugh, pushing the hand away playfully. Miles was glaring daggers at them and grit his teeth. He was the picture of jealousy.

When Wright moved his hand away, Godot purposefully interlocked their fingers so that they were holding hands. Edgeworth let out an angry huff and held the menu up to block his view. Or maybe to prevent them from seeing the sneer on his face. The world is cruel however, and Godot is even crueler. Which is exactly why he grabbed the top of the menu and pulled it down to meet his eyes directly.

"Thought you said you knew what to order. Why're you hiding from us?" he asked, elbows propped on the table as he leaned forward.

"I... I'm not! I simply thought I saw someone I don't particularly like and didn't want them to see me. But looking at them now I realize my mistake," he easily lied.

"Yeah, you and I have made a lot of enemies," Godot agreed. He looked between Wright and Edgeworth. "At first I thought you two were. But now that I've gotten to know you both a little more, I realize that couldn't be farther from the truth." As much as he loved riling Miles up, his ultimate goal was to make him admit his feelings for the other.

They both flushed a pale pink, looking away. After the waiter took their orders, Phoenix excused himself to the bathroom. Godot was smiling smugly as he watched him leave.

"It's times like these that I'm grateful for my visor. It would be a real shame if I wasn't able to watch that ass leave, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, looking at him with a shit eating grin. Miles slammed a fist on the table in anger.

He spoke low so as to not cause a scene, but his jaw was still clenched. "I order you to stop this at once."

"What, the flirting? You said you didn't like him, so why should it bother you?" he asked innocently.

"You speak out of your ass, you use crude and childish humor, you're completely insincere, your pick up lines are cheesy and all coffee related, and you're invading his personal space constantly!" he scolded quietly. Godot shrugged.

"He sure doesn't seem to mind. Maybe he likes the attention. People tend to enjoy my company," he bragged.

"You have no intentions other than making me angry," he pointed out.

"And it's working," he boasted. Miles's mouth gaped open as he thought of a response.

"So what if it is? I could just as easily be angry due to the fact that he's my friend, and you're nothing more than some- some playboy who's trying to prove a point!"

"Aww you think I'm a playboy? That's my new favorite compliment," he said, resting his chin on his hands.

Edgeworth raised an unamused brow. "It really shouldn't be. You're classier than that, Diego."

He snorted in amusement. "Even after all those things you said about me?" Miles rolled his eyes fondly.

"Yes, even after all that. So be the bigger man and put an end to this," he reasoned.

"Depends. You got a crush on Wright?"

"I still don't see how that's any of your business."

He shrugged, halfway triumphant. "Hey, that's better than the harsh no I got earlier. You'll admit it sooner or later."

"Not to you I won't," he growled. Edgeworth fiddled with his napkin and laid it across his lap neatly.

"To be honest, I don't care if you admit it to me."

He cocked his head, looking at him skeptically. "You don't?"

Godot shook his head. "No. I just want you to admit it to Trite."

Edgeworth's eyes widened and he recoiled slightly at those words. "Are you insane? I can't possibly tell him that!"

"Tell me what?" Phoenix asked as he walked up. Miles stuttered out an answer.

"Oh! Um, I-I'll tell you later. Now isn't... a good time."

Phoenix gave him a look as he sat down next to him. "You sure you're okay? You're acting, I don't know, weird."

Edgeworth was going to come up with something to say to that, but Godot beat him to it. He held his hands up in surrender. "You got us. There's no reason to lie to him any more Edgey. Truth is, he's planning you a surprise party."

Phoenix's brows shot up. "Wow really? But it's not for another two months or so."

"Yeah well, you know him. Always so organized, and he thinks three steps ahead. Sorry about ruining the surprise," Godot apologized for wrecking the fake party.

Wright rubbed the back of his neck and offered a shy smile. "Don't be! Knowing me, I'll probably forget about it by then. So-"

He was cut off by Godot's phone ringing. "Sorry, one sec." He checked the caller ID, brows furrowing. "That's weird, it's Gumshoe. Hope everything's okay." He answered the call with a flick of his wrist, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hey Dick, everything cool?"

"IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT COOL!" Gumshoe screamed into the speaker. Godot winced and held the phone away from his ear. Edgeworth and Wright shared a look of slight concern.

"Is everything okay?" Phoenix asked quietly. Godot nodded and waved a hand as if to say "all good."

"Hey keep your voice down will you? You're about to burst my eardrum," he said with a small chuckle.

"NO I WILL NOT! JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GETTING BETWEEN PHOENIX AND EDGEWORTH LIKE THAT?" Both men in question went stiff as a board, faces turning red.

Godot paled as he was chewed out. "Uuh hey this really isn't the time-"

"I DIDN'T TELL YOU THEY HAD THE HOTS FOR EACH OTHER JUST SO YOU COULD SWOOP IN AN' TRY TO STEAL WRIGHT AWAY LIKE THAT!"

Godot offered them an embarrassed grin. "Uh, can you excuse me?" They both refused to meet his gaze and just hummed in agreement. The prosecutor slid out of the booth, holding the phone up to his ear, speaking in a hushed yet firm tone.

"Listen Dick, you got it all wrong. I was just-"

"No you listen to me pal! Maya told me the whole thing!"

Godot walked into the bathroom of the restaurant to have a more private conversation. "Look, it's not like that. I'm not trying to hook up with Trite or whatever you think is going on."

"... You're not?" Gumshoe asked, sounding skeptical.

"No. In fact, I'm trying to get them together." Gumshoe snorted.

"You sure got a funny way of showing it."

"I'm making Edgeworth jealous so that he'll admit his feelings," he explained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Ooooh, that's smart!"

"Yeah, so don't go blabbering to Phoenix. I know you can't keep a secret."

"Hey I can totally keep secrets! I just don't want to very often!" he defended himself.

"Alright, are we done here? 'Cause we're out at lunch, and our food should be getting here soon."

"Okay yeah, sorry about the mix up. I'll let you get back to lunch," Dick said, hanging up. Godot heaved a sigh of relief, wiping a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

Meanwhile, Phoenix and Miles sat in an awkward silence as they watched Godot leave. Miles was sitting rigidly, staring at the napkin in his lap. Phoenix twirled the straw around in his glass.

"C-can you believe him? Heh, Gumshoe sure does have an active imagination," Wright said nervously, desperate to break the silence. Miles was quick to agree.

"Yes, he does," he allowed a soft smile to grace his features. "I suppose he's a romantic at heart," he reasoned.

"Uh, yeah. I guess he is," he agreed. The expression on his face was a mixture of nervousness, confusion, and a touch of sadness. Edgeworth took a deep breath. It was either now or never.

"But is he wrong?"

Phoenix whipped his head over to look at him. "What?" He tried to mask the hopefulness in his voice.

"While what he says may seem odd or far fetched at times, he's usually right." He spared a glance at Wright, trying to read him.

"Miles, a-are you saying-"

"I like you Phoenix. As a friend, yes, but... also more," he finally admitted.

Phoenix practically lit up. "Really? Wow that's- I mean- I've liked you since the third grade!" he blurted out, relieved to finally get this off his chest.

"I... also had a bit of a crush. And when we met in court that first time, all those feelings I thought I'd left behind came flooding back." Wright reached out, holding his hand. They stared at each other, warm smiles lighting up the room.

Miles started chuckling softly, and Phoenix cocked his head, an amused smirk on his face. "What's so funny?"

"Godot was doing all this to make me jealous, so that I'd admit my feelings. And it worked."

He nudged him with his elbow teasingly. "Well then, I guess a thank you's in order." Edgeworth groaned, though it was just for show.

"If I thank him then I'll never hear the end of it," he complained lightheartedly.

"Maybe that's not the worst thing. You're cute when you're annoyed and embarrassed," Phoenix cooed, propping his arm on the table to rest his chin in his hand. Miles blushed softly.

"S-stop it, that's supposed to be my line," he grumbled playfully, looking away. Phoenix smirked and pecked his cheek, relishing in the way his blush darkened considerably.

Godot was watching from around the corner of the hall, letting them have their moment. He wore a satisfied smirk as he walked up to their table. Both Wright and Edgeworth scooted away, acting as though nothing had happened.

"Don't play coy you two. I knew my plan would work. You're welcome by the way." They were both rendered flustered and speechless, even as the waiter set down their food.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Betrayal Story - part 5

This is it guys, this is why the characters got names! I hope y’all like it <3  

CW: branding, burning, forced to watch, emeto (pretty brief and only at the end), whumpee restrained to a table, nonsexual noncon touch, hurt no confort again but that will change eventually I promise lol

tagging  @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot  @sunflower1000  @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove  @boxofsilence  @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince @livingforthewhump (let me know if you ever want me to stop or start tagging you ♡)

Part one is here, continued from here

-

Fire is strangely beautiful, Liam thinks, watching it flicker and dance in the hearth. A kind of painful beauty that hurts to see, the idea of touching it enough for gooseflesh to rise, but pretty nonetheless. 

He wishes he could be like fire. Not because of its beauty, but because it produces no shadow. No darkness comes from the flames, only light. And pain, when touched without notice. If he could be like that, only light and self-defense, maybe all of this wouldn’t hurt so much. Chase’s leaving, the dread of what each of his breaths might bring as time passes, the plummeting of his stomach every time he hears footsteps outside his room’s door. 

The flames crackle, and Liam wonders why it is he can’t shake the fear off, as he remembers the guards bursting into his room and pulling him out of bed, leading him outside as Liam pretended each step didn’t make him want to scream. That was minutes ago, and yet the fear still drums in tandem with his heart, pulsating turmoil into his bloodstream. Why feel fear when all it does is make things worse? Wouldn’t it be easier if he could just be at peace in those moments between pain, before it comes? But instead, his mind or his body or his soul decides to fill him with dread – only another layer of horror he cannot avoid.

Jonah was waiting for him when they brought Liam inside a weirdly cozy living room, leaning against the fireplace and watching Liam’s uncertain footsteps as he was pushed down to lie on a steel table placed in the middle of the room. Eyes glued to him as Liam was restrained until he could no longer move. His gaze went straight to the fireplace and stayed there since, watching the flames as memories of electricity, lighting up his every nerve until he nearly lost his voice to screaming, flashed before his eyes. The memory is still fresh enough to freeze him into not resisting. What a pitiful sight he must be.

“Hello there,” Jonah smiles, taking casual steps towards him and stopping by his side to watch from above, hands in his pockets as if having someone tied to a table in his living room is nothing out of the ordinary. “How are you today, Liam? Has your voice returned after our last encounter?”

He lifts his gaze to find the man’s eyes blinking innocently at him.

“You are sick,” Liam rasps out, shaky and small, but the words are there. He might be restrained and scared, but he is not broken. He isn’t. Right?

“That’s a yes, then. Very good, I like to hear you,” scream – he doesn’t even have to finish the sentence for the word to be heard. Liam feels sick. “Now let’s call our mutual friend, shall we?”

Liam narrows his eyes as Jonah types something on his phone. He can’t be talking about– 

“Chase!” Jonah says to the camera Liam only now notices a few paces away, held by another one of Jonah’s men. He tries to hear more, but Jonah comes so close to the camera and talks in such a low voice that all he grasps and holds on to is the name. 

Jaw clenched and stomach churning, Liam stares at the ceiling, letting the wave of bitter rage break against him without resistance. It wins the battle against fear for one moment, and that’s enough for him to seize it with every last bit of willpower. It is better to be angry than frightened, and he’s had enough of the latter for a lifetime.

The frantic beat of his heart turns into aching memories of Chase’s lies, promises of love he never intended to keep, each word meant to trick Liam into being a fool. Twice. Once months ago, then again when he genuinely, stupidly, hoped Chase would pick him instead of a job. Fucking ludicrous. 

But bitterness can only do so much to keep fear at bay, and when Jonah’s voice reaches his ears again, not even a minute later, it comes crashing back and flooding his veins with pointless adrenaline.

“He was a very good boy if you want to know. Just stood there, still and obedient as we buckled in the restraints,” he says to the camera, stopping beside Liam once more, placing a hand on his head. “Say hi to Chase, Liam boy.”

“Fuck you,” he spits. Fuck both of you, he means to complete, but Jonah’s hand is already closing on his hair, drawing out a pathetic little whimper from his lips.

“Language, Liam.”

He closes his eyes and waits for the hand to let go. It’s all he can do. Still, his hands twitch uselessly by his side, palms turned to the ceiling closing in fists, knuckles scraping against cold steel.

“I guess this is a lesson for both of you, then. For Chase to not be a prick and for you to behave better, my pretty plaything.”

Eyes snapping open, he glares up at Jonah, feeling indignation bubble up inside of him.

Jonah doesn’t even see it. He is too busy looking at his phone with an unamused expression before handing it to one of the guards. 

Is he talking to Chase? Is Chase delighting in seeing Liam like this, helpless and scared?

The part of him that refuses to give up entirely shakes its head, remembers gentle touches and tender gazes that couldn’t possibly have been faked. The other part, the one that grows each day he spends in this hell, purses its lips and scoffs at his naiveness. If Chase cared, he wouldn’t have left him here. 

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah says, painful grip turning into deceivingly soft fingers that run through Liam’s hair in mock sympathy. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

He tries to fight it. Of all the things he’s been put through, he fights the tears that prick his eyes. And just like everything else, he loses. They fall in warm drops down his temples as he turns his head, looks away into the fire again. No shadows there, nothing like the darkness seeping through the cracks of his heart, tainting his soul.

“Now for the fun part,” Jonah declares, sauntering to the fireplace, crouching down in front of it. Something entirely too close to panic pools in Liam’s stomach as he gets back up, holding two iron rods he’d dismissed as fire pokers. As Jonah approaches him, he can see with disturbing clarity how wrong he’d been – the rods’ bright-orange tips shine in intricate shapes. Letter shapes.

“J-Jonah,” he breathes, more sob than word, “please, please don’t.”

Jonah smiles at him, and without saying a word hands one of the brands to a guard before placing himself beside Liam’s exposed arm.

He tries to breathe, beg, say something, but every rational thought disappears as Liam follows the blazing hot shapes with wide eyes, gasping for air that refuses to fill his lungs.

He is almost there, the please I’ll do anything hanging from the tip of his tongue when the branding iron is lowered onto the delicate skin above his wrist. 

Burn could never describe the pain that steals every last bit of himself Liam tries to hold on to. Fire sinks into his skin, into muscle and bones until it reaches whatever lies within, and destroys everything in its path. He screams, cries and wails senseless pleads, but nothing passes through the ocean of agony he’s drowned in. 

He barely notices when the brand is pulled away.

He does when the second one is pressed onto his other arm though. 

Liam writhes and sobs, but there’s no escape, no mercy to be begged for. Only pain to feel, nothing, no one else but pain and pain and pain that swallows and dissolves the world into searing flames that hold nothing of whatever beauty he thought he saw.

-

You know, what really makes me mad isn’t even your fucking stupid idea of keeping things from me. It’s the shit job you did deleting those files. Who do you think I am, Chase?

That was all that waited for Chase when his phone buzzed, along with a link to a live stream instead of a video. No recording this time, no certainty that at least while Chase watches, Liam isn’t in pain anymore. 

“Chase. I see you’re faster now. Pity you’re no smarter,” Jonah sighed as soon as he clicked on the link. “But I won’t go into how fucking idiotic it was of you to delete half the information I asked you to get me,” he hissed, low and angry enough for Chase to feel the words as bugs crawling along his skin, up and down, circling his throat, ready to squeeze. “What’s happening here today is entirely on you. I hope you see and hear and remember every bit of it, sweetheart.”

He felt like screaming when Jonah closed his hand in Liam’s hair and made him yelp. The impulse to clench his fist until it shattered the phone was strong enough for Chase to connect the live stream to the television in his living room and bite on his lip when the image expanded and Liam’s terror became so painfully obvious.

One minute later, Chase nearly threw the phone at the wall when he called the man and Jonah simply looked down at his muted cell phone on the other side of the screen and handed it to someone else.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah said, and Chase seethed, half anger and half guilt boiling inside of him. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

Chase dropped the phone in time to avoid crushing it, but the desk chair didn’t escape his rage. Its broken pieces fell on the other side of the room, doing nothing to soothe the horror building up in his stomach.

And then Jonah grabbed the branding iron, and Chase’s heart missed a beat at the sight, eyes widening in tandem with Liam’s.

“J-Jonah,” Liam choked out, “please, please don’t.”

“Jonah,” Chase said too, unable to hold it in just like anything else in his life, even if he knew he was the only one listening. There was never such a thing as restraint when it came to Liam. If only Chase had seen it sooner. “No–“

When the iron descended on that soft, silky, perfect skin above the restraint circling Liam’s wrist, Chase fell on his couch, legs too weak to hold his weight. 

Liam screamed, loud and raw and utterly hopeless, back trying to arch and being pulled back down by too tight restraints before it even left the table. His body spasmed, trying to escape the blaze, but there was nowhere to go, and it took only a moment for the despair to turn into sobs and tears.

It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but those would star Chase’s nightmares forever. Jonah pulled the iron off Liam’s now bright red skin, and Chase couldn’t bear to look at the letter-shaped burn. He also couldn’t help it. 

When Jonah exchanged the used iron with the second one, Chase felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “Please, p-please, please,” Liam begged, so little Chase barely heard it, so dazed he didn’t think Liam did either. 

He echoed it though.

“No, please don’t.”

But no one heard him, and the second branding iron was pressed to the inside of Liam’s other arm, and his mouth opened in a silent scream Chase heard nonetheless.

By the time the second one is pulled away, Chase is kneeling on the floor, hands covering his mouth and tears threatening to overflow.

It is nothing compared to Liam, though. His mouth hangs open even as the iron stops touching skin, and soft sobs wrack his slim body as his glassy eyes leak a constant stream of tears into his hair.

Chase doesn’t even move when Jonah’s voice leaves the speakers again.

“So? Do you like it?” he asks, a manic grin stretched across his lips as he points to Liam and the camera walks toward him. 

It focuses on his face first. Sweat, tears, pure agony written all over it. His eyes lay open and unfocused, lost to the pain. The image slides down to his heaving chest, restrained arms, until it stops above both his wrists.

Chase turns to the side and vomits at the sight. 

Two bright red burns mar the perfect skin he had once worshipped with lips and tongue and feather-light touches that never felt like enough. 

Jonah chuckles, and the live stream ends in that ghastly image of two letters forever engraved on Liam’s skin. Flourished and elegant, a C stands out on his right arm and an R on the left one. His initials. Chase Raymond. 

Chase pukes again, and then curls up on the floor and weeps.

(next)

[rebelwrites]

Never Going To Be Alone Part 3

Jax Teller x Reader

“You gonna actually do something today kiddo?” dad asked, knocking your feet off the coffee table passing you a mug of coffee.

“Yeah this” you nodded at the Tv.

“Yeah I didn’t mean binge watching tv and you know it” he sighed, he had never seen you in a slump like this before.

“Nope” you mumbled looking back at the tv.

It had been two weeks since you moved into your dad’s place. You ignored all the notifications off the guys and especially Jax. Hearing the front door slam shut you sighed, there was only one person who it could be.

“Where is the little shit?” The sounds of your older brother’s voice boomed through the house.

“You told Xander” you huffed.

“Too right he fucking did” Xander said taking the coffee out your grasp before he scooped you into his arms making you squeal.

“Put me down you asshole” you screamed as he carried you upstairs and into the bathroom.

Dropping you into the bath he reached up and turned the shower on, completely soaking you.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you” you hissed.

“Hey I was nice and put it on warm” Xander shrugged “now hurry up and shower I want you showered and dressed in the hour”

Rolling your eyes as he closed the bathroom door giving you privacy you stripped out of your wet clothes tossing them into the wash basket, washing away the dirt from the last couple of days.

As you were wrapping a towel around your body you heard Xander’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Yeah I know she’s gonna kill me but I don’t care you haven't see the mood she’s in” he whispered but not quiet enough “no I don’t know, yeah she’s here, wait for my text okay”

Opening the door you saw your brother jump before quickly ending the call.

“Who you on the phone to?” You asked as you walked into your old room.

“None of your business now hurry up and get dressed” Xander said crossing his arms across his chest.

“Swear to god if you don’t get on your bike and follow me I will kill you” Gemma hissed at Jax.

“Why where we going?” He asked as he never took his eyes off his phone, for the last couple of days he kept seeing the little three dots on your conversation like you were typing but no messaging ever came.

“To visit a friend now shut up and just follow me” Gemma nodded.

“You are up to something” you huffed parking your bike in front of the lake.

“I’m just looking out for my baby sister” He smiled pulling you into your arms. Guiding you over to the rocks by the lake. You did notice him quickly sending a text before putting his phone in the pocket of his leather jacket.

“Talk to me squirt” he said softly as you sat down.

“What is there to talk about?” You sighed pulling your knees to your chest resting your head on his shoulder.

“Stop keeping things bottled up. We know it’s only a matter of time before you explode” he said.

“I made an absolute fool of myself Xander” you sighed as tears clouded your vision. “Yes I was drunk but I didn’t think I was stupid”

“You are not stupid”

“I must be for thinking my best friend of what 15 years would ever see me as anything more than his best friend” you huffed “I mean look at me, I ran away to save myself the heartache but somehow cause myself more in the process”

“Come on you know boys are stupid and they don’t see what’s right under their noses” Xander laughed “look how long it took me and Sarah to get together”

“Every goddamn day my heart tells me to just text him, I write my fucking feelings in a text and then my brain takes over and I delete it like it doesn’t matter” you sighed as tears ran down your cheeks. “I don’t even care anymore I just miss my fucking best friend, I’ve accepted the fact we will never be anything more, this is the longest we have gone without speaking yet I’m a fucking stubborn bitch who has hurt her pride”

Xander stayed silent, with your head resting on his shoulder looking out at the water, he glanced over to Jax who was standing a couple of feet away and heard everything you had said. Staring at the blonde before moving his eyes to you Jax got the hint.

“I fucking miss my best friend too”

You knew who the voice belonged to without even looking up, you would always know that gravely tone. Lifting your head up you glared at Xander.

“You are an asshole” you mumbled.

“You will be thanking me later squirt” he smiled kissing your head “I will leave you kids to talk”

Pulling your cigarettes out of your jacket as Xander left you on the rock and Jax took his place. You both sat in silence not really knowing what to say.

After a couple of moments you spoke up.

“I guess you heard all of what I just said?” You asked, turning your head to him, he looked just as bad as you did.

“Yeah darlin’ I did” Jax said “how long have you felt like this?”

“Years now” you whispered “well since high school”

“Why didn’t you say something?” He whispered, taking your free hand in his playing with your fingers.

“What was the point, it’s not like you see me as anything other than your best friend” you sighed as the tears started running down your cheeks again.

“You really believe that” he said slowly “because darlin’ it is far from the truth, I didn’t think you saw me more than your best friend so I didn’t do anything because I’d rather have you in my life as my bestie than not have you in my life at all”

“So why when I kissed you did you just sit there?” You sniffed.

“Because I’m an idiot and you caught me completely off guard” he sighed pulling you into his arms “I went by your place and was confused when I saw it empty until I saw the smashed photo of us and then it hit me”

Your body was melting into his touch like it always did, your heart felt a little bit lighter as he played with the ends of your hair.

“I realised that amongst all the chaos that is my life the one constant in it was you. I fell in love with all of you without even realising it” Jax whispered placing his fingers under your chin so you were looking at him.

“I didn’t just fall in love with the best of you like the way your eyes light up the room, the way just hearing your laugh makes me smile, the way your hand fits perfectly in mine when you drag me off to show me something, the way your personality stands out, the way your smile gives me butterflies that I always ignored or the way your body moves” Jax whispered as he used his thumb to wipe your tears away as you stayed quiet.

“I fell in love with your scars, the way you always have a sarcastic comment, the way you feel helpless at two in the morning and call me and we stay up just eating ice cream, the way you cry about something that happened years ago, the way you have probably the shortest temper known to man, or the way you sometimes want to be alone” he whispered as his eyes filled with tears “I fell in love with the great in you but I also fell in love with the bad you see in yourself, but the bad you see is the great that I see because I love every part of you”

You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, the look in his eyes showed he meant every single word. Resting your forehead against his you took a breath before pressing your lips against his.

This time he instantly responded, his lips moving in sync with yours as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling him closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling away you rested your forehead against his.

“You think we can make this work?” You whispered against his lips.

“I know we can darlin’ look I know things aren’t gonna be easy in my world of chaos but I am willing to do everything possible to make it work” he whispered “all you have to do is come home”

“Okay” you whispered smiling “take me home Teller”

“Later tonight, I want to spend the rest of the day here, just you and me”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @woahitslucyylu @beth-winchester21 @minnicelli @everyhowlmarksthedead @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @angelreyesgirl @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @sadeyesgf @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @fvckthisbxtchup @cubblycie

[acatnamedpusheen]

Hi pretty! Can I request a GOT7 reaction to the reader crying because she is afraid that the boys will break up with her? Thank you 💫

Hello and thank you for your request! I thought I'd make this one a bit different from my previous. I'll have an initial scenario for all 7 of the boys and then each of them will have a different reaction. Ok the Jaebeom one came out so long it could be considered a fic of its own, but he's my ultimate bias and I had a nice idea. 🤭

[GOT7 reaction to you crying thinking that they'll break up with you]

Hate comments, too many of them, too many for you to handle the pressure anymore. The fandom was basically split in half at this point and it only seemed logical for him to break up with you in order to save his career and reputation. You were quietly but anxiously waiting for the moment he'd end your relationship and you both would have to become strangers again.

Jaebeom

"Y/N can you come here for a moment, I need to talk to you" you heard him call from the living room. Your blood instantly turned cold and you froze on your spot in the kitchen were you'd be peeling an apple.

The mere thought of a break up made your eyes watery and due to the pent up anxiety it was impossible for you to hold back the tears. You hesitantly walked to the living room, head down, silently crying.

"Y/N are you ok, what happened?" Jaebeom's voice was full of concern once he had seen you.

"Just say it, I knew it would be coming, so let's get this over with" you didn't have the strength to look at him as more tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Say what? What would be coming? Y/N you're scaring me, what's going on?" he was more confused than ever.

"You're going to break up with me because of all the hate. Your reputation matters the most and it's the only way to calm the fans down." you said between sobs. Was he making it that difficult on purpose?

"Y/N, Y/N! Now hold on there a second. Why would I ever break up with you? Did you really think now that I've finally found the love of my life, I could let her go that easily?" he came closer and wrapped his arms around your sobbing form.

"B-but your career? T-the company?" you raised your head to look at him through teary eyes.

"We're past the dating ban. People who are hating should not consider themselves fans. I'm not letting you go ok?" his reassuring expression helped you to gradually stop sobbing.

"Ok, but then why did you want to talk to me? You sounded serious." you remembered how it all initially started.

"It's about Nora." he let go of you, then continued "She's loosing too much fur and I think she's lost her appetite lately. I think we should take her to the vet, it's not normal." his words had you laughing a bit at first, at how silly you made yourself look, but you were quick to respond.

"I'll take her. I thought it was my idea that she's looking thinner lately." you searched around with your gaze to find her.

"Thank you Y/N. And please don't ever worry about us breaking up." he said before hugging you again.

Mark

He came out of the shower and heard you talking on the phone. What was unusual though was the fact that he could swear you were crying.

"I-I'm simply waiting for him to break up with me. I don't know how I'll be able to cope with it." Mark couldn't believe his ears as he walked closer to your bedroom.

"Y/N what are you saying? Who's going to break up with you? Because it's certainly not me." he didn't care if you were still on the phone he had to interrupt.

Startled, you quickly hung up and tried to wipe your tears. "Aren't you going to break up with me because of all the backlash?" you asked as he came to sit with you on the bed.

"No, of course not. Y/N, I love you more than anything. I can't afford to lose you over the hate of some toxic people." he held your hands in his and looked you in the eyes.

"Y-You're sure?" you were still worried.

"Yes, absolutely. Now call back that friend of yours and tell them that there's no break up happening any time soon." he kissed your cheek while you reached for your cellphone.

Jackson

He was barely through the front door when he saw you crying on the sofa. Once you'd noticed him you tried to wipe away your tears with your sleeve in an attempt to look fine but you couldn't fool anyone. Your red puffy eyes, glistening cheeks and uneven breath all indicated that you'd been crying for a while, since you happened to come across some hate comments.

"Baby what is it? Is everything ok?" he rushed towards you, with a worried expression.

"Just break up with me already. There's too much negativity from the fandom, you should have never dated me in the first place" you choked as more tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Break up with you? Why on earth would I want to do that, Y/N? You're all that matters to me. Negativity won't be enough to tear us apart." he cupped your face with his hands and kissed your temple.

Jinyoung

"What are you doing still in these clothes?" Jinyoung freaked out when he saw you coming out of your bedroom wearing your casual "at home" outfit while he had changed and was ready for the planned dinner with his parents.

"I don't want to go... What's the point? You're going to break up with me sooner or later." your voice broke as you finished your sentence. Tears were rolling down your cheeks, head hung low.

"Break up with you? Y/N if you're getting such ideas because you've been reading netizens' comments..." he stopped and sighed in frustration. "Listen, they are not going to interfere with my personal life, they are not going to make me break up with you." he took steady steps towards you. "I love you Y/N and I see a future with you. That's why I want you to meet my parents." he was inches away from you now as he gently held your hands in his.

Through teary eyes you looked up at him. His sweet smile was the reassurance you needed. "Jinyoung...I love you too, I don't want to lose you!" you cried in his chest while he soothingly stroked your back.

Youngjae

You woke up in the middle of the night after having had a nightmare. Well not everyone would characterize it as a nightmare, but for you it was the one thought that's been troubling you for the past few days: Youngjae breaking up with you.

Sitting up on the bed surrounded by the darkness, you could do nothing but cry, not caring if you'd wake up Youngjae, who was still sleeping right next to you.

It wasn't long, however, before he stirred awake and noticed you crying. "Y/N, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" he sat up rubbing his eyes.

"Please tell me that you're not going to break up with me" you cried as you held your face in your hands.

"Y/N what are you talking about?" he run his fingers through his messy hair, sleepiness still evident in his voice.

"I know the hate has to stop but isn't there another way?" you turned to face him and more sobs shook your body violently.

"Of course there are other ways! The company will take legal action if needed, we will keep a low profile and eventually it will all die down." he placed his soft palm over your cheek. "Now let's go back to sleep and forget about it all, we have each other." he pulled you into his arms as he layed back down under the covers, making you feel safe at last.

BamBam

"Y/N, I've got something important to tell you!" he said excitedly when he came back from practice, but given that you were too anxious about a potential break up and the fact that you didn't see his bright smile because you were in the bathroom washing your hands, the tears came naturally. You were convinced that your relationship with BamBam was just seconds away from ending.

"Y/N are you in here?" he reluctantly approached the bathroom door since you didn't come at once. You tried to compose yourself but the sobs kept coming even harder and BamBam entered unnoticed until you heard him speak again.

"What's wrong Y/N? Do you want to talk about it?" he was more puzzled than worried about your sudden outburst.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you? That's what you wanted to tell me." ashamed, you looked way from him once you'd finished your sentence.

"Where did that come from?" he was left dumbfounded by your question.

"Because of all the backlash, the hate. It's damaging your image." you still couldn't face him.

He sighed in relief upon hearing you elaborating. "No way I'd break up with you for such reason. And what I was going to tell you is that the company is finally taking legal action against the malicious comments." he lifted your chin and looked into your eyes. "So, stop worrying about all that, I'm here for you and always will be." he said and pecked your lips.

Yugyeom

Your DMs were flooding with messages from fans and you were currently in the process of deleting them, sat right across from Yugyeom in his studio. Randomly you chose to open some first, but it became too toxic as 9/10 were just hateful. The fandom was demanding you break up with Yugyeom and leave him alone because you didn't deserve him.

"Am I really not enough for you? Are you going to break up with me?" you glanced at him with tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

"What's gotten into you, Y/N? Why would you ever think you're not enough for me?" he got up and came to kneel in front of you, moving a strand of hair away from your face.

"Maybe they're right, you should find someone better than me." the tears were running freely down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey! Look at me." his bright big eyes were fixed on yours. "Don't ever doubt yourself and my feelings towards you because of some toxic people. You are the one for me and I'm the one for you, we both know that." he wiped a tear with his thumb, then pecked your cheek. "Ignore those messages, they're no good. Instead, let me put on a song I've been working on and tell me how you like it!" he grinned at you before getting back to his console.

[alistair-blackwood]

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #2)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth,  his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the  windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.  

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can–

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

A knock startled Martin from his troubled doze. A lone ray of light had managed to break through the storm, cutting through the lingering shadows of his room. The winds shrieked. The snow roiled and bellowed and pounded the windows. The white wall stood firm.

Nothing had changed. Martin curled in on himself, fighting the urge to tug at the wisps of his hair as his heart thundered against his ribs.

We share tea every morning and dinner every night. He’s back. We’re talking. I’m not lonely. I am not lonely.

So why had nothing changed? What was he doing wrong?

“Martin?”

Martin jumped. Jon’s face was peeking out from behind the door, and when their eyes met, he held up two cups of tea.

Martin had overslept.

“Shit,” he breathed, moving to scramble out of bed. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Remain where you are, please.”

Head buzzing with exhaustion and grief, Martin settled back down. No point pitching a fit now when he’d probably just tip over. Jon would probably just push him back down again.

“You seem unwell,” Jon said as he sat at Martin’s feet, handing him his cup. Martin’s reflection stared up at him from the hot, dark liquid, blurred and unfathomable. 

“I look that bad, then?”

“You look as if you slept poorly, yes. Maybe a change of pillows is in order?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just ... one of those nights, I guess.” He sipped at his tea, desperate to leech any glimmer of warmth and comfort offered to him. And yet, the jasmine tasted acrid in his mouth.

Why are you lounging about like this, sucking on tea? a voice whispered. You should be figuring out a way out of here. There must be a way, and you need to find it.

“So,” Martin said. “Still no change in this storm, then, huh?”

“… That would appear to be the case, yes.”

“Yeah. I just, it seemed like …” Martin swirled the tea until the liquid nearly sloshed over the rim. “I mean, now that we’re talking again and everything, I assumed things would … get better?”

Cup half raised to his lips, Jon paused, his eyes unreadable. “You … assumed if we resumed communication, the storm would clear?”

Well, when Jon said it like that, the whole thing sounded silly. Martin’s cheeks heated. “I mean, this is all because of that one, isn’t it?” His hands tightened on the cup. “The Lonely? That’s what’s causing this, right?”

“I don’t remember insinuating as much.”

“What else could it be, though?”

Jon’s thumb traced the handle of his cup, silent, and Martin took that as his answer.

“So, we’re talking again, yeah? So shouldn’t it just … go?”

“I couldn’t tell you how the entities choose to manifest themselves,” Jon said, a new, hard edge threading his words. “To act like I could would be deceitful. I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think your plan will come to fruition.”

Martin���s chest panged at his tone. Plan? It hadn’t been a plan; that made it sound like Martin was … using Jon in some way. Martin had merely thought it was a bygone conclusion. And why wouldn’t it be? Want to get rid of an entity of loneliness keeping you trapped somewhere? Spend more time chatting up your beautiful host! Why wouldn’t that sort of logic work?

But of course it hadn’t been that simple. He was a fool for thinking it could be.

He just wanted Jon to give him an answer. To tell him to have hope, to tell him it was okay to have hope, despite everything terrible about their situation. He just wanted him to understand, and Martin was running out of time.

“Today’s the day,” Martin said, desperation thick on his tongue. “When I’d send my letter back to my Mum. I meant to tell you that before, but I … I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to jinx it or something.”

Jon pressed his lips together, and his eyes were so sad and pitying that Martin wanted to be sick. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have done something before now. Made a plan or …” Martin’s eyes returned to the safe murkiness of his tea. “But instead I’ve just been sitting around here and …” -drinking tea, reading useless books, making moon eyes at- “Do you think anyone would have told her by now? That I’m gone?”

“I-”

“No, God, why would you know a thing like that? Sorry, I just …” Martin sucked in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. “I can’t decide which is worse; if someone’s told her already, or if she’'ll just be stuck wondering what happened to me.”

Christ, stop. This whining was only making Jon shift uncomfortably in his seat. But the image of his mother, alone in a too-small cottage she hated, that was too drafty and smelled like damp, waiting for his letter to arrive in the post- waiting, and waiting, and waiting-

“I should have been doing more. What was I even thinking? I thought things would just work out and I’ve just been sitting here-”

“You can hardly be expected to know-”

“I could have tried in the first place,” Martin said, aware his voice was creeping in volume and helpless to stop it.

And then, it hit him. 

“What if I tried just ... leaving?"

“… I beg your pardon?”

A burst of impassioned energy welled up in his chest, chasing away the chilling emptiness. “What if I tried just leaving? Muscling my way through the storm?”

Confused laughter escaped Jon’s lips, trailing away under the hard weight of Martin’s stare. A crease diveted Jon’s eyebrows. “Martin, t-that ... That would be absurd-”

But Martin wasn’t listening, adrenaline sweeping through his limbs until he thought he could run. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? That was a plan. “I could do it. The storm doesn’t have to be gone and so long as I’m dressed for it- If I leave now, I could make it to the post office before-”

“Are you hearing to yourself right now?” The ferocity of Jon’s tone snapped Martin out of his racing thoughts. “The only thing you’ll accomplish is getting lost. You don’t know the way, and you’ll freeze before you get anywhere useful. Martin, please, I understand your situation is-”

“You don’t.”

The sharp words lingered heavy. Jon pulled away, eyes wide, but Martin didn’t retract, or let himself feel guilty about his sudden volume. Jon needed to know; he needed to understand this was important. Important enough to try anything.

Taking a deep breath, a touch of steel hardened Jon’s jaw once more. “Then what of Phillipa, hm? Have you even considered her well being in this grand plan of yours? You’d force her through this blizzard carrying you on her back?”

Martin’s stomach sank, guilt twisting in such fierce knots that his anger was strangled in its own crib. No. No, he hadn’t considered Phillipa in this slapdash plan of his. She’d never make it through the storm, no matter how careful Martin was.

But without her, Martin didn’t stand a chance.

This is what happens, the voice said, louder now, when you get complacent.

Something brushed his arm. Martin flinched, but Jon’s expression remained steady and calm; it almost made Martin angrier, the sore, wounded cavity in his chest desperate to snap and argue until they were gasping for breath. So long as they argued, Martin still had a chance to be right- there was a way out of here they just weren’t seeing, and they could figure it out together if they just kept-

“It’s not your fault,” Jon said, and the shame that swept over Martin nearly choked him. He drained the last of his cup, trying to collect himself. The tea had gone cold.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said. Jon stretched out his hand for Martin’s cup, their fingers brushing, and Martin had to beat back a shiver. “I … I think I'm going to lie down for a little while. If that’s okay. Probably won’t be up for cleaning out the study later.”

“Martin, please, I’d hardly expect you to clean. Take your time.”

There was no judgment in his tone, no sneer to his lips, even with how brusque his words were. Of course Jon would understand. He’d understand how Martin was feeling better than anyone. Trapped. Helpless. 

And Martin had gone and yelled at him for it.

Curling up under the sheets, Martin let the shrieking wind carry him back to a troubled sleep.

[the-bjd-community-confess]

More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

/s

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous 

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Number 134 [22]

Chapter 21

May 16. 21:05

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Robbe said for the millionth of time today even if he knew it wouldn’t mean anything, but he desperately said it again and again.

“Well, I want to talk about it so that’s what we’re going to do.” Robbe rolled his eyes and started walking towards the kitchen, already done with this argument.

He heard Sebastian’s footsteps following him and sighed.

The past few days have been very hard on him, he hasn’t heard anything from Sander and he knew, he wouldn’t, not until he made up his mind and told him what he wanted, but every time he’d get a notification, his heart would start hoping it was from him, only to get disappointed.

And he wanted to call him, or text him, or do anything that would mean being with him, choosing him, but he was terrified.

Sander was too good, too pure and somebody Robbe would never deserve no matter how much he tried. And he’s also not good with changes in his life.

What he has now, with Sebastian, it’s not great but it’s familiar, and it’s the best he can ask from life.

And Sebastian always reminds him of that too, so by now, Robbe is used to feeling thankful for what he has, and afraid to lose it. That’s mostly the reason why his countless break up missions failed. A lot of times, he didn’t have the guts to do it properly and other times, Sebastian made his mind turn upside down.

By now, he knew a cute date, or kisses or cuddles would only come after a very serious fight, not for any other occasion.

If they didn’t fight all the time, he’s sure, they would never touch each other.

He has no idea how they got here, since at first, everything seemed to be great, their relationship was amazing but now, Robbe could barely call it, whatever they had, a relationship.

“Don’t walk away from me.” The way Robbe was so exhausted from all this. He has no idea why he thought that coming here today would be a good idea. He probably wanted to check, for the last time.

Check if it was real, if Sebastian’s and his relationship was really that bad, but oh how much he regrets that decision now.

“How did you not tell me?” Robbe could hear on the which level of angry, Sebastian was getting by the tone of his voice and it seemed like the things would get ugly pretty soon.

“I didn’t know he’d be there and I told you why. He acted like he didn’t know me because Noor doesn’t know and what could I do? Say ‘no, we already know each other?’” It’s been already forty minutes since they started talking about this.

This, meaning Sebastian reading the messages between Sander and him which took place the next day after their accidentally meeting at the bar. Luckily, Robbe feared this would happen so he deleted the last messages between them but not all of it, so after Sebastian found out, quoting “he was that Sander and you said nothing?” there they were.

“As if I’d believe that. You tried to hide it from me and I just want to know why.”

This calm facade he had going on was even scarier than his yelling and Robbe knew, he wouldn’t leave it alone, no matter what he told him.

“I told you why I did it.”

“So you’re telling me there wasn’t any more reason?” Robbe looked at the clock, hoping that his mom or anybody else would call him so he could lie about something happening and go home, but of course, he didn’t have any luck and the universe hated him, his phone has been silent all day long, nobody needed him or wanted to help him out.

He knew Sebastian wouldn’t let him go out of his house right now, and not until he got what he wanted, or not until he got tired of fighting, and it wouldn’t happen anytime soon since he just started, he was only getting warmed up.

“No, as I said already, there isn’t any different reason.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and scoffed at him.

“I know you’re fucking him.” Robbe gripped the cup he was holding, starting to get mad but he knew it was important to stay calm and stable.

“I’m not doing anything.” He can’t ever remember how many times he has already heard all this and how he already knew each word that would leave his mouth next.

“So you’re telling me, all those texting and meeting up, ignoring me, didn’t mean anything? How much of a fool do you think I am, huh? If you’re not hiding anything , then why don’t you want to tell me the truth?”

“I’m telling the truth.” The desperation in his voice was already visible. He wished to end this already, he wished to go home.

He wished to be with Sander.

“Can we stop now, please?”

Can we stop forever?

“No. I just know you’re lying. How many times should you hide it? Just please tell me the truth, I won’t get mad, I promise. I just want to know.”

It makes Robbe’s head spin when he does all those moods swings on him, makes him think that all of the problems are in his head.

Sebastian usually doesn’t say the word “please.”

“I’m telling the truth, please just, believe me okay? I don’t have anything with him, I already told you.”

No matter how much I want to have something with him, I don’t.

“It’s all his fault, he came in and messed up your head.”

Robbe thought that too, for a very long time.

But as time went on, he realized a lot of stuff. It wasn’t Sander destroying their relationship;

It was Robbe opening up about his crush on Jens to him and Sebastian getting freaked out when Robbe’d say that he’d go out with his friends, complaining to him how they would never get to hang out that much, making Robbe feel guilty and in the end, making him ditch his friends for him without even realizing it.

It was ironic laughter after telling him about what his mom has been talking about while she didn’t feel good, making him feel horrible about sharing that fact.

It was “not even your parents wanted you” after one of their first intense fight, which in the end got sorted out with two movie tickets and one pathetic apology.

It was creating a problem out of nothing.

It was making him feel like a horrible person after getting accepted in his dream university just because it was a little bit far away from where Sebastian was studying.

It was getting mad about every little detail that’d go wrong.

It was “sometimes I understand why you father left you.”

It was making fun of his studies and not giving him any chance to work.

It was laughing at him for still skating with his friends on his free time, telling him how he was acting like a toddler.

It was “you don’t deserve good things in life and when something good happens, you’re not even thankful.”

And then Sander happened, and Sebastian didn’t even need to find a reason to fight, it was already there. No matter what the argument would start about, it would always end with Sander.

At first, it wasn’t anything drastic.

It was Sebastian pressuring Robbe into telling him all about this new client he had, claiming he was just curious and wanted to know what his boyfriend was doing, making Robbe tell him about Sander and his file, which Sebastian read without his permission after finding out that it existed.

It was him asking Robbe uncomfortable and personal questions about Sander that he didn’t want to share, creating arguments from it, getting mad that Robbe wasn’t trusting him with this.

And when Sander ended the contract and they started meeting up, it was hell for Robbe. Sebastian would tell him everyday how he hated that they were seeing each other and how it wasn’t his “job” to take care of Sander anymore.

Robbe guesses that’s when he started to get more paranoid about Robbe and Sander meeting up, afraid that something more between them was going on.

One time Sebastian even went so far that Robbe didn’t talk to him for the whole week, already ready to end it all, only for Sebastian to feed him more lies, promise him it wouldn’t happen again, telling him that sometimes he just snaps and he just doesn’t want to lose Robbe: “it’s alright, you can have fun all you want, he will try to kill his self sooner or later again and will succeed in it and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

And Sander.

He’s everything and so much more Robbe could ask for, but he knows, he will only hurt him, he will never be enough and he can’t drag him in his shit.

Sander is too good, too amazing, too perfect. And he’s not being fair to him, he knows but he can’t help it.

When they are together, he feels calm, like nothing bad will happen and he feels happy to finally talk to somebody who just understands him, knows what he’s feeling, knows who he is and what he wants. He almost texted him four times, but didn’t know what to say.

I’m yours, have me.

I’m only happy when I’m with you.

Will you take me as I am?

Please forgive me for everything, I can’t seem to stop hurting you and it’s killing me, but staying away also hurts, I don’t know what I want but I know I want you.

“No, it wasn’t his fault.” Robbe whispered, hoping that the other boy didn’t hear him but it was too late.

“What did you say? Are you defending him?”

“No, I’m just saying that we already had some problems.” With a sudden rush of confidence, he dared to say it and look him in the eyes.

There was something that run on Sebastian’s face for a second but Robbe couldn’t figure out what it meant.

“Problems? What are you saying?” He took a step and Robbe wished he wasn’t leaning on the counter so he could take a step back.

Next, he felt his hands on his cheeks, his face close, making him obligated to look up. “Hey, I know I sometimes can be aggressive and maybe even raise my voice but you know that I love you so much right? And they don’t mean anything, I just lost control. I know I shouldn’t but it’s who I am. I’m sorry, okay? It’s me who you should be with and only me.” Robbe could hear the hidden meaning behind his words now, for the first time in ever, he just heard it instead of realizing it later. “It’s me who you deserve.”

He got sick feeling down in his stomach and his mind filled with how much he wanted to be with his favorite person in this world, right now, he spoke up: “I want to break up.”

“What?” Robbe took his hands in his own and put them away from his face, took a step so he was out of the way and put some distance between them.

He cleared his throat, took a breath and repeated.

And just as he expected, the storm came crushing down, the flames went out and he had to close his eyes and wince from the howl he heard coming from the boy in front of him.

“For him? You want to break up with me for him?”

“N-n-no. I just want it for myself.” How he wished his phone to call right now.

“For yourself? Are you even listening to yourself?”

Robbe was and he was surprised and terrified.

“I want to go.” Robbe mumbled and tried to walk pass him but got held by a hand on his way out.

“Didn’t I tell you not to walk away from me?”

That tone still sent shivers all over his body in a very bad and unpleasant way and he wanted to say “I’m not afraid of your voice anymore” but he couldn’t, since he was afraid and both of them knew that.

And it’s not like he’s afraid of anything really, it’s not like Sebastian has ever touched him physically, but Robbe hated this aura around them when he gets mad so he always tried to make him win arguments so he won’t lose control, so he won’t yell, so they would act like they we’re happy.

And somehow Robbe being tired of arguments and making Sebastian win and agreeing with him, turned into all of their conversations ending with Robbe saying yes to whatever Sebastian wanted just so they wouldn’t have any more problems than they already did and Robbe has no idea how only Sander could make him realize that.

He probably knew, deep down knew how wrong it was but hoped it was a lie, hoped that this relationship could work out in the end but it never did and it never will. Specially not now, when Robbe finally saw that he wasn’t worth it, that Sander was willing to show him how special he was and no matter how crazy and unreal it sounded, he wanted to give it a shot. He just wanted to get out of here.

“I don’t want to be with you, why can’t you understand that?” He tried to make him let go of his hand but didn’t have any success.

“I want to know the reason.” Sebastian raised his voice and finally Robbe had enough and he screamed too.

“Because I don’t love you.” The boy still didn’t back off.

“You love him don’t you?” He pronounced the word “him” with so much hate that it was all it took for Robbe to burst out and yell out “yes” on top of his lungs which made the boy lose his grip on him and Robbe took the chance to start walking away. Only for Sebastian to go after him.

“I knew it. All those times you were with him, of course, and you’re making me seem like I’m the responsible for this. How many times have you slept with him then?”

He has been following him around when Robbe went back to the living room, looking for his phone and taking it in his hand, then going back to the hallway to take his jacket.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not going anywhere, I’m not done yet.”

He caught up with him and was about to grip his arm again to make him stop that

Robbe spun around, his fingers on the door handle.

“I’m done.” Looked him up and down for the last time, opened the door and walked out.

He could hear horrible screaming from the house, a few of them being a very loud “fine, go, see if I care,” “yeah go to him, he will get bored of you too eventually,” “if you think that you deserve any bit of a happiness you’re wrong,” “fuck you” and of course “go fuck yourself.”

As soon as he was outside, he ran.

Not daring to look back, afraid that he’d still follow him, watch his every move, control him.

And he ran until his legs couldn’t handle anymore, until his knees started shaking and when he finally thought that he was free, he fell.

Trying to calm down, trying to realize what he did and trying to see that he did the right thing. And when it was obvious that he couldn’t relax or calm down, he reached out to the person he needed the most right now.

He couldn’t see straight, the whole screen was blurry when he turn on his phone and tried to text him. Fortunately, Sander responded quickly.

And when Robbe saw his message, he breathed out.

May 16. 23:49

Sander didn’t know what to expect when he got to the address Robbe sent him, but finding the brunet on his knees, in the middle of the street, breathless with his head in his hands, rocking front to back, definitely wasn’t it.

He got scared as soon as he caught the glimpse of him, stopped the car, but didn’t care enough to turn it off, the light coming from the car lighting the whole street and road. There was nobody in sight, just Robbe, paralyzed and numb from this world, who didn’t even notice Sander got there.

When Robbe sent that he didn’t know where he was but he’d send the address using his map, Sander got more worried and he wasn’t able to breath normally until he saw him, but now, looking at him when he finally got here, he knew he wouldn’t be able to calm down anyways.

He run to him, didn’t even care to close the door, kneeled down next to him, getting his trousers dirty.

He didn’t know if he should touch him, or what to say, what to do.

“Robbe.” He whispered but when he realized that the boy didn’t hear him, he repeated himself.

Robbe looked up to him so fast, Sander heard his neck crack, looking at him like he was imagining, hallucinating Sander there, didn’t say anything to him.

It was dark but Sander’s car light was helping him to see how wet Robbe’s eyes and cheeks were and he could hear how hard it was for him to take a breath.

“Hey, I don’t know what to do.” Sander mumbled, trying to catch his attention so he’d focus on him.

“Tell me what to do.” He could see Robbe processing his words and after a while of silence, he whispered something, looking away from him, staring at the darkness around them.

“I couldn’t hear what you said. Can you repeat it for me?” He tried to act like him, think about what Robbe’d do or say if the situation was reversed.

When Robbe still stayed silent, Sander decided that he had to take matters into his hands now.

“Come on, Robbe.” He got close to him, their legs touching each other.

“Tell me what to do. I want to help but I have no idea how. Just tell me.”

“C-can you just - “ Robbe started.

“Yeah, tell me. Use your words, angel.”

He felt a horrible feeling down to his stomach while looking at him like this, unable to do anything, unable to take his pain away.

“Just stay with me.” He finally mumbled and Sander nodded his head, his heart melting.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Sander could see that Robbe wanted to say more but didn’t, something was holding him back.

“What do you want? What do you need?”

The boy was still hesitant, but after a while he shook his head and started talking.

“I want you to hold me.” He became quiet but then looked at him in the eyes.

“I need you to hold me, please just hold me close.”

Hold me close and never let me go.

And Sander wasted no time, he put his arms around him and made him turn around, put him in his arms, against his chest. And when he felt soft and cold hands, gripping his shirt, he smiled weakly, sadly.

And then the tears came. Robbe started weeping and all Sander could do was to tight his embrace around him, and whisper “I’m here” all over again in his ear.

And they stayed like this for a long time, with Sander touching his back up and down, putting him closer and closer and Robbe clinging to him like his life depended on it, and maybe it really did. A few cars passed by but they didn’t care. The cars had to go all the way around them and Sander’s open car doo so they wouldn’t hit them but neither of them moved a muscle.

And when Robbe finally calmed down, Sander dared to ask “Did something horrible happen?” with his lips in his hair, his legs and hands all around him.

Robbe looked up to him, their faces so close to each other and whispered “No, something good happened” and after seeing Sander’s confused face, he added “I’m just overwhelmed, and happy you’re here.”

“I’m here and I plan to stay with you. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He chuckled humorously.

“Alright. That’s okay. Can you stand?” Robbe nodded his head and Sander helped him up on his feet, took his hand.

“Let’s go.” Robbe looked up at him weirdly.

“Where?”

“You can’t possibly think I’m leaving you alone right now. Come.” Took his hand and made him walk over to the car, helping him, not letting go for even a second, sat him down on the passenger seat and even put the belt on him, then walked over to the other side and started the car.

For the whole ride he hasn’t taken his eyes off of him, would throw glances at him, checking how he was doing, while Robbe looked out of the window, didn’t let Sander see his whole face but would look at him from time to time and smile to his self sadly, his cheeks still wet, hair messed up, clothes muddy, but to Sander, he still looked the prettiest person he has ever seen. “Where are we going?” He asked after a while.

“To mine.”

Where you belong.

May 17. 01:37

Robbe already knew that Sander lived alone but he was more than grateful for that fact right now. He texted his mom that he wouldn’t be able to see her tonight. He hasn’t even tried to refuse when Sander said he was taking him with him, to his house since all he really wanted to do was to be with him.

It was the first time he came to his home and the way the whole place just screamed “Sander” was so crazy. The walls were even done in black and white or had massive paintings all over them, a lot of posters on them and the paint smudges were visible on the couches.

He made a hot tea for Robbe and gave him some clothes to change into, which he did. They were huge on them, specially the T-shirt. And he hasn’t missed the way Sander looked him up and down when he walked out, but of course, didn’t say anything. He also hasn’t asked any questions about what happened, he was waiting for Robbe to speak up when he was ready.

They were sitting in front of each other, drinking their tea silently.

“So ... “ Sander started, looking at him.

“I broke up with Sebastian.” Robbe said and watched how he caught Sander off guard. He stayed quiet for a while, saying “oh” after a while.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“He’s my friend’s distant cousin and we - “ Robbe started but Sander interupped him.

“You don’t have to.”

Robbe shook his head. “No, no. You deserve to know. I want you to know.”

And after Sander mumbled a soft “okay” and nodded his head, Robbe started.

“You were right. I knew you were right but I was hoping that it would all go back to how it was before, our relationship, you know? But obviously it got worse and worse. It’s been going around like that for months but it got unbearable in the past few weeks.”

“When we met?” Robbe looked down.

“Yeah.”

“So it was mostly my fault then? I ruined your relationship?”

“No, no. It’s not true. You just opened my eyes. It was already ruined. Honestly, the whole thing was doomed before it even started, I was just too blind to see it.”

“It’s over now?”

“Yeah.”

He saw how Sander tried to hide his small smile and smiled himself and started to continue speaking.

“I wish it didn’t get to this and I know I should have listened to you. Even my friends didn’t like him and my mom but I didn’t listen to anybody. I guess I was so happy that I finally came out of the closet and I could be with a boy, fully open, that I didn’t notice all this toxic traits he had, or I just didn’t want to notice it. And I really wanted to just have a normal relationship and I also thought that I didn’t deserve something better than what I had and I - “

“You deserve the world, Robbe, and don’t let anybody make you believe that you don’t.” Sander stopped him to say this which made Robbe blush, ducked his head down. “You can tell me the rest tomorrow or whenever you want.” Robbe could feel that Sander was already looking at his face, but didn’t dare to look up. “You two are over and that’s what matters the most.” And after a while, he added a quiet “I missed you.” Robbe hated how far they away were sitting from each other.

Not waiting for a response, he bent over a little bit and saw that Robbe finished drinking his tea. He asked him before, when they got here, if he wanted to eat something but Robbe refused, only wanted to have a hot drink.

“I think it’s better for you to get some rest now.” He stood up and Robbe followed him when he started walking, trying to calm down his racing thoughts and heartbeat.

Following Sander, he took him to the hallway towards his room which Robbe already saw when he changed his clothes. The room that looked more like Sander than even Sander did.

The room that Robbe instantly fell in love with as soon as he laid his eyes on it.

Sander turned back towards him. “You take the bed and I will sleep on the couch, I’m gonna change the sheets for you.” As soon as the word left his mouth, Robbe’s mood and heart dropped.

“N-no it won’t be necessary. You don’t have to change them.”

I want to feel and smell your aura.

“You sure?”

Robbe nodded his head, he was more than sure about that.

“Okay then.” He walked Robbe to his room and stopped by the door and looked at him while Robbe was still standing there, hesitating to go in, looking at the door intensely like it did something to offend him.

“Sander.” He whispered, his voice already on the edge of breaking, didn’t dare to look at him.

“I’m here, I’m listening.” The way his voice was so soft, so gentle, afraid of what Robbe was about to say and honestly, Robbe was afraid of that too but decided to go for it, decided that bottling stuff up wasn’t the way to lives anymore, decided to say what he wanted.

“Can you stay with me?” He whispered so quietly that he barely heard his own self but when Sander’s expression changed as soon as he heard those words, he knew, Sander heard it too.

“Robbe.” He started, the tone of his voice careful, rethinking what to say.

“No, please. Can you lay with me?” His voice broke at the very end, couldn’t control his self.

Sander sighed and looked away, making Robbe’s stomach drop on the floor.

“Robbe, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” He said softly, afraid of what reaction the boy would have.

Robbe nodded his head, his eyes getting wet but didn’t dare to show it.

“Yeah, okay. You’re right.” He said and walked in the room without looking back.

But he managed to hear Sander’s weak whisper. “In another universe, I’d stay.”

May 17. 03:03

Sander couldn’t sleep, he tried but he couldn’t so he gave up. He knew he’d have to stay up for the whole night. His mind going wild, coming up with new scenarios and scenarios, didn’t know how he should feel. He was happy that Robbe ended things with this jerk, but he was also sad about what kind of situation he had to see Robbe just a few hours ago.

He was devastated about how much that horrible boy messed him up, how many lies he fed him, made him believe that he wasn’t worthy of anything good in life. He has no idea what happened between them but it must have been so bad that Robbe decided to end things with him for real this time after so many failed tries. He also couldn’t think nor sleep because he knew, Robbe was here, in his house, in his room, just a few feet away from him and he has never felt more close and far away from him at the same time.

The past week has been one of the hardest he has ever had to go through. He thought that he lost Robbe for good when his phone stayed silent for days. He even consider texting him again, telling him that it was okay if he didn’t want anything to do with him, beg him to come back to him and he’d take all the pain, all the torture, just to see him again, just to be close to him again, he didn’t care about anything else now, but the part of his self which was already hurting and didn’t need any more pain won, he stayed selfish and hope that it would make Robbe realize the truth and it kind of worked. He’d see how Robbe was active on the Instagram, check his profile again and again, trying to fill the voice inside him by doing this but it was doing the worst.

Noor tried to take his mind away and made him have fun but it didn’t work, nothing could get him to stop thinking about the boy who was sleeping on his bed right now.

He didn’t know what to feel when he saw that Robbe texted him, happiness at first, doubt next, and when he found that he wasn’t well, worry. The anxiousness creeping inside him, unable to let him go.

And after seeing him like this, he’s sure, the part of him died but he felt closer than ever to him, saw that he needed help too. And maybe, just maybe, they could heal and help each other together.

He didn’t even know what time it was but he was still wide awake when he heard footsteps.

Robbe walked slowly, probably afraid of waking Sander up and he gasped a little bit when Sander asked “can’t sleep?”

“No.” Robbe walked up to him, Sander could feel. And when he felt the weight press down on the couch, his heart started beating fast.

“W-what? What are you doing?” He asked nervously but stayed quiet when he felt Robbe laid down next to him, touching him on every part of his body.

For a long time, both of them were quiet until Robbe spoke up, hot air coming out of his mouth, touching pleasantly on Sander’s skin, creating goosebumps all over him.

“I don’t want to be alone. I can’t.” And he put his arms around him, put his head on his chest, entwining their legs together. Sander was sure he stopped breathing, couldn’t move, still processing what was happening.

“Please, don’t let me be alone.” And as if these words had some kind of trigger and effect on Sander, he tighten his grip on him, pulling him close, kissing his forehead.

“Never.” He could feel Robbe’s breathing on his chest, slow and steady but still fast somehow.

“Never again.”

May 17. 10:21

As soon as Robbe woke up, he was met with the fresh smell of breakfast which was served right next to the coffee table, by the couch they slept on last night. His eyes went wide, and he looked around.

He saw Sander sitting on the other side of the couch, with a sketch book in his hands, on his lap. He looked up when he saw Robbe moved his head up and smiled at him. “Good morning, beautiful boy.”

“I-is this for me?” He asked.

“What?” And when he saw how Robbe was staring at the food, he realized.

“Oh, breakfast? Of course. I hope you will like it. I’m not the best chef but I try.” And he gave him the most amazing and cheeky smile Robbe has even seen, showing off his dimples.

“You made it for me?” He still couldn’t hide his surprise and amazement and Sander noticed too.

“Yeah?” He said as if he was saying the word “duh” and Robbe felt a weird sensation about how this was not a big deal to Sander at all.

“Why?”

Sander looked at him like he was dumb.

“So you could eat? What kind of questions do you have?” Robbe looked at the food again, sitting on the table and he felt so much happiness radiating on his body.

Sander made the breakfast for him, while he was asleep so he could eat as soon as he woke up.

Nobody has even made him breakfast.

He was sure he’d cry if he was alone just because of this.

“Did you eat already?” He asked.

“No, I wanted to wait so we could eat together.”

Robbe is sure, whatever he was feeling must have been his heart, melting away.

They started eating together but the peace didn’t last long when Robbe accidentally dropped his fork on the ground.

His eyes went wide. “Shit, shit. I’m so sorry. I swear I will clean up, wait.” and he stand up and started pacing around.

Sander looking at his panic like he grown a second head.

“Hey, it’s okay. Relax. It’s nothing.”

“No, I made a mess, I can’t do anything right, I’m sorry, I will - “ but he was stopped when Sander put his hands on his cheeks, made him stop and look him in the eyes.

“It’s fine, Robbe. It’s nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

It took a little more convincing but in the end, Sander managed to calm him down and make him realize over what he was getting anxious about. And they finished their breakfast calmly after that, until Sander saw something on Robbe’s wrist that made his jaw clenched, but he tried to control his self.

“Can I see your hand?” Robbe looked at him confusingly.

“My hand?” He looked down and his eyes went wide, seeing a few purple and yellow bruises on his wrist.

Sander didn’t wait for a response and took his hand in his own slowly and softly, observing it.

“Did he - “ he started but didn’t finish, it was already obvious and it got confirmed when Robbe stayed quiet.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growled.

“It’s alright. He must have put a little too force on it when I tried to walk away.”

“No, it’s not alright. Has he ever done something like this before?” He asked and Robbe shook his head.

“No, he never used - yeah, he hasn’t.”

What Sander did next was so unexpected, he took his hand close to his face and kissed his bruises. Robbe swallowed. And when Sander put it down, he gave him a look that Robbe couldn’t quite understand, a look filled with something so pure and unique, his legs started shaking.

“Robbe.”

“Hm?”

“Did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“That you want to be with me?”

“I mean it but “ Sander’s expression totally changed at the last word.

“But?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to be with somebody right now.” Sander breathed out, relived and smiled at him.

“I will wait for you, no matter how long it will take. Didn’t I tell you that you’d be worth the wait? Just tell me that it will happen in the end.” He took a step closer to him, looked deep into Robbe’s eyes. “Just tell me that we will happen.” Robbe got lost in his eyes, forgot to answer, forgot to think, forgot to breath.

“We’ll happen.”

Sander smiled at him. “Then you have nothing to worry about. I’m here and I will always be here alright?”

Robbe couldn’t help but ask with a shaky voice. “You promise?”

“I do. I promise and you know how much I hate breaking promises.”

A special and huge thanks goes out to @cleocc for helping me plan this chapter and talking to me about it.

Chapter 23

[trash-but-respectable-trash]

No time to die (angst one shot, Diavolo x F!MC)

Based on Billie Eilish song “No time to die”

(So I deleted the first version I posted by accident and like I dumbass I hadn’t saved it anywhere, so I tried for like 2 hours to find it somehow, but to no use. I was really sad because it took me hours to write it and I really liked how it turned out, but I don’t want this story to go to waste, because I really liked it and I have ideas for a continuation with Diavolo’s POV. So sorry if you already read it, but this version will be a bit different since I’m starting from scratch and I have no reference to how I wrote the first version. I hope you all enjoy anyway!)

Part 2 is up!

-

You should’ve known something wasn’t right. You should’ve known that this was too good to be true. You knew of his title and what he was, a demon, but you still decided to ignore it.

You should’ve known something was up when Diavolo started spending a lot more time with you than any other exchange student. He would always asked questions about you and your life in the human world. You should’ve known there was more to it than politness when Diavolo suggested for you to stay at his castle one night, when a friendly tea afternoon turned out to end much later than you anticipated. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but usually Barbatos would walk you home when it was too dangerous for you to walk back home alone.

You definitely should’ve known when you had your first time together. Diavolo had kissed you like you were an animated object. It felt animalistic, almost robotic, he wasn’t making love to you, that’s for sure. Right after he was done, he left pretending that he had paperwork to do and he did the same thing every other time after that.

You thought it was because of his nature, demons do not know how to love, at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

Diavolo would bring you everywhere and acted like a perfect gentleman in public. He would show you the most beautiful places in the Devildom and would present you to the most influential people in the Devildom even calling you his princess in front of everyone. That was how he made you feel in public, like a princess. But once you were both being closed doors he would act like he didn’t care about you. Sure, he would ask you questions about the human world from time to time, but you never felt like he truly wanted to get to know you past the basic information about yourself.

Everyone tried to warn you in one way or another. Solomon once told you to be careful around demons, that they cannot be trusted: “We humans, have to look out for each other.” As for the angels, Simeon simply told you that: “Demons aren’t made to love humans, they’re made to hate them.” You thought you would be the one to change that fact, how foolish of you.

You remembered the way the brothers would look at each other every time you said you were spending the day or night at Diavolo’s castle. They wanted to warned you, but they knew they couldn’t or else they would all be in danger. So they would simply told you to be careful. You thought they were simply jealous, but now you know better.

When you finally learned the truth, you couldn’t help but think about all the warnings and red flags you got during the last few months.

It’s not like Diavolo wanted to torture you or make you his concubine, not it wasn’t anything like that.

You learned of Diavolo’s true intentions by accident. You were waiting for him in his office because you knew this would be the first place he would go to once he got home. His desk was a mess, so you decided to clean it a bit before his return. Most of the papers scattered across his desk were student reports, but one letter in particular caught your attention. It was handwritten and started with: “Dear father”. Your curiosity got the better of you and you started to read the letter.

“Dear father,

Everything is going as planned. The exchange program is going wonderfully. The last time I wrote to you, I mentioned one of the exchange student, MC. She is a human like Solomon but she does not have the same magical power as him. I think she is in love with me, but I am only acting like I am in love with her too so she can trust me.

She is the key of my plan to rule over the three realms. With the information I am getting from her about the human world, it will be easier for me to take it over, especially with her on my side. I also needed her to trust me so she can tell the future exchange students of how wonderful her year was here with us, demons. I will put my plan into action once I get the trust of the Celestial Realm as well. She will be of great use for this as well, since the angels will see how happy she is here and how protected she is.

Do not worry father, as I will continue your legacy and make you proud of me. Nothing will stop me and as for now, everything is going as I planned. The next step for me will be to marry her, like you told me once, marriage and love are two different things. I need to think of what is best for our kind.

Your son,

Diavolo.”

A single tear fell onto the letter before you heard Diavolo’s footsteps approaching his office doors. You quickly put the letter back to his original place on his desk and sat on his office chair like nothing happened.

There were only three weeks left to the exchange program when you found the letter, so you acted like nothing was wrong for the remaining of the exchange program. You faked smiles and made it seemed like you were still madly in love with Diavolo. Two can play that game. You spent so little time alone with him that he didn’t notice anything.

-

You were finally on your last day of the student exchange program.

You told Diavolo earlier that morning that you had found the letter to his father on his desk and that you knew of his true intentions now. You thought he would lock you in his castle to prevent you from leaving the Devildom or maybe even kill you, but he did nothing of the sort. To your surprise, he had let you go without a fight. After all, you were of no use to him if you didn’t trust him.

-

You decided to sing one last song before you left the Devildom forever. Not for Diavolo, but for yourself.

You took your place on the stage. You were now in front of all of your friends, the brothers, your classmates, the other exchange students, Barbatos and Diavolo.

-

You were wearing an elegant black dress that Asmodeus bought you a couple months ago. He spent all afternoon doing your hair and makeup. You barely talked, which was very unusual for the both of you, but Asmo knew what you just went through and what this day and this song in particular meant to you so he didn’t talk, focusing on his task instead.

You had told the brothers about Diavolo’s plan that same morning. They all knew something was wrong in some way, but they never could’ve guessed what was Diavolo’s true plan. They all apologized to you for not being there to protect you.

-

The music started to play as you waited for you queue to start singing.

I should've known

I'd leave alone

You should’ve known you would leave the Devildom alone. You should’ve known that this was just all a dream that you would have to wake up from one day to face the truth. That you were nothing more than a pawn in Diavolo’s game of chess and that the only outcome possible was for you to leave the Devildom alone with your broken heart.

We were a pair

But I saw you there

Too much to bear

You were my life

But life is far away from fair

You dedicated yourself to a man who didn’t care for you, who didn’t love you. It was truly painful to accept the truth. He may have hurt you once, but you promised yourself this would be the last time he would ever hurt you.

Was I stupid to love you?

Was I reckless to help?

Was it obvious to everybody else

That I'd fallen for a lie?

You couldn’t help but think of how stupid you’d been. So naive to think that the prince of hell himself would actually fall in love with you. At first you were mad at yourself but also at the brothers. Why did they let you live in this fantasy filled with lies? Especially Lucifer, you thought you guys were close after what you had done to help his family get closer.

But then you remembered that Lucifer was bound to Diavolo and even if he knew what was Diavolo’s plan all along, he couldn’t tell you or you, his brothers and himself would all be in danger.

-

So, while you were now singing in front of your formal classmates, the brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Luke, Barbatos and Diavolo particularly, you never felt so hurt, but so powerful.

This was your swan song, the last time most of them would ever saw you again, would ever heard your voice again. You wish it would’ve gone completely differently, but you weren’t safe anymore in the Devildom. No one could protect you here, not the brothers or even the angels.

You could tell some of them were crying, knowing full well they let you down, but this was your own decision for once. You weren’t blinded by lies and by the glamorous life Diavolo offered you outside of his castle, anymore.

You were never on my side

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Diavolo may had fooled you once, but you knew the truth now and you would never be fooled again. You would prove to him that you were more than a fragile human he could play with and use to his own advantage.

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

You wanted to cry so badly, but you didn’t want to give Diavolo the satisfaction of seeing what he had done to you. So, you swallowed your tears and put on a strong face.

I let it burn

You're no longer my concern

Faces from my past return

Another lesson yet to learn

“You’re no longer my concern” this was a hard one for you, because at this exact moment, you realized that you didn’t care for Diavolo anymore. Sure, he had broken your heart and hurt you pride, but you were stronger than that now, stronger than ever before. You looked at him while singing these words and you could tell that he was uncomfortable by the look on his face and the way he was squirming in his seat.

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

No time to die

No time to die

You were almost at the end of the song when you realized you weren’t looking at Diavolo anymore. You were now looking at your true friends, the brothers, Solomon, Simeon and Luke. Your experience in the Devildom might not have ended the way you expected but you wanted to leave it with a good memory.

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

The song had ended and now Diavolo was nothing more than the past. At the last second before you left the stage to find your true friends, you turned to Diavolo once last time and said: "I would’ve told you to burn in hell but fortunately, that’s already where you are.” You immediately turned around again, without letting him enough time to speak or to react to what you just said.

After that, everyone returned to the House of Lamentation, everyone expect for Diavolo who went back to his castle alone.

You all said your goodbyes while Barbatos was standing awkwardly in a corner of the room.

After a while, Barbatos told all of you that it was now time to leave.

The first one to leave were the angels. You thanked them for what they did for you during the exchange program and made them swear they would come see you in the human world. You could tell that Barbatos was growing impatient, but you didn’t care.

You finally let the angels go when Barbatos opened a portal leading to the Celestial Realm and with one last goodbye, the two angels stepped into it.

Next was you and Solomon. Barbatos opened another portal, this one leading to the human world. You took Solomon’s hand before turning your head towards the brothers. They were now all crying, which also made you cried. You told them one last time that you loved them all, before turning back towards Solomon and said: “Let’s go home.” as you both walked into the portal.

-

You’ve been back to the human world for about a month now. It wasn’t easy at first adjusting to your old life. It would be a lie to say you didn’t think about him once in a while, but it didn’t hurt as much anymore. The main reason for that was that you had the help of Solomon who you’d spent a lot of time with.

You were also grateful for the brothers who all took turns to come see you in the human world. You got closer to them and it made you think about what would’ve happened if you didn’t fell for Diavolo. Would you have fallen for one of the brothers instead?

Oh well, you can’t rewrite history and you might still be a foolish human, but you were now a foolish human surrounded by people who truly loved you.

~

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

There will be a part 2 to this with Diavolo’s perspective after MC’s gone. It will probably be dark, I just don’t know how dark I want it to be yet.

[tl-trashwrites]

time may heal all wounds, but it doesnt do shit for memories.

i thought ive said all there is to say about you. well this isnt about you. but just the idea of you. the idea of us. the idea of being wanted by someone. ive said a lot about it. haven't thought much about it since you broke me. not just my heart but all of me. a part of who i am left in that shitty motel in salem, oregon. its been so long ive lost count of the years. i might have been 22. or 23. i dont know that it matters. what does matter is that you ruined me a lot more than i ever realized. and i dont know what to do with that information. because i think a part of me thought i'd uncovered all the damage you left behind. but the part i didnt know was there was the "what if". you know the thing you do when the person you love broke your heart. you dream of the "what if" they hadn't and you'd stayed together. or "what if" they said i love you back. i never did that. i couldnt let myself think or feel those pains. you said it was over and then i let the damn across my lips break loose and spilled every secret that had piled up in my esophagus over the 18 months we were hooking up. and at the end of it all just when i thought i'd said all there was to say. i still tried to get you to love me. but instead you cried. you sobbed harder than i did. in fact. i hardly shed a tear. but your head fell onto my shoulder, all 6'8" of you hunched over onto my 5'5" form. and i held you while you cried. my hands in your newly cut hair. fiddling with the curls at the base of your hairline. you'd just cut it that day. it felt a lot like samson and delilah. you cut your hair the day you left me after not having cut your hair in years. i didnt even have the time to enjoy it. just a few moments, comforting you. when you were the one that broke me. that sums it up for us though doesnt it. you hurt me and i end up comforting you. and then you stopped crying suddenly. and it was like nothing happened at all. i still dont know what it was i said that brought you to tears. the only time i ever saw you cry the entire time i knew you too. and then we were driving in your car. an hour and a half to the airport in silence. didnt even get there until 2am. i couldnt bring myself to think about the amount of debt i racked up just that night, chaning the flight, paying for the hotel, god knows what else. and i stayed up all night long. and i deleted every single picture on my phone that reminded me of you. of us. i have nothing left. i was a fool to think that it would even erase one memory of you. theyre all still here in my head. rusted and collecting cobwebs in the darkest corner. but 7 years later and im still pouring out my heart to you. words you'll never hear. i think what scares me the most is that if i was given the chance to do it again right now. if you said you wanted me even a little bit. i'd probably say yes.

[veliseraptor]

a kindness you can’t afford

[READ ON AO3]

Written for the anon prompt above, originally tried to post it as a response to an ask, then Tumblr fucked up all my formatting and I deleted the post, forgetting that I cannot just recreate an anon ask. Anyway! It’s a fic! It’s for an idea that I’ve been meaning to write eventually and ended up doing for this!

I wrote more rambly notes the first time I made this post but it’s probably for the best they’re gone. Thanks to @ameliarating​ for edits, as always, and to the Tumblr user who kindly indulged my request for “Chinese obscenities that could pass for a name.” The one Xue Yang uses here is literally “chrysanthemum” but also “anus.” This may be anachronistic, but I’m going with it.

content warnings: none, actually?? I don’t think??? other than, you know, the knowledge that this ain’t going anywhere good

What Xue Yang thought when the first sword went in was motherfucker finally did it.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it coming. He’d known for a while that sooner or later Jin Guangyao would decide he’d outlived his usefulness and try to get rid of him, or else Xue Yang would decide he was done playing Jin Guangyao’s game and cut out his tongue to feed it to him. And then kill him.

Until then he’d just figured he’d enjoy the luxury of Lianfang-zun’s boundless resources, access to the Yiling Laozu’s notes, and willingness to provide Xue Yang with the opportunity to experiment.

But with the old man dead, and Chifeng-zun in pieces, he’d figured that probably sooner rather than later Jin Guangyao would decide he was too much of a security risk and not enough of an asset to keep alive. Jin Guangyao still beat him to the punch. And he didn’t even have the courtesy to do it himself.

Bastard.

The Jin assholes cut him up pretty bad before he managed to get away; least he managed to make sure at least three of them wouldn’t walk away, and a fourth was going to be down a hand. So that was something, even if he was bleeding pretty badly, feeling it in the cold heaviness of his limbs and the spinning of his head. The wound in his leg was the worst, cutting deep into the thigh.

There was a distinct possibility that he was well and truly fucked.

Well, he thought when his body finally gave out and all he could do was slither into the grass on the side of the road so he wasn’t quite so exposed, it’d been a pretty good run, all things considered. Still sucked, and he would’ve really liked to show Jin Guangyao the color of his own intestines right about now, but you couldn’t get everything you wanted.

It wasn’t the death he’d imagined for himself. But it was better than some he could’ve anticipated. Hopefully he’d make a nasty fierce ghost and could go torment Lianfang-fucking-zun for backstabbing him.

Even if that was exactly what he’d expected him to do.

Xue Yang fought losing consciousness for a while, but there was only so long he could hold out before his body surrendered for him.

**

He didn’t expect to wake up alive.

When he did, still fucking hurting and with someone touching his face, at first he was just too tired and sore to try to move like he should, still feeling wrung out and half-dead and figuring maybe playing helpless would be better than trying something when he didn’t have the strength to back it up. Then his vision cleared a little and he recognized who he was looking at.

You, he thought, eyes widening in alarm, and tried immediately to scramble back regardless of the fact that his body screamed furiously at him, because some random stranger who was either trying to help or trying to loot his body was one thing, but Xiao Xingchen-

Who was assuring him that he wasn’t going to hurt him. That he didn’t mean him any harm, and was just trying to tend his wounds.

There was a white bandage over his eyes.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

Well, Xue Yang thought, staring at him. Well, well, well.

We’re fated to meet again, he’d said, years ago, but he hadn’t figured for it being like this.

You aren’t going to ask me my name? he asked warily, and Xiao Xingchen smiled at him, utterly clueless, and said I have my own things I’d rather not talk about.

Fucking shit. Unbelievable. The blind idiot, just taking in someone he’d found on the side of the road who he knew nothing about, not asking any questions, tending his wounds…

Xue Yang had never believed much in good fortune. Not for himself, anyway. But this opportunity just getting dropped in his lap, and when he needed it most-

It certainly seemed to qualify.

Good. Fucking fantastic.

He could work with this.

**

He could work with this.

There was something funny about the girl with Xiao Xingchen - a-Qing, or whatever her name was. At first he’d thought she was just pretending to be blind, which would’ve been a problem, but she seemed to really not be able to see. She certainly wasn’t a threat of any other kind. A nuisance, it was becoming clear, and for whatever reason she didn’t like him, but she wasn’t actually dangerous.

And Xiao Xingchen... Xiao Xingchen would be dangerous, was dangerous, but he was also blind, and nice, and didn’t ask questions. Xue Yang had worked out a whole story, an elaborate lie he’d use, but Xiao Xingchen hadn’t asked. He nursed Xue Yang, helpless and useless, like he was a friend.

Motherfucking idiot.

At least it was serving him well. Xiao Xingchen took good care of him. Perfectly solicitous. Admonishing him when he tried to get up and walk too soon. You’ll make it worse, he said, with that sugar-sweet smile. Be careful with yourself. If you want to heal cleanly you need to rest.

It was all working great, absolutely perfect, he couldn’t’ve asked for better.

It wasn’t going to last.

It couldn’t, obviously. Xiao Xingchen would get sick of this magnanimous act and kick him out, or he’d figure out who Xue Yang was somehow and one of them would have to die. There was always a flip side, a catch, a trap, and that it hadn’t shown itself here yet just meant it hadn’t shown itself yet.

It would, sooner or later, and Xue Yang just had to be ready for it.

It’d be easier to feel ready for it if he could stand for longer than half a joss stick without feeling like he was going to collapse. His leg hurt like hell all the time and while he was clawing his way back to his usual strength, as far as he was concerned it couldn’t happen fast enough. It was fine, though. For now, he was safe. For now.

If he kept telling himself that maybe he’d stop feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

At least it gave him plenty of uninterrupted time to watch Xiao Xingchen. He was nice. He was patient. He didn’t raise his voice or lose his temper, as far as Xue Yang could tell. He was so impossibly, infuriatingly good and it couldn’t possibly be real.

“What is it?” Xiao Xingchen asked, and Xue Yang realized he’d been staring at him for a while, congee forgotten and getting cold.

“Nothing,” Xue Yang said quickly, and then narrowed his eyes and said, “you’ve got something on your face, by your nose. Big smudge of dirt.”

“Oh,” Xiao Xingchen said, and laughed a little. “Thank you for telling me. I can’t exactly check in a mirror.”

That was something Xue Yang found very interesting. It wasn’t Xiao Xingchen he’d blinded, and yet here he was. He hadn’t asked any questions about it, but he did wonder what he’d missed while he’d been working on rediscovering the secrets of demonic cultivation and creating a fierce corpse for Jin Guangyao.

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said, and then on a whim, “here, let me help you get it off.”

A-Qing scowled at him. “Xiao-daozhang can clean his own face, asshole.”

“A-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said, and then smiled at Xue Yang. “She is right, though. I don’t need the help.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xue Yang said. “Whatever. Come on, it’s bugging me.” He got up and limped over, dropping down next to him and reaching out, using his sleeve to scrub at an imaginary smudge. Xiao Xingchen reached up and caught his arm, but he didn’t knock him away, and he didn’t seem angry. His grip was firm but not hard; Xue Yang just kept himself from yanking violently away or lashing out.

“Stranger,” Xiao Xingchen said, “Please. I can attend my own appearance.”

Xue Yang pulled back slowly. He glanced at a-Qing, who seemed smug, and then back at Xiao Xingchen, and held up his hands.

“All right,” he said. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Xiao Xingchen said. He smiled, the expression warm and fuck, he really was intolerable. “But it should be clear that even though I am blind, I’m not helpless.”

“Guess that’s obvious,” Xue Yang said after a brief pause. “If anyone’s helpless here it’s me. I’m the one you had to scrape up off the side of the road, huh?”

That made Xiao Xingchen laugh. For some reason Xue Yang found that sort of satisfying; for some reason a-Qing glared at him.

“You’re not funny,” a-Qing said.

“Daozhang thinks I’m funny,” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen shook his head, but he was smiling again.

Too easy. Blind - literally - fool. It suddenly seemed sort of amazing that he’d stayed alive this long.

At least it was working in Xue Yang’s favor. He’d be ready for when that changed, but for now-

He could enjoy it, for now.

**

The smart thing to do would be to kill Xiao Xingchen before he put two and two together and came up with Xue Yang.

He’d do the girl too, obviously, but Xiao Xingchen was the one who could really hurt him. He might be playing nice now but Xue Yang had fought him before. He knew what he could do. He wasn’t going to assume that his being blind had changed that much. The way he moved mostly hadn’t. He didn’t use a stick like a-Qing, anyway.

So, yeah. The smart thing to do.

He still hadn’t done it. Mostly because the smart thing to do was sometimes also the boring thing to do, and Xue Yang would take not boring over stupid most of the time.

“So when are you gonna leave, anyway,” a-Qing asked loudly.

“Dunno,” Xue Yang said. “Every time you ask me that it gets further away.”

A-Qing scowled at him. “Why are you even still here? Do you like living in a coffin home?”

“Maybe I do,” Xue Yang said. “Maybe I’m not even alive. Maybe I’m a really animate fierce corpse. Like the Ghost General.” He thought of Wen Ning, briefly, chained up with nails in his head. Absolutely useless. Completely uncontrollable, which had really been just the most disappointing. “You wouldn’t know, would you?”

For a moment a-Qing looked a little uncertain. Then she scowled harder. “Daozhang would know. Obviously.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” a-Qing said firmly. “Besides, fierce corpses don’t bleed.”

“How do you know,” Xue Yang said. “Met a lot of fierce corpses?”

“Have you?”

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “I killed one once.” Its name was Nie Mingjue and its head is probably still in Lianfang-zun’s treasure room. He leaned back on his hands, flexing his leg and wincing at the pain that shot up into his hip. Fuck Lianfang-zun and his entire fucking life.

A-Qing shook her head. “You’re lying.”

Xue Yang shrugged one shoulder. “Believe what you want,” he said. “Doesn’t make any difference to me.”

He heard Xiao Xingchen’s footsteps a moment before he appeared and turned toward him, tensing reflexively and then scowling when that hurt, too. “What are you talking about?”

“Daozhang, do fierce corpses bleed?” a-Qing asked. Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows rose a little.

“No. Not like living people do, anyway.”

“I knew you were lying,” a-Qing said to Xue Yang. “This asshole says he killed a fierce corpse, but he didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know. I said you wouldn’t.” Xue Yang grinned at her. “If you’re going to call me names you could at least be more creative, Little Blind.”

Xiao Xingchen shook his head. “Why would you lie about such a thing, Stranger?” he asked.

“Came up when I was telling Little Blind how I’m a fierce corpse myself,” Xue Yang said.

“Don’t call me that,” a-Qing said. Xiao Xingchen seemed startled for a moment, and then smiled a little.

“I see,” he said.

“Well,” Xue Yang said. “You don’t, actually.”

A-Qing looked furious, but Xiao Xingchen let out a bright and full-throated laugh, like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Xue Yang blinked. He hadn’t really thought about saying it, and if he had he’d’ve thought Xiao Xingchen would be touchy about it. But he was smiling, and still chuckling a little, when he said, “no, I suppose not. Perhaps you have us both fooled, though I suspect my sword would know.”

Xue Yang’s ears pricked. “What do you mean?”

Xiao Xingchen set down the basket of groceries he was holding and paused, seeming to be thinking. “My sword, Shuanghua,” he said. “It is able to sense resentful energy, and thus direct me toward beings like ghosts or demons. Or, presumably, fierce corpses. It is how I can still go night hunting.”

“Huh,” Xue Yang said. That was interesting. And he had sort of wondered. He hadn’t heard of anything like that before.

He wondered suddenly how discriminating Xiao Xingchen’s sword was. Did it detect any amount of resentful energy? Or type, or concentration?

Xue Yang tucked that question away for later. It wasn’t important right now.

“How is your leg today, Stranger?”

“Fine,” Xue Yang said. Lied. “Are you just going to keep calling me ‘Stranger’? You could just pick a name and go with it. Or guess. Or use a different name every time you talk to me.”

Xiao Xingchen smiled again, obviously amused. “Or,” a-Qing said, “you could just say what you’re called. Why won’t you, anyway?”

“A-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said. “Sometimes a man’s history is his own business.”

Wasn’t that a nice idea, Xue Yang thought. He doubted Xiao Xingchen would still say that if he knew who he was harboring.

“Yeah, all right,” Xue Yang said. “I’ll tell you my name.”

A-Qing looked suspicious. “What is it?”

“Ju Hua,” he said. Xiao Xingchen let out a strangled sound, like a laugh disguised by a fake cough. A-Qing recoiled, her face crinkling up in disgust.

“You’re disgusting,” she said.

“Hey,” Xue Yang said. “It’s rude to make fun of peoples’ names,” but he started cackling a second later, hard enough it hurt his cracked ribs. A-Qing got to her feet and flounced off, taking a swing at his head with her stick he was sure was deliberate.

Xue Yang grinned at Xiao Xingchen, who still looked like he was trying not to laugh. “You shouldn’t tease her,” he said.

“She can take it,” Xue Yang said easily. The turn of Xiao Xingchen’s mouth and the set of his eyebrows was reproachful, though both offset by the amusement that was still there.

“You still shouldn’t.”

“Ah, Daozhang,” Xue Yang said, dragging out the second syllable. “Ruining all my fun.”

Xiao Xingchen’s expression faltered for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, and Xue Yang realized that his voice had slipped, a little. He held his breath, tensing, waiting, something almost eager jumping in his stomach.

Here it comes.

Then Xiao Xingchen shook himself and let out a faint laugh, though it sounded a little weak. “I know,” he said. “I’m merciless.”

Xue Yang pictured Xiao Xingchen as he’d seen him first, almost glowing in white, a pinched expression of displeasure on his face. He would’ve seen Xue Yang executed. Not done it himself - couldn’t get those pure robes dirty - but still. He thought merciless wasn’t as far off the mark as Xiao Xingchen probably believed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Absolutely. Those vegetables you bought don’t stand a chance.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed again, and smiled, and Xue Yang blinked at him, something funny twisting in his chest under his heart.

You know I’m going to kill you someday, he thought. Not yet, but I’m gonna do it. And I’ll make sure you’ll know how I tricked you, how stupid you were, when I do.

**

Xue Yang usually slept pretty well, if lightly. He’d learned the trick of it - a need to wring rest out of the hours he got when it was safe, but the ability to wake up fast when he needed to. Usually he could get through the night without waking up, and if he dreamed, he never remembered them.

At first he wasn’t sure what had woken him up this time, just that between one moment and the next he was awake, wide awake with his senses shrilling an alarm, something wrong. His heartbeat picked up and he started to reach for Jiangzai only to stop himself.

Then he heard it: quiet but still audible through thin walls. A soft, distressed sound from Xiao Xingchen’s room.

He held very still, waiting until he heard another. A whimper, almost. Quiet and pathetic, wounded animal. He rose, slowly, on quiet feet, and walked as silently as he could while still limping, out of his room and into Xiao Xingchen’s.

He was lying there on the bed, under a thin blanket that was now tangled around his body. One of his arms was flung outwards, his head turned to the side, face crumpled in a frown. There were red stains on the white bandages over his missing eyes. His chest rose and fell unevenly and too quickly.

As he stood there, watching, Xiao Xingchen made another sound, one of pain, and Xue Yang almost felt it in his chest, in his gut. He took a step forward, and another, and another, until he was standing right next to the bed and looking down at Xiao Xingchen, lips parted, in the grip of a nightmare, so vulnerable, so beautiful in his suffering.

What was he dreaming about? Losing his eyes?

Maybe he’s dreaming about me, Xue Yang thought, and had to bite down on a laugh.

He could see the big vein in Xiao Xingchen’s throat throbbing with his rapid pulse. It’d be so easy. He could draw his knife and plunge it in in less than a second. He could slide it between his ribs and up into his heart. He could slice him open like a pig and pull his guts out through the gash. It’d be quick. Or it wouldn’t, and he’d make Xiao Xingchen scream before he died.

Xue Yang cocked his head to the side and thought about it. What it’d look like. How it’d feel.

He pressed his tongue to his teeth and thought about licking Xiao Xingchen’s blood off his fingers.

His body snapped taut at a sleepy, “Daozhang?” and he moved immediately, dropping down into a crouch next to the bed and reaching out to give Xiao Xingchen’s shoulder a gentle shake.

“Daozhang,” he said, pitching his voice low but gentle. “Xiao Xingchen, wake up.”

Xiao Xingchen was a cultivator. He woke up quickly too, with a sharp inhale. “What,” he said, and Xue Yang let go of him quickly in case he lashed out.

“What’s going on?” a-Qing asked behind him, voice clearer. “I heard noises.”

“Your Daozhang was having a bad dream,” Xue Yang said. “I was just waking him up.”

Xiao Xingchen’s lips pressed together. “I’m sorry for waking both of you,” he said, and his voice sounded - not shaky, exactly, but shaken, and subdued. “I’m all right. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Thanks for the permission,” Xue Yang said. “But I’m good.”

“A-Qing…”

“I’m good, too,” she said stubbornly, but Xue Yang heard her yawn.

“You’re young,” Xiao Xingchen said. He sounded exhausted. It was so - human. Which of course he was, flesh and blood just like the rest of them, but there was still something sort of weird about hearing it. “You need your rest.”

“But-”

“You heard him, Little Blind,” Xue Yang said. “Go to bed. Your coffin’s going to get cold.”

“But-”

“A-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said, and after a moment she made a disgruntled, frustrated noise and shuffled out. There was a brief silence, and then Xiao Xingchen said, “you, too.”

“Nah,” Xue Yang said. “Like I said, I’m good.”

Xiao Xingchen reached up to his face and touched the bandage, then stiffened with a sharp breath in and turned his face away. “Oh,” he said. “I-”

Shame, Xue Yang thought, with a little thrill. He was ashamed. Of the blood, or what it meant? How it revealed what he so carefully covered up?

“Looks like you need a fresh bandage,” he said, carefully matter-of-fact. Xiao Xingchen turned his face further away.

“I’ll - take care of it.”

“Want help?”

“No,” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice sharp, and then quickly added, softer, “thank you. And...thank you for waking me.”

Xue Yang shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

Which it was. He hadn’t done anything. Wasn’t doing anything. Wasn’t going to kill him. It’d be too easy, he decided, doing it when he was sleeping. He wouldn’t know. Xue Yang wanted him to know.

Xiao Xingchen took a long, deep breath. “I’m all right. Really.”

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said. “I know. Want to go for a walk?”

If Xiao Xingchen had eyes, Xue Yang thought he’d be staring at him. “What?”

“A walk,” Xue Yang said. “You know. That thing you do outside sometimes.”

Xiao Xingchen didn’t laugh. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Not like it makes a difference to you, does it?” Xue Yang said. “I do it sometimes. Helps clear my head.” He stood up and stretched. “Up to you. But I think I’ll go regardless. And who knows what’ll happen if I’m out there on my own.”

“Your injuries-”

“Doesn’t have to be a long walk.”

Xiao Xingchen was quiet for a while. Then he said, “all right. I need to get dressed.”

“Great,” Xue Yang said with a grin. “See you outside.”

He put on his robe and went out, stretching his arms overhead and looking up at the sky, the stars. The moon.

Now why, he thought, had he done that? Xiao Xingchen’s nightmares were none of his concern.

It was sort of funny, though, wasn’t it? Comforting him. Helping him. It’d twist the knife harder when he eventually found out. Make it cut deeper. Maybe he’d cry, blood tears running down his cheeks, and Xue Yang would trace them with his finger, lick it clean. Xiao Xingchen, he’d say. Looks like you need a fresh bandage.

**

“You know your roof is leaking,” Xue Yang said. Xiao Xingchen sighed.

“I’m aware,” he said.

“Just making sure,” Xue Yang said.

“I keep meaning to fix it,” Xiao Xingchen said.

“Daozhang,” Xue Yang said with exaggerated patience, “meaning to fix it doesn’t mean fuck if you don’t just do it. That’s like saying-”

He cut off before he said that’s like saying you’re going to kill someone and not following through.

“Like saying what?”

“Like saying you’re going to go night hunting and then sitting at home on your ass,” Xue Yang said.

“Are you calling Daozhang lazy?” a-Qing said. “You’re the lazy one here. Useless.” Xue Yang’s face dropped into a scowl.

“You’ve really got a talent for interrupting conversations that don’t involve you,” he said. Xiao Xingchen frowned in his direction.

“Our guest is just pointing out that I should have done something about the roof leak before now,” Xiao Xingchen said. “And he is right.”

“Course I am,” Xue Yang said. “I’m right about a lot of things.”

A-Qing snorted. “Yeah,” she said. “Name one.”

You’re an ugly little brat who ought to get slapped. “Xiao-daozhang is the most beautiful cultivator in the world,” he said. Xiao Xingchen’s face went red. A-Qing scowled.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said. “So I’d just have to take your word for it.”

“It’s not true,” Xiao Xingchen protested. “Our guest is just teasing.”

Xue Yang shrugged. “One against one, Daozhang. Too bad we don’t have a tie breaker.”

Xiao Xingchen’s face was still flushed bright. Like he’d been slapped, all the blood right under the skin, and Xue Yang wondered if his skin would feel hot if he touched it. If he’d bleed faster if he cut into his cheek.

He’d started to think maybe he shouldn’t kill Xiao Xingchen after all. It might actually be better to leave him alive. Dead people couldn’t suffer like living ones.

He leaned back on his hands. His leg was feeling better these days. His other wounds were well on the way to healing. He could probably leave, if he wanted to. Slip out in the middle of the night.

Maybe he’d cut a-Qing’s throat to leave a message. That’d probably hurt Xiao Xingchen worse than anything Xue Yang could do to him.

It was an idea. He tucked it away for consideration.

“Anyway,” he said. “You should definitely do it before winter or Little Blind will freeze to death.”

“Why don’t you do it,” a-Qing said loudly.

“What’ll you pay me for it? I don’t do that kind of work for free.”

A-Qing scowled harder. “You’re eating our food and sleeping in our house,” she said. “Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“A-Qing,” Xiao Xingchen said, “our guest is still injured. You wouldn’t want him to aggravate his injuries further.”

“Says who,” a-Qing muttered under her breath. Xiao Xingchen seemed to pretend not to hear.

“I’ll get some supplies tomorrow,” he said. “It is starting to get colder. But don’t worry about helping, Stranger. I can manage.” He gave Xue Yang a horribly gentle smile. Why are you like this, Xue Yang thought angrily.

Yeah. He wouldn’t kill Xiao Xingchen at all. Just cut up his face so he couldn’t smile like that anymore. He wouldn’t even know how awful he looked until people started recoiling from him in horror, exclaiming with disgust.

Yeah. That was an idea. Kill a-Qing and ruin that pretty face.

He’d get around to it before winter, once he was fully healed, and find someplace nice and warm to set up in for the cold months. No reason to stay in this miserable dead city when there was a whole world to explore.

**

Xiao Xingchen did not have any idea how to patch a roof.

Xue Yang ended up mostly doing it for him.

**

There was an itch under Xue Yang’s skin, in his bones. He didn’t know why, exactly. He just got like this sometimes, tense and restless and jumpy and he didn’t like it. Usually he dealt with it in one of two ways: killing someone or fucking someone. Or both.

He hadn’t killed anyone yet today, but he was thinking about it. It’d probably be a-Qing. She was getting on his last nerve, and he kept thinking if he killed her quick and quiet and dumped her body in the river Xiao Xingchen would never need to know.

Though why it’d matter if Xiao Xingchen knew was another matter.

He didn’t think he’d really kill a-Qing either, though. Maybe one of the merchants in the market. The one who’d tried to sell them half-rotted turnips. He’d deserve it. Yeah. Him. He’d make a good target.

Itch, itch, itch. Fuck. He was going to crawl out of his skin if he didn’t-

“Stranger?”

Xue Yang whirled around, knife in hand, and just checked the movement before he put it through Xiao Xingchen’s neck. Or, he would’ve checked it, but Xiao Xingchen caught his arm first.

Xue Yang froze. His body coiled tight, ready for the retaliation. Briefly, he wanted to laugh. The first time he really got close to stabbing Xiao Xingchen since waking up here and it hadn’t even been on purpose.

Xiao Xingchen felt down Xue Yang’s arm to his hand, his fingers wrapped around the knife. Least it wasn’t his left. He paused for a moment, then let go and stepped back.

“I startled you,” he said.

Xue Yang blinked. “I was thinking about something else,” he said cautiously.

“Apparently so,” Xiao Xingchen said. He smiled, barely, and bowed. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re - for what?”

“Startling you,” Xiao Xingchen said. Xue Yang stared at him.

“I almost stabbed you,” he blurted out, and then grimaced.

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said. “But you didn’t. I suppose this might be a different conversation if you had.” His voice was still even, calm. Xue Yang stared at him harder, hating the confusion that was starting to overtake the itch for violence.

“Probably wouldn’t be a conversation,” he said, before he meant to. Xiao Xingchen smiled a little.

“I suppose not,” Xiao Xingchen said. “A good thing I have quick reflexes.” He paused, the smile fading. “Stranger...I know that you have...a history. That there are shadows in it you don’t want to discuss. For all your good humor, you are tense, and watchful, and wary. A man - a cultivator - does not end up on the side of a road in your condition without having made dangerous enemies.”

Xue Yang opened his mouth, then closed it, getting tenser by the second. He still had his knife in hand, but Xiao Xingchen had shown he could catch him, and while Shuanghua wouldn’t be able to sense him the way it did ghosts and the like-

“Whatever you might have done,” Xiao Xingchen said, his voice quiet and serious, “it doesn’t matter now.”

Xue Yang’s voice was locked in his throat. Speechless. He wasn’t speechless very often. There was a laugh in there, too, thinking wildly really, is that really true, Xiao Xingchen, would you still say that if I told you my name-

“Pretty generous of you, Daozhang,” he said. “I might’ve done anything.”

“Perhaps,” Xiao Xingchen said. “But you have not done anything to me, or to a-Qing, or to the people here.”

Not yet, anyway, was his first thought, and then oh. Oh, that was rich, that was hilarious, that was-

He felt sort of weird, suddenly. Not sick, and nothing was hurting, just - weird. Off-balance. The itch was completely gone now, leaving something else in its wake that he couldn’t quite pin down.

“Xiao-daozhang,” he started to say, and then stopped. Xiao Xingchen gave him a small smile.

“Most people, I think, have shadows in their pasts,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I am not a magistrate. I would rather not act as one.”

Xue Yang thought of Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan’s eagerness to deliver him to justice, and wanted to laugh. But only for a moment.

He sucked on his teeth. Cocked his head to the side.

“Call me Chengmei,” he said. And waited. Waited to see any sign of recognition, of memory, of understanding.

Xiao Xingchen smiled, slightly. “Chengmei,” he said. “Thank you.”

Xue Yang huffed a laugh. “For what?”

“For telling me your name.”

Huh. Xue Yang wanted to laugh, would’ve laughed, did laugh, a little. “That’s not telling you much, Xiao-daozhang. It’s just a name. It might not even be my real one.”

“I know,” Xiao Xingchen said. He didn’t reach out, just smiled that warm smile that Xue Yang hated, that set off that strange and twisting feeling like a worm winding through his insides. Nobody had made that face at him before. Not like that. “But at least now I don’t have to call you ‘Stranger.’”

“You still could, if you wanted,” Xue Yang said, which made Xiao Xingchen laugh. Everything made him laugh. He had a stupid sense of humor, Xue Yang was starting to realize.

Such an idiot.

Xiao Xingchen gave him one last smile and went back inside. Xue Yang looked after him, eyes narrowed.

He should’ve gone by now, probably. He was getting comfortable, and comfortable was dangerous.

But he had a good thing going, here. And he could end it whenever he wanted. The second he got sick of this game, he could finish it, and Xiao Xingchen, too.

There was no reason to hurry, though. No rush.

And he had some ideas for how to keep things fun.

He had time.

[out-of-jams]

Rea’s Writing Tips

Okay, I’ve been writing for the past twelve years, and over the course of this time, I’ve learned a lot of things. I still am learning, because I don’t think there is a such thing as perfecting a skill. What have I learned, might you ask? Well, I’m going to compile some of them into a list for you! So buckle up and sharpen those metaphorical pencils!

#1) Show don’t tell.

This is a staple rule when it comes to writing and always, always stays at the back of my mind. When you’re writing descriptions or world building or even putting together a dialogue scene, you want the reader to be able to see it in their minds’ eye. 

If you simply say, “I picked up the pencil. Then I wrote my paper, but I didn’t know I was doing. And then I got up and left.” That’s boring. And that’s Telling the reader what is happening. No one wants to read through a bulleted list of what your characters are up to. Keep in mind that you’re writing a story, not a kitchen recipe. 

So instead, use descriptions and answer these questions: What is your character thinking when they’re doing these things? What are they writing? Why are they writing it? What else is going on around them? What does it smell like? Is it hot or cold? Can they hear the air conditioner running? Are there other people in the room, if so, what are they doing? 

An example of Showing would be something along the lines of: “The pencil was heavy in my hand as I dragged it across the sheet of paper. Hopefully the teacher wouldn’t be be able to tell that I was completely bullshitting every word because I couldn’t afford to be docked another letter grade. Whatever. I’d just write what I could and hope for the best.” 

Show what’s happening without being obvious about it.

Don’t bore your readers to death with a laundry list.

#2) There is absolutely no need to go crazy with caps lock and punctuation.

When writing dialogue, if your character is shouting something, don’t put it in all caps. For example:

“I said, DON’T TOUCH THAT!

This not only takes away from the seriousness of the scene, but it also doesn’t look very appealing to read, does it? Instead, try playing around with italics or adjectives/verbs/descriptions/show don’t tell. For example:

“I said, don’t touch that!”

“Don’t.” You spat through gritted teeth, fingernails digging half-moons into your palms. “Touch. That.”

Not only does this look more professional and appealing, but it helps the reader to visualize the scene a lot more than just going crazy with the caps lock. This also goes with overusing punctuation. One question mark, or one exclamation point is all you need to get your point across. There’s no need for more, the readers will understand without them, I promise. 

The crazier you go, the crazier you’ll look!!!??!!!

#3) Writers block isn’t because you don’t know what to write next. It’s because you subconsciously don’t like where your story is going.

You’ve experienced writers block. I’ve experienced writers block. That old lady at the supermarket down the street has experienced writers block. It’s not the end of the world, but it does put a damper on things, doesn’t it? You could be on a roll and spawning out 1000 words per minute and then bam! you hit a block. Where do you go from there? How do you overcome it? 

Simple. Delete a few paragraphs and then try again. Still not working? Delete more. And more. Until you find another route to take. 

Remember, sometimes roads close, you just need to find the detour.

#4) The rule of “why.”

A simple word can help you to build a word, a story, a universe, a character. The rule of “why” is what keeps your metaphorical world turning and helps prevent plot-holes. Say you have a character who is a painter. Ask yourself, why are they a painter? Why do they paint the things that they do? 

These questions will help you fall down the proverbial rabbit hole and into the subconscious of the character that you are creating. Okay, so they paint because their mother was a painter and she died. Why did she die? Why does the character feel the need to take up their mother’s torch? 

This also goes for world building too. Oh, so your character has a soulmate in your universe? Why do they have a soulmate? Why does the world work that way? Does everyone have a soulmate? No, why not? Etc. 

Always keep the question why? in the back of your mind and you’ll be able to answer the reader’s questions before they even think to have them.

#5) Pick a tense and stick to it as if your life depends on it.

Your story will either be in past tense, or present tense (excluding future because no. And the complicated past perfect, present perfect shit. We’re making it simple).  

Reading a sentence that says: “I walk to the door to leave, but bend down to grab my purse. The strap slid down my shoulder as I closed the door behind me” is jarring. Why? Because it is set in both past and present tense. The first sentence is present tense, while the second is past tense. If you aren’t sure what tense a word is in, pop that bad boy into google and it’ll let you know.

You can’t have both at the same time. So pick one, you whore. 

#6) Be the sponge.

It’s taken me twelve years to find my writing voice. Twelve, people. Some people may find it sooner, others later. Whatever side of the spectrum you’re on, don’t stress over it. I found my voice through reading. What about some author’s work did I like? What did I not like? It took some time, but I figured it out. And you’ll find yours too. So play around with different styles and figure out what you like. 

And what you hate.

#7) Become the angst.

How the hell are you supposed to properly write emotions? How can you make a reader cry, laugh, fume with anger, hold their breath in fear? The answer is actually quite simple.

Insert yourself into that frame of mind first. 

If you want to write a scene that is sad and you want people to be able to feel the emotion flying off the page, then become sad. Put yourself in the shoes of your character and write from the heart. If pretending to put a smile on your face in real life doesn’t fool your friends, then it won’t fool your readers either. 

I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of times I’ve put myself into a certain frame of mind or emotion before writing a scene or a fic or whatever. Music helps to set the mood too. I mean, look at your favorite actors. One thing I’ve always been taught in acting classes is that you have to feel the emotions that your character does.

If you feel it, I can guarantee that the readers will too.

#8) Take a breath, damnit!

Have you ever read a sentence so long that you felt out of breath, even though it wasn’t even read aloud? Yeah, me too. Sometimes it’s hard to know when to end a sentence and start anew or whether or not to just throw in that comma and call it a day, well there is a very simple, easy way to be able to tell which one of these you need to do and you just need to follow this rule in order to do it.

You just took a deep breath after reading that sentence, didn’t you?

Comma ≠ an excuse to continue a run-on sentence. If you aren’t sure whether or not you’ve just written one of these, read it aloud. If you have to stop to breathe, then throw a period somewhere in there. Starting a new sentence won’t hurt you. But a run-on sentence will surely kill you from asphyxiation.

~~~~~~~

This is all I have for now. But if you guys have any questions or want advice for specific things, please feel free to reach out! To quote my least favorite movie of all time: we’re all in this together!💜

[samyistrying]

I just wanted to say, I read your fic 'curse of the sea', and I'm having alot of trouble commenting on ao3 so I thought I'd tell you here, that it's absolutely amazing. I love the way you describe mermaid Draco, like he's mesmerizing but also still dangerous. And Harry's 'Helper syndrome' *chef's kiss* hilarious.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! My heart... Glad you like it! 

And because you took the time to reach out, have a little deleted scene from Chapter 6 (I guess you could read this without context, it’s basically just fluff lmao)

AH and this is also for you @pauleonotis ;) (I did it! I wrote the scene omggg)

Drarry // Mermaid AU // 8th year // Fluff // Scroll for the German version

Tail-Touching

"Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?"

Harry lifted his head in surprise at Draco's question and examined the blond in detail. "What do you mean?"

"Your staring."

Harry remained silent and let his gaze wander again over the surface of the pool, under which he could clearly see the iridescent fishtail, which he truly enjoyed watching. "Not really."

Draco snorted, pulled himself along the edge of the pool, closer to Harry, who dangled his legs carelessly into the water. Harry tried hard not to make a sound. Draco was no fool, he would see what was going on inside Harry much too soon anyway. He could still blame his nervous reactions to Draco's touch on the surprise effect, but at some point even that wouldn’t be enough to explain himself.

But that night, it would still be enough, so Harry allowed his leg to tense up as soon as Draco laid a hand on it to hold on to Harry. But he suppressed the gasp, that would take things too far. 

"Do you want to touch it?"

Harry raised one eyebrow but didn’t dare to look into the silver glowing eyes, instead he devoted all his attention to Draco's hand on his leg. "Are you serious?"

Harry's cheeks burned just at the thought of it. He had thought too often about how Draco's fishtail would feel, how the shimmering scales would react to his touch, but he would never have thought of expressing his interest out loud. It felt too intimate, almost forbidden.

"No, I offered, because I would rather die than let you touch me," Draco replied, clawing his sharp nails, or rather claws, tighter into Harry's trousers leg. "Potter, don't be stupid!"

"I'm not stupid," Harry protested, staring defiantly into Draco's face. "It's just weird," he added, more quietly.

"Bloody weird." Draco sounded bitter, maybe even hurt, the two emotions went hand in hand in the Slytherin anyway.

Harry bit his lip to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing. He could hardly confess now how much he was consumed to accept Draco's offer. Then he might as well admit that Draco was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and that went too far. Way too far.

"I - uhm, I'd still like to... Well, uhm - yes." Harry’s mind smacked himself while his last bit of self-respect disappeared into thin air. God, why why was he so insecure? It was Draco. Just Draco.

Very well. It was Draco in his mer-creature form, who could compete with a predator on one hand, and on the other, was truly the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. And then there was the life-threatening situation Draco found himself in and, oh right, Harry's feelings and body, which simply betrayed his mind and reacted so clearly to the blond that it was downright ridiculous. Perhaps his insecurity was understandable after all.

"Come on, then." Draco's voice had no right, no right at all, to sound so seductive. But Harry didn’t complain, allowing Draco to grab his wrist and then almost gently pulling him from the edge of the pool into the water.

Looking at Draco's face, Harry forgot to notice that his clothes were getting wet, forgot to think about since when the pool in the Prefects’ Bathroom had been so deep and even forgot to breathe for a moment. But he caught himself as soon as Draco let go of his wrist. Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap!

A smile plucked at Draco's lips before he lowered himself backwards and dived under. Harry's heart skipped a beat. A blue-silver shadow ghostly passed close to his hip and disappeared towards the middle of the pool where the water was deepest. Not sure exactly what to do now, Harry stared stunned at the shadow for a few seconds, but then he made up his mind and took a deep breath.

It was easy to glide through the water, diving along the bottom of the pool. The engaging silence and warmth swallowed him up, but all his attention was focused on the glow. Draco's glow. Draco.

Draco moved under water as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He seemed relaxed, as if the peace and quiet here was the best remedy for everything that went wrong at the moment. And then there was this elegance. The elegance with which he had been blessed as a human, but in this form, it became tangible.

Harry's eyes fell on the fishtail, it was so close by now that he could probably have touched it if he had stretched out his hand, but a pull in his stomach prevented him from doing so. Fuck, that really felt too intimate. But slowly, curiosity took over.

With one last look at Draco, who was clearly too amused watching him and floated effortlessly on one spot in the water, Harry decided to do justice to a Gryffindor.

With a few skillful breaststrokes, Harry swam around Draco until he stopped behind him. Then he stretched out his fingers and touched the scattered scales on Draco's shoulder blades. This wasn’t new, he had done it before, yet it was as fascinating as the first time. The glow under his fingers, the tingling sensation that ran through his entire body... truly bloody fascinating.

Draco had tilted his head to one side and was watching Harry closely, but wasn't moving. No, he just let himself be touched. Allowed Harry's fingers to slide deeper down, along his back, down to his waist and then right and left to his hips where there was hardly any skin left between all those scales.

Harry paused. It was all a bit much and he just wanted to take a deep breath but then he felt Draco put his own hands on Harry’s and forgot that he was supposed to be panicking.

Guided by Draco's hands, his fingers glided feather-light down, along the bluish scales that turned silver under his touch. The fishtail felt powerful, like snakeskin, but better. Somehow smooth, but also silky and soft. Harry couldn't get rid of the feeling that whatever was happening to him was completely indescribable and the realization made his thoughts woozy.

Everything was suddenly woozy. Everything became foggy, the feeling of dizziness overcame him. The silence of the water became overwhelming, Harry's chest began to hurt. Darkness overpowered him. And then he felt fingers reaching for his wrist and barely a moment later Harry emerged from the water panting.

"Salazar, Potter! Remember to breathe!"

And breath Harry did. Very hectic and uncontrolled, because he had truly forgotten the need for oxygen and his lungs had some catching up to do.

"Why are you so..."

"Shut up, Malfoy! I-" Harry interrupted the Slytherin, who scornfully scrutinized Harry and surely had something to say about his suicidal tendencies.

"I-" Harry started again, but was held back by his too fast breath, so instead Harry reached straight for Draco's shoulder to hold on to. Draco only raised an eyebrow, he didn't seem to mind the extra weight. Of course the bastard didn't mind.

"You...?" Draco interjected helpfully.

"I was distracted!" By you. I was distracted by your bloody beauty. Harry could barely keep himself from shouting the truth out into the world.

"Flattering, Potter. I never knew I was so breathtaking!" Draco's lips curled into a smug grin that said he definitely knew he was absolutely ravishing.

Harry just rolled his eyes; he finally had his breath under control again and was clearly too tired for Draco's teasing. An answer was denied him anyway, as Draco already broke loose from his grip and turned away from him.

"Last one on the edge of the pool is a rotten egg!”

Harry groaned and watched Draco disappear beneath the surface of the water. Fairness was an alien concept for The Little Mermaid, but somehow Harry would probably be able to get used to it. With a sigh, Harry set about losing the race.

~~~

German version:

„Findest du das nicht ein wenig albern?“

Harry hob überrascht den Kopf auf Dracos Frage hin und musterte den Blonden eingehend. „Was meinst du?“

„Dein Starren.“

Harry schwieg und ließ seinen Blick wieder über die Wasseroberfläche des Pools gleiten, unter der er deutlich den schillernden Fischschwanz erkennen konnte, den er wahrhaftig gerne beobachtete. „Nicht wirklich.“

Draco schnaubte, zog sich am Beckenrand entlang, näher auf Harry zu, der seine Beine unbedacht ins Wasser baumeln ließ. Harry gab sich Mühe jetzt bloß keinen Laut von sich zu geben. Draco war nicht dämlich, er würde ohnehin viel zu schnell erkennen, was in Harry vor sich ging. Noch konnte er seine nervösen Reaktionen auf Dracos Berührungen hin auf den Überraschungseffekt schieben, aber irgendwann würde selbst das nicht mehr genügen, sich zu erklären.

Aber in dieser Nacht würde es noch genügen, also ließ Harry zu, dass sich sein Bein anspannte, kaum legte Draco eine Hand darauf, um sich an Harry festzuhalten. Das Keuchen unterdrückte er jedoch, das war zu viel des Guten.

„Willst du ihn anfassen?“

Harry hob eine Augenbraue, wagte es jedoch nicht in die silber-leuchtenden Augen zu blicken, stattdessen widmete er Dracos Hand auf seinem Bein seine gesamte Aufmerksamkeit. „Ist das dein Ernst?“

Harrys Wangen brannten alleine beim Gedanken daran. Er hatte zu oft darüber nachgedacht, wie sich Dracos Fischschwanz wohl anfühlen würde, wie die schimmernden Schuppen auf seine Berührung reagieren würden, doch er wäre niemals auf die Idee gekommen sein Interesse laut auszusprechen. Es fühlte sich zu intim an, fast schon verboten.

„Nein, ich habe es angeboten, weil ich eher sterben würde, als mich von dir anfassen zu lassen“, gab Draco zurück und krallte seine scharfen Nägel, wohl eher Klauen, fester in Harrys Hosenbein. „Potter, sei nicht dumm!“

„Ich bin nicht dumm!“, protestierte Harry und blickte Draco herausfordernd ins Gesicht. „Ist nur merkwürdig“, fügte er etwas leiser noch hinzu.

„Wahnsinnig merkwürdig.“ Draco klang bitter, vielleicht auch verletzt, die beiden Emotionen gingen ohnehin Hand in Hand bei dem Slytherin.

Harry biss sich auf die Lippe, um ja nichts Falsches zu sagen. Er konnte jetzt ja schlecht gestehen, wie sehr er sich danach verzehrte Dracos Angebot anzunehmen. Dann könnte er nämlich gleich zugeben, dass Draco wahrscheinlich das Schönste war, was er je zu Gesicht bekommen hatte und das ging zu weit. Viel zu weit.

„Ich- Ich, ähm, würde es trotzdem gerne… Also, ähm… Ja.“ Harry Verstand knallte Harry gerade eine, während sich sein letztes bisschen Selbstrespekt in Luft auflöste. Gott, warum warum war er so unsicher? Es war Draco. Nur Draco.

Nun gut. Es war Draco in seiner Meerwesen-Form, die einerseits einem Raubtier Konkurrenz machen konnte und andererseits wirklich das Schönste war, was Harry je zu Gesicht bekommen hatte. Und dann war da noch die lebensbedrohliche Situation, in der sich Draco befand und, ach ja, Harrys Gefühle und Körper, die seinen Verstand einfach betrogen und so eindeutig auf den Blonden reagierten, dass es fast lächerlich war. Vielleicht war seine Unsicherheit doch nachvollziehbar.

„Dann komm.“ Dracos Stimme hatte kein Recht, wirklich überhaupt kein Recht, so verführerisch zu klingen. Doch Harry beschwerte sich nicht, ließ zu, dass Draco eine Hand um sein Handgelenk legte und ihn dann fast schon sanft vom Beckenrand ins Wasser zog.

Den Blick auf Dracos Gesicht geheftet vergaß Harry zu bemerken, dass seine Klamotten nass wurden, vergaß sich darüber den Kopf zu zerbrechen, seit wann der Pool im Vertrauensschülerbad so tief war und vergaß sogar für einen kleinen Augenblick zu atmen. Doch er fing sich, kaum ließ Draco sein Handgelenk los. Heilige Scheiße, heilige Scheiße, heilige Scheiße!

Ein Lächeln zupfte an Dracos Lippen, bevor er sich nach hinten sinken ließ und untertauchte. Harrys Herz setzte einen Schlag aus. Ein blau-silberner Schatten geisterte dicht an seiner Hüfte vorbei und verschwand in Richtung Beckenmitte, wo das Wasser am tiefsten war. Nicht sicher, was genau er jetzt machen sollte, starrte Harry einige Sekunden nur perplex dem Schatten nach, doch dann besann er sich eines Besseren und holte tief Luft.

Es war einfach durch das Wasser zu gleiten, am Beckenboden entlang zu tauchen. Die einnehmende Stille und Wärme verschlangen ihn, doch seine gesamte Aufmerksamkeit galt dem Leuchten. Dracos Leuchten. Draco.

Draco bewegte sich wie selbstverständlich unter Wasser, er wirkte entspannt, als wäre die Ruhe hier das beste Heilmittel für alles, was momentan schief lief. Und dann war da diese Eleganz. Die Eleganz, mit der er schon als Mensch gesegnet worden war, doch in dieser Form wurde sie förmlich greifbar.

Harrys Blick fiel auf den Fischschwanz, er war mittlerweile so nah, dass er ihn wahrscheinlich hätte berühren können, wenn er seine Hand ausgestreckt hätte, aber ein Ziehen in seiner Magengegend hielt ihn davon ab. Fuck, das fühlte sich wirklich zu intim an. Doch so langsam nahm die Neugierde Überhand.

Mit einem letzten Blick auf Draco, der ihn deutlich zu amüsiert beobachtete und mühelos auf einer Stelle im Wasser trieb, entschied sich Harry einem Gryffindor gerecht zu werden.

Mit ein paar gekonnten Brustzügen schwamm Harry um Draco herum, bis er hinter ihm innehielt. Dann streckte er seine Finger aus und berührte die vereinzelten Schuppen auf Dracos Schulterblättern. Das war nicht neu, das hatte er bereits gemacht, dennoch war es ebenso faszinierend wie beim ersten Mal. Das Leuchten unter seinen Fingern, das Kribbeln, was seinen gesamten Körper durchzog… wahrlich verdammt faszinierend.

Draco hatte seinen Kopf zur Seite geneigt und beobachtete Harry genau, bewegte sich jedoch nicht. Nein, er ließ die Berührung einfach zu. Ließ zu, dass Harrys Finger immer tiefer glitten, seinen Rücken entlang, hinab zu seiner Taille und dann rechts und links zu seiner Hüfte, wo kaum noch Haut zwischen all den Schuppen zu finden war.

Harry hielt inne. Das war alles ein bisschen viel und eigentlich würde er gerne tief Luft holen, doch dann spürte er, wie Draco seine eigenen Hände auf Harrys legte und vergaß, dass er eigentlich gerade in Panik ausbrechen sollte.

Geleitet von Dracos Händen glitten seine Finger federleicht weiter hinab, die bläulichen Schuppen entlang, die sich unter der Berührung Silber färbten. Der Fischschwanz fühlte sich kraftvoll an, wie Schlangenleder, aber besser. Irgendwie glatt, aber auch seidig und weich. Harry wurde das Gefühl nicht los, dass, was auch immer ihm gerade passierte, völlig unbeschreiblich war und die Erkenntnis machte seine Gedanken wirr.

Alles war plötzlich wirr. Alles wurde neblig, das Gefühl von Schwindel überkam ihn. Die Stille des Wassers wurde erdrückend, Harrys Brust begann zu Schmerzen. Dunkelheit überwältigte ihn. Und dann spürte er Finger die nach seinem Handgelenk griffen und kaum ein Moment später tauchte Harry japsend aus dem Wasser auf.

„Bei Salazar, Potter! Atmen nicht vergessen!“

Und Atmen tat Harry. Sehr hektisch und unkontrolliert, weil er die Notwendigkeit von Sauerstoff wahrhaftig vergessen hatte und seine Lunge einiges nachzuholen hatte.

„Wie kann man nur so-?“

„Halt die Klappe, Malfoy! Ich-“, unterbrach Harry den Slytherin, der Harry spöttisch musterte und garantiert etwas über dessen selbstmörderische Züge zu sagen hatte.

„Ich-“, setzte Harry erneut an, doch wurde von seinem zu schnellen Atem aufgehalten, also griff Harry stattdessen geradewegs nach Dracos Schulter, um sich daran festzuhalten. Draco hob lediglich eine Augenbraue, ihm schien das zusätzliche Gewicht nichts auszumachen. Natürlich machte es dem Bastard nichts aus.

„Du…?“, warf Draco hilfreich ein.

„Ich war abgelenkt!“ Von dir. Ich war abgelenkt von deiner verfluchten Schönheit. Harry konnte sich gerade so davon abhalten die Wahrheit in die Welt hinaus zu schreien.

„Schmeichelhaft, Potter. Ich wusste nicht, dass ich so atemberaubend bin!“ Dracos Lippen verzogen sich zu einem selbstzufriedenen Grinsen, das aussagte, dass er definitiv wusste, dass er absolut hinreißend war.

Harry verdrehte nur die Augen, er hatte endlich seinen Atem wieder unter Kontrolle und war eindeutig zu müde für Dracos Sticheleien. Eine Antwort wurde ihm ohnehin verwehrt, da sich Draco schon von seinem Griff löste und sich von ihm abwandte.

„Wer zuerst am Beckenrand ist, hat gewonnen!“

Harry stöhnte und beobachtete wie Draco unter der Wasseroberfläche verschwand. Fairness war ein Fremdwort für die kleine Meerjungfrau, doch irgendwie würde sich Harry wohl damit anfreunden können. Mit einem Seufzen machte sich Harry daran das Wettrennen zu verlieren.

[lets-just-daydream]

Hiii can I please request Hanzo with a female s/o, his father is kinda evil and he tricked him to think that reader wanted to kill him or betrayed him in some kind of way? He started treating read badly (nothing violent) they broke up, and then his father confessed to him telling him that he manipulated him for the sake of the clan? Then Hanzo tries to make reader forgive him for what he did to her? ❤️ Thanks in advance!

Frick, I done goofed and deleted by accident. Request is above. I love angst so here we are with my first piece in yonks! I got a little carried away with this one lmao

*

You were perfection in the eyes of Hanzo Shimada. The first moment he laid eyes on you he thought he was dreaming. It was at a party hosted at Shimada Castle and you were there on behalf of your family to get into the good graces of the Shimada clan. You didn't know much about the politics but your family insisted that a "pretty young thing like you" would catch the eye of someone formidable. You hated to be a pawn but you had to do what was right by your family. 

You weren't sure why, but you had the feeling that you were strongly disliked by Sojiro Shimada, the leader of the clan. This made you uneasy and as a result, made the party an uncomfortable affair for you. 

However, you had been approached by Hanzo as you stood on the balcony alone, drink in hand and watching the party. 

"Enjoying the festivities?" he asked, leaning on the balcony beside you.

"Yes, mister Shimada," you quickly said, lowering your head and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "You have hosted a great party."

"There is no need for such formality when we are out here alone. Please, call me Hanzo," he insisted.

"Yes, Hanzo," you said, letting his name roll past your lips.

"And you would be?" Hanzo asked, taking your free hand and raising it to his lips.

You blushed and managed to stutter out your name. 

"A beautiful name," he complimented.

"Thank you," you said, blushing harder if that were even possible. Your hand was heated from the soft kiss from his lips and you nearly let out a pathetic noise of sadness as he lowered your hand.

"Won't you accompany me inside?" Hanzo asked, offering his arm to you.

You glanced at the party happening just beyond the doors and took Hanzo's arm with a nod.

"I'd love to."

You walked in together and most conversations died down as you entered, men looking at you questioningly, women looking at you with jealousy. But no person's expression matched that of Sojiro Shimada. His features were filled with displeasure and you avoided his gaze lest you perish to ashes right there and then.

"Come," Hanzo said as he guided you over to his family.

"Oh my god," you muttered under your breath.

"Don't worry," Hanzo chuckled. "You have nothing to fear."

'Right,' you thought to yourself as you finally found yourself standing before Hanzo's father, mother and brother. 

“Allow me to introduce this fine lady” Hanzo said, as he introduced you in turn to his father, mother and brother, Genji.

You couldn’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact with his father. You weren’t sure what it was but you still had the feeling that he didn’t like you at all. His gaze was cold and his stiff demeanor sent a chill down your spine.

"It's nice to meet you," Hanzo's mother said as she nodded her head.

"What are your intentions with my son?" came the abrupt voice of Hanzo's father.

"I- I-" you stammered. What? Why was he asking this? You just met Hanzo only a moment ago. "I'm-"

"Father we have only just met," Hanzo said, saving you from making a fool of yourself.

"Correct," you said.

Sojiro grabbed Hanzo by the elbow and pulled him away. 

"Excuse us," he said as Hanzo looked at him questioningly. 

"My father can be a bit… intense," Genji said, pulling you from your thoughts. "Come and dance with me until Hanzo comes back."

Meanwhile, Hanzo was in heated discussion with his father. He would much rather be dancing with you, though.

"You will not just find some… some random woman at this party. I have the perfect woman ready and waiting for you," Sojiro hissed.

"Father, I have told you many times," Hanzo said with a sigh. "I will not just go along with an arranged marriage."

"You will if you want to take over the clan after my time is done," Sojiro threatened.

"And if I don't?" Hanzo challenged. "What if I choose love over duty?"

"Then you are a fool," Sojiro spat. "I will not allow this. You were born into this family and you have a purpose you must fulfill. You are a smart man, Hanzo. Do not turn into what your brother has become. Letting women fall over for him and dishonoring this clan."

"Why must you always drag Genji into this?" Hanzo asked, exasperated. 

"Because I will not have both of my son's fail me. One is already one too many. Do not challenge me again, Hanzo." 

Sojiro straightened his suit jacket and patted Hanzo's shoulder. 

"I know you will make the correct decision."

Hanzo stood in the dark hallway, knowing that his idea of the correct decision was different to that of his father's. 

Hanzo didn't tell you about the conversation he and his father had that evening, but he did tell you that he liked you and wanted to pursue you. 

One day, you sat on a bench together under a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring morning. 

"Would you oppose to… dating me?" Hanzo asked with a gulp.

"Of course I would love to," you began. You wringed your fingers as you thought of what to say. "But I don't think your father would approve. I'm pretty sure that he doesn't like me."

"Nonsense," Hanzo said. "Who couldn't like you?"

You blushed. But while Hanzo's words were meant to comfort you, you were still uneasy. 

"I am an adult now," Hanzo said as he took your hands in his. "My father can insist and demand I live my life a certain way, but if it is at the cost of my happiness and a life with you, then I will pave my own path."

"Oh, Hanzo…" you breathed.  "This feels fast but it also- gosh it feels so cliché to say it… but this feels so right."

Hanzo chuckled at your admission.

"It does sound cliché, yes. But I think you're right about it feeling right. I want to pursue this with you."

At Hanzo's proclamation of feelings for you, you felt a comfort wash over you. You figured you could deal with Hanzo's father if he knew how you two felt about each other. What could be more pure than love? Who could want to destroy that? 

*

When you received a letter from the Shimada family, you were surprised. As you turned the fancy envelope over in your hands, you carefully opened it and took out the contents. It was a letter… from Sojiro Shimada. Your heart leapt into your throat.

"Dear Y/N,

The Shimada clan request the pleasure of your company to partake in their annual cocktail party. The event will be held at Shimada Castle on the first Friday of November, 7PM.

This occasion is a black tie event. The favor of an answer is requested no later than one week before the event. 

We look forward to seeing you there.

Sincerely,

Sojiro Shimada"

"Hmm," you hummed to yourself as you read the letter over and over again. Hanzo didn't mention anything to you about a dinner party. You decided to call him and ask him about the invitation. You pulled out your phone and dialled.

"Hello?" came Hanzo's voice through your phone.

"Hi Hanzo," you said with a smile. You couldn't help but smile like a moron every time you spoke to him.

"Hello, dearest. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm well."

"I am glad to hear it. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" he asked.

"I just received an invitation from your father," you said, staring at the letter in your hand.

"Ah yes, the annual dinner. We host one every year and I mentioned to my father that I would like to bring you to the dinner."

"And he agreed?" you asked, shocked. 

"I suppose he did," Hanzo said. You could hear the smile in his voice. "I think he is finally warming up to the idea of us." 

Your heart fluttered at the thought. 

"I'm so glad."

"Me too, blossom. I'm sorry but I have to go. I do hope that you will attend."

"Of course I will!" you said with a grin. 

"Perfect. Goodbye, then," Hanzo said, hanging up the phone. 

Looks like you had some shopping to do. 

You spent the following days going to various clothing, shoe and jewellery stores to put together the perfect outfit. You really wanted to take this opportunity to impress Hanzo's family and hopefully get on his father's good side.

When the night of the party finally rolled around, you dolled yourself up and tried your best to calm your nerves so you didn't get so nervous that you made a fool of yourself. This was not the night for that. 

When you arrived, Hanzo stood at the entrance gates to the castle, awaiting you.

"Hanzo," you greeted. "You didn't need to wait for me out here." 

"I know. But I wanted to enter the party with you. I want everybody to know that you are mine," he purred. 

"Oh," you breathed, your cheeks flushing red.

As you walked the grounds to get inside, you noticed a man staring at you. You avoided his gaze and pulled Hanzo along to get inside quicker. 

"Are you alright?" Hanzo asked. 

"Fine, just a little chilly," you said with an uncomfortable shudder. 

Hanzo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. You inhaled softly and noted that he smelled faintly of sake and expensive cologne. You finally arrived inside and Hanzo led you to the cocktail party which was in full swing. 

Sojiro noticed you arrive and walked over to greet you, a pleasant smile on his face. 

"How wonderful to see you, my dear," Sojiro said as he pulled you in for a hug. He also smelled of sake but it was more prominent than how Hanzo smelled. You wrinkled your nose slightly but embraced him. 

"Thank you for inviting me into your home again, mister Shimada," you thanked him.

"No need for such formalities," Sojiro said with an exaggerated wave. "It is quite obvious how you and Hanzo feel about each other and I feel as though this will blossom into something truly beautiful."

"So… so you approve of this, father?" Hanzo asked, surprised and delighted.

"Of course. My eldest son has shown an interest in a woman from a formidable family. Who am I to stop him?" he asked. 

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at his words and you finally relaxed. He waved you on and you and Hanzo entered the elegant party hall. Hanzo quickly excused himself and assured you he would be back quickly. 

You grabbed a drink from a nearby waiter and slowly walked around the room admiring the art, tapestries and plants that decorated the room in tasteful fashion. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came an unfamiliar voice next to you. 

You looked at the man who now stood next to you. You recognised him as the man outside as you entered the grounds.

"Yes," you said quickly, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as it had started. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I believe I've made you uncomfortable. I am the advisor of Master Shimada."

You relaxed at his words. At least he was someone you could trust. 

"Sorry for being so cold," you said. "I'm not usually trusting of strangers."

"Understandable. A woman as beautiful as yourself can never be too careful,” he said, a sincere smile spreading across his features.

You felt ashamed at the blush that flushed your cheeks. Why did this compliment send a flush through your body? It was nothing. It’s just nice to receive compliments from handsome gentlemen. But Hanzo was the only man who had your eye.

You watched as the advisor pulled his phone out of his pocket, read a message and suddenly turn to you. 

"Master Shimada has requested your presence. Will you please follow me?" he asked, extending his arm to you.

You looked around for Hanzo but you couldn't see him anywhere. You hesitated but he interrupted.

"We really mustn't keep him waiting." 

"Alright," you said, taking his arm and walking with him through a corridor, away from the party.

"Where are we going?" you asked nervously.

"Not far." 

You finally arrived in front of a door where you guessed Sojiro was waiting for you.

"What's this abou-" you began but you were cut off by his lips against yours.

You tried to push him off of you but you were wedged between the wall and his body. You struggled and pushed against him until you managed to bite his lip. He let out a cry and finally relented and let you go.

"What the hell?" you demanded, pushing him away from you. 

He touched his lip and noted the blood on his finger. 

"You don't know what you're getting into. Leave this place and forget this family before it's too late," he warned. 

You stood there, unsure of why this was happening to you. Why was it so difficult to live a normal life with the man you loved? You became overwhelmed and you ran. You ran through the snaking corridors, out of the castle and hailed the nearest taxi and went home. 

You cried the whole way home and cried as you finally arrived home and collapsed on your bed. You debated with yourself on what you should do. Should you call the police? What are they going to do to the most family in Japan? Could you tell Hanzo? What was he going to do? You just knew that this was at the hands of his father. 

The ringing of your phone shook you from your thoughts and you grabbed it. The caller ID notified you that it was Hanzo calling. You sighed; you didn't have the heart to talk to him right now. You hit decline and fell backwards onto your bed, crying and then finally falling asleep from exhaustion. 

You awoke the next morning with a sore face and a soft pounding in your head. You recalled the previous night and an uncomfortable weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You sighed and wandered off to have a shower and wonder about what on earth you were going to tell Hanzo about your behaviour last night. 

You finally finished and dressed and went for some tea and time to think. You were surprised to enter the living room and see Hanzo standing there. 

"Hanzo!" you exclaimed. You were shocked to see him here. 

"How are you?" he asked. But the usual warmth in his voice when he spoke to you wasn't there.

"I…" you began. You didn't know what to say. "I had a… rough night." 

"A rough night. Is that what you call it?" he asked, unimpressed.

"Where do I begin?" you asked. "Well, I was summoned-"

"I'm going to stop you there," Hanzo said, raising a hand. "If you can't admit to your actions and be honest, I do not want to hear it."

"What are you talking about?" you asked. "I'm telling the truth. Your father's advisor, he told me your father was looking for me and I followed him."

Hanzo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. You sensed his frustration and you had the feeling he didn't believe you.

"I thought my feelings for you were quite clear and reciprocated. But I see now that I was wrong," Hanzo said with a heavy sigh.

"That's not true," you said, voice wavering as tears welled in your eyes once again. "Hanzo, he led me away and…"

"So you admit it, you kissed him," Hanzo said, disgust in his voice.

"No, I-"

"No need to make up excuses," Hanzo said as he stepped forward and threw a handful of dark, grainy photographs onto your coffee table. 

You picked up a photo and studied it. It was a photo of you from last night, pinned against a wall lips locked with a man that wasn't Hanzo.

"This… this isn't what it looks like," you stammered.

"How can I believe you when you ran away last night without explanation. And then my father presents me with these photographs."

"Your father?" you gasped, pieces of the puzzle coming together. "Hanzo, your father did this on purpose!" 

Hanzo scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

"Trying to blame this on my father? Really?" 

"He forced himself on me! Why don't you believe me?" 

"This man has been loyal to my family for years. Do not insult my family in this way," Hanzo warned.

"Hanzo…"

"I was a fool for believing that you could love me as I love you," Hanzo said sadly. 

"No, don't say that," you pleaded. "I do love you. How can you not believe me?" 

"Do you hear yourself? You sound like you're in a dramatic soap opera," Hanzo said. "I wanted to give you the opportunity to be honest with me and tell me what happened."

"I'm telling the truth! Your father did this!" 

Hanzo gave you a stern look and after a tense moment of silence, he sighed. 

"Goodbye, blossom," he said sadly. He turned away and left, leaving without the photographs and with a broken heart.

*

"Hanzo!" Sojiro said as Hanzo arrived back home. "Did you have a productive morning?" 

"I do not wish to discuss it," Hanzo mumbled. 

Sojiro struggled to hide the obvious glee he was feeling, but he managed to keep a straight face. He watched as Hanzo shuffled slowly towards his room and finally let out a delighted laugh when he was alone again. 

Hanzo got to his room and flopped onto the bed, images of the photographs swimming in his vision. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He picked it up and noticed that it was you calling. He sighed and declined the call. He hoped he could get over you eventually, perhaps he should ask his father for advice. 

*

A couple of months had passed since the incident with Hanzo. You tried contacting him multiple times and he shot down every attempt until you finally gave up. There was no way you could convince him of the truth. 

As time went on, Hanzo's feelings for you dwindled and he didn't get the same pang of betrayal when he thought of you. That was the morning he approached his father. 

"Father," Hanzo said, gaining his attention. "I wish to uphold my duty to this family and find a wife."

Sojiro turned to his son with a smile and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"My son, you have made me very proud. I will rest easy knowing that you are making the correct decision. I know of the perfect woman for you."

"I would like to meet her," Hanzo said. 

"I will arrange it immediately."

Hanzo gave his father a nod and left the room. As he left, he noticed the advisor enter the room. Hanzo bit his lip and let his curiosity get the better of him. He crept up to the door, minding the creaks in the floor and pressed his ear to the door.

"It worked!" Hanzo heard his father say. "He has asked for a meeting with a potential bride."

"I am glad to hear of this news, master." 

"Now that we have Y/N out of the way, thanks to you, we can continue with the preparations," Sojiro continued.

Hanzo's heart dropped at the mention of your name. 

'Out of the way?' Hanzo thought to himself. 'What are they talking about?' 

Hanzo's heartbeat quickened as he continued listening.

"Had she just left before he caught feelings for her, we would have been further along," Sojiro said, frustrated. "But no matter, everything is going according to plan now." 

"Of course, master." 

"Is she a good kisser, at least?" he asked with a dark chuckle. 

"It would have been nicer if she didn't bite half my lip off." 

Hanzo gasped and stepped away from the door. His breathing quickened and he ran. He had to get to you and apologise. You were right all along and he didn't believe you. 

He got over to your house as quickly as possible and pounded on the door. He was surprised to see a man open the door instead of you.

"Who are you?" Hanzo asked abruptly, hoping that this was not what it looked like.

"I'd like to ask you the same question," the stranger said with a frown.

"Where is Y/N?" Hanzo asked. 

"Who?" 

"The girl who lives here, where is she?" Hanzo asked, impatient.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I live here by myself. I moved here a few weeks ago," he explained.

"Wh…" Hanzo started. "The girl who lived here, where did she go?" 

"I don't know, sorry," came the reply as he shut the door. 

Hanzo sighed frustratedly, slumping against the wall and sliding down it until he was seated on the pavement. He looked up to the sky in vain, wondering where on earth you could have gone. 

The sound of the front door opening caught his attention and he looked up at the man that stood there.

"Oh you're still here, good. This is a box of stuff that got left behind. Either she forgot about it or its trash. Could you take care of it?" he asked as he handed Hanzo a small box.

Hanzo peered inside the box and his heart shattered at the sight of small gifts he had given you during the time you were together. Knick knacks, letters, photographs and small bits and pieces. 

Tears welled in his eyes as he noticed the photographs taken of you on the night of the party. He studied them carefully and noticed your uncomfortable body language. He sniffed as he realised how much pain he must have put you through.

The sound of footsteps approaching stirred Hanzo from his thoughts and caught his attention. He looked up to see who was interrupting his moment.

"Hanzo?" you asked, shocked to see him sitting on the ground next to your old place. "What are you doing here?" 

"It's you!" Hanzo said, standing and walking towards you. "You're here."

"Yeah, I'm here collecting my mail," you stated. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I lost you forever," Hanzo said, pulling you in for a hug

"Umm…" you hesitated, pushing him away. "You're the one who broke up with me, remember?"

"You were right. You were right about my father orchestrating this."

"Oh, you believe me now, do you?" you asked, unimpressed and crossing your arms.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, for not believing you," Hanzo apologised. "I only found out what happened today. I overheard my father and the advisor talking." 

"Even if that's the case," you started. "Your father doesn't like me- which is why this whole mess started in the first place." 

"I don't care about what my father says," Hanzo promised. "I cannot lose you again. I haven't known love without you in my life." 

You bit your lip in frustration. You had finally moved on, literally and figuratively and now Hanzo was back, pulling you back in. 

"Please come back to me," Hanzo begged. 

Hanzo gently placed a hand to your cheek and caressed your skin, reveling in the feeling of being close to you again. 

"Hanzo…" you breathed.

"Please don't say no," he pleaded.

"I don't know," you whispered as your lips got dangerously close to his. 

He closed the gap and pressed his lips gently to yours. You sighed softly as his lips slid against yours in heated passion that spoke volumes of your absence over the past months. 

You pulled away too quickly for his liking and covered your mouth with your hands.

"We can't do this," you said. 

"Why not?" Hanzo asked, as if he were a child that had been denied ice-cream. 

"I… I don't know," you faltered. "After what happened, I don't know if I can go through this again."

"You won't have to go through anything," Hanzo said. "I know the truth now and I do not care what my father says, as foolish as it may sound."

"Hanzo…" you sighed.

"Please do not say my name that way," Hanzo begged. "I don't want to spend another moment without you."

"There's no way you're leaving without me, is there?" you finally asked. 

"No."

"Okay, good," you said. "I've been miserable without you and I cried for weeks over what happened," you admitted. 

"I am so sorry, my love," Hanzo apologised. "For everything." 

"It's not your fault," you consoled. "I probably would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"I was a fool for not believing you," Hanzo lamented.

"That doesn't matter now," you said. "We can start our future now, as long as you don't let your father get in the way of that."

"I won't," Hanzo said. "I promise."

[sunshinexlollipops]

Hello! Just wanted to stop by (hopefully not being a bother) and say I have recently just went through all of your red dead fics on ao3 and wow. I've gotten into a/b/o fics more after reading yours! But also your amidst fic made me feel all types of things, and I know however it ends will leave me messy with f e e l i n g s. And I want to prematurely thank you for those feelings xP. I was also wondering, if that's alright, how your writing process is like? You put in a lot of words in amidst and some of your other fics. Do you make outlines? Do you first write down ideas for a chapter/fic and then draft it out? Are there scenes you add/take out? Is there a length goal you usually set for yourself? You don't have to answer, but I wish you well and thank you for fics that brightened my life a little!

LONG POST!

omg, hello anon! your ask 100% got lost in my notifs, so I just wanna start this off by saying you aren't a bother whatsoever!

in fact: I love receiving asks about my fics, as well as opening up about the writing that takes to get them to you guys!

so I'm gonna start this reply off with a quick thank you about my works! I'm so happy you're enjoying or have enjoyed what I've written.

RDR2/Arthur Morgan is a pleasure to write about, but I've also really enjoyed the fandom. it's been one of the sweetest and most supportive, and I've found one of my best literary periods with you guys! so thank you! :>

but enough pitter patter about that-- let's get to the fun stuff!

since you had a few questions, I'm gonna answer these in a separated list so it'll be easy to follow along! :)

-------

What is your writing process like?

well, in truth anon, I don't exactly have much of one.

that may surprise some, and others not. in truth, I think that sometimes the idea or concept of a "writing process" kind of scares anyone trying to get into writing.

I'm not sure if you are, anon, but your questions just make me want to cover this, just in case.

writing should come to you how it comes. I'm definitely NOT a textbook writer. I don't have a method where I have cardinal rules and a set up I have to have.

I simply embrace when inspiration strikes. usually while listening to music or absorbing some other media. frankly, if you treat writing like a science, you're gonna get stuck. it isn't an issue you have to fix, or a challenge you have to tackle.

allow yourself to get comfortable and just think whatever comes your way mentally. even if you think an idea is bad, encourage it! you can't write if you don't let yourself think.

so for me, I suppose my "process" is just encouraging my writing and for my brain to pop out ideas or scenes. just write away and see where it takes you!

You use a lot of words-- do you outline by chance?

ah yes. I am a wordy potato, frankly. albeit ACW is an overall outlier at being ALMOST A MILLION WORDS. even then, I don't think any of my over fics have ever really gotten past 150k, and I believe only ONE had done so.

this was... not by design.

believe it or not, I intended ACW to actually be short. 6 chapters like the game and boom, done. I thought I could summarize everything and just show snippets of a growing relationship between Arthur and my unintentional OC, Wolf. it almost would've been like a one-shot just broken up into chapters for homage sake.

but then I overplotted the prologue and next thing I knew, ACW had become this massive, sprawling monster of a slow-burn.

as for outlines... I don't necessarily outline. I'll explain this more in my next response. :)

Do you write a summary of a chapter or fic down, then draft afterward?

so in terms of summary, no. these stories live in my head, and I tend to feel that writing things down is more of a waste of time for me.

my brain flies through stories at such quick speeds I feel like I will lose my spark or my ideas if I take a second to write things down.

I am known to do audio recordings where I talk about my writing though. this is an amazing way to brainstorm on the fly, and some of my best ideas have come from just voicing what I'd like to see happen aloud. additionally: the recordings are a good way to keep track of what I've said and want, just like an outline!

otherwise I don't outline. I'm not sure what the terminology is, but I apparently go after my stories a lot like Stephen King does.

write first, worry about the rest later. I'm very much a "swim and swim even if you're sinking" because I would rather put the work in than fool with floaties to keep myself up.

personally this works wonders for me, as I don't like restraining myself or my head once I'm in motion. it doesn't end well if I do-- like snuffing a candle. I just go for it and I will make sense of it later.

even so, I have general ideas for what I want to happen, and I remember my basic outlines. the details come later, as long as the big picture is visible to me.

as for ACW: the only "outlines" I did was timing of the game missions. just to make sure I didn't miss major happenings, and that I had the timing in a way that flowed for what I wanted both logically and narratively.

as for drafts, I also don't draft. again, I go for it. that being said, I have restarted updates a couple of times, or have deleted entire scenes out of dissatisfaction. most of the time though, it's one and done for me! and it's all done on the fly. :)

Are there scenes you add/remove?

as mentioned above, yes. I have deleted a lot of content from ACW. some ideas never came to, but more often than not, it was repackaged in a way I liked better. so if anything, content was recycled and you all still got to see it in some way.

but there are some things that I want to do that just aren't possible. like many stranger missions. there's no good way to include certain events or characters in ACW without derailing what is going on. so alas: aberdeen pig farm is not a stop on Arthur and Wolf's itinerary.

but for another example, I wanted to showcase more of Wolf's past with her father (specifically her shut in life before his death), and I wanted scenes and more examples of her being disconnected unlike everyone else as a result.

these will come as flashbacks or other scenes in the upcoming chapters, but I intend to add these changes or additions during my revisions! :>

Is there usually a length goal you set?

as for word goals, I never quite had any apart from "at least 20k words" just because that was usually my average, I noticed.

additionally, this made sure I didn't end chapters without putting the bare minimum of content in them, and to have solid continuity. can you imagine have a 20k update and then a 3k one? no thanks!

20k just became my running baseline, after that. otherwise, my limit is when AO3 reaches theirs for the character limit (fence why some updates were split into multiple pieces).

with my other stories, I simply write until the story is properly paced or finished: however long it takes!

---------

whew! what a post!

but I hoped that gave you some more insight, anon.

writing is crazy, and I'm always learning something new. more now than ever, since I'm looking into actually getting something original submitted for publication.

if you (or anyone reading this) are inspired to write yourself, don't be discouraged! writing is one of the most intensive forms of creation. it's not easy. it's not instant. it's a lot of passion and time, let alone a utilization of language and grammar fluency!

it's easy to feel overwhelmed or lost, or feel like it's better to not try than struggle to start. but I can assure, writing is such a splendid thing to do. write for enjoyment, or pleasure, or simply because you want to.

as long as your story isn't intended to be hateful, is your own work, and is fun for you to create... what else matters?

if you want some additional inspiration, just know that I started writing fic in 2012/2013 and have gone through so much in my near TEN YEARS of fic writing. I've learned a lot, and I've grown so much!

be proud of yourself no matter where you are at and start from, and pride yourself in your progress or beginnings.

just go for it! you may surprise yourself!

hope you're having a good one, anon. and thanks for the ask! :)