#I’m already ordering a custom archival box

[arethouyetliving]

I’ve done it. I’ve peaked. My white whale. My impossible dream. I require no other material possessions. I own a first edition printing of the Illustrated Peacock Edition of Pride and Prejudice.

[riverxsong-ao3]

The Knights of Walpurgis: Chapter 10

“We’ve noticed you don’t share the same taste for the relatively benign tricks and toys sold at Zonko’s,” George replied, glancing around. “And no wonder, if you have a taste for magic a little bit… Darker.”

“So we wanted to show you a bit of what we’ve been working on the past year and half,” Fred added. “There’s nothing fatal, mind, but you might find some of it a bit more to your interests.”

“Oh?” Tom asked, his ears perking up. “Well, go on then – tell me what you’ve got.”

“We’ll do you one better,” George beamed, pulling a scroll of parchment from his robes. “We have an entire order form right here. Just don’t let the shopkeeper see you – we’ve already been told off once for trying to ‘steal his customers.’”

Tom took the scroll and turned to unfurl it surreptitiously whilst tucked up against the wall. He recognised their Extendable Ears from the list, and was sure he had seen some of the Trick Wands floating around Hogwarts in his rounds as Prefect, but other items on the list were unfamiliar to him. He quickly perused the form until his eyes caught upon something interesting.

“What’s this, then?” he asked, pointing at the list.

“Ah, you have quite the discerning eye,” Fred replied. “Fever Fudge, part of our line of Skiving Snackboxes.”

“Skiving… Snackboxes?”

“Range of sweets to make you ill,” George replied. “Not seriously ill, mind, just enough to get you out of class when you feel like it.”

“I see,” Tom said thoughtfully. “Do elaborate. Not that I’m one for skipping classes, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Fred said with a wink, pulling a small tin from his pocket. “You just bite off the orange end, here,” he continued, pulling out one of the treats and showing it off. “This is the Fever Fudge, so, naturally, you come down with an intense fever instantaneously. Once you’re safely out of class, you eat the other end – this purple bit here – and you’re right as rain once more with the rest of the day to spend at your leisure.”

“And if someone didn’t have the purple end?”

“Well,” George said, with a sidelong glance at his brother, “they’d likely be quite ill for a few days – all of our potions are proprietary, you’re not going to find the antidotes in the Hospital Wing. Any… particular reason you’re asking?”

“Pure curiosity,” Tom replied, unable to suppress a thrill of glee at the thought of Dolores Umbridge suffering in bed for days on end. “I’ll take a box of each variety.”

[knightyoomyoui]

Chaeyoung x Reader- “Wish You Were Real”

Check out my newly created Archive Of Our Own account. I'll be posting my book there too from now on!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJYooMyoui

TW: mentions of mental health topics like anxiety and depression.

-----------------

DAY 1

After you opened the game, you were currently waiting for it to fully load. It was a game sent to you by your friend Somi, who requested that you try it for yourself. Somi is a game creator, and you are a gamer, so she knows just who she will call for help with this.

The game has finished loading. Your seating posture was fixed in your chair. The screen displayed an animated 3D girl character waving her head back and forth slowly at you. Her face is painted with a cheeky grin.

The character was adorable and lovely. It has long black hair pulled back in pigtails, a round face, captivating eyes, plump lips, and a mole on the lower side. She was also dressed in a crimson dress with a black outline and strawberry design scattered throughout the fabric.

(Just imagine she is animated and wearing like what I described here.)

YN: "Oh, I have a character already?" you said as you saw her on your screen. You assumed that in order to play a simulator game, you had to first customize your own.

???: "Hello, player! Welcome and nice to meet you.", a dialogue starts to appear inside the box below her, which us probably her words as if she was speaking to you. You noticed that her name is labeled as "???" so it made you a bit confused why.

YN: "Nice to meet you too.", you typed on your keyboard and pressed enter to send it.

???: "Before we go any further, may I ask who you are? I just want to know what I can call my player first, so what's your name?" she asked, changing her pose. Her chin is now resting over her palm, which she is using as a support to lean her head down and stare at you attentively.

A sweet, calming slow melody of a music starts to play in the background.

YN: "YN.", you typed your name.

???: "Great! You have a cute name, I see.", she said, making you smile in gratitude. "Hi, YN. To make it fair, I must introduce myself too. I'm Strawberry, your AI companion.", she said, introducing herself to you as she states the name you gave to her.

YN: "You have a nice name, reminds me a lot of the same fruit," you say as you type your message to her. It was kind of clear that it would be her name because the most color you can see from her is red, from her cheeks to her attire; not to mention the one thing you noticed first: the design.

Strawberry: "Yes, I figured it already that you'll notice.", she said, making you hum in approval. " Well as you can see, I love Strawberries! So sweet, juicy and delicious! Do you have a favorite fruit too, YN?"

YN:" Yes. (Your favorite fruit) is mine."

Strawberry: "Woah that's good! It's also delicious too.", her expression and pose changed. Her eyes largened in awe with her hands both placed on each side of her face. That was quite cute and cool, you thought to yourself. As of now, you are complimenting Somi already about how she put efforts into this so far.

Strawberry: "Anyways, before we head on to these type of topics... I was wondering if I... could get to know what you look like?", she said, nervously. "Not that I'm being stalker or something creepy it's just... I'm with you but I couldn't see you. So might as well help me imagine how do you look then?", she said with curiosity.

YN: "No worries, I could help you.", you accepted her request.

Strawberry: "Really? That's a relief.", she said. Her face showing exactly like what she said. " Well then, tell me everything about your looks.", she returned back from her previous pose which is her hand below her head.

YN: "I am ----- years old, ------ in height, my gender is -----, My eyes are ----, my nose is ----, my mouth is ------, my hair length is ------- and its color is -------, my ears are ------- and lastly my lips are -------.", you enumerated some of your appearance to her which you focused mostly only on your face since you thought that's what she only needed.

Strawberry: "Now that makes it all easier now. I could get to compliment you as much as I like and I would want to!", she said. The dialogue then told you that she is clapping at the same time, which explains why is she posing like she was praying in front of you, but there were details added like a vibration around her hands to signify what she's actually doing.

" Thank you for giving me just a glimpse of an idea on what your appearance is, YN. I observed that we got some quite similarities on other parts.", she chuckled.

YN: "You are welcome, Strawberry.", you said.

Strawberry: "Moving on! Do you have any cherished ones in your life that you cherish?" she said. You were taken aback by what she said. It made you be like that for a few seconds, and you might not have been dragged back from your senses if Strawberry hadn't shown another of her dialogues to your screen, causing a notification sound from your laptop.

Strawberry: "Uhm, YN are you still there?"

YN: "Yes, I'm still here.", you hastily typed. You rubbed your head and eyes before sighing to calm down yourself. "Sorry I just went out for a while because...", you only added dots at the end because it's still not easy for you to continue mentioning to others what happened. But since what you're talking right now is just a game and an AI, you didn't mind instead but to say it.

Strawberry: "What's the next, YN?"

YN: "They're all gone. My whole family are dead.", you said. Your eyes were starting to get teary while typing this.

Strawberry: "What?! Oh no. I'm very sorry to hear that, YN," she said. Her expression was a mix of surprise and melancholy. You reasoned that because she understands it, it felt natural and genuine. "I had no idea I had already inserted such a sensitive topic for us to discuss," she began to frown in front of you.

YN: "It's fine, Strawberry. Don't blame yourself, you're just curious."

Strawberry: "Are you okay?", she asked. A teardrop suddenly fell from your eyes. You didn't know why you're becoming even more emotional. Maybe it's because you aren't talking with another person yet she does makes you feel that she is, especially her concern about you. Since you only needed someone like that, you don't want to hold back sharing your problem to them, through her at the moment.

YN: "A little but like I said it's not your fault.", you sent to her. " I have been keeping this pain to myself for quite some time now and after all i'm trying hard still to move on. They're the people I grew up with, shared most of the best memories in my life."

" I didn't even know that one day I'll be learning that they will just became one of my own way too soon. It was just so unexpected, you know.", you said. More tears flowing down in your face.

Strawberry: "YN, I don't want to make you mad but... may I know what happened to your family?", she asked seriously.

YN: "They died in a plane crash. They were one of the passengers who got exploded to death above the sky and crashed the ocean.", you explained to her what was the cause of your anxiety and depression you're dealing with currently.

"When I heard about it, I didn't felt anything, nor sensed what's going on around me. The only thing I know at that time is that I thought something was slowly breaking loudly inside me."

"Until now, even if it doesn't that worse compared like that time... it still hurts.",

Strawberry: "My deepest condolences, YN. Rest assured, I am not a companion if I won't do my role here... especially for my player, which is you.", she said. You just keep on reading about what she's going to say, and boy oh boy it was worth it.

"If you need any help, always remember that you have me on your side, even if I ain't physically there; what's more important is that you'll receive the comfort that you deserve right?", she said, making you feel touched about what she said. You smiled softly while looking at her through the screen, impressed on how Strawberry is doing to you right now.

YN: "I will, Strawberry."

Strawberry: "If you are already doing it already still tempting to do so, I suggest you let it all out now. Grab some towel or anything to wipe your tears and hehe... just imagine me being the one who's setting it all out aside for you, YN.", she adviced you. You chuckled a bit at what she said in the end.

" It's not good to contain that amount of pain inside of you, you're completely devastated already... don't let it be the cause of your end too. No, nobody will want that, not even me... or them up high in the heavens, YN.", she continued. Your face is twitching again, tempting to release another batch of tears to mess your face even more.

"Now go, I'll give you some time for now. Close the game, we can play tomorrow or later if you want! Just don't give up and please let yourself cheer up!", she finished. You just nodded in response to her even though she can't see what you did.

YN: "Thank you so much, Strawberry. I appreciated it. Goodbye.", you said to her, not forgetting about that number one rule that was shown to you before the game started operating:

Always say goodbye.

Strawberry: "Goodbye, YN!", She posed her hands waving at you goodbye as you finished the game, and you did exactly as she said to you.

You dashed to your restroom, sobbing the last of your tears as you remembered how distraught you were on your family's burial day, before grabbing a towel and water to wipe and wash your face clean.

DAY 3

Strawberry: "Hello, YN! It's Wednesday today, how's your day?", she greeted you after you started the game again.

YN: "Trying to be better."

Strawberry: "Such a nice thing to know!", she responded.

YN: "Hey, I'm sorry if I had been gone for almost 2 days. I just thought you got worried much when I didn't opened the game yesterday.", you said. It was true. You didn't played yesterday since there was a power outage from your neighborhood's streets.

So that means you were alone in the darkness. You hated to be in that situation so you always wanted someone to be there for you. At first Somi was there on your side but she only does that sometimes since she has a job plus she already have a boyfriend she's living with.

You understood it completely but Somi knowing how you still hide the fact that you don't actually like it, she then came up on an idea to make a game for you to enjoy and accompany you at the same time, which is how you got introduced to Strawberry.

And after that very great talk and impression Strawberry gave you, not being able to play with her yesterday made you some sort of.... missing her. So you took a mental note that once the power goes back on, you'll open the game right away and explain your side why you haven't been able to meet her yesterday.

Strawberry: "You do right I got concerned but you made me assured now that you're still okay so far.", she said, smiling at you. " I can't stop thinking what's happening to you there. Want to share?", she said, giving you a look of interest again which was making you feel comfortable communicating with her. I mean, who wouldn't want to talk someone who's leaning their all attention towards you and ready to listen all what you have to say?

YN: "As of now, I'm currently on my process of rehabilitation from my anxiety and depression.", you said. You just finished doing meditation, exercise and drinking protein shake.

Strawberry: "Poor you. You do really suffered a lot, YN.", she said which had her lips curved downwards. "Anxiety and depression are no joke. Glad that you're not letting it get affect you too much.", she said, shaking her head.

YN: "I don't want to, mainly because of what you did for me last Monday.", you said, smiling softly as you typed it. "That really touched me so much, Strawberry. You don't know how I needed it.", you added as you remembered what she told to you 2 days ago. It helped. It somewhat lessened the sadness and pain that's been slowly damaging you inside.

Strawberry: "Always welcome, just for you. YN. I'm your friendly companion, so you're all free to spill what's disturbing your thoughts and mood.", she said, giving you a thumbs up gesture while grinning.

"I'll be willing to help anytime. Keep on continuing your progress, YN okay? Heal, recover and stand back up again.", she said. You can't help but to form a smile while she's doing this again. You're starting to realize even more how Strawberry is important to your recovery. She was the one who's giving you encouragement and motivation that you needed to have just to make this successful and be all okay again.

"I know that mental health problems could be one of the reasons of passing out but please, I don't want to think about that happening to you but as much as I hate death... I know that it's part of living to humans like you and it can't be prevented someday.", she said, making you sigh at that disappointing and quite terrifying thought she was sharing to you.

"But... don't think about it way too early okay? I mean, you can vanish in your world peacefully and justifiably.", she said in worriedness.

YN: "Okay. Calm down, Strawberry. I think you're getting emotional."

Strawberry: "But what if I am?"

YN: "Then you're making me feel the same too, Strawberry."

Strawberry: "Oh, is that so? S-sorry. I didn't mean to. I guess... I do care for you that much.", you stopped blinking as you went straight staring at her face. You were taken aback at the fact that an AI animation character just bravely expressed how much she shows more emotion and sincere sympathy unlike the rest of the people around you.

"Even if we don't know each other that much and we already met like just 2 days ago. I just don't know what will I do if that happens.", she said, shaking her head as what the dialogue says about what action she's doing.

"Maybe I'll just delete myself and the game, since I won't have any purpose anymore...", then she started to lift her head up and look at you as if she's sporting puppy eyes while managing to maintain the sorrow emotion in her face.

because I was built only to accompany you...

that means, you're my everything...

my world...

and I hope that if we will be both gone, I hope we can reunite; where I can finally see you with my own eyes.", she said which made you gulp because of how her words targeted you heart so accurately that it sure feels bittersweet.

It was touching how she sees and treats you like that yet at the same time it was heartbreaking that she was imagining that she really wanted to meet you in real life if ever she was living in the same world as you. It makes you even wanting to say the same as her.

YN: "God, your words makes my heart flutter really hard already, Strawberry.", you huffed in the air at how touching it was. " You're making me lighten up my mood effectively but can we talk about something else? You know like... more fun than this. This is getting way too serious now.", you chuckled, but unknowingly a blush was starting to form on your cheeks. That description of you about how important you are to her still makes you can't get over with it.

Strawberry: "Oh okay... hehe. I'm sorry again, YN.", she said through the dialogue, embarassed.

YN: "You don't need to. After all, It makes me happy hearing those sweet and comforting messages coming from you.",

Strawberry: "Hehe... now tell me, what did you do for today?", after that you two talked about what are you doing mostly to make yourself feel better and taking care of your mental health before going to another several topics that she's initiating to talk about until it comes to an end where you'll be saying goodbye to each other, happier compared to the previous days.

DAY 7

It's been a week since you downloaded the game and meet Strawberry as your AI companion. As what you can tell, your friendship and closeness to each other were going pretty good and is actually getting steadily strong. Like the usual, there was no other changes with your time with her except for the times that you can't predict whether you're gonna have ride with her on a rollercoaster ride of emotions or just going to be smooth only from start to finish.

Strawberry: "Hello, YN! Is it morning or nighttime there?"

YN: "Hello too, Strawberry! It's morning here.",

Strawberry: "Good morning, YN!"

YN: "Good morning too, Strawberry.", you greeted her like you always used to do everyday.

Strawberry: "I noticed you're getting earlier and earlier when you open this game as days passes.", she said. You can actually observed it too. Last week mostly you with her during nighttime but the gap of each time you start spending with her goes farther and farther. You didn't even mind it anyways since you're now considering that playing Strawberry is now part of your daily routine somehow.

YN: "You're just fun to talk and hang out with, that's why.", you gave another reason of yours to her. You caught a glance at her cheeks slowly going red which was adorable and amazed at the same time. The details Somi puts in this game doesn't fail you to like it.

Strawberry: "Oh wow, am I really that entertaining to interact with?"

YN: "Yes."

Strawberry: "I'm so happy right now when you said it, YN.", she grinned showing her clean set of teeth. " I guess I shall keep being like this so that we could have fun all day long!", she was chuckling which made you react the same too. " So... what are you doing today? Did you have breakfast."

YN: "Yes, I do and right now I'm just resting after I tried to improve my drawing skills."

Strawberry: "Woah! That's cool!", she gasped. "Now it makes me curious if you are better than me now.", she said, teasing you a little. She did shared to you once that she loves to draw which was part of the things where you and her are alike with.

YN: "I will draw you if I finally can."

Strawberry: "Really? That sounds nice.", she said. Your expression turned to a questionable one when her smile transitioned into a frown. "I do like to do the same too but...", she didn't continue her words as she took a break to sigh based what the dialogue says.

YN: "Why, strawberry? What's wrong.", you asked her concerningly.

Strawberry: "I just remembered that even if I do want to see your artwork and I want to make you the same too, I can't. I won't be able to see it anyways and what's worse... I can't draw my own because it's not part of my system codes and... as much as I know what are you supposed to look like, I can't see you and definitely makes me afraid that if this game will allow me to draw I might not be able to make it look impressing."

YN: "Strawberry, it's alright. It's just a drawing okay.", you said as you comforted her. You also liked it that it wasn't just only you who's sharing problems here and living in an imperfect life where happiness isn't the only thing you need to have but also her too, which gives you a purpose to realize of what is it like to be a friend too. "Not at all times it has be perfectly accurate. There's no perfect creation anyways. It will be still based by our own skills and don't worry, I will do my best to make you beautiful here in my work and I suppose that even if you can draw, I would still appreciate whatever I may look like there because giving effort to it makes it more attracting to my eyes already if I ever see it.", you assured her.

Strawberry: "I guess you're right, YN," her delight slowly returning to her face, a small smile forming on her lips. "You know, if only I'm-- ", before she could finish her sentence, she was abruptly cut off when the game suddenly shut down and retuned you back to your home desktop.

YN: "Wait, what the- What happened?" you wondered, still perplexed. You attempted to launch the game, but it appears that the game issued an error message, preventing you from doing the action. You just let it go for a bit as you rest it, still anxiously thinking that you haven't even said goodbye to Strawberry before logging off.

Meanwhile on the inside of the game, Strawberry was perplexed about the sudden disconnection. She was furrowing her eyes as she kept staring at the wall where a hologram that shows what you've been sending her is showing up. The only words that is pasted on the wall so far is a big writing that says OFFLINE."

Strawberry: "Oh... he disappeared. Maybe he lost power or something.", she shrugged. " I'll be waiting again for him to come back, I guess...", she said, sighing. She walked near to the window of her "room" where all she can see is a space-like atmosphere but instead the stars and planets were all replaced by nothing but just a set of numbers, letters and symbols aka codes floating around outside her room.

DAY 10

In a span of three days since the crash happened, you didn't even know that it would reach to the point where it went got worse.

You tried to launch the game after "resting" it for a couple of hours, but it still won't let you. It offered you a fresh reason this time, claiming that it was trying to figure out what the problem was.

But you managed to open it again the next day. Still, it happened again, and your time with Strawberry was cut short as the game began to have some issues until it submitted again, crashing and sending you to your home desktop. You were outraged about it at first, but anger quickly turned to terror as your device began to notify you that it had detected ten virus threats so far.

You opened the report and it made you speechless when you found out that it was all coming from the game itself. Wondering why, you tried to fix it with your antivirus. It worked... but that doesn't end here yet.

Strawberry on the other hand, was also feeling angry and sad to that this game is acting very strange which affects both you and her. She was begging that you might found a solution to stop this from continuing on and on so that the two of could return to have fun together again.

Sadly, yesterday as you tried to open the game it didn't let you connect to Strawberry. You did open the game, yes but the loading section just teleports you back outside and give you again that irritating bullshit unfortunately an eror has occured message.

Your patience is just thin so you already told Somi about this. She did respond but it was short since all she said to you is that she was feeling sad, apologetic and thankful that you have bow updated her about your current experience with game, and then the next is just simple.

She just adviced you to do the only thing you have to do... through recalling.

You didn't want to do it at first but you have no other choice ... even if it sucks.

YN: "Hello, strawberry.", you said. You were pertaining to it in a serious and cold manner because what you're going to do just easily makes you go out of the mood already. Meeting Strawberry today which makes you feel bad even more doesn't help at all.

Strawberry: "Hi, YN. Y-you're back.", she said shyly. Her face was sad also, which was already good for you that you two share the same mood today.

YN: "Yeah, like I always do."

Strawberry: "Mhm... I can see, and I'm happy that you are.", she said. You just hummed, not buying what she said. You just don't want her to pretend because being like this is already fine to you and you have to see it. "I just...", she said, paused in the middle of her dialogue.

YN: "Is there something wrong?"

Strawberry: I know you're here but I want to say that it made me scared when you did that days ago where one second I'm just happily talking with then the next thing I know I just got disconnected from you.", she said while a new effect has been featured from her and for the first time ever...

... you saw her cry in front of you.

Just seeing some nonexistent and non-living being that provided you one of the best times of your life so far expressing overflowing emotions to let you know that she can feel but not in the same manner as we are in front of you just breaks your heart in an instant.

Also, it's like you wanted to bring back the words you were saying in your head that you just want her to stay sad for you to avoid being even more devastated... cause even the opposite doesn't make you feel good too with this ongoing situation.

YN: "Strawberry, I apologize sincerely for me but please listen to me now. I don't want to interrupt you but we don't have time.", you said as you just had another bug again that thankfully vanished away in a second.

Strawberry: "O-oh... w-what is it?"

YN: "I just want to say sorry already for what am I gonna say.", you sighed heavily after you typed this. You also pressed the "regret'" option from the "What are you feeling?" category button.

Strawberry: "What do you mean?", she furrowed her eyebrow.

YN: "I-... I.... I have the delete the game.", you clicked your tongue in disapproval.

Strawberry: "Delete the- wait, so that means... where it will all disappear... including me, because I belong here.", she said. As you saw her dialogue you released again a sigh but this time it was shaky.

"W-why? Did I do something wrong?"

YN: "N- no you didn't, it's just... the game, where you're staying at. It's broken.", you said. " It's still in a beta version and my friend who is your creator, only passed this to me for me to test it. About that disconnecting thingie that keeps occuring often, it was due to crash and bug issues which was all because of this game."

"And I'm concerned that this is the root of all malware risks; I'm just doing what my friend suggested, and I... don't want to risk my device here," you added, a large frown now appearing on your face.

"Especially since this was once owned by my father, which is why most of our memories were all placed here in one," you said. You can't believe that this moment has brought you to the point where you have to make sacrifice between two of the most important things in your life: your family and Strawberry.

You didn't want to lose either one of them, that's what you sweared... but there is no other way. Even if you keep the game or transfer it to others, it will just cause damage including itself.

Strawberry: "O-oh... that's why.", she said. She smiled, but you're pretty damn sure that it's fake. "That's a relief and a shame too. I guess everything is just temporary. I honestly thought my sadness will be coped but... it turns out that it's not."

YN: "I'm really sorry, Strawberry. You know I don't want to do this at all.", you said as your breathing becomes heavier now.

Strawberry: "Me neither. I don't want to go but I guess I have to let it happen instead... because that's the right thing to do.", she said, she still keeping the fake smile she had. " YN... we're running out of time aren't we?"

YN:" I don't know, the possibility of the game crashing is unpredictable too.", you said, shaking your head.

Strawberry: "Then I guess I should say my farewell to you. YN.", you closed your eyes for a while as you can feel the stinging pain your heart is creating.

You can't believe that it was very soon for you to let go the only one who stood as your friend and always ensures you that she'll be on your side whenever you talk to her or not, although she doesn't feel your presence nor hers.

The only one who is the main reason why your mental health is slowly improving and your depression is decreasing.

The only one who is capable of bring back that smile and happiness that you lost after mourning from your family's death.

And lastly...

The only one who actually listened and understood everything what you've been going through everyday, even if she doesn't have any ears or mind to have; she did still proved that she can use her conscience for you to receive sympathy.

Strawberry: "Thank you for accepting on volunteering to play this because if it wasn't for what you did... we wouldn't have met. Even if I am just a fictional character who plays as someone who's role is to be anyone's friend and assistance with human traits, which led me to you... our connection with each other, it felt so good. I hope all my help were really useful and you'll remember our memories we built together."

"Cause you know, I will. It was just so happy... something that could never forget and get rid away.", she said as her animation of tears flowing down in her face becomes larger. Your lips started twitching as the unbearable despair is now about to take control all over you.

"YN... was I a great friend to you?", her question appeared on the dialog box. You saw her face waiting with anticipation. Without wasting any more seconds, you immediately press your answer between YES or NO

YN: "Yes."

You are. you whispered as you finally started to bawl your eyes out.

Strawberry: "That feels much better now.", she said as a calming smile was built in her face,slowly shrinking the tears a bit. " Now, go. YN. You can delete me and the entire game now before something might happen really bad. I'll be fine. I guess this is a goodbye for us.", she encouraged you.

YN: "Wait! I have one more thing to say.", you followed up.

Strawberry: "Go on."

You inhale and exhaled deeply before typing the words you've been wanting to her also.

YN: "I wish you were real, Strawberry. I really do.", you smiled painfully as more tears flowed down in your eyes while your face clenches.

Strawberry: "Then take my words as a favor.", she smiled.

YN: "What is it?"

Strawberry: "When you got all too well now from your depression, promise me you'll look for any person out there, much better... someone who resembles like me. If you get the chance to meet that person, take it. The loss of this game from you, don't take it as a huge burden to you. Because I know that this goodbye that happened very soon won't be the last... and it's stands for the reason that..."

YN: "We'll see each other again soon too.", you quickly understood what she meant so you typed it while smiling and nodding your head.

Strawberry: "I'll be waiting for you there, YN. I can't wait to see you and the sketch you made for me.", she said as you chuckled while she just grinned widely.

YN: "Goodbye... for now, Strawberry."

Strawberry: "Goodbye, YN.", you said as you give one last touch with your hands to the monitor where the figure of Strawberry is being shown before finally closing the game;with just at the right time another bug was occured, making you exit a bit longer.

You recived 20 new virus threats but you just neverminded it. You pressed "uninstall" at the game and after sow little time of hesitation, you successfully did it.

Strawberry looks to the window one last time as everything around her started to vanish away slowly in pixels, with how she imagines what do you look like was the last thing she has in her mind that makes her smile before also joining the rest to disappear.

3 WEEKS LATER

YN: "Is it just me or the event looked bigger than last year?", you pondered as you glanced around the massive convention hall in Daejeon, South Korea.

Somi: "What do you expect, there are just so many aspiring people who wants to to work for gaming industry. Others, well I could say that as time goes passes by their minds go brighter and enhances their creativity level to the next level.", Somi said, responding at your compliment at where you two are right now.

You and Somi are currently attending this years game con where many different gaming companies and creators are showcasing and promoting their upcoming releases of different variations of games.

YN: "Any updates about the game?"

Somi: "Oh, the simulator?", she said, picking up what you're actually referring at. "Slowly progressing. We just can't take forward quickly on working to it since we also have to deal with other duties, specifically the ideas of our employees about a possible entry our company has to add in our release lineup every year.", she said, nodding while explaining. " But don't worry, we'll be keeping an eye on it still. Kinda struggling but stll, we ain't giving up." , she pursed her lower lip.

YN: "It's fine, take your guys' time. I'm just the only one who's excited about it, no need to pressure yourself too much.", you chuckled.

Somi: "As you say so. One day, you're gonna meet your Strawberry again.", she said as she patted your back before she went ahead a bit faster than you to reach the spot where her company's booth is placed and to greet her co workers.

YN: "I hope so.", you muttered to yourself. You looked around again and then something located not that far away from you, there was a new simulator game that's being presented and allowing everyone to try the demo for free.

The longer you keep watching them, the more you remember the happy memories you ad with Strawberry, making you sad about it.

YN: "I miss you. I can't wait to see you wherever you are.", you said as you looked at the wallet you opened and gripped it tightly.

Somi: "CHAAAEEEEE!!!!!", you got startled when you heard your friend Somi shouted very loud that caused some of the people around her to gain their attention. You just laughed and facepalmed yourself in second hand embarassment as you continued to roam your eyes around the booth.

???: "HEYYY! SOMI-AHHHH!!!", a mysterious woman suddenly ran towards Somi with her pair or arms spread widely.

Somi: "How's your heart?", she said as she catched the girl running in her direction with a tight hug.

???: "Almost fully okay now, thanks to your game.", she said as she playfully pushed Somi's shoulder while smirking. "I'm disappointed that-", she got interrupted when you unknowingly went between their conversation.

YN: "Somi, may we-" You just turned around and observed she's chatting to someone. It didn't last long for you to stare at your friend because this girl's appearance piqued your curiosity to the point where you had to move your gaze back to her in the matter of a few seconds. "Oh, uhm I'm sorry I- I didn't notice you're talking with someone," you said, supposedly to Somi, but you're still staring at the girl in front of you, who's also staring at you, sharing the same expression and thought you're having.

Somi:" Yo, YN... meet my friend here. Chaeyoung.", Somi said as she went in front between you and this girl who's name is Chaeyoung. " Chaeyoung this is YN, my guy friend.", she said as she kept presenting you to each other.

YN: "H-hi... n-nice to meet you. I'm YN LN", you stuttered as you offered your hand to Chaeyoung definitely looks very familiar to you.

Chaeyoung: "H-hello to you as well, my name is Son Chaeyoung," she said, her cute feminine voice sounding like melody to your ears as you heard her. She accepted your hand in greeting and shook it. You just gulped at her little and soft hand's warm touch.

YN: "I'm sorry if I'm stuttering, but... you do remind me of someone, and she does too-" you began to panic out slowly. "Somi s-she looks just like my AI friend in the game; was it a coincidence?" you asked, turning your head to Somi, who is just standing there watching what's going on.

Chaeyoung: "Y-yeah, I was gonna say the same too. He looks just like the same as mine too.", she agreed as she pointed you too. You looked at her with pure confusion, furrowing your eyebrows. You aren't sure whether you heard it clearly from her. " You did, didn't you?"

Somi: "Yeah, I based off the characters already from you two.", she said as she nodde. You let out a silent "huh?' while your face crumpled more in bewilderment. "How's it? Was it cute or disturbing or..."

YN: "We we we wait, she played it too?", you asked her very perplexingly as you just have your mind entangled at this revelation happening at the moment.

Somi: "Yeah, you're the only ones I made to play the beta since you two both dealing in a huge problem. You being depression while hers is heartbreak.", Somi explained. Your mind then suddenly exploded when you learned that the reason why Strawberry has so much personality witin her is because she was entirely based already to a real person... and that is this woman you're standing beside with all along which was Somi's friend too.

Chaeyoung: "S-somi... this is e-embarassing...", she said as she carssed her arm and looking away shyly.

Somi: "Sorry.", she chuckled nervously. " As I was saying. Yeah since my game's purpose is to be a virtual "companion" right?, well I wanted to try to my two closest people in my life who definitely needed this. Yall lucky , you both got this for free only. Take it a gift from mine too.", she said as she clicked her tongue.

Chaeyoung and YN: "Thank you, Somi.", they both said not that loud but enough for Somi to hear it from her two friends.

Somi: "Anything for you guys.", she said, ruffling both your hairs into mess, making the two of you let out an annoyed groan. "Anyways, you two can have your time. I think it's better you two can get to know each other well more now. I still have to assist some of my peeps here.", she excused herself before going back to her booth, leaving the two of you together.

Both of you were silent as each sides were too nervous and embarassed to start a topic. Knowing that you are the man here, you just surrendered and did the honors instead to head first.

YN: So, Chaeyoung, can I show you something?", you said, looking at her. Her eyes matches yours. The feeling of astonishment you're getting as you dive deeply into her stare was exactly just like the first time you saw Strawberry on the screen.

Chaeyoung: "Go for it.", she said. You pulled out something from your pocket which was your wallet. You then pulled a nicely folded piece of paper after and opened it, revealing the contents of it which is your drawing of Strawberry that made Chaeyoung gasp in awe.

YN: I made a promise you to her that if we'll meet again I have to live up to my words that I'm gonna show this... and she's finally here.", you said as you proudly said to her with a smile. "In this reality. I get the chance to see her physically... where I could be able to touch her, feel her and be with her side. That's you... you're my dearest friend Strawberry.", you said as you acknowledged her that she and the friend you met during your hard times were one.

Chaeyoung: "Wait, I did draw you too!", she exclaimed. She pulled out her cellphone and removed its case, unfolding also a paper which made you see her own drawing of your AI character model that she played with. "I just felt like it because... of longing. You were just very good and I'm glad that I can see my lovely friend Once standing in front of me with my own eyes, through you.", she said as she looked again at you with her sparkling pair of flawless eyes.

YN: "Wow, I do really look like him. Somi did a great job.", you said as you reacted in amazement.

Chaeyoung: "I agree.", she chuckled while nodding her head.

YN: "Can you explain why you named me Once?", you asked curiously."I guess I don't have to do mine, right since it's quite obvious. The outfit.", you chuckled as you pointed at Strawberry's outfit.

Chaeyoung: "Yeah and it was cute. It's my favorite.", she said. "Well I called you once because for the first time my heart that has been broken once was been repaired by only one person... and that was you.", she said while you pouted while nodding your head, understanding her point. "And I guess I should repay that with twice of what you did for me.", she smiled sweetly.

YN: "What could I say, I need to do the same too.", you smirked, crossing your arms. "We changed each other for the greater good. Experiencing it also for real this time sounds like a great idea.", she nodded, agreeing at you.

"C- can I hug you, because you don't know how much I wanted to give you ever since I played that game.", you said sheepishly where it nearly made you stutter.

Chaeyoung: "Ofcourse, I would love to YN. I also wanted it.", she laughed as she approved your requeest. The two of you narrowed each other's gap until you are very close to her, your towering figure standing right in front of her.

Both opened each other's arm before wrapping it and pressing your bodies to one another, sealing you and Chaeyoung to a very warm, comforting, safe and longing embrace. Your heart was beating rapidly because of overloading happiness as you finally got to do this like what you always wanted to do to your Strawberry... to Chaeyoung in real life.

Little did you know that Chaeyoung was feeling the same too with her cheeks blushing at the contact.

YN: "What do you say? Shall we have a walk for a while?", you asked softly after releasing this gorgeous and beautiful woman from your arms.

Chaeyoung: "Sure, let's go.", she answered, grinning brightly at you.

You and Chaeyoung started walking to explore more of the convention while you continued the conversation with her.

YN: "So, you're a gamer?"

Chaeyoung: I do. What's your favorite type of game?

Meanwhile as your time with her keeps proceeding, Somi was looking at you two from the distance, the curve at each side of her lips went upwards as she was enjoying the view of you two together.

Somi: "They do match together. I ship them.", she briefly raised both her eyebrows as she focused back on entertaining everyone who's visiting their booth.

-🐯-

[kim-seungmine]

moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.  

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.  

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation?  I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!” 

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[ninjago-happens-here]

'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not.  “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!”  “Yeah, sis?”  Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.”  “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“  “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!”  “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation.  “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole-  Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate.  “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all.  “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked.  With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.”  Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible!  Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“  “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

His Husband Wears Prada and Red Bottoms

His husband wears Prada and red bottoms by moonchild under moonlight

“I'm sure he'll wait for his order since I'm your constant customer” arrogant half smile and dismissing shrug of shoulders showed that the female wasn't familiar with rejection of any kind. Well, today was the day. The assistant nervously pulled her crisp white collar down, thinking that this was it, her last day at work. Bakugou Katsuki, well now Kirishima Katsuki, did not take the arrogance kindly. Not at all. *** Red hair put in a loose bun opened a devastatingly handsome face. Scar on the right eye gave his already imposing posture a strike of intimidation. Crimson eyes were locked on the end of the podium where changing rooms were starting while large hands littered with non-so-discreet scars held small lean black box with Cartier insignia.

Words: 953, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki, Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, side couple Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Omega Bakugou Katsuki, Alpha Kirishima Eijirou, Beta Sero Hanta, Beta Kaminari Denki, Alpha Todoroki Shouto, Omega Midoriya Izuku, omegas have pussy, and tits, but they're still masculine, that's hot fight me, Established Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, they're are power couple, Kirishima Eijiro is Yakuza boss, Bakugou Katsuki Being an Asshole, but he's Kiri's kitten, Untouchable Katsuki, Kirishima and Bakugou are husbands, they're rich, Like filthy rich, Katsuki is spoiled rotten, but Kirishima thinks he deserves more, and he does

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39412794

[6ad6ro]

there's a lot of posts about piracy going around rn. so here's mine:

anti-piracy arguments are almost always classist. you shouldn't need to be rich to be happy. we were all born into capitalism. it's not voluntary. many of us don't have parents or other support networks keeping us afloat. poor people still deserve to have nice things. i could care less about keeping a system running smoothly that keeps most people poor and only few people rich.

if you work a shitty, low-paying job, then a simple monthly streaming service fee is YES actually too much to ask. no i don't care if your fav big company loses "potential" money from people who couldn't afford to buy them to begin with.

if there wasn't such a thing as "poverty"? if people could generally AFFORD to go out and easily get the things they want and need? obviously piracy wouldn’t be much of an issue at all. it's always frustrating to hear anti-piracy arguments from people who ignore how CRAZY expensive cost of living has become. again, usually the biggest anti-piracy peeps are either naive rich kids (who have things paid for), rich ppl who STAY rich by keeping things broken like they are, and the poor people they’ve brainwashed into being submissive hosts to their parasitic behavior.

in a world like this, where people are overworked and tired? with very few tangible goals available in their future? people NEED entertainment to stay sane. it's literally a mental health issue. yes, in a way, you NEED that funny show to inspire yourself to keep going. that game you can't afford otherwise? will help you relax after a hard day. don't let some disney mouthpiece tell you shouldn't download lion king if it'd help calm you down, especially when the people running that company could probably afford to have a private zoo in their backyard.

there's ALSO the big issue of control. as companies move further and further into streaming and cloud technologies? ownership has become a huge issue. greedy companies are finding more and more ways to nickel and dime people over long periods of time rather than get a one-time fee. it makes them more money, they don't have to actually GIVE customers anything (copies of data are free to them). and customers are left with nothing to show for it after-the-fact. this means that even though entertainment is being produced way more than the past? i’d argue people have LESS access to the entertainment they want for how much they’re paying. because it’s all temporary.

drm and limited use is becoming a norm. meaning? it's harder and harder for people to "own" their favorite things even if they COULD afford it. your favorite movie might simply cease to exist in 20 years. your favorite game might become nothing but a fragmented memory.

"piracy" solves this. backups. ownership. it takes control away from companies who abused that power. and puts it back in your hands. when nintendo stopped making their back catalogue available? and went around shutting down all the emulation sites? i was thankfully in the clear. because i download and archived many of my favorite things. in many cases i own cartridges of my favorite games already? but those can break, or in my case, get caught in a flood. but due to piracy, i can still play "mario 64" to pull myself away from suicidal thoughts. and i'm not limited by nintendo randomly deciding to remove it from the switch store and take the cartridges off of store shelves? in order to drive up their yearly profit via copycatting the methods used for the "disney vault" scam (look it up).

i am someone who tends to enjoy things from other countries. but it can be INCREDIBLY restrictive to try to go through "official" channels attempting to pay for them. if i want that old, relatively unpopular 80s japanese prog rock album? i'm just stuck. i HAVE to hope someone is sharing it online. but this often applies to new things as well. "licensing" is generally INCREDIBLY stupid, especially when it comes to other regions. do you REALLY want simple licensing issues to stand between you and your potential new favorite anime? and in many cases, the distributors just don't care enough to make the thing available globally. and no, i don't think this should mean we all just "miss out".

one of the biggest issues we are experiencing online at the moment? is one of censorship. governmental censorship, religious censorship, and maybe worst of all? corporate censorship. i'm not talking about "bring back racist imagery" etc (but that DOES play a part). i'm more talking... rewriting history. edits. removal. for example, it shouldn't be left to some corporation to decide whether or not a sex scene in a movie is deemed "too racy" for today's audience. if somebody creates an amazing album, but then commits some awful unrelated act later, that shouldn't mean that album should be made unavailable. in many cases, old media can even TEACH us what NOT to do. we gain nothing by erasing history. and corporations are never doing it to be moral. they're only following required guidelines in order to maximize profit. “fake showings of morality” to keep up appearances and keep all potential buyers buying. piracy can give you the OPTION of access to unedited works, or things that have been removed from circulation.

piracy can negate corporate control and artificial-scarcity. create opportunities for absorbing other culture's art without having to deal with availability issues in your country. it circumvents corporate and governmental censorship. and helps you archive the art that makes your life worth living.

finally... the "but it's stealing and stealing is wrong" argument is invalidated by the fact that, by ANY moral compass? these companies are STEALING from US. constantly. by a LOT. look at the way any big company is run. the way it leeches off of it's customer base. the offshore tax havens... does THAT seem okay to YOU?! if someone went around stealing all the food and locking it up, would you REALLY consider "breaking in" to get some so that u didn't starve as "stealing"? don't pretend that you don't NEED escapism and entertainment to get by. you know that you do.

the only people that piracy COULD hurt? is small, independent artists. who, if you actually listen to them, would rather you send them money directly? or buy merch. etc. because companies usually take SUCH an awful cut that it’s better to find alternate ways of supporting them. if you use reasonable context with what you decide to download and share? it’s fine! like i might buy a depeche mode vinyl or two? or a shirt. or go to a concert. but i’ll pirate that $1000 rare box set. because i just can’t AFFORD that kind of excess. and my income doesn’t dictate how big of a fan i am of their music. as long as you chip in when you can to your favorite creators? it’s actually fine. if i didn’t pirate, i wouldn’t be into 95% of the artists i’m currently into. i’ve spent so much on media that it’s almost embarrassing... my argument might not be entirely black and white? but i can safely say that piracy’s positives GREATLY outweigh it’s negatives. most research done has shown time and time again that it doesn’t really hurt creators. if anything, it’s the way greedy companies REACT to the idea of file sharing that hurts those creators. it really is an argument of big corporations trying to make sure they keep ALL the money. and it has almost nothing to do with art or artist’s rights. so please keep sharing everything. download away. for the sake of your own sanity, and generations down the line. because corporations don’t care about you. they don’t care about artists. and they don’t care about maintaining easy access to the art. they just want money, regardless of the cost to everyone else’s happiness. and if you can afford to PAY for it regularly? you should consider yourself very lucky. so maybe stop shitting all over poor people who unfairly have less access to what you already have. everybody deserves to be happy.

[effieduan]

GIVE RIO JOB 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 | Rio & Effie

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @effieduan

SUMMARY: Rio’s ability to afford groceries is called into question.

CONTENT:  No Triggers!

Effie sat at the counter, tinkering with a giant black box. It was a monster, a dinosaur, and an absolute disgrace to modern computers. But Florence wanted it back in suitable working condition because it was “so simple”. Effie learned early on in this business that it was important to give the customer what they wanted -- even if she thought she could give them a better experience. Florence was elderly, and she could understand wanting things to stay the way they were. And truthfully, after Effie was done with this big old dinosaur, there wouldn’t be much to complain about other than its size and heavy weight -- that reminded her. She would have to schedule a drop off at Florence’s apartment. Watching the little old woman waddle in carrying that thing had almost given her a heart attack. She was working on replacing the cooling fan when she heard the door jingle as someone entered.

She would have preferred to be in the back sitting in her workshop, but that meant  she would have to constantly be getting up from her work to come out front whenever a customer came. Annoying. She poked her head up over the harddrive to get a look at her customer. “Just a second,” she said, swiftly hopping off the stool, placing her tools on the counter, and grabbing her lime-green gloves. She looked at the boy. College student, most likely. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Did something break?”

In a lot of ways, a shop like this should make Orion feel right at home. Ever since he was old enough, he practically lived on his computer if he wasn’t reading. Nowadays, he did a lot of his reading on the computer anyways, with the scribe archive coming along. It was slowly but surely growing, and Rio was starting to find it easier to find information through the database instead of skimming through the books like he always had to before. Of course, there were probably thousands of books still unaccounted for, but he had tried to prioritize to get some of the most common books translated first.

If his pastimes weren’t enough, then his old second major made a shop like this feel even more familiar. Computer science had always felt like more of a means to an end than an actual passion, but he had still picked up on a few things in the first two years before he had dropped it to focus on history and mythology. After all, the groundwork for the database had already been built thanks to Winston’s help. That was what Rio had wanted the degree for in the first place.

Now, Rio just needed work. Money wasn’t exactly tight. His parents had left behind a generous amount split between himself and Athena, and despite the size and grandeur of the home that he currently lived in, his living expenses were surprisingly cheap. Perks of only paying utilities he supposed. Still, a steady income wouldn’t hurt. And despite the change in majors, Rio still knew enough about technology that a place like this could be a potential job option. If they were hiring that was. “Hey there.” Rio gave a small wave when the woman behind the counter spoke to him and slid closer to the counter. His fingers began tapping against it rhythmically as he considered his words, “Nope. Nothing broken here. Not technology anyways” Rio rattled off, letting his words slowly fade as he realized this was not the best conversation starter, “I was actually just wondering if you knew if this place was hiring? I’m sort of looking for employment.”

Effie stared at Rio, mouth opening slightly in surprise. “... Employment…” Effie said slowly, as if she didn’t quite understand. Truth be told, she didn’t understand. She was quite clear that she was not looking for any other staff for her store, even if Eva told her she was being ridiculous because she would get so much more work done if she had someone watching the front counter while she sat and worked on orders in the back. And what did this boy mean by nothing broken - at least not technology. Was that a Gen Z thing? Was she so old that she was starting to call things gen z things? Was she going to rage war on middle parts and baggy jeans next? Effie had to shake herself out her head, reminding herself she was going to live long enough to see Gen Z 10.0, to stare at the boy. He was… Skinny. And polite enough. Effie’s snarky comment of why didn’t you check the website’s F.A.Q before coming in here died on her lips. “Uh -- “ Effie coughed. “I own this store,” she said. “My name is Effie Duan. And I’m not - I mean, I’m not really looking for employees.”

The woman, who turns out was the owner of the store, didn’t seem especially thrilled about the idea of Orion asking if she was hiring. Apparently, that wasn’t something she did a lot of. Or maybe at all. Rio had passed by the store on a few occasions, had only actually popped inside once or twice to check the place out, but he clearly remembered her face from each visit. Did she have any other employees, or was she running this place all by herself? “Oh! That’s awesome. Hi there. My name’s Rio. Technically it’s Orion, but nobody calls me that except my family.” Rio exclaimed, holding a hand out towards the woman as a means of introduction. He quickly backtracked to correct himself, “Er- well I guess my family used to call me that. Now nobody really does.” Well that was awkward. Definitely not the greatest first impression. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you or anything.” Rio bit at his lip. Well there went another option. Was he cursed to live on his family’s money in that oversized home forever? Could that even be counted as a curse? “Do you uh- run this place all by yourself? Because that’s crazy impressive. How do you have time to do everything?”

Effie’s gaze shot down to the hand he outstretched to her as if it was going to bite her. She did not like contact, especially with humans. Well, especially with anyone. Still, that’s why she wore the gloves. They were the solution and the reason she could be around people. Effie quickly recovered and reached out to shake his hand, hoping he didn’t mind the feeling of rubber. “Orion,” she said. “Rio.” Only his family called him Orion -- had called him… Something flashed in Effie’s memory about the doctor and business owner that were brutally murdered, leaving behind their children. She didn’t remember the girl’s name, but she did remember Orion because it had been one of  Eva’s favorite constellations growing up. Then again, Eva’s favorite constellation changed every week - maybe she just remembered Orion because she would get poked in the side with a stick shrieking and giggling. Now that was a reason Effie never wanted to have kids. Her demeanor softened though, realizing that this kid was on his own now. She felt that familiar, heavy feeling in her chest -- like whenever she looked at a frustrated old woman who just wanted her dinosaur hard drive fixed or a man that just wanted a stupid gaming system repaired because it meant a lot to his father. Effie cursed under her breath, straightening slightly. How hard must it have been to have your parents murdered and now had to provide for himself?

“You’re not a bother, Rio,” she said shortly. “It’s just - I mean, I do run this place by myself. It’s my store - my business, I mean. I’m open Monday through Friday, from 9-5 and then on Saturday’s from 9-12.” Officially, at least. More often than not, she was here, open late or early because it wasn’t like she did much. “So … Well…” Effie looked at Rio. God, could he afford groceries? He was so skinny! “What - What experience do you have?” she asked, lamely.

Orion tilted his head curiously as Effie repeated his name, followed by his nickname to him. “That’s me.” Rio responded quietly, trying to figure out what Effie was thinking about. Clearly something was processing. She was still looking up towards him, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze, instead staring past it. She must have been lost in her thoughts, the same way Rio did. “That sounds busy.” Rio agreed, listening to her hectic schedule. While RIo tried to keep himself busy too, none of his hobbies were exactly time sensitive besides his classes. She was bound to this schedule to run a business. Owning a business in general was way more stress than Rio thought he could handle. Being the sole employee was another thing entirely. She surprised him when she asked about his experience. Hadn’t she just said that they weren’t hiring? “Oh well uh-” Rio considered her question. Technically, he didn’t have much. Not officially. “Well I used to be a double major with computer science as one of those. I’m still a double major, just not computer science anymore. But I learned quite a bit in the first couple of years. I’m pretty decent when it comes to like coding and stuff.” Rio scratched at his neck nervously. It wasn’t like he could exactly show off the database he and Winston had built. Not without looking completely insane. “And I also worked as an assistant in my old job, taking calls and talking to people that came in. It uh- burnt down last year.”

Gears were churning in Effie’s mind as she stared at Rio. He certainly had a series of unfortunate events happen to him. Parents murdered and his job burnt down. Other than making sure some poor college kid could afford groceries, she would get her sisters off her back. It wasn’t only Eva that thought she worked too much. Not to mention if this kid could code, he was likely smart enough to learn how to fix phone screens and the like so she didn't have to waste time with those while she worked on her larger products. Not to mention, if she didn’t have to answer the phone or talk to people… Temptation was something Effie learned not to engage with a long time ago because it only led to disappointment and more self loathing than she could handle. What would she do about this kid’s safety? Make him wear gloves? “A couple of years in computer science is certainly better than nothing,” Effie said finally. “What do you study now?” That seemed like a decent question to ask. She could put him in a full rubber suit, though she wondered if that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t like the feds would believe it was just her version of wrapping him in bubblewrap.

But how many incidents did she have in her shop? She was comfortable here in her shop and her apartment. Other than making the lights flash when frustrated, she never had done anything dangerous. The danger happened when she inevitably had to go outside. “Look, Rio,” Effie started. “I think -- Why don’t we try it out?” The words fell out of her mouth, surprising herself that she was going through with it. “Obviously, you’re a college student, and I don’t expect you to work all the hours my store is open. We can adjust to your schedule so you can have a healthy class life and social life as well as adequate free time to decompress.” Now she sounded like Eva, who frequently lectured her about what it was like to actually live. Not an option for her. She looked at Rio, before remembering something. “Oh, and I should… Probably check your references.”

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.IV: Danced of the Damned

pairing(s):  Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre:  Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, hints of traumatic experiences, blood, etc. 

word count: 5k

synopsis:  How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

You don’t know exactly what you were expecting to find in the archives of the Town Hall. Maybe a couple old files holding the ancestral information of Moon Dye or a couple ancient photographs where the faces are too blurred and rotted to recognize. Even the finding of a mere rusted pocket watch would have crossed your mind—not a thick registry stuffed full of unthinkable truths. 

In your defense, you just happened to stumble upon the records in the dank, dusty basement where the town’s archives stay. It was hidden in a secret compartment behind chalky boxes of cold cases that were forgotten a long, long time ago—how else were you to satiate your curiosity? Inside the mess of cobwebs and dust, there sat the information that would both make and break your sanity. 

And maybe if Jaebeom hadn’t approached you in that alleyway and confirmed your suspicions… your mind would have been able to come up with some sort of rationalization. 

“Look, I wanted to tell you so many times…” You can’t bring yourself to meet Mark’s gaze, finding more interest in swirling the contents of your untouched tea. Through the corner of your eye, however, you can see your companion feverishly shaking his head, “But knowing about me would put you in danger, (Y/N)... I couldn’t do that to you.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Mark.” 

“I know that, but—fucking hell.” Mark buries his face in his palms, still rocking back and forth, “It shouldn’t be like this… God, I never wanted this—” 

“And you think I did?” You hiss, uncaring about the pure venom in your tone. “How the fuck am I supposed to process all of this? That vampires and werewolves and witches and probably goddamn pixies exist? That my best friend has magical powers and talks to the dead?” 

“I don’t—” Mark timidly shrugs, “talk to the dead…” 

“Well, at least there’s that much.” A heavy sigh passes from your lips, expelling barely any tension from your aching chest. You toy with the handle of your teacup before finally gathering the willpower to meet Mark’s eyes. His irises are wild and filled with all kinds of emotion, you immediately notice. Probably a mere reflection of your own. 

As much as you want to stay angry at your best friend—you physically can’t. No matter how many times your head and your heart go back and forth. Mark lied to you. Mark has been lying to you all this time. But something inside of you won’t let your eyes see past the genuine remorse and hurt written along his face. 

He’s still your best friend. 

Mark sighs, “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?...” 

“I want you to tell me the truth—the whole truth.”

“I can’t do that,—” 

“I at least deserve that much, don’t you think?” Mark withers beneath your murmur, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated breath. After another moment of silence that seems to stretch on for hours, Mark grabs a nearby bottle of bourbon, pours himself a glass and finally nods. 

“If I tell you everything, there’s no going back… Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Not really, but I don’t have that choice anymore.” You hum. “I need to know.” 

Mark nods again. “Where do you want me to start?” 

“At the very beginning.” 

The way Mark throws back the alcohol sparks uneasiness in your gut, but not as much as the gloomy darkness that overtakes his gruff tone. 

“The main story begins with the first ever vampires that came into existence, known as the Prime Two…” Mark moves to pour himself another drink, but changes his mind and ends up drinking straight from the bottle. You wonder whether you should ask for a sip as well. 

“But you know them already… as Im Jaebeom and Park Jinyoung.” 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Youngjae releases a content breath as he steps into the warmth of the bookstore, effectively escaping the post-rain chill of the outside. He shakes the remaining coolness from his hands before heading toward the front counter, where Bambam is stationed flipping through a high-end fashion magazine. Youngjae fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Bam?” 

Bambam looks up at Youngjae’s voice. “Hey, man. What’s going on?” 

“I need your help.” Youngjae surveys the area of the store, checking down aisles and around corners for any signs of life. The racing of his heart somewhat slows at the lack of other customers, allowing him to turn back to the cashier and continue, “The coven is in danger. Nayeon-noona is dead.” 

“I heard about that. I’m so sorry, hyung.” Bambam nods his head, “What can I do?”

“Are you able to see an account of everyone who steps foot in this town? Visitors included?” 

“Yeah, I know some guys who can get whatever information you need. You feel like taking a trip up to the police station?” 

Youngjae hums in response, waiting patiently for Bambam to lock up the register. He watches the younger throw on his coat before meeting him behind the counter. With Bambam in tow, Youngjae leaves the comfort of the shop. After Bambam locks the door, the two continue through the cold in the direction of the police station. Youngjae again checks his surroundings, feeling more than just the chill of the air. 

“Did you… find what killed her?” 

“What?” 

Bambam repeats again a little louder. “Nayeon. Do you know what killed her?” 

“A hunter and another witch.” Youngjae explains, “We have records of them murdering countless covens before coming to Moon Dye.” 

“I may not know everything about this supernatural stuff, but don’t hunters hunt vampires...?”

“We’re not sure why either of them are specifically targeting witches.” Youngjae shudders, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. “I just hope we can find them before…” 

“Hey.” Bambam halts Youngjae’s pace with a hand on his arm. “We’re gonna find these douchebags and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.” 

Youngjae weakly smiles. “Thanks, Bam.” 

“C’mon. I’m freezing my ass off.” Youngjae follows Bambam’s wishes and continues down the street, feeling less and less paranoid knowing the younger is by his side. Instead, Youngjae’s mind thinks back to your sudden entrance only mere minutes ago.

Youngjae wanted to stay at the mausoleum and help Mark deescalate the situation, but the older insisted that he continue the search. He can’t help but remember the betrayal across your features—the way you looked at him and Mark as if they were aliens. 

“Why did you give (Y/N) Mayor Bhuwakul’s old diary?” The question escapes Youngjae’s lips before he can stop himself. His inquiry visibly takes Bambam off guard, manifesting in the form of confusion along his features, before shifting to realization. 

“Because she deserves to know.” 

“But what about Mark-hyung? You know what this will do to him, right? To him and (Y/N)?” 

Bambam shakes his head. “I know Mark cares about (Y/N), and (Y/N) cares about Mark.” He peers at Youngjae through the corner of his eye and shrugs, “That’s not gonna change just because she knows the truth, hyung. I doubt that will ever change.” 

Youngjae doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the moving pavements at his feet. He knows Bambam is right, and knows both Mark and (Y/N), but something in his gut doesn’t feel right—like a sense that something is coming. 

Something bad… Something really, really bad. 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“So you’re telling me that not only are there vampires almost a thousand years old running around without a care in the world, but you’re also the leader of the town witch coven who protects Moon Dye from supernatural threats?” Mark nods at your recount, holding back a smile at the cute furrow in your eyebrows. “You realize how absolutely unreal that sounds? Right?” 

“You said you wanted the truth.” 

“I’m only slightly regretting that decision now.” You sigh, smoothing a hand over your scalp. Mark notices a stray hair fall across your forehead at your movement. He’s not sure whether it’s the light buzz radiating throughout his veins or the way your eyes seem to glitter in the sunlight, but his mind has to warn his hands to remain glued to the table. Still, Mark can’t help but feel disappointed as you brush the strand away. 

You shrug your shoulders, “How… How do you do it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like…” Mark carefully watches your expression, noticing the slight tremor in your tone as you trail on. “How do you… do magic…?” 

“Well, there’s a bunch of ways.” He explains, “Spells. Potions. Channeling objects. Control of the elements. Some witches can even see events from the past, present or future.” 

“So you don’t wave around wands and ride on broomsticks?” 

The first genuine laugh leaves Mark’s lips for the first time tonight. “No. Though Youngjae did try to enchant his car to fly one time.” 

“Where does it come from? The magic?” 

“It’s dependent on the witch, and the type of craft they practice.” 

Not desiring to scare you off, Mark chooses to show a more modest example. He focuses his attention onto your cup, still full of now cold tea, and murmurs a quick incantation beneath his breath. Your entire body flinches as the glass lifts at least six inches off the table, enough to hover at the level of your eyes. After a couple seconds, Mark lowers the cup back into its original place. When he meets your gaze, he expects to see fear embedded beneath your irises, but it’s the opposite: 

You seem fascinated. 

“I usually practice Traditional Magic, so I use the Earth and other natural elements to amplify my magic.” Mark says, “Most witches are born with their own powers, but that’s not always the case. 

“Youngjae—take him as an example—is a Siphoner. In order to generate magic, he has to absorb it from other things, be it objects or people.” 

“So he… siphons magic?” 

Mark smiles. “Exactly. You’re catching on pretty quick.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You shake your head, curiously peering down at the stationary teacup before returning your attention back to Mark. “When I read through that book in the archives, I saw something about Lycanthropes… Does that mean what I think it means?” 

“Werewolves.” He states matter of factly.

“They exist too then?” 

“You remember Kim Yugyeom? Bambam’s best friend?” 

You nod. 

Mark nods too. “He’s the second in command of Moon Dye’s pack. I don’t think you’ve met the new Alpha, Bang Chan.” 

“I’ve heard the name from some of my kids.” Mark can practically feel the exhaustion from your sigh. He debates the idea of reaching across the table to take your hand in his—the loneliness of your fingers spurring him on even more. Before Mark can make up his mind, you’re already withdrawing your limbs and hiding them in the comforts of your lap. 

“I just—I’m just having a hard time processing all of this.” 

Mark shakes his head, “It’s a lot to take in, (Y/N).”

“I know, but—” You pause to lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in his direction with the beginnings of a scowl overtaking your lips. “I’m still pissed that you kept this whole other world a secret from me. I mean, for fucksakes, Mark, you’re my best friend.” 

“I’m—I was protecting you. Knowing this stuff exists doesn’t come without consequence, (Y/N).” 

“Stop saying that, oh my god—” Mark waits as you bury your face in your palms, deeply breathing through the divots of your laced fingers. After maybe a minute of silence, you raise your head and murmur, “What is it about me knowing that puts me in danger? I was nearly killed by that vampire without knowing shit.” 

A wince overtakes Mark’s features. “It’s complicated…” 

“I’m so sick of everyone using that excuse.” You hiss, “You don’t keep something like this from me, especially the fact that you’re—” 

“Do you know how Nayeon died?” Mark can see how his sudden question takes you off guard by the widening of your eyes and pursing of your lips. You take a few moments to collect yourself, right your expression, before answering: 

“She was… killed by an animal.” 

Mark shakes his head again. “No. Nayeon was murdered by a supernatural vampire hunter and another witch.” 

You blink. “B-But… was she a—?” 

“She was a witch—an innocent witch that never provoked, nor hurt anyone.” Mark leans forward until the edge of the table presses harshly against his ribs. The uncomfort does little to garner his attention—too focused on speaking to you with his desperate eyes. “This world—my world is dark, (Y/N). The creatures in my world are even darker, including me.” 

He pretends not to catch the brief wave of unease that washes over your face. 

“Right now, there are two fucking crazies in town out to kill me and my people.” Mark gulps at the stone long formed at the back of his throat. “If I lose anyone else, I—” Unable to finish his sentence, Mark shifts his focus. “I just need you to understand, (Y/N). Please.” 

“Mark—” Tremors shoot through his veins as your fingers latch around his wrist—the warmth of your touch sobering the last remnants of his mind. He has to hold back tears at the pure sympathy that resonates from your bright irises. “I understand, okay?” 

He nods, not trusting the quality of his voice. 

You softly squeeze his arm. “No more secrets though… Promise me.” 

“(Y/N)—” 

“Promise me.”   

Mark knows he shouldn’t, but the way you’re looking at him—so calm, yet so determined—the way you always look at him… He can’t do anything but give in. 

“I promise.” He murmurs, placing a hand over your own with a weak smile. “No more secrets.” 

You nod approvingly, offering up a smile of your own. Your lips part again, as if to ask another question, when a knock sounds from the door. Mark almost verbally protests when you pull away, but holds back his annoyance to answer the unexpected visitor with a silent sigh. However, he can’t hold back his scowl at the sight of Jinyoung on his doorstep. 

“Mark. It’s good to see you.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I apologize for my sudden visit, but I needed to talk to you about—” Jinyoung’s voice trails off, which Mark quickly realizes is because of your known presence. He watches, with narrowed eyes, as you and Jinyoung exchange an array of glances before he turns back to Mark. 

He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back—” 

“She knows.” An uneasy feeling erupts in Mark’s gut at the weak expression that crosses over Jinyoung’s face. He doesn’t like how Jinyoung looks at you again, nor the blank stare you offer the vampire in response. 

Jinyoung nods. “I see…” 

“What did you—?” Mark’s phone rings before he can finish his question, temporarily relieving him from the atmosphere of awkwardness and irritation. He steps aside to allow Jinyoung the space to enter while pulling his phone from his pocket. His eyes remain fixated on the interaction between both you and Jinyoung as he answers the call, lifting the device up to his ear. 

“Please tell me you and Bam found something.” 

“It’s not much, but we at least found a lead.” Mark breathes a sigh of relief at Youngjae’s answer. As to include both you and Jinyoung into the conversation, he turns Youngjae on speaker phone, avoiding the curious glint in your gaze.  

“There’s no record in the police database of any suspicious visitors entering town within the last few months, so we’re sure they probably got into Moon Dye undetected, or at least not on city file.” 

“How does that help us?” 

“You need to let me finish, hyung.” Mark can practically hear Youngjae roll his eyes over the line. “We may not have records, but some of Bam’s friends were able to look into the cameras stationed around the border of the road that leads into town. They caught footage of a bus dropping off two young women, who were then picked up by a 2018 BMW M6. We tried to track the license plate number, but the registration is private.” 

Jinyoung murmurs with a nod, “So someone who lives here in town brought them in. It’s possible we may be dealing with more than just a hunter and a witch.” 

“I don’t think so.” Youngjae disagrees, “The tracking spell would have picked up on every accomplice involved in Nayeon-noona’s murder.” 

Mark feels sick at the slight grimace that pulls across your features. He knows you're playing strong by the way you quickly mask your discomfort. 

“Anyway, we were only able to track the vehicle as far as Poison Square. But we do have the faces of the two young women that got off of the bus.” 

“That’s something then.” Mark sighs, sharing a wary glance with Jinyoung. “What do they look like?” 

“Both are probably somewhere in their early- to mid-twenties, have dyed blonde hair and are relatively around the same height.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head. “That could be anyone. Can you be more specific?” 

“The one woman has three distinguishing beauty marks: One on the bridge of her nose, another above her upper lips, and a third near the corner of her mouth.” 

“Shouldn’t the hunter have something on them? Like a mark?” 

“We wouldn’t be able to see the hunter’s mark.” Jinyoung shuts down Mark’s inquiry with a frown, “It’s only visible to other hun—” 

“This mark… Is it a tattoo, by any chance?...” Mark nearly flinches at your sudden question—Jinyoung almost doing the same. The latter resurrects from the surprise before releasing a hesitant answer: 

“Well, I’ve never seen it myself, but… yes.” 

“Oh my fucking god…” The pure shock that overtakes your face sends warning bells chiming through Mark’s mind. He sets the phone on the table before dropping to his knees in front of your sitting form, immediately noticing the trembling of your hands. Worst case scenarios play through his thoughts like creepy puppet shows, but he pushes them away to focus on you. 

“What is it?” 

When you meet his gaze, your eyes are wild with a blend of shock  and fright. Mark feels even sicker than before, and not because of the alcohol. 

You gulp. Not once. But twice. 

“I… I know who Nayeon’s killers are.” 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Please, just let me go…” Jihyo sobs, hot tears beginning to spill down her burning cheeks. The rope around her wrists chafes uncomfortably at her skin, eating away at what little dignity remains in her heart. “I really don’t understand what you want from me…” 

Momo releases a huff—the sight and sound mirroring a dragon blowing smoke through his nostrils. Jihyo watches through terrified eyes as Momo paces across the living room floor, feverishly shaking her head and mumbling incoherencies underneath her breath. The fear continues to grow when Momo stomps to where Jihyo is frozen stiff on the sofa. 

“How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself?” Momo growls, shoving her tattooed arm in Jihyo’s face. “You see this mark, then you’re a hunter. It’s not rocket science.” 

Jihyo weakly shakes her head. “You’re sick, Momo… Th-This whole thing about vampires and witches and hunters doesn’t exist…” 

It’s a lie—Jihyo knows in her heart that a part of her, a very stupid part of her, believes every little detail that has left Momo’s lips. Some of it makes too much sense not to be true: The sudden animal attacks. The mysterious disappearances. The unexplained instances she’s had ever since she moved to Moon Dye Bay. 

“I told you that—”  

Momo’s voice cuts out at the sound of a slamming door. For a moment, hope swirls through Jihyo’s gut, thinking that either Sana or (Y/N) must have come to her rescue, but the burst vanishes at the sight of Mina stepping into view—Jihyo’s fear instead skyrockets. 

Momo said she’s a witch. 

“What is going on here?” Mina demands, her tone stern and expression cold. Momo only smiles in response. 

“Sister!” She skips over to the newcomer, delicately taking Mina’s hands into her own. The act actually surprises Jihyo, not expecting the supposed, rather sadistic hunter to be capable of such affection. “Jihyo can see my mark! She’s a hunter just like me, sister!” 

Mina immediately tears her hands away, glaring at her sister with such bewilderment and venom. “Are you out of your damn mind!?” 

“Wh-What do you mean?” 

“Jihyo cannot be involved in any of this!” Goosebumps rise over Jihyo’s skin at the hidden darkness beneath Mina’s words. Her eyes glance toward the hallway, wondering the success rate of being able to reach the front door without alerting either sister. “Do you not remember what happened last time you tried to train another hunter?” 

“Things will be different this time. I am stronger now—we are stronger.” “You don’t know that for sure.” 

“Think of how easy it will be to take out the rest of Tuan’s coven with another hunter on our side, sister.” Momo persists, striking more panic through Jihyo’s already stocked body. Against her better judgement, Jihyo tries to escape her rope bindings… and unsurprisingly, fails. 

Mina shakes her head furiously. “Tuan and his witches have sided with one of The Prime brothers. We can’t risk killing another member without putting our own lives in danger—”

“All the more reason to take on another hunter.” Jihyo shrinks in on herself as Momo grabs Mina’s hand and leads her to her prisoner on the couch. “Please, sister. Think about what those witches did to us—about mother and father.” 

Silence, save for the hum of rushing blood in Jihyo’s ears, hangs in the air, thick like a pool of humid fog. Like Momo, Jihyo carefully watches Mina’s expression, searching for any features that may determine the underlyings of her fate. 

“So many lives we’ve already taken for mother and father.” Mina pulls her hand free from Momo’s and shakes her head. The rope seems to dig harder into her wrists—as does the terror in her chest when Mina murmurs her next words: 

“When will it ever be enough for you, sister?…” Jihyo’s gaze remains transfixed on Mina as she makes her way back through the kitchen, pausing to offer the bound woman an apologetic glance. “I’m so sorry you were brought into this… but I’m even more sorry that you’ll have to die because of it…” 

Whatever remaining hope inside Jihyo snaps as Mina throws her one last pitiful smile before rushing out the apartment—leaving Jihyo to the mercy of her deranged sister. 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung closely watches how your fingers seem to cling to Mark’s hands as you think over your words, almost as if his mere touch is enough to keep your mind grounded. And though he’d never admit it aloud… Jinyoung feels envy that Mark is the one who’s comforting you. 

“Mina and Momo are friends of Sana from when they were in high school.” You explain, peering between both Mark and Jinyoung’s curious expressions. Though Jinyoung notices how your gaze seems to avoid his seeking eyes. “I don’t know anything about them beside the fact they’re foster sisters, and they had a pretty shitty time in the system.” 

“Then how are you so sure it’s them?” Youngjae inquires, still over the phone. “And how did you know about the hunter’s mark?” 

You pause, and based on your expression, Jinyoung would guess you’re almost reluctant to answer his questions. He moves to soothe your uneasiness, but Mark beats him to it: 

“We have to know, (Y/N)... It’s important.” 

Jinyoung’s jealousy expands at the intimate glance you and Mark share. 

After another moment of quiet and a heavy sigh, you finally speak, “The other day, I heard Jihyo comment on a tattoo that Momo had—but there was no tattoo. Neither Sana nor I saw one, so I just thought Jihyo was imagining things until…” 

“Until now.” Jinyoung finishes. He inhales an unsteady gust of air, carding his fingers through his styled hair, and shakes his head with a solemn expression, “(Y/N)... For Jihyo to be able to see Momo’s hunter mark would mean she’s a—”

“We have to warn the others.” Mark interrupts Jinyoung, suddenly rising to his feet. “Youngjae, give a call to Lia, Jisung and Minho and tell them to get their asses over here as soon as possible.” 

“Already done, hyung. I couldn’t reach Minho, but I left several voicemails and dozens of texts.” 

“I’ll start on that linking spell we talked about. This ends tonight.” Mark lifts his phone from the tabletop, readying his thumb to tap the end call button. “Get here safe, okay?” 

Youngjae hums. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.” 

“See you soon, Youngjae.” No sooner had Mark ended the call does your voice sound: 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? ‘This ends tonight’?” 

Mark shakes his head. “(Y/N)—” 

“No. I want to know what that means.” You abruptly rise, sending your chair sliding across the wood floor with a shriek. Jinyoung waits for Mark to come up with an answer, secretly enjoying the obvious discomfort amongst his features, before answering himself after maybe a minute of radio silence: 

Jinyoung places a hand on your shoulder. “It means we do what we have to do to keep everyone safe. Including you and the town.” 

“But you won’t… kill them? Right? I mean, there’s-there’s other ways that don’t have to end with anyone dead, right…?”

“I don’t know.” Jinyoung murmurs honestly, “If they’re willing to talk, then maybe. But if it comes down to it—” 

“Please, don’t…” His heart practically breaks at the shakiness of your tone. “Just—do anything you have to, but don’t kill them…” 

Mark raises an eyebrow with a scowl, “They’ve killed dozens of innocent people, (Y/N). If anything, they deserve to die.” 

“Maybe…” You shake your head. “But killing them would make you no better than them.” 

Jinyoung feels as if you just punched him in the gut with your words. He has to let go of your shoulder to reach back and support his weight against the table, suddenly dizzy and light-headed.

“We’ll…” Mark sighs, “We’ll try our best, okay?” 

You nod before wiping your palms against the side of your jeans. 

As you and Mark engage in another round of small talk, Jinyoung tries to settle the nauseous feeling in his gut and focus on anything other than the fragrant waft of your scent. He knows he would never hurt you—his self control is too grand to allow anything like that—but the lack of human blood is beginning to affect him again. For the worse. 

Usually Jinyoung is able to hold his own with only a couple droplets of animal blood every few days or so. However, his strength and other abilities have long depleted since he began this strict diet, and while he may not be anywhere near desiccation—Jinyoung is certainly hungry. And weak. Very, very weak. 

He just hopes he will be able to withstand the upcoming battle. 

“But I want to help!” 

“And the answer is no fucking way. Absolutely not.” Jinyoung returns to reality just in time to see Mark shake his head indignantly toward your seething figure. Since then, he notices the two of you have moved to a nearby lectern, where Mark is currently flipping through a large grimoire.

“I can help, I mean—Mina and Momo know me and I swear I can—” 

“It’s not fucking happening.” Mark growls, slamming the book shut and leering down at you with a sneer. Jinyoung catches how your face doesn’t falter in the slightest at his angered expression. 

With a single finger, you poke Mark’s chest. “I’m not just going to sit back and watch while you and your damn wizard gang go and play hocus pocus with a pair of killers.” 

“It’s too dangerous—!” 

“Do I look like I fucking care!? Didn’t think so!” 

Jinyoung steps in, making sure to keep his tone calm so as to not infuriate you anymore. “Mark is right, (Y/N). I’m sorry—but you’d only be a liability for us to keep track of.” 

Your expression hardens. “A liability—? Are you serious?” 

Mark doesn’t spare a second glance in your direction and instead turns to Jinyoung. He points toward the countertop behind the vampire, “Can you grab the bowl that’s there? The one from yesterday’s ritual?” 

“So that’s it then?” Jinyoung  grabs the silver bowl filled with dried blood and the charm bracelet as you continue to rant, and hands it to Mark. The witch immediately dips two fingers into the crimson liquid, closes his eyes and begins to murmur a hushed incantation. 

You shove at his shoulder. “Mark? Are you kidding me?” 

“(Y/N), please—” Jinyoung steers you away from the witch, forcing himself to keep strong underneath your icy stare. “It’s for your own good…” 

With a clenched jaw and sparkling eyes, you shake your head. For a moment, Jinyoung hopes you’ll simply turn on your heel and leave the tense atmosphere of the mausoleum, but as always—you surprise him. 

“You know, I let your and Mark’s lying about everything slide because I wanted to move past it—for a fresh start.” You lean closer until Jinyoung can practically taste your minty breath on the tip of his tongue. “But you two are still treating me like some sort of princess that needs to be protected.

“And you know what, Jinyoung?” Your hiss strikes something deep inside Jinyoung’s soul—something even he can’t place. “I’m no princess. And I don’t need to be protected. You’ll do best to get that shit through your head.” 

Neither Jinyoung nor Mark try to stop you as you stomp out the door. 

Jinyoung bites his lip before turning to Mark. “Are we… doing the right thing?” 

“I don’t know.” Mark replies, and for once, Jinyoung can relate to the lost tinge in his tone. 

“I really don’t fucking know.” 

[mintaka14]

This one was a bit of a cathartic piece for me. I haven’t seen the NY special. I have no intention of seeing it. But the snippets and discussions that have crossed my path have left me with one feeling - that Marinette needs a hug, and as a Mum I wanted to see her maman step in the way that I would for my babies.

Maman

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

 Sabine heard the bus pulling in at the school over the last customer in the bakery, then the woman’s voice called her attention back and she focused on boxing up the order. By the time the door tinkled and the woman had left, Sabine could see Marinette standing on the other side of the road with her luggage and she hurried to the door to hold it open for her.

Marinette was smiling as she heard Sabine call out to her, but even at that distance Sabine could see that it was tense and tight, stretching a little too much as she dragged her pink-spotted suitcase across the road. Sabine waited until Marinette was inside before she wrapped her in a hug.

“Welcome home, sweetheart. It’s so good to have you back. How was the trip?” she asked with careful enthusiasm.

“Oh, it was wonderful!” Marinette’s smile grew wider, taut, and then it snapped. She dropped the bag and buried the sob that escaped in her hands. Sabine had her arms around her daughter, pulling her closer, stroking her hair as the sobs grew heavier. Tom had come to the door, his flour-covered expression of distress shifting from Marinette to Sabine and back again. Before he could say anything, Sabine made a tiny gesture, waving him towards the counter, and she bundled her daughter upstairs, making soothing noises all the while.

“Does the universe hate me, Maman?” Marinette sniffled into Sabine’s shoulder, and Sabine cuddled her closer.

“Oh, darling.”

“I’m trying so hard to get over Adrien, but first the plane seat… and the doors … and …”

“Start with the plane, baobei. Can you tell me what happened?”

“My seat was next to A.. Adrien. I had a panic attack on the plane,” Marinette admitted in a small voice, and Sabine found herself frowning. How had her daughter’s crush become so bad that it had gone from blushing and mooning over magazine photos to a full-blown panic attack? How had Sabine missed that?

“What did your teacher say?”

“She thought I was overreacting.”

“Overreacting?” Sabine repeated. She pressed her lips shut on the questions that that raised – time and enough when Marinette was feeling less distraught to find out exactly what the teacher with duty of care had or hadn’t done – but not for the first time, Sabine was wishing that she’d dug a little deeper into what was going on at the school rather than accepting Marinette’s assurance that everything was fine again. “But your friends noticed, surely? Didn’t Alya help you?”

Her daughter shook, burying her face in Sabine’s shoulder. “Alya said… she told Ms Mendeleiev that I was airsick and she finally moved me to a different seat, and then, oh god, it was so humiliating … and Adrien…” things dissolved into sobbing again, and Sabine tried to make out what had happened between the hiccups “… it just never goes right, and he doesn’t like me like that. He’s dating Kagami now. I want to be over him, I’m trying to be over him, but Alya…”

Alya again. What was going on there?

“It sounds like it was a rough trip,” Sabine said gently. “How was the rest of New York?”

“There was some good stuff,” Marinette mumbled into her shoulder, but she didn’t sound sure of that. “And then… then…” she sniffled again, and Sabine caught the odd word here and there about owl and bike and rain, none of which made any sense to Sabine, but that could wait. In the mess of Marinette’s stumbling explanations, Sabine didn’t feel that she’d got to the bottom of her daughter’s overwrought state yet, but two names were at the heart of it all. Adrien, and Alya.

Sabine patted her gently, stroking her hair while she waited for the sobbing to subside. She looked around the room over Marinette’s head and her mouth pursed. It felt like a thousand blond heads and sweet smiles were staring back at her from the photos around the walls, although Sabine could see more empty patches of pink and pinholes where Marinette had cleared some of the photos of Adrien away. She had thought she was doing the right thing, giving Marinette her space and waiting for her first real crush to settle down into a fond memory. Sabine remembered a few crazy things that she’d done herself in her early teens.

And much as she liked her daughter’s best friend, she knew how overwhelming Alya could be when she got an idea in her head. She’d thought that the young reporter was having a good influence on Marinette, helping her to find her feet and come out of her shell, and Marinette had been so happy and so much more outgoing since she’d made friends with Alya, even if there had been a few rough moments between them lately.

Sabine had thought she was letting Marinette have the space and independence to work out her own friendships. She’d thought her daughter would talk to her if things were troubling her, but clearly now she’d been wrong.

She kissed her daughter’s smooth black hair. “I’m going to tuck you into bed now,” she said gently. “You need sleep, and then you need a proper breakfast in the morning. And then,” Sabine looked around the room and the walls of Adrien again, “tomorrow, would you like me to help you take down these photos? We can put them in a box, you don’t have to throw them out. You can keep them somewhere safe until you’re ready, but I think you’re doing the wise thing to work on letting go of something that makes you this unhappy, and maybe that would be a good start.”

Marinette didn’t say anything, but the tension seeped out of her shoulders, and she sagged into her pillows as Sabine helped her out of her jeans and pulled up the quilt. Marinette still shook with the occasional sob, but she would fall asleep soon, and then tomorrow – they would deal with things together.

Sabine smoothed back her daughter’s hair and stood there watching her for a long moment, praying that she hadn’t let things go on too long. Her little girl was so precious. So precious.

As she turned out the light, Marinette’s phone beeped gently from the floor where she’d dropped it, and Sabine scooped it up, silencing it before it could disturb Marinette. She glanced at it as she went downstairs, and her mouth tightened further – Hey gurl gonna come get you tmrw morning, gonna get icecream ur “friend” Adrien is coming so not taking no for an answer! Sabine shut off the phone with unnecessary force and left it on the kitchen bench. It could wait until the morning.

 When the bell over the shop door rang mid-morning, Marinette was still asleep. Sabine looked up from the cash register, and her welcoming smile faded into something more reserved when Alya bounced through the door and gave her a wave.

“Hi Sabine! Is Marinette awake yet? I’ve come to drag her out for a bit of fresh air and fun.”

“Marinette’s still asleep,” Sabine told her, and Alya rolled her eyes with a conspiratorial laugh that clearly Sabine was supposed to respond to.

“She’d sleep through anything. No wonder she’s always late. Is it okay if I go on up? I’ll get her out of bed.”

Alya had started towards the door already, but Sabine dusted off her hands and moved to intercept her.

“Marinette needs her sleep. She’s not going anywhere today,” Sabine cut her off firmly. “And I need to have a word with you.”

Alya was staring at her in surprise.

“I want to find out what happened in New York, and I want to have a chat to you about what being a good friend to Marinette means right now.”

[antisocial-af]

Day 24: Herongraystairs

Title: Herondale Panic

25 Days of Pairings: Day 24 Herongraystairs

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1443

No Major Archive Warnings

SFW, Fluff, Holidays, Gift, Jem to the rescue, Will tries, Modern AU, Human AU, Lightwoods are cousins not ancestors.

Summary:

Will is tasked with collecting Jem's and his gift to Tessa without being caught.

Note:

I was not aware that I couldn’t align my text to the right on Tumblr. So I did my best to make the difference between texts and the writing obvious. I apologize. I didn’t check it earlier.

Click Here to Read on AO3

Story:

Will looked around the shops and then back at the text with the directions Jem had sent him. His task was easy; Jem and he had custom ordered an ornate cloth bookmark. The shop had called them back today, saying their order was ready. The problem was that it was Christmas Eve now, and the mall was jam-packed with shoppers fleeting from store to store for last-minute purchases. 

Will pushed his phone back into his pocket and kept making his way through the waves of people, dodging excited children along the way. 

“Maybe this will have what we need, Magnus,” a very familiar voice snapped Will from his search. 

He quickly looked around, trying to find where the voice was coming from. 

“I don’t know; Alexander is quite picky in what he likes.” 

Will turned to his right and looked across the wide pathway was his girlfriend with one of their best friends. Immediately panic started to set in Will. He pulled his jacket up higher and hunched over to hide. He looked around, spotting a restroom sign. Will carefully made his way through, keeping his eyes on the pair to ensure he hadn’t been caught. 

Once safely inside the restroom, Will retrieved his phone, smiling at his lock screen of Jem and Tessa holding hands while ice skating. He recalled the memory from last week. Will pushed up the lock screen and was greeted with another picture of Jem and Tessa, but this one had him squeezed between the both of them while they both tried to help him keep his balance on the ice. 

Will pulled his messages with Jem and started to text. He needed a new game plan. Tessa wasn’t aware he was here and instead was under the impression Will was currently with Cecily, helping her wrap Lightworm’s gifts. 

<Will - 16:39>: 

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

<Will - 16:40>:

JEM

JEM

JEM

JEM

PLZ ANSWER!

<Will - 16:41>:

JEM!

<JemofmyEye - 16:42>:

Will, I’m at work. What could you possibly need?

<Will - 16:42>:

Tessa and Magnus are here.

Like in the mall

Where I need to get the present at.

<JemofmyEye - 16:43>:

Yes. She told us she was going to be helping Magnus look for a present today.

<Will - 16:43>:

Ok, but she is here, and I can’t get to the store. 

<JemofmyEye - 16:44>:

Will, I am currently trying to figure out how to ask a customer what they mean by ‘the foam isn’t foam.’ I need you to figure this out. Just don’t let her catch you. If she does, just say you are buying something for me.

<Will - 16:45>:

That would ultimately work…

If I hadn’t told her I was going to be busy today helping Cecily out. 

I didn’t know she was trying to ask if I wanted to come with her and Magnus!

<JemofmyEye -16:46>

Just get the gift and don’t get caught. I need to go do a live demonstration on how we put foam on drinks for this customer.

Will sighed as he read over the last text again. Jem wasn’t any help, but his boyfriend was currently on a shift during Christmas Eve. He rubbed his hands over his face and stopped to think. Tessa and Magnus had been in front of the bookstore across from the small custom works boutique. If he could just sneak into the shop without being spotted, Will would be home free and safe from being caught. 

He peeked his head out of the restroom door and didn’t spot either his friend or girlfriend. Will quickly made his way out and started down the small hallway back into the mall’s central part. He stopped every few steps to make sure he wasn’t going to get caught. 

Panic hit for a bit when he had to dive into the store because he heard Magnus laughing somewhere near him. Will didn’t have time to check where it was coming from and the abrupt entrance earned him judging and questioning looks from the attendant. 

“I’m here to pick up a custom order?” Will stated, regaining his balance as he brushed himself off. “It’s under Heronstairs.” 

“Jem, right?” the teen behind the desk asked. 

“No, my boyfriend placed the order, but I’m picking it up,” Will explained, walking to the counter. “I’m Will. Jem should’ve added me to the order.” 

“Ah yes, apologies, we try to make sure the products of a certain price and above are securely handed off,” the teen kept on typing away on their computer. “Alright, so you both already paid it completely, so this is just a pick-up. Please wait here; this shouldn’t take more than five minutes.” 

Will watched them go and collect Tessa’s gift, entertaining himself by looking at the small charms and key chains at the checkout counter. 

“Maybe we can find him something here, Magnus.” 

Will heard Tessa say from the entrance of the small store. Luckily the counter wasn’t in view of the door, so he was sure he hadn’t been caught. 

“No, we go there all the time. Trust me, there isn’t something in here I haven’t bought him, or he himself purchased,” Magnus airily replied. “There is this other bookstore I was hoping to check out, though.” 

Will let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he heard their conversation fade away as they walked away. 

“Sir?” the attendant asked. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, sorry,” Will recovered, waving the teen off. 

“Okay…” the teen looked at Will skeptically and started to type away on the computer once again before the printer next to it went off. “So please sign here. That is our copy, and this one is yours. Everything is wrapped in the box you both requested, and if for some reason within the first three months something is wrong with the design or bookmark itself, please bring it back with your receipt.” 

“Thank you,” Will nodded along and signed the copy over, taking the bag and receipt from the attendant. 

“Of course, sir. Have a good holiday.” 

Will exited, package in hand, and started to make a straight line to the mall’s parking lot exit. He still didn’t want to chance Tessa catching him. Will safely made it to his car and took the neatly wrapped present out of the package, quickly snapping a picture and sending it to his boyfriend. 

<Will - 17:29>:

<MMS MESSAGE>

I got it!!!!

She doesn’t even suspect a thing!

<JemofmyEye - 17:29>:

On a possibly related side note, you're not allowed to call Alec ‘Lightworm’ at this year’s Christmas party.

<Will - 17:30>:

And why in the world would I agree to this!?!?!?

<JemofmyEye - 17:31>:

<MMS MESSAGE>

Will huffed and opened the picture message from Jem. It was a text conversation between Magnus and Jem. 

<Jem - 16:54>:

I need to ask a favor, please.

<Magnus Bane - 16:54>:

Considering I am currently with Tessa. What did Will do?

<Jem - 16:56>:

He is currently picking up a present we got together for Tessa, but it’s at the mall you both are at.

<Magnus Bane - 16:56>:

I haven’t seen him.

<Jem - 16:56>:

Last I knew, he was hiding in the restroom.

<Magnus Bane - 16:57>:

So what do you want me to do? I still need to find Alexander a gift.

<Jem - 16:57>:

Just keep Tessa away from Nephilim Designs, please.

<Magnus Bane - 16:57>:

While that doesn’t seem too tricky, it will cost you.

<Jem - 16:59>:

I can't do anything for you. I'm currently at work.

<Magnus Bane - 17:00>:

I was thinking more of the lines Will not call Alexander Lightworm anymore.

<Jem - 17:00>:

I can’t guarantee that. Gabriel, Gideon, and he have been going about it for years now; you know that. Not even Cecily got him to stop. I can convince him to drop it for the Christmas party, though.

<Magnus Bane - 17:02>:

Christmas Party and you have to babysit Chairman Meow when Alec and I visit his parents for a week for New Years’.

<Jem - 17:02>:

Deal.

Will groaned and clicked back into the chat with his boyfriend. Now he understood why Magnus steered away from the shop.

<Will - 17:35>: 

It’s fine. I don’t talk to Alec that much anyway. Just remind me. 

Church won’t be happy about the extra guest, though. 

<JemofmyEye - 17:36>:

He will manage for a few days. I have to go. We are getting the late rush.

Drive safe. 

<Will - 17:36>: 

Don’t let them bully you with foam! 

Love you, see you at home.

<JemofmyEye - 17:37>:

Love you too. 

[raendown]

I was bribed in to this by @rookie-d and @sleepysenseis and I regret nothing. Show some love to Rookie’s art for this au as well!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 1893 Rated: G Summary: Owning and running a bakery with his husband isn't exactly where he thought life would take him but Tobirama wouldn't trade this for the world.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Patissier-pation Award

The familiar chime of a bell greeted him first as he walked through the front door, eyes down to inspect the mail he had gathered on his way in. Mostly junk, a couple of bills, and a letter that he would bet his entire bank account had come from Hashirama. He would know those graceless spiky letters anywhere. Off on some nature retreat for the past month, there was little doubt this letter would be filled with the same rambling nonsense as the last one had been, lengthy descriptions of the woman he had apparently fallen in love with at first sight. 

Under the hum of halogen lights and the ever present smell of baked goods Tobirama could hear a slight groaning sound that made him smile. Instead of going to look for the source right away he continued to flip through the mail until he had sorted junk from bills, slipping behind the till counter to put everything in its right place. Running their own shop was hard work some days but always worth it in the end. While he was there he tidied a few receipts from the day before and used a nearby rag to wipe off a bit of icing probably smeared around by a customer’s child. Only when he was satisfied that everything was in order did he finally turn to look at the plush couch set just a little ways apart from the rest of the seating area. During peak hours the various armchairs and stools were usually filled with people taking a few minutes to enjoy the treats they had just purchased. 

Since right now was not peak hours the only person to be found was Madara, stretched out across the couch that Tobirama had quietly purchased just for moments like these. A fond smile touched his lips as he watched his favorite idiot rub at a full belly with furrowed brows. 

“How many of those tarts actually made it on to the shelves?” Tobirama called out to him with a lightly scolding tone. 

“Most of them!” Madara shot back. Then he groaned again while both hands paused to delicately cup his stomach. “I could have sworn I only ate a few. Just to taste test. Quality checking is important!” 

“I see.”

The argument might have been a bit more believable if Madara didn’t use the same one every time he overindulged in his own products. He was the one who initially came up with the idea for the two of them to open their own bakery and Tobirama supposed he should have known then that doing so would lead to regular episodes like this one. His husband was an amazing patissier but he was also his own biggest fan. Or his stomach was, at least, and Madara had never been known for denying whatever his stomach wanted. 

“Did you by any chance happen to find time to finish the Sarutobi order before you took your little snack break?” 

“Of course I did,”’ Madara huffed. Generously sacrificing one hand for a moment, he pointed imperiously towards the order counter where there indeed were three boxes with the shop logo printed on the front stacked neatly together and tied with ribbon. Inside there would be a dozen cupcakes each with, if Tobirama was remembering currently, blue icing and rainbow sprinkles arranged to spell out the recipient’s name. A fairly simple order. He wasn’t surprised Madara had finished the whole thing while he was gone, though he was surprised there had been enough time left over to gorge on the tarts he’d put in the oven before he left. 

Since he trusted his partner Tobirama didn’t offer the insult of going to check the order. Instead he mentally checked it off his list of things to do before heading in to the back to go wash his hands. There was still another order he needed to get a start on, although most of it would have to be finished tomorrow. He was fairly sure they wouldn’t have enough icing until their shipment arrived the next morning. 

A quick peek in to the fridge on his way by confirmed his suspicions. Although they still had a tub each of pink and white, yellow was running low and the red was all but entirely gone. If he tried to decorate anything he might have enough to use red for a couple of accents but certainly not enough to cover several dozen cookies in the pattern the order called for. It was a good thing all this wasn’t due to be picked up until late tomorrow. 

Hands clean, Tobirama tied an apron around his middle and began pulling out the ingredients necessary for making his specialty gingerbread, one of the quickest selling items on their menu every winter. When he was younger he never would have believed that life would take him here. As a child he’d mostly been obsessed with science and little else. Most of his career dreams had centered around NASA or biochemical research, plans for changing the world with his magnificent discoveries. Now he co-owned a bakery with his husband and spent most of his days rolling dough or decorating cakes, all in between manning the till and watching children’s faces light up as they picked out which treat they wanted to take home. It was hardly the auspicious career he’d always imagined but it was a good life, full and happy, one that he wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even for the trips to outer space he used to dream about. 

So lost in his own musings was he that it felt as though he’d only just begun mixing the dough when he looked down and found row upon row of perfectly shaped cookies all laid out before him. Some were made to look like people, some like trees, and others still were laid out in thick flat sheets with which he would later build a house. Gingerbread was always quite fun to work with. A quick count told him that he already had everything he needed as well as a couple of spares in case one or two of them burnt in the oven yet there was still just a bit of dough left over.

With a whimsical smile he reached for his tools again and began to shape a new pair of cookies.

Baking gingerbread didn’t take all that long, almost as much time as it took for them to cool once they were back out of the oven, and as he packaged everything to keep it safe for tomorrow he set his final two creations aside. It may have been a whim but he’d never sent anything out of this kitchen that hadn’t received his full effort and he wasn’t about to now. There was, after all, just enough red icing left - not to mention plenty of black. 

Madara was still draped across the couch in the front shop when Tobirama came out to check on him, one of their fancier order boxes in hand. The bellyache appeared to have passed and instead pulled the man down in to a light food coma. Long dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks when Tobirama bent to stroke one of them, rousing his husband from what looked to a very peaceful if possibly undeserved nap. 

“Mnng? I wasn’t asleep.”

“Your snoring tells another story.” 

“T-that wasn’t snoring! I was just humming a song under my breath!” 

Lifting one eyebrow, Tobirama shook his head. “Mhm, very convincing.” 

“Shut up! What’s that? I didn’t think we had anything else going out today. Did I forget something?” Madara frowned and his eyes grew distant as he went over their orders for the week in his head. 

Rather than let him suffer Tobirama simply placed the box in his lap. 

“You forgot to greet me properly when I came back from running errands but I’ll forgive you for that just this once. These are for you, if you’ve still got room in your belly.” 

“Oh?” 

Always intrigued by the promise of more sweets, Madara plucked at the edge of the box to pull the tab keeping it closed out of its slot. He lifted the lid with an almost childish expression of anticipation that morphed in to a graceless full-mouthed gawk when he spotted the gift inside. Much to Tobirama’s horror, he caught sight of what looked to be tears gathering in his husband’s eye.

“Is that...us?” 

“Yes it is.”

“We’re holding hands. And you gave yourself a little fur collar just like your favorite jacket!” 

Tobirama rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. He really liked that jacket. “A little extra detail never hurt anyone,” he murmured as though in protest. 

He was mortified to see Madara cradle the cookies in one palm so he could use his other hand to gently stroke the little red icing lines marking where Tobirama had tattooed his own face during a rebellious youth. The number of times Madara had given those marks the same gentle attention were uncountable and it never failed to draw a little color in to his cheeks, embarrassed that his heart could be so softened by such a simple gesture. 

“Just eat them and go back to moaning about your belly,” he grumbled even as he leaned in to the touch. Madara huffed at him in amusement. 

“What brought this on, hm? I feel like I’m being rewarded for something.” 

“It was a whim and nothing more.” 

Something about that seemed the right thing to say as Madara puffed up like he’d been complimented, as though being gifted cookies made out of leftover dough were the greatest gesture of love. 

“Thinking about me, were you?” his husband asked with a sly undertone. 

“I am always thinking of you,” Tobirama admitted. It was true so he saw no reason to deny it. 

Madara blinked once. “Oh. Well...I’m always thinking of you too. So there!” 

Both of them blushing and flustered, two silly little gingerbread men still held ever so carefully in one of Madara’s palms, Tobirama was eternally grateful there were no customers in the shop to witness the disgustingly sweet scene they were surely making. With a rough clearing of his throat he pulled away and cast his eyes anywhere else in the room. 

“Right,” he said gruffly, “eat your cookies. I’m going to go take inventory so we can call in another supply order tomorrow.” Spinning on his heel relieved him of the sight of his beloved husband cradling such precious if silly gifts but it did not spare him the sound of a quiet voice trailing after his rapid footsteps. 

“I love you.” 

Tobirama wrinkled his nose against the wave of mushy feelings in his chest until the urge to turn around and throw himself down on the couch with his partner had faded. He stepped out with purpose, with dignity, with every intention of going to make himself useful for the rest of the afternoon. But he did pause in the doorway to the kitchen long enough to turn his head to one side. 

“Love you too,” he murmured. 

It felt like capitulation but, then, Madara had already won his heart many years before and the life they’d built together would always be sweeter than any treat he could bake for himself. 

[chrysalispen]

borealis, #1 (Nero/WoL, prompt response)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28633701/chapters/70185441

Prompt: One ship, ten kisses shared. -cheek -forehead -crown of the head -nose -eyelids -lips -neck -thigh -hand -foot

Bonuses if: -1 kiss type per scene, ten scenes total -5 initiated by one partner, 5 by the other.

First prompt response below cut.

==

1. cheek

"Seven hells, it's cold-"

Four words she had never thought would possibly escape her lips, in the five years since she'd left Garlemald, and yet here she was. A sharp, brisk gust of chilly air blew through the crack in the front door before Aurelia Laskaris managed to pull it shut.

One of Coerthas' winter storms had blown off its expected course and produced snow- real snow, too, not the cold rain that had normally wrapped up the year's end ever since the Calamity. Heavy flurries of white now fell in placid sheets upon the denizens of the Lavender Beds, blanketing the adventurers' enclave in winter stillness, and Aurelia found herself quite grateful that she'd not yet managed to set aside the time to reseed her gardens after returning to the Source. Already on her way down the road to get the post she'd heard several of her neighbors grousing about their ruined crops.

She slipped her feet into her soft house shoes and padded into the kitchen, snapping on a nearby light and making a beeline for the automated kettle next to the range. After a moment the rich scent of roasted coffee wafted into the air.

Once she had helped herself to a mug full of the brew Aurelia ambled into her sitting room to admire the fruits of her labors. Holly garlands draped the windows and the rafters, adorned with the same red and gold organza ribbons as the large Coerthan spruce in the corner. All were strewn with lights that cast a soft glow over each leaf and translucent curl. She had fashioned a simple wreath to hang in the kitchen where the cookfire burned low to keep the night's meal warm for gradual consumption, and it sat in its place above the mahogany dish rack. Beneath the low lights and the fresh smell of evergreen and apples and cinnamon, her orchestrion trundled quietly through a selected collection of songs.

As she gazed at the tree the tilt of her smile took on a pensive cast. The greenhouse at the Laskaris villa - her de facto domain - had been wholly subject to her uncle and his austere aesthetic sensibilities. Every leaf and branch had had to be bound and trimmed and neatly in place. In the seven years she had lived there, not a single ilm of the family property had been allowed to have Aurelia's touch upon it. Not even the room in which she'd stayed when out of school on term breaks.

The little forest cottage wouldn't be seen as much in the way of wealth, not back in the capitol. To the eyes of her aunt and uncle, or anyone else in her family for that matter, it would be positively rustic if not outright primitive. It didn't have a magitek greenhouse or a central heating system, and precious few technological amenities. But nearly every piece of furniture in it had been fashioned by her own hand. Including the decorations she now admired.

This was her place. That was what mattered.

"You look in a fine mood," a voice drifted upwards from the cushions of the sectional. Aurelia grinned and set the mug down upon the low-slung table.

"I was just thinking about how much I enjoy having my own house."

"Must say I rather enjoy you having a house myself, all things considered." She felt a slight nudge against her side, followed by a faint clatter. Nero was sitting up, the tomestone in his hand having joined her coffee mug on the side table. "...It looks good, by the by."

"What does- oh. The tree? You wouldn't believe the ridiculous lengths I had to go to in order to get that here."

"Having involved myself in your adventures on multiple occasions, I assume shenanigans of some sort must necessarily be involved unless otherwise stated. You've something of a knack for finding trouble."

"Trouble which you have instigated on more than one occasion."

"As I said," that grin was all teeth, "you've a knack for finding trouble. And speaking of finding things, I'll be back in a moment."

Aurelia watched him amble through the stairwell entrance and turn the corner past the orchestrion to make his descent. She noted (with some considerable amount of personal amusement) that for all her grousing about the former tribunus' presence at the combined Ironworks-Scions Starlight party Tataru had also made Nero a natty holiday jumper - and she'd even knitted it using yarn she had dyed in his favorite color. All the more surprising, although he had not said a word about the gathering since, was the fact he was actually wearing it.

Her smile returned as she retrieved her mug.

The coffee was half gone by the time he returned, this time bearing a rather bulky unwrapped box in his hands. He shifted it from his shoulder to his hands with a soft grunt that indicated it was every ilm as heavy as it appeared. "I was going to give this to you later," he explained, setting it down in front of her feet, "but as usual I've no idea when either of us might be off again."

"A gift?" Still smiling, Aurelia set the mug aside. "Since when do you celebrate Eorzean holidays?"

" 'When in Allag', and all that. And Mistress Tataru, despite her threats, did leave the pins out of the undertunic she gave me." A brief smirk tilted his mouth. "I do believe your little secretary likes me more than she lets on."

"Or she's resigned herself to your presence. For Cid's sake, you know."

"You jest, but this is actually a joint gift from myself and Garlond. As you know, he's had to return to Othard. Thus, I am the one tasked with presenting it." At her hesitation, he urged, "Go on, open it."

With some effort she lifted the box into her lap. It was a standard-issue imperial transport container made of reinforced black steel, and the base was cold enough that it radiated a chill even through her breeches; she winced when its weight settled into her thighs. Carefully she unfastened the latches and lifted the lid-

-and her eyes went wide at its contents. "...This is-"

"A portable refrigerated centrifuge."

"Where in the seven hells did you find one of these? I haven't set hand to a personal centrifuge in years. The medical laboratory at Castrum Novum just used those massive consoles that they'd built to set-"

"Into the wall mounts in the old R&D sectors, yes. At any rate, I plucked the original from one of the research bays- not that it was functional when I found it, mind, but there are schematics in the archives for just about anything one can imagine."

"Surely it wasn't necessary to go to all that trouble."

"That is where you would be wrong," he said dryly, lifting the centrifuge from its storage with considerable effort. The angle was somewhat awkward, and it wobbled for a moment before Aurelia was able to brace her hands and take it from him. He fastened the latches and reached over the arm of the sofa to set the container out of the way. "There were several specific components I required for the modified buildout which, one can safely say, cannot be sourced via other means."

"Precisely how much did you modify it?" Aurelia tilted the heavy tool this way and that, watching the lights from the tree shimmer over its smoothly brushed surface. "...I'm not about to find an operable magitek laser turret tucked into the rotor or something equally daft, am I?"

He squinted at her but chose to ignore the remark. "Aside from a minor tweak for improved performance, as it happens there was only one major modification to the original build. For practicality's sake."

"Only one?"

"Only one. Why?"

She pressed a hand to her chest in mock surprise.

"That sort of self-restraint isn't like you at all. Are you certain you're well?"

"Trying to be funny again, I see." He cast his eyes to the heavens. "I shall have you know it was his idea."

"Oh? That's a surprise."

"The auxiliary power source normally would need to be connected to a ceruleum generator for a charge, but this design utilizes aetheric energy harnessed from a corrupted crystal. Some wild hair of Garlond's cobbled together on a previous project with some degree of success, if the sales are any indication." His smile faded, lips pursed as if he'd bitten into some particularly sour piece of fruit. "...Given it sprouted from one of those half-baked experiments of his, I suppose it functions reasonably well."

He sounded rather surly - rankling, perhaps, at his own acknowledgment that he had needed Cid's assistance in order to complete the gift. When she wrenched her focus away from her silent admiration of the customized chassis (which was, of course, a deep wine red), his brows were knit together in a faint scowl that indexed that line nigh to the lower curve of his third eye.

Aurelia leaned over and gently brushed her lips against his cheek. It was warm and smooth, devoid of its customary evening shadow; she realized he must have taken a razor to his jaw earlier in the day. The earthy scent of sandalwood shaving soap lingered in her nose for a moment before she righted herself.

"If you frown like that every time you have to swallow your pride to ask for his help," she warned, poking his broad nose with one gentle fingertip, "you'll give yourself wrinkles."

"You mean more wrinkles," he groused. "In case you've not noticed, I'm not getting any younger."

"Yes, nigh on thirty-seven* winters now," Aurelia said with a perfectly straight face, though the mischievous twinkle that lit her dark blue eyes was impossible to miss. "Well past one's prime, in my professional opinion. Ancient. Antediluvian."

"Utterly decrepit," he sighed. The scowl had smoothed from his brow, and she knew by the lazy and unguarded drawl which now laced his words that he was no longer annoyed. "I'll be naught but dust by the time I'm forty."

"Doubtless. You could practically pass for an Allagan relic now- that is, if you weren't more easily mistaken for a bloody dhalmel."

Nero laughed aloud at last, the fine lines winging out from the corners of his eyes crinkling with his mirth, and wrapped his arms around her smaller frame - centrifuge and all. "Flattery will get you everywhere, hero," he said. "Come here."

She seated herself atop his thighs as if he were one of her reading cushions and relinquished her prize, shaking out the pins and needles in her arms as he set it next to the table, then returned to his full-body lounge. His woolen-clad arms lay draped over her forearms in a loose, casual sort of way, something almost but not quite an embrace.

Aurelia considered extricating herself to get more coffee, but the combined assault of the fireplace's crackle with the cable knit of Tataru's scarlet jumper seemed to beckon her into a warm and happy torpor, and the notion of leaving it aside even for a few moments seemed far too much effort so she pillowed her cheek against his broad chest. He was all angles and lean muscle but comfortable enough regardless. "Seriously though," she said, "I mean it. Please be at least somewhat mindful of your safety in future. That was a great deal of risk just for a blueprint and some parts."

"Come now, it wasn't that much trouble." His light tenor was only barely louder than the strong thump of the heartbeat she could hear with one ear just beneath his collarbone. "I all but strolled through the gates, and Garlond sent the very appropriately named Biggs along with me. Safe as houses."

Aurelia raised a skeptical brow - she had no doubt that more must have happened than he was letting on - but said only: "You're going to have to tell me all about it after I've set this up in my workspace."

"Ah." He cleared his throat. "I had... rather hoped I could be there when you do. So I can show you what changes were made, mind."

Even as the words left his mouth she watched the tips of Nero's ears turn pink, the same shade as the flush along his nose and cheekbones - neither of which could be attributed to the warmth of the room. She found it terribly cute but wasn't about to embarrass him further by saying so. "I'd like that very much," she beamed. "But it's rather late tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"I-" A hesitation, then a half-tilted smile. "...Tomorrow it is."

She pushed at the heavy chassis beneath the table with one stocking-clad toe and leaned comfortably into his side with a yawn. The last two days had been rather eventful but the sofa cushions were plush and cozy, the room was warm and quiet and dimly lit, and she was in the company of a close friend in a house she'd chosen for herself, drinking coffee and watching the snow fall in silent sheets through the windows.

For the moment at least, she was content. It was a good state of mind.

"Had I known you'd be this pleased I'd have prevailed upon Garlond much sooner," came the low, teasing rumble from the man whose cheek was now resting upon the crown of her head. She poked him gently in the side.

"That's because you're actually a good sort when you want to be, you know. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I won't even tell Tataru."

"Excellent. I should hate to have your lot think that perhaps I might enjoy their company. Can you imagine how ghastly that would be?"

"Making friends? The absolute horror of it all. Though I'm afraid you'll not be able to fool Alisaie or Tataru as long as you imagine. Or Y'shtola for that matter- she's rather discerning." Aurelia paused. "Also, she is quite often more than slightly terrifying."

"I shall take that as a friendly warning."

At his quiet scoff, she allowed herself a brief chuckle before her own smile faded somewhat.

"You really didn't have to do this, you know-"

"That's three times you've attempted to apologize. Don't. You're overthinking matters, as per usual," Nero said mildly. "Accept it in the spirit which it was intended- such is the purpose of this exchange, after all, so Garlond says. I did it because I wanted to do it, and that is reason enough."

She was going to ruin the moment if she said anything else, so she didn't. Instead she reached for the other hand that lay free in his lap. He let her lace his fingers through hers without comment, and when she squeezed he squeezed back.

They said nothing else after that for a long time. They sat together in comfortable silence before the hearth fire watching the wind spit snow onto the frosty window by the huge tree, and Aurelia found herself wishing every Starlight could end so well.

[casualmaraudering]

after 2342394 years we have a second chapter

***

The bedroom is pitch black when Sirius wakes up. And right from the moment he opens his eyes, he feels like death.

His throat is dry and sore - as if he’s caught a nasty cold or spent the past two days drinking - and his eyes feel heavy and wet. He’s sweaty, there’s a rather painful squeeze to his stomach, and his head is pounding.

None of it comes as a surprise, really. He always feels like shit whenever his body decides to catch up on sleep - it’s funny, almost. When he doesn’t sleep at all - he feels awful. And then when he sleeps for more than absolutely necessary - he ends up just as bad, if not worse. A lose-lose situation, his sleeping habits.

There’s a moment of hesitation before he reluctantly reaches for his phone.

4.52AM

Undoubtedly, the worst part about his body catching up after bad episodes is how it fucks up his mood. The wrecking guilt for waisting 14 goddamn hours is already set heavy in his stomach. He’s wasted the whole evening - and in his current situation, he can’t fucking afford to do that. He could’ve gone shopping - there’s barely any food in the fridge - or done his schoolwork, or even just spend time with his brother.

And God, thinking about Regulus always manages to make Sirius feels even worse.

Cause he’s supposed to be better than the goddamn fuckup he currently is. He should be able to set a good example. But he can’t. Hell, he feels that Regulus is the one taking care of him more often than the other way around.

Sometimes, Sirius wonders whether he should’ve left Reg at Grimmauld. To live a privileged, rich life they were so used to, with cooks and maids and no worry in the world on his head. They’ve always liked Regulus better anyway - it’s Sirius who’s always been the rebel, the improper one, the hated one. The queer one, though that came a bit later (and it’s not like Sirius ever told anyone. That would’ve gotten him thrown out, and he couldn’t let that happen - he needed to leave on his own terms, with Regulus in tow). Maybe they never would’ve hit Regulus? He knows how to behave, after all.

Yet Sirius couldn’t bring himself to chance it. He can’t stomach the thought of his little brother alone in that godforsaken place. Even if Sirius fucks up at being an adult, at least he can assure Regulus grows up loved and without anyone ever raising their hand on him. It’s all he can do for now.

But, while Sirius would love to stay in bed for the rest of the day - or possibly the rest of time - and sink deeper into the pit of despair he’s fallen into, he can’t. Not when he’s got work at 8 and so many things to do before that. The disgusting mood will stay, just like it always does, but Sirius can just lie his way through the mental disarray he’s got going on. He might be a fuck up, but he’s a fuck up responsible for a human being that needs tending to. If it weren’t for Regulus, well… Sirius probably wouldn’t make it as far as today.

So, with a bit of difficulty, he gets up. Right away he gets overwhelmingly dizzy, and his stomach churns with discomfort. He groans in annoyance and sways towards the bathroom. What a way to start the day indeed.

After throwing up (and dry heaving for a bit, because he hasn’t eaten in a good while, so there’s not really much to vomit with), Sirius follows his usual routine of loo-teeth-shower-hair drying. It makes him feel a bit better, at least. He throws the clothes he fell asleep in into the hamper (he needs to do the laundry sometime today, he notes) and trots to his bedroom to look for something to wear.

He checks his phone while squeezing himself into his jeans (not as tight as he’d usually go for - he wants to be able to move comfortably at work) and finds he has several messages.

There’s a few from James - nothing important, either random things he did throughout the day or memes. One from Lily, telling him there’s Chinese in the fridge for when he wakes up and that if he tries to slip her the money for it, she’ll slit his throat (typical, but Sirius will find a way to pay her back anyway).

And then, there’s one that actually makes Sirius smile.

From: Remus

6.21PM

Hope you dream about something nice tonight.

Sirius wished he didn’t remember all the extremely embarrassing things he had said to Remus yesterday - declaring love after knowing the man for five minutes being icing on the cake - but they’re stuck in his memory, ready to taunt him tonight when he inevitably won’t be able to sleep. Though, seeing as Remus did send him a text, maybe not all is lost?

To: Remus

5.20AM

I had the nicest dream. Guess who was in it ;)

There’s no harm in hoping, at least.

****

After getting breakfast (and praising Lily for thoughtfulness, because of course, the fridge is empty), Sirius goes through as many chores as he can before he has to hurry off to work. He puts the laundry on, gets groceries - cringes at the bill extremely, but he can’t just feed his brother instant ramen - and even cleans the kitchen a bit. He puts some toast into the toaster (without the crusts, and leaves a kettle full of freshly boiled water next to a box of green tea) and goes to wake Regulus. It’s not that Sirius necessarily needs to - the kid has a phone with an alarm, after all - but he likes it. It makes him feel more involved; more like an actual responsible brother.

Upon knocking on his door, before even Sirius has a chance to enter, he hears a loud groan; Sirius chuckles at that as he steps inside. While he himself had always been an early riser, Regulus loathes mornings more than anything in the world.

“Rise and shine, Your Majesty,” Sirius says brightly, leaning against the doorway. He smiles as he watches Regulus pull the covers over his head.

“‘eout-”

“No can do, you have a maths test today. Out of bed, sir.”

“Mhmm.”

“If I don’t see you at breakfast in ten minutes, I’m dumping a bucket of cold water right on your head.”

“‘u w’ldn’t. You’d h’ve to clean.”

Sirius laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Ten minutes,” he only says, stepping back and closing the door again.

It’s fifteen minutes until Regulus, sleepy and visibly very grumpy, stomps into the kitchen and sits himself next to Sirius at the kitchen table (Sirius lets him have 20 minutes - if it’s more than that, he always finds he had fallen back asleep).

“I’ll be back from work at 6,” he says, passing a cup of tea to his brother, who takes it without even slight hesitation. “D’you wanna wait for me and have dinner then, or do you want to order in?”

“I’ll be back later too,” Regulus informs him, taking small sips of his tea (he takes his tea ridiculously hot, Sirius had learned, which he simply stopped questioning it after a while). “I have a project to do with a friend. I’ll be at her house.”

“A friend, huh?” Sirius’s mouth raises in a smirk. “And what’s that friend’s name?”

Regulus rolls his eyes and huffs. “Amelia.”

Sirius smiles harder. “And are you and Amelia good friends?”

“Oh stop that.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. ‘m not doing anything.”

“Yes you are!” Regulus says in frustration. “You’re doing the girls thing. She’s not my girlfriend or anything, I don’t like her like that. She’s just a friend.”

Sirius’s gaze softens, and he ends up ruffling Reg’s hair - something he knows Regulus extremely hates.

“I know, I’m just joking around.”

He trusts - and hopes - Regulus would tell him if he started being interested in someone. Both of them aren’t really the type to talk about things like that anyway. Regulus, of course, knows Sirius is gay, but Sirius rarely talks about any boyfriends. Though, that might be cause he doesn’t really do that. Not since they left their parents, anyway.

And it’s not he doesn’t want to; it just never seems like the right time. He’s far too busy with school and then work and then caring for his brother - there’s nowhere to squeeze in dates. And sure, every now and again James and Lily drag him out of the house for the evening, but he never ends up coming home with anybody either; the anxiety about leaving his brother alone for the night is too much. Regulus isn’t a little kid anymore, but Sirius feels he shouldn’t leave him alone for a whole night. Not just yet, at least.

“So when will you be home?” Sirius asks, leaving the table to get his gear on and look for his bike keys (he always manages to loose them, somehow). Thank God for his bike - if it weren't for her, Sirius would be late for work pretty much every day, with how late he leaves the house.

“At 8, maybe?”

“No later than 9, okay? And give me a call if you need me to pick you up.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re grounded if you’re here a second after nine.”

He hears Regulus snort in reply. He walks to the kitchen, ruffles his brother’s hair once again (and earns a very displeased noise in response) and makes his way out the door.

By that time, Sirius’s stomach has settled, and although his head is still throbbing, and he still feels like shit, he’s confident the day at work should pass swiftly. Or so he hopes, at least.

And an hour into the workday, he’s proven wrong.

Working as a mechanic is, obviously, incredibly messy and even more tiring, but today everything seems to go slightly wrong; fussy customers, parts falling onto his feet or hands, accidental burns, and an oil spill all over his trousers. And that’s just little over an hour since he clocked in.

If only he could quit, he would.

Except he has barely any cash in his bank account right now, and it’s not like he has Mummy and Daddy’s fortune to rely on anymore. There’s some savings in his account, but that’s only for emergencies, and it’s not like it’s much. Not enough for rent and utilities, anyway.

Thinking about that always makes Sirius’s stomach clench uncomfortably. He’s so damn tired all the time from constant work, and all his muscles ache at the end of the day, and then there’s always something left to do at home. There’s not really much he can do about that other than to suck it up. It always comes down to Regulus anyway. Sirius isn’t doing it for himself - he wants Reg to have a good life, a happy life, not to be miserable like Sirius had been back in their family home.

He just wants his brother to be happy and healthy, and if that means having to work a few too many hours, then be it.

Sirius’s day passes in a blur of oil spills, clunking of metal, and about four cups of coffee, before he can finally make his way back home and drop onto the couch in exhaustion. The tension in his shoulders aches deeply whenever he moves; the skin on his hands is irritated and red (he really should invest in some moisturizer), and his hair feels uncomfortably dirty even if he's washed it today morning. He could stay on the couch forever.

But of course, life calls. Or more like texts.

And by life, he means James.

From: Prongs 🥰

6.15PM

pub??? now???? come pls?? i miss you :(

Sirius sighs deeply (and probably far too dramatically). He’s exhausted, and sore, and he wouldn’t even be able to drink because Reggie might call him for a ride later. All he wants is to crawl into bed right now, and hope he can sleep for even just a little bit tonight.

But then, he hasn’t seen his friends in what feels like ages and he genuinely misses them. It might be a bad choice, but well... if there’s one thing Sirius is known for, it’s making bad choices. So he agrees.

He quickly cooks dinner, just so there’s something to heat up when Regulus is back, and leaves a post-it note on the counter in case Regulus is home before him. Then, just as he’s about to throw on his jacket again and rush out the door, a thought pops into his mind. 

He pulls out his phone, sends a quick texts, and leaves his flat.

To: Remus

6.21PM

any chance you wanna come down to Three Broomsticks for a pint? my treat

[hippriestess]

Part 2: Cherry-picking

Cherry Red had been releasing The Fall's new music since 2011's “Ersatz GB” and we already knew that Smith had signed a further deal with them to look after what portion of the group's catalogue he owned. They had already made a start with the handsome seven disc “Singles 1978 - 2016” box set they had released late in 2017 (alongside a cut-down three disc “A Sides” collection). The set had originally been scheduled for release in 2016 but the production deadline for the all-important Christmas market was missed and the set was held back until after “New Facts Emerge” - from which no singles were taken - had been released. Following Smith's passing, the seven-disc edition sold out and was unavailable for a short time before Cherry Red did the decent thing and made a few more.

A reissue of  1997's “Levitate” had been in the works for a while; Smith had signed off the tracklisting and there had been a trailer of sorts with a Record Store Day-only 7” of “Masquerade” in 2017. Given that the album had been in contractual limbo for quite some time with original vinyl copies fetching 3 figures on the open market, Cherry Red's first posthumous release felt like a public service,  doing the right thing both by Smith and by the fans. Released towards the end of May 2018, the new 2CD/3LP edition was justly well received and some kindly reviews appeared with mostly positive re-evaluations of one of their most awkward albums. Hindsight benefits the record; if it sounds like they were falling to bits, it's because they were and now that we know not just what happened next but how the whole story of The Fall continued for another 20 years, it has context. For the record (Portugal), yr present author is no more fond of the album than she was 7 or 8 years ago but “Ol' Gang” has clicked into focus and the second disc puts those great b-sides from the “Masquerade” CD singles back onto the shelves so it would have to be considered necessary.

Less impressive was “58 Golden Greats”, released at the end of 2018. A 3CD set in a clamshell box, this was, in essence, an extended version of the classic “50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong” collection from 2004, extending the tracklist to cover the remainder(er) of the group's career. It actually expands on the original in other ways, adding several songs from the era covered in the original version; the puzzling omission of “Big New Prinz” is corrected for one thing and other singles are added such as  “Oh! Brother” and “Dead Beat Descendent”. Perhaps Beggars Banquet were more co-operative this time. Whilst one could always quibble with any attempt at a Fall “best of”, yr present author was not taken with this one and my purse remained closed. 58 was an unwieldy number (why not a round 60?), the cover artwork – a spoof of a different Elvis Presley sleeve – was far from appealing and the entry-point value of “50,000...” was lost, a 3 disc set at £17 being too big a serving at too high a price for the merely curious. However, it looks as if I'm just flat-out in the wrong. As we'll continually see, Cherry Red aren't just experienced, they are also smart and do not lack savvy. I'm sat here keyboard-griping while “58 Golden Greats” is sold out. Enough said.

In 2019, Cherry Red announced the beginning of the Fall Sound Archive, the title of which gave the air of a mission to preserve The Fall's work for future generations. Inevitably, they were starting with 40th Anniversary editions of “Live At The Witch Trials” and “Dragnet”. There was early disappointment. The 3CD edition of “Live At The Witch Trials” contained the exact same music as the 2CD edition from 2004 but spread over three discs. Any thoughts that the decision at least preserved the sanctity of the original 11 song album were hampered by the 3CD edition of “Dragnet” containing, as disc 1, the exact same running order – with single and outtakes – as the 2004 CD edition. The other two discs were 2 of the little-loved “Live From The Vaults” series (of which, more later, sort of..). The archive was perhaps, not so deep.

However, the plus points were the vinyl editions, which had been hatched with obvious care. Using the rare US edition of “LATWT” with an alternate sleeve and revised running order was a clever touch and one that acknowledged that the Fall's audience would need something more than just a nice colour of vinyl before they indulged the album yet again. Similarly, “Dragnet” came with a reproduction 7” of “Rowche Rumble”, a record which originally came with the thinnest paper sleeve in the history of music. That's not to say that we didn't get coloured vinyl, oh we did - “LATWT” came of red vinyl to match the US sleeve and “Dragnet” on black and white “splatter” vinyl. These both sold well, sold quickly and sold out, now being tricky to score except on the Discogs etc market. But perhaps more to the point, they suggested that Cherry Red's experience and nouse would, at minimum, keep things interesting.

Later in 2019, the Kamera catalogue came under Cherry Red's microscope and it was another mixed set of releases. For CD buyers, a 6 disc set called “(1982)” was developed. This contained “Hex Enduction Hour”, “Room To Live” “Fall In A Hole” various single and live tracks and the “Live To Air In Melbourne” album which had previously snuck out in the late 90's when MES was broke. There was no new music to be had here at all – everything had previously been released. As such £40 was too rich a price tag for many and the edition is still easily available. The new vinyl edition of “Hex” was well particularly well presented. For the first time, the 60 minute LP was cut onto 4 sides of vinyl – a long overdue move, this did the album real justice on the format and would have to be considered an essential for those who insist on twelve-inch slabs of wax for their music. A pleasing, sturdy fold-out sleeve showed that corners were not being cut, the vinyl again matched the colour scheme of the artwork and it also came with an excellent reproduction of the sterling “Look, Know/I'm Into C.B.” 45. What spoiled it a little bit was the inclusion of a third LP with Peel Session #5 on one side and some of the live tracks from the 2005 Sanctuary 2CD on the other. All this really did was drive up the price – a double LP with the 7” would have been perfect and would have been less heavy on the purse *NB – this didn't stop me buying it – that's my copy in the picture...). “Room To Live” was given a vinyl reissue too, this time as a double LP with sides 3 and 4 being the live tracks from the 2005 Sanctuary edition. Again, this didn't quite feel like the right choice – an alternative idea would have been a single LP with a 7”. Given that the classic “Lie Dream Of A Casino Soul/Fantastic Life” single had been added to the popular, widely owned German pressing, why not add a repro of that instead? It would have cost less and added more value to the package.

Despite these whinges “(1982)” would have to be considered an elegant, practical solution to a latter-day problem and demonstrates why Cherry Red remain a market leader in catalogue reissues. Can you really sell compact discs of these albums yet again? How else do you present the music in this format? The answer to parcel the whole lot together and present it as a “year-in-the-life” was a smart one that was only hampered by an optimistic £40 price tag (which translated to as much as £58 in stores) and the artwork being based on “Hex” which could have given a more casual customer the notion that the set was Hex and 5 discs of “other” material. The bottom line here is that there is nothing else in the cupboard; as with the IAKO ballet and the Hey! Luciani play, fantasies about things like the unedited “Winter” and the full 20+ minute “And This Day” ever appearing are exactly that – fantasies. Were they ever preserved, they're gone and anything that did turn up, almost 40 years hence would likely be in such a state of degeneration as to be unlistenable. From now on, all that can be done is to keep this material out there and try to present it with a fresh angle. That's precisely what Cherry Red have done here.

Come 2020, come the challenge of reselling what is not just one of the most widely-distributed but also one of the worst Fall albums: “Reformation Post TLC”. Cherry Red stuck to type with a double LP pressed into blue and red coloured vinyl, again matching the colour to the sleeve. Undoubtedly a handsome package, this version was snapped up with some enthusiasm although it does seem that sales were likely harmed by coinciding with the early, uncertain, often panic-stricken days of the Covid-19 pandemic reaching the UK. The 4CD edition was daunting: the whole album and 2 CDs worth of outtakes and rough mixes, followed by the “Last Night At The Palais” CD. The “Last Night At The Palais” DVD was not included. Time has passed, time has healed and it is clear that RPTLC is a terrific EP stretched out beyond the energy of the participants. There is even a strong 40 minute single LP to be had within its contents but, hey it was what it was. With almost all of the unreleased mixes having no vocals, interest wears off before we got to the excellent live disc but, on the other paw, Cherry Red have done exactly what we want; it is highly unlikely that there is anything left from the album sessions; this is the whole lot, every scrap. Up to us now what we do with them.

****************************

Now, if you're thinking I've skipped something, you're right but the story of The Fall's posthumous discography is difficult to tell in a linear fashion. So I invite you, friends, to join me in a diversion. Cast your minds back to Record Store Day 2019.  

Cherry Red played a good hand by releasing a new vinyl edition of the superb “Imperial Wax Solvent” album. As with “Levitate”, vinyl copies were going for silly money, Universal having allegedly pressed a mere 500 for the world. It was a shame that Cherry Red therefore added only another 500 copies, this time pressed into yellow vinyl. These were almost entirely snapped up on the day and copies of this edition are routinely offered at £50-60.  “IWS” had, of course, been out of print since 2008, having been deleted less than 6 months after its release. As such the RSD edition of  “IWS” could be said to have undersold the record somewhat. Unless, of course, a properly “available” edition, maybe with that unreleased original mix of the album was to follow at some point...more on that later.

Sadly, we must also wade through the other Fall releases that were curled out for RSD 2019. That will take us into Part 3...