#a few times and they just shouted at him to leave

[abbotsanatomy]

Jack x reader

Possessive & Protective Jack. Reader is the hospital social worker. Jack finds out a grieving family member has been stalking and harassing reader.!

⨳ (I’LL BE WATCHING YOU)

pairing: jack abbot x social worker!reader warnings: age gap (28, and 49), depictions of stalking, grief, child death, epilepsy (seizures), verbal assault, physical assault. author's note: this was a rough one to write tbh! hope u like! title’s totally inspired by ‘every breath you take,’ i love double meanings lol

“Good morning!” you greet, strolling into the ER break room.

You set aside the coffees you bought for everyone. It's your turn to bring everyone their fix tonight. They're nothing fancy, as can be expected from someone who earns almost half of what everyone else around here does.

You pick one of the brown coffee cups up from the paper cupholder on the counter, “Or, Y'know. Good night?”

“Live-saver!” one of the second-year residents yells. She's quick to grab one of the coffees, too.

The few people in the break room do the same, thanking you along the way. They slowly filter out, presumably going to tell everyone the break room's stocked up again so they can get their own before it's all gone.

It's just you and Dana Evans in the small room now. She's never been one for rushing home the moment her shift's over. She always lingers, you feel like you might know her even better than the night shift's charge nurse. The affinity you have for her can also be attributed, in huge part, to the fact that the veteran charge nurse reminds you of Dr.Abbot.

“Hey, kid. I heard what happened yesterday,” she starts. “Are you good?”

Wow. Word gets around much quicker than you expected. What happened yesterday should've been less than a blip on someone like Dana's radar.

The situation in question was just a grieving parent who'd said some pretty nasty things to you. He was in shock. You understand. You have to; it's your job.

His anger was justified. You were partially responsible for him missing his kid's last few moments. The memories kept you up all day.

The girl was barely two. When they came in, she was having an epileptic seizure that wouldn't go away. Upon further investigation, the doctors, with a neuro consult, told her father there was a surgery that could reduce her seizures. He'd heard about it before, but he was skeptical.

Apparently, having had his seizing daughter in his arms, unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance changed his mind.

There was one minor problem, though. Before they could get his daughter prepped for surgery, the hospital needed his insurance documents. She was stable; this wasn't emergency surgery. So the financial aspect was, unfortunately, a priority.

“Her mother's out of town. It's just me. I can't leave her alone,” he'd told you.

“Well, she still needs to be monitored for a while. And I understand you want the surgery immediately,” you'd reasoned with him. “Maybe you can make it home and back quickly, before she wakes up.”

He was hesitant at first, but you were determined. You'd help where you can.

“I'll be with her the whole time. I promise. Our doctors will do the best they can to make sure she's comfortable and safe.”

Safe. What a stupid word to use. She wasn't safe when he came back. She was dead.

She'd had another seizure minutes after he left. The entire medical team tried their best, you know that. You were there, holding her hand through it all. Begging her to stay strong for her dad.

When he came back, he was held back by security as he shouted all kinds of evil truths at you.

“You bitch.”

“You all killed her.”

“I could've been here if it wasn't for you!”

It was all true.

His words have replayed in your mind ever since. So, no, you aren't good. But there's nothing a charge nurse you're sure has been through worse can do about it, so you won't tell her.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me,” you lie, straight to her face.

You have a feeling she doesn't believe you, but she's also smart enough to recognize when someone doesn't want to talk about something. So, she drops it.

“Alright. Be kind to yourself, okay? Take some time off if you need it,” she advises, and you trust her judgement. It isn't like you'll listen to her, though.

“Okay. I'll try.”

Dana walks out of the break room, but not before giving you a long hug. On a good day, you'd be soaring with happiness. Today, it makes you feel just slightly better.

You're mid-sip when your favorite attending walks in. Jack looks shocked to see you. He'd given you the exact same advice Dana just did. You'd obviously not taken it.

He walks towards the counter you're leaning against. You feel like he's about to tell you off. He just stands there for a long moment. Then, he's searching your face for something. A sign of distress, maybe?

He doesn't find whatever it is he's looking for. You smile at how ridiculous this staring habit of his is.

“Are you good?” he parrots Dana.

Your brows crease, “Have you and Nurse Evans been talking about me?”

Jack looks confused.

“I'm fine. I'm great, even. Okay?” you demand.

He nods, but it's very hesitant.

“I have a shrink. I'm seeing her after work. You don't have to worry about me,” you reiterate.

Everything he could say was said yesterday. He reassured you for thirty minutes after, brought you water and food in between patients. There's nothing more he can say right now.

He just grabs one of the coffees you brought, “Thank you.”

His tone's a little too sincere for what this is. You'll take it.

You both exit the break room and part ways to get on with your shifts. His eyes are front and center in your mind the entire time, especially when you need some comfort.

You've been on edge lately. You're flinching at things you aren't supposed to. You close your curtains whenever you're home alone. You just can't shake this feeling that you're being watched.

The 90$-an-hour therapist you visit once a month says it's a symptom of your PTSD. That's of no consequence, because the anxiety feels as real as can be. Your nerves are fried all the time.

You need a break. There's one person in particular you want to spend your time off with. He's been invited to your apartment for dinner tonight. Thankfully, Jack hasn’t embarrassed you by rejecting your invitation.

He's just texted you that he's on his way now. You're in the kitchen with your cooking playlist playing in the background. It's the kind of mellow moment you haven't experienced in weeks. You're bringing the wooden mixing spoon up to your mouth to get a taste, when the moment's rudely interrupted.

Someone's pulling you back, with their arm tightly wrapped around your throat. This isn't psychosis, paranoia, or PTSD. This is real.

You try to hit back with the spoon in your hand, but it quickly clatters to the floor, splattering soup everywhere.

Your next line of defense is clawing your way out. Literally. You scratch and pull away at the stranger's arm. It's minimally effective. You're trying to scream out for help, too. It barely comes out as a squeak.

Your vision's getting blurry, when you feel someone tackle the intruder, bringing them to the floor. You can hear an altercation happening on your floor, right next to where you're coughing up a storm, just trying to catch your breath again.

Someone's landing more than a few punches, in the distance. The sound becomes much less distressing when you realize it's Jack who has the upper hand in this fight. His eyes lack the tenderness they usually have when you’re staring back at them.

“Jack...” you croak out, trying to pull him out of it.

He stops, pulling the guy under him up by the collar. That's when you realize it's the same grieving man who was shouting at you in the middle of the PTMC’s emergency room, less than a week ago.

Jack slams him against your kitchen wall, his arm pinning the man in place by the throat. On the floor, beside you, is a set of pictures. They must've fallen from the man’s pocket mid-brawl. They're all of you. At your therapist's office. At home. At work.

He's been watching you, following you. The realization fills you with dread.

You pull your phone out and dial 911 immediately.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his eyes still set on the man in front of him.

“Yes, I'm fine. Be gentle,” you tell him.

He shakes his head subtly. He'd be smiling a little too, if he wasn't so angry at the man in front of him. Of course, you'd want him to be gentle with the man who was about to kill you. You've always seen the best in everyone.

He can’t ever deny you a thing, so he's as gentle as he can be, with how furious he is right now.

“911, what's your emergency?” you hear on the other end.

Jack takes care of it all. Tells the officers what happened, shows them the pictures, escorts them out. All you could manage for now was a few hums in agreement to the questions the officers asked you.

Once they left, Jack came to sit beside you on the couch. Now, he’s been staring at your neck intensely. You can tell he wants to take a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Nope,” you answer, pulling your hair to the side.

His fingers are gentle on your neck, as they graze the bruise forming there.

His voice is tight, like he's still barely containing his anger, “It looks alright. It'll just be slightly bruised.”

You nod, “Thank you. For everything.”

Your hand finds his, interlocking your fingers. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, to place a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand. You grin, and finally look up from the spot on your carpet you’d been staring at.

There's a cut on his cheek, still bleeding. You bring your other hand to rest on his cheek, pressing your mouth to the skin beside the cut.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you offer.

It's almost like he didn't even hear you, though. “You probably shouldn't go to work tomorrow.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, probably.

“Can you stay?” you propose, barely louder than a whisper.

You're asking because it'd make you feel safer. He can tell. He agrees, immediately.

You pull your hand away to go grab the first aid kit in your bathroom cabinet. You're also rehearsing how you're going to convince him to sleep in your bed with you, instead of the couch. He ends up being very easy to convince.

[losers-clvb]

hunters' reunion sam winchester x female!reader

content: smut (fingering, dirty talk, public sex, nonconsensual voyeurism), dom!sam, established relationship

word count: 737

note: this is actually a part of an answer for an ask, but it got a bit out of hand, so i decided why not turn it into a little blurb! enjoy!

Sam and Dean aren't usually the type to go to these types of things, but the moment you heard Jody mention a “hunters’ reunion”, you're begging them to go. You missed the community of your old life, though you would never admit it out loud.

Upon arrival, it was clear that every hunter within driving distance had chosen to attend. You dragged Sam through the crowds, laughing and chatting it up. The other hunters are impressed that the Winchesters have made an appearance, some even more impressed that a girl like yourself could get the infamous Sam Winchester to do just about anything with a bat of your lashes.

Night comes and the few still lingering guests, including some you know personally, are gathered around a bonfire. The array of mismatched chairs are small in quantity, so you make no complaints when Sam drags you onto his lap. You snuggle into him, grateful for the warmth he provides in the chilly night air.

Jody and Dean are going on about some haunting they had to deal with a few weeks back. It's slow going, telling the story, because the two kept interrupting each other.

"No, no, Dean, it was not four ghosts! It was six!" Jody butts in when Dean is setting the scene. He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Learn how to count, old lady. It was four." Dean counters, dragging out the last word for dramatic effect.

"Who are you calling old? I heard your back crack earlier when you stood up!" That sends Dean back into a different argument, and so it continues.

You laugh along and try to listen, but then you feel a poking up against your ass.

"You feel that?" Sam's lips ghost against the shell of your ear. It was inconspicuous enough to not draw attention. "That's what you do to me, baby."

You can't even do so much as move your head to reply. It'd be too obvious that you two were talking, leading to Jody's and Dean's arguing to turn to you. Instead, you just leaned further into his chest.

"Wish we were alone," Sam continues, "I'd fuck you up against that tree so hard the squirrels would have my name memorized."

It shouldn't have been as hot as it was. The whimper that leaves your throat is embarrassing. Thankfully, Jody had burst from her chair at the same moment, ranting on about how she "saved Dean's wimp ass.” Dean doesn't agree and follows her to standing.

"Are you wet right now?" Sam dares a kiss on your ear. He frowns at your nonresponse. "Answer me or I'll check myself." He growls.

You try to bite back your moan, unsuccessfully. A few neighboring hunters look your way and you make a show of stretching your arms, attempting to replicate the moan.

Apparently they're more gullible than they should be for trained killers because they smile and turn back to "The Jody and Dean Show" with their new host Charlie, who had pushed in between the two in an attempt to calm them from their childlike shouting over who's killed the most vamps.

You forget you had a question to answer until Sam's hand snakes under your dress. He cups your cloth-covered sex and hums out approvingly at the damp feel.

"Soaked." He whispers to you. you swallow and pray he's finished with this game of his, ignoring the excitement that bubbles into you at the new situation.

"You be a good quiet girl and I'll let you come." Sam dips his hand into your underwear. He swipes two fingers through your folds before slipping them into you. you clench your jaw to keep from whining.

Your eyelids flutter shut a few times while he pumps his fingers into you. All you can think is thank God for the blanket draped over you two, and thank God for the Winchester men's long fingers.

"That's it, baby, come on my hand." Sam keeps his eyes straight ahead, giving the illusion that he was simply watching the new argument between Charlie and Dean about which actress was hottest.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath with your release. The group around you is none the wiser to your activities as Sam carefully readjusts your underwear to a comfortable position. He kisses your forehead with a smile and takes a sip of his beer while you reorient yourself.

sam winchester taglist : @hobiespick @xoswiftieprincess

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl @missus-ackles @tinas111 @ambiguous-avery

[delilahsturniolo]

⟡ ݁₊ welcome to the end of the world! (please leave your sanity at the door.)

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 . . . four friends: nick, matt, chris, and you—find themselves stuck together at the end of the world, trying to survive a zombie apocalypse with nothing but their wits, a questionable supply of snacks, and zero emotional maturity. you’re just trying to stay alive without losing your mind—or falling for someone on the team.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . . . violence, mentions and descriptions of blood, use of weapons, cursing, kissing, suggestive scenes, slight panic attack, being stuck in a state of shock.

CHAPTER FOUR: CLOSE CALL

read other parts here!

you’re walking back from the gas station with twinkies in your bag, sweat on your neck, and your thoughts doing that annoying thing where they keep circling back to matt’s hand on your waist. the way he looked at you when you stumbled. how close his face was. how he didn’t let go until you absolutely had to move.

you’ve barely said two words since. not because you don’t want to. because your brain is in a full emotional reboot.

nick’s a few feet ahead, giving a passionate monologue about tactical snack rations. chris is trailing behind, talking to lieutenant whiskers like he’s a real person—which, at this point, he might as well be. matt is walking right beside you again, close enough that your arms brush every so often, and every single time it happens your heart taps out a little morse code of please stop or don’t ever stop, pick one.

you’re rounding a corner near an abandoned laundromat when everything goes to hell. the smell hits you first—wet, rotting meat and sour breath—and then a flash of movement from the side. you don’t even have time to shout. one of them was hiding under a pile of clothes. a fast one. it lunges.

and then it’s on you.

you hit the ground hard. the impact knocks the air right out of your lungs. your back slams against the pavement, sharp pain ricocheting through your ribs. the zombie snarls, jaw wide, and you can feel the heat of its breath as it snaps at your face. its hands grip your arms like a vice.

you scream.

it’s not a controlled, cool scream. it’s raw, panicked—ripped straight from your lungs. your knife’s in your hand, but your arm is pinned, and your head is swimming, and you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe—

then matt’s there.

then you hear the sound of metal meeting bone.

the zombie jerks once, then twice. its weight slumps on top of you, and blood—thick, dark, and warm—spills across your chest and neck. you’re frozen. you can’t move. you can’t even scream anymore.

matt shoves the corpse off you and drops to his knees beside you, eyes wide with panic. “hey—hey,” he says, breathless, hands hovering but not touching. “look at me. are you okay? did it bite you?”

you blink up at him, but the world feels warped and underwater. your chest is heaving but no air’s going in. your fingers won’t unclench from the ground. you can’t speak. you just shake your head, or maybe you don’t. you’re not even sure.

“shit,” he mutters. he grabs your face gently, tilting it toward him. “breathe f’me. come on. in through your nose. just like that. i’ve got you. you’re okay.” your breath hitches, then shudders out of you, you let out soft whimpers.

“you’re okay,” he says again, softer this time. his voice cracks just a little. “i’ve got you.” you finally suck in a lungful of air and then another. your body trembles so hard your teeth clack.

he doesn’t let go of your face.

you’re suddenly aware of everything—his hands on your cheeks, the blood sticking your shirt to your skin, the way his chest is rising and falling like he just ran a marathon, and how terrified he looks. “you’re okay,” he says again, almost like he’s trying to convince himself now. “just keep breathing..”

“i… i didn’t see it,” you whisper, voice shaky and hoarse.

“i know,” he says. “it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

your head’s spinning. your arms feel like rubber. you’re covered in blood, and some of it isn’t yours. “we need to get you cleaned up,” he says after a beat, like he just realized how much you’re shaking. “come on.”

he helps you sit up slowly, then pulls you into him without thinking. your forehead presses against his shoulder and you don’t protest. you can’t. his arms are strong and warm and shaking just a little, too. when he finally pulls back, you’re still dazed. he takes your hand and leads you to a nearby alcove with some shade. you sit on a broken crate, and he crouches in front of you, pulling a rag from his bag and wetting it with his canteen.

“i’ve got you,” he says again, quieter this time. “just… hold still.” he starts wiping the blood from your neck, slow and careful. too careful.

you’re hyperaware of every motion. his fingers brush your skin. the cloth drags across your collarbone. he moves to clean your jaw, and his thumb lingers just beneath it. he’s close. really close. and his eyes keep flicking to your lips.

“you scared the shit out of me,” he says quietly, voice low and raw. “i thought i was gonna lose you.”

your heart stops.

“you didn’t,” you whisper, your voice shaking but real. he doesn’t respond right away. just watches you. the cloth falls from his hand, forgotten.

then, very slowly, he leans in.

your breath catches again—but for a very different reason this time. his lips brush yours, soft and uncertain. it’s not hungry or rushed—it’s tentative, like he’s asking, not taking.

you kiss him back. your hands slide into his hair. his grip tightens on your waist. the world disappears in the heat between you, the closeness, the adrenaline still crashing through your system like lightning. you let out a soft moan into his mouth, the sound making matt melt as he kissed you harder, more messily. when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard again—but not from fear this time.

“fuck..you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that,” he says, forehead resting against yours. you laugh, shakily. “then why didn’t you?” he closes his eyes and leans in again, pressing a kiss to your cheek this time. “just been waiting for the right moment.”

even if the world’s falling apart.

even if you’re a bloody, shaky mess.

even if your heart’s doing cartwheels and your brain is screaming what the hell just happened.

you trust him, he just saved your life after all.

and, that’s all you need.

© delilahsturniolo

[downbad4sylus]

“What the Birthday Boy Says, Goes.”

synopsis: It’s Sylus’s birthday!

content: sylus x afab!reader; use of Y/N; established relationship; god awful amount of fluff; twins cameo; nsfw bonus so read at your discretion; mostly proofread

word count: ~1.9k

a/n: happy early birthday to our favorite crow <3 (cries in NA server) here’s a cute little something to celebrate :)

Sylus knew something was up the second Luke and Kieran waltzed into his bedroom insisting he come with them to handle a problem.

“Can’t you two do it yourselves?” he asked, barely lifting his head from where he lay beside you, holding you in his arms.

“Sorry, Boss,” Kieran said, shaking his head.

“We really need you on this one,” finished Luke.

Sylus sighed. “Fine.”

Though he was loath to do so, Sylus slipped out of bed and went to the closet, emerging moments later dressed impeccably as usual. Before leaving with the twins, Sylus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, promising to be back soon.

“This better be worth my time,” he warned as the three exited the bedroom.

As soon as the door snicked shut, you threw off the covers and sprung out of bed, bolting to the closet to change into the cute outfit you’d prepared.

Today was Sylus’s birthday, the first you’d be spending together, and you wanted to make it special.

Luke and Kieran were tasked with getting him out of the base so you could decorate the living room. You had the aforethought to put together the decorations beforehand with them, knowing they wouldn’t be able to keep Sylus distracted for long.

You ran to the living room, digging the decorations out from the inconspicuous corner you’d hid them in, and with help from Mephisto, began transforming the room into a birthday celebration.

As you flitted about, your phone vibrated with updates from the twins chronicling the rapid decline of Sylus’s patience and the steady increase of his irritation. Your decorating window was dwindling with every passing second.

You wanted to keep it simple, elegant to match your boyfriend’s preferred aesthetic. A golden banner spelling out Happy Birthday. Red, black, and gold balloons to scatter across the floor and furniture. Red bouquets of flowers to be placed atop the tables.

But of course, you had to add your own personal touches, like a crow plushie, a tiny crown for Mephisto, some window markers to draw cute designs.

Surveying your work, you couldn’t help but feel proud of what you’d accomplished. It was perfect. Perfect for Sylus, but also perfect for this little found family you’d created with him, the twins, and a mechanical crow.

A warning text from Kieran sent you flying back into motion, beelining it for the kitchen to get the birthday cake you’d asked the chef to help you make. He was more than happy to offer his expertise, seeming almost excited to be making something so special for his boss.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Just as you placed the cake atop the coffee table, Sylus walked in ahead of the twins.

“SURPRISE!” the three of you shouted.

“Happy birthday, boss!” the twins exclaimed in unison.

But Sylus’s eyes were locked on you.

No one in the N109 Zone knew the leader of Onychinus’s birthday. Except…that wasn’t so true anymore. A few select people knew now, one of which—the only one he’d ever told—happened to be the keeper of his very heart.

He strode forward, steps purposeful as he crossed the space between the two of you. His hand slid from your waist to your lower back once he reached you, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body radiated through your own as you beamed up at him.

“Did you plan this for me, kitten?” he murmured. There was no mistaking the happiness in his eyes as he peered down at you, his gaze full of love and adoration. Of gratitude.

“Of course I did, Sy,” you said, placing your palms against his broad chest. His heartbeat thrummed beneath your fingers. “I wanted to celebrate this special day.”

“Yeah, us too boss!” Luke exclaimed from where he and Kieran had sidled up beside you both. “Miss Hunter, can we start with gifts?”

Your smile widened. “I don’t know, what do you think, Sy? Gifts or cake first?”

Sylus’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Did you make the cake, sweetie?”

The softest blush tinged your cheeks. “The chef helped, but yes.”

“Then, I want to eat the cake first,” Sylus declared.

“Aw, Boss, come on,” Luke groaned.

You laughed. “Sorry guys, what the birthday boy says, goes.”

“You heard her,” Sylus teased. “Go get plates and silverware from the kitchen.”

“Come on Luke,” said Kieran, steering his brother by the shoulders, “the faster we eat, the faster boss-man opens our presents.”

You shifted your attention back to Sylus, whose own had never strayed from you. “Did you know?”

His lips quirked. “Of course I knew.”

You pouted. “Okay but are the decorations at least a surprise?”

Sylus glanced around the room. “Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s very…cute.”

“Just cute?!” You tried to pry yourself from his arms, intent on pointing out every elegant details of your hard work, but his hold was steadfast.

Sylus chuckled. “I love them.” He snuck a kiss against your lips. “Thank you.”

Your expression softened. “Happy birthday, Sy.”

—

The twins scarfed down the cake, practically vibrating in their seats as they waited for you and Sylus to finish your pieces.

Sylus, of course, ate at the most languid pace you’d ever seen, purposely drawing out the time for which the twins had to wait.

When he finally finished, the twins bolted up from the couch and retrieved their respective gifts. Before handing them over though, they explained the competition born out of searching for the perfect birthday gift: whoever found the rarest weapon, wins. Clearly they were more excited to see each other’s gifts than Sylus was to open them but he was kind enough to humor them, making a big show of opening them at the same time with his Evol.

Only to reveal the exact same gun.

“Wha—?”

“The seller told me this was the only gun of its kind,” Kieran murmured in disbelief.

“The seller told me this was the only gun of its kind,” Luke insisted.

You bit your lip to stifle your laughter.

“Sounds like you both got scammed,” said Sylus, doing nothing to hide his own amusement. One of the guns floated into his waiting hand on a cloud of black-red mist. He scrutinized it briefly before saying, “It’s not bad quality though.” He held our the gun to you. “And having two means we can match, sweetie.”

The excitement returned to the twins’ postures and you knew they were beaming behind their masks. It was the most praise they’d get from Sylus, but praise nonetheless.

Kieran wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “Well, glad you like your gifts boss-man, we’ve got some super important business to go take care of.”

“We do?” Luke questioned.

Kieran elbowed him.

“I mean—uh, yeah we do!” He allowed Kieran to lead him from the room. “Thanks for the cake Miss Hunter!”

“Thanks Miss Hunter!” Kieran called as they exited altogether.

“They really aren’t subtle,” you commented, staring at the empty doorway.

“Subtly has never been their style,” said Sylus. He swiftly pulled you onto his lap, his finger tracing lightly up and down your neck. “Did my precious treasure get me something for my birthday?”

You giggled, cheeks tinging pink. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he echoed with a lift of a brow.

“You have to let me up so I can grab it.”

Sylus did, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and you hurried toward the drawer where you’d stashed his gift. You settled back into his lap before offering the rather large gift box.

His brow raised, curiosity dancing in his red eyes. “What could this be?”

You grinned. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

Sylus set the box on your lap and carefully unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal an obvious photo album. A single picture in the window on the cover greeted him. It was of the two of you facing each other with your hand on his cheek, his own around your wrist, the matching rings he’d gifted you on full display.

You nudged his shoulder. “Keep going.”

His gaze flicked to you briefly before returning to the album where he opened to the first page.

You stayed up countless nights putting together this album, wanting to give the man who had everything something meaningful for his birthday. You printed out couple photos, photos you’d sneakily taken of him, photos he’d sneakily taken then shared with you, photos of the twins, of Mephisto, anything to encapsulate the life you’d made together. Stickers, cheesy captions, and silly drawings littered the spaces between pictures, showing how much time and effort you’d spent making this for him.

Sylus was overcome with emotion as he flipped through the pages, reliving his happiest memories with you. It was by far the best gift he had ever received.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Do you like it?”

His gaze met yours, filled with nothing but pure devotion and gratitude. “I love it.”

You cupped his cheek and he nuzzled into your palm. “Happy birthday, Sy.”

His hand slid up your spine to the back of your neck where he pulled you into a searing kiss. He didn’t know what to expect when celebrating this day, it had meant nothing to him until you came along. But sitting here with an album full of memories and his lips on yours, Sylus finally understood the importance of celebrating one’s birthday, and he was looking forward to spending both his and yours for years to come.

NSFW Bonus—MDNI:

With your legs wrapped around his waist and his fingers laced through yours, Sylus was exactly where he wanted to be, buried inside your cunt.

His thrusts were slow and deep, your walls clenching so deliciously around his cock. He was taking his time, savoring every intimate moment.

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetie,” he purred in your ear, lips quirking at your responding whine. “Taking me so well.”

“Sylus,” you breathed, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Faster, please.”

Sylus hummed as though contemplating your request. “But it’s my birthday, kitten, and I want to go nice.” Thrust. “And.” Thrust. “Slow.”

You threw your head back onto the pillows, your body arching with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

He captured your lips with his, devouring your moans as he released one of your hands, his own traveling down until his fingers slowly circled your clit.

You cried out, burying your hand in his hair, release tingling along your spine.

“Such a good girl,” Sylus whispered. “Are you going to come for me?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes, Sy, please.”

He placed open mouthed kisses up and down your neck, his thrusts finally increasing in speed as he too neared his release. Your nails scratched the back of his head as your cries grew louder, more desperate.

Your walls clamped around his cock as your climax slammed into you, white-hot pleasure searing your veins. Sylus’s hips stuttered, his pace faltering as he fell off that cliff edge with you.

After a moment of catching your breaths, Sylus rolled you over so you were on top of him.

You pushed into a sitting position, hands flat against his abdomen.

He smiled dangerously up at you. “You didn’t think we were done did you? It’s my birthday sweetie, and I want to go all night long.”

[sosakali]

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mutualfriend!jisung x f!reader

SCENE : jisung has always had a crush on you ever since his friend introduced you to him , obviously you were oblivious until a drunk truth or dare game goes left .

TW: smut

WC: 5.7k

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the night air is thick with leftover bass and the scent of sweat and perfume . your group stumbles out of the club, laughter echoing under the orange streetlights . someone yells for fries, another argues that they should walk home to "burn off the alcohol." you just want to take your heels off and collapse somewhere soft. you’re walking ahead, jacket wrapped tight around your shoulders, phone clutched in one hand, when you hear footsteps catch up beside you . it’s jisung.

he’s got that nervous energy again , eyes flicking between the ground and your face , hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets like he’s afraid they might betray him . there’s a slight flush on his cheeks, though it could be the cold or the vodka from earlier. "you danced a lot tonight," he says, voice a little too soft, like he’s unsure if he should’ve spoken. you nod, smiling. "yeah, it was fun. haven’t had a night like that in a while." jisung chuckles, barely audible. "you looked like you were having fun." he adds something under his breath, but you miss it .

"hm?"

"nothing," he says quickly . his hand brushes against yours and he jerks it back like he touched a flame . you barely notice .

you’re talking about the DJ now, about how weird the remixes were, and jisung is walking beside you like always. that’s the thing , you don’t even register how he’s always beside you . how, at the club, every time you turned around, he was never far . how he brought you water before you could ask , how he told that one guy who got too close to back off .

"i think I left my charger at your place," he mumbles .

"you have like three chargers at my place," you say, laughing .

he shrugs, bashful . "guess I keep leaving stuff on purpose."

you grin. "then you're definitely doing it for attention."

he looks at you , eyes wide for a second , then he quickly looks away, smiling to himself . "yeah. something like that."

the group is behind you now , their voices fading as they joke about someone almost tripping over the curb . the night feels quieter, more intimate . you notice how jisung keeps opening his mouth like he’s about to say something , then stops . like he's fighting with himself . you slow down near your street, and Jisung matches your pace.

"hey," he says , suddenly sounding a bit more serious . "do you… remember that time we were out and some random guy asked if we were together?"

You laugh. "oh yeah! that was hilarious. you turned so red."

he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, well… i mean. i didn’t think it was that crazy of a question." you blink, confused. "what do you mean?" he glances at you. "nothing. just… never mind." you smile at him again , clueless , brushing it off like always . and jisung, poor boy, just nods and kicks a pebble into the street.

he wishes you’d catch it, just once . the way he lingers when you speak . the way he always makes sure he’s the one walking you home. the way he’s memorized your laugh, your favorite drink, the way your nose scrunches when you're drunk and happy .

two blocks from the bar , the night feels different . softer . the chaos has dulled into something quieter , like everyone's riding that mellow wave after the high . streetlights flicker above you , casting long shadows on the pavement . the group’s a little scattered now , some ahead , some behind , conversations happening in pairs and bursts of laughter.

you’re walking in the middle , pace slow and easy . tour heels aren’t killing you yet , but they’re threatening to . jaemin’s up front with a few others , spinning around every few seconds like he’s hosting a reality show. “yo!” he shouts back, grinning . “let’s go to your place! truth or dare night . classic . i'm feeling chaotic.”

You roll your eyes. “didn’t y’all just say you wanted food?”

“we can walk and decide! i want to embarrass Jisung again like i did last time,” haemin cackles . you glance at jisung , who’s walking quietly beside you again , hands shoved into his pockets , his hoodie bouncing with each step . He chuckles, barely .

“can’t wait,” he mutters, eyes low .

you smirk. “you alright?”

He nods. “yeah. just… thinking.”

about two steps go by in silence before he adds , “you ever notice how different everything feels right after the club?” you raise an eyebrow . “Like how?” "like…” he searches for the words, his eyes still on the pavement . "like everything’s quieter, but louder at the same time . You hear stuff better . feel stuff more.”

you look at him for a second . his jaw’s tense, lips slightly parted like he’s debating what to say next .

“You get like that too?” he asks.

You shrug. “sometimes . depends who I’m walking with.”

that gets him . his mouth twitches like he’s about to smile, but he doesn’t . he just nods .

“you looked good tonight,” he says suddenly .

you turn your head, surprised . “Huh?”

jisung keeps his eyes forward. “at the club. you looked really good.”

it’s not the first compliment you’ve ever gotten from him , but it’s different . there’s something in the way he says it , soft but weighty, like it almost slipped out . like it mattered to him too much . you laugh lightly, not knowing what else to do with that tension blooming in your chest . “thanks.”

“i mean it,” he says quickly.

you glance at him again . his face is turned just enough for you to catch the faint pink on his cheeks . he’s biting the inside of his lip now , and for some reason it makes your heart stutter a little. before you can respond, jaemin yells again from the front, “yo! y/n! are we going to your spot or not?”

You blink, like you’d just been pulled out of something.

“yeah!” you call back . “we’re almost there!”

and then the group starts turning the corner up ahead . jisung nudges your arm gently as you walk beside him again, his voice just low enough for only you to hear .

“i keep hoping you’ll notice.”

you glance at him, but he’s already looking away, eyes fixed on the sidewalk like it’s safer there . you don’t say anything. not yet. but suddenly, the sound of your heels on the pavement, the late-night air, and the hoodie wrapped around you all feel like pieces of something you hadn’t been paying attention to until now .

and you keep walking , side by side , two blocks further from the bar… but maybe one step closer to something else.

by the time you all reach your apartment, your feet are screaming, someone’s complaining about how hungry they are , and jaemin’s still on a mission like it’s his birthday. you unlock the door and everyone pours in like it’s tradition . shoes fly off, music’s cued on low, and within minutes someone’s already digging through your kitchen for snacks .

the living room shifts into chill mode , blankets thrown around, pillows dragged to the floor , lights dimmed low. red cups start getting filled with whatever’s left in the fridge: wine, vodka, juice, whatever mix works. It's a mess , but a fun mess. giselle plops down beside you on the floor , cross-legged , her long nails wrapped around her cup . she pulls out her pineapple vape and takes a slow pull , exhaling that sweet scent like she’s in a perfume ad.

“okay,” she says , lips already curved into a smirk, “who's tryna get exposed tonight?”

jaemin claps his hands once , loud. “TRUTH. OR. DARE. let’s gooo.”

everyone groans and cheers at the same time , and suddenly you’re all forming a messy circle , knees touching, red cups in hand, half of y’all already buzzed, the rest getting there. you’re between giselle and jisung. of course. his leg brushes against yours when he shifts, and neither of you move . it’s not on purpose… but it also kind of is .

the bottle jaemin pulled from your kitchen starts spinning in the center . it lands on one of the guys first , and the game kicks off. the usual dumb stuff at first : “text your mom and ask her if aliens are real,” “do ten jumping jacks while chugging your drink,” all laughter and chaos .

Then the questions shift.

giselle spins next. the bottle lands on you.

she grins. “truth or dare, baby?”

you lift your cup to your lips. “truth.”

she leans in with that devilish look . “alright. when’s the last time you hooked up with someone?”

everyone hollers . you laugh, shaking your head .

“damn, y’all are messy already.”

"answer the question!” felix says, pointing.

you sip. “like, two months ago . nothing serious.”

someone says “ooh,” someone else fake coughs “boring,” and the bottle moves on . the laughter stays light , but you feel jisung tense beside you a little .

your turn to spin . it lands on him .

you look at him over your cup. “truth or dare?”

he meets your eyes for the first time since sitting down . his gaze lingers. “truth.” you think for a second , then smirk. “alright, Jisung… have you ever caught feelings for someone in this room?”

he freezes for just a beat . the group gets quiet .

giselle exhales a puff of pineapple that floats between you and him like fog .

he glances around the room, slow . then, finally, his eyes land on you.

“…yeah.”

the air shifts. you feel it. heavy and warm.

jaemin’s eyebrows shoot up , but he says nothing. the bottle spins again .

the next few turns barely register , someone gets dared to take a shot off someone’s stomach , another person admits they still stalk their ex . but your mind’s not on any of that . you feel jisung next to you, quiet but not distant . his thigh’s still brushing yours . he hasn't looked away since he said it .

giselle nudges you with her knee and whispers low , “girl… you felt that too , right?”

you don’t answer . you just take another sip of your drink .

because yeah , you felt it .

and you don’t think this night’s done revealing things yet .

the bottle keeps spinning . people are getting bolder now . the kind of bold that only red cups and low lights can bring out . someone just admitted to hooking up in a dressing room. another dared jaemin to post “i miss you” on his story for five minutes. the whole circle’s buzzing with chaotic giggles and wild side-eyes .

you’re sitting there , heart still tangled from jisung’s little “yeah” answer , trying to play it cool. every time you glance at him , he’s either looking away fast… or already looking at you .

then the bottle spins again.

jake’s turn.

he leans forward, eyes gleaming. “alright, I’m feeling messy.”

the bottle does its slow, dramatic spin ,click ,click ,click ,and lands right on you. “oooooooh,” the group sings, already hyped .

jake grins. “truth or dare, y/n?”

you tilt your head. “dare.”

jaemin gasps. “she’s brave now.”

jake doesn’t hesitate. “i dare you to kiss Jisung . ten seconds . full makeout.”

the entire room EXPLODES.

“jake!” yuna shouts.

“oh my goodnesss,” giselle squeals , clutching her vape like it was a pearl necklace .

you blink. you open your mouth to say something , maybe protest, maybe joke it off , but then you glance at jisung .

he’s already looking at you.

face flushed, lips slightly parted . frozen . but not backing out.

you laugh, nervous. “are y’all serious right now?” jake holds up his hands. “a dare’s a dare. you can forfeit if you want…” you glance back at jisung . and this time , something shifts in you .

“nah,” you say, setting your cup down . “he can handle it.”

that gets the whole circle screaming.

jisung swallows , nods once , slow. “yeah. I-I can.” he shifts , turning toward you . the circle goes quiet . music still plays in the background, but it’s faint now . everyone's holding their breath .

you lean in at the same time he does , and for a second, it’s awkward , like two people who’ve thought about this way too much but never had the nerve .

then your lips meet .

and everything else drops out .

his hand finds your cheek , soft at first , then bolder as he kisses you back , slow, warm, nervous but deep . like he’s been holding this in forever . his lips move against yours like he means it.

because he does.

someone whispers “damn,” and you vaguely hear someone counting.

“six… seven…”

it feels like longer . feels like it should’ve happened forever ago. when you finally pull back , breath caught in your throat , you open your eyes and his are already on you , wide, searching, kind of stunned. everyone starts shouting again, clapping, laughing, making jokes .

but you and jisung?

you’re both still staring.

neither of you say anything.

because that ten seconds just changed everything.

the game rolls on, but the pace slows . people start slouching into pillows, giggling in half-asleep slurs, heads falling onto each other’s shoulders . the red cups are nearly empty. someone’s passed out on your couch with a dorito stuck to their cheek .

giselle’s curled up in a blanket , still vaping pineapple clouds into the room like fog , her eyes fluttering closed between turns. jaemin’s in the corner scrolling through his phone , occasionally yelling “WHO STILL WANTS TO PLAY?”

you’re still in the circle. barely. the air feels thick, warmer now. that kiss with Jisung still lingers on your lips , and every time your shoulder brushes his , your chest tightens.

then felix , who’s somehow still wide awake and grinning , spins the bottle . it lands on you.

he leans back with that chaotic smile of his. “y/n. dare.”

you raise an eyebrow. “again?”

“you wanted to play bold,” he says . then he glances at heeseung across from you, who’s lying back with one hand behind his head, looking entirely too relaxed. “i dare you to give heeseung a hickey.”

the silence hits like a record scratch.

You blink. “you’re ... what?”

heeseung smirks. “you don’t have to, obviously. i’m not tryna die tonight.” you glance over at jisung. he’s not looking at you . not moving . just sitting stiff, jaw tight, staring at the half-empty bottle like it personally betrayed him .

everyone else is either laughing nervously or whispering , too tired to realize the weight of what felix just did.

you look back at heeseung. he shrugs, offering his neck like it’s a joke. And then , maybe it’s the alcohol, or the pressure, or the heat crawling up your spine , you lean forward and do it. quick, just enough. Nothing slow, nothing deep. but enough for the dare to be done.

you pull back. everyone kind of gasps, half-impressed, half-drunk.

and jisung stands up.

doesn’t say anything . just quietly rises , stepping over someone’s legs , heading toward the bathroom with his hands in his hoodie pocket. you freeze for a second. then you’re up too , following him, slipping past felix and ignoring the knowing look he gives you. you catch jisung right as he closes the bathroom door. you grab it and push it open before he can lock it .

“jisung.”

He turns around , eyes wide like he didn’t expect you to follow him. “what’re you ...?”

“why’d you walk off like that?” you ask , stepping in and closing the door behind you . the soft hum of the party fades outside. he runs a hand through his hair . his cheeks are flushed, jaw still clenched.

“i just needed a minute.”

you lean against the sink. “are you mad?”

he scoffs. “nah.”

you tilt your head. “you sure? ‘cause you didn’t even look at me after felix said that.”

he looks at you then . really looks. “yeah, ‘cause i didn’t wanna lose it in front of everyone.”

you blink.

he shakes his head. “felix knew. he knew I liked you. he’s known. everyone knows . and he still dared you to do that like it was funny.”

you stay quiet.

he steps forward , eyes darker now . tired. frustrated. honest.

“i’ve been trying so hard to play it cool,” he says , voice low, raw . “dropping hints, walking you home, giving you my hoodie, thinking maybe you’d see me.”

your breath catches.

“and then you kiss me like that,” he says, softer now, “and i swear to God, i thought maybe, maybe, it meant something to you too.”

you can feel the pounding in your chest. it's loud.

he looks away, hands gripping the sink now . "but maybe I was just fooling myself.” you step closer. “jisung…”

he finally meets your eyes again. “i like you. like, i really like you. and i’ve been holding it in because i didn’t wanna mess up our friendship, or make you uncomfortable, or come off like just another guy trying to shoot his shot after a few drinks. But tonight just ..” he pauses. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

the silence stretches thick between you.

and then you move , slowly, carefully .. until you’re right in front of him.

you reach for his hand .

and this time… you lean in first.

it’s not a dramatic kiss . it’s soft .. almost like a question. like is this okay? like can i show you i feel it too?

but jisung doesn’t hesitate.

he kisses you back with all that pent-up energy that’s been simmering since the night started . his hands come up , one to your waist, the other gently cupping the back of your head like he’s scared you’ll pull away . he tastes like whatever was in his cup, a little sweet, a little reckless. when you tug just a little on the hem of his hoodie, that’s all it takes .

his grip tightens.

then, in one smooth move, he lifts you .. hands gripping your thighs as he picks you up and sets you on the edge of the sink like it’s muscle memory . you gasp softly, more out of surprise than anything, but you don’t stop him . you wrap your legs around him , pulling him closer between your thighs, your core heating up .

“goodness,” he breathes against your lips, voice shaking just a bit. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

your hands are in his hair now , tugging gently. “you should’ve said something sooner.” “i tried,” he whispers, kissing down the line of your jaw. “you didn’t see me.”

“i see you now,” you murmur, breath catching as his lips brush your neck . he pauses, forehead pressing against yours for a second, grounding himself. “this isn’t just some drunk thing for me,” he says low, almost like he needs you to know. “i don’t just want you for tonight.”

you nod, your voice a whisper. “i know.”

he pulls back enough to look you in the eye again , his gaze soft but hungry, full of things he’s been holding back for way too long.

“you sure?”

you reach for his hoodie, fisting the fabric gently as you pull him back in .

“i’ve never been more sure.”

and with that , he kisses you again .. deeper, slower, like he’s finally letting himself feel everything he’s been bottling up. the bathroom fades away. the party outside could fall asleep or fall apart , it wouldn’t matter. right here , right now , it’s just you and him , breathless and warm under dim lights and late-night confessions .

you’re sitting on the edge of the sink, legs wrapped tightly around jisung, your lips still pressed against his, and his hands are everywhere .. on your back, your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely space between you two . his breath’s hot against your neck, making your skin tingle as you feel him shift between your legs, his body pressing into yours .

“god, you feel so good,” he mutters between kisses, his voice husky, almost desperate. his hands move to the hem of your shirt , tugging it up, and you don't stop him. you pull back just enough to let him slip it off, your pulse thundering in your chest.

as the fabric leaves your body, his lips trail down your neck, and he’s kissing you like he’s been starving for this moment for far too long . one hand slides down to your thigh, lifting it up just a bit, getting closer. his touch feels electric , like it’s setting you on fire from the inside out.

you meet his lips again, deeper this time, and the kiss is messy, frantic, like both of you can’t get enough. you can feel his heart pounding as he presses against you, and every movement of his body against yours feels like it’s syncing with your own heartbeat. he pulls away for a second , lips wet and swollen from kissing you, and he looks at you like he’s unsure of something .

“you’re sure?” he asks again, voice barely above a whisper .

you can see the vulnerability in his eyes now, the raw need, and it makes your chest tighten . he’s not just asking for tonight . he’s asking if this is what you want . if you want him . and that’s the moment you can’t take back. you nod, pulling him in by the collar of his hoodie. “i’m sure.”

and just like that, he moves faster. he’s pushing your thighs wider, his hands sliding underneath you, lifting you slightly off the counter. his lips move down to your collarbone, nipping gently, and you can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes your mouth .

you reach for his shirt, yanking it over his head, wanting to feel his skin against yours . he shudders, and that little sound drives you insane . his fingers slide to the waistband of your jeans , and for a second , he hesitates, looking up at you for approval.

you press your hips against his, feeling the heat between you two, and with that one movement, he’s on fire. his fingers unbutton your jeans swiftly , slipping them down your legs , and your breath hitches in your throat . you’re not stopping now .

his lips meet yours again, and his hands are everywhere, pulling you closer, making you feel everything he’s got . you’re both moving so fast , so hungry for each other , that the world outside that bathroom doesn’t exist anymore . it’s just you and him , tangled in each other, breathing heavy.

he shifts, standing up, pulling you with him. he guides you to your feet, hands trailing to the back of your thighs as he lifts you .. his lips finding yours again , hungry , but this time there’s more . you can feel his chest press against yours , and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs against your lips , his hands slipping to your waist , moving lower .

“then take it,” you breathe, urging him on.

and that’s all the permission he needs.

a stark contrast to the heat blooming in his chest. jisung envisioned this moment a thousand times , each iteration slightly different, but always culminating in this .. the soft curve of your neck, the way your breath hitched in a gasp against his lips. the bathroom mirror , usually a harsh judge of imperfections, reflected only the soft glow of the dim overhead light and the intense focus in your eyes .

his hands, initially hesitant, now pulling your jeans down your legs and pressing his two fingers on your wet and heated core . his fingers circling your panties , setting you over the edge while you shut your eyes close instantly . he leaned in, his lips feather-light against yours, tasting the faint sweetness of the vodka your have previously digested. the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, quietly begging for more .

jisung felt a shudder run through you that mirrored the one shaking his entire body . he tasted you, fully, savoring the moment with a breathless intensity, now he needed to taste you in other ways . the world outside the bathroom disappeared , replaced by the intimacy of this stolen moment . the silence after the kiss was a comfortable, expectant pause, the lingering taste of you still on his lips.

he looked into your eyes, finally seeing the reflection of his own longing mirrored back, a silent confirmation of everything he’d ever hoped for. then, jisung slowly scoots you off the sink and puts you on the floor , your back aganist the sink cabinet . the gesture felt both intimate and strangely reassuring, solidifying the reality of this moment, a moment years in the making, finally, deliciously, his.

the air in the bathroom feels charged, heavier with every breath you take. all that matters is the heat between you and jisung. the way he’s looking at you, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and now he’s not letting go.

he lifts your panties slightly to the side and takes in the beautiful sight of his thats he's been waiting for , his lips crash onto your core and this time, it’s different. no more games, no more teasing. this is raw. his hand comes up to reach into ur shirt, gripping and playing with your boobs with his cold hands until they were sore . other arm pulling you closer to his face. your back arched against the sink now, you respond without hesitation, you moan loudly .. not caring whos behind the door listening, only caring about how good jisung is making you feel .

jisung groans softly into your cunt, a feeling that sends a shiver down your spine . his tongue is urgent, demanding, but there’s this tenderness in the way he moves with you, like he’s scared to mess up, but it feels like to you .. he's had experiences and experiences .

your bodies are pressed so close now, you can feel the growing pressure as he eats you out as if he was starving . both your groans and moans clashing together like melodies .

the way he looks at you makes your chest tighten . jisung manages to find a part of you, a part that nobody has even discovered , he feels you twisting his hair into a ball . he knew he was almost there . he slows down his tongue action making you groan lowly , whining practically .

you start pulling his face closer, begging for more friction , your body craving more, the tension between you two unbearable . his hands find their way to your hips, drawing small circles with his thumb. every touch, every movement is more intense than the last, pushing both of you closer to the edge .

“jisung…” you whimper, he looks up at you with his low brown eyes

“i’ve wanted this,” you says softly, your voice husky. i’ve wanted you for so long.” "please make me come."

those words sent a rush of heat through his veins. before you can say anything else, he cuts your sentence off once he moves his hand from your hip to your clit .. rubbing frantically and speeding up his tounge, pulling you in tighter , as if he never wants to let go. in this moment, there’s no going back. just you and him, wrapped in the heat of everything, the intensity of his mouth on your core, and the world outside fading into nothing.

you couldnt hold it in anymore , you grab onto his hair tighter than ever .. letting out a pornographic moan as you come down from your high . jisung starts slowing down , observing your scurnched up face and mouth wide open , chuckling into your cunt . he moves his mouth to your inner thighs, giving them soft pepper kisses .

the bathroom’s quiet now , save for the distant thump of music still bleeding in from the living room and the sound of both of you heavy breathing , both of you slow, steady, as you come down from everything that just happened .

the mirror’s fogged. the cool tile beneath you is grounding, but it’s the way jisung’s fingers are lazily tracing patterns along your thigh that really makes the moment settle in.

your back still leaning lightly against the sink, your legs tangled up , his hair bunched up and messy, and both of you are sweating . neither of you had the energy or desire to fully put yourselves back together just yet.

jisung pulls your panties back up, “you good?” he asks, voice low and just a little rough from everything. you nod against him, exhaling a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “yeah… i’m good.”

there’s a pause ... a quiet, weightless moment where you both just exist together . his hand’s now running slow up and down your thigh, his thumb making lazy circles on your skin.

“i can’t believe that just happened,” you murmur with a soft laugh, your voice somewhere between disbelief and that post-everything high. he chuckles too, but there’s a softness in it. a kind of awe. “me either,” he says, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. “but… also, i’ve been dreaming about it for months, so part of me’s like .. finally.”

you glance up at him. he’s flushed, sweaty, but somehow still ridiculously beautiful . his hair’s a mess, his lips soft and swollen, but his eyes? they’re completely clear. focused. on you.

“really?” you whisper.

jisung nods, meeting your gaze. “yeah. it wasn’t just… this. ,i’ve wanted you. like, all of you. just didn’t know if you saw me the same.” your fingers move to his jaw, thumb brushing along the edge of it. “i do now.”

that little smile he gives you right then ... it’s sleepy, a little crooked, and so full of warmth it makes your heart ache a bit .

“good,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “because i don’t think i can pretend anymore.”

he shifts a little, pulling you into his lap now, both of you curled up like this bathroom is your own little world. you rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world .

you don’t say much after that.

you don’t need to.

it’s all in the way he holds you , the way your fingers stay laced together even when your eyes start to flutter shut, and the way he whispers “mine” under his breath, like he’s claiming the peace you just created together.

giselle steps out of the guest room, hoodie slung over one shoulder, eyes still half-shut, her pineapple vape dangling between two fingers. she blinks at the dark living room, bodies knocked out in random positions .. felix curled up on the floor with a pillow over his head, jaemin and jake snoring softly from opposite ends of the couch. one red cup’s tipped over near someone’s foot, and someone else’s sock is just… chilling on the lampshade.

she’s headed to the bathroom , half-asleep, half-thirsty ,when she stops. freezes .

muffled voices. soft giggles. the unmistakable sound of lips meeting.

she squints at the bathroom door, cracked open just barely .

and hears it. everything.

the kissing. the breathy talking. the soft moans. the whispering. the "i’ve wanted you for so long."

giselle’s eyes go wide as hell.

she gasps , quietly ... but slaps her hand over her mouth in pure shock . then she tiptoes backward like a cartoon character , eyes still stuck on the door like it’s possessed. she bumps into the hallway wall and mutters, "no. way. no. WAY."

she spins around, rushing back into the living room, looking at all her drunk, unconscious friends like:

“Y’ALL!! GET UP!! WAIT . NO OMG THEY’RE—” she whisper-yells.

but no one stirs.

not even a twitch.

she stands there, both hands in her hair, pacing in small circles like she just witnessed a government secret. she looks at jaemin. he’s drooling. she looks at yujin. she’s hugging a couch cushion like it’s her soulmate.

“no, no, no ... y’all gon’ make me hold this in all night?” she hisses, looking around like someone has to be awake.

nobody is.

so giselle flops face-first onto the empty recliner, lets out the biggest dramatic sigh, and mutters into the cushion:

“...i can’t believe I just heard y/n and jisung doing the nastiest in the damn bathroom and i got NOBODY to talk to about it. this is evil . this is war.”

She pauses, then grabs her vape and hits it once with a tragic look in her eyes.

"pineapple-scented trauma,” she mumbles, exhaling dramatically.

MORNING

The bedroom door creaks open.

jisung enters the living room .

hair wild. shirt halfway on. sleepy. slightly limping. clearly just woke up from the best dream of his life.

he freezes .

the whole squad?

staring.

silent.

like a wildlife documentary and he’s the prey .

and from the couch, jaemin, dead serious, just lets the first words drop like a mic:

“what the fuck.”

AUTHORS NOTE: THANK U SM FOR READING !! i swear i spent like 4 hours on this i fear .. MAYBE WE'LL GET A PART 2 MAYBE NOT IDK !! (excuse the spelling mistakes , this was written at 10 pm - 2 am)

[annie-creates]

The greatest mistake | Part 3

Pairing: Dain Aetos x Riorson reader

Genre: angst

Words: 2915

Note: Be aware there is a detailed description of self-harm. Get ready to feel some feelings in this long part. Please be aware not every detail might be completely true to the canon source material. Let me know what you think and if you want to be reminded for the last one!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

A month into the summer and everyone is still ignoring you. You’ve never seen Xaden hold a grudge this long, it would honestly almost impressed you, if his wrath wasn’t directed at you. The worst part was you were starting to see his point of view, and with the way he treated you, you started feeling like he’s right. Maybe you really weren’t worth even a glance to him. Maybe you weren’t worthy of your family’s name and role. Lucky for you you still had Violet and her friends, and your squad, but even surrounded by people you felt alone. You never knew how much you needed your family until you lost them all, only because of one stupid decision.

Things between you and Dain were strained. He tried to talk to you a few times, but you were adamant in not letting him back in. He hurt you beyond imagination and you didn’t know if you could ever forgive him. It was one thing to have the whole world hate you, but for your boyfriend, the one person who warmed their way into your guarded heart and you confided your deepest secrets and insecurities in them, to turn on you and twist a knife into your heart like the rest of them, that was a new level of pain you never wished to experience.

On one particularly hard evening, when you’re not spending the time with your squad, you pick up the switch blade with Tyrrendor emblems and your family’s crest engraved in the handle your father gave to you back when he started teaching you hunting. Would he even still want you to have it, or did you really tarnish his memory? You absentmindedly trace the relic lines on your forearm with the blade that leaves thin red line behind it, the pain taking over your psychological pain for a little bit. You breathed just a little bit clearer with the sting of the blade on your skin. Until there’s a harsh knock on your door and it swings open, showing Violet barging into your room without waiting for an invitation.

“Violet!” You shouted at her, hiding your arm and blade behind your back.

“What… are you doing?” She asks dumbfounded, her original reason for coming long forgotten as she watches you squirm, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

“None of your business. What are you doing here.” You carefully fold your arms over your chest, hiding the droplets of blood into your shirt.

“You can’t do that. Let me see.” She demands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

You give her an annoyed look but reluctantly show her your arm, the relic having almost a perfect, angry red shadow on both sides of every line. It looked almost like a page in a coloring book, intricate design of dark black and bloody red. Violet examines your forearm before slowly letting it go, looking for a first aid kit instead. You lightly trace the lines with your fingers, imagining the scars that will accompany the already existing ones over the relic. You’ve learned it’s actually easier and less painful to cut the natural skin and not the tattoo in itself, as if the mark tried to fight back and hurt you for it at the same time.

“You can’t tell anyone.” You warn Violet as she starts to carefully clean and wrap your forearm. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

 “Fine, but you have to stop doing this. I thought you were feeling better.” She sighs after a minute of contently watching you without a word.

“It’s hard.” You admit quietly.

“But you have friends, and…” You talk over her not letting her finish.

“They’re your friends. And even with people around, even the whole damn quadrant, I still feel alone.” You concede.

“Xaden should know you’re feeling like this.” She tries but shuts up at your angry look.

“Xaden doesn’t care. He hates me. I could die tomorrow and he wouldn’t even bet an eye, maybe would be even glad about it. Happy he doesn’t have to bother with me anymore.” You argue, tears stinging in your eyes.

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” Violet clearly realizes that what she was about to say wouldn’t make the situation better, but it was too late to take it back.

“Disappointed? Ashamed? Let down? Pissed off? Yeah, I know.” You turn your sight down. “No need to irritate him further.”

You knew, even when he hated you right now, there was always a way to disappoint him further, and this was definitely something that would achieve just that. Xaden never believed in self-blaming, not for other people at least. He would hardly be able to sympathize with you, he wouldn’t pity you. He’d see it as another sign of your own weakness.

“You need to find a real friend of yours. Just one. And I won’t tell.” Violet promises.

You think about her counter for a minute, clearly unsure of it. You weren’t that interested to be establishing any personal relationships now to be honest, but if it meant Violet would keep her mouth shut in front of your brother and anybody else, it was worth a try, right? You give her a look of uncertainty.

“It could be Rhiannon?” She offers.

“Nah, she’s your best friend. And she’s a little too nosy.” You shake your head.

“What about Ridoc?” Violet guesses next.

“He makes fun of everything. I could never talk to him, really. Not about anything serious.” You ponder.

“What about Sawyer then? He’s smart, funny but serious, and can listen very well.” Her eyes sparkle as if she just found the perfect partner to talk to for you.

You try to come up with something wrong about him to reject that offer too, but you come up empty handed. He was actually smart and nice to be around, you suppose. He was a year older than the rest of Violet’s group, which gave him a certain level of maturity above them, but he wasn’t a dry prick. Sawyer did sound like a safe friend option, all things considered.

“Fine, I’ll make Sawyer my friend.” You finally agree.

“Great!” Violet celebrates as she finishes safely wrapping your hand and then points at her work and warns you. “And no more of this.”

You can practically feel Violet watching you like a hawk for the next couple days. You also know Xaden has noticed her doing so too, if the pissed look he has on every time she doesn’t pay attention to him but watches you instead is anything to go by. So you make a show of sitting directly next to Sawyer at lunch or in your study sessions, you always ask him about topics you don’t fully understand and you even spar with him on the mat sometimes. All the effort just to show Violet that you’re trying and she doesn’t have to tell on you to your brother.

Relationships are good for you. Your dragon reminds you, as if he didn’t tell you almost daily.

Yeah, the ones with the people I considered closest worked out great. You sass back, feeling lucky you were good enough at shielding to not let him know about your bad habits.

You had a feeling your dragon would flip out at you for harming yourself, and he’d definitely complain to Sgaeyl, and Sgaeyl would tell on you to Xaden and your hard work of hiding everything would go out the window. Honestly trying to be friends with Sawyer felt less and less like a chore, he was really a bright guy who you felt a real interest from. You started enjoying the late afternoon picnics where he told you stories about his family and home, and you were willing to share some of your own for the first time by the setting sun.

The transformation into the new school year was full of expectations and quiet hum of curiosity. Everyone was less stressed over the summer, but that would change with the arrival of new cadets, classes and challenges. You tried to be present in the conversations, pay attention to the jokes and light teasing, but there was always the little voice in your head telling you you’re not worthy of the group you surround yourself with.

In the second week of challenges you get paired with a particularly harsh opponent, a third year known for sending most of those who counter him into the healers wing. You hold your own, countering his strikes and attacks, but as he swings at you and you doge, you don’t notice him pick up his dagger until it’s swinging at your face and you feel the sting of the blade cutting your face and eyelid as you try to move away, holding the side of your face with a guttural scream that has everyone in the gym stopping in their tracks.

 You kick him in the chest, both of you on the ground now. You don’t register much after that other than the primal drive to survive until the match is deemed tied and you’re stumbling back, holding half of your face in pain, until your back connects with a stone pillar. You’re hyperventilating, a panic attack rising in your chest as you clutch your eye, blood quickly dripping through your fingers. You hear Garrick, then Bodhi, and then even Xaden trying to coax you into slowing your breathing, but their touches only stress you more. Maybe a few months ago they’d be your saviors, but now they were nothing more than another deadly threat.

You don’t scream, but you’re lost in the survival drive, until Dain’s face is the only thing that appears in your limited line of vision, your one eye working hard to focus on his moving lips. It’s like your brain is shut off from all the other functions of your body, unable to connect one thing to another. You can’t focus on anything, not even being alive, and not a single thought flies through your mind. Lucky for you, your dragon’s voice is able to break through the fog.

Breathe. Listen. Focus. They’re trying to help you, my stubborn child. He orders you, forcing your focus on the face in front of you.

“Stop. Breathe. Slowly. In… and out.” Dain orders you matter of factly and it’s a stark contrast to the babying words the others tried to calm you with.

You try to follow his orders, your fast lungs and heart coming back to almost a normal pace as they mirror his own. He takes your free hand timidly, placing it over his own chest so you can feel it and match it with your own. His heart beats faster than it should, but it’s nowhere near your skyrocketing pulse. Your lungs slow down, allowing you to become aware of your surroundings.

“Good. Now let me see.” He says more nicely, holding the hand that clutches your face but not forcing it away. He waits until you show him yourself, slowly peeling your blood-soaked hand off. His other hand gently holds your chin to angle your face so he can see better. “It’s not so bad. I need to take you to the healers.”

And before you can register the change, he’s holding you in his arms, speed walking to the other part of the college. You don’t even utter a word, still in shock but also feeling safe in the embrace you longed for for so long. You’re set on the edge of a hospital bed, a young healers student taking care of your fucked up face. She washed the blood away and rubbed a stingy antiseptic in, neither making much to settle you. You felt your eye pulsing with every breath, it’s swollen form about twice the normal size.

“It seems your eye wasn’t affected, only your eyelid. And your eye socket might be irritated. After you let it heal you should be able to see.” She tells you, a heavy stone falling off your chest. “Hopefully the scar will heal too, but we will have to wait and see about that one.”

She adds as she puts a balm over the scaring and covers your eye and face with a big cushion bandage. You can tell she’s trying to sound positive and supportive, but it’s not really picking up your mood right now. At least you won’t go blind, you suppose that would not do much for you in the riders quadrant.

No it wouldn’t. No dragon can carry a rider who can’t see for themselves. Your dragon confirms coldly, his voice snappy at you.

Jeez, thanks for reminding me, you really are a sunshine. You roll your healthy eye at him. What an indispensable support you are.

I’m not here to support you but make you stronger. And that fight wasn’t your brightest moment. Was he really being pissed at you for almost loosing right now?

“Show me your hands please?” The healer asks you politely, cutting of your silent conversation. You show your palms forward in confusion. “I’ll need to cut this off to give you inner antibiotics.”

She points at the dressing over your left arm you forgot you were even still wearing until this very moment. You clutch your arm back, holding it with the other. You weren’t willing to let anyone else see your scars, imaginative or literal, much less someone you didn’t even know. For all you knew she’d go blabbering about it to whoever later and you weren’t fond of your secrets being dragged out by other people.

“No.” You simply shake your head at her.

“You don’t want to get any infections in, do you?” She warns you sternly. “You’ll have to stay here for a few hours with it.”

You challenge her hardened gaze for a while but lose the silent fight and defeatedly let her cut the bandage off. Dain, who kept lurking around and you were so far successful in completely ignoring, audibly gulped for his breath as he saw the obvious pink scaring around your relic. Luckily the nurse doesn’t even look twice before she goes to snatch all the supplies she needs now.

“What is that?” Dain asks quietly, as if afraid if you’ll even answer.

“What does it look like?” You mumble coldly not meeting his eye.

Lucky for you the healer comes back before he can get too pushy and guides you to lay in the bed as she puts a needle in your arm. As the antibiotics drip in, she smudges a balm over your scars. You’re weirdly appreciative of the gesture, and even more that she’s not nosy about how you got them. She has an air of understanding and calmness about her.

“She’ll need to have this applied again in two hours. It’s a double working solution.” She informs Dain and turns to leave for the last time before looking at you. “You can take the rest with you.”

Dain sits in the chair by the bed, reaching out to hold your hand but flinches when you take it back. For once you were grateful the bandage on your face covered a big part of your sight and you weren’t necessarily forced to look at him. After the weeks of him trying to reach you, you still didn’t know what to tell him, or if you even wanted to speak with him.

“Why are you even still here. Last time I checked you didn’t want anything to do with me.” You challenge him, finally looking at his worried face.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I never should have said that.” He starts apologizing.

“But you did. Saying sorry won’t fix that. It won’t fix the damage that’s already done.” Only if it was that easy to glue your broken heart back together.

“I…” His breath shakes. “I know, but I want to do everything I can, anything in my power to try and fix what I broke. I know you probably won’t believe me, but you’re my person Y/n. You’re the only one I care about, the only one I seek validation and comfort from.”

You shake your head, hiding the healthy part of your face in the pillow. You can’t look at him, you can’t think about all the things happening right now. You didn’t know what was hurting more, the deep cut on your face, the fact he left you, the fact he tried to come back with just a weak ass apology thinking it would fix things, or the fact he now knew about your deepest scars?

“That’s not what it looked like with your father.” You blame him quietly.

You didn’t realize you drifted off in his presence, but after a few hours you’re woken up by a calming cool sensation on your forearm. You open your one healthy eye to see Dain carefully applying the healing balm on your self harm scars, so focused on his task he didn’t perceive anything else. He gave you some gentle touches before, but he never touched you as tenderly as he did right now. As if you were a glass doll ready to fall apart if he grabbed you too hard. Like a delicate feather swept by the wind. Like he was afraid it’s going to carry you too far away from him and never give you back. But was there still anything to come back to?

Tags: @desprrssooo-espresssooooo @bellblake @lagrandeourse

[sentientgolfball]

I humbly ask forn copia,dew and phantom being all sweet and cuddly :3

Im gonna be real I meant to post this yesterday and completely forgot but ! Here it is now !

Have a short little drabble of Copia, Dew, and Phantom cuddling before having to leave for tour

Copia jumps away with a gasp when he feels something brush against his leg. He frantically looks around the room as his tired mind tries to boot up and make sense of the darkened world. As he twists and turns in his bed, his fist makes contact with something warm and solid. A small hiss immediately follows. 

“We come to see you and this is the thanks we get?” A familiar scratchy voice whisper shouts near his ear. 

Copia rubs his eyes before looking in the direction of the voice. A pair of yellow pinpricks greet him. To anyone else, the sight would only further the panic. But they only make Copia smile. 

“Dewdrop,” he breathes a sigh of relief, “what are you doing here? Should you not be resting? You leave in the morning.” 

“We wanted to see you Papa!” Another voice calls from his other side. Copia jumps again and whips his head around to see mismatched purple eyes and glowing lichtenberg figure scars. 

“Phantom! Coccolone! You are here too?” 

“I did say we.” Dew nudges him lightly. 

“Is ehh anyone else here?” He looks around, squinting in the darkness to search for anymore shining pricks of light. 

“Just us,” Dew assures him. 

Copia nods though he feels a slight pang of disappointment in his chest, “Well I am glad you wanted to see me but ehh is there a reason you could not wait for a more reasonable hour?” 

He jumps a little when he feels a cold body press against his side. Phantom buried their face into his chest, tail and arms circling around his waist. They take a deep breath of his scent before responding with a hushed tone, “Just wanted to spend one more night with you.” 

Copia’s face immediately softens as he runs his fingers through Phantom’s mess of black and white hair. He looks toward Dew to see if he shares the sentiment, but he does not meet his eyes. Copia smiles and lifts his other arm in invitation. Dew darts forward with no hesitation, curling his body around Copia’s and tangling their legs together. He squeezes both of them as he falls back to lay against his pillows again. 

He keeps one hand moving through Phantom’s hair, quite little chuffs vibrating through with each pass over their scalp. His other hand traces patterns on Dew’s arm, following trails of scars he knows by heart. He takes the time to memorize them all over again. So he does not forget the feel of him while he is away. 

He savors the feeling of Dew’s unnatural warmth. The cold of Phantom’s skin caused by the void at their core. The pricks of claws as they knead at his stomach. The rough texture of Dew’s charred tail. His smoky cinnamon scent. Their frozen apple scent. He savors all the little things that he will miss about his ghouls. A few months away might as well be an eternity with how much his chest aches. 

He cranes his neck to press a kiss between Phantom’s horns before turning to do the same for Dew. “My sweet ghouls,” he murmurs into the darkness. 

He laughs softly as Dew presses his forehead to the underside of his jaw. His face falls though when he hears the shaky breath he takes. “Take care of Aether for me,” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

Copia squeezes him just a little tighter. It breaks his heart knowing how much Dew will suffer before he can adjust to being without his mate once more. And this time he cannot be there to hold him when he needs it. But he has to remind himself Dew will have the rest of the pack. He will be okay even without him. 

“Si si. I will. But rest for now. You need your energy for tomorrow. Both of you.” He shifts much to the ghouls’ dismay so that he can pull his discarded blanket up to their shoulders. Once settled again, both ghoul press themselves even closer to Copia. Limbs and tails tangling together as each of them clings to these last moments together.

[aziiori]

STILL SEVENTEEN - KENMA KOZUME

Synopsis Kenma Kozume has moved on, but some memories never fade. When paths cross again, the past resurfaces, and the world that ended back then feels painfully alive once more.

Characters Kenma Kozume x Reader

Warnings Slight angst

Word count 2.9k

A/N Guess who's back after a year!!

You met Kenma in your first year at Nekoma. He was quiet, head always lowered, thumbs tapping against his handheld console while the rest of the team shouted about games and practice schedules. It wasn’t like he ignored people — he just preferred the quiet.

You didn’t think much of him at first. But one rainy afternoon, after practice was canceled, you found yourself sitting next to him under the gym awning, both of you waiting out the storm. He didn’t look up from his game, but after a few minutes, he tilted the screen toward you.

“Wanna try?” he asked softly.

That was the first real conversation you had.

From then on, it became a quiet routine. After practice, you’d sit near the windows while he played on his console. Sometimes, you’d bring snacks. Sometimes, you’d watch the rain. Words were scarce, but it wasn’t awkward. It was easy.

Kenma wasn’t like the others. He didn’t force small talk or make you feel like you had to be someone else. He liked having you around, even if he didn’t always say it. The others noticed too. Kuroo would nudge him with a grin, teasing, “Got yourself a player two, huh?”

Kenma would blush, mutter something under his breath, and turn his attention back to his console. You never teased him about it.

Your favorite memory from that time was during a school festival. Nekoma’s team had set up a booth, and while the others joked around, you and Kenma snuck away to a quiet corner behind the gym. The city lights glittered in the distance, but here, you could still see the stars.

“Do you ever think about leaving this place?” you asked him.

He looked up at the sky, his golden eyes reflecting the night. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But it’s… okay. As long as I have people I like here.”

He didn’t say your name. He didn’t have to.

That night, you felt something shift. Something gentle, unspoken. A closeness you didn’t have with anyone else.

Neither of you realized it then, but those simple, quiet moments were the kind you’d ache to return to one day.

-----

It wasn’t dramatic when it happened. No big confessions under fireworks, no shouts across a gymnasium. It was just a quiet moment between you and Kenma — the same way everything always was.

It started with him walking you home after practice one evening. The streets were dim, the city humming softly around you both. You were talking about some dumb horror movie you’d seen, and how you couldn’t sleep after. Kenma listened, hands in his pockets, glancing at you now and then.

“I could… uh… stay on call with you,” he mumbled. “When you sleep. If you want.”

You blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t like Kenma to offer things like that. But something about the way he said it — like it scared him — made your heart squeeze.

You nodded. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

From there, it was a slow shift. Calls after practice became nightly habits. Sharing snacks during breaks turned into holding hands under the table when no one was looking. The team noticed, of course. Kuroo teased both of you endlessly. Yaku pretended not to care but always smiled when he caught Kenma watching you from across the court.

Neither of you said the words “we’re dating”. You just… were.

Your dates weren’t extravagant. It was coffee shops with flickering lights, game arcades where he taught you cheat codes, and sitting by the river at dusk, sharing earphones and a playlist he made without saying it was for you.

But your favorite moments were the silent ones. Sitting in his room, curled up together while he played, your head resting on his shoulder. He’d hum softly to the game’s music, and you’d watch the way the city lights bled through the blinds, casting stripes of gold and shadow on his face.

Those were the nights you felt the safest. Like nothing could touch you.

Back then, you believed it would always be this way.

-----

At first, it was barely noticeable.

Kenma would leave your messages on read. Not because he was angry, not because he wanted to hurt you — but because he’d get lost in a game, or caught up in a new stream, or just forget. You told yourself it was fine. That this was how Kenma always was. That you’d learned to understand his silences.

But somehow, it started to feel different.

There were nights when you’d wait for his call, phone screen lighting up with every notification that wasn’t him. When you finally asked, his answer was the same every time.

“Sorry. I lost track of time.”

And maybe you shouldn’t have cared so much. Maybe you should’ve brushed it off like you used to. But you missed him. Not the version of him you saw through a screen or in passing at practice — the Kenma who used to quietly wait for you after class, who shared earphones with you by the river, who’d glance at you during games like you were the only person in the world.

One evening, it finally boiled over.

You’d both planned to meet after his practice. Just something simple — grabbing snacks from the corner store and hanging out like you used to. But he didn’t show up. No call. No message.

You waited under the awning outside the store, watching the sky darken and the city lights blur into one another. When your phone buzzed an hour later, it was a text.

Kenma: "Sorry. I forgot."

Something inside you cracked.

When you saw him the next day, you didn’t smile. You didn’t ask if he was okay. You just said, “Do I even matter to you anymore?”

Kenma blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in your voice. He tugged his hoodie sleeves over his hands like he always did when he was nervous.

“Of course you do,” he muttered.

“Then why does it feel like you don’t?”

It wasn’t a fight filled with shouting. It never was. That wasn’t how either of you worked. It was quiet, restrained, the kind of argument that made the room feel heavy with the things neither of you said out loud.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” he said finally. “I’m… I’m trying.”

“Trying what?” you snapped, your throat tight. “Trying to pretend like this isn’t falling apart? Like we’re not different now?”

His face shifted, and for the first time, you saw something break behind those tired eyes. “You think I don’t notice it too?”

And there it was. The truth neither of you wanted to admit.

After that day, it became a pattern.

You’d start fights over things that didn’t matter. Which movie to watch. Which snack to buy. How long he spent online. Every little thing was a trigger because deep down, you were both terrified of addressing what was actually wrong.

Kenma would withdraw. Avoid eye contact. Retreat into his games and streams because it was easier than saying something he knew would hurt you. And you… you started keeping track of every time he didn’t text back, every plan he canceled, every glance he avoided.

You stopped going to his games. Stopped waiting after practice. Stopped walking home together.

Your friends noticed too. Kuroo stopped teasing. Yaku stopped asking questions. Even Lev, oblivious as he was, picked up on the shift.

And the worst part? You missed him. Even when you were sitting right next to him. Even when your fingers brushed in passing and he barely looked up.

Because you both knew the person you missed wasn’t sitting there anymore.

And neither of you were brave enough to say it.

-----

You didn’t remember the exact moment it started to unravel completely — just the little ways everything broke down, thread by thread.

The quiet nights you used to share over the phone turned into nights spent staring at your screen, watching his status light up “online” while you waited for a message that never came.

The dates you used to look forward to felt like obligations. Forced small talk over coffee, awkward silences where once there were gentle, comfortable ones. And you started asking yourself when you stopped feeling like home to each other.

Then came the night everything finally collapsed.

It was raining again — fitting, you thought, because it always seemed to be raining when it came to Kenma. The city lights shimmered in puddles on the streets, and you sat alone at a coffee shop, the one you both used to escape to when everything felt too loud.

You’d texted him to meet you there. One last time. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, just that you couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t breaking you.

He arrived twenty minutes late, hoodie pulled up, hair damp from the rain. He looked exhausted — or maybe it was just how he always looked these days. You couldn’t tell anymore.

He slid into the seat across from you, avoiding your gaze.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

You stared at him for a long moment, and you realized you barely recognized him. Not because he looked different — but because you couldn’t find the boy who used to wait for you after class, the one who made playlists and played games until you fell asleep on call.

You took a deep breath. “Kenma… do you even want to keep doing this?”

He blinked at you, a flicker of something crossing his face. Pain, maybe. Guilt. You weren’t sure.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” he whispered.

That broke something in you. Because you’d been waiting for him to fight for you. To argue. To get mad. To say ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ But instead, he gave you quiet defeat.

Your throat tightened. “So you’re giving up?”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You looked down at your cup, the cold coffee untouched between you. “I wanted you to care.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

“I do,” he said, barely audible. “I just… don’t know how anymore.”

And maybe that was worse.

Neither of you said it — "we're done." You just both knew. The conversation dwindled, words running out like sand in an hourglass, and when you both stood to leave, something felt final about it.

You hugged him.

And it was strange because you never did that much. The words in your head echoed “We don’t do that, we never used to do that”. But now you clung to him like it was the last time, and maybe it was. He hugged you back, awkward and stiff at first, but then his fingers clutched the back of your jacket like he didn’t want to let go.

You didn’t say goodbye. Neither of you were brave enough.

After that night, everything changed.

The messages stopped. The calls. The games. The quiet traditions you’d built over years vanished like they’d never existed.

Kenma dove deeper into his streams and tournaments. His name started trending on social media. His followers grew. People loved him. And you watched from afar, feeling like a ghost in his story.

You told yourself you were moving on too.

You laughed with new people. You went to new places. You filled your days with noise because the quiet reminded you too much of him.

But late at night, when the city lights bled through your window and you caught a glimpse of the moon, it was always him.

Sometimes you’d wake up from a dream where you were both seventeen again. Where you still lived down the street from each other. Where you hadn’t said all the wrong things, hadn’t let the best thing you ever had slip through your hands.

In those dreams, you’d say everything you meant to. You’d tell him you loved him. That you missed him. That every day, you hadn’t found what you needed — not in anyone else, not in anything else.

But then you’d wake up.

And he’d still be gone.

The truth was — no one came close to Kenma Kozume. And you didn’t think anyone ever would.

The world kept turning. He moved forward. And you stayed stuck in the moment it all fell apart

Because to him, it was a small thing that happened.

And to you — it was the end of your world.

-----

It had been years since you last saw him — three, maybe four. You lost count. Time blurred between your hands, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand, and yet the memory of him never fully faded. It stayed with you — in the quiet of your room, in the city lights flickering outside, in the way the moon seemed to watch over everything, just like it had all those years ago.

You’d moved on, or at least, you told yourself you had.

You laughed with new friends. You filled your schedule with work, with school, with anything to avoid the stillness that hit you on late nights when the world outside was quiet. When you weren’t distracted, you’d think about him, but you’d never let it take over. You couldn’t.

But then, one evening, there he was. You were sitting in your favorite coffee shop when he walked in — almost the same way he used to, hoodie up, eyes down, looking like nothing had changed. You froze, heart hammering in your chest. The air between you both felt thick, the kind of tension that only time could create — years of silence and regret, wrapped up in a single moment.

He didn’t see you at first. He was too busy ordering his coffee, too absorbed in whatever game or thought consumed him.

But when he turned, his gaze locked with yours. For the first time in a long time, you saw something flicker behind his eyes — not excitement, not joy, but recognition. A quiet sorrow that mirrored your own.

He walked toward you, slow, deliberate. And when he stood in front of you, you felt the weight of everything unsaid in the space between your breaths.

“You,” he said, his voice a whisper. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the knot in your throat. “Yeah… I guess it’s been a while.”

He nodded, awkwardly adjusting his bag. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. He was still Kenma. But then the silence stretched, pulling at the edges of your memory — the past, the fights, the breakup.

And suddenly, all those old feelings came rushing back. You felt the ache of it, the emptiness you tried so hard to bury. The grief of a love you never truly got to say goodbye to.

“You look… different,” you said, your voice cracking.

“I guess so,” he replied, almost too quietly, glancing down at his shoes. “I’ve been busy.”

There was something in his voice that broke you. It wasn’t bitterness. It wasn’t anger. It was resignation. The kind of quiet surrender that came after years of trying to outrun something you couldn’t change.

You wanted to ask him about his life — about everything. To hear about the dreams he chased, the people he met. To ask if he ever thought of you. But you couldn’t. Because the years had passed, and those questions would only hurt more.

And then it hit you. He had moved on. He was standing in front of you, but he wasn’t the same person. The Kenma you once knew, the one who sat by your side and shared playlists under the stars, was gone. And somehow, in those years apart, you had become stuck. Trapped in a memory that no one else could fill.

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” you said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He looked at you for a long time, like he was searching for something in your face — a sign that you were okay, that you’d let go.

“I’ve missed you,” he finally said, the words like a heavy weight dropping between you.

You blinked, and for a split second, everything felt like it used to. Like maybe, just maybe, there was still something there.

But then he looked away. And it hit you. He wasn’t waiting for you anymore. He wasn’t holding onto the past. He was gone. He had moved on, found what he needed — someone else, a future, a life that didn’t include you. And you…

You were still holding onto something that had long since slipped through your fingers.

“I… should go,” he said, backing away slightly. “I didn’t mean to drag this out.”

You wanted to reach for him, to say something — anything. But the words stuck in your throat. You knew if you spoke now, it would break you completely.

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice barely a breath. “Yeah, I get it.”

He hesitated for a moment longer, like he was about to say something more, but then he turned, walking out of the coffee shop without another glance back.

You sat there, numb, the emptiness wrapping itself around your chest like a vise. The world outside the window was still turning, the city lights still flickering, and the moon hung there, distant and cold.

You didn’t move for a long time.

The truth crashed over you like a wave.

The person you loved had moved on.

And you? You were still standing in the past, holding onto a memory that had already faded in his mind.

You were stuck.

And it was as if the world had ended when it happened. When he walked away.

I worked hard on this and I do not allow any form of translation, copying, or plagiarism. Cooperation is appreciated.

©aziiori 04/18/2025

[theshiniestgemstone]

the babysitter- fem!reader x gideon gemstone

word count: 8k

Gideon had been standing at the back door of his childhood home for almost fifteen minutes straight. He had his arms folded, jaw set, gaze sharp enough to slice through the window glass. The only movement came from the slight tap of his fingers against the soda can he held, long since gone warm, the condensation having dried to a tacky ring around his palm. He took a sip of his now warm soda. He spit it back into the can when something hit the back of his neck with a loud thwap!

“Ow!” He cried, turning to find his father strolling closer.

Jesse sauntered closer, all smug grin and dad-bod menace. “Quit starin’, son. You look like a damn pervert.”

Gideon’s cheeked burned in an instant. “I wasn’t-“

“Boy, you were standing there so long I thought the security cameras froze. What are you even staring at anyway?” Jesse looked through the window, spotting the babysitter at the opposite end of the pool, crouched down to give Abraham a high five. “Oh.”

She wore a modest black swimsuit with thick straps and a matching skirt that swished gently every time she shifted positions. It wasn’t flashy. Practical, even. No nonsense. But the sun glinted off the water and lit up her skin in a way that made Gideon’s mouth go dry anyway. The sunlight danced off the water and set her skin aglow. It wasn’t about the cut of the suit. It was her.

She had this easy way of existing, like the heat didn’t touch her, like the chaos didn’t rattle her. Hair pulled back in a low bun, sunglasses pushed up on her head, a whistle tucked between her fingers and a laminated sheet of drills fluttering beside her towel like she ran a day camp for misfit angels.

“Dad, don’t st-"

Jesse laughed, doubled over laughed a loud bellowing laugh that made her look up. Gideon took a few steps back, his face burning.

They had hired the babysitter when Gideon left for Los Angeles. He’d usually been the one to tutor Abraham in his elementary school homework, keeping him focused long enough to finish his daily assignments. She wasn’t around when he’d attempted to rob the family of the Easter Collection, but by the time he returned from Haiti, she was there.

The first time they met, he was running late to pick up his brother. He liked to be the one to pick up Abraham from whatever practice he was in that season. It got him out of the house and let him spend some time with his little brother. It was an attempt to connect, make sure that Abraham doesn't feel as lonely as he did when Gideon was his age. Just as he found his keys and he was about to leave, the front door opened. He took a step back. He noticed Abraham before he noticed her.

She froze for a second, her hair falling around her face gently. They locked eyes, confusion settling over both of them. She smiled widely, shocked at the fact that he’d been there.

“You must be Gideon!” She grinned, sticking her hand out through grocery bags hung on her wrist. She introduced herself. “I’m Abraham’s babysitter. I've heard so much about you from him."

He’d stared. Said nothing. Just drank her in like a man finding color in a grayscale world.

Abraham narrowed his eyes, staring at the dumbfounded look on his oldest brother’s face. Gideon still hadn’t said anything. She walked past him, taking the bags back to the kitchen. She shouted over her shoulder. “I was out west when you were home, but I’m glad I could finally meet you.”

She rounded the wall again. "I was really curious about you." And with that, she was leading Abraham to the kitchen counter, already talking about math and his junior science camp.

It was then that he knew he was fucked.

She laughed at something Abraham said, head tilted back just enough to expose the line of her neck. Her whole body moved when she laughed. Not big and showy, just fully present. And Gideon, the idiot that he was, stood frozen in place like some Southern Gothic ghost who’d died of longing in the hallway.

He didn’t even realize he was staring again until Jesse elbowed him. “Just go say hi to her.”

Yeah, like he hadn’t tried that before. He’d tried to strike up a conversation, but it was hard when their only common factor was Abraham.

“She’s workin’,” Gideon said.

“And you’re ogling her.” Jesse reached for the soda in his hand, took a sip, and gagged. “Ugh. That’s warm as piss. Is this what you’ve been doin’ the whole time? You wasted this perfectly good can of-“

Gideon muttered something Jesse didn’t quite catch.

“You know your mama thinks y’all a would be cute together,” Jesse said, smirking. He took another sip. “Told me you had ‘love eyes’ when she stayed for youth group. Thought you were havin’ a stroke, I said—nah, boy’s just sufferin’ from a case of terminal horniness.”

“Please leave,” Gideon said flatly, cheeks red as if he were the one out there doing laps. Jesse shoved the can back into his son's hand.

"Alright, fine." He muttered, retreating.

"Thank you," Gideon muttered sarcastically.

Behind him, Jesse’s voice rang out faintly from the hallway, smug as sin. “She’s gonna end up a Gemstone, ain’t she?”

Gideon threw the soda in the garbage. “Shut up,” he practically whimpered, voice tight with secondhand embarrassment as he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway, tail tucked like a spooked dog.

Outside, she was all calm control. Her whistle hung around her neck, though she rarely used it. Abraham didn’t like loud noises, and she didn’t like repeating herself, so they’d come to a quiet understanding. She coached from the edge of the pool with a laminated page of drills in hand and a tiny waterproof notebook resting beside her towel.

“Two more laps and we’re done,” she called to Abraham, who was halfway across the pool and currently doggy paddling with the ferocity of someone being chased by a pool floatie.

“You said that two laps ago,” Abraham deadpanned.

“And yet here you are,” she said with a smile. “Thriving. Come on. Just two more. I’m not timing these.”

He let out a long, suffering sigh and turned for another lap, pushing off with a dramatic splash.

She didn’t flinch.

The truth was, she had Abraham figured out.

Not in a smug way, just in that calm, patient, observant kind of way that came from spending hours with him every week. She knew he liked his math worksheets laminated so he could use dry erase markers. She knew he had a soft spot for classical music and would only sit still for his astronomy lessons if Mozart was playing in the background. She knew he had a strict post-practice Skittles policy and hated when people brought him the purple bag. And she never talked to him like he was a baby, which was half the reason he trusted her in the first place.

Gideon flopped face first into his comforter. He was so horrendously down bad for someone who was quite literally being paid to be there. She leaves the minute Abraham’s homework is done. Sometimes she doesn’t even come inside when she drops him off. She just waits in her car until the door shuts behind him. Gideon always knows when she drives up, music blasting but she always turned it down when she gets close to the house. But he hears it anyway. Abraham clambers out of the back seat, waving goodbye to her.

She comes by some mornings when Jesse and Amber aren’t there to send him off to school. She walks in, effortlessly, when Gideon still has morning breath and is wearing the thinning pajamas he’s had since he was Abraham’s age. She’s always done up, hair and makeup flawless. She wears earrings often. Sometimes they’re simple gold hoops, other times they’re dangling fishes or soda cups. Abraham eats his cereal as she combs through his hair, makes sure his backpack is packed with everything he needs. She always waves goodbye to him.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cuts through the air, bringing him back to reality.

His mother smiled at her. “Of course. I’ll make sure Abraham gets dressed. Your skin is probably burning.”

Even Jesse chimed in. “No one uses that old pool anyway.”

Gideon could practically picture the shy smile on her face when she responded. “Okay. Thank you, guys.”

His heart melted.

He waited for a while before trudging back downstairs. Jesse was leaned against the counter. If Gideon wasn’t searching the room for her, he wouldn’t have noticed the way his parents winked at each other.

“Son, take out the garbage.” The can wasn’t even full yet, plenty of room for another few hours worth of garbage.

His mood deflated. “Dad, please. Can’t-“

“Gideon,” his mother warned, staring at him over the rim of her mug.

“Yes, ma’am.” He sighed internally as he tied together the top of the trash bag and pulled it out of the can. He grumbled to himself as he yanked the door open and looked back. “You are horrible people.”

Amber hummed. “Go get her, baby.”

He didn’t hear any water splashing or music playing. Maybe she’d already gone inside. He took a few steps around the wall of bushes, running into her. The water from her wet arms soaked through his shirt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Gideon,” she said, a light laugh. “My eyes are burning so bad I didn’t even see you.”

He smiled. Even his name on her tongue made him nervous. “M-maybe you should wear goggles.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He finally looked her over. Her skirt was missing, showing the tops of her thighs, soft and plush. His brain short circuited.

“Gideon,” she said softly. She crossed her arms, pressing her breasts together in a way that made him dizzy. He moved to hold the trash bag with both hands.

“Yeah?” He looked her in the eyes, terrified she could read his mind.

“You’re, uh, standing in front of my towel.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

He bolted back like she’d zapped him, nearly pulling a muscle in his neck trying to look anywhere but at her. The trash bag swung wildly at his side, hitting his knee with a wet thud as he scrambled to create space.

She didn’t laugh at him, which almost made it worse. She just dipped down with effortless grace, the muscles in her legs flexing slightly as she reached for the towel. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, beads of water tracing lazy paths down her arms, her collarbone, disappearing beneath the curve of her swimsuit. Gideon turned sharply, like a gentleman, or a coward, depending on how you looked at it, and faced the hedges again.

He squeezed the plastic of the trash bag so hard it crinkled.

“I wasn’t—” he started, voice cracking, and then gave up. “Sorry.”

“‘S okay.” Her voice was warm, casual. She wasn’t flustered. Why would she be? She was the picture of composure, like she hadn’t just short-circuited his entire brain with a single sentence.

He could hear her patting her skin dry, slow and methodical. Every rustle of the towel felt magnified.

“I wasn’t trying to be in the way,” he said weakly, still facing the hedge. “I was just…”

Just what, exactly? Lurking? Malfunctioning? Falling in love with her in real time?

He felt her presence beside him more than he saw it. The soft sound of her adjusting the towel over her shoulders. The subtle shift of her weight as she stepped a little closer.

“You okay?” she asked. Not teasing. Not pitying. Just... gentle.

“Yeah,” he lied.

“You sure?” A smile in her voice now, but not cruel.

He dared a glance over, just long enough to meet her eyes. And that was it. He was done for. A goner. A puddle of nerves and wet cotton and bad decisions.

“I gotta take this out,” he mumbled, lifting the trash bag an inch like it was some kind of explanation.

She nodded slowly, eyes still on him. “Okay. Well… don’t trip.”

He didn’t trip.

But he did walk straight into the pool skimmer on the way to the dumpster.

He rubbed his shin after tossing the trash bag into the dumpster, wincing as the sting settled into a dull throb. The plastic lid clattered shut behind him, loud and final, like the universe slamming the door on his remaining dignity.

“Smooth,” he muttered under his breath, crouching slightly to inspect the damage. No blood, just the kind of bruise that would scream idiot behavior in a few hours.

He rested both hands on his knees and sighed, long and miserable. The humid air clung to him, and his shirt was still damp where her skin had brushed his. He felt like he was radiating embarrassment, a walking, talking disaster.

She was probably already inside. Probably forgot the whole interaction. Or worse, probably telling Abraham about it right now, laughing at how flustered he’d gotten. Not cruelly, he hoped. Just… amused.

God, he wished he were cooler. He wished he’d said something clever. He wished he hadn’t stared at her thighs like they held the answers to the universe. He pushed off his knee and straightened up, staring at the sky like it might offer divine intervention.

All it gave him was a sunbeam straight to the eyes.

“Perfect,” he grumbled, blinking hard as he shuffled back toward the house, hoping no one was around to witness his walk of shame.

Of course, the kitchen blinds twitched. Someone had been watching.

Gideon barely made it back to his room before gravity took him hostage again. He collapsed face-first into the edge of his mattress, forehead pressed to the cool fabric as he groaned into the comforter like it might absorb his humiliation. The damp spot on his shirt hadn't dried yet, and it stuck to his skin, a clingy reminder that his pulse had been going berserk for the past twenty minutes.

He flipped onto his back, one arm slung over his face, trying to reset his brain. Maybe a nap would short-circuit the embarrassment. Maybe he'd wake up and discover it had all been a heatstroke hallucination.

Then he heard it.

The bathroom, the shared one between his room and Abraham’s, hissed softly with the unmistakable sound of water cutting off. The pipes groaned and settled, and the last drops of water tapped against the porcelain. His breath caught, chest tightening. The prickle of awareness crawled across his skin, fast and uninvited, like goosebumps under sunburn.

He heard a soft shuffle. The thud of something falling, maybe a bottle, maybe her towel. The air shifted, humid and warm, curling beneath his bedroom door like a beckoning finger.

Then came the knock. Barely a pause before the handle turned.

Gideon sat up too quickly, smacking his shin again against the underside of his desk. His hiss of pain was cut short by the door creaking open.

She stepped inside, steam curling around her like fog in a dream. Her hair was damp and darker now, the ends curling against the collar of an oversized t-shirt that hung off her frame like it belonged to someone else, and maybe it did. Her sweatpants clung loosely to her hips, cinched at the waist with a knotted drawstring, and the whole look screamed effortless in a way that made Gideon forget every language he’d ever learned.

“Sorry,” she said, voice gentle, not quite embarrassed. “I tried to use Abraham’s door, but it was locked. I assume he’s changing or something. Your mom said I could shower in there.

Her bare feet padded against his carpet, and all he could do was nod like a bobblehead with a busted spring.

“Oh,” he croaked. “Yeah. Probably. It- it's all good.”

She didn’t move to leave immediately. Her gaze scanned his room. She looked over the stacks of books, the tangle of phone chargers, the Gideon-shaped dent in the comforter. Her eyes landed back on him, and he swore he felt it.

The shift.

The heat in the silence.

He couldn’t tell if it was real, or if his brain had finally given up and let his hormones take the wheel. Either way, it knocked the breath out of him.

“I like your posters,” she said, finally filling the silence as she stepped further into the room. Her fingers worked absently at the ends of her damp hair, squeezing water into the towel slung around her neck. Droplets trickled down her collarbone and disappeared beneath the neckline of her shirt.

Gideon swallowed hard. “Thanks,” he managed, his voice rough around the edges. He was suddenly hyper-aware of every little thing. How his desk chair creaked when he shifted, how warm the room had gotten, how the scent of her shampoo, something sweet and clean, floated in with the steam.

She drifted toward the wall where a vintage Raiders of the Lost Ark poster hung slightly crooked, next to a signed stunt crew photo from a film he’d worked on for three whole days before getting a concussion and being sent home. She looked at everything like it meant something, like it told her things about him he hadn’t said out loud.

“You really liked this one, huh?” she asked, pointing at the Blade Runner print, faded at the edges but still vibrant.

He nodded. “Yeah. I dunno. It’s kind of depressing, but... pretty. In a weird way.”

She smiled softly, still drying her hair. “Fitting.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Pretty. In a weird way,” she teased, glancing over at him with a glint in her eye.

Gideon choked on air. “I- uh, thanks?”

She laughed, turning back to face him fully, arms crossed now with the towel slung over one shoulder. The shirt she wore tugged against her curves just enough to send his thoughts spiraling again. He forced his eyes up. Eye contact, eye contact, he repeated like a prayer.

“You okay?” she asked, eyebrow arched, almost concerned.

He nodded again, too quickly. “Yeah. Totally. Just, uh, didn’t expect company.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not staying.” She took a step toward the hallway, but paused in the doorway, her hand on the frame. “But I like your room.”

Then she was gone, and all that was left was the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He doesn’t see her for two days.

She only comes over during the week, and even though he knows that, Saturday and Sunday feel like an eternity. Each hour seems to stretch out longer than the last. He checks the driveway more times than he’s willing to admit, hoping maybe, maybe, she’ll pop by early. But the spot stays empty, and with it, so does his patience.

Jesse, of course, notices.

Sunday afternoon, he corners Gideon in the kitchen while digging through the pantry for pork rinds. “Son, you got that pitiful lovesick look about you again. Like a basset hound that got left at the altar.”

“I’m fine,” Gideon mutters, tugging the fridge door open just to have something to look at besides his father’s smug face.

Jesse keeps going anyway. “Y’know what worked on your mama? Confidence. I walked right up to her, told her she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen and that if she didn’t marry me, I’d probably die.” He paused. “Well, I said it a little louder than that. I had flair.”

“You also fake-cried during your proposal,” Amber added as she walked by, sipping her tea. “We all knew it.”

Jesse pointed a chip at her. “Still worked, didn’t it?”

Amber ignored him and turned her attention to Gideon. “Don’t listen to all that mess. Just ask her. No smoke and mirrors. If you like her, tell her. Buy her flowers if you’re scared to say it with your mouth.”

“She’s just… cool,” Gideon admitted, fingers tightening around the fridge handle. “I don’t wanna make it weird.”

“Baby, everything’s weird when it’s real,” Amber said gently. “That’s what makes it honest.”

Gideon didn’t respond. Not out loud anyway. But later that night, he found himself staring at the ceiling fan in his room, wondering what kind of flowers she liked.

+++

“Okay. Then what do you do with the three?”

Abraham thought hard. She sat beside him, nodding gently. “You’ve got it,” she encouraged.

“Drop and divide?”

“Drop and divide. Go ahead.”

Abraham scribbled the numbers down on his worksheet, tongue sticking slightly out the side of his mouth in concentration. She leaned in a little, watching his pencil move, her arm warm against Gideon’s where he sat on the other side of the couch.

Gideon hadn’t even known she was coming over today. He’d come downstairs to grab a snack and nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw her sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a textbook and Abraham’s math homework spread out in front of her.

Now, she’d made herself at home between them, smelling faintly of vanilla and pollen. She was wearing one of those oversized college sweatshirts and the same sweatpants from a few days ago. He was pretty sure they were technically her pajamas. He was also pretty sure he was going to combust.

“Okay,” Abraham said slowly, “so I divide the three into the twelve…”

“Twelve what?” she prompted softly.

“Twelve cookies,” he said with a small grin.

“Right,” she laughed. “Now how many does each person get?”

Abraham counted on his fingers. “Four.”

“Perfect.” She high-fived him, and Gideon’s heart clenched at the way she smiled wide and full of pride like she’d just taught him to build a rocket. She turned toward Gideon, catching him staring.

He looked away fast, suddenly very interested in the edge of the couch cushion. “He’s, uh, doing really good.”

“He is,” she said, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You were probably just like this when you were his age.”

Gideon made a noise in his throat. “I was more annoying.”

She snorted. “Hard to believe.”

He glanced over at her then, heart hammering, and for a second, he thought maybe this was the moment. Maybe he’d just ask—no smoke, no mirrors. Just like his mom said.

Gideon watched them for a while, pretending to be more interested in the math homework than he really was. His eyes flicked between Abraham’s scribbled notes and her focused expression. She was in her zone, leaning forward slightly, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. Every time she tucked a stray piece behind her ear, Gideon’s stomach twisted in a way that felt a little too much like nervousness.

The silence between them was comfortable, but it only lasted so long before his attention drifted. His gaze wandered over to the couch where her bag rested, the one she had dropped by the door when she came in. Her phone sat on top of it, the screen face-up.

Then, it happened. The phone lit up with a soft buzz, the kind that made his heartbeat skip for no reason. He tried to look away, but his eyes locked on the screen as the text notification flashed across it.

he’s picking you up at 9???

It took every ounce of Gideon’s self-control not to choke on the air around him. His chest tightened as the words sank in. He didn’t need to know who the message was from. He could already guess. She’d mentioned someone in passing once or twice, though he couldn’t quite place the name.

His stomach did a strange little twist, but he fought to keep his face neutral. He could feel his pulse in his throat as he pretended to focus on Abraham’s homework again. The math problems seemed like foreign symbols now. He barely heard Abraham mumble something about dividing fractions.

"Who’s that from?" Abraham asked suddenly, glancing at the phone.

Gideon froze, just a fraction too late in looking away. Her eyes flickered to the phone, and she reached over to swipe it quickly, as though she hadn’t meant to leave it out in the open. She gave him a brief, awkward smile.

“Uh, just a friend,” she said quickly, tucking the phone into her bag. Her fingers lingered on the strap for a second too long.

Gideon tried to act like it didn’t matter, that he wasn’t having an internal battle over the mere idea of her going out with someone else. He forced a smile, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

But his mind couldn’t stop racing. 9 p.m.? Who is picking her up? And why didn’t I know about this sooner?

Abraham, oblivious to the tension building in the room, asked her another question about long division. She smiled, her attention shifting back to him, but Gideon’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t shake the thought of her getting in someone else's car later. A flash of jealousy burned behind his ribs, and despite his best efforts to keep his expression neutral, he couldn’t quite suppress the frustration bubbling under the surface.

She didn’t notice. At least, not at first. But she’d surely seen the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. And for a moment, it felt like the air between them shifted, just a little. But she kept smiling at Abraham, and the world kept turning, even if it felt like it was spinning too fast for him to keep up.

Gideon overheard you later that night as you were leaving. The soft murmur of voices from the hallway reached him, and he couldn’t help but listen, feeling like an outsider in his own house. He leaned against the doorframe, straining to hear as Amber offered you a seat at the dinner table, her voice warm and welcoming.

But you didn’t stay.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got to get going,” you said, your voice light, yet polite. You hoisted your purse over your shoulder, giving Amber a smile before stepping toward the door.

Gideon couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment settle in his chest as he heard the door click shut. She wasn’t staying. Not here, not with him.

The night dragged on from there. Dinner was a blur. He didn’t eat much, his stomach flipping over itself in a knot that no amount of food could undo. His mind kept replaying the same thought over and over: I'm too late.

He had waited too long to make his move, too cautious in all the wrong moments. And now, someone else was picking you up at 9 p.m. He didn’t even know who, but the sting of that realization was sharp and relentless.

When the clock finally ticked over to 9 p.m., he couldn’t stand it anymore. He threw the covers off, tossing and turning in bed, his body restless. Finally, he gave in, dragging himself out of bed and trudging downstairs. He was running on autopilot, his steps heavy, his mind a chaotic mix of frustration and regret.

He reached the kitchen, hoping to find some Tums, a quick fix for the ache building inside his chest. As he opened the cabinet, reaching for the bottle, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Well, look who’s awake.”

Gideon turned, finding Jesse leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. The older man’s gaze was calculating, sharp as usual, but there was something in his eyes. Something that made Gideon feel like he was being read, dissected, and it wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

“Late-night snack?” Jesse asked, his voice casual, though the look on his face suggested he knew exactly what was going on in Gideon’s mind.

Gideon hesitated before answering, his voice a little too tight. “Just grabbing some Tums,” he muttered, uncapping the bottle.

Jesse raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, letting the silence hang in the air between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The ticking of the clock was louder than it should have been.

Finally, Jesse spoke up, his tone still casual, but with a hint of something more serious underneath. “You know, if you want something, you have to go for it. Can’t just wait around hoping it’ll come to you.”

Gideon didn’t look at him. He just popped a few Tums into his mouth, the chalky texture not doing much to soothe the ache inside. “I know.”

But Jesse didn’t seem convinced. He let out a sigh and pushed himself off the doorframe, stepping into the kitchen. “Just don’t wait too long. You’ll regret it.”

The words hung in the air long after Jesse had left, and Gideon was left standing there, his thoughts spinning. The clock ticked on.

The next day, she was behind the wheel, driving Abraham home from school. The ride was quiet for the most part, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the air. Abraham, always the chatterbox, seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, occasionally muttering something about a math problem or how his friends had been acting. She nodded along, offering the occasional response, but her mind wasn’t really on the conversation.

As she pulled into the driveway, Abraham unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"Thanks for the ride," he said, offering a grin before stepping out.

"No problem," she replied, waving him off as he jogged to the door, his backpack bouncing with each step.

"Keep working on your homework! I'll check it out tomorrow!"

She started to pull away from the house when she noticed a familiar figure standing just a few yards down the driveway. Gideon. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his stance casual but his eyes locked on you as he approached.

Her stomach did a little flip, and she wondered if she’d been caught in a moment she hadn’t planned for.

He moved toward her car as she slowed to a stop in front of him, his eyes flicking toward the passenger seat before meeting her.

"Hey," he greeted, a slight hesitation in his voice as he leaned against the car. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight... maybe go get something to eat?"

The words hit her like a ton of bricks. She froze for a moment, her fingers tight on the steering wheel. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and she hated how obvious it must have been.

He was already debating whether this was a good idea. He didn’t know if you could do the casual “just friends” thing with her anymore, not after everything. Still, she managed a soft smile, even though he could tell there was something more on her face than just friendly intent.

But then, just as quickly as the smile appeared, a grimace followed. It was hard to ignore. He hadn’t planned for this. The weight of it, the vulnerability of the whole situation, made her hesitate.

"I- I don’t think so, Gideon," she murmured, her words trailing off awkwardly. "I have some plans with friends.”

She could see it in his eyes immediately. Disappointment, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite place. He pulled back, trying to cover it with a small nod, but you could still feel the tension in the air.

“I get it,” he said, though the smile he tried to offer didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, he turned and started walking away, and your heart sank. He couldn’t tell if it was the regret of missing his chance or the growing frustration of avoiding the inevitable. But either way, he felt the weight of the moment linger long after she disappeared from view.

He cried that night. Actually cried. The kind of cry that twisted deep in his chest and wouldn’t let up, no matter how hard he tried to breathe through it. The hot water from the shower beat down on his back, but it didn’t soothe him. His knees had buckled somewhere around the five-minute mark, and now he sat hunched over on the tile floor, his head resting against the cold porcelain, arms wrapped tight around himself like that might keep the ache from spreading.

He didn’t sob loudly. He couldn’t. Not with his brothers just a few rooms over, not with the paper-thin walls of the mansion that made privacy almost impossible. Instead, it came out in sharp exhales and trembling shoulders, tears that slid quietly down his face and mixed with the water running over his cheeks. The steam clung to his eyelashes. He couldn’t tell where the water ended and the tears began.

He stayed there longer than he should’ve,, long after the hot water began to cool, long after his skin felt raw. He didn’t care. He needed to feel something, and right now, the sting of water hitting his tired muscles was the only thing grounding him.

When he finally got out, his fingers were wrinkled and his eyes were bloodshot. He dried off in silence, moving slowly, like each movement took more effort than the last. He pulled on a hoodie and joggers without thinking, not caring what he looked like.

In the kitchen, the light over the sink was still on. The house was quiet, save for the low hum of the fridge. He reached for the door, grabbing a half-full water bottle and letting the cool air hit his flushed face.

“Hey.”

He froze.

Amber stood in the doorway in her robe, arms crossed, hair piled on top of her head. Her eyes scanned him, looking at his slumped shoulders, the redness around his eyes, and the way he wouldn’t look at her.

“You okay?” she asked softly, almost like she already knew the answer.

He hesitated, then let out a breath through his nose, blinking a few times too fast.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Shampoo got in my eyes.”

Amber raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. Instead, she stepped closer and rubbed his arm gently before heading toward the stairs.

“Okay,” she said simply, with that quiet kind of love only a mother could give. “Just… be kind to yourself, alright?”

He nodded, gripping the water bottle a little tighter as he turned back toward the fridge, eyes stinging again. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this hollow.

The following afternoon, everything feels numb. Predictable. She followed the same routine without thinking—drive Abraham home from school, help him settle at the dining table with his backpack slung lazily across a chair, go through his homework until his answers stop needing your encouragement. He’s bright, quick-witted, and growing more independent by the day. Gideon wonder if he even needs your help anymore or if she’s just a part of the structure he’s gotten used to.

When he finishes, she pats his shoulder, gathers her things, and slips her shoes back on. She passed Gideon in the hallway. He doesn’t say much—just gives her a little wave, half-smile tugging at his mouth. She returns it with a soft goodbye and let herself out. The door closes behind her with a quiet finality.

Gideon lingers in the hallway for a second before he ends up in Abraham’s room, leaning against the doorframe. The younger boy is sprawled across his beanbag chair, controller in hand, eyes locked on the flashing screen of a game clearly not rated for his age group. Gunshots echo from the TV. A car speeds down a city street, sirens wailing in the distance.

“You know Mama wouldn’t want you playin' that,” Gideon mutters.

Abraham scoffs but doesn’t look away from the screen. “You played it when you were ten.”

Gideon shrugs and drops onto the floor beside the beanbag, stretching his legs out. “Yeah, well. I also thought wearing fingerless gloves made me look cool.”

“Fair point.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, the flickering colors of the game casting faint shadows over the walls. Then Abraham crashes his car straight into a streetlight. His character flies through the windshield with a crack and a grunt, followed by a string of curse words from the NPC.

Abraham doesn’t even flinch.

“You’re a dumbass, you know,” he says casually, respawning his character.

Gideon blinks, caught off guard. “S’cuse me?”

Abraham tosses him a glance, the kind that only a kid with an older sibling and a death wish could manage. “She likes you. You just waited too long and now she thinks you don’t like her back.”

Gideon scoffs, trying to ignore the flush that creeps up his neck. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’m not dumb, Gideon. She looks at you like... like you’re one of those sad songs people play in movies.”

Gideon groans and covers his face. “What does that even mean?”

Abraham shrugs. “I dunno. But it sounds right.”

He crashes into another light post. His character groans again, saying what sounds suspiciously close to a slur Gideon learned about in Haiti.

“Maybe you should focus on driving,” Gideon mutters.

“Maybe you should focus on not being a sad song.”

Gideon pressed, leaning a little closer, voice low like he was afraid someone might overhear—like the walls had ears.

“Did she ever… talk about me? To you?”

Abraham didn’t look away from the screen. His thumbs moved quickly over the controller, but his lips twitched like he’d been waiting for that question.

“Dude, I’m ten. She wasn’t giving me full monologues about her feelings.” He paused, then added, “But… she used to be on the phone with her friends and stuff. They’d talk about you in code.”

Gideon blinked. “What?”

Abraham finally looked over, one eyebrow raised. “Her friends call you Bible Boy, nitwit.”

Gideon’s face went bright red, mouth falling open. “Bible Boy?”

“Yeah,” Abraham said with a snort. “Like, ‘Bible Boy was acting weird today,’ or ‘Bible Boy held the door open for me and didn’t even look me in the eye.’ That kind of stuff.”

Gideon groaned and dragged both hands down his face.

“Oh my God.”

Abraham grinned. “Pretty sure she liked you, man. She wouldn’t call you Bible Boy if she didn’t.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“You’re the one who asked,” Abraham said, crashing his car again with no remorse. “Maybe next time, don’t wait until there’s a dude picking her up at 9 to get your act together.”

Gideon didn’t respond. He just sat there, hands resting uselessly in his lap, wondering how badly he’d fumbled something that once felt so close.

“Which, by the way,” Abraham said, not even looking up from his game, “she was getting picked up at nine in the morning for a car appointment that wasn’t until noom. Her dad was picking her up early so they wouldn’t be late but she usually sleeps in before her class.”

Gideon blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” Abraham crashed his car into a pedestrian this time, totally unfazed. “It wasn’t a date, moron.”

Gideon slumped back against the floor with a groan, staring at the ceiling. “I need to talk to you more often.”

That made Abraham pause the game. Literally pause it. He turned, controller in his lap, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah. You haven’t picked me up from school in months.” He gave Gideon a pointed look, a rare kind of honesty in his voice. “Give her a break, man.”

Gideon opened his mouth to respond, but Abraham cut him off with a sigh, unpausing the game with a dramatic press of the button. "H-how do you think I should bring it up?"

“Jesus Christ, I have to do everything in this house.”

Gideon then did something he never thought he would do. He asked his parents for help.

It was late. Their bedroom was dark except for the soft glow of the TV. Jesse was watching a movie on mute, eyes glazed over, only half-interested. Amber lay beside him, legs tucked up under a quilt, reading through her Bible with a highlighter in one hand and a ballpoint pen in the other. Jesse held her notebook steady on his stomach like it was some sacred duty.

“Hey,” Gideon said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Both of them looked over. Amber’s face lit up. Jesse raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, son?”

“I… need advice. Girl advice.”

Amber immediately sat up straighter. Jesse grinned like he’d just been handed a six-pack.

But they were absolutely no help.

Amber started in with talk about being vulnerable, open, intentional. Jesse interrupted constantly to add his own opinions. Things like “eye contact is key,” “don’t talk too much,” and “girls love mystery.” At one point, they both started talking over each other, and Gideon had to raise a hand just to get them to stop. He left more confused than when he walked in.

Back in his room, he paced for about an hour. Picked up his phone. Put it back down. Thought about texting you. Thought about what Abraham said. Thought about the way you looked at him last week when he stammered through asking if you’d like a glass of water.

Finally, without really thinking, he pulled on a hoodie, grabbed his keys, and took the golf cart over to his grandfather’s house. The night air was cool against his skin, the buzz of the crickets loud in the stillness. His headlights cut through the dark as he rolled across the lawn toward Eli’s quiet front porch.

If anyone could make sense of what the hell he was supposed to do, it was him.

Eli answered the door quicker than Gideon expected, still dressed in slacks and a pale blue sweater from earlier in the day. He looked like he hadn’t quite settled in for the night, just winding down, maybe waiting for the quiet to fully take hold.

Gideon stood there, hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie, shifting on the balls of his feet.

“Grandad,” he said, his voice low and a little uncertain. “How did you… how did you woo Grandma?”

Eli’s face softened immediately, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. It wasn’t a teasing smile either. It was warm, fond. The kind of look he only wore when talking about things that really mattered.

He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

Gideon stepped into the familiar quiet of the house, breathing in the scent of old wood, books, and something faintly spicy—maybe from dinner or one of Eli’s candles. The door clicked shut behind him.

“You bringin’ me a girl problem, or a girl solution?” Eli asked, already moving toward the kitchen with a slow, steady stride.

“Definitely a problem,” Gideon muttered, following. “I messed it up. And I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Eli filled the kettle and flipped the switch, leaning back against the counter with his arms folded as the water began to heat. “Start from the beginning.”

And Gideon did.

Gideon hadn’t even realized how much he’d been holding in until the words started pouring out. He sat hunched at Eli’s kitchen table, his fingers wrapped around the warm mug of coffee he hadn’t touched, eyes fixed on a knot in the wood grain like it held all the answers.

“She just… smiled at me,” he said quietly. “That first day. It wasn’t polite or fake, you know? It was like she was surprised. Like something about me was worth being surprised over.”

Eli sat across from him, hands folded, not saying a word. Just listening. Just being there in the way only someone who’d lived a whole lot of life could.

“And then there was this one time,” Gideon continued, a slight, almost wistful smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Pontious was on one. Got mad at me for something stupid and cussed me out in front of everyone. I—I didn’t even say anything back. Just stood there.”

He paused, remembering the moment in vivid detail.

“She didn’t look up. Kept her head down. But she muttered, real quiet and called him a ‘punk.’ And then she looked right at Abraham and said, ‘Have more respect for people.’ Like it wasn’t even about me. Just… the principle of it. I don’t know. It felt like she was protecting me, even if she didn’t mean to.”

Eli nodded, his face unreadable but open. “And what happened after that?”

Gideon exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything. I froze. I always freeze. She just kept being… kind. Just kind. Even when I was awkward or silent or too careful. I thought I was playing it safe, but now she’s gone and I’m here, talkin’ to you about it like a kid with a crush who never grew up.”

Eli leaned forward, his voice low but firm. “You are a kid with a crush. That’s not a bad thing. But she’s not a test you pass or fail. She’s a person. A good one, from what you’re tellin’ me. And good ones are worth being honest with.”

Gideon looked down into his coffee. “What if it’s too late?”

Eli didn’t hesitate. “Then at least let her hear it from you. Not from silence.”

Gideon swallowed hard, nodding. “Okay.”

And for the first time in days, he didn’t feel like crying.

Eli leaned back in his chair, the coffee now lukewarm but untouched by either of them. “Your grandma had her mind made up the moment she saw me sing at that revival. She looked at me like she already knew me, and I swear my heart about jumped outta my chest. But it still took me three weeks and five different excuses to bump into her before she finally said yes.”

Gideon cracked a smile. “What finally did it?”

“A single daisy,” Eli said. “Wrapped in notebook paper and tied with a shoelace. I handed it to her after choir practice and said, ‘I figured you’d like something simple but real.’ She cried, told me it was the nicest thing anyone had ever given her.”

Gideon sat up straighter. “A flower?”

“One flower,” Eli confirmed, holding up a finger. “You ain’t gotta drown her in roses or make some big show. Just prove you’re thinking about her. Like you're really thinking. That’s what sticks.”

They talked for another hour, sketching out ideas with the quiet comfort that only family could bring. The plan was simple: he’d wait until she brought Abraham over again—no dramatics, no speeches. Just a thoughtful gesture, offered with the honesty she always seemed to pull from him without even trying.

Amber had been furiously tapping through flower arrangements on her tablet, grumbling over shipping costs and whether sunflowers sent the wrong message. But Eli’s idea felt right. Real. A single flower, maybe her favorite kind if he could figure it out in time. Something small and earnest.

When Gideon finally climbed back into the golf cart and drove across the yard toward the main house, the wind was cooler than it had been all week. He felt clearer. Not braver, exactly, but certain.

The kind of certain that sticks.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cool air that made Gideon feel like he had to do something important. His steps felt heavy as he made his way to the florist, the small bell chiming as he entered. The woman behind the counter looked up with raised eyebrows as he scanned the bouquets.

“A daisy?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “Just one?”

He swallowed hard, his fingers brushing over the petals of the nearest arrangement. “Yeah. Just... one.”

She gave him a long, evaluating look, as if trying to gauge how serious he was. Finally, she shrugged. “Well, we don’t usually sell them individually."

But as he paid, he caved and bought the entire arrangement. Gideon watched, feeling slightly foolish, as she fumbled to wrap it up. The flowers didn’t look special, but to him, it was everything. When she handed him the small bundle, he felt a strange mixture of pride and self-doubt, like he was about to do something important and ridiculous all at once. He stared at the single bloom, wishing he could know if it would be enough.

His aunt, Judy, had been mentioning how the flowers in the house looked a little tired lately, so he figured he could use them to make himself feel less like a man who had spent money on a single flower and then had to justify it. He plucked the brightest one out of the bunch and set it in the cup holder.

The day stretched on slowly. He thought about texting her, and he almost did, but then he decided to let it be a surprise, make it something casual. When she pulled into the driveway that afternoon with Abraham in tow, his heart kicked up in his chest. He waited by the front door, the daisy clutched in his hand, fingers nervously wrapped around the stem.

She stepped out of the car and smiled at him, her eyes immediately catching the flower. He held it up to her, uttering a soft for you that she probably didn’t hear. For a split second, she seemed taken aback, and for a second, he thought maybe she wasn’t going to say anything. But then her lips curled up into a soft, genuine smile.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice warm and kind, though a little unsure.

He wanted to say something, anything, but before he could open his mouth, Abraham was already beside him, punching his arm hard enough that he stumbled back. “God, you’re fucking stupid.” Abraham huffed, clearly embarrassed by the moment but also not one to let it linger.

Without a moment’s pause, he turned to her, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Y/N. Will you go out on a date with my lame-ass brother?” he asked, shaking his head as if the whole thing was ridiculous. “He’ll probably take you somewhere lame.”

Gideon stood frozen, his stomach doing flips. He glanced at her, his heart pounding in his throat, unsure of how this was going to land.

There was a moment of awkward silence, the kind that made Gideon’s skin feel too tight. Abraham stood there, looking between the two of them, his arms crossed, clearly waiting for something to happen. Gideon’s stomach did a weird flip, as though his insides were preparing for something that might break him, or make him.

She gave him a raised brow, amusement flickering in her eyes, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice when she spoke again. "I don't know. Pontious is kinda young for me."

Gideon blinked, his heart hammering harder than it should’ve been. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a terrible one.

It took a second for him to register the words, his brain doing a mental rewind as he tried to process it. She was joking. Right? Or were you... serious? His gaze flickered between her and Abraham, who was grinning like the little troublemaker he was.

But then, it clicked. He cleared his throat, the sound rough in his chest, trying to focus, trying to get his mind to do what his body was telling it to do. “With me,” he said, his voice quiet, the words finally coming out, “I’m the lame-ass brother.”

There was no going back now. He stood there, waiting, holding the daisy between his fingers like it was some kind of fragile thing that might shatter if he didn’t handle it perfectly.

She blinked at him, her lips pressing together for a moment as she took him in. The air around them seemed to hum with the tension of the moment. Would she say yes? Would she laugh? Would she think it was weird?

And then, after what felt like an eternity, she smiled. A soft, playful smile, and Gideon felt something inside him relax, even though his nerves were still buzzing like live wires.

“Okay, fine,” she said, the words light, but the look in your eyes was something else. “Maybe I’ll go on a date with the lame-ass brother.”

Gideon’s chest tightened, but this time it was a good kind of tight. The kind that made him feel like maybe he had a chance, maybe he wasn’t as out of place as he thought.

“Yeah?” He could barely keep the disbelief out of his voice, the excitement barely contained behind his words.

She nodded, her smile widening, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

“Pick me up at 7:30. Your mom has my address.”

And with that she was gone. Gideon stood there, frozen as his mind raced with date ideas. He needed something meaningful but casual. Amber walked by, brows furrowed as she looked at Abraham, silently asking why her oldest son was staring at the door like he was trying to melt it with his mind.

Abraham tossed his backpack to the side. “I need a new babysitter,” he said, heading to his room.

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 02x19 - The Composite Beast, Chimeramon / An Old Enemy Returns

Previously on Digimon Adventure: Koushiro and Iori found the Digimon Kaiser's base, but it got up and ran away when they weren't looking. Miyako shouted "AHA" and ran facefirst into the brick wall of her own enthusiasm. However, on the other side of that brick wall was the base so it was a net victory all the same.

What sort of unimaginable horror has the Digimon Kaiser been working on all this time? Find out... right now if you read the title card. Though he did basically spell it out last episode.

The Narrator opens this episode by assuring us that the boys did make it back last night. Which is good 'cause it was kinda late when Miyako and Hikari spotted the base and there was no sign of them.

Narrator: After the Kaiser's fortress left, Daisuke's group linked back up with Hikari's group. Then, the following morning....

Miyako, Hikari, and Daisuke sleep in, with an implied division between the boys' and girls' sleeping bags; Miyako and Hikari's bags are put together while Daisuke's is separated from Hikari's by a few feet.

Hawkmon, Tailmon, and V-mon are all wide awake. They watch as Takeru and Pegasmon disappear into the sky, accompanied by Tentomon. The boys fly out along a river, joined by Iori and Submarimon down below.

Submarimon: Daisuke won't be happy about this-dagyaa. Iori: Probably not. Tentomon: Why didn't we ask Daisuke-han to come with us? Takeru: We couldn't just leave Hikari and the others by themselves, could we?

I mean. You didn't have a problem with it last episode. Weird thing to suddenly get sexist about. What happened last night? Did you have too much Daisuke exposure for one trip? Didn't realize what you were signing up for with this mission?

There is actually a valid reason for leaving Daisuke behind and it's that he'd be dead weight. Raidramon can't actually fly; Only run fast and leap far. It hasn't been an issue before, but Daisuke does not have an effective mode of transportation for combing the ocean.

But Takeru doesn't say that, so I don't know what's up here. They also don't discuss why Hikari and Miyako are being left behind again at all. Those two stayed behind for a reason earlier and they already took care of that.

Whatever the case, Takeru and Iori keep going, following a straight line of Dark Towers leading out into the ocean.

For the dub, the role of the narrator today is filled by the sound of Davis snoring.

Gatomon: Does Davis always snore like that? Veemon: Every night. Gatomon: How do you sleep!? Veemon: I don't.... (T.K. flies away on Pegasusmon) Veemon: Where are those guys going? (Down below, Submarimon and Cody joins them) Submarimon: I still think we should have told the others before we left. Tentomon: It may be none of my beeswax but why didn't you ask Davis to come with us? T.K.: I didn't want to leave Kari and Yolei alone anymore. Don't worry, he'll understand. Tentomon: I'm just glad I'm not going to be the one to tell him.

Dry as the narrator's exposition usually is, it bridges the gap between the end of the last scene and the beginning of this one and sets the stage for where we are now. As with some of the changes last episode, losing it makes this one feel more isolated.

But it's not much of a loss; The boys already made plans to come back after sunset if they didn't find the base. So if you're paying that much attention to the continuity between episodes, you can easily assume they did just that.

The only thing they have to replace it with, however, is yet more dunking on Davis. This opening is going to dunk on Daisuke though so unlike last episode, it's well-timed.

Meanwhile, they also tweak T.K.'s line to add the word "anymore". That way, he at least acknowledges that this decision contradicts him making that very choice and being fine with it yesterday.

Back at camp, the girls wake up. While Hawkmon munches on a rice ball, Hikari reads off an email Iori left them on her D-Terminal.

Hikari: They know where the Kaiser's fortress is headed. Miyako: (intrigued) Ooh, where!?

You might notice a terminology shift here. Last episode, we were calling it the Kaiser's 基地 kichi, which means a base. It can be a military base or an expedition base or what have you; All we know about it is that it is the base of operations for the Digimon Kaiser.

Now the girls have spotted the full base and not just what was sticking out of the ground earlier. Thus, the terminology has been updated to the Kaiser's 要塞 yosai, which means his stronghold or fortress.

We cut to the row of Dark Towers leading out to sea as if to answer Miyako's question, and then back to Daisuke whining to himself. Next to him, V-mon munches on a chicken drumstick.

Daisuke: (dismal) They really left me behind.... V-mon: (concerned) Don't let it get to you, Daisuke.

Meanwhile, inside his command center, the Kaiser inspects his new creation - though we can't see the screen very well so it's not easy to make out.

Wormmon: What about the final piece? Kaiser: Huhuhuhu... Relax. We'll have it soon enough.

With a smug grin, he takes a drink from a steaming cup of tea. We can't see if he's holding a saucer but I imagine he is for the added pretentiousness.

In the dub:

Kari: The email says they've figured out which way the Digimon Emperor is heading. Yolei: Let's see. (Shot of Control Spires going into ocean) Davis: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THEY LEFT WITHOUT ME!?!? (Cut to Davis pouting) Davis: How come nobody wants to go anywhere with me? Veemon: Well, Davis, it could be your snoring. (Cut to Wormmon and Emperor) Wormmon: Is it finished yet, Master? Emperor: Not quite. I still have a few minor details. Should he have four arms or six? Decisions, decisions....

He then loudly slurps his tea like an absolute monster.

The Kaiser has a clear plan in place for his creation. We don't know all the details, but he said last episode that he's found the Dark Whirlpool and this episode Wormmon asks about the final piece. It has been conveyed that there is one last piece remaining and the Kaiser intends to retrieve it from this Dark Whirlpool place.

As with Kabuterimon last episode, the Kaiser needs to directly encounter a particular kind of Digimon so that his Digivice can record its data and he can use it for his creation. That's why the fortress is taking him out to sea.

The dub cut the mention of the Dark Whirlpool and now depicts the Emperor still making basic outline choices. No idea why we're going to the ocean, then.

Camping with Hiroaki, Taichi and Yamato gather around Koushiro's laptop to read Iori's email too. It's addressed to "Everyone" and reads simply, "We're pursuing the Kaiser's fortress."

"Everyone" is not a valid email address so that's probably an email group. Which probably means that Sora, Jou, and Mimi just got this email with zero context. Popping open their D-Terminals like, "Oh. Huh. Okay, good for them."

But while the boys are playing on the laptop, Hiroaki cleans the cookpot by himself.

Hiroaki: Oh, why me...?

He is not having a good time on this trip. Brought these boys all the way out here to play on the computer. There were computers back home! He knows! They just made him buy one!

Speaking of people who aren't having a good time, Jun's back in the city and has continued with her stalking mission.

Jun: If I knew yesterday they were going to Yamanakako, I could have followed them right then and there!

山中湖 Yamanakako is one of the Five Fuji Lakes. As the name implies, they're a set of lakes around the base of Mt. Fuji. They're popular outdoor destinations for hiking, camping, fishing, etc. due to the gorgeous view of the mountain they provide.

Yamanakako or, literally, "The Mountain Lake" has the distinction being both the largest of the five lakes and the highest in elevation. It's about 1-2 hours drive west-southwest of Tokyo.

Unfortunately for Jun, she cannot drive nor does she have a convenient adult in her life to whom she can explain her Very Good Reasons for going to Yamanakako. And the bus just left the station. Jun breaks into a sprint after it, shouting:

Jun: HEY, DON'T LEAVE WITHOUT ME!!!

That's okay, Jun. Your brother isn't any better off. Back in the Digital World, Hikari and Miyako follow the trail of Dark Towers out to sea on the backs of Nefertimon and Horusmon.

Daisuke, left behind for a second time, comes running to the water's edge on Raidramon's back much too late.

Daisuke: No way! Hikari-chan and the others too!?

Raidramon can't fly, so Daisuke's screwed. This is a bad time to be a Motomiya. Daisuke and Jun are both 2 for 2 on being left behind now.

As usual, the dub rewrites the email to be in English. In the process deleting the To: and From: and Subject: lines and then not bothering to replace them.

They also changed the sender. The message reads, "We know where the Digimon Emperor is headed. -Kari." So apparently the first email only went to the girls, and then Kari took a moment to pass it on to Tai and the others before leaving. This is equally plausible.

Izzy: I'm getting an update from Kari. Hiroaki: Do any of you know how to catch a fish? ...I wish I had a TV dinner. (Cut to Jun in Tokyo) Jun: Alright, all I have to do is take the bus to the campsite and Matt-- (Bus loudly honks and takes off) Jun: WAIT, DON'T GO, I WANT TO GET ON!!! (Cut to Hikari and Yolei following the Control Spire trail) Yolei: Should we tell Davis we're leaving? Kari: (apathetic) Nah. He'll understand. (Davis trails behind) Davis: Why's everyone leaving!? Is it my snoring!?

XD Okay the repeat of "Davis will understand" in a flat and uncaring monotone got me.

The dub continues the trend from the first anime of removing references to specific Japanese locations. Yamanakako is now simply "the campsite".

As an aside, if you're wondering why there's a trail of Dark Towers/Control Spires leading to the Kaiser/Emperor's base, remember that those things are just conduits for the Dark Digivice's power. The Dark Digivice is a single point of failure for his entire network.

Those Towers/Spires are probably functioning as power lines to keep his entire empire supplied with dark energy while he goes out on this jaunt. If he broke contact, he'd lose his whole empire in an afternoon. You'd be able to hear Evil Rings snapping off 'round the globe.

...you know, we should probably knock some down while we're here.

Up ahead, Takeru and Pegasmon fly with Tentomon over the ocean, but all they see is open water and some of those classic "Single Palm Tree" deserted islands.

Pegasmon: I can't see shadow nor shape of it. Takeru: Do you think Iori-kun found anything?

影も形も Kage mo katachi mo, literally "shadow or shape", is a Japanese idiom that means the same as our English "hide nor hair".

Down in the ocean, Iori and Submarimon search. Iori has his D-Terminal popped upon and resting against a raised bit of Submarimon's dashboard.

Submarimon: What is it-dagyaa? Iori: They say they can't see anything from up there.

No more luck down here; All that's in front of them is a huge stone wall.

Submarimon: Same here-dagyaa. Iori: Yeah, I'll let them know.

As they're talking, they notice a huge metal dome jutting out of the stone wall up ahead.

Iori: (gasp)

Submarimon does a quick 180 and backs off to get a better look at the structure. Sure enough, that "stone wall" actually was a massive structure all along. And one they've seen before.

Submarimon: It's the Kaiser's base-dagyaa! Iori: I must inform Takeru-san-- Huh?

At that moment, Iori spots a passageway leading into the structure near the bottom that doesn't have a big metal dome over it.

In the dub:

Pegasusmon: We've been flying for hours and haven't seen a thing. T.K.: I'll check with Cody and see if he's seen anything. (Down below) Submarimon: What did T.K. say? Cody: They haven't spotted anything from up above. Submarimon: Well, we haven't seen much of anything either except seaweed. Maybe we should turn back. (Dome comes into view) Cody: Huh? What... is that thing!? Submarimon: Let's dig a little further. (They back off to get a better look) Submarimon: This thing is enormous! It makes Texas look like Rhode Island! It has to be the Digimon Emperor's base! Cody: I'll let T.K. know that we found it--Huh?

Cody's "What... is that thing!?" bugs me a little bit because they specifically came down here to find a that-thing-shaped object. Iori and Submarimon were momentarily caught off-guard because they were too close and underestimated its size. They also expected it'd be moving in the distance, and instead it's just sitting here. Waiting for something.

Cody and Submarimon are reacting like they've never seen the base before at all.

Up above, Takeru receives Iori's message on his D-Terminal. We get to see that message too, but also he reads it word for word.

Takeru: It says "We found the base! We're going to sneak in through a cave." Tentomon: Are they going to be okay? Takeru: I'll tell them not to push themselves too hard.

While Takeru's typing, the water below begins to swirl.

Pegasmon: Takeru, look! Takeru: Huh?

Watching from their vantage above, the boys see a huge chunk of the ocean fall away into a massive whirlpool.

Takeru: A whirlpool?

Down in the Kaiser's control room, a swirl icon appears on a white grid on his screen.

Kaiser: Hmph. Seems like it's finally shown itself. Wormmon: (frightened) What is that, Ken-chan? Kaiser: You could call this the entrance to a source for the power of Darkness. There should be data on Darkness-type Digimon in there. Once I have that, my Original Digimon will be complete. Wormmon: ...

Wormmon, for the moment, is silent while the words of the Kaiser sink in.

We haven't really seen much in the way of Dark Digimon thus far. We've seen plenty of Viruses under the Kaiser's control, to be sure. We also have seen a Devidramon and we've seen some Bakemon, so they haven't been completely unrepresented.

But truly malevolent creatures like Devimon or Vamdemon have been absent from the Kaiser's collection of controlled Digimon. Darkness, the kind of Darkness that once sought to control the Digital World through Apocalymon's reality distortions, hasn't really collided with the Kaiser yet.

Note that when the Kaiser calls this place the 原 minamoto, the source... that's an ambiguous statement. He could mean it in the sense that this is the source, the origin point for all Dark Power, or that it's simply a source, a resource he can harvest for Dark Power.

A lot about the Dark Whirlpool is open to interpretation.

In the dub, Cody's email is rewritten to read, "Found base. Will sneak in through underwater cave. ~Cody." Basically the same but with shittier grammar, which mildly bugs me because I feel like Cody would type full sentences.

T.K.: It's from Cody. They found the base and are going to try and sneak in through an underwater cave. Tentomon: That sounds kind of dangerous! Maybe they should wait! (Whirlpool begins to swirl) Pegasusmon: T.K., look! T.K.: Huh? (Whirlpool appears) T.K.: A whirlpool...? Tentomon: Oh no! They'll get sucked right into it!

To give Tentomon space to deliver that line and make a cliffhanger out of this, the dub splices in a clearer shot of Takeru and Tentomon flying over the fully developed Dark Whirlpool from later in the episode. Then they take their first commercial break.

On return, we join the Emperor in his control room.

Emperor: Hmm, looks like it's finally here. Wormmon: What is that, Master? A new way to hypnotize your slaves? Emperor: No, you fool. You might call it a gateway to the source of the powers of Darkness. But for simplicity's sake, let's just call it the Dark Pool. I think it's caused by an evil Digimon, and if I can tap into its power then I'll have everything I need to complete my very own Digimon!

Ahh, the evil counterpart of Deadpool. I gotcha.

I don't know why they cut the "Whirl" out of it.

The Kaiser also adds the detail that an evil Digimon is creating "the source of the powers of Darkness". Which... may or may not be true. Again, heavily open to interpretation.

After hearing the Kaiser's plans, Wormmon hesitates for about three seconds. But then he can't bring himself to be silent anymore.

Wormmon: You have to stop, Ken-chan! Kaiser: What did you just say to me? Wormmon: I can feel it... I can't really put words to it very well. There's something terrifying inside that whirlpool. I'm scared!

As usual, the Kaiser doesn't give a shit about what Wormmon thinks. He gets up and walks away, dismissively uttering:

Kaiser: What a coward....

Wormmon desperately scurries after the Kaiser, screeching:

Wormmon: NO!!! YOU CAN'T GO, KEN-CHAN-- Kaiser: I DON'T TAKE ORDERS FROM YOU!!!

Ken turns and aggressively kicks Wormmon across the room. Wormmon bounces once on his head, then hits the ground on his belly and slides to a stop.

In the dub, the Emperor's dialogue is longer so Wormmon doesn't have any time to hesitate before responding.

Wormmon: Please, Master, don't do it. Emperor: What are you talking about? Of course I'll do it. Wormmon: But it feels like evil itself is coming from that Dark Pool. You can't feel it because you're not a Digimon. Emperor: Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to stop my master plan because of a silly feeling of yours! Wormmon: But on an evil scale of 1 to 10, that Dark Pool is really evil. Emperor: Ehe! Fine. Then you stay away from it. In the meantime, I've got things to do. (Emperor gets up and walks away) Wormmon: Please don't ignore me. Emperor: Oh, I'm sorry. HOW'S THIS!?!?

We don't see the Kaiser's foot make contact; We just see him twist his body, hear the impact, and see Wormmon sent flying. So the dub doesn't have to censor it for the Emperor, though they do use a comical bonk sound to try and lighten it.

The Kaiser is, as usual, above the opinions of his Partner while the Emperor actually bothers to stop and argue.

The original does not specify that only Digimon can feel what's in there, and both versions will in fact contradict that later. Though it does strongly suggest that Digimon are more sensitive to it, so they're half-right here.

The dub is, again, really hyping up what's down there. "Evil itself" is waiting for us. An evil Digimon creating the source of all Dark Power, who is "really evil on a scale of 1 to 10". Again, in the original, all that's been said is that it's the source of Dark Power, it is fucking scary, and the Kaiser hopes to harvest some Dark Digimon data from it.

Up topside, we catch up with Hikari and Miyako.

Nefertimon: A giant whirlpool!? If that's the case, we need to tell Armadimon and Iori since they're infiltrating the base! Hikari: That's right!

I agree too. I also think it's weird that Takeru thought the girls needed to know and not Iori. We don't see the message Hikari sends back, but it was clearly "WTF Takeru".

Takeru: I know that, but I lost contact with them a while ago. Tentomon: In any case, we need to do something fast! Pegasmon: Yeah. This is going to get ugly. Takeru: Yeah... On that note, what has you guys spooked all of a sudden? Tentomon: Of course we're freaking out! Just look at that whirlpool.... Pegasmon: Takeru, can you not feel that?

Takeru stares down into the whirlpool for a moment. Deep down in its depths, he can sense a dark, unearthly high-pitched wailing as the water melds into a grotesque, eldritch gray backdrop.

Takeru: I-I feel it! What is that!?

Darkness, Takeru. That's Darkness, is what that is.

In the dub:

Nefertimon: A huge whirlpool? And Cody and Submarimon are inside the base? We've got to warn them. Kari: Try to contact them with the D-3. (Cut to T.K.) T.K.: Don't you think I've tried that already!? Something seems to be blocking the transmission.... Tentomon: We can't just hover here! We've got to do something! Pegasusmon: Tentomon's right! We're running out of time! T.K.: Yeah... Are you guys feeling okay? Tentomon: Well, I think I might be getting a bug but other than that, I'm fine! Pegasusmon: I am feeling a little strange. How about you, T.K.? T.K.: I'm not really sure.... (T.K. senses something deep below) T.K.: I... I feel... kinda weird....

The D-3 cannot be used to contact people. Only to track the signal from their own D-3 or Digivice. The D-Terminal is what is used to contact people.

A moment ago, the dub established independent of the original script that only Digimon can sense what's in the Whirlpool. Now, one scene later, T.K. is the one who senses it while Tentomon has no idea what he's talking about.

Down in the base, Iori and Armadimon climb a very long flight of metal stairs. They come to a window looking into a pinkish reddish chamber.

Inside the chamber is a massive reactor looking like something out of Star Wars with four walkways leading to it from each direction.

Iori: This might be the power room. Armadimon: Let's smash it-dagyaa! Iori: Hang on, we should look around more first. Armadimon: Understood-dagyaa. By the way, Iori, aren't you cold-dagyaa? Iori: No? Armadimon: That's weird. I've been getting chills for a while now....

Putting Wormmon, Tentomon, Pegasmon, and Armadimon's reactions together, we can see that the Digimon are all very sensitive to the power in the Dark Whirlpool. The humans aren't, but they can feel it if they make the effort like Takeru did.

Cut to the front of the fortress. A panel lowers, revealing an observation deck embedded in the stone exterior. Inside, Wormmon is still pleading with the Kaiser to turn back.

Wormmon: I'm begging you to stop! Just this once! Or else we won't be able to turn back! KEN-CHAN!!! Kaiser: ... Wormmon: ... Kaiser: Take us in.

At the Kaiser's command, the fortress begins moving once more. It forges ahead through the water towards the Dark Whirlpool.

Watching from above, Takeru's group can see the massive structure beneath the waves.

Tentomon: Ack! It's started moving! Pegasmon: And it's heading for the whirlpool! Takeru: ...Iori....

The Kaiser is marching straight into harm's way and unknowingly taking Iori with him.

In the dub, Armadillomon gets an extra line to complain while they're climbing the stairs.

Armadillomon: I'm tired. Don't they have an escalator in this place?

Valid complaint. This staircase was clearly built for an athlete.

(Cody finds the power room) Cody: Whoa! Armadillomon: My thoughts exactly. Cody: This has to be the engine room. Armadillomon: I say we destroy this place once and for all. Cody: We will, but let's take a look around first. Armadillomon: Alright, if you say so. Hey, you think it's kinda cold in here? Cody: Not especially. Armadillomon: That's weird. 'Cause I just can't seem to warm myself up. The chill of evil's in the air.... Cody: Don't be so dramatic.

I love that "chill of evil" line. 10/10, understood the assignment.

They also give the Emperor an early quip just before the panel opens.

Emperor: You know what this place needs? More window space. (Panel opens) Emperor: There! Wormmon: Master, I know you hardly ever listen to me. Okay, you never listen to me. But please, just this once, do what I ask. Don't do it. Emperor: Hmm... I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. Did you say something? (Fortress begins moving forward) Tentomon: Look! It's on the move! Pegasusmon: And heading for the whirlpool! T.K.: Cody!

Wormmon's last desperate plea for reason falling on deaf ears is played as a laugh line.

Back inside the base, Iori and Armadimon have found their way into a dungeon lined with barred cells.

Armadimon: We've started moving! Iori: This place....

Iori's more interested in the cells than the motion. Lot of familiar faces behind those bars. One cell has an Elecmon and a Delumon in it. The next contains a Floramon and a Mushmon. All Child Digimon except for the Perfect Delumon.

Iori: These are all Digimon that the Kaiser's captured. Armadimon: What should we do-dagyaa? Iori: This has to come before the power room. Armor Evolve and break them out of these cells. Armadimon: Makes sense to me-dagyaa. Iori: Alright. DIGIMENTAL--huh?

Suddenly, Iori notices a... screen in the ceiling of a cell showing an aerial view of the Dark Whirlpool. I have no idea what that is or why it would be there.

Iori: What... is that...?

Armadimon doesn't have an answer, but he continues rubbing his arms from the eerie chills he's getting.

Back on the observation deck, the Kaiser watches as the Dark Whirlpool draws nearer.

Kaiser: Now... Enter the Whirlpool.

The base keeps on going, getting closer and closer to the worst mistake of the Kaiser's life.

In the dub:

Armadillomon: Hey, we're moving.... Cody: Armadillomon, look! This place is like a prison. It must be where the Digimon Emperor keeps all of his captured slaves. I guess you guys didn't have a very good lawyer! Armadillomon: So what are we gonna do about it? Cody: This is more important than the engine room. You'd better Armor Digivolve and break the bars open. Armadillomon: Now that's a good idea. Cody: DIGI-ARMOR--Huh? (Dark Whirlpool screen on the ceiling for some reason) Cody: What is that thing!? Armadillomon: ... (silently rubs arms from chills) Cody: My thoughts precisely. (Cut to observation deck) Emperor: Huhuhuhu... Now, enter the Dark Whirlpool! Huhuhuhu AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh, it's not that funny.

Cody fucking makes a flippant joke to the faces of imprisoned slaves. Thanks, I hate it.

What I do like is the way Armadillomon getting chills serves, in and of itself, as the answer to Cody's question. Harkening back to that "chill of evil in the air" moment.

The dub suddenly starts referring to it as Dark Whirlpool here despite renaming it Dark Pool previously.

Cut to Jun standing in the middle of a busy street. She demonstrates her own particular hitchhiking style by being a public menace recklessly endangering herself.

Jun: WHY WON'T YOU STOP!?!?

I need to gush about what a beautiful segue this is. The Kaiser gives the command to enter the Whirlpool, then a shot of Wormmon's silent but concerned face, and then the fortress moves forward while Jun screams "WHY WON'T YOU STOP!?!?" as if speaking directly from Wormmon's anguished heart.

While, in her context, a blue car whips past uncaring of her hitchhiking only to get stopped by traffic a short ways ahead. An ugly metaphor for what's about to come for the Kaiser? Perhaps.

A red sports car pulls up shortly after, honking for Jun to get in.

Jun: Hooray!

Jun hops in the backseat and lets an elderly couple, Mary and Kenny, take her away. Yes, those are their names in the Japanese version.

Mary: She's going camping, Kenny! Oh, it must be nice to be young. Kenny: Mary, you and I were young too once.

They are not, however, young anymore. They're passed on the highway by several cars whipping by much faster than them and one moped. Jun lets out a sigh, resting her head on her hand and settling in for a long drive.

The dub ruins the meaningful juxtaposition of "WHY WON'T YOU STOP". In addition to tying the preceding bit up with the Emperor being goofy instead of silent drama, they cut the opening to this scene to avoid showing Jun hitchhiking. We go straight to her in the back of Mary and Kenny's car.

They also rearrange the shots to have the cars and moped passing the sports car first, then the interior shot of the vehicle.

Jun: Thanks for the lift, Grandpa. I can't believe they left without taking me. Grandma: So, you're going camping? That's nice. We used to do lots of camping, didn't we, dear? Grandpa: Yeah. Until that time I used poison ivy instead of toilet paper! Jun: Huh? (sigh)

Also to avoid letting the characters hitchhike, Mary and Kenny have been rewritten to be Jun's grandparents who she called for a ride.

As Jun settles in for a long car ride, we transition over to Daisuke centered in the same spot and pose as her. This episode's really playing up the parallel between the Motomiya siblings.

Daisuke's at the edge of the landmass, contemplating a palm tree.

V-mon: What are you thinking, Daisuke? Daisuke: What if we knock down this tree and carve it into a dugout? V-mon: Aha! That's a great idea! Daisuke: As long as we're on the same page!

A dugout is a type of canoe made from hollowing out the trunk of a single tree.

Since V-mon agrees, Daisuke moves forward with his plan. He steps forward and presses on the tree trunk, trying to shove it over by brute strength alone. Shockingly, it works. The trunk shifts forward with no effort at all, like a lever being thrown. Daisuke stumbles back in shock.

Daisuke: DAH!!!

Steered by the palm tree, the patch of land they're standing on drives forth out onto the water, departing from the greater continent.

V-mon: What's going on here? Daisuke: What the heck...?

The boys take a moment to adjust to the realization that all these single-palm-tree deserted islands are, in fact, boats. But they are. So that means....

Daisuke: Oh well! We can catch up to the others now. V-mon: YAHOO!!!

A startling discovery but not an unwelcome one. Sometimes, in a dire situation, the fucking weirdness of the Digital World delivers!

The dub maintains the mirror shots of Jun and Davis through the transition.

Davis: Hmm.... Veemon: Davis, what are you doing? Davis: I'm thinking about how we can make a canoe out of this tree. Veemon: Great! How are we gonna do it? Davis: First, we push this tree down! (Davis pushes the tree and it moves like a lever) Davis: AGH!!! (Island starts moving) Veemon: A little too hard. Davis: Beats a canoe! Ahh... Smell that salt air! Veemon: Hey, Davis? How come we're on land and I'm getting seasick?

Valid question and an actually good place for a laugh line.

Back at the Dark Whirlpool, the Kaiser's fortress breaches through the side of the whirlpool and enters its eye. From above, Takeru's team lays eyes on it for the first time.

Tentomon: WHOA, THAT THING'S HUGE!!! Takeru: There should be a cave somewhere on it that Iori-kun went in through. We'll infiltrate from there as well. Pegasmon: Understood.

Together, the three of them descend towards the structure. As they enter the whirlpool, ghastly spirits swirl in the waters behind them.

Takeru: What are these? Ghosts? They're giving me chills.... Pegasmon: What's giving me chills is that pitch-black space in the open maw down below.

Takeru turns his attention to the darkness at the bottom of the whirlpool. His eyes are drawn down the darkening waters to the place unseeable at the very--

Pegasmon: Don't look at it! Takeru: Ah!

Takeru suddenly blinks, like he's snapping out of a daze.

Tentomon: You have to be careful or it will devour you.

Finding the cave, the boys head inside the Kaiser's fortress and away from... whatever that is down below.

In the dub:

Tentomon: That's the biggest mobile home I've ever seen! It must be impossible to find parking. T.K.: Come on, guys! We gotta find the cave that Cody and Armadillomon used to get inside! Hurry up, they might be in trouble! (The boys descend into the whirlpool and pass the ghosts) T.K.: This place feels... evil. What are those things!? Pegasusmon: Don't pay any attention to them. They're just trying to scare you. They live in the Dark Whirlpool and feed off fear. (T.K. looks down at the bottom) Pegasusmon: Don't look at it! T.K.: Ah! Tentomon: (freaked out) Ooogh, can I sit up here with you guys? Pegasusmon: Look! T.K.: This has to be the cave!

The dub explains the ghosts as lifeforms that dwell inside the Dark Whirlpool and feed on fear. Harmless Monsters Inc. critters trying to give T.K. a good spook. It does not address the bottom of the whirlpool except to say "Don't look at it".

This sudden context jump makes it a bit confusing as to what T.K. isn't supposed to look at. Is it the spookers? Was he looking at the spookers?

Inside the observation deck, guess which dipshit is staring straight down into the black maw.

Kaiser: ... Wormmon: Ken-chan? Kaiser: Ah!

Like Takeru, the Kaiser seems to suddenly snap out of some sort of daze.

Wormmon: Are you okay? Kaiser: (rattled) It's nothing. (commanding) COMMENCE THE COLLECTION!!!

Beneath the observation deck, a hangar opens. Three Mekanorimon descend into the whirlpool. As they descend, the ghastly spirits leave the waters, drifting through the air now around them.

Suddenly, something seizes the lowest Mekanorimon. The Digimon lets out a scream as it's suddenly wrenched around in the air, and then pulled down below.

Kaiser: What happened!?

He doesn't get an answer, as the other two Mekanorimon follow soon after. They plunge screaming into the swirling abyss, dragged down by an unseen force.

Kaiser: ANSWER ME!!! WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?

Still no answer. They're gone.

Kaiser: (disturbed) What the hell is happening...? Wormmon: I knew this wouldn't be possible to collect. Let's stop here, Ken-chan.

Brushing Wormmon off, the Kaiser turns and walks away from the glass.

Wormmon: Where are you going? Kaiser: If that's how it's going to be, then I'll go collect it myself.

On that ominous very good idea note, the original takes its commercial break here.

In the dub:

Emperor: Hmm.... Wormmon: Master? Emperor: Hm? Wormmon: Are you alright? Emperor: Never been better! INITIATE THE ATTACK!!! (Mekanorimon descend; First Mekanorimon plunges screaming into abyss) Emperor: What's going on!? (Second and third follow) Emperor: (furious) They're gone! HOW'D THAT HAPPEN!?!? (No answer) Emperor: Sector A, report! Sector B, come in! Sector C! Where is everybody!? Wormmon: They were never very good at spelling. Emperor: RRGH!!! (Emperor storms off) Wormmon: Where are you going? Emperor: If you want something done right, do it yourself!

The dub foregoes commercial here. The original's about a minute and a half early on their commercial, so kicking it out a ways makes sense.

The Kaiser shows a couple chinks in his armor here. Like Takeru, he briefly gets mesmerized by the thing at the bottom. And a couple times in this scene, he honestly seems scared. Brief moments where his arrogance cracks and, just for a second, a voice of reason in the back of his head starts asking if this is really a good idea.

In addition to Wormmon who has bluntly been asking that question since they got here.

The Emperor just loses his temper. No inkling of caution or reason from him.

Also, I don't know why the Mekanorimon are named Sector A, B, and C. That's a weird terminology choice. Those are names for areas, not units.

Returning from commercial, we find Digmon hard at work meticulously drilling off the bars from each cell.

As the latest set of bars falls, the Floramon and Mushmon inside the cell happily emerge into freedom.

Takeru, Patamon, and Tentomon approach from behind.

Takeru: Iori-kun! Iori: Ah, Takeru-san! We're releasing all the captured Digimon. Tentomon: Gotcha! I'll lend a hand. PETIT THUNDER!!!

While Digmon drills, Tentomon zaps the spot he's drilling with electricity. How exactly this helps is unclear. Iori supervises them, but Takeru notices the inexplicable screen in the ceiling of a cell showing an exterior shot of the Dark Whirlpool.

Takeru: (contemplative) That Kaiser... What is he up to?

I don't know what information he thinks he's going to glean from this feed.

A note about the animation: When Digmon drills the bars, there's a delay between when Digmon stops drilling and when they actually fall off. The dub riffs on that.

Digmon: This one's stuck! (Bars fall off) Digmon: Whoops. T.K.: Cody! Cody: Hi, guys! I'm glad you're here. We were just setting these captive Digimon free. Tentomon: Oh, why didn't you say so? That's my specialty! SUPER SHOCKER!!! (Everyone works on the bars while T.K. notices the screen) T.K.: I can just tell... There's something out there....

At this point, everyone knows there's something out there, T.K. Except Cody. We still have not informed Cody.

Takeru ponders what the Kaiser is planning and as he does, we cut to the Kaiser to see his bad idea to fruition.

Piloting a Mekanorimon himself, the Kaiser descends into the whirlpool's depths.

Wormmon: (radio) Ken-chan, you don't have to do this. Kaiser: Quiet!

Suddenly, he spots something! The upper body of a half-finished Devimon. This is what he was looking for.

The inexplicable jail cell screen now displays the feed from the Kaiser's descent as well.

Takeru: Devimon!?

The Kaiser extends some kind of suction device which begins siphoning away Devimon's data. The half-finished Dark Digimon begins to disintegrate into pixels, sucked into the device.

Kaiser: With this, my Original Digimon will be complete! Voice: (skeptical) Are you truly so capable of mastering the power of Darkness? Kaiser: (startled) W-Who's there!? Voice: (amused) You underestimate the power of Darkness. Huhuhuhu.... Kaiser: ...am I just hearing things?

The Kaiser tries to reassert his confidence. But it's clear that he's scared. He's sweating pretty hard for someone who's allegedly in control of the situation.

Kaiser: Hmph! Either way, it's speaking nonsense. As the king of the Digital World, is there anything I can't do? Huhuhu... HAHAHAHA!!!

This is where the whirlpool being open to interpretation really comes into focus. What is this? What is happening here? Is that the Devimon? The one from File Island? Is Devimon the thing at the bottom of the Whirlpool, or is this half-complete Digimon just a manifestation of the Darkness's power?

In the dub:

Wormmon: (radio) Master, please come back. You don't know what's out there. Emperor: Quiet! (Emperor finds Devimon) T.K.: Devimon!? Devimon: Huhuhuhuhu....

Here, the dub takes its second commercial break. Upon return, they replay T.K. watching Devimon be discovered but this time Devimon doesn't laugh.

T.K.: Impossible.... (Emperor extracts Devimon data) Emperor: I'll take what I need from this Digimon, then my Digimon will be completed! Voice: Are you sure? Emperor: Huh? Voice: Do you really believe you can control the powers of Darkness? Emperor: Alright, who are you!? Voice: I am here to warn you. Beware the Darkness! Huhuhuhu.... Emperor: Beware the Darkness? ...ha! I'm the Digimon Emperor. I rule this world and some voice comes out of nowhere and tells me to beware the Darkness!? Who does he think he's kidding!? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

The dub stakes its position pretty unambiguously. This is the Devimon from File Island, and the Dark Whirlpool is the manifestation of his power.

Episode title "An Old Enemy Returns"

"An evil Digimon at the bottom of the whirlpool is responsible for creating the Source of Dark Power."

Devimon laughs going into the commercial break, indicating that this is a conscious and living Digimon and not just an assembly of data.

The source of the Dark Whirlpool is our old nemesis Devimon, and he's the one directly talking to and mocking the Emperor. Which... may or may not also be what's happening in the original.

...it's super odd that the voice says "I'm here to warn you to beware the Darkness". No, it's not. It's here to ridicule him. Why would Devimon himself be warning him away from Devimon?

In any case, Ken included, the new generation haven't had to deal with the kind of traumatic shit that the veterans went through. They get to experience a Digital World created by the veterans' triumph over things like Devimon. Ken's been playing on Easy Mode, doesn't realize it, and is about to unleash a true nightmare.

However, there is one person who does recognize the mistake that the Kaiser is mistaking. In the dungeon, Takeru watches the Kaiser collect Devimon's data through the screen.

Narrator: Takeru still remembered that moment. Three years ago, Angemon gave his own life to seal away Devimon's dark power.

Flashback to Angemon's sacrifice on that day. A young Takeru watches helplessly while his Partner pulls the Holy Light of all seven Digivices into himself, overloading himself to channel the power he needs to strike Devimon down.

Takeru (V.O.): Back then, I desperately wished that I could turn back time. But time only flows one way. Even when we don't want to, we have to face our reality. Drowning in endless despair, I cursed my fate.

The truth of the Dark Whirlpool's power has triggered something in Takeru.

An interesting translation note here is that the Narrator describes Devimon's dark power as 封じた fuujita, which means "sealed away" or "blocked off". This is news to me; I was of the understanding that Angemon had just killed him.

Like I said, this is all wildly subject to interpretation. But my best understanding is that the Devimon inside the Dark Whirlpool is the sealed away power that Angemon carved away from Devimon. He killed Devimon but all that Darkness had to go somewhere and so it was sank into the bottom of the ocean.

All those Black Gears that Devimon took inside himself to become insanely super ultra powerful, all that Dark Power he absorbed to ascend to his kaiju form, is the roiling mass of Darkness now at the bottom of the Dark Whirlpool.

That's the source that the Kaiser is harvesting now, imprinted with Devimon's image and persona which is what was then taunting the Kaiser. Ken is ignorantly taking all that Darkness for himself, assured that he can control it, it's fine.

That is what I think is happening here. But it's equally plausible that the half-finished Devimon is merely a small sample of the greater Dark power at the bottom of the Whirlpool, and something else is speaking to him.

In any case, we return from Takeru's PTSD flashback on a hardened pair of eyes quivering with moisture. He pulls the hat from the top of his head.

Takeru: He doesn't know anything. He doesn't understand anything. He's OUT OF HIS GODDAMN MIND!!!

Takeru crushes his hat and furiously throws it to the ground.

Iori: Ah? Takeru-san?

Takeru drops his backpack too.

Takeru: No more. I'm not doing this with him anymore. I'M SETTLING THIS!!!

Takeru storms away to go kick the shit out of the Digimon Kaiser.

Iori: Ah! Where are you going!? Patamon: Takeru, wait!

Patamon flies after Takeru, but doesn't stop him. Iori remains with Digmon and Tentomon.

Digmon: What was that about-dagyaa?

Iori takes a step to follow after Takeru, but stops when he hears Tentomon calling after him.

Tentomon: Let Patamon look after Takeru while we work on freeing the prisoners. Iori: Oh... Yeah.

Honestly, Iori can probably go after Takeru. It's fine. He's not really contributing anything to the bar-cutting.

In the dub:

T.K.: Of all the Digimon that are out there, why did it have to be Devimon!? (Flashback) T.K. (V.O.): I'll never forget our battle four years ago. Angemon faced Devimon one-on-one! It was our last chance to defeat Devimon once and for all! T.K.: Angemon! Angemon: I'll get him. T.K. (V.O.): Angemon knew what he had to do. T.K.: Be careful! Devimon: COME HERE, PRETTY BOY!!! T.K. (V.O.) The only way to completely destroy Devimon's evil powers was for Angemon to sacrifice himself. I begged him not to do it but we both knew there was no choice. I always felt that it was my fault. That maybe I could have done something! But it was too late.

The dub describes Angemon's sacrifice as "completely destroying" Devimon's powers, which was what seemed to have happened before. But. Uh. If that's the case then what the hell is happening here?

Is this just an unrelated half-Devimon in a non-specific pit of evil? That is also possible.

T.K.: I was too young back then to know how to handle it. Too young to understand. Well, that was then. (T.K. throws hat) T.K.: AND THIS IS NOW!!! Cody: Huh? You okay, T.K.? T.K.: Cody, I've got some unfinished business to take care of. Time to get to work. (T.K. storms off) Cody: T.K., wait a minute! Patamon: T.K.!!! (Patamon flies after him) Digmon: Where's he off to? Maybe we should follow him. (Cody goes to follow) Cody: Mmm.... Tentomon: Don't worry! Patamon will take care of T.K. We need to keep working to free these Digimon. Cody: You're right.

Takeru is completely and utterly melting down. He's erupting with rage and it's all gunning straight for the Kaiser. This is personal now. The Kaiser (probably) just reawakened the thing that traumatized him so badly before.

Now Takeru, demonstrating what he learned from Taichi, wants to punch his trauma away. He wants to hit the Kaiser until it doesn't hurt anymore.

The Kaiser has no idea what he's awakened in Devimon. But he also has no idea what he's awakened in Takeru.

T.K. also gets mad and storms off, but he's more focused and heroic about it. He wants to prove to himself that he's become strong enough to prevent another tragedy like what befell Angemon from ever occurring again.

The Kaiser returns triumphant to his fortress. Entering his control room, he notices an alarm going off and a red dot blinking on a map of the base.

Kaiser: They're invading the base? Right under my nose? ...whatever, I don't have time for that right now.

Sitting down at the controls, the Kaiser raises his fortress from the Dark Whirlpool and departs. Then he turns his attention to his design. A pair of Devimon arms appear on the creature's shoulders.

Kaiser: A perfect fit! My Original Digimon is finally complete!

But while the Kaiser's celebrating, we cut briefly to Wormmon with trembling, frightened eyes. This is going to get bad.

In the dub, the Emperor's still fuming over that encounter.

Emperor: How could he not know who I am? I've told everybody.

In the original, we don't hear the alarm beeping until the Kaiser approaches his console but it's just beeping in sequence. The implication is that it's been beeping for a while now, but he hasn't been up here to notice. The dub has the effect of a screen suddenly turning on, indicating that the alarm is only now starting to go off.

Emperor: Huh? Well, what do you know. I have visitors and it's those kids. I don't have time to deal with those annoying brats right now! Wormmon: You sure have changed, Master. You used to love trying to destroy the DigiDestined. It was your favorite thing to do, next to putting coal in children's Christmas stockings. Emperor: Bah! Humbug! (Emperor adds the Devimon arms to his creation) Emperor: Now for the final touch. There! My masterpiece is finally completed! Nothing can stop me now!

Weird Christmas aside there. The dub came out in mid-November so it was sort of "Christmas lasts for fucking ever" Christmassy but wasn't really "Now is the time for airing Christmas specials" Christmassy.

A brief cut to Jun shows her asleep in the car, slowly making its way along the highway. A wider shot of the car on the highway shows Mt. Fuji in the background, so they're getting there.

Daisuke and V-mon are still making their way out to sea by palm tree island boat.

V-mon: Looks like they went really far. Daisuke: Yeah, and we need to hurry up and get there too. But we're... GODDAMMIT!!!

They are at the mercy of a vehicle with only one speed.

And so, a world apart, the Motomiyas ever so slowly trudge onward to rejoin parties that left them behind.

The dub adds Jun loudly snoring and her grandparents commenting on it, similar to Davis's snoring from the start of the episode.

Grandma: She sure can snore! Grandpa: No louder than you.... (Meanwhile in the Digital World) Veemon: Gee, Davis, the rest of the guys must be way ahead of us. Davis: Yeah! We're just gonna have to go faster! Agh, I still can't believe Kari did this to me!

Loud snoring is apparently a Motomiya family trait.

Hikari and Miyako are still in flight to the Dark Whirlpool.

Hikari: Hey, do you think Daisuke-kun is mad at us? Miyako: There was nothing we could do. Huh!? Look!

Miyako turns to answer Hikari's question, but when she looks ahead again, she spots the Kaiser's fortress coming the opposite direction.

Horusmon: It's coming right for us! Nefertimon: Careful, everyone!

Too late for caution. In his control room, the Kaiser's already spotted the girls and has them up on his screen.

Kaiser: What a perfect opportunity to test out my Original Digimon. GO... Chimeramon!

A hatch opens in the roof of the base. A lift raises Chimeramon up into the fresh air. Silently, they take flight and set out on their mission.

Somehow, the Kaiser has completely forgotten about the fact that there is an active insurgency taking place inside his lair.

In the dub:

Kari: Yolei, do you think Davis is really mad at us? Yolei: Nah, he's a pretty good sport. HEY!!! LOOK AT THAT!!! (Emperor's base coming back their way) Halsemon: It's headed right for us! Nefertimon: Alright, everyone, get ready. (Control room) Emperor: If I had known I was having visiting guests, I would have catered. Ooh! I can still give them a party favor. Go get 'em. (Fortress releases Chimeramon)

The Emperor has completely forgotten too but also he isn't salivating over the chance to use the Digimon he put all this work into the way the Kaiser is. He talks like this is any old deployment of an enslaved Digimon to fight.

Miyako: Something's coming this way.

Miyako adjusts her glasses to see better. We finally get a good look at the Kaiser's creation. And so does she.

Miyako: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!?

Chimeramon is a Perfect-stage Data-attribute Composite Digimon. They originally debuted in the Wonderswan V-Pet before going on to feature kind of prominently in the Tamers video games released during the airing of the Adventure shows.

These games followed protagonist Ryo Akiyama as he's thrust again and against into conflict with Millenniummon which, to my understanding, is a Jogress between a Chimeramon and a Mugendramon. He also runs into the Chosen Children of the anime sometimes? IDK.

The games are considered canon, with Ryo even making a cameo appearance in Our War Game. The second game, Tag Tamers, was released at around the same time as this Kaiser arc finale was airing and serves as a prequel. Ken and Ryo team up to take down Millenniummon with their respective Partners Wormmon and V-mon. It explores who Ichijouji Ken was before he was the Kaiser and how he came to be like that. Which the anime will also talk about in time.

But exactly what connection, if any, Ken's Chimeramon has with Millenniummon is a question for people who've actually played the games. The show is pretty explicit that Chimeramon is Ken's Original Creation Do Not Steal and has never, ever existed before now. So it's kind of hard for there to also be another Chimeramon that became Millenniummon before 02 ever began? It's weird.

Narrator: Chimeramon! A Composite Digimon created by the Digimon Kaiser by combining parts from various Digimon. They have a ferocious fighting instinct and immense destructive power. Their special attack is a deadly heat ray called Heat Viper.

They should be able to use special attacks from all of their component parts, but that's just me.

Through the inexplicable ceiling screen, Iori's group watches Chimeramon's deployment too.

Digmon: I've never seen nor heard of a Digimon like that before-dagyaa! Tentomon: We need to go fast! While Nefertimon and Horusmon are keeping that thing busy, we can free the rest of the prisoners! Iori: Got it!

Iori's team double-times it to finish up.

In the dub:

Yolei: Do you see what I see? (It's Kimeramon!) Yolei: What is that thing!? Emperor: (rundown) Hahaha! Kimeramon is my ultimate creation! I combined the most powerful parts of other Digimon to form this unstoppable fighting creature! His Heat Viper attack will melt my enemies into oblivion! (Cody and the others watch from the dungeon) Digmon: I've never heard of a Digimon like that before, and I get all the news from the underground! Tentomon: Listen, Cody. While those guys do battle with him, we can free the prisoners! Cody: Let's go!

Yeah, the official English spelling is "Kimeramon". I suspect this is another Horusmon/Halsemon case where they didn't know what that word meant. The Japanese spelling of chimera is キメラ kimera, because you can't use チ chi to make that hard 'k' sound, and the dub translated that straight across.

The girls fly into battle with Chimeramon.

Horusmon: RED SUN!!!

Horusmon takes the first shot, but his eye beams glance harmlessly off of Chimeramon's horn.

Kaiser: That won't work against Kabuterimon's metallic head. Nefertimon: CURSE OF QUEEN!!!

Chimeramon backs off, dodging Nefertimon's shots. Chimeramon then swoops around behind the girls, catching them off-guard with superior aerial maneuverability.

Kaiser: With Angemon's and Airdramon's wings, they're swift in the air.

Kaiser: Now it's my turn.

As Chimeramon descends from behind, Horusmon and Nefertimon split up. Chimeramon turns to follow Nefertimon, but smacks Horusmon out of the air with their tail.

Kaiser: Garurumon's legs and Monochromon's tail!

Chimeramon swipes at Hikari. Nefertimon dodges the Kuwagamon arm and then the SkullGreymon arm, but one of the two Devimon arms catches her from behind and smacks her down.

Kaiser: Arms from Kuwagamon, SkullGreymon, and Devimon! The body of Greymon and the hair of MetalGreymon! Well? Isn't the Digimon I created amazing?

Before he and Miyako can hit the water, Horusmon recovers. He rights himself and soars above the water's surface.

Miyako: What the hell is that thing!?

The hair.

The hair of MetalGreymon.

...okay but why though? Kaiser really had to stretch to try and fit a third Agumon form into his Fanfic Digimon. Notice me, Taichi-senpai.

In the dub:

Halsemon: TEMPEST WING!!! (No effect) Emperor: That's why I picked Kabuterimon's head. They don't come any more hard-headed. Nefertimon: CAT'S EYE BEAM!!! (Kimeramon dodges, then swoops around) Emperor: And he's fast with Airdramon and Angemon's wings! Playtime's over. Now it's my turn!

A white flash censors the point of impact when Kimeramon tail smacks Halsemon.

Emperor: Throw in Garurumon's legs as well as Monochromon's tail.

Another white flash censors the point of impact when Kimeramon swats Nefertimon.

Emperor: I added Kuwagamon's, SkullGreymon's, and Devimon's arms. His body is Greymon's and I topped him off with MetalGreymon's hair. He's perfect! Hahahahaha!

The dub takes its third commercial break here, which is surprisingly early for it. But also it makes sense because there is some shit about to come.

However, we come back right into the next scene, so Horusmon recovering from his fall and Miyako's final line end up cut. I guess they hit the water in this version.

Back in his control room, the Kaiser gloats about his creation.

Kaiser: Huhuhuhu...HAHAHAHAHA!!! This is exactly what I was expecting! Perfectly suited in every way to be my Partner Digimon.

Suddenly he turns and glares at poor little Wormmon. The Kaiser's eyes burn with contempt.

Kaiser: Unlike you.

There was an implication in the Agumon arc that the Kaiser was trying to replace Wormmon entirely and take Taichi's Agumon for his Partner Digimon. Now that he's made a new Agumon with extra bells and whistles, the Kaiser says the quiet part out loud. Chimeramon is to be his Partner going forward, not Wormmon.

While he's hyperfocused on that, the insurgency he ignored has reached its completion. The jailbroken Digimon descend a rope from the hidden cave onto one of those mobile islands while Iori, Digmon, and Tentomon supervise from the tunnel.

Nine Elecmon, four Mushmon, four Floramon, and four Delumon in total. Four very slappable Delumon because these birds are Perfect level and allowed themselves to be caged anyway.

Tentomon: That's the last one. Now it's our turn to get out of here. Iori: But what about Takeru-san? Tentomon: He can take care of himself. Come on, let's go!

Digmon picks up Iori with his scoopy hands and bounds down to the island. Only Takeru and Patamon remain within the fortress.

In the dub:

Emperor: Hahahahahaha! Where's my VCR? Ooh, I wish I was taping this! Take a good look at him, Wormmon. Now that's what a Partner should look like! (Emperor turns and scowls at Wormmon) Wormmon: Hmph! Not a scrawny runt like you. (Meanwhile, Cody frees the remaining prisoners) Tentomon: Okay, that's the last one! Come on! It's time we got out of here too! Cody: We can't leave without T.K. Tentomon: He'll be fine. We've got to get these Digimon to safety! Let's go!

The Emperor horribly dates this episode by knowing what a VCR is. XD If this were today, "Digimon Emperor DESTROYS Fake Nerd Girls" would already be up on YouTube and Tiktok.

In any case, this bit is pretty much perfect. No notes.

Still inside the Kaiser's base, Takeru storms down the hall while Patamon pleads with him to withdraw.

Patamon: Takeru! Can't we settle this later? We have bigger priorities right now.

Takeru doesn't even answer him. He keeps right on marching until a shadow emerges from a doorway up ahead, followed by the Digimon Kaiser. Who I guess has finally remembered about the intruders.

Kaiser: (playful) You have some nerve.... Sneaking inside the fortress of the Digimon Kaiser, who commands the power of Darkness! Huhuhu....

Takeru tries to keep a straight face. But after stifling his laughter for a moment, he loses the struggle and lets it out. That reaction catches the Kaiser offguard.

Takeru: Tehe! Kaiser: W-What!?

Takeru recovers and, with a confident smirk on his face, fixes a cold, hard gaze on the Kaiser.

Takeru: Ichijouji-san. How long have you been pretending to conquer the world? Are you having fun? Ken: ... Takeru: And now you're talking about the power of Darkness. But do you even know what that means? Ken: ... Takeru: You have no idea, do you? You won't get away with a simple injury. Isn't it time for you to grow up?

Takeru's words cut Ken down to his bone. This is not Daisuke. Takeru is not his bitter archnemesis, here to face the Kaiser in another exciting round of Heroes and Villains. He isn't speaking to the Digimon Kaiser at all. He's speaking to Ken-chan.

Ken is a petulant child playing with forces he cannot comprehend, and Takeru has no intention of giving him any more dignity than that.

In the dub:

Patamon: T.K., can't you do this later? We gotta get out of here while we can. Don't be so stubborn! T.K.: ...hm? (Emperor emerges) Emperor: I don't remember sending you an invitation. I must admit, you have a lot of nerve... Sneaking into the base of the most powerful being in the Digital World! Huhuhuhuhu.... (T.K. tries to keep a straight face and fails) T.K.: Ahahaha! Emperor: What's so funny!? T.K.: Let me ask you something, Ichijouji. Don't you think it's time that you gave up on this little charade? It's getting old. Ken: ... T.K.: You say you're the most powerful being in the Digital World and yet you have no idea about the powers that are here! Ken: ... T.K.: You're a pretender. You're like that story, "The Emperor's New Clothes".

This is pretty close. The original hits harder, though. It's the attitude. T.K. is angry and accusatory in his delivery, while Takeru is aloof and condescending. "It's getting old!" vs. "Are you having fun?"

This is what cuts Ken so deeply in the original. He doesn't just tell Ken to eat shit. He talks as if all of this Digimon Kaiser nonsense is beneath him.

Because compared to what he and his team went through three years ago? It is.

Ken takes a moment, struggling to even come up with a retort. But in the end, the only thing he can spew from his mouth is frothing anger.

Ken: You worm! YOU WORM!!! WORM, WORM, WORM!!! Takeru: Is that all you have to say? Ken: SH-SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Before he knows what he's doing, Ken lashes Takeru with his whip. He lands a direct hit to the left side of Takeru's face. Takeru doesn't even flinch as the whip strikes him, then falls ineffectually to the ground. Even Ken seems surprised by what he just did.

Ken: ...oogh.... Patamon: (gasp)

Takeru calmly reaches up, feeling the bloody wound on the side of his face. Then he pulls his hand away and inspects it for blood.

Takeru: You can't get your way with words, so you resort to violence, huh? Ken: (stunned) N-No.... Takeru: Hm? Am I wrong? Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Are you finished? Ken: ... Takeru: Guess so. Now it's my turn.

Ken has just enough time to let out a gasp before Takeru crosses the hall and decks him. A right haymaker takes Ken off his feet, laying him out on the hallway floor. He drops his whip as he goes down; It falls to the floor where he'd been standing.

In the dub:

Ken: YOU'RE NOBODY!!! NOT LIKE ME!!! You will bow down before me! T.K.: Sorry, the floor's kind of dirty. Ken: YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!!!

They censor the moment of impact for the whiplash with a white flash but, to my surprise, they do leave it in there.

Ken: Agh! Patamon: (gasp)

They also leave in the bloody wound T.K. gets from it.

T.K.: Hm... When you can't think of anything to say, do you always resort to fighting? Ken: ...I guess? T.K.: That's your problem. You don't know when to talk and when to fight. Now's a good time to talk. Ken: ... T.K.: On the other hand, IT'S ALSO A GOOD TIME TO FIGHT!!!

T.K. punching Ken in the face is also retained, with a white flash obscuring the moment of impact. They seem to have judged this fistfight too important to mess with, and they are correct.

Again, the dub covers the material pretty well but you can feel the tonal difference. Takeru's condescending behavior has Ken completely on the backfoot. Even Ken's shocked when he cracks the whip; It just kind of happens out of pure desperation to make Takeru stop talking down to him.

(Takeruing down to him?)

By contrast, T.K. and Ken seem like they're on the same level. Dub Ken hasn't utterly lost control of this conversation the way his original counterpart has, and T.K.'s dialogue comes off as more reasonable pre-fight banter.

Outside, the battle with Chimeramon remains ongoing.

Tentomon dodges and swerves to avoid rays of what I assume are Heat Viper. One shot kicks up a massive explosion of water.

Nefertimon and Horusmon drop off Hikari and Miyako on Iori's island, then return to the fray. The girls call after them.

Hikari: Be careful out there, Nefertimon! Horusmon!

Chimeramon emerges from the water spray and charges up another shot in their mouth. They fire on Tentomon once again. Tentomon nimbly flips upwards in the air to avoid the shot, which continues on and strikes the Kaiser's fortress.

In the dub:

Kari: Nefertimon! Halsemon! You guys be careful, okay? Kimeramon: HEAT VIPER!!!

The only difference is that Kimeramon calls their attack.

Inside the base, Takeru is on top of Ken and pummeling him in the face.

The sudden impact jostles Takeru just enough that Ken's able to push him off. Ken scrambles for his whip, snatching it from the floor and lashing it at Takeru.

Takeru catches the goddamn whip out of the air.

Ken: WHAT!?!?

Takeru throws it to the floor and lunges, tackling the Kaiser and taking him back off his feet.

Outside, Horusmon spins up his tornado attack.

Horusmon: TEMPEST WING!!! Nefertimon: ROSETTA STONE!!!

Both attacks slam uselessly into Chimeramon, who doesn't even seem to notice. Worse, Tempest Wing brings Horusmon straight into melee distance.

Horusmon: What can we do!?

Horusmon tries to back off, but one of the Devimon hands smacks him out of the air. He lands hard on his shoulder, skidding across the fortress's roof. Chimeramon closes in to capitalize on his momentary vulnerability.

In the dub:

(T.K. catches the whip) Ken: HEY!!! (T.K. tackles him; Meanwhile, outside) Halsemon: TEMPEST WING!!! Nefertimon: ROSETTA STONE!!! (No effect) Halsemon: They had no effect! (Chimeramon smacks him down)

Solid.

Seeing how badly Ken's being beaten, Wormmon tries to intervene.

Wormmon: NEBANEBA NET!!!

ネバネバ Nebaneba means sticky or gooey. This is another rare attack to be named at least partly in Japanese, rather than using English.

The attack is a conical web that Wormmon sprays from his mouth. Patamon's quick to counter it.

Patamon: AIR SHOT!!!

Patamon's Air Shot goes straight down the cone and beans Wormmon in the face, knocking him across the floor. Patamon flies in close to challenge him.

Patamon: You wanna fight? Wormmon: You're hurting Ken-chan!

Wormmon's spirit is willing, but Patamon's going to dribble him like a basketball. Just like PicoDevimon.

In the dub:

Wormmon: Oh no. STICKY NET!!! Patamon: BOOM BUBBLE!!! (Patamon knocks Wormmon around) Patamon: Wanna fight!? Wormmon: Actually, I'd prefer a staring contest.

The scene ends with closeups of Patamon and Wormmon staring each other down, building anticipation for their battle. Which the dub riffs on with that last line from Wormmon.

Topside, Nefertimon flies in at the last second to save Horusmon.

Nefertimon: HORUSMON!!!

She pushes him off the roof just before Chimeramon fires off another shot of Heat Viper. The beam blows straight through the base, ripping through the walls above where Takeru is....

At this point, it's not even a fight anymore. Ken's on his back and not even trying to defend himself anymore. He is thoroughly and utterly whipped.

But when that shot blows through, Takeru stops and looks up.

Takeru: Ah! What the--!?

Through the gaping hole in the wall, he finally lays eyes on Chimeramon outside.

Ken: That's Chimeramon, the Digimon I created. Isn't it incredible? Even if you all fight together, you still won't be a match for them.

Takeru has Ken in the palm of his hands. But now he has a decision to make.

In the dub:

Nefertimon: HALSEMON, LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!! (Nefertimon saves Halsemon; Kimeramon silently fires) T.K.: What's that thing!? (T.K. sees Kimeramon through the hole in the wall) Ken: Didn't I tell you? I have a new pet. Kimeramon! My secret weapon that's not a secret anymore. Don't worry if you didn't get a good look; You'll see him up close and personal real soon!

Takeru reacts to the sudden energy beam exploding through the wall, while T.K. reacts to Kimeramon himself before laying eyes on him.

Dub Ken rambles a bit. "My secret weapon that's not a secret anymore" is a Mojo Jojo-ass line. He also refers to Kimeramon as "my new pet" which again understates the relationship Ken thinks he has with this particular Digimon.

Chimeramon isn't just some mind-controlled minion; They're Ken's new Partner Digimon, the replacement for Wormmon. Dub Ken doesn't seem to have any particular reverence for Kimeramon whatsoever; Just another Digimon to add to the collection. Nothing special or meaningful in any way.

Outside, the fight is over. Chimeramon's got Nefertimon in their SkullGreymon hand and Horusmon in their Kuwagamon hand, and is crushing the life from both of them.

Patamon: Takeru! Takeru: Yeah. DIGIMENTAL UP!!!

Priorities. Without hesitation, Takeru gets up off of Ken and Armor Evolves Patamon to go join the fight.

Takeru: Ichijouji! Next time, we finish this!

With Takeru gone, Wormmon approaches Ken.

Wormmon: Ken-chan?

Battered and wincing in pain, Ken slowly sits up.

Ken: (weakly) Don't look at me.... Wormmon: Ken-chan....

Ken stands up and slowly withdraws into the depths of his base.

Outside, Pegasmon joins the fight. Between now and the last time we saw them, Horusmon and Nefertimon have been moved to Chimeramon's Devimon hands. Unclear if this is a consistency error or intentional decision on Chimeramon's part.

Pegasmon: SILVER BLAZE!!!

Pegasmon fires off two shots, hitting each of Chimeramon's wrists and forcing them to release Nefertimon and Horusmon. The pair join him in the air.

Nefertimon: Thank you, Takeru! Pegasmon! Takeru: Chimeramon isn't moving! Now's our chance to retreat!

At that, the team withdraws from the Kaiser's fortress.

In the dub:

Patamon: T.K.? T.K.: Mhm. DIGI-ARMOR ENERGIZE!!! (Pegasusmon evolves) T.K.: Hey, Ken! Remind me where we left off the next time I'm pummeling you into oblivion! Wormmon: Master? (Ken weakly sits up) Ken: ...I guess I'm not as cool as I think I am. Wormmon: Off day. Ken: Time for me to regroup and come back stronger than ever. (Up top, Pegasusmon frees Nefertimon and Halsemon) Pegasusmon: EQUUS BEAM!!! (The two join Pegasusmon in the air) Halsemon: Thanks, Pegasusmon. Pegasusmon: It was just a little... horseplay. T.K.: Kimeramon stopped moving! Let's take this opportunity to get out of here!

As usual, Dub Ken's a lot more willing to open up and engage with Wormmon. He even admits weakness to Wormmon. Original Ken basically tells Wormmon to fuck off and withdraws both physically and emotionally into the depths of his lair. He doesn't want to be seen in this state, battered and bruised after horribly losing a fight.

The team withdraws to the mobile island with the rescued prisoners. Which has, at some point, been joined by Daisuke's mobile island. Driving the islands back to land, they regroup.

Iori hands Takeru back his hat, which Iori apparently picked up off the ground after Takeru stormed off.

Iori: Here you go, Takeru-san. Takeru: Oh! Thank you. Daisuke: After all that... Dammit! V-mon: If only I could fly.... Daisuke: Don't say that! You and I have our own way to fight. V-mon: Yeah!

Took Yamato a whole character arc to come around to "Maybe you have your own unique strengths and don't have to be good at what someone else does" but Daisuke effortlessly cuts right through to it.

Daisuke: In any case, we'll rest for now and then we go after the Kaiser! Group: YEAH!!!

This isn't over yet.

And speaking of things that aren't over, Jun finally makes it to the lake! So... why does she seem so unhappy about it?

Jun: Uh... This place.... Mary: It's Hamanako! Jun: But I said Yamanakako! YAMATO-KUUUUUUN!!!

Hamanako is a lagoon about 3-4 hours' drive southwest of Odaiba. It didn't just take all day because of how slow Kenny drives, but also because they left her intended destination behind halfway down the highway.

In the dub:

Cody: Here's your hat back, T.K. I didn't want anyone to step on it. T.K.: That's okay, Cody. I have six others just like it. One for each day of the week! Davis: I'm ready to fight and all the action's over with! I wish we'd gotten here sooner! Veemon: The other Digimon can fly. Why can't I? Davis: Come on... You've got your own fighting skills. Like, that head of yours is as hard as mine! Veemon: Right! Davis: Anyway, let's hear it for T.S.! He really let Ken have it! Group: YEAH!!! T.K.: Uh, that's T.K.....

Lot of gags to lighten the mood after that brawl just now. Daisuke's promise that we aren't done here and are going to hit the Kaiser again tomorrow doesn't make it in. I feel like these episodes are trying really hard to make each piece seem like an isolated adventure rather than a multi-parter. This episode and the previous one cut a lot of cross-episode continuity.

Jun: Are we at the right campsite? Grandma: Guess they told you the wrong place. Jun: Why wouldn't Matt give me the right information? Could it be that he doesn't want me around? Grandpa: Ah, she's just as sharp as Davis. Narrator: What is the next step in the battle for control over the Digi-World? Tune in to the next Digimon: Digital Monsters!

Matt didn't give her any information. We saw their conversation and at no point, in either version, did he provide her with details of his destination. Jun had to find out either by forcing it out of Daisuke/Davis offscreen or exercising stalker fu.

Probably stalker fu.

In any case, they can't make the Hamanako/Yamanakako bit work here so someone lying to Jun and providing her incorrect details makes sense as a replacement gag. It just can't really be Matt directly.

Assessment: Takeru beating the shit out of Ken is one of the moments I've been eagerly anticipating, and it did not disappoint. Ken activated Takeru's Child Soldier mode and had regrets. He pushed the trauma button and then paid for it in teeth.

It's not just the physical beating, but the devastating verbal evisceration of the "Digimon Kaiser" as a concept. Ken's been thwarted and defeated and vanquished in battles before. But here, he was just beaten in a way he's never been beaten before.

A fitting way to herald the beginning of the end for the Digimon Kaiser.

And Wormmon. God, Wormmon. Ken-chan told him to his face that he's obsolete and he still tries with what meager strength he has to protect Ken from Takeru. Wormmon's loyalty and devotion even in the face of so much physical and emotional abuse is downright tragic.

Also, gotta give a shout out to Iori. Not just for prioritizing saving Digimon over blowing up the base, but also the hat. Despite the dub's flippancy about it, Iori picking up Takeru's hat and holding onto it for him is a small gesture that speaks to how considerate and thoughtful he is. Takeru throws his hat down in a fit of rage and Iori's reaction is, "He doesn't mean it. He's gonna want this back."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

We've only just begun (a Mon-el introspective? Idk dont ask me) (Rhea's wedding plans succeed)

Mon-el jolts from his misery when the door to his cell clicks open, and shoots to his feet when he sees Lena Luthor on the other side. He blinks in surprise.

"How...?"

Lena flashes an access key, apparently palmed from some soldier's gauntlet. Her smirk is flat and humorless. "You should really have a talk with your guards."

Mon-el scowls. "They're not *my*--"

"Whatever," comes the dismissive retort. "Coming?"

Mon-el is certainly not staying. But he's not about to let Lena Luthor take the lead, either. He overtakes her brisk pace in a jog, and though she huffs with derision, she thankfully doesn't protest. Kara's heroics have rubbed off on him enough to know that if Lena got hurt while he lagged behind... well. The less said about that, the better.

Mon-el manages to take out the few guards they run into on the way to the nearest transmat pad, but their disappearance is noticed just as Lena swipes the access key across the final sensor keeping them from their escape.

A siren blares, echoing in the empty corridor. Closing themselves in the transmat chamber is no better-- there the pulsing wail of the alarm presses close around them, even as Lena surges towards the control panel.

"Damn it!" she curses, fingers flying over the control board. "Shit!"

"They shut it down remotely?" Mon-el guesses correctly. Lena glares at the console. "We're trapped then."

"Maybe not!" Lena shouts over the klaxon. "If I can--"

The door opens behind them, admitting a squadron of guards who swiftly spill into the room. Mon-el smoothly disarms one, then floors another with a strike to his sternum. He knows all he can do to aid their escape is to buy Lena time--

Three guards pile on him at once, driving him to the ground. In moments he's restrained in manacles and pinned to the floor with a knee digging sharply into his back.

"Step back!" a guard barks at Lena, aggression plain in his posture.

Lena ignores him, jaw tight as she focuses on her task. In horror, Mon-el watches the guard level his staff weapon at Lena, preparing to fire.

"Step back!" the guard bellows again.

Again, Lena ignores him, even when the weapon at her back whines with a building electrical charge. Mon-el twists against the guard pinning him, to no avail. Finally, he sags.

"Lena," is all he says.

At the sound of his voice, Lena's fingers pause. Then her eyes close for a long moment, lips thinning into a tense line. Finally, she lifts her hands from the controls, and steps back.

In an instant, the guard seizes her by the arm and yanks her away. She gives a cry of pain as she stumbles, her bare feet scuffing against the floor.

"Careful!" Mon-el snaps, even as his own captors heave him to his feet. The guard flashes him a glare, which Mon-el meets with all the haughty authority he can muster. "The queen won't be pleased if you damage her."

The man scowls, but his grip relaxes ever so slightly. Mon-el meets Lena's eyes briefly, and finds a heady mix of irritation and despair staring back at him.

"Let's go!"

The guards march them from the room. Mon-el expects them to be escorted to the throne room, where his mother would chide them like children, but to his surprise, his escort turns back towards the cells. Lena's, however, turns the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Mon-el shouts, digging in his heels to try and maneuver back towards Lena. "Stop!"

"Mon-el!" Lena calls back, twisting desperately against the grip on her arm. She knows that separation would leave them both vulnerable. "Let me go!"

But no one listens. As the distance between them grows, Mon-el cranes his neck to look over his shoulder towards Lena, only to have his stop plummet when he sees her growing terror. Unable to do anything more, Mon-el draws on the only reassurance he has to offer.

"Supergirl will come!" he shouts to Lena, even as her captor turns them around the corner out of sight. "She's coming!"

---

Kara doesn't come. Not soon enough, anyway. He waits and hopes while he sits in his solitary cell, while he wonders if Lena was unharmed, when a pair of servants deliver a set of fresh finery to dress in.

"For your nuptials," sneers one of the two guards now posted at the cell door.

When he's dressed and finally escorted back to the throne room for the ceremony, Mon-el is relieved when Lena trails in just a few minutes later. She'd been given the same treatment, her dark gown traded for one of the richest red-- the color reserved for the very highest of rank. It is the color of Rao, and a symbol of his approval for the ceremony to come.

Lena seems defiant as she stalks towards the dais where Mon-el stands, but as Rhea commands the broadcast to begin and starts her speech, Mon-el feels Lena trembling beside him. He looks at her from the corner of his eye, and sensing his gaze, Lena looks back with apprehension in her eyes.

He hears Lena swallow thickly when Rhea orders them to face each other, and the fingers Mon-el takes in his own shake with the power of her thundering heartbeat. He wants to offer reassurance, but has none to give. This is happening, and nothing either of them can do will stop it.

A priest winds a silver ribbon around their joined hands, binding them together in the sight of Rao and his witnesses. As Rhea declares their marriage firm and final, Lena blinks, spilling a single tear down her cheek.

The broadcast ends, and Lena yanks her hands from Mon-el's the instant the ribbon is removed. She scrubs the tear away with the heel of one hand, swallowing again to steel herself as Rhea approaches.

"You performed beautifully, my dear," his mother says. She reaches out to brush Lena's cheek, who sharply pulls her head away from the touch. Rhea tsks. "Ah, well."

She turns to address them both. "I would have allowed you to spend your wedding night together, however after your little escapade, I don't trust that you won't cause trouble."

With a clap of her hands, the guards step forward once more, gripping them both tightly. Mon-el keeps his attention on Lena, watching as her gaze goes flat-- numb.

"I'm sorry," Mon-el says before Lena is dragged away, and he himself soon after. It echoes in his ears as they return him to his cell, and thunders in his head when his helplessness closes in around him.

I'm sorry.

----

Supergirl arrives a week later, after coordinating resistance against the Daxamite soldiers on the ground. When she arrives in the cell block where Mon-el waits, Kara's brow furrows in alarm.

"Where's Lena?" she demands.

"I don't know," Mon-el replies dully. "She may be in the royal wing, but I'm not--"

"Let's go."

Kara barely spares a moment to wrench the doors apart before marching away, and Mon-el is all too willing to follow. Backing Supergirl is something he can do-- now, he can finally help. He leads them to the most lavish of the court's chambers, correctly guessing that his mother had extended her the luxury of a high noble.

Within the chamber they find Lena, now changed from her red wedding gown to robes of deep purple. Between that and the way her hair is styled in the fashion of Daxam's courtiers, she looks every inch a Daxamite princess.

Lena turns from the window at their entrance. Her gaze bounces between them briefly. "Supergirl."

Kara is already closing the distance between them. Mon-el sees the way her arms lift to embrace Lena, only to redirect midway to grasp her friend by the shoulders.

"You're all right?" Supergirl asks.

Lena nods. "Yes, thank you."

Mon-el wonders if Kara can hear the distance in Lena's voice. If she does, she gives no indication as she shifts to the task at hand. "Let's get out of here."

Taking Lena by the hand, Kara guides them both from the chamber. With Supergirl as their escort, not a single guard can stop them: each one ends up crumpled at their feet, senseless or dead-- Mon-el isn't sure he wants to know which.

To his surprise, Lena slips her hand from Supergirl's after the second guard goes down, scooping up his sidearm as she follows the hero's path. The fact he hadn't thought to do the same pricks at Mon-el's pride, as does Supergirl's swift dispatch of any opponents they run into. But he keeps it to himself, aware that they are only this close to freedom because of Kara's help.

The alarms sound a few corridors away from the transmat room, and Lena's shoulders stiffen. "They'll have locked down the consoles," she says stiffly. "But if you can--"

"We don't need the consoles," Supergirl delivers with a smirk. She plucks a small fob from beneath the neck of her suit. "Different exit strategy."

At that, Lena's features spread into a conspiratorial grin, and for a moment Mon-el feels entirely out of place. Then Supergirl turns to him, nods, and cocks her head towards the end of the corridor.

"This way."

They make it to the far end of the ship without Lena having to fire a single shot. Reaching a deserted room, Kara guides them inside, then clicks the button on her fob just once. Instantly, the ship melts away, and the world coalesces around them once more into an entirely different scene.

Suddenly-- still-- attuned to Lena, Mon-el registers the moment Lena realizes where she is. Her eyes widen in surprise, scanning the icy fortress around her. In that scan, Lena's gaze lands on a tall, slender woman who must have activated the device to bring them home. In an instant, Lena's features shutter once more.

"Mother."

The woman saunters forward, and in her regal stature and haughtily bemused features, Mon-el sees his own mother. And just like with Rhea, Lena recoils when her mother reaches to touch her cheek.

The woman sighs at her reaction. "Even now, Lena?"

"Don't pretend you're here out of the goodness of your heart," Lena snaps.

"I'm here for you," her mother delivers firmly. "For my daughter."

"So you'll leave without me?"

At this, the woman frowns. "They are the reason this happened, they cannot be trusted!"

She reaches for her daughter's arm, only for Lena to wrench herself out of reach.

"*I* am the reason this happened, mother," Lena hisses. She glances guiltily towards where Kara has stiffened in surprise, but powers through. "*They* are the ones who will help me fix it."

"That's absolutely out of the question--"

"Your opinion means nothing." Lena bristles with obstinance, as though all the resistance she'd been unable to enact on the ship had found its outlet in this moment. "Now leave, so the rest of us can go home."

The woman scowls. "You're making a mistake."

"Not this time," comes Lena's firm reply, only for her mother to lift a knowing eyebrow.

"We'll see."

---

Once the woman leaves with her henchmen, Supergirl removes her cape to wrap it around Lena, whose thin gown offered little resistance to the Arctic cold. Lena accepts the gesture with a thin, shivering smile.

"Thank you."

Kara nods in reassurance. "Let's go home."

Outside a DEO helicopter waits for them with a pilot standing by. The trip feels long to Mon-el, spent in awkward silence seated between his girlfriend and his new wife.

Wife.

That means something to him, he finds. He watches Lena carefully throughout the ride, though she largely ignores him in favor of staring out the window. Supergirl, for her part, studies the both of them. The helicopter lands twenty miles from National City, not trusting the Daxamite fleet wouldn't shoot them from the sky on approach.

When they disembark, Mon-el sees Lena's look of surprise when he turns to help her down from the helicopter. But after that moment of hesitation, Lena accepts his assistance by placing her hand in his.

The last leg of their journey is spent in the back of an SUV, and Mon-el's shoulder brushes Lena's as they speed down the interstate. When the National City skyline comes into view, Lena stiffens at the columns of smoke still rising from the city. It looks like a scene from one Winn's movies, but it's not. It's real, and from the way Lena barely seems to breathe, the reality presses on her just as heavily.

They arrive at the alien bar with little fanfare. But even the quiet embraces Alex gives Kara and Winn gives Mon-el leaves Lena standing pointedly alone. Upon seeing Lena draw Supergirl's cape more securely around herself, Mon-el extricates himself from Winn's tight hug.

"Perhaps you have some clothes more comfortable?" he asks. Winn follows his gaze, seemingly only then noticing their final guest.

"Oh!" he chirps. "Yeah, of course! Hi, Miss Luthor."

Lena offers only the smallest upturn of her lips in gratitude. Her eyes flash to Mon-el, her features inscrutable in the barest of moments before she allows Winn to lead her inside. Mon-el almost follows, but lingers when Kara does. They finally embrace, and Mon-el releases some of the tension he'd been carrying with a sigh.

"Thank you," he murmurs quietly.

"I saw the broadcast," Kara says. When she pulls away, her face is creased with worry. "The wedding. Are... are you okay?"

Mon-el pauses, and realizes he doesn't quite know how to respond. For want of an answer, he deflects.

"Lena spent the most time with my mother," he says, half jokingly. "She's the one you should worry about."

Kara frowns, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "I can worry about you both."

"I'm fine." As he says the words, Mon-el can feel how untrue they are. He tries again. "I'll be fine when my people have left this planet for good."

Kara's gaze searches his, but thankfully doesn't push any further. "Now that we have you both back, we might stand a chance."

---

Their chance, as Mon-el had long suspected, is entirely Lena. When Mon-el follows the team to the DEO, Lena parts ways, heading for L-Corp. That she would go to her place of business instead of her home carries a meaning Mon-el can't quite define. Perhaps it is to Lena what the throne room is to his mother: a place of power, control... both of which Mon-el is certain Lena feels the need to regain.

Even so, he's relieved when she returns just a few hours later with a plan. His heart drops when he learns that plan is to poison Earth's atmosphere with lead, but when his gaze connects with Lena's, he finds no malice. If anything, she seems reluctant to offer the plan, clearly a last resort.

"We won't need it," Supergirl declares. She is sure of two things, where Mon-el is only certain of one: Supergirl may win the Dakam-ur, but Rhea will not honor it.

For the first time in his life, Mon-el wishes he'll be wrong.

He isn't.

---

Supergirl is the one to press the button, but it's Kara who says goodbye. Her eyes are full of tears, and even as he chokes on the air in his lungs, Mon-el wants nothing more than to wipe them away.

"I'm a better person, because of you," he coughs thickly. "Kara, please..."

"I'm sorry," she whispers hoarsely. "I'm so sorry."

Mon-el shakes his head. There's nothing to forgive. Instead, he has a request of his own.

"Take care of Lena."

Kara stares at him, confusion clouding her tear-filled gaze. "What?"

"She's going to need you," Mon-el gasps. "And you'll need her in return. Let her be what I couldn't."

"Mon-el..."

"Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her... I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to be the person she needed me to be. The person you both needed me to be." He wheezes painfully, every breath a thousand knives prickling his throat and lungs. "I should have stopped the wedding. You would have."

Kara shakes her head, but Mon-el knows. Had it been Supergirl in his shoes, she would have thought of some way to thwart the ceremony.

He should have thought to challenge his mother to the Dakam-ur himself, right there on that dais.

"Don't let Lena blame herself," Mon-el continues. "And don't blame yourself either. You made the right choice."

He doubts Kara believes him now, but in time, in the months or years it takes for the ache to fade, he knows she will. It is the right choice.

His final goodbye is a wave through the shuttles window as it lifts off the ground. Pre-programmed to exit Earth's orbit as swiftly as possible, he soon loses sight of Kara as the pod lifts through the atmosphere and into the dark of space.

In that void of expanse, Mon-el knows that whatever else, the two women he leaves behind will be fine. His wife and the love of his life will find their way through, together.

[camaro-and-smokes]

Here have some angst. I don't know where I'm going with this but it was inspired by Djo's cover version of Haim's 'Gasoline' and it was supposed to be porn but then Steve turned out to be too pissed off to tell Billy to come back to bed and...

- - -

"You shouldn't have taken me back." Billy said, blowing smoke out from the corner of his mouth, and watched it vanish through the open window above him.

Steve propped himself on his elbow on the bed and looked at his naked boyfriend sitting under the window, frowning. "Why?"

Billy wouldn't meet his eyes. He took another drag of his smoke. "I'll just break your heart again," he said quietly.

"No, you won't."

Billy did that thing he always did when he didn't believe Steve's words, a shrug and a pinched expression on his face. "What if I do?"

"Why would you?"

"Because I'm an asshole," he said with a tiny voice after a while.

Steve sat up and looked at his newly-back-taken boyfriend for a while, chewing his cheek. Suddenly, he wasn't entirely sure anymore if Billy had just wanted to fuck and was now going to bolt again or if he was going to stay.

Because it was true, Billy had been quite the asshole several times.

The latest of those being first breaking up with Steve at the bar and then shouting atrocities at him when he'd walked out shocked and hurting like hell. And then later, in that same bar, shamelessly kissing other guys right in front of Steve and then probably fucking them in the bathroom.

All this even though Billy had been the one to initiate the break up. It hadn't made sense to then - and it still didn't.

"What was it about?" Steve asked quietly.

Billy glanced at him, then stared his smoke that was turning into ash. As if he'd forgotten about it. "Don't know."

Anger flared inside Steve, this whole thing starting to feel the worse mistake he'd ever done so far. "The fuck you say you don't know? You're the one who broke up with me!" he snapped.

"Just...Felt right. Fuck! I don't know, Steve, okay?" Billy snapped back.

Steve bit his tongue. Yeah. This was a mistake. Massive. "Get out," he said flatly.

Billy wouldn't move.

"Get. The fuck. OUT!" Steve said more forcefully.

Billy's eyelids fluttered and tears fell on his cheeks as he sat as if frozen in place.

Steve knew him shouting at Billy, ever since they had started this thing, had always had more or less the same effect. Making Billy look small and terrified. Steve still didn't know why.

But right now he couldn't care less.

"What the fuck is your problem? My dick is so big that that you begged me to give you another chance just to get me to fuck you? For the old times sake? And now you say you'll just hurt me again and 'hey it's best if I go bye'. Fuck you! Fuck! You!" he spat." Get the fuck out!"

Billy said nothing as he got up, flinging the smoke out through the window, and gathered his clothes from the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then walked out, butt naked, leaving Steve to fume alone in his bed.

+ + +

Steve didn't see Billy for weeks afterwards. He'd hoped that Billy would at least try to explain but the longer he went without seeing him, the hope started to vanish.

Robin had given him an earful for giving Billy another chance to begin with. And she was right, maybe it was time to finally let go of Billy and truly move on.

Then one slow Monday evening, Billy appeared to Family Video.

Steve was alone managing the shop and he couldn't help but to roll his eyes when Billy walked in.

Billy selected a few movies from the shelves and approached the counter where Steve did his best to ignore him as long as possible.

Which was difficult. Billy had clearly put on some muscle, Steve could tell because the shirt Billy was wearing was one of the ones he'd had before Starcourt. Steve could see the shape of the muscles underneath the clothes like with x-ray vision, that well had Billy's body embedded itself to his mind. He had to remind him that that was past and that he shouldn't give Billy any more...

"I'm sorry. For everything," Billy blurted out the moment he set the empty VHS cases on the counter. "For fucking with your head, for leaving you, for rubbing it in your face. For the last time."

The words were exactly what Steve had wanted to hear. "So, you're sorry now, huh?" he spat as he started to ring the movies in. "Not weeks ago when we had just fucked?" The words were tumbling out and Steve just couldn't hold them back. "When I'd just said I'll give you another chance? You have a fucking nerve," he sneered.

Billy put his hands into the pockets of his jacket, looking small. "What do you want me to say then?"

Steve set the filled cases and the receipt on the counter and looked at Billy straight in the eyes. He felt a lurch in his stomach as the watery blues looking back begged for him to forgive, and all his heart wanted to do was just that - but his mind knew better. "It's not about what I want you to say. It's about you being honest and saying only what you mean. Like, really really mean," he said and tapped his own chest with his fingers so hard it hurt, "in here. But it's too late now. I gave you a chance and you blew it."

Billy looked at the cases on the counter as he swallowed and nodded, taking the cases and turned to leave. But after taking a few steps he came back, took a crumpled envelope from his pocket and set it on the counter.

Steve stared at it, biting his tongue, as Billy walked away. He was tempted to crush it into a tight ball and throw Billy with it. To emphasise he wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

And all the while there was nothing more he wanted than to run after Billy, to stop him, to tell him everything is forgiven.

Because Billy was everything Steve had, all he'd ever wanted.

[imallergictomyself]

Nikolai who grew up alone. Who grew up watching his parents argue, and then returned to doing his work without so much as a word. Who grew up not knowing his sibling’s birthday. Who grew up being away from home for hours, sometimes days, at a time, unquestioned.

Price who grew up too close too people. Who grew up having the sound of a belt cracking burnt into his mind. Who grew up perfectly orderly. Who grew up with little property, but too much memory. Who memorised every detail of the small space beneath his bed (before he ended up with just a mattress on the floor).

When they move in together, and Nikolai slips out of bed in the middle of the night for the first time, Price wakes up instantly. He’s tense, on guard, and stands quickly.

“Nik.”

“Hm?”

“Fuck’re you off to?”

Price tries to ignore the way he’s trembling somewhat. Chooses to ignore the fact that, if he focused enough, he was sure he could feel welts upon his back for disrupting him.

“I am going on walk.”

“Why’re you— don’t you— bloody hell. Why? At night? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Nikolai’s tense now, too. He makes his way closer to the door.

“No more questions. Just a short walk. I promise.”

He leaves quickly.

Price was left, feeling like he’d driven away the man. He was expecting shouting within a few moments. Nikolai had likely only gone off to get a belt; he’d be back soon. It wasn’t worth running.

Nikolai was just confused. Why didn’t the other believe him? Why did he even get up? Or question him? He felt like he had done something wrong.

Nikolai sat down against the door, hitting his shoulder lightly against the handle before crouching down properly.

Price winced at the sound of his hand on the door, knowing Nikolai was clearly only a few seconds from opening it and screaming at him for interrupting, like he deserved.

He wasn’t sure what overtook him, but when the door opened he was halfway out of the window, breathing panicked like he did at 15.

Nikolai opened the door at the sound of a crash to see the love of his life fleeing him. Probably running to find him down the street. After a few moments, he mustered the energy to shout after him, in an attempt to reassure.

The other man only ran faster at the sound. It was angry, tense, and everything he remembered from his father.

[writinginatree]

Together 2

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/Reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson

Summary: Bodhi and you cross the parapet, and you finally get to meet his cousin.

Part 1

In the end, you do tell your parents about your intention to join the Riders Quadrant. You just can't leave without saying goodbye, no matter how tempting it is.

Their reaction is about as bad as you expected, angry shouts still ringing in your ears as you slip out of the house. You refuse to let it get you down. Rage as they might, they can't stop you. Your pack is already stored safe under Bodhi's bed; you'll sleep there with him like you've done so many times, and in the morning, you'll turn your backs on this town for good.

It will be a year before you'll be allowed to write or receive letters, and by then, your parents will hopefully have calmed down. If they're still mad after that long — well, fuck 'em. As long as you have Bodhi, you don't need anyone else.

The staircase with it's lack of railing is too narrow to stand next to each other, so Bodhi goes first. You hold hands the whole way up, dreading the moment you'll have to let go. If crossing the Parapet holding hands were possible, you would, but alas, you'll have to content yourselves with crossing one after the other.

"Nervous?" Bodhi whispers, turning around to face you as you wait in line.

"A little."

"Your balance is great," he reassures you. "Just do it like we practiced and you'll be fine."

"Oh, I meant about meeting your family once we're inside," you joke. "I'm not worried about the balance beam of death. Like, at all."

"Right." Bodhi cracks a smile, but it's a bit strained. He's nervous too, even if he doesn't show it. "Well, you don't need to worry about that, either. I told you, they'll adore you."

The line moves up, and Bodhi takes the next stair backwards so he can keep looking at you.

Standing still again, he pulls you into a hug. One stair above you, he's tall enough to rest his chin on top of your head, a fact he takes full advantage of.

You rest your head against his chest, basking in this moment of peace before you step into the unknown. His heartbeat is fast against your ear, almost in sync with your own, a steady drum filling you with strength.

"You're not getting second thoughts, are you?" Bodhi mumbles after a few seconds.

"Never. I'll go anywhere with you, no matter how dangerous or scary."

"Good. Because if you turned back now, I'd probably follow you, and then we would have a problem."

After giving his name to the rider on top the turret, Bodhi turns to kiss you. You ignore the snickers and stares from riders and other candidates alike, used to the fact that he can never separate from you — even for just a couple minutes — without a kiss. You wouldn't have it any differently.

"See you on the other side."

Before you can do more than nod, he already turns and steps out onto the parapet.

Irrational fear makes it hard to breathe as you watch him. It comes as a relief when, once he's made it a third of the way, it's your turn to follow. Spreading your arms for balance, you walk out over the ravine with small, measured steps, keeping your eyes on Bodhi's distant form to avoid looking down.

Glancing back over his shoulder to see you behind him, he slows down so you can catch up to him, and you reach the other side with only a few steps separating you. The second your feet hit the courtyard, Bodhi's hand is back in yours.

You grin at each other.

"That wasn't so bad."

You huff a laugh. "No, but I'm still glad we only have to do it once."

Stepping away from the opening in the wall, Bodhi's eyes scan the crowd of older cadets. Searching for familiar faces, no doubt.

You feel him trembling with nerves, every second that passes without catching sight of his cousin or friends making him more anxious. Your own heart races in sympathy, hand squeezing his as your gaze darts around too, hoping to catch sight of someone with a rebellion relic.

Just when you start to fear the tension will tear Bodhi apart, a fierce looking man with a relic that reaches all the way up his neck emerges from the crowd, striding toward to two of you with purpose. Though you've never seen him before, it's not hard to guess who he is: Bodhi's cousin — Xaden Riorson. He's a little taller than Bodhi, the angles of his face sharper and his hair straighter, but the small differences between them only emphasize how similar they look overall. If you didn't know better, you might have thought them brothers.

Bodhi lets out a heavy breath of relief, tugging you forward to meet the older boy halfway.

The cousin's stoic expression cracks for a second when he puts a hand on Bodhi's shoulder in greeting, fondness flashing on his face before he quickly masks it again. There's no room for softness in this hostile environment for the marked ones, it seems.

Bodhi must know it, too. He looks a little disappointed at not getting a hug, but silently accepts the unspoken boundary.

He'd briefly dropped your hand to greet Xaden, but now he takes it again, tugging you close to his side as he introduces you to his cousin.

Xaden's gaze turns calculating when it falls on you, studying you with such intensity your scalp tingles. It feels like he's trying to look through you. You half expect a What are your intentions with my little cousin-speech, but it doesn't come.

"Nice to meet you," you venture to say when he doesn't say anything.

"You too," he stiffly replies after a moment of hesitation, looking like he doesn't think it's nice at all.

You don't take it personally. After all, Bodhi had warned you in advance that his cousin isn't much of a people person. And if you were in his shoes, you probably would distrust anyone you don't know, either. You appreciate that at least he's not being outright hostile.

After a moment of awkward silence, Xaden addresses Bodhi again. "I already made sure you'll be put in my squad—"

"Both of us," Bodhi interrupts. "Put both of us in your squad. Please."

His cousin looks like he wants to argue, but Bodhi puts on that pout you can never say no to, and clearly, Xaden isn't immune to it either.

"Fine," he sighs. "I'll see what I can do. But I hope you two realize that there's no time for romance if you want to survive in this place. We're preparing for war, not going on a picnic trip."

Bodhi barely keeps from rolling his eyes. "Yes, Xaden. We know. We've prepared for this."

You nod, even as you can't help but wonder if you really are prepared well enough to make it here. You don't know what it's actually like living in this place, but Xaden is making it sound like it'll be harder than whatever you've imagined.

Bodhi has been preparing for this for years, so he'll be fine, but while you did sometimes join him for sparring and agility exercises, that had only been for fun. You hadn't taken it seriously until mere weeks ago, when you'd started thinking about coming with him. Now you worry if you'll be able to keep up with the other cadets, most of whom have probably been training to join the quadrant since they were kids. That class you've heard about where cadets have to fight each other will certainly be... interesting.

"Good. I'd hate for you to get yourself killed because you're distracted," Xaden says with a pointed glance at you.

Bodhi lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist instead, pulling you even closer, as if you weren't standing shoulder against shoulder already.

His cousin's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything else, clearly getting the message — no criticizing your relationship, at least not in front of you. That's more kindness than your parents have shown Bodhi, always nagging about their distaste for him as if he couldn't hear whenever you brought him over.

Before Xaden can turn away to see to the squad arrangement, Bodhi asks, "Hey, is Garrick—"

"He's fine. On watch duty right now, but I'm sure he'll come say hi later."

Pressed against Bodhi as you are, you feel the breath of relief he lets out. "Good. I'm really fucking glad you guys are okay, Xaden."

Xaden allows himself a brief smile and claps Bodhi on the shoulder, muttering something in Tyrrish that you don't understand. Switching back to the common language, he adds, "I'll catch you up on the last year later. In the meantime, keep your head down and don't die."

"Alright. I can do that."

Xaden nods and walks off, toward some other older cadets.

When you're sure he's out of earshot, you turn to Bodhi and say, only half-joking, "You didn't mention how intimidating he is when you told me about him."

"He can be nice when he wants to," Bodhi assures you with a wistful smile. "But he's certainly hardened in the last year."

For a few minutes you stand in silence, watching as more new cadets step off the parapet. Your unease grows with every person you see. They all look stronger, better prepared than you. You don't regret coming here — you meant it when you told Bodhi you'll happily follow him wherever — but you're starting to think you underestimated how much of a challenge survival in the Riders Quadrant will be.

Bodhi nudges you. "What's on your mind?"

"Just... realizing this might be harder than I thought. I was so focused on not wanting to be separated from you I never considered having me here could be a hindrance."

Bodhi frowns, and you automatically lean in to kiss away the crease between his brows.

"Nonsense," he says when you pull back, still frowning. "This is about what Xaden said, isn't it?"

"Partly. I guess I'm just worried I won't be able to keep up 'cause I haven't been training for this nearly as long as you and everyone else."

The frown deepens. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know," you say, taking his hand. "But that's the thing. You shouldn't have to look out for me on top of handling yourself. If I can't hold my own I'll distract you, just like Xaden said."

"Oh, fuck that. He was just being an ass. We're a team, baby. If you need help with something, I'll help you, and if I need help, you'll help me. Don't give me that look — when it comes to academics there's definitely some classes where you'll do better than me, and you know it. Besides, you're not as bad a fighter as you think you are. A little extra practice and you'll keep up just fine."

"Are you sure? I just—" You sigh. "I don't want to drag you down."

You don't notice you've been chewing your lip until Bodhi lifts the hand not holding yours to your mouth and smoothes his thumb over it to make you stop.

"You won't," he says. "We can do this. Together, just like we planned."

You nod, breathing more easily. He's right. That was the whole point of this — to face the dangers of the Riders Quadrant together. You could have chosen an easier path, joined another quadrant and contented yourself with only seeing him occasionally, but you didn't. All or nothing, you'd said, and you stand by that. It won't be easy, but it'll be worth it. Bodhi is worth it.

"Okay. Thanks, Bodhi. For never getting annoyed at my stupid anxiety."

He smiles and pecks your lips. "No need to thank me. I get it. And I'll always reassure you however much you need."

[edb954]

Worst Fear (Dark Coriolanus snow x reader)

~~~~

(Summary: After you leave Coriolanus after the last straw you had you take your son and the rebels attack and kidnap your son.)

Masterlist : Request Info

Word Count:1.3k

(Warnings: kidnapping, Dark! Coriolanus, a bit messed up at the end, angst!, Lucy Gray mentioned, cheating, manipulating, murder, NOT Fully proffread. Think that’s if?)

~~~~

  It was a beautiful spring day in the capital so you decided to take Cassian and go look at the little out door market. It's been a little over a month since you left Coriolanus.. or was trying to leave. He hasn't left you alone and his peacekeepers always not that far from you. Tracking you with every step.

  The one time you had lunch with your friend from the Academy Flint and not long after you got back from said lunch who was at your apartment threatening you. Then a few days later he was announced dead. You felt absolutely sick that the man you’d once loved and trusted did this.

  You maybe wondering why Y/n had left him. Well the secrets, the lies. What he was doing to others... You didn't trust him. Especially after you had found Lucy Grays Earring. You always had your suspicions but it wasn't until you found the earring and a song that she had wrote just for him. That was the last straw. After that you had packed your and Cassians things when Coriolanus was working but before you left you made sure to put the items on his desk waiting for him like Lucy Grays ghost that has been haunting him. Maybe it was ignorant but you could've honestly cared less. You weren't going to live in something that had a ghost... something that was a lie...

"Mama look!" Cassian shouted tugging the hem of your dress snapping you out of your thoughts as he pointed over to a stall in the market that was selling to no surprise flowers. "Can we please go look at them."

"Of course my love. Just let me pay for this and we will." Y/n said smiling down at her son, Cassian huffed before wondering off around the other side of the stall they were currently at.

"Alright Cassia-" Y/n started but froze not seeing him. She then looked over at the flower stall to see him nowhere.

"Cassian!" She called out looking around the stalls.

"Excuse me have you seen my son Cassian? He was wearing a little brown coat?." Y/n asked a lady passing by. She hesitantly shook her head.

"Cassian!" Y/n yelled. Her throat tightening up as she was realising the horror of the situation. Her hand went over her mouth as she let out a sob.

"Mrs.Snow?" A peacekeeper asked. Emme looked up with tears in her eyes.

"I-it's Cassian.." She grabbed on to his arms as she shook he gave her a concerned look. "Madam-" "Cassians missing.. I-I think h-he's been kidnapped."

The peacekeeper straightened before going over to a group of other peacekeepers notifying them telling one to tell Snow and one to be there for her as the rest and more look for him.

A few moments later, Coriolanus showed up in a mad dash mode going straight to you and taking you home so you would be safe and nothing would happen to you. Where a peacekeeper awaited to get more information.

"Okay, where gonna need a description of what he was wearing." A peacekeeper asked. Y/n let out a shaky sigh.

"He was wearing a little brown coat with a white shirt and tailored jeans with stitching on them. And black shoes." Y/n said shaking as her voice broke.

The peacekeeper gave her a sad look before nodding and paging the others telling them the description and to fan out. As the peacekeeper and Coriolanus turned back she was gone.

Y/n found herself in Cassians room with her heart in hand. Thinking maybe if she'd stay.. he would be here.. he would be home.

Coriolanus came into his son's room. Where he found you sitting on Cassian's bed holding his favorite stuffed animal.

"They're still looking for him." Coriolanus

"You should've been there..to protect him.." Y/n whispered, Coriolanus looked at you.

"You should've been there... and I shouldn't have left.." She said tears streaming down her face. Coriolanus tried to reached out to her.

She moved away bringing the stuffed animal to her chest. Coriolanus reached out again bringing her into an embrace as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I-I can't lose him.. he's all I have left.." Y/n said pulling back slightly only for him to pull her back into the embrace.

"You're not going to lose him. I promise. We- I will find him." Coriolanus vowed.

"Sir." Coriolanus looked up to see one of the peacekeepers. He nodded to him.

"I have to go talk with them.." Coriolanus murmured to you. You sniffed before pulling away but he grabbed your hand. "Come with me.." he whispered.

  You nodded an okay not wanting to be alone. Taking his hand making your way to his office.

"Mama!" You heard a yell. Y/n looked over to see Cassian letting go of Coriolanus's hand. "Baby."

She let out a cry of relief as she ran over to her son and picking him up. Holding him close to her chest and placing a kiss on his forehead. Tears falling down her face as she thanked the heavens that he was safe and sound.

Coriolanus, told the peacekeepers to bring the one that took him to the ward and kill the others. They nodded and left to do their duty.

Y/n turned around feeling Coriolanus's presence and turned around to his embrace. His arms immediately wrapping around her and kissing the top of her head.

"I-I'm so sorry. What happened to you?" Y/n said/asked between sobs.

"It's okay.. everything's okay now.." Coriolanus said kissing your hair as he held you both close.

  It wasn't long before Cassian fell asleep in your arms exhausted from the day but finally safe in his mother's arms.

"I'll have one of the staff send for your stuff to bring it back home." Coriolanus said, you nodded to exhausted and shook up to answer. "Hey look at me." You sighed tears slipping out as you looked at him.

"He's okay. He's safe. Your safe. I will make sure this NEVER happens to any of you again. Okay? I promise" Coriolanus assured, y/n nodded as silent tears fell. He gave you kiss on your head.

"Why don't you both go to bed. I'll be there in a minute." Coriolanus said. She gave a look. "I promise." She sighed to exhausted to argue or stay as she held Cassian in her arms and leaving to the bedroom.

~~~~

"I told you to scare her. NOT to take my child from her-from US." Coriolanus seethed at the ragged man who he had hired to scare you so you would come back to him.

"I did what you asked me to do." He said in pain from the whips from the peacekeepers.

"No." The man looked at him in horror as his tone turned even more darker and sinister like.

"No you didn't. You touched what's mine. You don't touch what's mine. Not my girl and certainly NOT my child." Coriolanus seethed. Turning to the peacekeepers.

  "Make sure he pays for what he's done and make sure he's NEVER seen agin." He ordered, the peacekeepers bowed their heads understanding what he exactly meant as Coriolanus left the last thing heard before the door shut was a loud curdling scream.

~~~~

  He made his way to the their bedroom to see

y/n  laying on her side with Cassian asleep next to her and her arms wrapped around him holding him close. Coriolanus went up to her sleeping form his finger brushing against her cheek.

"I told you before I'd never let you go.. and I'm never having you leave again.."  He whispered before bending down placing a kiss on her forehead and taking a whiff of her hair. Before discarding his day outfit leaving him in nothing but his boxers and lose white tank top. Slipping into the bed finally having his wife and child back. Never planing on let them escape his grasp again..

[depressed-bitch-80]

Not So Secret Anymore

Chapter 1

Word count: 522

Pairings: BBC!Sherlock x Reader

Summary: John is trying to enjoy a peaceful day at 221B when a mystery woman shows up and says she’s Sherlock’s wife.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction in 7 years. This chapter is pretty short but the next ones will be longer!

Ao3 link, Chapter 2

It was a chilly winter afternoon as John settled into his chair for a cup of tea. He wondered mindlessly about what trivial matters such as, where in the world Sherlock had gone off to. Then again, he thought, maybe the matter of Sherlock’s location isn’t such a trivial matter seeing as the man can wind up in awfully precarious situations the minute John takes his eye off him.

Just as he’s about to pull out his mobile and send Sherlock a “where the bloody hell are you” text, he hears the front door open.

“Sherlock is that you?” He shouts in the direction of the stairwell. There’s no reply but he hears footsteps gently ascending the seventeen steps to the flat.

“Ah so he’s not here” a feminine voice speaks from the doorway.

“No he’s not. I’m sorry did he schedule a meeting? I’ve told him numerous times to check his calendar before he runs out.”

“He’s not expecting me” she says surely.

“Walk-in client then. I don’t know when he’ll be back but I can get you a cuppa and you could tell me a little bit about what’s going on. John Watson by the way.” He offers his hand to shake. She takes it gracefully and replies.

“I know who you are, Dr. Watson. I wouldn’t mind a bit of tea.” He leads her to the kitchen chair they had set up in the lounge for clients. With the kettle barely cooled from his previous use, he pours her a cup.

Finally settling into his armchair and picking up his own forgotten tea from the side table, he starts the preliminary questioning.

“What can we help you with?”

“Well you see Dr. Watson, I have this husband who runs around London at all hours with his blogger so it appears he never has time to call me when I’m away on business”

The woman using his self title took John back a bit but nevertheless he continued on. “Do you believe he’s cheating?”

“Oh god no. He’s not great with social norms and emotional cues but I know he would never break a vow.”

“Then pardon the bluntness but, what are you here for?”

She looked at him pointedly. “To find out what has had my husband so busy these past few months”

Something was nagging in his stomach about this woman, particularly about the way she described her husband. “Right…I cannot guarantee that Sherlock will take your case but I can have him take a look at it.”

She looked almost amused at this. “I would be honored”

At that she got up to leave with John following close behind to escort her out. Just as she was about to cross the threshold, John realized he forgot to write down a crucial piece of information. “What did you say your name was again?”

She turned and with a sly smile said “I didn’t, but you can call me Y/N. Y/N Holmes”

Before John could pick his jaw off the floor she was down the stairs and out the front door. He was going to kill Sherlock.