#accidentally spent. quite a bit of time checking out all the different functions

[theshadowrealmitself]

Bought myself a lil galaxy projector thing and. This is the best. I wanna cry. How tf have I gone my entire life without being able to project stars on the ceiling whenever I want??

[lilyblackdrawside]

Cleared Final Fantasy Renaissance. It was fun. I floated through the Temple of Fiends, had like two regular enemy encounters, accidentally skipped the Tiamat rematch (by floating over her) and double-nuked CHAOS for 1268x2 damage.

Overall, this was still FF1. You still deal with spiked tiles, annoying paralyzing, poisoning, petrifying and death-touching enemies in the first half of the game and it getting much easier in the second half.

Generic quality of life improvements were kinda just that you can hold B to run, but some of the new jobs just break the game.

More in depth stuff under the cut, it got a bit long.

My party was Lancer/Dragoon, Bard/Troubadour, Time Mage/Wizard and Black Mage/Wizard.

Black Mage is still just Black Mage. The funny robe who casts the big spells and kinda does nothing for the first third of the game. It does have a Trait that "boosts accuracy of damaging magic and reduces the chance of it being resisted for reduced damage". I don't think I noticed much of this? Elementally resistant enemies still took reduced damage (I think) and it's not like damaging magic can miss. Maybe it just raises the damage floor. When promoted to Black Wizard the only new difference is the "Elemental Seal" active skill, which maximizes the damage of the next spell. With my party, this was just to flex. I could have my Time Wizard cast Gain (doubles damage of the target's next spell), Black Wizard use Elemental Seal and Troubadour use the +30% magic damage song Turn 1, then follow that up with Time Wizard's "Double Cast" skill (makes the target cast its next spell twice, placing this buff always goes first in a turn) and follow that up with whatever spell I find the most suited in that situation (Nuke) to deal doubled, maximized damage twice. The "next spell" buffs of Gain and Elemental Seal stick for both casts. Tiamat failed to survive a single maxidoubled Nuke, CHAOS did require both. Black Wizard's Limit Break lets it cast spells without using charges for 3 turns. I never used this. I might've, had I gone with a different party.

Lancer is a fairly standard Fighter-type job on the surface. Wears heavy armor, gets high health, hits enemies for big damage with big weapon. There aren't quite as many lances as there are swords in the game, so you go through a couple stretches of using an outdated weapon and it also is kinda terrible at soaking up damage on account of spending a lot of time being untargetable. But it did end up working out quite well, because on promoting to Dragoon, you get Super Jump, which hits all enemies and after running some errands (killing 100 enemies with jump for a dragon that's scared of you for being a Dragoon) you get funny shoes that make Jump always go first in a turn so at that point the Dragoon becomes the ideal trash clearer. Turn 1 use Super Jump, double EXP song, some control magic with the Wizards, Turn 2 win. Repeat until you get to the boss and Nuke it. Dragoon was a good fit for the party, as I could just not jump for boss fights and have an adequate tank for my three squishies. Dragoon's Limit Break executes an immediate Super Jump(?) (It just jumps) and ignores "Fatigue" for three turns (Jump gives 1 turn of fatigue, Super gives 2 and while fatigued you can't jump). I just used this a few times to check it out.

Bard was pretty nice out the gate, cause in Coneria you get a song that gives the whole party 8 absorb, which until like the Earth Cave makes you functionally untouchable. Very handy. I had considered picking I think Green Mage or one of the other new Mages that gets healing magic apparently, I don't remember which, but noticed just in time that that would leave me with a party of three casters and a Lancer, so very frail (and I hadn't even thought about Lancer not being a good tank itself at that point) so I figured I'd pick Bard cause surely Bard is a bit tankier than the mages. No, Bard has the same bad hp and wears the exact same flimsy armor. Worked out anyway, spent the whole game in Slot 2 of the party and rarely died. Somehow. Eventually, my default song changed from the +Absorb to one that heals party members for 5% hp whenever they take a turn. This was all my healing for the whole game and it was just enough. Still drank a ton of potions outside of battle. Other notable songs are one that raises Morale and Luck to make escpaing easier and increase the odds of enemies running away, got a lot of milage out of that one, the one that gives +30% magic damage and the 8th song, which doubles EXP. Also the 2nd song in the list, which gives +8 Attack to the party which I got as my third to last because the one broom I didn't talk to in Matoya's home held a fragment of it. I didn't use it much, (because I didn't have it for most of the game) but it is memorable. The whole list of songs is: +8 absorb, +8 attack, 5% heal/action, +12 Morale/Luck, +30% magic damage, +100% magic defense, +15% crit, +100% exp. Oh yeah, the way you get songs is by talking to townspeople with the Bard in the lead to gather inspiration.

Bard also uses Harps as weapon, which hit the whole enemy party (for 1 damage 99% of the time). This isn't generally useful, even though I had a synergy with Time Mage here that allowed this to deal semi-meaningful damage. My Bard spent 99% of the game just singing. I also think there is a bit of a bug with how songs work. Bard has 1 global spell charge and can use Hide to refresh it. At the start of turn you can choose to Sustain or pick a New action, Sustain keeps the current song or hide, New lets you do something else. Hiding also refreshes the song charge. You can cast a song, hide, cast a new song and the old one is still active. as Troubadour you get 2 charges, so it's a bit smoother. In this way you can layer several songs and get a bunch of buffs, but the Troubadour's Limit Break lets you immediately play another song while keeping the effects of an old song active. I've used this a couple times but it never seemed any different to just playing a new song how I had been doing it the entire time. You can have up to 4 song effects active at a time, it seems. Bard was a good choice for my team as kind of the defensive anchor. The +8 absorb 5% heals did a lot to keep health relatively high and cut down a bit on potion use and later on I did funny magic amplifications.

Time Mage was the dark horse of this party. I picked it cause FAST is good (I never used FAST) and because I like Time Mage in FF5. For the first two thirds of the game, Time Mage is pretty fine. You get some generic Time-elemental damage spells on the lower tiers, the Gain buff on Tier 1 (that's the one that doubles magic damage), some control debuffs, two "Mark" spells, which just lifts the Mark mechanic from Slay the Spire's The Watcher. Those were pretty decent as supplemental aoe damage for a while. Time Mage also has access to "Egress", which is an active skill that just restarts the battle. There's no cost to this, just do it. I forgot I had this until I job changed. Thought it was going to be a spell, oopsie. Could've been nice here and there in the Marsh Cave. Time Mage also resists Time elemental magic innately, such as Slow, Sleep and Paralysis. This is quite handy, especially considering that the Ribbon doesn't resist Time and so you're completely protected.

Then the Tier 4 spells is where Time Mage starts getting dubious. On Tier 4 I gave my Time Mage Float, Fast and Old (debuffs a target to make it lose 20% strength per turn). I only used one of these ever and it wasn't Fast. Float seems very inocuous when you read it: "The party floats above the ground and shallow water for a short period of time, avoiding enemy counters as well as damage from trap tiles." So you can use this to not encounter enemies for a bit (it really doesn't last very long) and can walk through something like Gurgu Volcano's fire tiles without taking damage. Neat. This also bypasses forced encounter tiles. The funny Cloth chest in Ice Cave that has a tile with 4 "definitely not Astos" in front of it? I didn't fight those. Tiamat rematch in Temple of Fiends? Well, I already mentioned that I accidentally skipped that. I fought the Ice Cave's EYE purely out of courtesy. This spell mildly breaks the game, but by itself I wouldn't call it out of line or anything.

Tier 5 gets you Warp, and this is still just Warp. Very handy and together with Float makes getting out of dungeons a lot more comfortable. Warp is fine, Black Wizard also gets it.

After job change, Tier 6 magic gets you "TELE": "Teleports the party to one of a select number of locations. [Can be used if there are 0/1 or more spell charges.]

This teleports you to "Inn" (Coneria) "Ship" (your ship) or "Airship" (guess what). From anywhere. So if a dungeon is going kinda bad, as long as your Time Mage is alive, you can dip. Well, you can also dip when your Time Mage is dead. Just flail the corpse around a bit and you can still TELE, I guess. I do know why it's castable without spell charges. You could softlock yourself if you couldn't, by utilizing the following ability:

"Set Telepoint": With this you can place a new TELE target anywhere, except for inside rooms in dungeons. With this you can just take a short break from dungeon diving, refresh, save and go right back. Together with Float, you can just never fight any enemies again ever, if you want. And this could also get you stuck if you set the telepoint on some island, leave with your (air)ship, then TELE there with no charges left and the use a Tent to save.

I didn't even buy another Tier 6 spell. I did buy some higher tier spells, but only used the Tier 8 Meteor once to check it out. It was fine. On Tier 7 you get a spell that refreshes all spell charges of the target but can't cast on yourself. What is this for? You have unlimited Inn access from anywhere and when are you going to use all of your spell charges in one fight anyway. Time Wizard's Limit Break is "Time Compression", which is a very cute reference. It lets the Time Wizard take 3 turns. I never used this. I meant to, but forgot. On the note of cute references, the Bard has a trait called "Spooniness: Is very spoony.".

So I somehow accidentally stumbled into the perfect support duo for my Black Mage in Bard and Time Mage and also what is probably definitely the most busted job for convenience in the game in Time Mage. Very fun!

I can't say anything about the other jobs. I did unlock NG+, which features stronger monsters and starts you with promoted jobs, so I might check out some of them. Green Mage looked neat, might even do Blue Mage, won't touch Summoner out of principle.

Had a good time with this.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

-

You woke up slowly. 

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 

Wait… 

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check. 

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man. 

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

... 

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze. 

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body. 

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on. 

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

-

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course. 

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome. 

-

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

-

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

-

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

-

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

-

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality. 

A certain quality of... of... 

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 

Sigh. 

-

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 

The reply was instant. 

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 

Your jaw dropped. 

You dropped your phone. 

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 

This is just an ad? 

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 

At a very specific number. 

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh. 

-

You sneezed. 

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait. 

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 

Whoa. 

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 

Oh. 

Oh??? 

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 

Yoongi was right next to you. 

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[fieryhonesty]

The life of You

[AO3]

“This is funny I never planned this become multi chapter. Was meant only as chaptered oneshot (time to make a masterlist, huh) what can I promise you: this series will always have the banner where only name of specific chapters changes”

Words: 2479

Warning(s): rated this as mature on AO3 just cause it might turn whatever direction in future (I say might, not will 😳), already has swearing in and might get more (depends on situation I put characters in, we don’t swear without reason, right?), maybe suggestive innuendos

Perhaps you could have expected journeying with your ever so flirty friend would turn into one wild ride. Especially if the destination was Stormterror’s lair. As Dvalin was freed and the area is now accessible. The place piqued the curiosity of many. When Frostblade approached you if you were fancy to tag along. You were quite surprised as he didn’t seem like somebody who deliberately enjoys adventuring.

However after sharing his reason you quickly understood. Fatui started being active, the ones within city walls were seen in small groups. Debating about the honorary knight, no how people of Mondstadt were able to drive Stormterror away. They were scheming something, that’s for sure.

Maybe it hurt their imaginary pride or perhaps they had their own plans. Whatever it is, Kaeya wanted to be one step ahead. Seeing what was behind the wind barrier for so long was a good start. And who knows. Maybe he will be able to screw over Fatui plans. 

Well that’s it if the area was not overly complicated. The ruins you had to explore first in order to get further into the lair were quite complicated. But the problem was you accidentally activated a trap and now each of you were standing at different sides of the bars which nearly skewered you.

Staring with wide eyes at the bars which were just a few inches away from your face. One step more and you would be goner. Gulping loudly. “Too close to my comfort.”

“Oh? And if it were me?” Letting out a sigh and shaking your head in disapproval. “Then I’d reconsider if giving you frostbite would be punishment enough. Anyway I’ll backtrack and try to find another way.”

---

More than you finding another way, the another way has found you. During your exploration you came across a ruin guard. Its eye light up in dangerous demeanor. If one thing could go wrong then it was probably meeting up with this walking hunk of steel. Corridors were too narrow for fighting. 

You decided to run away from it, hoping it will either lose sight of you or get stuck somewhere. You had no idea where the hell you were running. But managed to end up in a dead end. However you noticed the wall was in a bad shape, feeling wind blowing between the bricks. 

Charging elemental energy in your sword and hurling it forward, creating a hole. Big enough for you to get out. Finally getting out and breathing fresh air, your hair were ruffled by the blowing wind. Such a nice change after all that time spent in ruins where it smelled like- well mold and dust. 

The noise of falling debris behind brought you back to reality. The ruin guard was making its way out. Following the intruder no matter what. Such a persistent thing. But at least now you can fight. Air got extremely cold as you summoned several cryo blades and dashed towards the machine. It tried to hit you but it’s too huge and slow to land a hit on you. Rolling to the side or jumping a bit back to avoid any kind of danger. No matter how much it tried, you were faster. Slashing here and there. Your attacks might not do much but there's way too many of them. Even the sturdy material those things are made off will slowly fall apart. Leaving the more vulnerable parts exposed. Nothing can work in such cold temperature as you were attacking it with.

Cutting one of its arms off. As it fell down, dust rose up. How heavy are those things? You better never find out. Sliding between its legs, leaving a thin slippery surface behind you, hoping it will slip and fall down. However the ice crushed under its weight. Well it was a good try?

Noticing how it turned around and kneeled. You had seen this once. Dashing behind a pillar and praying it will withstand the rockets. When you were sure no more explosives were coming your way. Jumping out of the hiding spot and seeing the Captain of Cavalry was having its attention. When did he get there?

You had exploited this situation and aimed one of the cryo blades at its weak spot on back which caused it to flinch. Kaeya didn’t waste any moment and used his own elemental power to hit its front eye, causing it to shut down. The damage caused by the both of you was enough for it to never initiate the auto recovery function. Leaving it in a half destroyed state forever. 

Keaya has looked towards you and clapped.

“I knew I can rely on you, partner.”

“Technically it was you who was the game changer. How did you find me anyway? The exit is near by?” Chuckle coming out of the male’s chest. He walked closer to you, lips curled up into his usual smug.

“Princess, I’m not deaf you know. I heard distant noise and thought it might be my cute friend needing help. But I guess you were having fun, sorry for breaking your toy.”

The sarcasm in his voice was more than obvious. Rising your hand up towards him, saying ‘high five’ which made him chuckle once more. He was quite worried when each of you stood at different sides of bars. He felt responsible for your well being although he knew you can take care of yourself. You had to do it for half a decade anyway. Yet, something inside of him was making him anxious.

As the two of you reunited it was time to slowly explore the unknown area. It was quite peaceful there but also empty. There probably used to grow trees and more stuff but now it was just a few twigs here and there. The lair felt like one big crater with several ruins shattered around with one bigger at the entrance. To probably keep invaders off. That’s it if they could get through the wind barrier. But it was gone now, so of course you would meet something here.

Hilichurls had several camps around the whole area. Making you wonder if they were living here ever since or just recently moved in. Also wild animals, which was even weirder as you knew animals are sensitive to elemental energy. And just until recently there was a huge concentration of anemo. 

To your surprise or maybe not, you had encountered a few more ruin guards. However as you are two it was no huge issue to deal with them. The only issue was it started raining during one of the encounters. Deciding it was kind of pointless to hide as your clothes were already wet so why not explore a bit more.

The fourth encounter with a ruin guard was quite more challenging for you than the rest. It seemed different than the others, it was bigger and more sturdier and hit like a truck. You were rubbing your wrist. It seemed alright however your sword didn't look so well. It was more than visible how the steel was slightly curved as you had to use it to block one of its attacks.

Looking up at Kaeya who was examining the destroyed colossus. Having a hand on his chin, thinking of something.

"Hmm, I just realized this is our second time being just the two of us and it's again raining." Rising his head and giving you a playful wink.

You just chuckled at his remark. He was not wrong. Ever since you got back you two didn't see each other that often. Kaeya was sort of avoiding you or so it seemed like. Until you accidently ran into him one day. You were hungry and decided to dine at Good Hunter. Before he could disappear you spoke up. Teasing him to yet again chickening out which obviously made him look back at you. Sometimes he is so easy to challenge.

In the end you sorted out everything over a double honey sticky roast. Talking about stuff like nothing, like you weren’t separated or anything. Since then you kept seeing each other here and now. Be at the tavern or when you were passing by the knights. Dropping by, knocking at doors and just exchanging a few words before you ran off to do your tasks.

"Still. It's so strange. Why is there so many of those oversized toys? And what's more strange. How the hell did Aether pass by without coming across any of them?!"

You pouted, arms crossed on your chest. When you come back to Monds you will have to ask the blonde.  

"I wouldn't be surprised if this was Abyss Order's makings." The bluenette answered and pointed towards something that looked like a small cave. "Let's head there and rest."

The cave was big enough to fit both of you in. However the issue was you were soaked and there was no way to make fire. Unless Kaeya will magically pull out of nowhere a few dry sticks. Luckily you had packed a blanket which surprised the iceman. Scoffing at him.

"What? I am an adventurer now, might not be a fully fledged one. But still I'm always ready!"

"Always ready, huh." 

His remark made you blush, you did not expect it. Well, maybe you did but still you reacted this way. ‘Why must he be like this?!’ Coughing a little.

"What I mean is. I always carry with me this little fuzzy blanket. It was my first thing I bought when I got here. And not once it proved to be useful. Also! I got some canned food!" You chirped happily. 

Ok, this surprised him even more. When he asked you to accompany him on a small venture. He did not expect you to bring an entire survival kit. The bag was not even that huge. How do women stuff so many things into such small bags?

"Let me guess. You got there packed your entire bedroom." He joked as he took one of the cans from you. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, instead giving him a spoon.

Kaeya checked what's on the menu. Some veggies and ground meat. Not the fanciest thing he ever ate but better than nothing. All that fighting made him quite hungry after all. He won’t admit it but he quite enjoyed this little adventure with you. It’s been so long since he could fight side by side with his friend. The way you swung your blade and used the cryo vision to obliterate enemies. Color him impressed, not once he wanted to just whistle. 

When you had finished the very modest lunch it was still raining which meant you will be stuck there for a while. You stood up to pull the blanket over your friend and realized it’s not that big as you thought. Sitting next to him, your shoulders were brushing against each other. For some reason you could feel heat in your cheeks. Rather looking outside, hoping he didn’t see it. Otherwise you can ready up for another wave of teasing.

"It's sad none of us have pyro, we could dry our clothes." You whined while trying not to shake.

Suddenly feeling Kaeya's breath at you ear. "Dear, that would require you to be naked for a certain period of time." He whispered in a teasy manner. You didn’t look at him but you are one hundred percent sure his smile is dangerously wide.

The way you groaned, ears turned red despite all of your efforts. Kaeya was more than satisfied. It took him awhile to find out how to make you feel embarrassed. Now he just found deliberate joy in teasing you all the time. 

"You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?" You murmured with an annoyed voice. Eyes still locked at cave entrance. How long will it take until it stops raining?

The sound of rain drops landing on the ground was quite relaxing. It didn't take long until you felt really sleepy. Trying to keep eyes open was close to impossible. 

"Kaeya?"

The bluenette hummed in response.

"Talk to me or I will fall asleep..."

He did not want to admit it but he was already half asleep. The only thing which kept him awake was your occasional shaking. Silently chuckling as he turned head to you.

"I've got a better idea. Do you remember that one night when you were sleeping over and couldn't sleep. When I found you looking out of the window in the middle of night?" 

Shaking your head, not remembering anything at all. Wondering how he can remember something like that.

"Well, we ended up watching out of the window together. Sitting on a chair while you were leaning on me. We fell asleep and the maids woke us up in the morning. Questioning why we weren't in beds."

Really? Did they? Why can't you recall anything like that? Giving Kaeya a confused look.

"How could we fit one chair-" As you finished it, the answer flashed through your mind. Finally you get what he meant with lean on him.

Not even giving it a second thought you shifted in front of him, hesitantly pressing your back on his chest. If you did this as kids then it clearly felt different than now. You were not sure if the warm feeling was caused by your flushed cheeks. Feeling like your entire body is burning right now. Or if it was because of how Kaeya put the blanket over the two of you and wrapped one hand around your waist. 

"Don't mind that hand. I just want to have you secure.~"

"Secure for what?"

"In case you slide to side while sleeping, silly."

"I'm not going to sleep. It's embarrassing and worst is you are having fun!" You protested, pouting once again. 

He could not deny the fact he found this whole situation amusing. Not even feeling guilty for his little lie. You are such a cutie when you are pouting like that

"The real embarrassing thing would be you shifting around and waking up my-"

"What the- Kaeya!" You groaned and wanted to get up but couldn't as his hand kept you in place.

"Shh, I'm just joking, Dearie. Relax. Let's just keep each other warm." Pulling you closer, feeling how your muscles relaxed a bit.

There was silence between you for a while. You were wishing he can't hear your heart beating so loud for no reason. The butterfly feeling in your stomach was lingering there for the whole time.

"You better not run your mouth about this to anyone, or..." You whispered silently, not even bothering to finish the sentence.

"Or? What's wrong about two friends being close, hmm?"

"I dunno." Admitting while completely relaxing against him and closing eyes. You are too tired to bother about anything.

Previous ✨ Next

[azalia]

the story so far : task004

life brings tears, smiles, and memories. the tears dry, the smiles fade, but the memories last forever. ― malik faisal

content warnings: death mention, pregnancy, mental breakdown mention

willow: the vampire has spent the past couple of months stockpiling her resources in various offshore accounts as well as within her home. her manor was already forfeited with with a steel fence surrounding the perimeter and wards bought from various witches across the continent, but the vampire had a secondary fence made of iron installed along cameras. recently she’s taken an interest in artifacts that are rumored to be linked demons and angels. these artifacts have been acquired through trade, sell, and some are stolen from their original owners. she’s currently keeping them in her basement until she can research each piece. her home has also been open to those who work for her, but they only have access to certain areas of the manor

micah: the wolf has spent the past couple of months reinforcing his cabin along with helping his fellow neighbors prepare for the worst since they live a little out of town. a couple of his neighbors have moved in town for their safety or left completely. also during this time the elderly neighbors he took care of passed away. he held their funeral as they had no living relatives in town. other than that he’s been really involved in pack matters and has also been seen visiting hubbard apothecary almost everyday

rhea: the succubi is now 5 months pregnant and has been seeing her doctor regularly for check ups. she’s now aware she’s having twins. one boy and one girl. she’s been trying her best to hide her pregnancy through selective outfits and over-sized clothing, but with her petite build it’s been getting harder especially when running errands around town. she's told everyone in her life including the austere household of her pregnancy and her due date.  she’s also noticed the need to feed has slightly increased over the months, but has ignored it and focused on eating right

claire: the witch has been researching and studying her family history and magic. through the school and her parents she’s been able to put all the pieces together. through her familial research and practice she’s discovered she has an infinity for lightening magic and has been working to hone it. so far she’s been known around campus for accidentally shocking people or short-circuit plugs. she’s gotten better in other areas of magic like warding and simple spells more so than her infinity

simon: the fae has been sticking close to his family and julian these past couple of months. he can often be seen together with one or more of the family members or running an errand. or on the occasion he can been seen with angie on a walk or stopping by to check in on her.  the air has been a bit different around him. the once shy and awkward man is still that, but as of late there’s also been an air of determination and duty that makes the fae seem like a different man. as for gordo’s sweet factory it’s still open, but on reduced hours. the sweet shop opens a hour later and closes an hour earlier. simon didn’t want to completely close, but couldn’t manage the shop and his other responsibilities 

selene: the wolf has not been taking this “possible end of the world” that well. on the outside she appears fine. she still goes to family functions, plays her part in the pack, and goes to work without complaint. but at home she spends most of her time in her room and barely leaves it even for food

orion: the siren has been pretty quiet these past few months and quite frankly bored out of his mind. he had been using his job in city hall to sneak information to azrael’s side, but there hasn’t been much to report. the city has gotten stricter about security and his usual gossips and over hearings have stopped. the siren considered leaving town especially with the chaos outside. what he would give to be a part of that. but was told to stay put for the next phase in the plan

ravi: the nephilim has been very busy these past couple of months. the demand for healing and overall health has skyrocketed. a couple of medical staff left in the beginning to return to their hometowns or seek shelter out of salem and the hospital has not had time to seek replacements. ravi has been covering orthopedic both in adults and children as well as scheduling appointments to see specialists. his day consists of waking up, going to work, and then sleep. most of his meals are on the fly and consist of a cold sandwich or cereal 

lilith: the crown's focus has been primarily outside salem. she’s been behind the planned attacks on the other cities and safe havens all while grading student’s papers

kamilah: the shifter had been so focused on work that she had a mental breakdown from burnout in mid october. she took a month off and a half off to focus on herself and prioritize what she wanted to do moving forward. during that time she got back into her old hobbies and starting seeing someone. now she’s been taking less patients and been offering more group options to cover the need

gabriel: the archangel has been in salem and waiting for azrael’s final strike. she can often be seen walking along the beach or on the docks

[prisonrose]

Why Couldn’t Rose Wait?

So recently I wrote the meta about why Rose would feel it necessary to revive Eternatus when there were likely better and more prudent options. If you haven’t already, check that one out! 

But, of course, that begs the question: Why, then, was Rose so insistent on Leon helping him the day before the Championship Match, and why was he so insistent that he started without what he previously considered to be an integral part of his plan? Well, buckle up, because we’ve got a lot of different questions all wrapped up into one, and they each need to be answered individually.

A word of warning, though: I consider this answer to be much more headcanon based and relevant to my interpretation of the muse, Dhimani. It might not fit neatly with all other interpretations of Rose, and that’s fine! We’re all here to have fun. 

Also, I want to give a quick warning about some darker-than-usual topics. The following post includes or mentions: mental breakdowns, self medicating, insomnia, manic episodes, and panic attacks. 

So first, we have to set the stage by establishing Rose’s mental state at the time. I have a headcanon that Rose was subjected to constant ruinous nightmares about the future starting from when he first brought the issue to his Board of Directors. Once it became obvious that they wouldn’t be on board for helping him find a solution, his anxiety and late nights fretting over the fate of the future was a constant driver for spurring him to complete his research as soon as possible. 

These nightmares started ramping up big time as the league challenge was going on, due to his increasing anxiety and perhaps exacerbated by Rose’s close, constant proximity to the slumbering Eternatus. Eventually it became so bad that he couldn’t sleep at all. Every time he closed his eyes, it felt like he was treated to another horrifying vision about the coming disaster.

In order to continue functioning at a semi-alert state, he began taking a form of medication known as Modafinil, which is usually used to treat people with narcolepsy or who work night shift jobs. It is unfortunately also known to be addictive and can cause acute cases of mania as a rare, but serious side effect. Those were risks Rose wasn’t aware of since he obtained the medicine through… dubious means.

When the player character and Hop engage in their little Tower Rescue as Rose is trying to convince Leon that they need to act right away to avert disaster, he is already a man at the end of his rope and suffering greatly. By that time, he’d clocked in at over two days without any restful sleep, and he was desperate. Every time he closed his eyes, it felt like he was subjected to yet another horrifying vision of the future. A vision of the people in the region he loved more than anything else in the world suffering because of his mistakes. 

To him, waiting another day felt like an eternity. Leon was supposed to be instrumental to his plans, because he needed the region’s most powerful champion to contain Eternatus in case things went wrong. He got no sleep that night, as to be expected, and spent most of the night pacing around and desperately trying to keep himself awake, to keep his mind occupied, to not think about the weight of all of his mistakes sitting atop his chest like a pile of crushing stones.

He couldn’t do it. He was suffering an intense amount, quite literally in pain due to his rampant anxiety and insomnia. And, finally, he decided enough was enough. The next day, he decided to enact the plan early, with or without Leon. With 60+ hours of no sleep and his little “miracle pill” working wonders in his mind, he was certain that he had come up with the perfect plan to counteract the monster himself.

Due to his extensive research, he was confident that Eternatus was some sort of dragon type. He wasn’t entirely certain what its second typing would be, if any (he actually supposed it might be part fairy type as well), but the dragon typing was almost guaranteed. Therefore, it seemed logical to bring a collection of steel type Pokemon to help him put down the monster with minimal casualties on his team. Even if it wasn’t part fairy, he would still resist dragon type moves. Only one problem. He didn’t count on the damned thing knowing Flamethrower!

None of the Pokemon on his team even came close to matching the speed stat of Eternatus, so it did a clean sweep of his entire team within minutes and fled to the Tower Summit to continue building its power. That’s when Rose made his announcement in Wyndon Stadium to try to get Leon to bail him out.

Observing Rose during his battle with the player character before they could go rescue Leon, it would actually be a little difficult to tell that he was so close to the brink of psychosis, but there would be little giveaways. His speech would be slightly slurred as if he’d been drinking, and he’d have a hard time keeping his thoughts straight. He even admonishes himself for ranting about inane shit at the end of his battle with the player character – he’s aware that he’s a bit of a mess. He’d also blink quite heavily, as if threatening to fall asleep on his feet.

Hearing that his little stunt accidentally got Leon hurt though and that the day was only saved because of the player character and Hop’s mystical boofers would be a bit of a sobering moment for him, though, and he’d gladly turn himself in after hearing that Eternatus was captured. And, even though he would be spending the night at the Hammerlocke jail and sleeping on an uncomfortable cot… For the first time in what seemed like years, Rose would be treated to pleasant dreams of shining cities and a prosperous Galar once again.

[greasyvan]

Vanilla [A Van McCann Oneshot]

Rating: M. Actually it might be worse than M. I’m pretty sure this has earned me a one way ticket to hell

Word Count: 5k

Request: Not technically but y’all have been asking for this and you deserve it 

Author’s Note: We’re all goin’ to hell for this

When Van came home from tour, it was habitual for the both of you to stay locked in your bedroom for a few days. You wouldn’t leave the comfort of the sheets, save to do the absolute necessities, like retrieve food or make cups of tea, or shower together. You had to get reacquainted with each other’s bodies, learn about all the new marks that had occurred while you were apart. Van would hold your thighs in his wide, calloused palms and brush his nose against the fading bruise on the inside of your knee. You’d press your fingers into the ridges of his spine and reveal in his skin. New bumps, scratches, marks that had been inflicted while he was away. You relearned the texture of skin so when he left again you could remember the feeling of his body.

It was on the fourth naked day when you decided it was time to rejoin the world. You woke Van with your lips around his shaft and your fingers laced in his. An hour had passed, you’d had your morning romp, and now a naked Van was laying between your legs with his head resting on your thigh. He stroked your skin absentmindedly, staring out the window into the outside world. Memorizing.

The light on his eyelashes were casting shadows on his cheek bones in a way that made your stomach hurt. He was too beautiful, you couldn’t help but want to capture the moment. You reached for your phone on the bedside table and opened up the camera.

“Hey,” You called softly. When his eyes flicked up to you you snapped the picture. “You’re so cute.” He laughed slightly and rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on your lower belly, his arms around your thighs.

“Ain’t that my line?” You took another picture. Even better. He had a slight smirk, his eyes were dreamy. You hummed as he placed kisses on your stomach and across your hips all while you took pictures. Something in the air changed and the feeling went from sleepy and cozy to electric and needy. You whined as he shifted himself down the bed, keeping his arms around your thighs and licked a wet stripe up your center. You opened your legs wider as his tongue delved into you, Van’s mouth making obscene noises against you. An idea popped into your head and you held the phone up, turning on the video function and recording him.

“Say hi,” You whispered, his eyes opening and looking directly into the camera. He grunted and you could feel him smile against you. Van was never someone who was camera shy, in fact knowing that there was a camera on him made him even more eager to please than he already was. He released one of your thighs and pushed two fingers inside of you, tugging them upwards while his tongue circled your clit. You moaned loudly, never one to necessarily be quiet during sex, and wound your fingers into his hair. He relished in the little noises you were making as you squirmed beneath him, his long fingers pistoning inside you so hard and so fast it almost hurt, but in the best way possible.

“Fuck,” You yelped as he tugged upwards against your walls, a new sensation spreading through your stomach. You pulled at his hair and he hissed against your wetness, pulling away from you to catch a breath but keeping his fingers deep inside you. You let out a long, low groan as white spots spread across your vision and you felt your body go rigid. Your legs felt numb as heat exploded through your being and you dropped your phone on your chest. You shook for a couple of seconds and when you came back down to earth you were acutely aware of an unpleasant wetness against your thighs. When you opened your eyes Van’s chest was wet and he was looking at you, face half bewildered half smug.

“Did you just,” He trailed off, not really sure how to finish that sentence. Your eyes were wide like dinner plates and you nodded. “Have you ever done it before?” Quickly you shook your head and Van sat back on his heels, genuinely smiling. He was so fucking cocky. “That was... Yeah that was hot.” You didn’t know if he was referring to the video you both had just made or the fact that he was able to get you to do something you never thought you were capable of doing but you hummed in agreement. Van flopped down next to you after cleaning himself off as you rewatched the video and you could hear Van mutter something against your skin.

“Send that to me,” He requested, and you craned your neck to look at him. “What? Noises you make are somethin’ else. I’ll need it for when I’m gone again.” He took the phone from you, watching the video again and smirking when he made you come.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus christ do you want a fucking metal.” The video was forgotten temporarily as he dropped your phone and rolled on top of you, pinning your arms to the bed.

“Actually I think I would,” He grinned and placed a kiss on your throat. “‘Van McCann, first lover to make you squi-’” You groaned and shoved him off, sitting up in bed, covers falling to your waist.

“You’re gross, that word is gross.” He reached out for you, pulling you back into his arms, not quite ready to rejoin the world yet.

~

A couple months later you were back on tour with Van and the lads. You and Van were supposed to be meeting Bondy and his new girlfriend, Nina, for dinner but after half an hour of waiting in the lobby they still hadn’t arrived. You suggested going up to their room and checking on them and Van agreed, grumbling about being hungry. Their door was slightly open and before you could tell Van to knock he was barging in, about to call out when he froze on sight. You peeked around his arm to see what was happening, your cheeks immediately heating up. Bondy had his back towards you, muscles taut and jeans around his knees. Nina was bent over the bed, arms pinned behind her back as she moaned in pleasure, back arching as Bondy slammed into her. Before they could notice your presence you wrapped your hand around Van’s bicep and tugged him out of the room, gently shutting the door behind you. You watched Van squirm for a moment, tugging his shirt down over his crotch and clearing his throat.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks turned pink and he just shrugged. The elevator dinged, the doors opening up and you stepped inside. “Had no idea you were into voyeurism.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, the tips of his ears turning bubble gum pink.

“’m not,” He whined, looking at the buttons as they lit up.

You were having too much fun teasing him though. “All this time I had no idea you were a kinky little shit.”

“I’m not!” He insisted, practically tumbling out of the elevator into the lobby.

“Your crotch begs to differ there mate,” You cackled. “I’d always taken you for this vanilla guy, maybe we should take the time to explore your kinks babe.” You were laughing so hard you hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking and practically ran head first into him. He turned on his heel and smirked down at you.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, love.” Your hands moved to his arms and you squeezed them.

“I have every intention to.” You pecked him on the lips and grinned back. A couple minutes later, after the sexual tension had dissipated a bit, Nina and Bondy emerged from the elevator looking disheveled and a little worse for wear.

���Sorry guys,” Bondy apologized. “This one likes to take her time.” Nina rolled her eyes as you and Van exchanged a knowing look.

“We’ve all been there,” You assured, linking your arm with Nina’s and grinning at Van. “Van and I are just glad you both came.”

Later that night you’d stumbled back to your hotel room a little drunk and immediately began disrobing.

“So what else are you into?” You called from the bathroom as you washed your face. Van’s head peeked around the door frame, eyebrows furrowed.

“Whaddya mean?”

You patted your face dry with a towel and removed your dress, letting it fall to the ground.

“What are your other kinks?” Van sighed and rolled his eyes.

“This again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and flopped down onto the fluffy bed. “I don’t have any! I’m a regular lad! Your body is more than enough for me.” You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom in just your underwear and smirked.

“That’s sweet,” You commented. “But you’re full of shit.” He groaned and burrowed himself under the covers, pulling the duvet up over his head. He looked like a child, pouting, face peeking out from the sheets as he frowned at you.

“What about you eh? What do you like?” You waved your hand dismissively at him before hitting the lights and slithering under the sheets next to him.

“Please, I know what I like.” Van raised his eyebrows, urging you to go on. “I’m a verse, which means I like to be the boss and get bossed around, depending on how I’m feeling.” You saw Van take his lip between his crooked teeth.

“Anything else?”

You snorted. “Choking, spanking, bondage, teasing, praise, water sports.” His eyes bulged to the size of saucers at the mention of the last one. You giggled. “That last one was a joke.” Van rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“G’night Y/N.”

“I’ll figure it out,” You insisted, scooching closer to his and wrapping your arms around his middle. “Gotta keep my freaky man happy.” Another groan caused you to laugh and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Love you, you kinky bastard.”

~

The discovery of Van’s first perversion was completely accidental.

He wasn’t one to forget things, which is why it made it oh so much worse on the very few occasions that he did. He promised you. He said he’d be home by seven, seven thirty at the absolute latest, so you two could enjoy a delicious meal that you spent hours making and a night home together, which you’ve had few in the last month. You had confirmed with him in the morning before he left and he swore he wouldn’t miss your homemade pasta for the world. It was the first time you were breaking out the pasta maker since Bondy got it for you for Christmas.

You spent the day kneading dough and rolling it thinner and thinner through the machines until it was nearly paper thin and longer than both of your arms. When you had made enough pasta to feed your entire family as well as Van’s you cleaned up and ventured out into the garden to pick some fresh basil and oregano for the sauce. When that was made you cleaned the entire house top to bottom out of sheer boredom and went to the market to buy a fancy bottle of wine. It was shaping up to be a rather lovely night.

When six o’clock rolled around you texted Van for an ETA. When he didn’t respond after twenty minutes you called him and it went straight to voicemail. You frowned at your phone and decided to give him another twenty minutes. When that rolled around you shrugged and started making the garlic bread and boiling the water for the pasta. You set the table, lit the candles, made the plates, and waited.

By the time eight rolled around you were pissed and had already eaten two plates of pasta, half the loaf of bread and were three glasses of wine deep. Everything was delicious but that was beside the point. You glared at your screen and slammed your palms on the table, sick of watching the candles slowly disintegrate into nothing.

You could’ve easily fixed this situation. It’s not like you were worried about him or what he was doing. You knew Van would never cheat. He was just over at Bondy’s with the band and Larry despite having spent the last four months with them. You had Bondy’s number, Larry’s, hell you even had Bondy’s girlfriend’s number. If you wanted to contact him all you had to do was call one of them and ask to speak to Van. But you were in a new mood. You wanted to wait it out, see just how far he would push it.

You didn’t care that he was out, you didn’t care that he was late. The thing that irked you the most was the fact that he promised you he’d be there, and he wasn’t. If he wanted to stay out all night with his friends, you were more than welcome to the thought. Hell, you’d even join them. His fatal mistake were the words “I promise,” and insisting that he wanted to spend time with you. If he’d told you he’d be coming home at midnight you’d welcome the jingling sound of keys and his drunken stumble over the door frame. You would’ve welcomed him into your shared bed you’d been warming up, and you’d be more than happy to ride him to completion if he asked. But he kissed you when you told him to have fun and promised he wouldn’t be late.

Nine thirty rolled around and you had yourself a slice of cake before going up to the bedroom to exact your revenge. You left the table set, the candles burning, even cut him a slice of chocolate cake and set it next to his made up dinner plate. You took the bottle of wine with you though and sipped from it intermittently as you got undressed and redressed. The simple teal cotton dress and tights you’d been wearing getting swapped out for one of your more adventurous outfits.

Van had spotted it in the lingerie store before you had and held it up, giggling slightly.

You shrugged and said, “Looks like something the fembots from Austin Powers would wear.” His expression went blank and he was dragging you to the cash register so he could buy it for you before you could even think of protesting.

It was baby pink and made of light, gauzy fabric, every hem of the mid thigh length robe covered in a slightly lighter pink shade of faux fur. Van had admitted to you one night when he was drunk in the back seat of Larry’s car that the fembots turned him on. He loved strong women. Bondy and Larry teased him relentlessly about it. You paired it with an almost nonexistent red thong, sat on the loveseat facing the door, turned the lights off, and waited. There was a sheer yellow glow from the fairy lights twisted around your headboard, but other than that the room was mostly dark. You continued to let your rage fill you up, that and red wine.

It was almost eleven when you heard the lock on the front door jingle. You pictured him, unsuspecting as he turned around to lock the door as he called out for you. “Baby?” And then he’d see the made up plate, the dilapidated candles, the slice of cake and you heard him swear under his breath. There were a couple of minutes of silence before you heard clinking and pictured him pouring himself a drink. His boots were heavy as he climbed up the stairs, you could almost envision his pout.

The door cracked open the smallest bit. “Love?” He questioned, having not seen you yet. He fully swung the door open, apologies tumbling from his mouth when he stopped himself, taking the vision of you angry and mostly naked in the loveseat. He dropped his coat on the ground and slowly moved towards you as you watched him through your best seductive put pissed gaze. He fell to his knees in front of you and you uncrossed your legs, letting him get a peek of the fabric- or lack thereof -between your legs.

“Baby,” He practically whined, his palms coming to rest just above your knees. “I’m so sorry I forgot.” You sipped from the bottle, watching him with an almost bored expression. “I lost track of time, John and I were writing and...” He trailed off, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Let me make it up to you, eh?” His hands wrapped around the backs of your calves and he tugged you to the edge of your seat, licking his lips. Before he could descend between your thighs for a proper apology you grabbed a fistful of his hair at the crown of his head, stopping him. His wince made you let go, and you traced your fingers down the side of his skull, across his cheekbone, and along his jaw, tilting his face up so he could look in your eyes.

You leaned forward until your lips were at his ear and spoke, softly. “I don’t need you, Van Mccann.” You could hear him swallow at the brush of your lips. He wanted to look at your face to see if you were being serious or not, the words exceptionally harsh, but you kept your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, locked in place. “I have my own hands.” You let up the pressure just enough so he could see what you were getting up to.

Your hand was slowly rubbing circles on your clit over your underwear, the fabric quickly dampening. He swallowed again, his eyes flitting up to your face though he desperately wanted to watch your ministrations against what he wished he was kissing, what he wished he was buried inside of. Van’s mouth flooded with saliva as you released him and pulled your panties to the side, letting him get a proper view of your increasingly slippery play. You moaned, more for his pain than your pleasure, and slipped a finger inside. It felt nice, but you made sure to be extra vocal just for him.

“Fuck...” He gulped and rolled a fist over the hardness tucked in his jeans. He ran a hand up your freshly moisturized leg but you quickly swatted it away.

“No touching,” You softly commanded. He bit his lower lip so hard he could practically taste the blood and nodded. “You know...” You trailed off, slipping another finger inside with a hitch of your breath. “I was thinking, because you wanted to spend time with me, we could try something new.” Without warning you stood, knocking Van onto his butt before strutting over to your side of the bed and pulling the drawer open.

A few days after your discussion with Van in the hotel room, you were let loose in a big city all by yourself. The boys were doing an interview and acoustic gig, and you decided to do some exploring. In under an hour you found yourself outside of an adult store, smirking at your reflection in the black tinted windows.

After a quick discussion with the very kind woman behind the counter you left the store with a pair of red handcuffs and small pink vibrator. You returned back to your hotel and tucked the items in the bottom of your suitcase and you had all but forgotten about them until that moment.

You hung the handcuffs off your index finger and Van visibly gulped.

“I was gonna let you use these on me but considering your behaviour tonight...” You trailed off. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.” Your voice was low and firm and Van obeyed almost immediately, hesitating for a split second.

You couldn’t help the butterflies that infiltrated your tummy at the sight of a naked Van resting on top of your clean white sheets. He was breathing heavy and flushed all the way down his chest, his erection standing stiffly upright, prominent and needy. He looked soft, vulnerable, ready. It made your mouth water. A part of you wanted to just get on top of him and ride him until you both came in an explosive crescendo, but a bigger, more sadistic part was going to enjoy what you had planned.

Van’s blue eyes looked practically black as he watched you climb onto the bed and straddle his lower stomach. You shot him a soft, reassuring smile before taking one of his hands and brushing your lips along the inside of his wrist, snapping the cold, red metal around it. His breathing hitched as you lifted both arms over his head and clicked the other cuff around his wrist, effectively restraining him to the metal headboard.

You brushed some hair from his wide blue eyes and ran your fingers over his parted lips. Your forehead pressed against his as you spoke. “If it’s too much, your safeword is grapefruit, okay?” He quickly nodded and you pressed a kiss to his plushy red lips. “Good boy.” He choked on the air in his lungs as you began your descent down his body. It was slow, maddeningly slow, as you stopped at every weak spot you knew Van Mccann possesed. The first spot was the conjunction where his jaw and throat met. You traced your tongue over the spot, reveling in the noises he was making already. You took your time, nipping and suckling and kissing at his soft flesh until he was keening and panting deep in his chest.

“Y/N,” He groaned in a voice you’d never heard from him before. You pulled away from your spot with a satisfied smirk and looked at Van’s face, nearly gasping in surprise. His pupils were blown wide and his forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His lower lip was chewed raw. He looked absolutely ruined. You placed your palm against his cheek.  

“Oh sweetie, if you’re this wrecked already it’s gonna be a long night for you.” He blanched and swallowed thickly as you moved to your next destination, the slight dip in his chest, right beneath his sternum. You repeated your sloppy, teasing process here, as well as at both of his hip bones. By the time you were sitting between his legs Van was a complete mess. For the most part he let you work in silence, save for the occasional groan when you would sink your teeth into his flesh. You had an idea to get him to be more vocal.

At first you started by just tracing your finger up his inner thigh, under his belly button, and back down his other thigh, skipping over the angry red length that was leaking precum like a broken faucet. As you traced, you drew closer to his shaft, eventually gripping it at the base and giving it a solid tug upward. A struggled cry ripped through Van’s lung and you smiled, satisfied.

“There we go Baby,” You gave him another pull. You could feel the warmth and weight of his erection against your palm. “Let me hear you.” Your stroking became more regular, but still just as slow as Van thrashed against his restraints, the metal cuffs cutting into his wrists. “Do you want my mouth Love?”

“P-Please!” His hips bucked into the air, trying to find something more dense than your hand. He was doing so well and you wanted to reward him, but you thought about why you were in this position in the first place, and changed your mind. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, not stopping your manipulations as you spoke.

“Then you should’ve been home on time.” In a second you released him and completely lifted yourself from the bed, standing at the foot. Van looked like he was about to explode and a long deep moan erupted from his throat.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry.” You placed your hands on your hips.

“I know sweetie. But you look so good like this.” With a swift tug you undid the ribbon holding your robe closed and let it fall off your shoulders, the pink fabric pooling at your feet. You quickly dropped your panties and clambored back onto the bed, sitting yourself right above his member and grabbing the vibrator. Clicking it onto the lowest setting you moved the buzzing head to your clit, a shudder rolling up your spine. Van watched you work with hooded lids as your hips started to jerk around in an attempt to quickly reach your climax. Your other hand, which was previously placed firmly on Van’s chest to balance yourself, moved behind you to grasp his heady length. Van cried out as you slowly jerked him while you ground yourself against his lower abdomen.

You could feel your end approaching quickly and you could tell by the way Van’s back was arching off the sheets that his was too.

“Van,” You breathed, searching for his eyes. When they finally met yours he offered you an exhausted smile. Despite this being a “punishment,” he seemed to be enjoying himself. “You’ve done so well baby.” You removed the vibrator to click it off and shuffled down his body so you were positioned right above his member. “And even though I’m still mad at you, I’m gonna fuck you.” He licked his lip and nodded once.

“Thank you.” With that you sank all the way down onto his cock, both of you hissing as your fingernails dug into the skin of his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through his length, pulsing and warm inside you as you waited for your strength to come back to you. You were both so close to the edge that you were sure it would take only a few minutes to reach the end so you sat, just enjoying him for a moment.

You gave an experimental roll of the hips, preening at the mewl that van emitted, and just like that the flood gates were open. Bracing both of your hands on his chest you ground and rolled and swiveled your hips like there was no tomorrow. Both your bodies were slick with sweat and the sound of your skin meeting and combined moans echoed around the quiet room. You were teetering right there at the abyss, so close your arms gave out and you let yourself drape over Van’s chest, your face buried into the crook of his neck. He took over then, bending himself at the knees to find steady grounding, and thrusted himself up into you until you exploded around him, messy and white hot.

It took a couple seconds for your head to stop throbbing and for you to come back down to earth and when you did you took note of two things: The first being that Van had stopped moving and the second being that your hand was wrapped firmly around his throat. Leaning up a little to see his face you could only describe it as dumbstruck.

“Sorry,” You murmured, pulling your hand away but he quickly began rambling.

“No! No, uhm,” He gulped. “I-I liked it.” You raised an eyebrow at him, a little surprised that he was so open to all the new things you were throwing at him, and then you remembered who you were dealing with. “Can you, uh, can you do it a bit harder?” And if your body hadn’t been completely spent you’d probably come again just from those words. You leaned down and pressed a bruising kiss to his mouth.

“Of course you kinky little freak.”

With both hands wrapped around his throat pressing firmly down you slowly began working your hips over him, his pale face quickly going red from lack of air, making his freckles stand out against the flush. It only took a few solid swivels before his eyes were rolling back into his head, his back was lifting off the bed, and his entire body went rigid as he reached his peak deep, deep inside you. He gulped air in as soon as you released him, panting hard while you cooed at him, kissing his face and chest while you waited for him to calm down. You ran your fingers through his damp hair to get it out of his eyes and when he finally smiled at you sleepily you pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth.

With a silent dismount you went into the ensuite bathroom to clean yourself up, returning with a damp towel for Van. You worked on unhooking the handcuffs and frowned when you saw bruises already forming under his delicate skin.

“Babe you should’ve told me they were too tight.” His head lolled over to look at you and he grunted out a word that sounded almost like ‘Sorry.’ With a shake of your head you wiped his forehead clean of sweat and cleaned up the mess made at his crotch. His entire body jerked when you touched his shaft and you giggled softly. You left the room to get you both some water and some pain killers for Van, pausing to pull his discarded shirt over your head. When you returned you could tell he was just on the edge of passing out.

“Y/N,” He mumbled. “‘M really sorry.” You helped him sit up and handed him the water and painkillers.

“I know.” You kissed him again. “You did very well. And now we know that Van Mccann isn’t just some boring vanilla rockstar.” You both got under the covers, letting Van be the big spoon. You were just about to fall asleep, absolutely spent, when he whispered in your ear.

“Next time you’ll be the one in handcuffs.”

[isidar-mithrim]

Features of the past

In the middle of the night, Teddy seeks the comfort offered by a surrogate of the Mirror of Erised. [Also on Ao3]

__________________________________

Features of the past

Teddy got out of bed as quietly as he could and walked out of the room on his tiptoes, heading for the stairs.

He felt a bit guilty for sneaking around in the middle of the night, but he’d been anticipating that moment since Harry had invited him to spend the weekend in London with them.

Obviously it wasn’t the only reason he had accepted the offer: he considered the Potters as his second family and Harry as the father he’d never had, the person who understood better than anyone what it meant growing up as an orphan. With him he’d ridden a broom for the first time, with him he’d done the first accidental magic that didn’t contemplate transforming his body, and it was Harry the first person Teddy wanted alongside his granny at every birthday, to fill a void that was sometimes quite hard to ignore.

That night was one of those times, and even if guilt creeped in again as he passed by Harry and Ginny’s bedroom, it was easy to set the uncomfortable feeling aside when he arrived in front of Sirius’s old room.

Teddy took a deep breath and opened the door with caution. It didn’t creak, and he entered the bedroom with relief, heading for the only magical photograph hanging on the wall, the one where four Hogwarts students laughed amused, hugging each other.

Teddy had somehow always known that his dad was a werewolf and that he’d been a great friend of Harry’s father and godfather, but it was in front of that photo that Harry had told him the true story of the Marauders, of their friendship, their talent, their jokes, their courage. It was there that he’d told him how the other Marauders had not only accepted his father as a werewolf, but they’d also found a way to embrace his curse, keeping him company during the transformations.

It was there that Harry’d explained to him why all the Marauders were gone.

Teddy looked at the picture from the guy on the right, short and plump. He knew that Peter Pettigrew hadn’t done right by his friends and that because of it Sirius had spent twelve years in Azkaban, but Harry’d also told him that Peter’d died to save his life, just like James and Sirius.

Teddy focused on Harry’s godfather: he had long black hair and a handsome face that vaguely reminded him of his granny when she was young, but Teddy always felt a little uncomfortable looking at him, because he reminded him that even godfathers can die, and the idea that anything could happen to Harry was simply unthinkable.

He cleared his mind of the thought and looked at James. He and Harry would have been practically identical if it weren’t for their eyes, and to Teddy it always felt as looking at a younger, light-hearted version of his godfather.

Only after observing those three boys for the umpteenth time he finally dared to lay his eyes on the figure at the left, the one of a young man a little shabby-looking, but happy and joyful.

Since Teddy had first seen that picture, he’d only been in Grimmauld Place during the day and just for brief stops, so he’d never managed to carve out more than a few minutes to look at him.

This time, though, he had all night ahead of him.

***

Harry was going down to get a glass of fresh water for Ginny – his wand stretched out to light up the halls – when he passed by the room where Teddy slept, the same one Hermione and Ginny had occupied during their first summer at Grimmauld Place. The door was way more open than he remembered leaving it, so he peered inside to make sure everything was okay – if he hadn’t just seen James peacefully asleep, he’d suspect his son had found again a way to climb over the bars of his cot and join Teddy.

The last thing he’d expected, though, was to find the bed empty.

“Homenum revelio” he said instantly, his stomach clenched in fear. Relief washed over him when he sensed four hearts beating at different rhythms from above. As he climbed the stairs with light steps, the beats became stronger, though one remained lighter than the others, suggesting it was farther off. When Harry walked past his own room, he turned off Ginny’s placid pulse and the faster-paced one of the baby they were expecting, then he did the same with James’ pulse, who was sleeping blissfully in the next room. Now that he’d isolated Teddy heartbeat, it became even clearer that it came from an higher floor, so Harry kept going, finally getting a pretty good idea of where he’d find him.

He entered Sirius’ room in silence. Teddy was sitting on the bed, his back facing the door, his hair sandy brown instead of blue as usual, the only moving image on the wall standing out in front of him.

“Hey” murmured Harry.

He had spoken in a low voice not to scare him, but Teddy jumped nonetheless, whirling towards him with wide eyes, and the shock at the sight cut Harry’s breath.

Before him stood Remus Lupin, with his tired but warm eyes, his sweet expression, his boyish traits. The body, however, was the body of a child.

Harry felt his eyes stinging and had to blink several times to keep his composure. He swallowed, unable to articulate meaningful words and wondering if Teddy had turned into his father on purpose, or if he had unconsciously copied the image in front of him.

Harry put the still lit wand on a dresser and went to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around shoulders to pull him into a tight hug.

Teddy leaned into Harry’s chest, clinging to him as if he was his lifeline, and Harry cradled him while letting his gaze wander on his father’s cheerful features. Soon Teddy’s tears began to wet his pajama shirt, but Harry didn’t care, and only when he felt his lips getting wet and salty he realised he was crying as well.

“It’s not fair” murmured Teddy after a while.

Harry squeezed him tightly one last time and then he let him go, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes – they were red, swollen, identical to Remus’.

“No, it’s not” he told him, wiping Teddy’s nose and face with a sleeve of his pajamas and resisting the urge to ask him to return to his usual appearance right away. “And I’m well aware that it’d be nice to stay here all night and watch them smile, trust me, I am, but… truth is, we could stay here a whole lifetime and it still wouldn’t be enough to get them back.”

Teddy looked down, but nodded slowly. “Do you… do you ever think what it would be like if… if they were still alive?”

Harry sighed. “More often than you think.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve no idea I much I’d like to tell them about the baby that’s coming, or to introduce them to James, or to tell them how much I love my godson, but… they wouldn’t want us to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

Teddy’s eyes returned for a moment to the image of Remus before staring at the ground. Harry wasn’t sure Teddy was old enough to understand those words, but he knew that deep down he was reiterating them for his own benefit as well.

“I’m sorry I snuck up” whispered Teddy.

Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No, no, I know I shouldn’t have, but… but I couldn’t sleep… I kept thinking… thinking that I wanted to see them, all smiling together…”

Teddy sighed and swung his feet, hung from the edge of the bed, his legs too short to touch the floor.

Harry felt a ache in his heart, and he knew he had to do something, anything. “I was thinking… Why don’t we make a deal?”

Teddy immediately looked up at him, curious. “A deal?”

“Yeah”nodded Harry, trying to smile with complicity. “A pact just between the two of us.”

Teddy looked at him with an open mouth and wide eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do” said Harry, and this time smiling wasn’t very hard. He raised his right little finger in the air, and Teddy took the invitation at once, intertwining his pinky with it.

Harry cleared his throat with gravitas. “I, Harry James Potter and Edward Remus Lupin solemnly swear that every time we will stop by Grimmauld Place we will come here to greet the Marauders, but that we will only do it together.”

“I swear!”Teddy echoed him, finally smiling as well.

“Well, that’s it, then” said Harry, content. “Now, why don’t you resume your usual appearance, so we can go back to sleep?”

Teddy nodded, serious. He shut his eyes, squinting, and a moment later his hair turned blue and his features returned childish again, keeping certain traits of Remus in the shape of the face and in the cut of the eyes.

“Harry…”

“Yes?”

“Once in a while, if I feel like it, can I get yours and James’ hair?”

Harry had to fight the lump in his throat before answering with a cracked voice.

“Of course, Teddy. Whenever you want.”

***

The next day, Teddy walked around London with a bunch of messy black hair and a pair of shiny emerald eyes.

____________________________________

Notes:

- That the spell ‘Homenum revelio’ functions by making feel the beat of the people nearby is an idea I borrowed from Foreat Castellum (GO CHECK HER STORIES!). It’s my addition that you can turn off some beats at will, so if you didn’t liked it that’s on me ;). Anyway, I like to think not everybody is capable of ‘turning off’ single pulses.

- Harry’s line about not forgetting to live to dwell on dreams is freely borrowed by Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (I’m sure you knew, but you know, disclaimer)

- If you liked this story, then you may like its companion piece, ‘What parents would want’ [on Ao3] ^^

[bts-fantasy]

Angels & Demons (pt. 1)

Pairing: Taehyung (/Jimin) x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fantasy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold concrete knocked the breath out of his lungs. The feeling of bones shattering as he grit his teeth to stop himself from screaming out loud. But he couldn‘t help the low growl from escaping his lips as he winced in pain. He didn‘t know how fast he had been falling or how hard he had hit the asphalt but he knew that under different circumstances he would‘ve been dead for sure.

No normal person could‘ve survived a free fall like this but luckily he wasn‘t a normal person. Well, he hadn’t been one until now.

The moment he had hit the ground he knew that the life he had known would never go back to how it was.

Tears were rolling down his eyes as he slowly felt his bones heal themselves again. The last drops of his power were healing him but he could feel it fading away with each second that passed. He was lucky he had enough strength to at least survive the fall.

Breathing heavily he heaved himself up only to fall back again but his elbows propped him up.

Kim Taehyung... I hope you know what you‘re doing...

He heard his father‘s voice in his mind again and shook his head as everything started spinning around him.

A face, a smile and he remembered exactly why he was lying on the cold asphalt instead of playing with his brothers up there right now.

„Y/N...“, he croaked out before everything turned black around him.

***

„It‘s sad...“ You spoke quietly to your friend who was moving around the hospital room checking if everything was where it‘s supposed to be. You stood next to the patient‘s bed looking at the young man who was lying there like a rock. His skin was so smooth but pale, his lips were rosy and he had only a little scratch on his temple on the right side.

When he was first admitted to the hospital you worked in, he had bruises everywhere. But over the few weeks, he‘d been there the bruises had quickly faded away without much treatment.

He looked beautiful you thought as you struggled to concentrate on your work. You checked the medications he had to take as you glanced over to the board where the name of the patient would usually be.

Unknown.

Nobody knew who he was or where he came from and he had nothing on him either that would somehow indicate any personal information. No one ever came to visit him and he‘d been lying on this bed for weeks now without moving an inch. The doctors were clueless and there was no explanation for the two, deep scars on his back either.

In conclusion, he was the talk of the hospital you worked in as everyone seemed to spin their own stories about the mysterious patient in room 321.

You on the other hand just liked to be next to him. As weird as it sounded you felt an inner peace whenever you were near him. You couldn‘t really explain what it was or why you were feeling like that but you just did. While everyone wanted to know his identity you just wanted him to wake up and be alive again.

Lost in your thoughts you didn‘t notice how your friend had left the room already and that it was now only you and the man in the room. You stared at him and took in the details of his beautiful face. He looked so ethereal that you questioned if he was even real. The way his long lashes threw shadows on his smooth skin or his lips curved with a rose tint or the little mole on his perfectly shaped nose. How could someone look this good, you thought to yourself.

Your hand slowly moved a few strands of his cream blonde hair away mindlessly. When your brain finally registered your action you retreated your hand so quickly that you accidentally brushed his skin with your fingers.

The touch sent an electrical shock through your entire body making you stiffen up immediately and retreat your hand as if you‘d burned yourself. Breathing heavily you looked at your finger and then at the man in front of you.

Slowly you could see his eyes moving behind his lids and you held your breath not knowing if you should run out or stay right there. In the end, you didn‘t really have a choice since your legs were glued to the ground when he finally opened his eyes to look straight at you.

Taehyung opened his eyes slowly and looked over to the person standing at the left side of his bed. The blurry sight slowly cleared and he was looking straight into your eyes.

Y/N‘s eyes.

His heart jumped out of joy since he couldn‘t believe his luck. He‘d thought it would be much harder for him to get through to you but there you were, looking right back at him with those big eyes. Finally, he could relax. He opened his mouth to call your name but instead he was attacked by a coughing fit that knocked the breath out of his lungs. He still had to get used to being so weak and vulnerable.

Alarmed you reached out for the glass with water on his bedside table and he gulped it down in one go. His dried out throat slowly started functioning again and he started his second attempt to talk.

„Y/N...“, he croaked out once again and you stood there with your mouth agape.

How did he know your name?

„How...“, you started but stopped when his eyes closed shut and he lost his consciousness again. You were left there with a thousand questions swirling around in your mind. A storm had been awoken inside of you and the thought of him followed you even in your dreams that night.

***

The next day your friend came rushing towards you as soon as you‘d entered the hospital. „Y/N! You‘d never guess what happened!“ She exclaimed with a big grin shaking your arm vigorously until you had to tell her to calm down again.

„Sorry. Anyways, he‘s awake!“

At first, you didn‘t comprehend but as soon as your mind had put the pieces together you rushed to room number 321 with your heartbeat increasing with each step.

„...Kim Taehyung.“

You could hear his voice seek through the slightly open door and you figured he was talking to the doctor. His voice seemed softer than yesterday but still so deep that it sent shivers down your spine.

They discussed his condition and how they‘d sewed the deep scars on his back. He was able to leave the hospital soon after the paperwork had been filled out properly.

As soon as the doctor left the room Taehyung sighed to himself and sunk deep into his pillow. He stared up at the ceiling while his mind was filled with a thousand thoughts.

He was all alone, had no identity or money and no place to stay when he gets out of the hospital.

How the hell am I supposed to survive out here?

While he was thinking of ways to get by on his own the door slowly opened again and you stuck your head through to peek into his room. Taehyung couldn‘t help the way the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of you. One look at you and all the worries just flew away. It had always been like that and that‘s exactly why he took the risk to become one of the Fallen. You were worth the risk because he knew you were special enough to be protected.

„Come in, Y/N.“

You closed the door behind you and the room fell into silence. Cautiously you took some steps towards his bed and stopped in the middle not daring to go any further.

Taehyung‘s eyes followed you carefully and in his mind, he just wanted to reach out and touch you. Something he‘d been dreaming of doing for so many years...

But now wasn‘t the right time, he sighed to himself.

„I guess you have some questions?“ His deep voice echoed through the big room and you couldn‘t take your eyes off of him. He had you trapped with his beautiful eyes and there was no escape.

You nodded slowly taking a step forward.

„Who are you and why do you know my name?“

You anxiously waited for him to open his mouth and clear all the confusion that had deprived you of sleep.

Taehyung closed his eyes then opened them again with a determined expression on his face. He wanted to be honest with you but at the same time, he knew that you wouldn‘t believe any word if he told you the whole story. So he had to think of something else to tell you.

„I‘m your cousin.“

He cursed himself when he saw the way you skeptically raised your eyebrows at him. Luckily Taehyung knew your story like the back of his hand.

„You must‘ve heard about your uncle in Canada. Well, I‘m his eldest son... I wanted to work abroad that‘s why I came here and well, I had an accident and it‘s a funny coincidence that we meet here.“ His palms were sweaty and his heart was thumping against his chest. He had never lied before and he didn‘t like this feeling even a little bit. It made him feel dirty inside and it was only harder that it was you he was lying to.

You weren‘t sure if he was telling the truth. He was right about your uncle in Canada but you had never really talked to him or any other relative. Your parents had died early in a tragic plane crash and you had spent your childhood at the orphanage since no one from your family wanted to take responsibility for you. You weren‘t mad at them anymore but you didn‘t want to have any sort of contact with them either.

Looking at your so-called cousin in front of you now you couldn‘t quite tell what you were supposed to think of him. You couldn‘t actually blame a stranger for something his parents did but at the same time, you didn‘t know what he wanted from you now.

„Okay... suppose I believe you. What do you expect me to do now?“ You crossed your arms in front of you your eyes fixed on him as you watched his every move.

Taehyung broke out in a sweat. He knew exactly what you had to go through because of your selfish family and saying he was your cousin wasn‘t one of the best ideas he‘d had. He could feel your growing annoyance towards him while he was struggling to find the right words to say.

„Uhm... I got robbed... everything‘s gone, my wallet and even my keys to the motel I was staying in. I... don‘t know where I should go...“

He hated himself for the way he was improving with each lie he told you.

And he hated himself, even more, when he saw your expression soften, a sign that you were actually starting to believe him.

Your mind was filled with thoughts pulling you into two different sides. One telling you to be cold and rejecting while the other one told you to be warm and welcoming. You were still debating what you should do when Taehyung continued talking.

„I‘m sorry... I shouldn‘t have... I know your relationship with my family isn‘t... well it‘s non-existent. I‘ll find a way somehow, don‘t worry.“ You looked into his eyes one more time and you knew that you couldn‘t just abandon him like that. It was not at all like you to not help someone in need and in his eyes, you could see that he had no bad intentions. They were looking at you warmly and so full of hope that you just couldn‘t say no to him.

„I live by myself in the outskirts of the town. I have enough space for you until you find a place for yourself...“

Taehyung sighed in relief that his plan worked out perfectly. So he had killed two birds with one stone, he could keep an eye on you and also have a roof over his head.

The plan was almost perfect if it wasn‘t for one little snag: he had to keep lying to you and frankly, Taehyung didn‘t know how long he‘d be able to do that.

One week later

Taehyung was discharged a few days later and had moved in with you in your little apartment. Most of the time you both were doing your own thing and would only talk if it was necessary. The awkwardness soon turned into a tension whenever you two ran into each other. You couldn‘t quite put your finger on the problem as to why you couldn‘t bear to look into each other's eyes or felt electrified whenever you touched each other accidentally.

Some nights you‘d lie awake asking yourself if you should be feeling this way towards a family member. The question would keep you awake for hours on end and you hated it.

***

You hit the snooze button growling at the thought of leaving your warm bed once again. Another sleepless night and right when you were able to fall asleep the alarm had torn you from it. You wanted to close your eyes for another five minutes when the smell of fried eggs and fresh fruit rose to your nose causing you to stand up and follow it into the kitchen.

Taehyung was standing in front of a sizzling pan his shirtless back facing you. He was humming a melody not noticing the pair of eyes glued to his back behind him.

Your eyes were focused on the two big scratches across his shoulder blades. It was healing but it still looked so painful and you still didn’t know where he got it from. Suddenly he turned around your eyes meeting his toned stomach and you quickly looked away and out of the window.

Taehyung who had actually noticed your presence a long time ago smirked to himself but didn‘t say a word. Instead, he walked over to the dining table where he had already set up a delicious-looking breakfast. He ruffled his hair with one hand giving you a hard time not to look at the way his muscles played with every move he made. It was torturing you and it seemed like he was doing it on purpose.

In fact, he was enjoying the little game and he loved your reactions. The way your cheeks turned two shades darker or your eyes were dancing across the room trying to focus on anything but him. He savored every second while motioning you to sit down with him.

„This is a small thank you... for letting me stay here.“ He then said honestly.

You both ate and finally started talking freely about trivial things and you ignored once again how good he actually made you feel.

Days turned into weeks and somehow Taehyung had managed to get into your heart little by little. The way he noticed every little detail about you and cared for you made you feel so warm inside. He knew how you liked your coffee in the morning or what kind of food you preferred to eat and he even knew that you liked to take long baths whenever you were stressed out and would prepare it for you before you could say anything.

You had convinced yourself that it was in fact just a weird family bond you were feeling deep down towards him and you ignored the way your heart jumped whenever he playfully teased you.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was getting impatient with the act he had to hold up. Being next to you and not being able to hold you or touch you was even more of a torture than to watch you from afar. He didn‘t know how much longer he would be able to hold himself back. Because at the end of the day, he was only human after all.

***

You looked in the mirror spinning around to look at your outfit from all angles. The floral dress didn‘t seem to meet your expectations for a dinner date nor did it suit the person you were going out with.

You had met Jimin a week ago when you accidentally spilled your coffee all over him. One thing led to another and he asked you out on a dinner in a fancy restaurant. Jimin wasn‘t really a person you‘d let in that quickly because he was quite the opposite of you in every way possible. You liked the summer rain and he preferred the scorching heat, you liked solitude while he always needed someone to talk to. However, since you wanted to prove to yourself that you were open to trying new things and that you felt nothing for a certain someone you had decided to give Jimin a chance.

You took off the floral dress to change into a red dress with a figure-enhancing cut. Pleased with your look you finished getting ready and walked out of your room only to bump into a broad chest. Taehyung looked down at you eyeing your outfit with an unexplainable look on his face. For a second you thought he was in pain but he quickly covered it looking blankly into your eyes.

Taehyung was actually trying very hard not to lose his composure. You looked stunning in that tight dress and he hadn‘t been ready to see that at all. He had no idea what was going on but one thing for sure he couldn‘t tear his eyes away from you. Cursing himself in his mind for being so weak he tried to comprehend the situation in front of him.

„Where are you going?“ His tone rather demanding without really intending to. He saw you raise your left brow but you didn’t hold back the answer.

„I’m going out on a date.“

Taehyung‘s heart dropped at that second and he was sure you could read the disappointment right off his face. There‘s only so much acting he could do and the thought of you going out with someone else just ripped him apart. But it was all his own fault. If he‘d been honest with you from the beginning maybe...

No.

There‘s no chance of you believing anything he‘d tell you. It was hopeless.

He had to focus on the task at hand and just do what he came here for.

„Who are you going out with?“ His deep voice echoed through the walls of the apartment.

You didn‘t understand why he was asking so many questions and it honestly started to annoy you.

„Why does it matter?“ You asked crossing your arms in front of your chest while looking up at his blank face. You tried to read whatever was going on behind those eyes but once again, you failed.

„I‘m just trying to look out for you, Y/N.“ Taehyung replied lowly bringing his hands up to your face but dropped it before he could touch you. You held your breath suddenly realizing how close you two were standing and slowly took a step back shaking your head.

„I can take care of myself, Taehyung.“

And with that, you turned around and grabbed your purse before heading out of the apartment leaving a dumbfounded Taehyung behind.

As soon as the door closed behind you he let out a desperate groan kicking the couch next to him only to regret it later when he felt the sharp pain rise up his right leg. Letting himself fall on the couch he buried his head in his hands pulling on the long messy strands of his hair. He even considered following you just to make sure you were okay but he didn‘t really want to suffer more than necessary.

Looking up and he tried to find something to distract his mind from thinking about you when his eyes fell on a piece of paper on top of your coffee table. He reached out and slowly opened it curiously reading the few lines that were hastily written on it with black ink.

Thanks for the coffee...

Call me sometime?

Xxx-xxx-xxx

- Park Jimin

Taehyung‘s blood froze in his veins as he stared at the paper and the name written down on it.

Park Jimin.

Taehyung grabbed his coat and immediately ran out of your apartment.

He had to find you before it was too late...

Masterlist

[thespellweavingspirit]

"I'm Not Food!" Energy Ward

Occasionally, I get people telling me that they have a problem: entities keep eating their energy! This generally happens to high-energy individuals, especially energy suns. Those who have trouble containing their energy and those who seem to be a 'beacon' to entities may also find themselves benefiting from this ward.

Lots of things out there will try to snack on your energy. Most of the time, it's harmless(ish) and you'll regain the energy lost in less than a day. For example, if you encounter an unawakened energy vamp and they take a little energy from you, or you encounter a nightmare in your dreams. Occasionally, though, you might attract a bit of unwanted attention if you leave yourself open all the time. Parasites like to attach to you and leech off of you indefinitely--if you don't take care of them, they can cause significant damage to your energy. Or maybe you frequently encounter a particular energy vamp who doesn't know how to reign in their feeding. Or a nightmare entity finds your fear and uncomfort particularly tasty and keeps coming back... you get the idea. Point is, I don't see many witches actually dealing with this problem. Many just let it happen, and keep having to get parasites removed or some such thing.

Wards are a preventive measure you can use to keep this from happening!

It is important that I restate this: wards are a preventive measure, they are not meant to fix an already existing problem.

Specifically, I want to discuss a ward I use to keep things from snacking on me without my consent. I am an energy sun, as well as someone with high energy levels, so I have plenty to give when I donate to my vampiric community... but I don't want things eating my energy all the time. That would be draining. I also use this ward to lay over my other wards so that they don't get eaten either! (An energy vamp i'm psychically bound to has, in fact, just straight up consumed my shields accidentally before. She also had trouble setting her own bc she kept eating them by accident.)

Essentially, it works the same way that bright colors do in nature: it screams, "I am not food, do not eat me, you will regret it!" To anything that tries to do so. I've also had people describe it as seeing plastic/toy food. It looks like it's edible, but you know that it is not and it doesn't have the same texture or taste. You can also set the ward to make your energy undetectable, like an invisibility glamour, if being a beacon to other entities is something you struggle with. Like any ward, you can also add other neat functions to it if you've got the skill level... but for today i'll only be focusing on the "don't eat me" aspect to keep things simple.

Required Skills

This is a bit of advanced/intermediate energy work, so you need to be able to do a few things in order to effectively cast and maintain this ward. They are:

Ability to manipulate and sense external energy

Ability to cast a stable ward with more than one function programmed into it

Ability to summon a specific type of energy, given its energy signature OR Ability to read and re-create an energy signature via energy conversion (or some other means)

How to Cast

This spell uses a type of energy called transparent void. If you are unfamiliar with this energy, my definition is "Void energy that does not seek to consume other types of energy." It has very little to no energetic presence and tends to blend in with the atmosphere, much like an energy chameleon would. This makes it perfect for our purpose. If you are not sure where to find transparent void, this is the part where that last 'required skill' is going to help you.

#

The above is a sigil i've filled with the signature of transparent void. You will need to be able to sense that energy and either summon it or somehow replicate it if you want to have the most effect out of this spell.

WARNING: If you know you do not work well with this energy, please do not try to work with it. Theoretically, you can preform this spell with any type of energy... I just find that transparent void works the best for this particular function.

Now to get to the actual casting:

Gather a good amount of transparent void energy and fashion it into a large net, big enough to completely cover your energy feild on all sides.

Infuse a bit of your energy into the net. This will key it to you, making it work for you and only you. It will also allow for anything you program into this net to work on you.

Now you want to program this thing. This is the tricky part, in my opinion. Everyone programs differently, and some aren't quite sure exactly how. Here's how I do it: My craft is very vocal, so I speak what I want to program aloud, imagining my words take form and soak into whatever I'm working on. In the case of this ward, you want to program it to make you not tasty. I'd say things like, "This net shall make my energy undesired by all who would try to eat it without my consent. I can give my consent by saying, 'I give my consent to [name].' My energy will not register as energy. My energy will not register as something edible. This net will not register as energy. I allow the following entities to permanently bypass this ward: [names of entities]." The reason this works is because words/languages are used to give shape to our intentions. The same can be done in magic; i'm simply putting the my intentions behind the ward into it. If you use my method, be aware that, along with wards, I also infuse direct instructions on what doing the things i'm telling to do actually mean via Thinking Really Hard At It(tm). Basically, as i'm saying "I don't register as energy" i'm simultaneously thinking of the bright colors in nature and the plastic food thing, and letting that travel with my words as unspoken intent. It's kind of like... let's say you don't know a language, but because it uses the latin alphabet, you can technically 'read' it. Just because you can read the words doesn't mean you understand what they mean. So what i'm doing to this thing is giving it the language and the meaning behind the language. That's what programing is. One other thing i should mention is that when you want to key entities other than yourself into your ward permanently, you need to infuse a bit of their energy signature into the ward as well so that it'll recognize them. You can typically do this just by using their name, since names carry the energy signature of a person. Energy signatures are basically like fingerprints. Feel free to add other functions to this ward if you'd like!

When you are done adding all of your functions, it's time to set the ward! Throw the net over your energy field and allow it to seal itself flush to you. You want to guide the ends of the net to find eachother and bind together, so that the net won't simply fall off. You may be wondering why i chose net and not a typical impenetrable sphere. Well, like I said before, I DO want people to be able to reach through to my energy and feed off of me with consent. I also want my energy to be able to flow out of me. To me, a net design just makes more sense. The net itself is transparent, so it can't actually be seen once it's active, and it's also MUCH less likely to break since you cant really... punch through a net. I'm minimizing the risk of this ward being detected and broken by making it a net. It's not like this ward is meant to be a sheild, so this is fine. Anyway, you want to test your ward after you've allowed it to set, so ask someone you haven't keyed the ward to to see if they can/want to eat your energy. If they say it tastes bad, or feels bad, congrats! You've done it.

If you want to make changes to your ward, you can easily do so. Since the ward is keyed to you, you command it. Ask it to come off of you, and it will! From there, you can add (or remove) certain functions to it. Just remember that it is not designed to be a sheild, so functions like "such and such energy can't penetrate this ward" won't work. Things *will* still be able to eat your energy, they just... will find it very undesirable.

Important notes

Keep a list of all your ward's functions somewhere safe so you don't forget them!

Be sure to check and repair the ward regularly. All wards take damage over time for various reaons. You may have to have someone else help you check its functionality again.

As always, if it starts to feel icky, *take it off*. You can try cleansing it and re-setting it, but if that doesn't work, you may consider remaking it with a different type of energy.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that's all, guys! Have fun with this. I spent a lot of time perfecting my own version of the Don't Eat Me ward, having discovered it quite by accident. Spend some time perfecting your own version!

[lovemesomesurveys]

Out of all 24 hours, which one is your favourite? The one where I have my first cup of coffee, ha. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? Nope. What are the names of the neighbours to your right? I don’t know. Left? I don’t know. When’s the last time you actually sat down and watched the sun set? I’ve never actually sat down to do that. I just happen to see them while out and about or during car rides or something like that.

Are you on a laptop or desktop? Laptop. Do you ever make your own surveys? No. What colour is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? My family likes Dominos, Pizza Hut, and Round Table, but my favorite is a local one. It’s SO good.  When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone? When my aunt was here last week. What time are you planning on going to bed tonight? I go to bed around 2ish or so, typically. How old are you, your parents and your siblings combined? 160. The last time you went out of town was? Yesterday. And where did you go? A nearby touristy city near water. One of my favorite places to go. Have you ever been bit by an animal? Maybe accidentally while playing around. Where is the person you miss the most right now? Some of them have passed away. Have you been paying attention to the Olympics much? I don’t watch them. How often do you take naps? Oftenish. I’m tired everyday, so I’m always fighting sleep during the day and sometimes it wins. I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but when do you go back to school? I’m done with school.  Did it rain today? No. What was the name of the last dog you pet? That’s my doggo, her name is Princess Leia.  Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? Chicken tenders and fries--always. Lol, yesterday we went out to eat for lunch and I ordered coffee and a kid’s meal and I realized it was just the perfect representation of me. It was funny cause when I ordered the coffee, the waiter had to check if they even had any cause he wasn’t sure. He came back with some and he was like, “I gotta tell you, you’re the first person I’ve ever waited on here that has ordered this, which is why I didn’t even know we had any.” Yeahhh, I’m the lame-o who just gets coffee or water and chicken tenders with fries. lol. Are you constantly judging people? I wouldn’t say I’m constantly doing that, but I think we all judge others in some way or another and it’s not always a bad thing. Some people are just very judgmental, though. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Yes. Think back to your freshman year in high school, what was the first class period on your first day of school? I think it was health. What colour is your bike? I don’t have one. What word can you not stand to hear people say? I hate the c word and the p word. You will never hear me say either one.  When was the last time the power went out at your house and how long was it out for? Back in June like the first triple digit day of the summer. I think it was out for like 2 hours. Thankfully, that was the only time this summer. What room of your house are you in? Mine. When there’s a full moon, does it make your room really bright for a few days? No? I didn’t know that happened.  What is the temperature in your city right now? 68 F :O Which would you rather, a snowy day, sunny day, rainy day or cloudy day?: Rainy or cloudy. I’d say snowy, too, but it doesn’t snow here so I don’t know. I think I’d like it, though.  How long have you ever spent away from home? A week. Ever had to get any stitches? Several. When did you last use a post-it-note? I don’t recall. Would you ever want to own your own restaurant? No. Do you have a fan in your bedroom? I have a ceiling fan and 2 regular ones. Have you ever seen the White House? Not in person. How about Niagara Falls? Not in person. What about the four corners, have you ever been there? I have. Have you ever played any variation of the padiddle game in a car a night? If not, you should wikipedia it and play it. It can be fun with the right people? Nope. I’ve never even heard of it until now; I had to look it up. The most recent staircase you went down, what did it lead to? I can’t take the stairs. Have you ever thought about what life would be like if we all slept during the day and were active at night? Yeah. I mean, I’ve definitely had days like that, ha, but yeah I’ve wondered what it would be like if that was the norm. What colours are the counter tops in your kitchen? They’re granite top. Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? No. Which major body of water do you live by? The Pacific. Who is the last person that you took a picture with? My brother. What type of food do you eat the most? Eggs, bologna sandwiches, and ramen. When is the last time you were stuck in a fairly long traffic jam? Yesterday. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? No.  What do you enjoy most about your life? My family, which includes my doggo. She can always make me smile. When was your most recent trip to an aquarium? It’s been several years. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? I haven’t had a salad in so long. Apart from lettuce and spinach of course, I liked hard boiled eggs, olives, croutons, peppercinis, green onions, avocado, shredded cheese.... I think that may be it. Ranch or caesar dressing.  Last time you changed the light bulb to the lamp that you use in your bedroom? I think like 2 years ago. Does sleeping past 12 or 1 in the afternoon make you feel like you’ve wasted a lot of your day or do you enjoy the extra hours of sleep? I don’t care, honestly. I have nothing important to do. What is your state most famous for? I think when people think of California they often think of Hollywood/celebrities, In-N-Out, and the beach. Other things, too, but I feel like those are some of the main ones. What was the last thing you signed your name in cursive on? The credit card machine thingy when I bought something yesterday. How many times in your life have you seen a shooting star? Zero. Have you ever witnessed a tornado? No. How many times a year do you go out of state? I don’t go out of state regularly. The last time was 6 years ago. Has your best friend ever moved away? No. If it has one, do you ever use the notepad function in your phone? Yes. What website do you visit the most often? Tumblr. How good would you say your memory is? Pretty good. About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? A few times. Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? We have those wax melting things as well as room sprays. What scent of candle do you burn the most? We have quite a few different ones for our wax warmer. I have like 3 candles, but I never light them. For what reason did you last cry? My emotions and moody moods got the best of me yesterday. The day started out good, we went out of town to one of my favorite places to pick up my bro (who we dropped off the day before for a concert) and to grab lunch at our favorite place there and then do a little shopping. Should have been a great day, but my moody mood struck during it and it takes control over me. Then I started to feel sick on the way home, so that was fun. I felt really shitty last night. What’s one thing you’re glad you’ve done recently? Hmm. How long have you been taking surveys? Over 10 years. What kind of surveys do you wish there were more of? I like ones with questions like the ones in this survey. Just random questions and thought-provoking ones that let me ramble and vent.

[izumitate]

don’t linger

So, I was trying to write something sad, but jury’s out on whether it worked, haha. This one is for my favorite angst queen @audriel89 !

Content warnings: this one’s about ghosts, so there’s referenced character death.

“Hey, Kuroo. Nice hat,” Sawamura says, wearing the same beautifully wry smile as he did when he was still alive.

“Thanks, it was a gift,” Kuroo replies numbly, reaching up to grip the brim of his hideous tiger stripe cap. Yamamoto had given it to him as a present a couple of years ago, and now he wears it when he ducks out of the apartment on rainy days for a short errand and doesn’t want to carry an umbrella. It protects his head well enough, but he can still feel the light patter of rain on his shoulders. The sound of droplets rustling against the plastic bag in his hand reminds him that he only stepped out to grab a bottled milk tea and box lunch for tomorrow, because he knows he won’t have the time to stop by during his rush for the train. There weren’t supposed to be any ghosts included in this little excursion.

“It keeps your hair in check, in any case,” Sawamura says. He gestures with one pale, translucent hand at Kuroo’s forehead. It’s dark all along this road, but for the beaming lights of the konbini storefront and Sawamura, glowing like moonlight. Still as young and handsome as Kuroo remembered, just a bit more ethereal now. A bit less grounded.

“Yeah, but it makes the cowlicks worse when I take it off.” Kuroo’s voice is steady, to his surprise.

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

“A limitation of your imagination, Sa’amura-san.”

“I suppose so.”

“So,” Kuroo says, dragging out the word. “This is new! Taking a little postmortem stroll around Japan? Where have you been so far? See anything good?”

Maybe if he acts like this is normal, things will make sense again and his brain won’t shatter. Or he’ll just go insane that much faster.

Sawamura shakes his head, amused by Kuroo’s valiant attempt at nonchalance. He floats a little closer; Kuroo wants to reach out and touch him. “Not really. You were my first stop; I thought it might be fun to visit you.”

Kuroo blinks. “At two in the morning?”

“Sorry, is this an inconvenient time for you? Should we reschedule this haunting for a little later?”

Kuroo laughs at the unimpressed look Sawamura sends his way. Still so sassy, even as a ghost.

God, what are they doing here? Is this even real? Or did Kuroo trip on his way down the stairs and fall into a coma without knowing it? Is there any explanation more logical than the conclusions he’s jumping to?

“Is that what’s happening? You’re haunting me? That’s a bit unfair. What’d I ever do to you, Sawamura?”

Sawamura grins back, floating all the way over to hover by Kuroo’s side as he begins walking back to his apartment. If they’re going to have a conversation, might as well do it somewhere warm and comfortable. Kuroo doesn’t explain where they’re headed, but Sawamura doesn’t ask, content to just go along with it. Even in the past it had always felt natural to fall into step with one another. No need to waste words when they somehow knew how to read each other’s body language fluently enough to translate without thinking.

“What didn’t you do to me, is the real question. I have a whole list of complaints, Kuroo. It’s why I came so early in the morning; it’s gonna take me until at least breakfast to get through all of them.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to cook for you, too. I only have one egg.”

“And you’re not offering it to your guest? I didn’t take you for the stingy type.”

“Take pity on me,” Kuroo whines. “I’ve got tests to grade and and club activities tomorrow. I need the energy. Which reminds me, I’m also hoping you don’t expect me to stay up all night. I have to wake up in a few hours.”

“You’re so high-maintenance,” Sawamura jokes as they ascend the stairs to Kuroo’s place. “I should’ve chosen an easier target. But seriously, you can sleep first if you want. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Kuroo gets to putting his purchases away once he lets himself inside, while Sawamura peeks curiously around his not-very-interesting apartment. Sawamura seems preoccupied with the photographs on Kuroo’s wall, so Kuroo leaves him be for a moment to go change back into his pajamas.

“Are you saying you’re going to watch me sleep?” Kuroo asks while Sawamura scans his bookshelf. Sawamura turns to see Kuroo vigorously brushing his teeth, and shakes his head.

“Not unless you want me to,” he says with a laugh, and then floats over to the window. “Go to sleep, Kuroo. I’ll be back tomorrow; we’ll talk then.” His form grows thin as he passes through the glass and then Kuroo is left standing alone in his apartment with toothpaste froth on his mouth, wondering if he just had a really weird fever dream. Because, what? Just happened?

Kuroo shuffles blankly back to bed and slides under the covers. There are too many words forming into too many half-woven questions; they tumble around his brain without direction. For some time he just lies there, staring at the ceiling and the dark, until an uneasy sleep overtakes him.

--

True to his word, Sawamura is back five hours later when Kuroo is packing up his bag for the day.

“You came back,” Kuroo says as he watches Sawamura fall back into place beside him, like it’s natural to belong there. It doesn’t feel as wrong as it should. Kuroo may have grown too accepting in recent years.

“Of course I did; what kind of ghost haunts someone for just twenty minutes?”

“I did think it was kind of a letdown, but it felt rude to mention it.”

“And everyone knows that you’re never rude, right?” Sawamura teases as they walk to the train. Kuroo has headphones in – the kind that also function as a microphone, so that he at least looks like he could be talking to someone on the phone. The train is crowded this morning, so Sawamura floats up to sit atop the baggage rack, to avoid phasing through anyone. Kuroo stands facing up toward him, gripping a hand strap and pretending to look at the screen announcing the next stop, but their eyes keep catching on one another’s, and they exchange sheepish smiles.

When most of the morning crowd clears out, they move over to an empty corner so Sawamura can stop perching like a cat about to strike.

“So, are you back on unfinished business?” Kuroo asks, like they’re discussing weekend plans. He’s seated, looking up toward Sawamura, who shifts out of people’s way as if he still has solid mass. He still smiles at children and the elderly like they can see him. But sometimes Kuroo catches him watching people with a certain intensity that feels unfamiliar. Maybe being dead makes the world look a little different.

Sawamura returns his attention to Kuroo. His hand is resting against the wall as if to brace himself and Kuroo has to wonder absently about how the laws of physics apply to spirits. “Mm, I wouldn’t quite put it that way. I’m just here to hang out for the day.”

“Did- um. Did you want to see something in particular? I have work today, but we could go somewhere afterwards.”

“No, I didn’t come expecting you to provide entertainment. I just thought I’d drop in and see what you get up to these days. If that’s okay?” He looks momentarily lost, and Kuroo quickly shakes his head.

“Yeah, you know I’m always up for fun. I gotta tell you, it’ll probably be kinda boring for you, but if you don’t mind chilling out and making fun of my students, then let’s do it.”

“Let’s do it,” Sawamura echoes, with the same brightness in his eyes Kuroo remembers from across the court. Phoenix fire and marble.

Behind and through him, the world blurs green and powder blue outside the train window. It’s a beautiful day.

--

Kuroo’s homeroom class is rowdy and clever and terribly annoying this morning. It takes a while to get them settled, and by the time he leaves them for his first class, Sawamura already knows them too well.

“You knew what you were signing up for when you became a teacher, right? Was corralling your team not enough for you?” Sawamura asks during his free period. Kuroo just spent the last hour going over last week’s test and listening to a whole lot of groaning. He’s marking more exams now as he sips his milk tea; Sawamura leans against his desk and looks around at the other teachers too busy to pay mind to Kuroo basically talking to himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; Nekoma was team of pure, good-hearted angels. Now, if I’d been in your shoes, then I probably wouldn’t have wound up here.”

“Oh, you would’ve gotten a handle on them eventually. Just like you’ve got these ones under your wing. I have to say, you’re a lot better at this than I expected.”

“Thank you a million times over for your faith in me,” Kuroo says dryly. “What do you think Amagi wrote here? An eight? An ugly five?”

“Looks like a five to me,” Sawamura says. “Give her the full points.”

“You’re too soft,” Kuroo tsks, and they finish grading in this same manner for the rest of the period.

Kuroo doesn’t wonder at the fact that no one else in the school can see Sawamura. He assumes it’s because Sawamura has no ties to anyone else here, or that it’s because of some other ghost business that Kuroo doesn’t understand. Sawamura does accidentally float through another teacher at one point, and she sneezes right afterward.

They spend lunch outside, watching students milling around in little clusters. Somehow it feels easy to be together like this, despite all the oddities of the situation. Sawamura asks after all the old group, and Kuroo tells him everything he knows, though he has to apologize for not keeping up as much with all the ex-Karasuno members. Sawamura just laughs, telling him that knowing anything at all is more than he really expected.

“Do you have any good tricks?” They’re watching a crowd of kids exchanging flirtatious banter, and it makes Kuroo want to play a prank on them.

“What am I, a dog?”

“I’m just saying, ghosts usually have some fun powers. Like telekinesis.”

“Nope, I’ve got nothing.”

“Boring,” Kuroo says with a pout, and Sawamura rolls his eyes, floating backwards until he’s hanging upside next to Kuroo’s head.

“Yeah. I went to the afterlife and all I got was this lousy intangibility,” he says, and Kuroo feels suddenly guilty. Sawamura is literally dead and here Kuroo is, making a stupid joke about it.

“Shit, that was insensitive. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ve gotten pretty used to being dead. Don’t feel too bad. C’mon, tell me which of your kids is the most likely to embarrass themself in the next five minutes.”

Kuroo gladly latches on to the change in subject. “Oh, definitely Sakurai. Watch, when he goes over to Kanda…”

The day is uneventful as far as school days go, but Sawamura never seems bored, even when he keeps relearning the same math lesson over and over. By club time he seems even livelier, floating around in amusement as Kuroo oversees the Exercise Club. The small group of students are doing stretches and jumping rope in the yard.

“Before you ask, yes, we do play volleyball sometimes. I put up a net outside when the weather is good.”

“Do you ever play?”

“Yeah, but not for long because they start complaining about uneven teams,” Kuroo says, keeping an eye on a girl chasing her friend around with her jump rope.

“Play six on two. That would even things out.”

“Too much, maybe. I’m not that fit anymore.”

“You still look pretty good to me,” Sawamura says with straight-forward honesty. Kuroo’s heart skips a beat until he follows it up with, “I mean, your face is what it is, can’t do anything about that, but the rest isn’t bad.” He gestures broadly at Kuroo’s body.

“I see you haven’t gotten any more charming since I last saw you,” Kuroo snarks back, and Sawamura laughs. He looks like he wants to bump his shoulder against Kuroo’s, but they both know it’ll just be a reminder that this can’t last.

“It’s hard enough for people to change as it is; us dead guys are totally stuck in our ways.”

--

After club wraps up, Kuroo returns to his desk to send out a few emails before calling it a day. They’re standing at the train station again, waiting to return home when Kuroo thinks to ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to go do something? Normally I just go home and crash on my couch after dinner, but it’s Friday evening, and you’re in town.”

“Are you saying you wanna go out?”

“I mean, it seems like a waste for you to come all this way just to watch dumb reality tv with me while we eat takeout. Uh- while I eat takeout.”

Sawamura shrugs. “To be honest, that plan sounds just fine to me. But maybe you’re right. I only have twenty-four hours. I should probably make them count.”

Twenty-four hours? Kuroo wasn’t aware of this.

“Is that when you have to go back? To the, uh,” he makes a sweeping motion with his arm and probably makes everyone in the vicinity want to avoid him, “the great beyond?”

“Yeah, I could only afford a one day pass,” Sawamura says like he’s joking, but Kuroo’s chest seizes painfully anyway. If he had known, he wouldn’t have kept Sawamura here, hanging around aimlessly instead of using his time for better things. Before he can get all tangled up in guilt, Sawamura puts his hands in his pockets and asks, “So what should we go do?”

Kuroo had found it a not-unwelcome change to return to the countryside once he graduated from college. The slower pace of life, the abundance of nature everywhere, the wide open spaces and quaint houses tucked among the foliage. He kept his house closer to the town center, preferring to commute over to his school, and it’s worked out well enough for him so far. The downside is most places of interest are at least a few train stops away. He thinks for a moment about where they could go on such short notice, where Sawamura might actually enjoy himself.

“We’re close to the water,” Kuroo finally offers. “It’s a little cold this time of year, but the shore is pretty nice.”

Sawamura doesn’t take more than a second to think about it. “The beach? Sure, why not. Take me to the beach.”

They have to ride into the main station before changing lines, and by the time they make it to the ocean, it’s early evening and the sun is starting its descent. There are few people around; the April weather is pleasant but growing rapidly cool now that the day is coming to a close. It leaves Kuroo space to openly talk to Sawamura without looking too strange – insofar as a man alone at a beach is ever strange.

“Do you swim?” Sawamura asks as they walk along the shoreline. His not-quite-there feet swish through the water that crashes gently against the white sand. The foam tickles at Kuroo’s bare feet, and he hops a step further from the water. It’s a touch too cool for his skin.

“Yeah, though it’s been a while. I used to go on beach trips with Kenma’s family all the time when we were kids. We’d have matching floaties,” he says with a laugh as he remembers the time Kenma got a sunburn on his shoulders and was cranky for weeks.

“I can see that. You used to splash him while he was huddling on the beach, I bet.”

“You know it. Were you a swimmer?”

“Not really, but now that I can’t do it, I feel like I miss it? That’s how it goes, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll swim twice as hard next time; you can live vicariously through me.”

Sawamura shakes his head with a smile. “Sure, you do that.”

After walking to the cliffside, Kuroo jogs back the way they came, trying to beat Sawamura back to his shoes, but ghosts can fly surprisingly fast. He collapses into the sand afterward, wheezing as Sawamura laughs at him. Since neither of them are equipped to go swimming today, Kuroo settles for making a damp, slouchy sandcastle as they talk about the current Nekoma team under Coach Naoi’s instruction.

The sun is near the horizon now, a deep molten core streaking the indigo waves with gold. Sawamura sits across from Kuroo so that the sunset shines through him, and Kuroo’s words stick in his throat for a moment when he notices.

He’d never gone to the beach with Sawamura while he was alive. There was never time, just like there was never time for any of the other thousand things Kuroo regrets not taking a chance on. Taking that art class in university. Going skydiving with Bokuto. Asking Sawamura out for a drink.

It isn’t like Kuroo had burned for Sawamura. Or tore up flowers and sheet music and journal pages trying to capture some fraction of the feelings he felt for him. Nothing ever so far-reaching or soul-wrenching.

But he had always thought that perhaps there was a greater than zero chance they might someday find their way to each other. Two lines not quite parallel, that might meet somewhere down the road, once they’d stretched far enough in the same direction. Sawamura had occupied a place in Kuroo’s life that no one else could fill – some cross of friend, rival, and if-only.

It was fondness folded into a summer daydream: wispy and weightless, with no expectations, but a whole quiet world of possibilities. And then all those possibilities came to an abrupt halt, and that was that.

Sawamura had never been his to lose. But Kuroo had hurt, nonetheless.

“Kuroo, help me dig up that little thing right there,” Sawamura says, interrupting Kuroo’s spiraling thoughts. His translucent hands comb against a shining patch of sand.

“Here?” Kuroo crouches down and scrapes his fingers through the spot Sawamura was just touching. He unearths a chunk of green sea glass the size of a stamp, and rubs it clean of sand. “Oh, nice find!”

It’s a lovely mossy color, frosted and worn soft to the touch. Sawamura runs a pale fingertip over the surface and then withdraws, floating a few feet into the air.

“Sorry, I can’t buy you anything, so that’ll have to do for a souvenir of our trip.”

“That’s more than good enough for me,” Kuroo says, finding himself stricken by the expression on Sawamura’s face.

He looks like he’s at peace, smiling at Kuroo with the same fondness he’s seen directed at Hinata or Suga or Tsukki. The sea glimmers dark like gold-embroidered velvet through him, but he looks and sounds so heartbreakingly familiar in this moment that Kuroo thinks he could forget about the last five years if he were to close his eyes.

Forget the way his heart stopped cold when he first heard the news. Forget how serious and still Sawamura’s face had looked in his memorial portrait. Forget how he had ached, sitting there with Kenma as they watched Hinata on the international court, knowing that there was someone who would never get to feel that pride when looking down at the court.

It’s past six p.m. now. Kuroo only has Sawamura again for today. This short, unsatisfactory slice of time. Eight hours left, and Kuroo doesn’t know how he’s going to say goodbye at the end of it.

--

It’s a quiet ride home, and then Kuroo brings them to a hole-in-the-wall yakitori place where he likes to grab a bite to eat after long days at work. They get a tiny booth to themselves, and Sawamura watches with patient amusement as Kuroo eats.

“What food do you miss most?” Kuroo asks, because he always loses track of his tact when he’s tipsy, and because Sawamura has proven to be awfully nonchalant about no longer existing.

“Actually, I think it might be yakiniku. Part of it probably has to do with the atmosphere; y’know, sitting around a table with your friends, fighting over the last piece of beef.”

Kuroo can see it, especially after that last day of training camp. God, they’d been so young then. Even now, he can imagine how it would be: Sawamura, crowded in his seat up between Azumane and Suga, arguing with Bokuto over the next piece of meat, making sure the pork is cooked just the way Kuroo likes it.

Kuroo waves his skewer in the air like an addled conductor. “Next time…the next time we do yakiniku, I’ll put a plate aside for you. I’ll even buy you a drink,” he promises drunkenly. “Come back and join us.”

“Well, I can’t say no if you’re going to be so generous.” Sawamura rests his chin in his hand, watching Kuroo with undivided attention. With the smoke in the air and the lights gleaming dimly against the wooden walls, the space feels suddenly intimate, and Kuroo takes another deep swig from his beer.

What if he had asked, one of those dozens of times he wanted to? Would they be sitting in a restaurant together on a night much like this one, laughing at each other’s jokes and flirting lightly as they wait for the check? Would Kuroo finally know more of Sawamura’s touch, beside those fleeting handshakes and hugs shared over the years?

Could Kuroo have changed the path of Sawamura’s life? Or do all roads lead to the same destination – with Kuroo mourning Sawamura as a lover instead of a friend?

There are no answers at the bottom of his bottle, but he drinks as if there are. Sawamura doesn’t comment, but he does pull the conversation back toward easier matters: Kenma’s promotion, Kai’s wedding, Yaku’s visit last month. Kuroo focuses on telling the best stories he can, because he thinks that if his mouth stops moving he’ll fixate on how Sawamura’s hand always rests close enough to touch, but never close enough to feel.

It’s approaching midnight when they leave the restaurant, and Kuroo takes Sawamura on the meandering path home. There’s a small park near his apartment block, and Sawamura insists that he take a seat on the bench for a moment to find his balance when he almost trips on the sidewalk.

“C’mon, I thought you could hold your liquor better than that.”

“ ‘m not even drunk anymore,” Kuroo grumbles. He slumps down, legs outstretched, and lets his head loll back. “I just get a little clumsy when I’m tired these days.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sawamura says brightly. “Not with those reflexes of yours.”

“Hey, lay off, I’m getting old!”

“You’re still in your twenties; don’t act like such a geezer.”

Kuroo pulls a face. “Not for long, I’m not. I’ll be using a cane soon. You’ll see.”

“Don’t be in such a rush to grow old. You’ll get there eventually.” Sawamura, seated on the bench beside him, floats up a few inches so he can reach out as if to brush Kuroo’s fringe out of his eyes. Of course, he only passes through Kuroo’s face like a winter breeze, but Kuroo gives him a watery smile back anyway. This is a tenderness neither of them is used to, but it feels like it’s been overdue. If only for tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll sit outside my house and yell at my grandkids’ friends when they come around.”

“At least offer them some snacks, you jerk.”

Above, the stars are brighter than they ever were in Tokyo, and Kuroo wonders if this is the sky that Sawamura used to see, looking out his window as they reached for the same dream. It’s easy to waste another hour just talking to Sawamura like this, because this is the relationship they always had, in those scant moments they shared together over the course of their friendship. Sawamura wasn’t lying when he said he just wanted to visit: it’s like he’s been dropped back into Kuroo’s life after a long trip abroad. If Kuroo were a little more idealistic, he would hope for another day like this, another chance to catch up a few years down the line.

But something in the core of his heart tells him this isn’t an ordinary occasion.

It’s a quarter to two when they finally reach the main street that leads back to his apartment. They pass by the konbini silently, and then the criss-crossing little residential streets until they’re standing only meters away from Kuroo’s building. Kuroo’s never been an expert on the supernatural, but he can feel the space around Sawamura growing blurred, like it wants to pull him back across the veil. He’s about to make an ill-timed joke about it when Sawamura stops them in their tracks and turns to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“Thanks for spending the day with me, Kuroo. I had a lot of fun.”

There’s a heavy finality in his voice. It fills Kuroo’s lungs with lead.

The alcohol is wearing off, but enough of that liquid bravery, like magma in Kuroo’s stomach, remains that he wants to say something stupid in response.

I mourned you.

I grieved for something I wasn’t even sure I understood. A lingering promise, a missed chance. A dream that faded before I could wake.

...I think I could have loved you.

But there are only a few fleeting minutes until Sawamura has to depart, so Kuroo will be civil. Kuroo will be kind, to both Sawamura and himself.

He intends to just accept Sawamura’s gratitude, but one question sticks in his mind so persistently that he’s asking before he can find the self-restraint to stop.

“Sawamura. Why did you- why come and see me? I know there are so many people who would’ve given- who would be delighted to see you one last time. So why choose me?”

Sawamura pauses, his mouth slightly parted as if to speak, before his expression shifts.

Years ago, lifetimes ago, there had been a morning in Tokyo, misty and gray, when Sawamura had stumbled into Kuroo’s corner of town and they spent a handful of hours together before he was expected at the airport. They’d done nothing exciting, but Kuroo will never forget it, if only because of the expression that Sawamura wore while they were waiting for the bus as the fog lay thick around them, blocking out the rest of the world.

Kuroo had long gotten used to being admired, or glared at, or sized up as an opponent. He’d seen all three cross Sawamura’s face in the past, though usually he met Kuroo with either amusement or teasing exasperation. In that moment, however, it had been something wholly new. Something Kuroo wasn’t sure he was reading correctly.

Sawamura was watching Kuroo like he wasn’t sure he was real, those dark eyes wide and wondrous. As if Kuroo was something special to behold, something not quite within reach. It only lasted a second, before Sawamura shook himself out of it and gave Kuroo that sly grin that he knew so well. But Kuroo could never get that sight out his head, letting it haunt him in sleepless hours.

It’s how Sawamura looks at him now.

“I just wanted to see you, I guess,” Sawamura says, eyes soft. After a second, he laughs quietly and ducks his head, in a gesture that feels painfully true to life. When he looks up again, his gaze is clear and focused, the way it always was on court. The way Kuroo remembers him best. “I wanted to catch up with an old friend. So, thank you. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

They both know that they can’t.

Kuroo swallows, and it hurts his dry throat. “Y-yeah, of course. Just, uh, drop by or whatever. You know where to find me.”

“I do,” Sawamura says, laughing once more. Kuroo’s heart aches.

He wants to say something to prolong the moment, but if there’s anything he’s learned over the last day, it’s that any chance they had has long since been lost. Regret lies heavy in his bloodstream and his breath comes short when he inhales. Kuroo is pushing thirty now, settled in his life and happy about where he’s headed, and Sawamura?

Sawamura will never look a day past twenty-four.

Kuroo clenches his right hand, trying to remember how Sawamura’s palm felt against his, calloused and strong and searing. But nothing remains except the faintest sense memory.

He extends his hand regardless, knowing it can’t be the same.

“Goodnight, Sawamura.”

When Sawamura’s fingers brush against Kuroo’s palm, a chill runs through his skin and he tries to close his hand around the flesh that isn’t there. He gets a rueful look in return as the other man withdraws.

“This is where I tell you I won’t lose again, isn’t it?”

“And where I tell you we’d be happy to take you on again any time,” Kuroo agrees quietly.

“I think that rematch will have to wait.” And Kuroo can see his outline going threadbare.

Sawamura lifts his hand back into a wave, slipping backwards toward the light of the street lamp. The honey glow of the lamp intersects briefly with Sawamura’s own light, painting him angelic gold for a second, and for just this moment, with the veil of reality pulled thin, Kuroo can see the yearning clear as daybreak written in Sawamura’s eyes. Like a perfect mirror image to Kuroo’s own.

It’s instinct to step forward, reaching out toward Sawamura to try and touch him, to catch him before Kuroo can lose him, yet again, but already the distance is too wide. Sawamura smiles, even as he fades.

“Goodbye, Kuroo.”

And he’s gone.

Kuroo stares for a minute longer, willing the streetlight to shimmer and reveal Sawamura’s ghostly form again, but there’s nobody here on this road except Kuroo and a few sedate cars passing through. The whole world is quiet, giving him a moment of silence to find his breath, steady his heart.

The spring air embraces Kuroo with cold familiarity as he begins slowly walking up the stairs home, alone again. Above as below, the world spins on, once more without Sawamura. Kuroo unlocks his door, but stands there in the threshold for a long moment, just looking in. Finally, he takes a deep breath and steps inside.

It’s late. He should go to sleep, and wake early to greet the new day. Maybe tomorrow he’ll go for a swim.

[henrynicholl7-blog]

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[borrowd-time]

Jaxon Moretti shares our delusions. They are 627, a Reaper and a Sponsor. While they might be dynamic, sometimes they get unpredictable. They are a switch in bed, and homoflexible. They are into edgeplay & exhibitionism/voyeurism and want a dom/sub/switch partner. 

Name: Jaxon Moretti Age: 627 years give or take, though he looks to be mid to late twenties. Species: Reaper (Rogue) Status: Sponsor [no rescue yet] Connections: None, all his family went to dust a long time ago +social, +quick-witted, +excitable, +curious -sarcastic, -stubborn, -manipulative, -unpredictable  

Jaxon is a bit of a wildcard, having been around town for several years now and still somewhat a mystery to most people who know him. Most think him as little more than some strange creature who wandered in and went through the usual paces of earning himself a place there, and then eventually status as a Sponsor, very few can say they know more than the surface. Even fewer know his motives because he carries on with a sort of nonsensical air and a noted tendency towards mood swings at the drop of a hat. Depending on the type of supernatural creature some can sense what he is, some can’t, and for the ones who cannot he doesn’t make it a point of conversation because...really...who wants to hang out with a guy who probably off’ed your family or somebody you knew?

He is, of course, remaining in town as a means of survival. It’s certainly not the world outside that Jaxon fears so much as his own body failing him without what he needs to stay on his feet. The Sponsor idea was another dumped on him by default of being around a while, so far he hasn’t really attempted to take in any sad little wayward souls. It’s probably much better for them that way, honestly....there’s a lot of temptation in the idea of having someone alive around all the time.

 He’s always thought himself to be mostly Agender, though for so long he was used to the idea of there only being male and female terms, so he still defaults to male for his own out of habit. His sexuality has wandered over the years, not fully aware during his mortal life that attraction to men was even an acceptable concept, time has given him room to grow. His interest is in men but his experiences have been varied and spanned genders and types of relationships. He’s at the point anymore where he takes affection and attention where it lies and doesn’t need to label things off; if he’s content he’s content and that’s all that matters. Technically he would probably be polyamourous, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also want to be the center of attention...he’s just okay with that being with more than one person involved. In fact relationships often crash and burn badly for him because he becomes rather obsessive over people.

Since he grew up in poverty and general desperation Jaxon has a lust for nice things, expensive things, and his home reflects that. Lavish, exaggerated; comfort is absolutely something he indulges. He discovered a decade or so back that it isn’t just mortal life that keeps him energetic so said home has plants littered around, surrounding himself with that life. He has a hell of a time keeping them in check though, one would think his presence draining them would make the floral die out but quite the opposite really; they flourish. So much so that at times he has to weed out the ‘jungle’ before it takes over his home.

With a short attention span to entertain that home is also littered with whims and distractions; whatever crossed his mind as interesting at any given time. It’s practically an endless cycle of tossing out old interests and moving on to the next, most of them fueled by investments over the years because, really, he planned to be around as long as possible and likes the shifting odds of the stock market. Or he used to, once he grew bored of it he hired somebody to do it for him and doesn’t pay much attention to his investments so long as he at least has the money to travel and amuse himself.

Jaxon became a Reaper at the end of his mortal life, finding death one particularity vicious winter that took both his life and that of his family. His memories of before are only thin shadows at best, but the deal Death offered him seemed too good to pass up with the bitterness of his life feeling too short when the cold stole it. He hit a raw nerve with Death about a hundred or so years later when he decided to step outside the rules and accidentally ended a life that wasn’t supposed to be cut short. One would think that meant losing his job but, no, a contract with Death is ironclad. Even if the powers that be couldn’t take his job they could banish him from it, effectively cutting off the source of supernatural energy that keeps Reapers’ fragmented souls from dissolving into nothingness.

Faced with that lovely fate, he’s been keeping himself on the existing side of things ever since by doing what he was trained to do; find people whose life is about to end. The only difference now is that half-spent energy doesn’t go entirely onward with departing souls...a sliver of it is carefully tucked away to keep himself grounded in the world. He’s gotten better at it over time, anymore most people don’t even realize from one life to the next that a tiny splinter of themselves is...absent. The damnest thing is he’s noticed that people sometimes almost remember him, think he’s someone they knew but just can’t place. He’s not going to be the one to tell them that it’s because a part of his essence is fueled by what he took from them; most people wouldn’t be too thrilled.

Eventually those fragments run dry though, grow thin, and rather than let them entirely burn out he releases them knowing they’ll find their way back to where they truly belong. He’s not a total bastard, he wouldn’t let part of a soul fade away, he likes to think of it as just...borrowing for a while. Everybody is trying to survive, right? Why should he be any different?

Around once every few years Jaxon has to resort to more extreme means than his usual death-scavenging and needs to actually cut a life short before its’ rightful end. The spark of life when separated from a person is the only thing that can keep his own shattered soul from untangling. Of course he’s not foolish enough to do anything of the sort close to home, it throws up a nice, big red flag to Death and he doesn’t want to stay on the radar too much. Travel, find a random person, do what he needs to and then fall off the map until he has to do it again; it all comes down to survival. But those are the ones that stay with him, the ones who bury the memories of their life inside his head, ones that don’t leave him even when he’s moved on to the next.

//Powers/Magic// Since his banishment Jaxon hasn’t been able to act as a Reaper to his full extent but still retains some of his powers. Since Death is actually bound to honor his contract until he finishes the terms and he can’t finish those terms as he can no longer collect the agreed upon number of souls...he found a loophole of sorts that allows him to keep those abilities. The downside is he’s a free agent now, so to speak, and without Death’s direct power to keep his soul grounded he has to find ways to do that himself or risk not dying but entirely fading out of existence.

Death Inducement

Jaxon can’t actually touch somebody and kill them, that’s not what a Reaper does; their function is supposed to be to arrive at the time of a life’s end and remove the soul from a dying body if it happens to get stuck, otherwise they just hang around and make sure soul-scavenging creatures don’t snatch it up. That ability to reach into a person and grab hold of their soul though, as one would imagine, does kill them if it is removed so honestly it’s about the same difference. He has to willfully use the ability though, he wouldn’t just randomly brush against someone and they might drop dead. He prefers not to use that method when he has to end a life to prolong his own because very often he retains memories from that life and he already has enough of those haunting him.  

Death Sight

Being able to sense when someone is very near to death is an important skill to him now since he has to be there to scavenge off that departing energy and steal a little of it for himself. He can, at any given point, study those around him and see the sort of gray haze that settles over their eyes when they’re bound to die soon, even if he’s not strong enough anymore to predict the exact time and place other than guess by how dull that haze becomes. Often, if he’s getting weaker, he’ll hunt down a target and stalk them until their life ends.

Death Knowledge

Another useful skill is being able to decipher the manner of death a person suffered, even if it was a long time past. To do so he must have access to a corpse or something that was in close and prolonged contact with their body at the time of death. Often this will happen as choppy memories of their life first, then the moment of death through both their eyes and the borrowed sight of whichever Reaper was there to attend to their passing. It’s a difficult power to use and very draining, plus it tends to leave Jaxon with migraines and nightmares for weeks in the case of violent deaths.

Invisibility

All Reapers can come and go via a thin veil that exists between life and death; this place is where they step outside the mortal world and travel through it unseen by living eyes. It’s not becoming invisible in the usual sense so much as an ability to simply not be perceived by those around them. Supernatural creatures lacking souls or already dead can still see him even in these cases, but anyone mortal or with an active life-force cannot. It’s also an instinctive state when he’s using his Reaper abilities to remove a soul; the dying cannot see him until the moment they actually pass, and even then it’s only for an instant.

Fear/Hallucination Inducement

An ugly side effect of being a Reaper is the need for people to fear you; if everyone welcomed death then people would never feel the need to live life with the sort of intense focus that makes change in the world. In Jaxon’s case it is a skill best used for getting people off his back when he’d not in the mood to deal with them; a little digging into their deeper terrors and throwing them into their face is usually enough to at least stun most. The other side of the coin is not so much fear as just outright delusional hallucination. Which he has to admit to being fond of himself now and then for the amusement it offers; sometimes he’ll mess with people and trigger strange visions in their presence just to screw around. He has to experience the altered state of mind with the person though, so at times it’s a risky shot to take.

Reaper Physiology

Not as much a power as a downside; when the stolen energy he thrives on grows thin he loses some of his pleasantly youthful glow and starts to look just a bit more on the corpse side of things; too thin, dead pallor, hollow eyes. He’s also not all that physically strong compared to many supernatural races, and no more immune to injury than most mortals. He heals faster with more energy to spare, but even worse case he can’t die naturally and sometimes that is a more horrifying thought than people realize, he is immortal in a skewed sense; there is no death waiting for him...there is only the slow fade of his soul into nothing that will wipe him entirely out of existence.

[chaletnz]

The Trip Begins in Sofia

An afternoon flight allowed me ample time to prepare for my next European adventure. I took a leisurely breakfast with Alice at the hotel, ran all of my errands and even had time to pick up a chicken sandwich on my way to the airport. Although we waited for 30 minutes in the bus to the aircraft, all was smooth on the flight and I realised that it would only take 2 hours and not 3 because of the hour time difference. We arrived to rolling green hills, small clusters of houses and dry farmland that was probably grateful for less hot weather. The shuttle between terminals drove me around the airport right at sunset and I enjoyed some spectacular views of the air traffic control tower and large letters spelling Sofia in both English and Bulgarian. Inside Terminal 2 I changed 20 euros into local currency Bulgarian lev and then bought 2 tickets for the metro as my hostel had instructed. One for me and one for my bag! It was a much more advanced subway system than I'd anticipated - the scrolling sign inside and the announcements were in both Bulgarian and English (actually better than the Ubahn in Frankfurt which is only in German). After a journey of about 20-30 minutes I arrived at Serdika station which is right in the centre of Sofia and serves as the change station between the two metro lines, I walked upstairs to some deafening club music which was outside a bank of all places and desperately tried to navigate my way to the hostel. I walked down a dark main road and followed the directions to find my way into a little courtyard where I simply followed the sound of people speaking English and felt like I must be in the right place. I was checked in by Antonia who was super helpful and friendly despite my feeling uncomfortable with all of the socializing in large groups happening around me. I was shown to my room and then headed out for a quick Lidl trip to buy some water and a shower gel for the trip. Back in my room I planned out some activities for tomorrow and chatted to an American lady called Wendy who had also just arrived. It was actually a very comfortable bed and dorm room, unfortunately 2 of the roommates came in quite late and woke us up. And in the morning there was a mad scramble to get up and shower in the only shower between 15 people. It definitely made me think back to my leisurely mornings in the hotels! Once the scrambling was over I got ready and went to the free breakfast in the main hall, it was chaos with so many people fighting for cutlery and plates and two young Bulgarian ladies in aprons trying frantically to replenish the food. I took a waffle and grabbed the nearest free seat at a table with some hungover Germans. After my light breakfast I packed my day bag and headed off, first stop was the bank to exchange some cash. I walked down one of the central roads Alabin and found the huge court house with its two lion statues outside. A little bit further down I reached the 2 Giraffes espresso bar for my morning cappuccino. I had just enough time left to quickly find the street art I had spotted last night and then I met the walking tour guide Slavyan and the other participants at the court house. Around the corner opposite the St Nedelya church we began with a short history of Sofia - one of the oldest cities in Europe at around 6000 years old. The church was the site of a terrorist attack in 1925 that killed almost all Bulgarian political and influential leaders except for the king. A funeral was being held in the church whilst stacks of explosives lay below, by his own good fortune the king was running late and that is how he survived. Next we visited Serdica square where the St Sofia Monument stands. Slavyan told us about the "big misunderstanding" relating to this monument which was a millennium gift from the government of Sofia to its citizens. It was presented as a monument to St Sofia after whom the city was supposedly named but historians disagreed and said the city is not named after the Saint. The church was also not pleased at the depiction of a "Saint" with such an open dress. But the monument stayed put and that was that! We followed Slavyan to the Sveta Petka Orthodox Church. It was from the 14th century and nearby some ruins from the 4th century had been excavated, it seems that the Bulgarians loved to build their new buildings on top of old ones. Outside the mosque Slavyan pointed out the synagogue (the 4th largest in Europe) and told us about the Jewish population's interesting history. When Germany approached the Bulgarian border the Bulgarians were forced to ally as they did not have a strong army, however each time the trains came to take Jewish people to concentration camps the citizens worked together to save them. The king himself even stood on the train tracks and said they could only be taken over his dead body. We passed through the hot springs next and were invited to drink some water in hope to improve our cardiovascular system. Across the road we saw an old bath house that had been converted into the Sofia history museum and had beautiful gardens and a fountain laid out in front of the building. We passed by the Communist headquarters building where 700-1000 administrators would have worked but now it functions as an office for the socialist party which is the second or third political party in present day Bulgaria. Slavyan led us underground to the ancient city ruins of Serdica and showed us exactly where the east gate was located and in doing so we ended up taking a convenient underpass to cross the road and emerge outside the presidential office. Luckily we arrived just in time to see the guards marching for the changing of duty and we could all take a photo before Slavyan took a group photo of us. Next we passed through some archways to arrive in a courtyard where the St George church (also known as the rotunda church) is located. It was built in the 4th century and is one of the oldest buildings in the world at 1600 years old. In front of our next landmark; the National Art Gallery, formerly the royal palace, Slavyan directed us around to tell the story of the royal family in a bit of a performance so we understood how Bulgaria had initially "imported" its royal family but eventually ended up with a Bulgarian-born king. As we walked down the yellow brick road Slavyan told us about how the government had bought these expensive yellow bricks to look more European however once it rained for the first time and it was discovered that they were slippery and impractical, the government decided to lie and say the bricks were a gift for the royal wedding so that the citizens wouldn't know that so much money had been spent on the slippery bricks. We walked up to the Hagia Sofia which was the church responsible for the renaming of Sofia from its original name Serdica. And then we had reached our final destination, the one and only Aleksander Nevski Cathedral with its shiny golden domes. The grandest building in Sofia made with only the best materials, including a total of 22 tonnes worth of bells imported from Moscow. The largest and heaviest bell weighs 13 tonnes and it has been said that if you were to ring all of the bells together then the windows in the surrounding buildings would blow out! After the tour I went to take some photos of the cathedral and went inside to see how big it really was. Then I retraced my steps to get photos of everything we had visited on the tour. I felt hungry and luckily stumbled upon a supermarket to buy a milkshake and an oat bar for sustenance. Then I walked up to the central train station stopping only for a short break at the Lion Bridge. I bought my onward ticket to Skopje, Macedonia and luckily I checked the details in the agency because the woman had accidentally given me the morning bus rather than the afternoon one! My last big excursion for the day was a trip out to the NDK where I walked through the Bulgaria Square and into a quiet neighbourhood to find a speciality coffee shop called Dabov to enjoy a flat white. On the way back I watched the skaters for a while, especially the inline skaters as they were waxing all of the steps and getting in everyone's way. On my walk back I found a Bulgarian Apple Bandit cider in a supermarket which of course came back to the hostel with me to drink while writing my blog!