#anyway this is to say that its not that i think that everyone cautioning about scams is correct.

[elftwink]

been learning to play ironsworn (gritty fantasy ttrpg which you can play with a gm but is mostly suited for solo or small group co-op gmless play) after having the rulebook pdf for several years (stars finally aligned to remove invisible thing blocking me from reading it idk) because i'm on another solo ttrpg kick & i don't know what took me so long to get around to this game because it genuinely is exactly what i was looking for. years ago when i was playing through solo 5e modules i should have just been playing ironsworn (believe it or not, 5e isn't very suited to solo play and is extremely clunky when you try lol).

also though i have dabbled in some other solo ttrpgs, a considerable amount of them are journaling games which is fun but imo considerably more work (usually by the time i'm a quarter of the way through the journal entry, i know how to entire scene played out and i want to move on to the next gameplay thing, so i get frustrated and bored quickly. it feels like when you solve a level in a video game but don't have the coordination to pull off the necessary move so you have to spend 20 extra minutes doing something you already figured out), so i really appreciate like not needing to write something for the game to progress (ive been taking notes for my own record since im playing solo and thus am not really out loud roleplaying the way you do in a group, but i definitely could do that instead and not take notes and the game would still function perfectly)

& ive been playing by myself but also in the past ive played a lot of ttrpgs in very small groups which has been other games but is mostly dnd and like. we also should have been playing ironsworn so that having a gm was not necessary. have definitely played games where we had to adapt the rules soooo much to do something that is just base game included in ironsworn. plus it's rules-light enough to do pretty complex moves that pose difficulties in bulkier games (ever introduced someone to dnd and they tell you they want to do a sick backflip and catch something and then attack and you have to tell them that will require several different consecutive rolls and some creative liberties with how the rules are 'supposed' to let you move? you can just Do That in ironsworn. use the strike move and describe it. done!)

the one thing is that although it's rules-light enough to theoretically play any setting or genre (some with more difficulty than others), ive found so far that like... the grittiness and sense of threat is very built into the mechanics so that would be sort of difficult to work around or change (but i think it's great from a game design perspective). what i mean is like, okay: you start with 5 max hp. there isn't really a way to raise this max hp, you just slowly gain abilities (assets) that make you less likely to have to lose the hp in the first place, or that make it easier to recover. when you encounter foes, you rank them on a scale of 1 -5, and enemies on the lowest side of this scale do one harm to you, while enemies on the highest side do five harm to you. so even though encountering an epic enemy won't always be deadly due to the assets you have, they are ALWAYS capable of taking you down to 0 hp with one good hit. so the feeling of threat is much more present compared to games where your character starts to be able to just tank and push through a failure or huge threat.

admittedly also i'm playing solo, im still learning how to balance combat, and also i built a character who has NO combat talents and iron (the close quarters fighting stat) is one of my lowest stats so i personally am under much more threat than if you built a character who knew how to fight or who could do deadly harm. but also the other thing about combat is it's extremely difficult to maintain control of the fight; you have to score a strong hit to do it on basically all moves, and there's a really limited pool of moves available when you don't have the initiative, and obviously none of them really favour you. i don't know that this makes combat genuinely more difficult, but it does make you feel like the fight is always about to spiral out of your control. every second you let it drag without decisive action feels like it brings you closer to dying. like i said, this is a feature of the game design and not a problem in any way. just thinking about it because when i was initially learning i was going to try to supplant it into a homebrew fantasy world of my own but the tone just wouldn't be right. and that it is somewhat difficult to replicate the kind of worlds that i typically play or run for dnd, which tend to lean somewhat sillier and definitely much higher fantasy

but i like to try new things and tbh especially in dnd i find that i very rarely feel that sense of threat and when i do feel it, it has nothing at all to do with the actual mechanics and reality of the combat and everything to do with how well the dm sells it to me and makes it sound and feel scary and dangerous. which is a testament to what a good gm can do for you but i do appreciate the threat feeling more built-in and also being actually real.

[spockicelli]

It's really fucked up how no one here has any reading comprehension or common sense.

[delugyu]

cold, cursed city (part 1)

summary: You wish your best friend would just leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

word count: 25.1k

tags: angst, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, reader has a crush on soobin, chaewon is reader’s other bestie, so much possessiveness and jealousy, beomgyu is extremely clingy, manipulation, lying, arguments, a lot of crying, guilt

smut tags: multiple smut scenes lol (2 in this part), switch!gyu, switch!reader, guided & mutual masturbation, dry humping, praise, little bit of degradation, nipple play, very desperate gyu, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f rec), dacryphilia?, pet names (angel, pretty girl, baby, etc)

notes: finally releasing this monster from its prison cell (my google docs). been working on this for a month because whiny possessive best friend gyu has been haunting me every day… anyway i hope u guys enjoy, and lmk what u think!

You hated the walk back to your apartment in the winter. It’s always so cold, and certain paths are always so icy. But you have no choice, and you’re fortunate enough that your job is only a ten minute walk away. It’s snowing today, though, hard enough to make you take each step with caution.

The wind whips across your face, making you squint to protect your eyes. You make it all of two minutes before giving up and going into the nearest public establishment you walk by, which happens to be your city’s library. You catch your breath as soon as you enter the building, taking off your jacket and folding it in your arms. You walk around slowly, looking for a comfortable chair to rest on. It’s unsurprisingly very quiet in the building. All you can hear is people typing on keyboards and hushed conversations every now and then. Everyone looks busy here.

You find a secluded area in the back corner of the library with three lounge chairs. You rush to take a seat there, letting out a sigh of relief as you sink into it. It’s right next to a heater, too. The yellow lights are soft and warm above you. You look out the window, watching the snow rage on. Now that you’re able to see clearly, you notice how there’s a good four inches on the ground. There’s a few people passing by here and there, but the streets are mostly empty. Even the cars are few and far between.

You fish your phone out of the pocket of your abandoned jacket to call Beomgyu. He should probably know that you’ll be back later than usual. By the looks of it, you could be waiting in this library for another hour.

“Hiii,” he says. You can hear his smile in his voice, and it makes you light up.

“Hi Gyu. Did you see the storm outside?” you ask, voice hushed so as to not disturb anyone. You don’t think he had work today, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed home all day, unaware of the weather.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get six inches or something. Are you on your way back?”

You groan, “I was, but the wind is ridiculous right now. I had to take shelter in some library.”

He laughs at you. “Should I pick you up?”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now honestly,” you answer.

“It’s gonna get dark if you wait it out though,” he reasons. “I’ll pick you up, I don’t mind.” You hear the jingle of his car keys when he grabs them.

“No, don’t, you can just pick me up once all the roads are safe,” you offer instead. “You know you’re not a good enough driver to handle this weather.”

“Wow. I’m gonna drive through it just to prove I can now,” he says.

“Then the next time I see your face will be in some news article explaining the crash,” you snide.

“No, it’ll be an article about all the sick wheelies and 360s I did despite the storm.”

“Yeah right,” you laugh. “How are you even gonna do that with your shitbox?” You realize you’ve been talking a little loud when you see someone’s head whip over at you. You sink into your seat in mild embarrassment.

“I’m so good I could figure out a way to make this car fly.” You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it.

“Oh I’m sure,” you say. “Alright, I’ll call you back when you can pick me up. I’m just gonna chill here ‘til then.”

“Okay. Hope they plow the roads so my shitty driving doesn’t kill us,” he says, and you know he’s doing that stupid sarcastic pout.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you reply.

“You love it.”

“I guess I wouldn’t put up with it for so long if I didn’t.” You take another look out the window to check the weather. The wind calmed down a little, but not enough to go back out. Plus, you’re comfortable right now. “Well, I’ll see you, Gyu.”

“See ya.”

As soon as the call ends, you relax further into the lounge chair. Your posture is horrid, with your back being more on the seat than it is on the back of the chair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Work was awful today: your boss scolded you about missing paperwork, a potential partnership with another company fell through, and your coworker wouldn’t stop talking about her family problems on your lunch break. Thank God tomorrow’s Friday.

You’re scrolling through Instagram when you notice a tall figure coming into your field of vision from over your phone screen. You look up and realize he’s coming closer to you. Your eyes widen for a second in panic, and you scramble to straighten your back out and look more presentable. You worry that perhaps this is a worker about to kick you out. Why? You don’t know. Maybe you’re about to find out.

You look innocently up at the man as he finishes crossing the few steps it takes to reach you. You try to ignore how cute he is. And tall. And sexy. And really, really tall—did you say tall? He’s so attractive and so your type.

“Hey, I’m sorry, could I sit here?” he ends up asking. He points to the chair furthest from you, since you took the right-most chair of the three. You’re a little stunned for a second, then you remember you have to talk.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, nodding quickly.

“Thank you. All the tables were taken,” he explains quietly, putting a bag down beside his chair.

“I know, it’s weird to see a library so full,” you say. He takes his laptop out of his bag and opens it on his lap. You think you might be watching him too closely, so you snap your head in another direction. There really is no empty table, you note as you look at all the people in the library.

“Normally it’s not. It must be because of the weather,” the man explains. You look back at him when he speaks, and a small smile finds its way onto your face when you see his bunny-like features. You’re never the type to ogle at someone like this, but he’s seriously so pretty. You can’t help it.

“I mean, I’m only in here because of the weather, so I believe it,” you say. The man smiles. You swoon.

“Makes sense. I’d remember if I’d seen you before.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

The man looks down at his laptop, as if he can’t look you in the eye when he speaks next. “Ah, no reason. I-I’m normally good with faces.”

He’s adorable. You figure this is how you can pass time until the storm is over.

“So you come here a lot?” you ask. You hope you’re not annoying him with all the conversation, but he seems happy to respond.

“I do my work here pretty much every day. I like it better than doing it from my home,” he answers.

“Oh wow, you work remotely?”

“Yep, and I get to choose my hours too. It’s a perk of the job.” He starts typing something on his laptop. You watch his diligent fingers fly across the keyboard. He has big hands. Your head is reeling a little.

“I wish my job was like that,” you say. “Well, I’ll let you work now. I don’t want to distract you.” You relax back into your chair, not realizing how close you’ve been leaning in during the conversation.

“No, I honestly like the conversation! It makes the time go by faster,” he rushes to say. You perk back up and can’t control how you beam. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear.

“I’ll make sure to keep talking in that case,” you giggle. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces, looking into your eyes kindly.

You tell him your name. “Nice to meet you,” you say.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you ask. You’re surprised at how well he can focus on the conversation and on his work. It’s impossible for you to multitask like that.

“I do software engineering for an insurance company. We just finished a major project a couple days ago, so there’s not a ton to do for the rest of the week.”

“Damn, sounds like there’s money in that.”

He laughs, “I guess so.”

“My job’s a lot less interesting than that,” you start, going on to explain your position, then about the mess of today at work, and your conversation with Soobin flows from anything to everything until you remember that Beomgyu’s waiting to pick you up. You look out the window to monitor the weather. It looks like the snow has long since stopped. The streets are plowed, only illuminated by the streetlights since it’s gotten so dark. You find yourself disappointed to have to cut the evening so short.

“Are you leaving already?” Soobin asks.

“Yeah, my friend’s gonna pick me up.” When you unlock your phone, you find that Beomgyu’s already texted you a couple times. You also find that it’s been an hour and a half since you last called him. Holy shit, the time really did fly. You open his messages to read what he sent.

[Beomgyu] are u readyyyyy

[Beomgyu] ANSWER ME WHERED U GO

You call him, and he picks up after only the first ring.

“Finally,” he said. “You had me thinking you started going back on your own or something and died.”

“Pfft, you think so lowly of my survival skills,” you respond. “You should head out now before I lose any beauty sleep.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he jokes. You hear him grab his stuff and shut the door behind him. “I hate parallel parking so just wait for me in front of the building, I’ll pull up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Gyu~” you say sweetly.

“Mhm, see you,” he says.

“See you.”

The drive is only a few minutes. You should probably head out front now. You look back to Soobin.

“Hey, thanks for the conversation,” you say. “Made my shitty day a little better.”

“Same here,” Soobin agrees. He watches you put on your coat, getting ready to leave. You don’t think he has it in him to make the next move, so you do it instead.

“You know, it would be a shame if I had to leave right now without your number…” You blush as you say it, looking off meekly for just a second, then back to him to see him giggling. (You? Make him? Giggle? Fucking score!!!)

He motions for your phone with his hand. You can’t wipe the grin off your face as you open a new contact page. You watch him insert his information.

“Let’s meet again soon,” he suggests when he hands his phone back to you.

You nod. “I’ll be in contact,” you say and wave your phone in your hand. Perhaps you’ll be making more stops to the library now.

You seem to exit the library at the same time Beomgyu arrives. You get into his car quickly to avoid the cold weather, shivering once you enter the car.

“Why isn’t your heater on?” you ask, fiddling with the buttons on the dash to turn on the heat.

“My heater barely works. It won’t even kick in before we get back home,” he explains, shutting the heat off again. You make a face at him.

“Then drive, I’m freezing,” you insist.

“I’m on it boss.” He gives you a salute.

His music plays quietly in the background of the ride. He has a nice taste in music, the type fitting for night drives.

“What’d you do today?” you ask him.

“Play League,” he says. You laugh at him, and he looks away from the road for a second to smile at you. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Why do you always make me decide?” you complain.

“Cause I don’t know what I want.”

“I don’t know what you want either, you always reject my choices.”

It’s a short drive to your apartment complex, so you arrive quickly. You rush to get inside once Beomgyu’s car is parked. The moment you open the door to your apartment, you fall flat onto the couch. You don’t care how your face digs into the cushion, it just feels nice to alleviate the day’s stress.

Beomgyu follows behind not long after. “Damn, you ran here,” he remarks. He stays at the door for a minute, probably putting all his stuff away, before he approaches you. You feel him taking your boots off your feet, which you forgot to do in your haste.

“Thanks,” you murmur into the couch cushion.

“You’re welcome.” He leaves you for a moment to put your shoes on the shoe rack by the door. When he comes back to you, he’s sliding your jacket off your arms. He folds it sloppily and plops it on the coffee table.

You turn your head so it’s facing him instead of being pressed into the couch. “What’d you decide for dinner?” you ask him.

He laughs. “Wasn’t that your job?”

“No.” You sit up with great effort. He sits on the other side of the couch and extends his legs out. You freak out when he rests his feet on you. “Nasty!!”

“I got socks on!” he exclaims in defense. You slap his feet away until he gives up and tucks his legs into his body.

“What time is it?” you ask.

Beomgyu checks his phone. “Seven.”

“I’m too tired to cook anything,” you say.

“I think we have leftovers we can just heat up,” he says, then gets up to look in the fridge and make sure. He holds a container out to you. “You want?”

Looks good enough. “Yeah,” you answer. He closes the fridge and grabs two plates.

“I’m so nice, cooking for you,” he says, portioning the food between your plates. “How long do I nuke it for?”

“Try two minutes.”

The rest of the night follows like any other: you eat dinner with Beomgyu, you watch a little TV, you get ready for bed, then you sleep. You hope a certain tall, attractive man visits you in your dreams tonight.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you walk back home from work the next day, it’s considerably better in terms of weather. Your eyes linger on the library as you pass it by, and your hand twitches around your phone. Soobin still hasn’t texted you. You’re a little disappointed, honestly. Every notification you received throughout the day made you light up, thinking it might be him. You might just put your pride aside and text him yourself at this point. You even think about walking back and waiting in the library for him, but then you’d just look weird.

When you get back home, Beomgyu isn’t there. His work schedule is so inconsistent, you never know when to expect him. He’s not a 9-5 worker like you, so you suppose that’s where the difference in flexibility comes in.

You lean against the kitchen counter and find Soobin’s contact on your phone. You open a new conversation with him, excited to talk again. You don’t think too much about your messages before you send them.

Hiiii

It’s the girl from the library

You shut your phone off after, not expecting an answer for a while. You turn on your playlist and busy yourself with getting undressed, wiping off your makeup, and showering. You go back to the kitchen once you’re finished to figure out what you’re gonna make yourself for dinner. As you’re gathering a list of ingredients in your head, your phone vibrates on the counter. You grin as you rush to look at the messages, making sure not to open the chat immediately though.

[Soobin] Hi! I’m glad you didn’t forget about me

You find yourself giggling at the message. You’ll respond in a few minutes, not wanting to seem desperate by opening it right away. You pass the time by taking out some ingredients for the meal you’ll make tonight. As you wait for your veggies to steam, you decide that now you can answer Soobin.

Forget you? How could I?

Hehehe

Wyd??

You’re in a very chipper mood, swaying around as you stir your vegetables and decide they’ve softened enough. You hum the tune of a song while you add noodles into a pot of boiling water. Your phone buzzes when you’re in the middle of making the sauce, so you try to hasten your movements. You finish pouring everything in, giving it a quick stir and making sure the heat is on low before running to your phone.

[Soobin] Drinking and watching TV lol

[Soobin] How about you?

You take a picture of your stovetop, sending your work in progress to him.

Working on my culinary creations

You’re done making your meal when he replies to that.

[Soobin] Looks yummy

You laugh and open your camera, taking a picture to send of the plated meal. You type your response immediately, not caring about waiting a few minutes between anymore.

Tastes decent

It seems he doesn’t care to wait to respond to you either, cause his next text is immediate.

[Soobin] Woah five stars

Your conversation fizzles out not long after, but you feel satisfied with it. Even as you clean your dishes, your smile doesn’t leave your face. You almost forgot how exciting it is to have a crush.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The next time you see Soobin is Monday after work at the library. You offered to hang out with him as he works, and he seemed more than happy to accept. He even asked for your coffee order so that he could bring you a cup. You need the caffeine after such a tiring day at work, you don’t care if it keeps you up until midnight. The coffee’s still hot, but not scalding, when you arrive. You take a seat in the same chair you sat in when you first met.

“Thank you for the coffee,” you say, using the disposable cup to warm your hands. Your face still burns from how cold the walk here was.

“Of course,” he replies. “How was work today?”

You shrug. “Not much to do. I almost fell asleep at my desk. What’s on your agenda for the day?”

You pretend to understand the techy language he spews back at you when he answers. You take a sip of your coffee, humming in appreciation at the taste.

“Where do you get your coffee from? This place does it so good,” you ask, trying to look at the cup for a logo.

“Actually, I get it from a cat cafe near where I live,” he answers. You gasp and look at him in awe.

“What?! Is it new? How have I never heard of it?” You always wanted to go to a cat cafe. Their delicious coffee is just a bonus.

“I don’t think it’s new, but it’s kind of secluded, and the sign is small, so it’s easy to miss.”

“You have to bring me sometime,” you insist.

“Noted,” he laughs.

It gets quiet when Soobin starts focusing on his work, which you don’t mind. You look around the library, taking in the atmosphere. Soobin was right, there are way less people here today than there were on the night of the storm. The library is warm and nice and never loses power, so it’s not a bad place to turn to, you suppose.

You turn on your phone and find a text notification from Beomgyu. You open it.

[Beomgyu] are u on ur way back

You usually tell him when you won’t be back after work, but you guess you forgot to this time. It’s reasonable for him to ask, since you’d be back home by now on a regular day. You explain yourself in a text message back.

No lol

I’m out with somebody rn

I’ll be back for dinner

[Beomgyu] nooo don’t make me cook

You snicker at his response.

Okay I’ll pick up something on my way back

[Beomgyu] muahahaha yessss

[Beomgyu] who are u with?

You think for a moment on how to answer the question. You don’t want to tell Beomgyu about a guy you’re only just starting to see. He’ll flood you with questions that you don’t want to deal with if this ends up going nowhere.

A friend you don’t know lol

You put your phone down when Soobin starts talking to you again. It’s so easy to sink into conversation with him. You find yourself asking most of the questions, liking his eagerness to explain little things about himself. You talk about yourself here and there too.

Time flies yet again, and you realize that you should be heading back home now. You remember promising Beomgyu to pick up dinner on the way back, but you’re not sure where to go. You look over at Soobin.

“Do you know any good spots for food nearby? I still gotta grab dinner,” you ask.

“Yeah, there’s a restaurant that does really good fried chicken, it’s not too far from here,” he answers, then tells you the name of the place. You commit it to memory. You’re about to thank him before he starts up again, “I’ll come with you. I haven't eaten much today.” He starts logging off and shutting down his laptop. You’re so excited at the prospect that you don’t turn him down, even though it means Beomgyu will have to wait a little longer for his food.

The walk to the restaurant is quick and filled with small talk. You get him to laugh hard at one of your jokes, and it feels better than scratching a winning ticket. At the restaurant, you sit across from him in a comfortable booth.

“This one is really good,” Soobin says, pointing to one of the options on the menu. You purse your lips and nod.

“Sounds interesting,” you say. “Normally I go for spicy chicken though.”

“The sauce is so good on it. At least try some of mine,” he insists.

The waiter comes and you order your food. As you wait for it to arrive, you figure you should ask Beomgyu what he wants from here. You send him the link to the menu online.

Lmk what you want

[Beomgyu] omgggg that place looks so good

You feel even happier with your choice to go here now. Hopefully Beomgyu won’t feel bad that you ate without him. You don’t linger on the worry, though, not when Soobin starts telling you about how his first job was at a restaurant that reminds him of this one. You lean into your palm, staring at his handsome face with a dopey smile. Maybe it’s just you, but today just feels like more proof that there’s a lot of potential between you two.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Visiting Soobin at the library becomes a common post-work habit for you. You see him another three times in the next week. There’s something about him that won’t let your heart sit still, fluttering at each little thought of the man.

Your coworkers noticed you had some more pep in your step, and you wonder if having a crush is really giving you a glow. You were just excited to get out of work and go to the library. Even Beomgyu says something when you get back home.

“Someone looks happy,” he says from the couch as you walk into your apartment. You didn’t notice how hard you were still cheesing until he mentioned it. You take off your shoes and jacket.

“Maybe a little,” you giggle. Beomgyu follows you when you walk into your room. It’s normal for him to accompany you while you get unready. He sits on your bed, and you sit at your vanity.

“What are you so smiley for?” he asks. You guess your happiness is contagious, cause when you look at him through your mirror, he’s smiling too.

“Oh, nothing…” you say, building up the anticipation. Truthfully, ever since you left Soobin today, you were planning on how you should tell Beomgyu about him. You’re excited; you haven’t had a real relationship since high school, and you feel it coming up on you now. Any day now, you’ll get the courage to ask him out. Everything has been friendly so far, but you can feel the undertone of romance behind it all.

“What? Tell me!” he exclaims. He walks over to you, standing right by you as you clean your face. “Did you get a promotion?”

You laugh, “I wish.”

“Then what?” he asks. “Is it your new friend?” You shrug and sigh girlishly. You see his smile falter a little in the mirror.

He stops guessing and just watches you take off your makeup. He stays stood next to you, entertaining himself with the little trinkets on your vanity. His silence is a little weird, but you don’t break it with conversation either.

You finish taking care of your face and get up to pull some comfier clothes from your dresser. You throw them on your bed and look over at Beomgyu. He takes the hint and turns to the wall so that you can take off your work clothes.

“Did you see the group chat?” he asks as you slide a loose shirt on. You hum in confirmation. Your friend group is planning to go out together to a nice bar tomorrow night. You even mentioned it to Soobin, gauging his reaction to see if he’d potentially come. “Did you wanna go?”

Something in your heart urges you to spill your secret now. You want to try to sound casual about it, even though you feel like you could talk on and on about Soobin. You don’t let yourself pause too long, deciding to just speak without thinking too much about it.

“Yeah, I’m thinking I’ll invite the guy I’ve been talking to recently,” you say. You’re not prepared for how Beomgyu whips his head around and looks at you like you said something insane. You finish pulling up your sweatpants quickly, but you don’t think he even notices.

“What?! What guy you’re talking to?” he asks, and you’re taken aback by how appalled he sounds.

You put your hands up. “Woah. Chill.”

“No. What are you talking about??” he pushes.

“I’ve already been talking to him for like, two weeks, it’s fine.” You figure he must be upset because he’s cautious of you being with men you barely know. That’s fair, you’re weary when your girl friends bring up new men sometimes too.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s dropped the case until he starts back up, “Is this the same person you’ve been seeing after work?”

“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy,” you answer.

“You said you were with a friend.” There’s something accusatory in his voice. You tense up as defensiveness flows through you.

“Because I was?” you say incredulously.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you came home so smitten today. I had a feeling.” He looks at you like he’s disgusted, but you can’t figure out why. It’s not like you did something wrong.

“You’re not happy for me?” you ask. He looks away and huffs out a laugh. His arms are crossed over his chest, and you’re baffled as to why he’s taking so much offense to this.

“No, I don’t know this guy,” he says.

“That’s why I’d be bringing him tomorrow.”

“Why? It’s just supposed to be us.” You sit on your bed, and he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even move from the spot he’s standing.

“Just give him a chance. I think you guys could be friends,” you suggest.

“Fat fucking chance. No way,” he refuses. Now you’re getting upset, cause why the hell can’t he at least try to hang out with the guy you just said you’re interested in? As your best friend, he should be in full support of you finding love.

“Well, I’ll talk to the others about it and see what they think.” You pull your blankets up and go on your phone, not paying Beomgyu any more attention. You hear him scoff and leave the room.

You lay on your side and replay the argument in your head. Did you bring it up wrong? Maybe you introduced the idea at the wrong moment. Maybe Beomgyu had a bad day, and he’s just lashing out at you. He never does that though, why would he start now? You’re so frustrated. You wish you knew why Beomgyu cares so much.

Whenever you see him with girls, you don’t make a big deal. You help him with what little gestures to do to make her feel special. You always give him advice. His relationships never last, though, and he hasn’t seen anyone since you two moved together over a year ago.

Throughout the three years you and Beomgyu have been friends, you haven’t dated a single person. You guess you were wrong to assume that he’d be happy to see you finally do so. Did he want you to tell him sooner? It’s only been a couple weeks, though. That’s pretty soon.

You regret saying anything now. Beomgyu might not even go to the get-together if you ruined his mood that much. Maybe you shouldn’t go. All your friends might get pissed at you the way Beomgyu did. You don’t know what the right way is to introduce Soobin.

You throw an arm over your eyes and scowl at yourself. Why are you wallowing in self-pity? Beomgyu had no right to react like that! He forgets that you can do whatever you want with your life!

The smaller voice in your head reminds you that Beomgyu has always been a good friend to you. He rarely gets upset at you, and whenever he has, he was within his right. But this time? Really? Was it justified? You almost groan in frustration. You don’t know. All you know is that you’re in dire need of talking to another girl now. You unlock your phone and open your chat with Chaewon.

Heyyy you’re going to the bar with us tomorrow right??

[Chaewon] YES!!!!

You smile at her response. You love her bubbliness. It’s impossible to feel sad when you’re talking to her.

Thank god

We should get ready together at your place

I’ll just head there right after work

You hope she takes up your offer. It would be a huge stress relief for you. It would also be a good time to gauge her reaction on Soobin, as well as her thoughts on Beomgyu’s reaction. Debriefing life—even the bad moments—is never dull with her. It’s like she always knows what to say, and she’s always got what you need to hear.

A smaller part of this is motivated by the urge to avoid another argument with Beomgyu tomorrow. If he ends up coming, great. If he doesn’t, hopefully it won’t weigh on your mind so much. You don’t want to ruin your mood right before hanging out with all your friends.

[Chaewon] Omg yes please

[Chaewon] I have the cutest dress for you

You giggle and kick your feet in the air. Maybe you should ditch Soobin and let Chaewon carry you on her arm tomorrow night instead. She’s your hero right now.

I literally love you

[Chaewon] I LOVE YOU MORE

[Chaewon] IM SO EXCITED

ME TOO!!!!

Your shoulders feel less heavy after that. You shut your phone off and let out a sigh of relief. You find yourself excited for tomorrow to come now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Luckily for you, your work day passes quickly. You speed walk the whole way to Chaewon’s place, not wanting to waste a single moment. You’re excited for tonight, thankful that everyone said they’d be able to come. You try to push back the worry that Beomgyu might not go.

You’re out of breath when you knock on Chaewon’s door. She doesn’t leave you waiting long, swinging it open with a squeal and hugging you immediately.

“How are you?” she asks as she ushers you in and shuts the door. She takes your jacket for you as you slide off your shoes. She hangs it on a cute little coat rack.

“I’m good now that I’m with you!” you say, beaming. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom.

“Let’s not waste any time, we gotta look hot before the hour’s up!” In her bedroom, she already has two small bins of makeup products on the floor. She gives you her makeup mirror and uses a smaller handheld one for herself.

“Oh, I already did my makeup,” you say, trying to hand the mirror back to her. She raises an eyebrow at you.

“You mean your work makeup?”

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask, looking in the mirror to check it. Looks fine to you.

“It’s cute, but it’s so modest. You need to look sexy,” she responds. You nod and point at her like she made a great argument.

“You’re right, let me see what you got in these,” you say as you dig through her bins. You pull out the palettes and glosses that intrigue you. She also picks some products out for you, telling you how good they’d look on you. You grab a few of your own products from your purse.

As you both start applying, you think back to Soobin. You wonder how he’ll react seeing you in non-work attire. You bite back a smile at the thought. You still have to ask Chaewon about bringing him, though. You hope that Soobin kept his schedule free for this, but also that he won’t be disappointed if you don’t end up inviting him in the case that Chaewon thinks you shouldn’t.

“I got a surprise announcement,” you start, immediately grabbing Chaewon’s attention. She looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m scared. Please don’t be pregnant,” she says.

“Well, there’s this guy…” You can’t even finish your sentence before Chaewon starts screaming. You burst out laughing, and she smacks the ground in amusement.

“Okay, okay, tell me more,” she pries once she calms down.

“His name is Soobin. He’s really cute, but also so hot. Like, Chaewon. I swear. I was drooling when I first saw him.” Her jaw is dropped open as she hears that.

“How'd you meet?” she asks.

“We met at the library a week ago and have been talking every day since,” you explain. “And girl… he does tech for an insurance company. That sounds like money to me.”

“Bring me to his mansion when you get married,” she jokes.

“Oh for sure. Imagine though,” you say.

“That’s so good for you. I could actually cry for you. You needed this.”

“Right?! See, at least you get it.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t? He sounds so good.” You pause doing your makeup to give her a pointed look. You emit an exaggerated groan and lean your head back.

“Don’t get me started,” you say.

“Well now I have to hear.”

“When I brought it up to Beomgyu, he completely freaked out. I mentioned bringing Soobin with me tonight and he just lost it.”

Chaewon scoffs. “Screw him, I wanna meet the guy! Who cares what Beomgyu thinks?!”

“I care, I don’t want him to be pissed at me,” you say, and Chaewon frowns.

“He’s just mad cause you’ll be getting it and he’ll be watching from the sidelines,” she says. You push at her shoulder and she laughs.

“You should try to set him up with someone so he gets off my ass,” you suggest, only half-joking.

“As if he’ll ever look at someone besides you.” You tilt your head upon hearing that response, not knowing what she means. She senses your confusion and continues, “I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

You rush to deny the claim, but your heart picks up in some weird sense of panic and shock. “That’s not it at all,” you say. You shake your hand frantically in denial.

“Keep telling yourself that. Why else would he freak out like that?” she asks.

“Oh my gosh… I’m not even hearing this one out,” you dismiss, locking this conversation away to never think about it again. “So, you think I should tell Soobin to come?”

“Yes! One million percent. I have got to see this handsome stranger,” she answers.

“Okay, I’ll text him once I’m done with this.”

“I haven’t been this excited in so long!” Chaewon squeals. Honestly? You either.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you find your friends’ table at the bar, you notice Beomgyu’s absence. Your heart sits heavy in your chest upon realizing that. Chaewon grabs your hand, and you wonder if you were wearing your guilt on your face. Her reminded presence is reassuring. You sit next to her at the table and greet all your friends.

“Did anyone pregame?” Aeri asks. “Cause I totally did.”

“Girl, I hope you Ubered here then,” Chaewon says.

“I drank a little, but only enough to feel a buzz,” Julie answers.

“Ayy,” Aeri cheers while high-fiving Julie.

“Meanwhile we were too busy scrambling into these dresses to think about drinking,” you say, pointing between yourself and Chaewon.

“You look hot, it was worth it,” Julie says.

“Is Beomgyu not coming?” Yeonjun asks, looking at you.

“I’m not sure. I thought he was,” you answer.

“He better,” Julie says. “The whole group hasn’t gotten together in so long!”

“Speaking of, there’s gonna be an addition to the group tonight,” Chaewon announces, shimmying her shoulders and looking at you. You roll your eyes at her with a fond smile.

“I asked this guy I’m seeing to come by tonight,” you inform, and the table erupts at the news.

“When’s he coming? I’ll give you my brutally honest opinion after seeing him,” Aeri says.

“Oh, you’ll love him,” you say. “Don’t flirt too hard, I can’t have you stealing him from me.”

“So a little flirting is okay?” she jokes. You lean over the table to swat her shoulder.

“He kinda gives shy vibes, so don’t be surprised if he’s not as energetic as us,” you say.

“Let’s just get him super drunk then,” Yeonjun suggests. The table bursts into a chorus of ‘yeahhhh’s.

“Oh hey, look who came,” Chaewon says, putting a hand on your shoulder and pointing her chin to Beomgyu walking towards your table. You hope your smile doesn’t look forced and awkward, but it feels it as he comes closer. Your eyes dart from Chaewon, to your other friends, to your hands on the table, then back to Beomgyu. Your heart pounds in fear that Beomgyu might still be mad at you. He wouldn’t come if he was that upset still, right?

He sits next to Yeonjun, and you’re holding your breath as you gauge the look on his face. He looks… happy. You release your breath slowly. He holds no anger in his eyes when he meets your gaze. A weight lifts from your shoulders.

Yeonjun slaps a hand onto Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Finally!” he exclaims.

“Hey, you think I’d miss a chance to drink with you guys?” Beomgyu responds.

“Okay, let’s get started. Should we each just open our own tab?” Julie asks.

“Yeah, that works,” you answer.

“Wait, I have no money, who wants to be my sugar mommy for the night,” Aeri says.

“You can put yours on mine,” Chaewon offers. Aeri wraps her arms around her for a quick hug in thanks.

“I will pay you back in double when I get my next paycheck,” Aeri promises.

“Ahh come on, don’t worry about that, let’s just have fun,” she responds. Chaewon pulls you up with her to go over to the bartender. Aeri follows along with the two of you. The other three probably split off on their own to figure out their orders.

The three of you take a shot for good luck first, then you work on your own drinks. You’re all giggling as you head back to your table with your drinks. Beomgyu and Yeonjun are back with their own beers, and Julie is nowhere to be seen.

“You think Julie’s drunk already?” Aeri asks the table.

“Oh, she’s been drunk. When she says she’s a little buzzed, that means she’s fucking wasted,” Chaewon says. Everyone laughs because it’s true.

You don’t know how much time passes where you guys just catch up on life and joke around, but at some point you feel your phone vibrate from a text notification. It’s Soobin.

[Soobin] I’ll be there in a minute! Please wait for me at the front so I can find you

“Guys, I gotta go grab Soobin, I’ll be right back,” you say. Everyone’s still caught up in conversation and doesn’t pay much mind to your announcement—everyone except Beomgyu. His eyebrows are upturned, eyes wide as they follow you when you stand.

You pat his head. “I’ll be back,” you reassure.

You don’t wait long by the bar door. Soobin finds you as soon as he walks in, greeting you with a hug. It takes your breath away for a second. It’s fleeting, and it’s over before you know it, but it makes your heart race.

“How have you been?” he asks. You’re standing so close that you have to bend your neck to look up at him.

“Good, better now that you’re here,” you say. He turns his head away to laugh. It’s unbearably cute. You have to stop yourself from squeezing his face in your hands.

“Do your friends know I’m coming?”

“Of course,” you answer. “They can’t wait.”

“Oh gosh,” he says, following you as you lead him to your table. It seems like Julie came back in the time you were gone, cause everyone’s there when you get back. All the girls squeal upon seeing Soobin. You give them a knowing grin.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Yeonjun greets. “Sit, sit.” He motions to the chairs on the opposite side of the table from him. You sit next to Julie, and Soobin sits next to you. Right across from you is Beomgyu. You tighten your lips when you see him looking off as if uninterested. You pray he can be amicable.

“Yeah, so, this is the boy,” you say.

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces with an air of awkwardness. It endears you.

The next few minutes are filled with your friends getting to know Soobin. They make good conversation, and Soobin responds well. Yeonjun even grabs a drink for Soobin at some point—“Be careful, he’s got plans to get you super drunk,” Julie joked—and it seems to loosen him up a bit. You just can’t help but notice how quiet Beomgyu is, though.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you announce, patting Soobin’s back as you get up.

You seat yourself on a barstool, tapping your fingers against the bar as you wait for the bartender to come to you. You hum along to the song playing.

“Hello again,” the bartender greets. You shoot your head up and smile. “Same as before?” You’re surprised he remembers your order when there’s so many people here tonight. You guess he’s just good at his job.

“Yes, please,” you say. You go back to humming and tapping to the beat of whatever song the bar is playing. You look back at your table for a second. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves. It makes you happy to see your friends get along with Soobin.

You check your phone for any important messages, but all you received was a bunch of meaningless notifications from various apps. You shove your phone into your purse so you stop looking at it. You’re here to socialize.

A hand lands on your shoulder, prompting you to look back. You were expecting it to be Soobin, but you’re not surprised when you see that it’s Beomgyu. You give him a smile as he takes the stool next to you. You look back at the bartender, and Beomgyu looks behind the two of you at the rest of the people here. Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped around you.

When your drink is handed off to you, you turn your full attention to your friend. “What’s up?” you ask. You swivel your seat so you can face him directly, forcing his arm off you. He leans into the bar, getting—probably too—comfortable.

“I just wanted to see you,” he answers.

“How’s your night going?” You take a sip of your drink, licking your lips after. His eyes follow the movement.

“Alright, I guess,” he says. He looks out to the crowd again.

“You should go dance,” you suggest.

He shakes his head. “I only like dancing with you.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” you tease. He matches your smile before stealing your drink and taking a sip from it. “Oh my god, you and your big ass gulps, all the time,” you reprimand jokingly.

“I barely drank any of it,” he defends with a pout. You laugh and pat his head to summon his lips back upward. It works immediately, of course.

“How’s everyone doing at the table?” you ask.

He shrugs. “They’re having a good time. Soobin talks a lot.” Soobin wasn’t talking that much when you were at the table, so you’re surprised to hear that. Maybe the alcohol started really coursing through his system in the short time you were gone.

“That’s good,” you respond.

“Are you going home with him?” he asks, looking at you with big round eyes. Usually Beomgyu mellows down and laughs a lot when he drinks, but this time he’s a little different.

“With Soobin?” you clarify. He nods. “Probably not. I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Beomgyu says quickly. You laugh.

“Why good?”

“Don’t want him stealing you from me.”

“You’re such a child,” you chuckle. He holds your hand over the table when you let go of your glass. It’s not abnormal for him to be touchy with you, so you don’t question it. He brings your interlocked hands up to his face and leans into them. His face feels warm on the back of your hand.

“Let me know when you wanna head to ours,” Beomgyu says. He’s being cute right now, you can’t help it when you let go of his hand so you can poke his nose. He beams at you.

“Let’s go back to the table,” you say, grabbing your drink and getting out of your seat.

“No, stay here with me.” He’s so needy. You look him up and down, assessing him.

“How much did you drink?” you ask. You swear he only had a couple beers. He ushers you back into your seat with a gentle hand on your hip. “Gyu, I can’t just leave Soobin for the rest of the night.”

“He’s having fun. Don’t mind him.”

“I brought him here though,” you reason.

He sighs, and his eyes lose their sparkle. He turns his head so he’s not facing you anymore. “Fine,” he says.

“You can’t seriously be upset with me for this?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’m not.”

You bite your tongue and decide to leave it at that, even though you know he’s lying. He’s jealous for no reason; it’s not like you’re going to abandon your best friend all because you might have a man in your life. Soobin and you aren’t even anything more than friends right now. You wish you could talk some sense into him, but you don’t want to do that in public.

Beomgyu will wallow alone for the rest of the night if you leave him now. The choice is on you: abandon Soobin at the table, or abandon Beomgyu right here. It’s not like there’s a correct option.

You look at your table. Soobin’s intently listening to Yeonjun as he rambles on about something, while the girls seem to be in a conversation of their own. Does Soobin need you right now? He seems like he’s holding his own. Your eyes fall back to the boy that definitely does.

“Beomgyu,” you call, shaking his shoulder so he’ll look at you. He does. “Let’s go home.” His smile returns immediately.

You already start thinking of what excuse you’ll text Soobin later.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up feeling suffocated by both the tight dress you’re still wearing and by half of Beomgyu’s body weight being sprawled on top of you. Curse him for insisting on watching a movie with you last night—not only is he crushing you now, but your laptop fell off the bed sometime during the night. He better pray it survived the landing. Neither of you even finished the damn movie.

You push him off of you, not caring how hard you do it because of how much of a heavy sleeper he is after he drinks. You sit up and look at yourself in your mirror. Your makeup’s a little smudged, but you don’t look totally crazy. You let yourself wake up for a minute more before sliding off the bed to check on your laptop. The screen lights up with the title card of the movie you watched. Phew. You close the device and stuff it back in the drawer of your nightstand.

You change into comfier clothes and wipe away the mess on your face. You carry on with your morning routine as usual, then lounge on the couch as you wait for Beomgyu to wake up.

The first thing you see on your phone is Soobin’s response to your text from last night. You ended up telling him that Beomgyu wasn’t feeling well, and you had to take him home. That’s not a lie, is it? Beomgyu was definitely not going to be okay if you carried on the night without him. You shake the thought and open Soobin’s text.

[Soobin] Don’t worry about it :) I had a feeling something happened

You didn’t doubt that he’d be understanding. He really is a good person.

You pass the day alongside Beomgyu once he wakes up, hanging with him in his room for most of the day. He plays his games while you go on your phone. You make dinner for the two of you, and Beomgyu cleans the dishes.

You watch him scrub at your plates from your spot at the table. You want to ask him about Soobin, but you’re nervous about him reacting poorly. You don’t want to argue again.

Beomgyu couldn’t be that immature about it though, right? If you just ask him for his opinion on Soobin, it’s not like he can really take offense to that. You’re genuinely curious, and you obviously want his approval on the guy you’re talking to. You bite the bullet and just go for it.

“So, what’d you think of Soobin?” you ask. You’re eager to hear his review, albeit a little nervous. He gives a short laugh in distaste, and your brows scrunch in confusion. “Did you not like him?”

He shuts off the sink and dries his hands after cleaning the last dish, then leans his back on the counter and stares at you with an unreadable expression, which is weird because you can normally tell exactly what he’s thinking.

When he finally responds, his face is just as indecipherable. “I don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”

“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses, and Beomgyu could see something that you couldn’t.

He sighs, “He was just… giving me bad vibes.”

“How come?” you ask.

“Just a feeling,” he explains. You groan. What a non-answer.

“Well, I think he’s super charming.” He scrunches up his face like you said something disgusting. “Stop being like that,” you scold.

“I can’t help it. It’s gross,” he says.

“Yeah okay. I didn’t say it was gross when I was helping you get a new girl every week,” you mention.

“That was years ago!” Beomgyu whines.

“Still happened.”

“That’s not a fair comparison,” he complains. “And it wasn’t every week.”

“So it’s wrong when I find one guy I like and want to be with?” you question. He groans and crosses his arms.

“Why do you even need a boyfriend right now?” he retorts. “What’s wrong with what we have?”

You pause. What the hell is he on about? Having a friend is very different from having a boyfriend. He’s completely serious, too; his face is stone.

“Um, nothing? I don’t know what that has to do with this…” you answer, unsure. He sighs and makes his way over to you, but never gives you a response.

He picks up your hand and helps you out of your chair. Is this seriously where he’s gonna end the conversation? No, you want a real answer. You’re only being left with more and more questions.

“Don’t bring me back to your room, I want to talk about this,” you say.

“There’s no point,” he responds. He might be right, but you still want to know why he’s acting like this. You take your hand back from his grasp.

“Why don’t you like Soobin?” you ask, more demanding now. You harden your stare on him, but he’s not budging. You cross your arms as you wait for an answer. “Well?”

“Why does the reason matter so much?” he asks back.

“Beomgyu, what the fuck are you saying? Why are you being so secretive?” Anger starts filling your words, you can’t help it. It’s not fair for him to shit on Soobin nonstop without telling you why. If something happened that made him form this opinion, then you want to know.

“Calm down,” he says, and it only serves to upset you further. Before you can bark at him, he continues, “I just don’t think you need to be seeing anyone right now.”

“Why?” you demand.

“Cause you have me!” he exclaims like it’s obvious.

“That’s different!”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says. You tilt your head and look at him incredulously.

“What does that even mean?” you groan.

“What do you want from him? I can give it to you instead,” he pleads. Something’s changing in the air of this conversation, something you’ve been pushing to the back of your mind for your own sanity. Chaewon’s words from yesterday rattle in the cage you mentally locked them in. You push them back, not letting them escape. That’s an impossible and crazy thought.

“Stuff that best friends don’t do with each other,” you answer plainly.

“Why not? We can. Nothing has to change,” he says.

Your head is spinning and you want to sit down. You rub your temples and close your eyes. Everything in your mind is flying by too fast for you to make sense of it. Beomgyu holds one of your shoulders, and you back away instantly.

“I think I’m gonna spend the night at Chaewon’s,” you say, defeated. You feel a serious headache coming on.

“Don’t, please,” he begs. “I’ll talk, I promise.” His eyes are watery now, and it only fuels your stress more. How did you manage to make him cry? What is going on?

“I need to collect my thoughts.” You just want to get out of this now. Beomgyu was right: this conversation was pointless. Now you’re left with more confusion than you know how to deal with.

He quickly gets on his knees in front of you, big eyes pleading to you, hands clasped over his heart. He’s going too far for this right now.

“What is wrong with you?!” you exclaim, half-frightened at the sight of your best friend acting so different in front of you. “What in the world has gotten into you?!”

You try backing away, but he wails immediately and stops you. “No!” he yelps, clinging onto your legs to keep you from moving any further. He leans his tear-soaked face onto your thigh. His skin is warm against yours, and you suddenly regret wearing such tiny shorts. You try moving away again, but your back hits the kitchen counter, and you realize you’re cornered.

“I was here first,” Beomgyu says with conviction, like that justifies his whole argument, like you’ll stop seeing Soobin just because of that.

“Can we talk about this like adults?” you ask. He looks up at you with those watery wide eyes, and you can’t help but feel your heart ache a little. You soothe him with your touch, running a hand through his hair and down his face, collecting his tears. He leans into your touch and wears the most pitiful frown you’ve ever seen.

“Please,” he begs quietly. “You don’t need anyone else, you have me.”

“Gyu, get up,” you say, trying to keep your voice authoritative but gentle.

He doesn’t, of course. “Tell me what to do,” he insists instead.

“I just did.”

He scowls at that and nips at the flesh of your thigh. You jolt in surprise and pull his head back by his hair. He winces in pain for a second, then looks up at you like a puppy.

“Behave,” you warn, and he smiles like he’s getting what he wants.

“I will, I’ll be good, tell me what to do,” he pleads again. He looks delirious off of this. It twists your stomach and makes you release your hold on his hair. He immediately goes back to your thighs, licking a short stripe up it, reaching the hem of your shorts. You gasp as your legs twitch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

“I can’t be doing this,” you say, and Beomgyu rolls his eyes in annoyance. You get another nip to the thigh, harsher this time. “Enough with that,” you tell him, swatting at his head.

“So you get a boyfriend and suddenly I can’t be close to you anymore?” he spits bitterly, angrier now. He stands back up, crowding you with his proximity. You hate how you immediately feel like you have less power. A part of you wants him back on his knees.

“We are still close.”

He scoffs at that. “Yeah right. It’ll be different now and you know it.”

“Well now it’s gonna different, since you put on that whole fucking show!” you argue, swinging an arm out in disbelief.

His brows are drawn together, and he looks at you furiously. “I can’t just sit back and watch another man have you in whatever way he pleases.”

“We’re friends, Beomgyu! That’s it!” you exclaim. You don’t bother correcting his assumption about Soobin ‘having’ you. “No amount of confessions is gonna erase Soobin from my life just like that.”

He clenches his jaw and stares at you silently for a few long seconds. The tension is so palpable and thick, you don’t even dare to breathe. He grabs your wrist and brings you down the hall, into your room. He lays you on your bed with a gentleness that doesn’t match the anger on his face. You know where this is going, you’re not stupid. You should stop this. You need to stop this.

Words get caught in your throat. You should speak, you should yell at him. You should shove him away and put him in his place. This is too far, too much.

You don’t stop him when he crawls onto the bed with you. You don’t stop him when you see the hunger in his eyes as he scans your frame. You wouldn’t stop him no matter what he does right now, your guilty conscience snides.

Your core clenches when Beomgyu brings himself down to hover over you. He remains wordless, just examining your every feature. You’re scared you’ll give away too much and let him in on your desire, but a darker part of your mind hopes that he catches it. Fire builds in your stomach as the moment drags on.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispers. He’s so close that you feel his breath on your face. You stay quiet. He traces up your jaw with the tip of his nose, smiling when your breathing stutters.

He pulls away a bit, just enough to stare at where your hips almost meet. You’d just have to push forward a few inches to close the gap, but you hold back. His hand finds your hip, thumb rubbing you comfortingly.

“Tell me what you need,” he tries again. You bite back a whimper at the deepness of his voice. He laughs at how you still don’t respond. “You this quiet with Soobin too?”

That pisses you off and brings you out of your haze. “No, I give him whatever he wants.” It’s a lie, but you mostly say it to piss him off, and clearly you’ve struck a nerve judging by how he grits his teeth.

“I’m trying to be good for you,” Beomgyu says. He grips onto your waist tight. “I’m showing you I’d do anything for you.”

“Soobin does that just fine,” you say pointedly. Neither of you are amused, and the moment is laced with venom from both sides now.

You gasp when Beomgyu suddenly takes your thighs and pulls them up toward your body, exposing your clothed pussy to him. You try to shut your legs, but Beomgyu’s hold is too strong and doesn’t budge. He smirks when his eyes land on the damp spot over your core.

“Does Soobin make you soak through your shorts like this too?” he taunts. Before you can even think of a smart reply, he’s bending you even further, bringing your knees to the sides of your head. He has you folded firmly in half, and it feels so demeaning, but it makes you so wet. He laughs at the sight of you, slack-jawed and speechless.

You’re fully-clothed but feel so exposed. Your heart is beating erratically. You’re starting to shake from how worked up you are; you ache for him to do something.

“No, he doesn’t, does he?” he continues, and you whine. “You can pretend all you want that he’s the man of your dreams, but you know he’ll never compare to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t respond to that. You’re too far gone in your lust to trust yourself to talk; you’ll end up saying something you regret. Beomgyu finally releases his grip on your legs, and you feel all your arousal leaking out of you as soon as your hips fall back on the bed.

“You don’t wanna tell me what to do? That’s fine. I can read you like a book. I know what you want,” Beomgyu says before grabbing your hand and placing it over your cunt. You immediately grind into it, losing yourself in the stimulation. He smiles deliriously at the sight, running his hands soothingly up your sides. “That’s it, now you’ve got it. Now you’re being good.”

One of his hands leaves you, the other helping to keep your legs spread. When you focus your attention back on him, you see him pulling his dick out and stroking himself. He spits in his hand before wrapping it around his length again, and you moan at the sight. He looks delicious.

His eyes are wild as they try to take in every part of you. It’s hard to keep yours open, but you want to watch him as much as you can. Something like this can never happen again, so you need to take it in.

You work your hand faster over yourself when you see him tug at his length with more fervor. His mouth drops open when he moans. He looks so pretty, making a mess out of himself. The sight is addicting, him panting and kneeling over you. You never thought about him like this before, but now thoughts this lewd will plague you.

“Gyu,” you whine, trying to find the perfect rhythm to get yourself off, but you need more. He senses your urgency and gets his hand off his dick in favor of grabbing your wrist. He plunges your hand past your shorts and panties, guiding it to your core. You gasp at how crude the action is. He bites his lip as he takes your two middle fingers and forces them into your fluttering hole. You moan at the intrusion, which was made so easy thanks to how embarrassingly wet you are. The slick sounds of your cunt fill the air, loud and filthy.

Beomgyu wraps his hand around your wrist again to control your movements, pacing the way you fuck yourself. It feels so scandalous and so hot, you find yourself getting worked up quickly. He makes you fuck yourself with vigor, and the way your palm meets your clit with each thrust has your mouth falling open. You stay in the rhythm he set even as he pulls away to fuck his fist again. His grunts and moans are shameless, and they’re like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty, you’re a dream,” he rambles, clearly teetering on the edge. He squeezes the meat of your thigh, then your hips, then palms your ass. “Are you gonna cum, my angel? Are you gonna let me see how pretty you look when you fall apart?”

“Yes, please,” you answer breathlessly, back arching into the feeling. Beomgyu bites down his smirk and runs his hand down the outside of your thigh.

“Wanna see it so bad, fucking dreamed of this.” You can feel the mattress shake from how hard he’s fucking his fist. His grip is bruising on your thigh, and he moans when he feels you jolt in pleasure. “Yeah, keep fucking yourself like that. So perfect.”

You moan out as you finally cum, clenching down on your fingers and throwing your head back as the sensation takes over you. You hear him whine, and it makes you tighten even more around your fingers, dying to hear it again.

“So good, so good for me,” Beomgyu praises in a shaky voice. You can tell his high is approaching. “Look so b-beautiful.”

“Cum for me, Gyu, let go,” you urge, making him moan out again. You slip your fingers out of your cunt but keep your hand over it, fingers ghosting over your clit as you watch Beomgyu lose himself. The slight overstimulation is delicious, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering at the feeling.

“Have I been good to you?” Beomgyu asks, out of breath as he squeezes the base of his cock. He strokes himself slowly once he regains his composure.

“So good, felt so nice,” you answer, feeling blissful after your orgasm.

“Yeah? Better than Soobin?” he asks, increasing his speed again. You can’t even scold him before his motor mouth starts running again. “Could fuck that little pussy so much better than him. Make you feel so good. Make you forget about him.”

He pushes your shirt up with his free hand, and before you can even react to that, he’s pushing up your bra too. “Oh my god, Beomgyu!” you exclaim, pulling your hand from your pussy to cover your tits. Beomgyu yanks your arm away and brings your fingers to his mouth. You stare at him in shock as he sucks your juices from your digits, diligently swirling his tongue around them. He’s moaning around your fingers, and a second later he’s spilling his load onto your stomach and breasts. Your mouth drops open. He’s got a lot of nerve doing all that; unfortunately for you, it was the hottest thing you have ever seen.

He takes your hand out of his mouth once he’s cleaned your fingers off, whimpering as he rides out the last of his high. He looks down hungrily at your body, taking in the ropes of his cum splayed on your skin. Like the horny freak he is, he sticks his fingers in the mess and smears it all over your torso.

“Gross,” you laugh. He ignores that. He tugs at your nipples with his cum-coated fingers. You yelp at the sensation, and he coos at you. He does it again, and again, until he’s had enough of his fun. He stares into your eyes, and you wish you could crawl away from his heated gaze, it’s that intense. His thumbs return to tease your nipples, but he doesn’t pull his eyes away from your own.

“You’re mine. Never see him again,” Beomgyu declares like it’s final.

“We’re meeting tomorrow,” you respond. He pinches your nipple harshly for that.

“Why? Cancel. Just stay with me,” he offers instead. You try to get up onto your elbows, but Beomgyu pushes you back down against the bed. He continues absentmindedly playing with your tits. He’s practically sitting in your lap to do so.

“…Can you wipe your cum off of me?” you ask, ignoring the conversation at hand.

“But I’m having so much fun.” He pouts. He’s cute like this.

“I let you have enough fun today,” you say with no real bite. He sighs like it will kill him to do so before getting off the bed and leaving for the bathroom. He comes back a minute later with a wet towel, and it’s peacefully quiet as he wipes you down.

“He’s not even really my boyfriend, you know,” you mention, watching his focused face as he rids you of the mess he made.

“Sure,” he laughs bitterly. “Tell him that.”

“We never made anything official,” you say.

“Then why’s he parading around telling everyone how you’re his girl?” Beomgyu asks, giving you a hard stare. You pull your bra and shirt back down once he finishes cleaning you, trying to feel a little more decent. He throws the used towel on the floor and crawls in bed next to you.

You perk up at that. “He is? How do you know?”

He stares straight ahead instead of at you. “You don’t gotta sound so excited.”

“I’m just curious,” you defend.

“Right,” he says, not believing you. “Yesterday at the bar he said it. Multiple times.” Did he? You hold in your gasps and squeals and suppress the urge to kick your feet. Maybe you were too drunk to remember, or maybe Soobin was saying it while you were away from the table. Or maybe Beomgyu’s just psychotic and putting words in Soobin’s mouth.

“Wow,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

A few silent moments pass where you find yourself filling the time by trying to ignore Beomgyu’s stare on you. He turned to his side at some point and seems to find you to be the most interesting thing in the room. You try to focus on your nails, the walls of your room, your disorganized vanity, but nothing lifts his stare from you. You give in and turn your head to him, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well?” you prompt.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now… you get out of my room,” you say, holding eye contact and keeping your expression still. His face falters immediately.

“Are you joking?” he asks incredulously, backing away from you with a scoff, propping himself up on his elbows.

“This shouldn’t have happened, Gyu,” you say with a sigh. You know it hurts him—it hurts you, too—but you can’t do this while you’re seeing Soobin. You’ve already crossed the line.

Beomgyu is silent and unmoving. After a minute, it becomes clear he’s not leaving. You don’t know if it’s out of stubbornness or desperation. He lays back down and curls himself into you, tucking his face in your neck and holding you tight.

“Beomgyu,” you warn, but to no avail. He stays there and nuzzles further into you, and you’re so pathetic that you just let him. A stronger woman than you would have put her foot down, but that kind of power doesn’t find you in this moment.

Another long minute passes, consisting of you staring straight at the ceiling, listening to your combined breathing. You think of how Soobin would feel if he found out about this. How are you going to look him in the eye tomorrow? Do you tell him about this? Is it wrong to keep it a secret?

You try to pull away from Beomgyu, but he doesn’t let you move. “Please, Beom—“

“Stop,” he murmurs, putting his hand over your mouth just long enough to get you to stop talking. “Let me have this one night. He gets you every other time.”

You can’t help but feel a little aggravated at that. “Because he’s the one I’m seeing! This is wrong!”

“What’s wrong is you looking for other men when I’m right here,” he says with finality. When you don’t respond, he continues, “So let’s just go to sleep.”

You decide to let him win this time, telling yourself that this will never happen again. Sleep doesn’t find you easily with the guilt eating you alive, but it does feel kind of nice to have Beomgyu hugging you like this again.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you wake up, Beomgyu’s already gone. You let out a sigh of relief. You feel bad for not wanting to see him, but you know that last night changed things. There’s a conversation that needs to be had that you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You sit up and stretch, then check the time and notice that it’s already nearly 10. Your eyes go wide, horrified—you’re supposed to see Soobin at 10! You have less than twenty minutes to get ready!

You leap out of bed and run to your closet, looking for a cute dress to throw on cause you have no time to curate an outfit. Once you have the dress selected, you hold it in front of you in the mirror. The fabric is super soft and looks casual enough while still being pretty. The light color of it looks great on you, too.

You don’t have enough time to linger on your options, so you go with it. You fold the dress and run to the bathroom to finish freshening up and getting ready. You need to take the quickest shower of your life.

You’re rushing out the door once everything’s complete, cursing at yourself as you check the time. It’s already ten minutes past. You shoot him a text as you scramble down your apartment’s stairs.

Hey! I’m gonna be a bit late, leaving now

Forgot to set an alarm, my bad

Wait for meeee

You shove your phone in your jacket pocket and speed walk down the street. You’re lucky enough to live near the heart of the city, so everything is at walking distance. You’re halfway to the cafe when you feel your phone buzz with a response.

[Soobin] No worries. I’m waiting :)

[Soobin] Gives your coffee some time to cool down

You smile at the response. Of course he already bought your coffee. Of course he memorized your order. It’s Soobin, he’s the most thoughtful guy you’ve ever known. Your phone buzzes with another text notification. This time it’s Beomgyu.

[Beomgyu] omg where’d you go i got stuff for breakfast!!!

Your heart squeezes at the prospect. You rush to type out your responses.

I said I was meeting Soobin today

I’m sorry

Brunch?

You slow down your walking, finding yourself nearing the destination too quickly. You just want to get Beomgyu’s response before seeing Soobin. Your phone buzzes when he replies.

[Beomgyu] hmm.. ok brunch

You don’t find yourself excited, though. You guys do things like this all the time, but now you’re just nervous. It makes your stomach churn with anxiety. You know things have changed. Even if he acts like nothing happened, you both know something did.

You shove your phone into your pocket when you arrive at the cute little cat cafe. You wipe the sweat off your palms before opening the door. You try collecting yourself before looking for Soobin, who’s sitting at a small table near the front of the shop. You smile when you see him, but it’s only half-genuine; the other half of your mind is busy trying to push down your worries about Beomgyu.

You seat yourself across from Soobin, who smiles widely and fully-genuinely at you. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” you apologize. “Thank you for the coffee.”

His smile stays on his face as he watches you grab the cup and feel for its temperature. “It should be good to drink now,” he says. “I had company, the cats were coming to me.”

You laugh before taking a sip of your coffee. It’s the best thing in the world, you’re grateful he got it in advance for you. The hot drink eases your mind a bit. You look around the cafe until you spot a cat. It’s a fluffy black and white one, perusing around lazily.

“That one is so mean, don’t pet it,” Soobin says, following your gaze. He brings your attention to a different cat with a pointed finger. “The orange one sunbathing there is the best.”

“Oh yeah? You’re an orange cat fan?” you ask.

“I think you’d like that one,” he says. As if the cat could hear that, it gets up and starts walking toward you.

“Look at you, cat whisperer,” you joke. The way his face scrunches when he laughs makes your heart flutter. The orange cat brushes up against your legs when it finds you, and you immediately coo at it. “Hello, sweetie! Can I pet you?” you say, bringing down your hand for it to accept. The cat rubs its head against you, and you pet it lovingly.

“So you’re more of a cat person?” he asks. You look up from the cat to pay attention to him.

“I like all animals,” you say.

“What’s your favorite?”

You think for a second. “Should I say bunnies because you look like one?” you giggle.

“That’s a good answer,” he laughs with you.

“What would have been a bad answer?”

He looks up in thought and leans his face on his palm. “Maybe a mole or something?”

“Hey, I like moles,” you say.

“You like all animals.”

“What a good listener.”

“It’d be a little sad if I forgot something you said just a minute ago,” he responds.

“Men are like that,” you joke. You feel your phone buzzing with a call notification. “Sorry, let me check this.”

Why the hell is Beomgyu calling you?! You told him you were with—you roll your eyes. That’s why he’s calling you. He’s so petty and childish. You shove your phone back in your pocket.

“No one important?” Soobin asks.

“It’s Beomgyu,” you answer.

“Ah, you should answer then,” he reasons.

“I’m sure it can wait,” you dismiss.

“I need to go to the bathroom anyway, you can call while I go.” He smiles as he gets up.

You don’t really want to, but as you watch him walk away, you’re stuck sitting alone with nothing better to do. With a sigh, you unlock your phone and open your messages with Beomgyu.

What’s up

His response is immediate.

[Beomgyu] when are u coming back

You hold your head and groan at his antics. It’s been ten minutes and he’s acting like you’ve been gone ten days.

Whenever we’re done

Maybe an hour

He calls you again. Reluctantly, you answer. “What?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he says.

“No, you just want my attention. It’s one hour, I think you’ll live.”

“I think I won’t,” he counters. So annoying. You find yourself laughing for some reason, though. You see Soobin coming back, and you quickly fix your posture and tuck your hair back. That was fast.

“I gotta go,” you say abruptly. Beomgyu doesn’t get a word in before you hang up. He texts you his final words instead.

[Beomgyu] UR SO MEAN

Soobin sits back down in front of you. “What’d he say?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” you answer.

Soobin laughs. “Is that usual for him?”

“Always,” you groan.

After a moment, Soobin finds a new topic. “So what kept you up so late that you slept in so much?”

You freeze at the question. You have all of one second to decide if you’re going to spill the truth, or if you’re about to lie to his face. It would be the right thing to do to be honest with him…

“Beomgyu and I were hanging out,” you decide on saying. It’s technically true, but it feels like a cover-up rolling off your tongue.

You try to reason with yourself. You didn’t have sex. You got yourself off, with your own hand, and you didn’t touch him at all. The most he did was a little titty touching… so what? That’s so high school. It doesn’t even count.

You wonder if it would fool Soobin, cause it’s not fooling you.

“Oh, must’ve been fun then,” Soobin says. “Hopefully you can catch up on some sleep tonight.”

He’s so kind. You feel so gross. You don’t deserve him. Your smile doesn’t meet your eyes.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Soobin asks.

“I’m doing brunch with Beomgyu after this,” you answer.

“Wow, you spend a lot of time with him,” he comments. You don’t know why you feel a little offended at that.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since our senior year of high school. We moved to the city together, so we’re roommates.”

“Must be nice. I came here alone, so it was a little hard at first,” Soobin says.

“How so?” You’re honestly glad to shift the questions towards him for a bit. You like learning about him, and you hate how you always seem to end up talking about Beomgyu.

“I’m really shy, so making friends took a long time,” Soobin answers. “I’ve been here a few years now, though, so I made a decent community.”

“That’s nice. What’d you think of my friends on Friday?” you ask. “I heard you get chatty when you drink.”

He laughs and scratches his neck shyly. “Your friends were nice. I don’t think Beomgyu was very interested in talking to me though.”

You conceal your groan. Why does it keep coming back to Beomgyu?! You wish last night never happened so you could feel normal about this conversation. Even then, though, it wouldn’t erase how Beomgyu acted before that.

“Yeah, I don’t know, I’m sorry. Must’ve caught him on a bad day,” you excuse.

“Maybe. He seemed fine talking to you, though…” he mumbles, and you can tell that it’s bothering him. Now you really feel like shit. Any attempt you make to comfort him would be a lie after what you let happen between you two.

You grab Soobin’s hand, making his head pop up from where he was looking down all sullenly. “Thank you for coming that night. It means a lot that you met my friends,” you say. That puts a smile back on his face.

“Guess I gotta introduce you to mine now,” he says.

“I’d love that!”

“I’ll plan a day. How busy are you this month?” he asks.

“Not super,” you answer. You go on to ask about his friends, listening to him as diligently as you can while ignoring your phone buzzing in your pocket with text after text. You can guess who they’re from.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get back home, you find Beomgyu already near the door waiting. He lights up, but you’re not amused.

“That texting and calling shit needs to stop,” you say, looking him dead in the eye.

He pouts and points at the table. “I made us food. It was gonna get cold.” You look at the table. He set up the dishes all cute, with plates of meats and pancakes in the middle alongside a bowl of berries. You sigh.

“We could’ve made it together when I came back,” you mention, but the fight leaves your voice. You wish you weren’t so endeared by him. You’re so weak, it makes you curse at yourself in your head. You sit at the table and pile some food onto your plate. He sits across from you and does the same.

You’re not sure what to talk about. You feel your skin heating up as you remember what happened the last time you were with Beomgyu. He must be thinking about it too. Maybe arguing about Soobin would be better than dealing with the awkwardness you feel right now.

You take a quick glance at him. He’s smiling and swaying around as he chomps down on his food. If he notices your discomfort, you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. You try to focus on your food instead of him as much as you can.

Usually Beomgyu is the only person you feel like you can do anything around, but right now you’re second guessing every little thing you do. Did you stare at him too long? Should you not check your phone right now? Where should you be looking? Does he know you’re overthinking this right now?

“I hope this is better than whatever you just did with Soobin,” he says, breaking the silence. You stop eating for a second to give him a disapproving glare. That’s one way to cut through your thoughts.

“You need to stop being so jealous,” you say. His neediness is being turned up to 100, and you don’t know how to deal with it. Whatever he thinks he’s doing is only going to drive you away from him.

“Well, I have to fight for your attention now,” he explains. You roll your eyes.

“No you don’t, I still spend most of my time with you.” It’s ridiculous that he thinks you’d just drop him like that. You literally live with him, you can’t avoid him. His insecurities are getting the best of him, and it’s changing your relationship with him.

“But soon you’ll spend it all with him, and I’ll have no one,” he says like he can see it all already. Gosh, seriously? His brows are upturned and the slightest frown mars his face. Why must he try to break your heart?

“Where’d you get that idea? I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always be the most important person in my life,” you reassure him. He looks down like he can’t stand to make eye contact anymore. His shoulders slump.

“I just have to make sure you don’t forget me,” he mutters. He keeps his eyes down. You sigh.

“I won't forget you. Can’t you just trust me? I’m telling you you’ll always be my number one. What more do you want to hear?” you ask.

He meets your eyes again. They still look sad. His lack of response puzzles you; he always has so much to say. You stay staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, until you pull your gaze away, unable to handle it.

You know you’re not in the wrong here. It’s not abandonment to just see another guy. He looked so pitiful, though. It would’ve hurt less to see him get angry and yell at you. He can’t really help how he feels, and you suppose it is a big change. What does he want you to do, though? Well, stop seeing Soobin. But you’re not going to do that.

You go to your room without another word, needing to leave his presence. It murks your mind and leaves you unable to think clearly. You text Chaewon to come over when she’s free. You just need to get your mind off of whatever’s developing between you and Beomgyu.

When her knock sounds at your door hours later, you run to open it, excited to finally talk to someone who won’t give you a headache. She holds up a grocery bag full of your favorite snacks, smiling ear to ear. You make a mental note to splurge for her next birthday; she always treats you so well.

You usher her to the couch and offer her a drink. She turns on the television and finds something to play in the background. Once you’re both situated, you open one of the snack bags and throw a blanket over the two of you.

“What did you do this weekend?” you ask her.

She doesn’t look away from the television when she answers, “Julie and I went to a spa.”

“Oh my god, and you didn’t invite me?!” you say in faux offense, although you definitely would have liked to go.

She laughs and points at the bag of food in your lap. “I made up for it with those.”

“You still owe me a day out,” you joke.

“I know, I’m thinking we’ll go to an amusement park in the spring. You down?” she asks.

“Oh, for sure,” you confirm. You go quiet for a bit, captured by the show Chaewon put on. The two of you make your own commentary on the characters and their decisions. You share looks when something crazy happens, and burst out laughing when Chaewon’s prediction about one of the plot lines comes true.

This is the stress relief you needed. You already feel lighter and happier. Good thing you asked Chaewon to come over. During a commercial break, Chaewon turns to you.

“Okay, I have to ask, how are things with Soobin?” Chaewon asks. The question doesn’t irk you, partially because it’s not Beomgyu asking it, but mostly because Chaewon put you in a better mood.

“It’s going good with him,” you say. You look down the hall to make sure Beomgyu’s door is shut. Talking to Chaewon about this might actually clear things up for you. She always has good advice.

“Tell me more,” she prompts, leaning in with a grin.

“Well, we went to a cafe today”—Chaewon cuts you off with a delighted ooooo—“and it went really well. He wants me to meet his friends next.”

Chaewon gasps. “You’re halfway into boyfriend territory now!”

Ugh. “About that…” you start.

“Uh oh,” Chaewon lets out.

“I really, really like Soobin, it’s just”—you shut up immediately once you hear Beomgyu’s door open. There’s no way he heard you, not unless he was intentionally listening in, and if he did, is he ballsy enough to come out and argue with you now? With Chaewon right here? You hold your breath.

He walks into the kitchen, and you let yourself breathe again. You watch him carefully. He opens the fridge. It’s a little early for dinner, so he’s probably just looking for a drink or a snack.

“Hey! Talk to me about that sexy tall man!” Chaewon says, bringing your attention back to her. You laugh nervously.

“Let’s talk about you, actually,” you say in attempt to shift the conversation. “How was your spa day with Julie?”

“We had fun, but it was nothing more important than Soobin updates!” she assures. She’s talking so loud, you flinch thinking about Beomgyu listening in.

“I don’t think we should talk about him right now,” you say, eyeing Beomgyu’s figure in the kitchen. You release your breath when you notice he’s still distracted in his search through the fridge.

“Girl… what,” Chaewon deadpans, following your gaze. She looks back at you, brows scrunched. You share a glance, and she puts two and two together. “You’re kidding me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

“He is so ridiculous,” Chaewon complains, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I know, but I can’t talk about it right now. Later, please,” you continue in a hushed voice. Beomgyu settles on an energy drink, closing the fridge and advancing toward the two of you. You pray Chaewon drops it.

“Hey Chaewon. Whatcha guys up to?” he asks as he lingers by where you sit on the couch. You look to Chaewon with pleading eyes. Hers are unamused and disappointed.

“Just talking,” she answers, her voice lacking any emotion. Beomgyu nods.

“Cool. What’s on TV?” he asks.

“Some crime show Chaewon likes,” you respond. It’s quiet for a minute, and you’re trying not to feel antsy. Beomgyu definitely didn’t hear your conversation about Soobin, but you can’t shake the reaction Chaewon had. You were just about to tell her how Beomgyu’s been acting, but now the conversation will have to wait.

When Beomgyu takes a seat next to you, you know that you won’t be able to talk to Chaewon about Soobin until the next time you see her. He puts his arm on the couch behind you and gets himself comfortable. It’s not like you’re going to ask him to leave, so you just lean into his side. You might as well make use of his warmth.

The three of you watch a couple more episodes of Chaewon’s show, and after some time your anxiety leaves you. It feels like a normal hang out, not like you’re in between your best friend you just got intimate with and your other best friend who has no clue.

“Are you having dinner here?” you ask Chaewon. She shakes her head.

“I think I’m gonna head out now, actually. I’ve got a few things to do,” she says. She gets off the couch. “But you need to come over tomorrow, ‘kay?” She points at you. You already know it’s because she wants to finish the conversation you started before Beomgyu came in. It must’ve been pestering her mind.

“I will,” you say. You get up from the couch to hug her. “Thanks for coming over.” You walk with her to your door.

“Love you, see you tomorrow!” she exclaims, waving.

“Love you too!!” You wave back.

Once Chaewon’s out the door, you return to Beomgyu on the couch. You lean your head on the armrest and fold your legs so they’re not resting on Beomgyu.

“I don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” you complain. He laughs.

“When do you ever?” he asks.

“Fridays, cause there’s donuts,” you answer. He tugs on your legs to pull you closer to him. Your shirt rolls up a bit as he drags you down the couch, but he fixes it for you.

“Call out sick or something,” he suggests.

You groan, “I only get, like, seven sick days.”

“You should skip and we should go to the shopping center.” You hit his chest with your knee at his offer. He smiles down at you.

“The difference in maturity levels between us is crazy,” you say.

“I keep you young,” he jokes.

“Bitch, we’re the same age.” You hit his chest again.

Your phone buzzes on the table in front of you, but before you can sit up to check the notification, Beomgyu flips the device so it’s facing down.

“Who texted me?” you ask.

“No one,” he answers. “What do you want for dinner?”

You hum in thought. “I’m not really hungry honestly. I filled up on Chaewon’s snacks.”

“Same.” It falls silent, so you grab your phone and finally check your notifications.

“You liar, you said no one texted me,” you say, reading your text notification from Soobin.

He wears a mischievous smile. “Oops. Must’ve read it wrong.”

“Yeah right,” you say. You open your phone, going to respond to Soobin until Beomgyu takes your phone from your hands. “Hey!”

He shuts off your phone and puts it in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Talk to me instead of going on your phone.” You scowl at him, who looks back at you with a teasing grin. Asshole.

“Give me back my phone,” you order, hand reaching out for him to place it in. Instead, he takes you by the hand and drags you into his lap, laughing when you yelp.

“Why don’t you take it?” he offers, looking down at his pelvis.

“I’m not digging in your pants to get my phone back,” you say.

“Will you dig in my pants for other reasons?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You bite down your smile and smack his arm.

“You wish, freak.”

He snickers, running his hands up your arms. “I do wish.”

You’re acutely aware of the tension starting to build in the room, and you can’t deny how you’re getting excited in the heat of the moment. This is innocent enough, right? You’re just being playful with each other. Just because you’re starting to feel a little worked up doesn’t mean you’ll act on it.

You move your hand slowly down his chest, traveling down his torso, making your way down to the pocket of his sweatpants. He stares at you with big dumb eyes, and you hold back your laughter. You pry open his pocket, sliding your hand in and retrieving your phone, letting the weight of it drag across his thigh as you pull it out from the fabric.

“Got it,” you whisper, a winning smile on your face. You throw your phone behind you on the couch. You don’t know why you don’t move from your position, though. Maybe it’s the satisfaction you feel at watching his mouth fall just the tiniest bit open at your actions.

His hands grab your waist, thumbs lifting up your shirt just the tiniest bit, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He brings you forward on his lap, moving you even closer to him, and your eyes widen when you feel his half-hard length beneath you.

“Gyu?” you say, searching his eyes. He looks drunk off this moment, and he doesn’t bother to hide his lust. It’s evident all over his face, from his lidded eyes to his bitten lip. “Maybe we should”—

“Do you wanna ride me like this?” he interrupts, hands moving to your hips so he can guide them into a slow grind. You gasp at the sensation, not realizing how aroused you’d gotten. You feel him hardening below you the more you sway your hips over him. You feel dizzy.

You drop your head in his neck and let out a shaky exhale, letting him control your movements. God, this is so wrong. You’re doing this again? You’re really bad at keeping your own promises. But fuck, when your clit catches on the head of his cock, even through all the clothes, it feels like heaven. You can’t even think about how you should stop.

He slides your hair to one side of your neck and kisses the side he bared. “Good girl,” he praises, keeping your hips in a slow rhythm that has your brain malfunctioning. You whine, and your thighs twitch and tighten around him.

Beomgyu’s rock hard now, and you wish he didn’t feel so sinfully good. He presses his hips further up against you, and the added pressure makes you moan out before you can hold it back. He laughs and scatters wet kisses onto your neck.

“Look at you,” he says, voice so low it makes you shiver. “Pretty little thing getting herself off on my lap, creaming her pants for me. Cute girl.” He hastens your rhythm for you and holds you down tighter against him. You gasp and cling onto his shirt.

“Gyu, Gyu, please,” you stammer, feeling your high approaching.

“I know, sweet girl.” He matches your rhythm with his own hips now, making your toes curl.

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe out, moving yourself even faster over him, losing yourself as you chase your orgasm.

“Yes, fuck, cum for me, I need to see it,” he insists, watching you spasm and shake over him. He moans out at the sight, and the sound is what brings you over the edge. You feel his dick twitch as you ride out your high, and you realize he came in his pants too. The thought makes your head spin.

You slow down as you begin to come down, holding his face in your hands. You wear a dopey smile, and he looks just as fucked out. You’d like to ruin him one day, to see him beg for pleasure and get more than what he can take. He has a pretty face for things like that.

Your hips still over him completely, and Beomgyu connects his mouth to your jaw. He sucks on your skin there, and you push his head away. “No marks,” you tell him. He nods quickly and goes back to licking and kissing and sucking your skin.

He trails his kisses down to your neck, lapping at every inch of skin he has access to. He’s messy with his tongue, coating you in his saliva. It’s so filthy, but it has your core pulsing again. You don’t know why he has this effect on you.

You jolt when you feel his teeth on your neck, biting down and sucking hard. It makes your hips push forward, and he moans against you. You’re not too far gone to let him get away with that, at least.

“Are you serious?” you scold, pulling Beomgyu away by his hair. He kisses your cheek, just barely missing your lips. You gasp, flustered.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, breathlessly. He lays you down on the couch and lifts up your shirt and bra. He decides to connect his mouth to what he reveals there instead. He swirls his tongue around your nipple and sucks, squeezing and fondling your other tit with a hungry hand. You whine out when he just barely scrapes his teeth against the bud, fueling the heat in your core. He switches sides so that he can suck your other breast, delivering wet kisses to it.

His free hand travels up your thigh and stops just inches from your cunt. He swipes his thumb lazily over your inner thigh, so close you can feel it ghost your center. It’s getting you desperate for relief. You close your thighs around his hand, and it brings him right to your core. He moans against your chest at the collision. You wonder if he can feel your wetness through your thin pajama pants.

He rubs his hand against your cunt, moving slow enough to keep you wanting more. He detaches his mouth from you and stares at how your hips gyrate against him. He bites his lip and presses his fingertips harder against you, teasing your entrance through your clothes.

“Oh my god,” you moan, throwing your head back.

“Fuck, let me finger you,” he insists, bringing a thumb to your clit. Your head is spinning from the pleasure. “I need to, I’ve got to feel you.” You feel his bulge on your thigh, heavy and hard. You cry out. You feel your moral ground starting to slip.

“Take off my pants,” you instruct. “Just those.”

He rushes to follow through. Your pants are on the floor in an instant, and his hand is right back on you. He drops his head into your neck when he feels you this time.

“You’re drenched,” he moans. He runs his index finger through your folds over the cloth, so soaked through that he can feel the outline of your pussy perfectly. He pushes his index finger just barely into your hole, watching your panties scrunch up into it.

“Gyu!” you yelp.

“Let me, let me, let me,” he pleads, jamming his finger just a touch further. Your hands wrap around his arm, needing purchase on something. “You want to cum so bad, right? You want to feel good?”

“What do you want?” you ask back.

“To make you take whatever I give,” he answers. Your entrance flutters over his finger at that. “So let me take these off,” he says, pulling his hand away to snap your waistband.

You feel your sanity leave you. You need that pressure back in your cunt. His eyes are dark and blown out. He pulls your panties down just barely, letting them sit below your hip bones, your center still covered. He’s agonizingly slow as he pulls further and further, not daring to reveal your cunt until you say so.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Beomgyu whispers.

He’s the one driving you crazy. Your mind is completely fogged over. You’ve been turned into some kind of lust-drunk whore, seeing as you can’t focus on anything but him if you tried.

“Take them off,” you finally give in. You pulse and ache where you need him most. Beomgyu wastes no time when he pulls your panties off and away, and the first thing he does is hold your legs wide open and stare at your pussy.

“So perfect and slutty for me,” he says in his deep voice. “Gonna make this little pussy all mine.”

You whine at his words, thighs twitching and trying to close. You need him to do something, you need him to fill you. Your hole clenches over nothing, the emptiness starting to kill you. Beomgyu bites his lip and watches as your arousal leaks from you.

“You’re so cute, maybe I should just keep you like this,” he muses, laughing when you cry out and shake your head. “No? But I love watching this sweet cunt leak for me. You’re dripping like a whore.”

You arch your back, push your hips out, do anything you can, but he still doesn’t relieve you. You try to bring your own hand down to your pussy, but Beomgyu grabs it and pushes it back against the couch by your head.

“Please touch me!” you plead, desperate beyond belief. You might even start crying.

“Aww, my baby needs me,” he coos, soothing his hands up your thighs. “My pretty girl needs me, only me.” Finally, his fingers find your clit. You melt into the feeling, sighing in relief. Your hips twitch closer to his hand, making sure he won’t leave.

“Thank you,” you moan. Beomgyu holds your face with his free hand, staring into your teary eyes.

“Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you need,” he says, voice soft. He dips a finger into your cunt, stopping once he’s knuckle-deep. He fucks his finger into you slowly, and you sigh at the relief. He watches his finger sink into you, humming in pleasure when he sees how it collects your wetness.

His actions pull soft moans from your mouth, but you can’t bring yourself to conceal them. It’s not like you need to be embarrassed anyway, seeing how much Beomgyu loves your reactions. You get sick of his slow pace after a while, trying to ride his finger faster.

“More?” he asks. He inserts a second finger into you. The stretch feels like heaven, you crave to be stuffed by him.

“Yes! I need it,” you exclaim. He picks up the pace a little. “Thank you, thank you..!” He laughs a little and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You’re so nice to me right now,” he notes with a smile, fucking you faster on his fingers in appreciation. “This is how you should always be.” You pay no mind to the wet squelches your pussy makes as he pistons into you. Your stomach muscles clench as you feel yourself getting closer.

He starts curling his fingers inside of you, and it doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. You arch your back and yelp at the sensation of him pressing against the spongy part inside of you. He grins and keeps thrusting against that spot, watching your reactions with amused eyes. His head moves down between your thighs, biting and sucking at all the flesh his mouth can find, then wraps his lips around your clit once he grows tired of marking you.

“Ah! Gyu! That’s—mmh,” you sputter, rolling your hips up into the feeling. It’s so much. He pushes his fingers into you harder, deeper, with more purpose. He toys with your clit using his tongue, swiping and flicking it while he sucks. You’re right there and he knows it, doubling his efforts.

The pleasure takes you under, and you cum with a cry. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at the strands. It makes him moan, and the vibrations fuel your orgasm. He’s hungry for it, fingers coaxing as much of your cum as he can get out of you. He doesn’t give up his pace even as you start to come down, fog clearing from your mind.

“That’s enough,” you say, trying to push his head away. His mouth leaves you for all of one second before he latches himself back on. “Beomgyu, I already—fuck!” He sucks harder now and hooks his fingers harshly into you to rub right against a spot that has you seeing stars. He only pulls his fingers out long enough to push a third one in, pressing right back where he was.

You gasp, pulling his hair again, needing something to keep you in reality cause you feel like you’re about to slip. You shake and twitch with overstimulation, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. It’s like he hasn’t gotten his fill yet. He’s careless with how he breaks you, paying no mind to your body’s limits.

Your orgasm builds up and hits you quickly thanks to Beomgyu’s determination. Your thighs clamp around his face, but that doesn’t stop him. You whine and mewl as Beomgyu feasts on your arousal. Your poor pussy clenches hard around his three fingers, so much he can’t even thrust them anymore, so he curls his fingers rapidly inside you instead. Your cum pools out of you and onto his hand, your juices dripping out of you uncontrollably.

He pulls away, panting, staring at your pussy. He licks a stripe up it, then goes back down to circle his tongue around your entrance. You whimper and push his head away. He meets your eyes, and his dark gaze softens when he sees your teary ones.

“Can’t you just take a little more?” he asks. His eyes don’t leave yours as he nibbles and sucks on your thigh. You shake your head and push his face away again. With a pout, he rises back up so his face is hovering over yours. You don’t know why fondness overcomes you when you’re staring at him, but the feeling isn’t entirely unwelcome.

“You’re so good,” you say, cupping his face and giggling. He leans his face into your neck, and you can feel his shy smile form against your skin. He comes back up with stars in his eyes.

You want to kiss him, and the thought scares you because you’ve never wanted that before. The feeling is so overpowering that you have to look away. You try to find interest in the wall, but Beomgyu’s movement makes you turn your head back to him. He leans back to admire you.

He smirks at the sight of your thighs, prompting you to look down at them too. Your eyes widen in horror at all the marks he sucked onto them. He pats your leg with a happy grin on his face. “No more short skirts around him,” he says. What a little shit.

“Beomgyu!” you scold. Dignity finds you and forces you to sit up and reach for your clothes on the floor. Before you can grab anything, Beomgyu’s placing you in his lap and holding your face much too close to his. His hips jut up into yours, and you gasp upon feeling his erection. Of course he’s hard again.

“I still need you,” he whines. “Please, don’t go yet.” You pull your face away from him, so he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. His puppy eyes are so sweet and pitiful, you have no choice but to stay. One sad look from him is all it takes for him to get whatever he wants from you. You’re weak.

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you say as he grinds into you. He grips your hips hard, keeping you in place so you have no choice but to take it. You can already see your juices on his sweatpants, leaving a damp mark right over his cock.

“Yeah?” he asks, half-breathless. It’s like he’s not even listening to you, too focused on humping you like a bitch in heat.

“Yes, slow down.” He drops his head on your shoulder and pants heavily, not slowing down at all. You’re buzzing in overstimulation, legs twitching uncontrollably. His hands are shameless as they try to grab at every part of you. He squeezes your hips, your waist, your tits. His tongue is warm on your skin as it trails up to your ear, where he bites down and sucks.

He pushes himself further against you, giving you no space and no chance to leave. He wraps his arms around you and pistons his hips like he’s actually fucking you.

You gasp, “G-Gyu! Stop being bad!” You tug his hair, forcing his head back. His mouth drops open, and he stares at you through lidded eyes. Lust has possessed him, and your words only fuel him.

“Then punish me,” he says. You pull his hair harder, forcing his head back as far as you can, and suck on his neck. He moans louder than you’ve ever heard from him before, and his hips stutter in their rhythm. His hands keep you pressed against him as close as you can get. You moan when you feel his dick twitch through his clothes. For a second, you wonder how it would feel inside of you, but you shove that thought to the back of your mind.

You detach yourself from his throat and watch his face twist up from the pleasure. You look down to see the cum stains on his pants, giggling at the sight. Your hips jerk, and he gasps at the sensation.

Your eyes land on the mark you sucked into his neck. It’s darker than the ones he plastered all over your thighs. You want to feel ashamed or appalled for leaving that on him, but all you feel is some sort of satisfaction. You let your body fall limp against him, sinking into his hold and laying your head on his chest. His hands run to soothe you, brushing through your hair and rubbing your back.

You avoid asking questions. You avoid talking at all. You don’t want to know what this is or what it means, you just want to bask in the afterglow of whatever this is. The unpacking part of this will be a problem for future you.

Even if you hate yourself for this tomorrow, you can’t think of anything better than Beomgyu’s embrace on you now. You’ve already crossed so many lines with him, adding a few more won’t hurt. You find yourself wondering what things you’d like to do with Beomgyu next.

You lean back to stare at his face. His smile is blissful and lazy. You can’t pull your eyes from his lips. Even in the middle of winter, they still look so soft. You wonder what it would feel like to run your tongue over them, or how they would feel wrapped around your fingers. Would they be carnal and unforgiving against your own, or would his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss?

You feel his hand on the back of your head. He’s pulling you closer, and you panic. You tilt your head so that your lips find his jaw instead of his mouth. You pull away after planting a little kiss there. Your gaze flits down his face for just a few seconds before you lean in to place another kiss on his jaw, a little higher than the last, lingering a little longer.

“A real one now,” he requests, eyes pleading and hands resting on your neck. You peck his nose, then his cheek, then his other cheek. He holds your face still and whispers your name. You share the most intense stare you’ve felt in your life.

You close the gap and let your lips touch for just one second. It’s soft and simple, and it’s enough to satisfy your curiosity, but Beomgyu has to come back for more. His lips feel so nice, they were made to be kissed. His fingers dig into your hair, desperate, clinging to you as if you’ll slip away from him. His kiss is hungry, like he wants to consume you, like he’s trying to find a way to your soul through your mouth.

You use both your hands on his chest to push him away, and when you succeed, you stare at him with wide eyes. You’re trying to get your breathing back under control. His face is flushed.

“Please, you can’t go back to Soobin after that,” he begs. The fragile glass holding this moment together breaks, and your sense crashes back over you immediately. Shit, you forgot about Soobin. How could you have forgotten about Soobin?!

You pull yourself out of his lap and stare at your best friend with horrified, blown-out eyes. What the fuck? What did you just do? You have to tell Soobin, you have no choice now. Next time you see him, you’re going to spill everything that’s happened with you and Beomgyu. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair to him.

“Gyu… I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize getting off the couch slowly, putting on your clothes. How do you save this? How do you stop yourself from breaking both Soobin’s trust and Beomgyu’s heart? There has to be a way to salvage this. There has to be a way to make this okay.

“Why?” He shoots up, holding your arms so you stay. “Why would you be sorry?” He shakes his head like he’s not understanding, but his eyes tell you that he knows. He knows you’re going to try to stop this again. What will he do to prevent you this time?

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you whisper. You can’t even look him in the eye.

His disappointment only shows for a second before it’s overcome by need. A need to stop you from leaving, a need to show you that he’s yours, a need to prove himself to you—you know it all already, it’s happened so many times before. You can’t give in. Not again. Not after you let him get this far. If you allow this, what else will you let him do?

His hands are shaking as they cup your face. When you meet his eyes, you see tears already falling from them. You hate it. You hate it so much, how you’re always the cause of them. You’re always finding new spots to put your knife, slower ways to kill him. You know it by now; you know he’ll be hurt, but you do it time and time again, and you never learn your lesson.

This time it will change. This time you have to mean it.

“Stop making this so hard…” you say, hushed, as you wipe his tears from his face.

“I can’t leave you alone,” he insists. “You don’t get it. It’ll kill me.” He turns his face to kiss your palm. You try to pull your hand away, but he catches your arm and brings your wrist to his mouth, kissing you gently over your pulse point.

Why does your heart race? Why does your breath catch? He keeps finding new ways to fluster and confuse you, and all this just to make sure you don’t leave him for Soobin. You don’t know what’s more pathetic: the fact that he keeps doing this, or the fact that it keeps working.

You smooth your hand down his neck and rest it on his shoulder. “Just go to sleep,” you tell him softly.

“Come with me. Don’t make me go to bed alone after this.” He looks so cute and hopeful, you almost give in. You tighten your lips and place a parting pat on his chest.

“Good night,” you say before walking to your bedroom. He must know better than to follow, because he doesn’t. You try to ignore how your bed suddenly feels so big and empty.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Tell me everything, girl,” Chaewon says as soon as you settle onto her bed with her. You rushed over to her place after work, needing to debrief her on whatever has been going on between you and Beomgyu.

“First promise me that you won’t hate me,” you start.

“Oh, this is how I know it’s gonna be good,” she chuckles.

“Promise me!” you repeat, clutching onto her legs and locking eyes with her.

“I promise!” You lean back and let out a dramatic sigh, preparing yourself for your recap of all the events. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.

“So, remember the day we went to the bar, how you said you think Beomgyu might like me?” you ask. She nods. “I think you might’ve been right. Things have been getting weird.”

“I literally fucking knew it, I knew he must’ve been on some shit,” she says, looking excited to hear more. “Continue.”

“Well…” you trail off, feeling your stomach knot up in fear of actually saying what happened out loud. “Oh my Godddd, I can’t.” You hide your face in your hands.

Chaewon pushes your hands down and shakes you by the wrists. “Tell me!”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, so. At the bar, Beomgyu came up to me and was like are you leaving with Soobin? And I was like no, and he was so happy about that. But then he got really upset when I wanted to go back to the table with Soobin. Literally so upset that I ended up going back home with him cause he was gonna sulk all night otherwise.”

“Oh my fucking God, Aeri and I were literally joking about that being the reason why you left. That’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“The next day, I asked him for his opinion on Soobin, and he got all pissed at me for some reason,” you continue.

“It’s cause he likes you!” Chaewon chimes in, rising up and screeching with the adrenaline of the conversation.

“Well then it gets crazy. He starts talking about how our friendship is enough, I don’t need a man, and I’m like huh? I don’t even remember everything he said, but it was so weird, and he started offering himself up to me basically.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Like, I’ll do whatever you want, literally like that,” you explain.

“Girl.” You share a glance.

“Just wait. It gets worse,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you fucked.”

“Just wait!” you repeat. “So I tell him I’m gonna head to your place to clear my mind, and—I can’t make this up—he drops to his knees and starts crying actual tears. And then it gets kinda horny?”

Chaewon busts out laughing and claps her hands. “How’d I know?”

“He’s biting and licking my thigh, and I’m still trying to talk some sense into him, but some demon ends up possessing me and he takes me to my bed, and we don’t fuck but we… yeah.”

Chaewon covers her mouth in shock. She’s speechless, and you let the first half of the story ruminate in silence for a few long seconds. You tighten your lips and nod like you’re disappointed too.

“When we finish, I tell him that this is never happening again, and that he needs to leave my room, but he doesn’t. He insists on sleeping in my bed with me because Soobin gets me every other night, which is not true, but I let him have it anyway.”

“You need to put your foot down. He’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“There’s more,” you respond. “Also, that night, he told me that Soobin apparently said we’re together or something at the bar? Is that true?”

Chaewon scrunches up her face. “No? I don’t think he said that.”

You groan, “Beomgyu is literally driving himself crazy. Anyway, the next day I literally start hating myself so bad because I wake up and have to see Soobin immediately”—Chaewon gasps—“Yeah. And the whole time I’m thinking, do I tell him? Should he know? And, oh my God, Beomgyu would not stop blowing up my phone during our date.”

“I would have to fight him, that’s so annoying,” Chaewon comments.

“It was! He didn’t even need anything either, he just wanted my attention. I didn’t end up telling Soobin anything cause I was scared. When I got home, Beomgyu and I ate and he was like I hope this is better than what you did with Soobin.”

“Girl, beat his ass,” Chaewon says.

“Stop,” you laugh, pushing her shoulder. “We argue again, and then I ask you to come over. Then you know what happens when you’re there. When you leave, though, the demons get to me again and I get even freakier with Beomgyu.”

Chaewon looks at you in horror and shock.

“Yeah. So when it ends, I tell him that this won’t happen again. He gets all sad and cries again, and says all this heartbreaking, confusing shit. So no matter what I do, I feel like I’m hurting someone.”

“Can I be honest? He’s one hundred percent manipulating you,” she says. You flinch a bit at that. Manipulating you? That’s a little far.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you refute. “He just ignores all our friendship’s boundaries.” Beomgyu has touched you in ways that friends shouldn’t. He’s declared things to you that friends shouldn’t. He’s begged to you and drove himself to tears, he’s gotten in his head with insecurities about you, he’s done too many things that a friend would never do that you just can’t ignore.

Chaewon places her hand over your own. That’s how you know she’s about to get serious. You like talking about this with her because she can be fun, but she can also be mature about things and give good advice. Plus, at least with her, you don’t have to worry about not being heard.

“Listen,” she starts. “He cries to you because he knows you’ll give in. He brings up his devotion to you because it makes you feel like you owe him. It’s not about professing his emotions, it’s about doing whatever it takes to keep you closest to him.”

Your brain is struggling to fit all the pieces together. It’s not adding up or making sense to you. Maybe to an outside source like Chaewon, it looks a little bad, but you know Beomgyu better than that. You always have been influenced by him. Right now is no different. He doesn’t want to control you, you think. He just wants his best friend.

“He’s not evil, Chaewon, he’s just being annoying,” you say. She sighs and goes quiet for a second. You can tell she’s carefully formulating her response.

“He’s being selfish. He can’t stand to see you choose another man over him.” That much you know. He’s admitted to that.

“Then wouldn’t I be selfish too? Letting him do things with me while I’m talking to Soobin,” you ask, looking off to the side. When you say it like that, guilt pours over you. If Beomgyu’s being selfish, then you’ve been obscenely greedy. That’s not a far cry from the truth, though, and it may even be the actuality of the situation after all. You won’t defend yourself from that claim.

“The thing is, you wouldn’t be doing any of this if Beomgyu wasn’t messing with your head,” Chaewon reasons. “Would you have let him touch you if he never cried to you that night?”

You think back to your first intimate moment with Beomgyu. You definitely wanted it. The second time too. You ponder Chaewon’s words. If he never fell to his knees, begging you to stay, what would have happened? If he skipped the tears and the pity party and just took you straight to your room to fuck, would you have been okay with it then?

Probably not, you think. But how relevant is that? You can’t separate Beomgyu’s emotions from his actions. He felt like he was losing you, and that’s why he did everything. Everything that happened after was from the heat of the moment, an act of desperation.

Maybe it’s his utter devotion that turns you on, maybe that’s what keeps you from denying him. Seeing a man so desperate that he’d shed tears for you, perhaps it’s what makes you lose control. When Beomgyu’s on his knees, looking up at you with painfully honest eyes, promising you that he’ll be good, any woman in your position would fold.

What if it wasn’t Beomgyu? What if it was Soobin instead? Would you still give in? You try to picture it. You look into Soobin’s eyes and feel his fingers on your thighs. You try to make yourself burn up more, but you don’t feel much.

Okay, picture it more, maybe. He’s got you spread on your mattress, begging you for just one touch. He kisses your stomach, and his tears fall off his cheek and onto your skin. His tongue is warm and wanting, exploring further down your body until he bites down on your waistband. You tense up, needing more. You grab his hair tight. He looks up at you and you almost shriek, horror and humiliation crashing over you. He’s not Soobin at all. He’s Beomgyu.

Chaewon’s voice cuts through your thoughts to ask you another question, “Do you feel like you can’t leave him?”

“I’d never leave him,” you answer. You didn’t even have to think about it. She sighs.

“At some point, you have to realize that this is going beyond keeping a friend around,” Chaewon says. “He won’t let you go out with Soobin in peace. He argues with you whenever you mention him. He touches you to get your mind off of him.”

You don’t try to refute that. Should you just accept defeat? You could go home and surrender to Beomgyu. You could promise to never look at Soobin again, and he’d finally get what he wants without a fight. You’d live the rest of your life not knowing whether you’ve got the love of your life standing right beside you or waiting out in the world somewhere.

“He’s giving you no choice. He’s doing it on purpose.” Chaewon picks up your hands, lacing them with her own. “You have to start standing your ground with him. No more letting him control your life.” Her hands give a firm, reassuring squeeze to yours.

You nod. “You’re right.” She smiles.

“Okay. Bring it here,” she says, pulling you into a hug. The second your head lands on her shoulder, you start crying. You didn’t even know you had to cry. She rubs her hand down your back, letting you use her as an outlet.

“What happens if I can’t, and nothing changes?” you sob. You feel helpless in your own life. Nothing you do will change what Beomgyu does or erase what you have done.

“Then you leave,” she answers simply. You tense up at the idea. Do you have it in you? You’re not nearly brave enough. “You come stay with me for however long you need. I promise.”

“How will I look at Soobin after this?” You should save everyone a whole lot of trouble and just call things off with him. The thought makes you feel sick, though. You don’t want to leave Soobin. You have a real connection with him. Beomgyu’s just getting in the way of it, fogging up your mind at every chance he gets.

Chaewon pulls you out of her embrace so she can look you in the eye. Her hands stay on your shoulders, firm and reassuring. “Stop beating yourself up. You made a mistake, but you’re not the biggest one at blame here.”

You wish that was true. You blame your lack of spine, your inability to keep your conscience clear, and your willingness to lie to save face. You look down at your lap in shame. If Beomgyu’s an asshole, then you’re perfect for him. You’re not as good as you’d like to think.

Chaewon calls your name to bring your attention back to her. “Soobin isn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Well, that’s true. You sniffle.

“Won’t he hate me now?” you ask.

“He has no right. As long as there’s no label, you two aren’t exclusive. Sure, things are a lot more complicated now, but you’re not a bad person for anything you did,” she says. You nod slowly. Her words help you so much. You would have gone crazy without her.

Maybe you should take her advice: leave Beomgyu and stay with her, at least until you can make up your mind. You can’t do that to him, though. He’d fall apart. It would honestly be hard for you, too.

“Thanks, Chaewon,” you say. You flop down onto the bed, letting your body sink into her mattress. “I’m so exhausted after that.”

“A good cry will do that to you,” Chaewon laughs. She lays down beside you and rests her arm over your waist. You pull yourself closer to her until you’re laying on her chest. You throw a leg over her, getting comfortable.

“Let’s order pizza,” you suggest.

“Yesss, and watch more of my show,” Chaewon adds. She picks up her phone and searches for a good pizza place that can deliver to her. As she does that, your phone screen lights up to signal that Beomgyu’s calling you.

“Oh my God,” you say, holding your phone up for Chaewon to see.

Chaewon smirks and shakes her head. “We summoned him.”

You sit up as you answer the call. “Hi Gyu, what’s up?”

“Not much, just wondering if you’re gonna be here for dinner?” he answers.

“No, I’m getting pizza.” Beomgyu hums on the other end, and it’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Are you with Soobin right now?” he asks. You’re displeased but unsurprised at his question.

“I’m with Chaewon,” you say flatly. Chaewon leans closer to you and points at your phone.

“Let me talk to him,” she whispers, fury in her eyes. You shake your head. You absolutely cannot let that fight happen.

“Oh. Are you sleeping over there?” Beomgyu asks. Chaewon nods with wide eyes, like you’d be crazy if you said no.

“I might, yeah,” you answer.

“Alright. Tell her I said hi. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back after work.”

“Yay, have fun with Chaewon then! Bye~” he sings.

“See you.” You hang up and turn to Chaewon. “Did you order the pizza?”

“It’s on its way,” she confirms with a grin.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You take a deep breath before you enter your apartment. You’re nervous to face Beomgyu again. Not knowing how he’s going to act is worrying you, because you don’t know if you’re going to walk in and get a normal night with your best friend, or more confusing confessions that toe the line between friendliness and something greater.

You don’t see him when you come in, so you wonder if he’s working. That would make your night less stressful. That proves to be wishful thinking, though, when shut the fridge after grabbing a drink and see Beomgyu walking into the kitchen. He greets you with a sweet call of your name.

You smile at him, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. After your conversation with Chaewon yesterday, the only thing that’s been lingering on your mind is how to finally put your foot down. Do you wait for him to try something to have that conversation? He’s going to be offended no matter when you say it, so maybe you should just get it over with. You don’t know.

“How was work?” he asks.

You shrug. “It was kind of a long day.” Not for any work related reasons, but you don’t tell him that part. Standing in the kitchen with him feels awkward now, even though it never used to before. You just can’t stop thinking about him in unfriendly ways, be it from his kiss or from his confessions.

You realize that these thoughts will only pester you worse and worse the longer you ignore the topic with Beomgyu. He’s talking about what he did at work today, but you’re barely listening. Your eyes linger on his lips as he speaks. You follow the movement of his hands as he rambles, thinking about how those slender fingers felt inside of you.

God, stop! This is why you should have never done anything with him. At this rate, you’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with him again. Your heart starts beating faster. You need to let him know that you need space. Fuck, why did you let it get this far? His sad eyes flicker in the back of your mind already.

Beomgyu moves to the couch, probably expecting you to follow him and turn on the television. Your feet stay planted where they are, watching him with careful eyes. He looks back at you when he realizes you didn’t trail behind him, staring at you expectantly.

You force yourself to move, walking slowly into the room with him. You sit on the couch, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

Now’s the time. Speak up, you have to. Don’t worry about his feelings. Think about Soobin. Do this for him—better yet, do this for yourself. Prove that you have it in you.

“Beomgyu,” you say. He furrows his brows, seeming confused at your serious tone. “We can’t do this anymore. I’m serious.” You steady your breathing as you look him straight in the eye.

“What do you mean?” he’s quick to ask. You know he’s not dumb enough to not understand what you meant. He grabs your hand to hold it, and you let him have it for a few seconds before you pull away.

“I mean, no more playing with each other. No touching, or kissing, or anything we wouldn’t normally do.” You’re anxious as hell, but you feel strong for once, and it’s nerve-wracking yet empowering. You’re setting your boundaries. No more reckless decisions that leave you regretting everything the next day.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Why, cause Soobin said so?”

“No, because I said so,” you correct. He tilts his head as a frown starts to form on his face. You remind yourself that you can’t let him win. You remind yourself of everything that Chaewon said. Beomgyu will do anything he can to win, and you can’t let that happen.

He’s quiet for a moment, unnerving you. You know that he’s coming up with his pleas now. You have to cut him off before he can get anything out.

“You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you because of some dumb decision we made,” you say, hoping he’ll understand, but the sadness in his eyes only grows at that. He drops his head onto your shoulder and hugs you. Oh lord. You hug him back with a heavy exhale.

“What am I supposed to do? Watch you be happy with someone that’s not me?” he murmurs into your neck. You lean out of the hug so that you can look him in the eye. He needs to know you’re not breaking this time.

“Yes. It’s either that or we argue like we have been everyday.” It’s about time that he stops sulking at every mention of Soobin.

“Then I’ll take the arguments. I’ll take you yelling at me and hitting me, I don’t care. I just can’t take you being with him,” he says.

“I’d never do that,” you refute, sick at the idea of hurting him. “You have to listen to me. Let me see this out with Soobin. I want to at least give him a chance without you intervening.”

He sighs with a heavy heart. Is he going to let you win? That easy?

“Did Chaewon tell you to do this?” he asks. You drop your jaw in shock. He’s got some nerve asking that.

“That doesn’t matter, the only thing that does is that I told you we have to stop, and you need to listen.” You can’t believe he’s bringing Chaewon into this. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going to let him blame her.

Beomgyu deflates into the couch and looks down at the floor. You ignore how your heart clenches. You can’t comfort him, that would be his window for turning this situation around. He has to know you mean this, so you walk away, going to your room and shutting the door.

You lean your back against the door and zone out, staring at the wall. Don’t think about how Beomgyu feels. Don’t think about how you might have ruined your friendship.

What do you do now? Will he want to talk to you anymore? Maybe you should have let him plead his case a little. He’s insecure, he can’t help it. You slide down the door until you’re sitting down.

You have to stop making excuses for him. He’s an adult, it’s time he acts like it. Chaewon’s right, you can’t keep giving him what he wants, and putting your foot down and hurting his feelings was the only way he was going to learn.

That’s what you’ve been doing, you suppose, but this time you mean it, and you hope he knows it. You’re going to have to put in more effort into resisting the urge to comfort him. If he keeps making things hard for you, you’ll have to start ignoring and avoiding him. The thought scares you.

You don’t want to think about this anymore. You wish you didn’t have to do this, but you had no choice. Your thoughts about him were driving you crazy, and you had to put a stop to it before they could get even worse. Not to mention how guilty you’d feel hanging out with Soobin if you continued letting Beomgyu have his way with you.

You open your phone and go to your chat with Soobin and type a quick message.

Hey

You just want to reassure yourself that you made the right choice. Hurting Beomgyu’s feelings can’t be for naught. You don’t expect Soobin to respond so fast, but he does.

[Soobin] Wow I was just thinking about you lol

[Soobin] Hi

Your heart skips a beat as you read his texts. He thinks about you?

Oh really? About what?

[Soobin] I wanted to see you again

You bite your lip and a smile grows on your face. See? Wasn’t this worth making Beomgyu a little sad? Wasn’t it a fair trade off? He’ll be okay, surely. And eventually, you might even stop feeling guilty for doing it, too.

You deserve to be able to talk with Soobin without your conscience barking at you. This is what had to happen. You’ll feel better about this when everything all works out in the end.

How about tomorrow?

[Soobin] I’d love that

Yayyyy

Finally something not shitty about my day

[Soobin] What happened?

You groan. Where do you even start?

Argument with my friend

[Soobin] Beomgyu?

Yep…

[Soobin] Well I’m glad I could make you happy for a minute then :)

You find yourself giggling at his message.

You’re cute

[Soobin] Thank you

[Soobin] You too

You almost squeal when you read that. He’s so shy when it comes to flirting, but when he does it, it never fails to give you butterflies. You imagine him blushing as he sent it, feeling a little hesitant to be so bold. What an endearing guy.

Finally, you feel like you can end the night on a decent note. You feel better now that you’ve got something to look forward to with Soobin. You don’t let yourself think about Beomgyu anymore tonight, not wanting to sink down that rabbit hole.

I’m gonna go to sleep, thanks for cheering me up hehe

And for everything that you do

Good night

[Soobin] Sleep well

[Soobin] Dream of me

Your heart flutters. Your fingers race across the keyboard.

Fingers crossed

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The air around you and Soobin feels so much lighter now that guilt doesn’t have you in its claws. You ended whatever you had going on with Beomgyu, and now you can focus more on Soobin. Your heart holds an open invitation for Soobin to occupy, you’re just waiting for the feelings to further bloom.

It’s unfortunate how early it gets dark out, but you don’t let it ruin your day. You bask in the glow of the streetlights as you and Soobin walk to the park.

“I used to come here all the time with my sister and nephew,” he says. You find a gazebo to sit under. From here, you have a perfect view of the frozen-over lake ahead of you. “We’d play tag with him, but we’d have to run super slow to give him a fair chance.”

You can see that image clearly in your mind, and it makes you smile at how cute it is. Soobin being such a family man is so charming to you. He has such marriage potential. You’re getting ahead of yourself, though.

“This seems like a good place to bring a kid. So much space to play,” you comment, looking out at the park. The grass doesn’t look so alive right now, and all the trees are bare, but it must be nice in the summertime. Even now, there’s something beautiful about it.

“Yeah, it makes me think about having kids of my own to run around in these fields.” The idea of a mini Soobin playing here makes you chuckle. He’d definitely have well-behaved kids. He would be a good dad.

“You want to stay here when you raise a family?” you ask.

“I think so. There’s a lot this place has in store. I’m a little attached to it,” he laughs. You wonder if you’ll think of the city so fondly one day too. You’ve only been here for a little over a year.

“Really? What’s the best thing in this city, then?” you ask and smile at him.

He looks at you for a long second, then lets out a little laugh. His cheeks are red when he looks back out at the lake. “I don’t know…”

You giggle, swooning over him yet again. “What about your hometown? What was it like there?”

“It was nice. I lived in a small area. I miss it sometimes, but I don’t think I’d go back. I think I mostly miss being a child,” he answers.

“I can relate to that,” you say. “Life’s harder now.” You think about the past week in particular and all the chaos with Beomgyu. Teenage you would never have imagined getting tangled up in something like this, especially not involving him.

“Things like this are good, though,” Soobin adds, smiling at you. “Things with you.” Your face heats up. He’s getting so flirty and brave.

“Same for me,” you say. “It’s good with you.” You spend a few quiet seconds admiring his face, letting the butterflies flutter wildly within you.

“I think it’s been long enough for me to ask this,” Soobin starts. Your body tenses in anticipation. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Oh god. The butterflies halt and replace their happy fluttering with silent dread. All of your effort is going into maintaining a neutral composition. You don’t want to let your internal dilemma show. Your heart is going haywire, like it’s trying to beat right out of your chest. You don’t blame it for trying to run away; a part of you wishes you could too.

“Can we wait a little longer?” you ask meekly. You fear hurting his feelings, but you simply need more time. This is not how you imagined this moment would go. You wish you could scream yes and jump into his arms, but things have gotten muddy in the past week. You need to sort everything out with Beomgyu first. If this is going to happen, you need to make sure it comes from a place of one hundred percent certainty. You can’t be exclusive with Soobin with Beomgyu lingering in the back of your mind.

If Soobin’s trying to mask his disappointment, he’s failing. Your heart drops. Is this where he leaves you? No—you’re not ready for that either. If he gets up right now, you’re ready to cling onto his jacket and beg him not to go. You don’t know what you just did. You messed up. You should’ve just said yes.

“I’ll wait however long you need,” he ends up saying. He stays right where he is. You sigh in relief and hug him. He lets out a noise of surprise, but is quick to hug you back.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. Things are just…” you trail off as you pull away from him. He brushes your hair out of your face. “…Confusing right now.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks.

You gulp. “Kind of. It’s… Beomgyu.”

“Oh, right. He doesn’t like me.”

You frown. “I don’t know why.”

“You really value his opinion,” he notes.

“It’s not only that…” you say, looking down at your hands fidgeting in your lap. Soobin lifts your head back up with a gentle hand. He smiles when your eyes meet.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I’m ready whenever you are,” he reassures. He leans in to place a peck on your cheek. You heat up wildly.

“You should probably know, though,” you urge.

“No,” he insists. “Honestly, I don’t want to know. I’m just happy I get you to myself every time that I do.”

A weight lifts itself from your shoulders. You feel like you can breathe again. You’re lucky that Soobin is so understanding, and even luckier that he’s willing to wait for you to figure your own things out. He doesn’t owe you that, but you’re endlessly appreciative that he gives it to you anyway.

You lean into Soobin’s side and look out at the scenery in front of you. The two of you fall back into conversation, and you find yourself feeling sad when it’s time to go.

As you hug him goodbye, you feel inclined to just never let go. You feel so comfortable in his embrace. You insist on meeting up again over the weekend, and he puts up no fight in accepting. Gosh, he makes your heart race. Things are finally feeling good again.

notes: yayyyy what do we think?? chapter 2’s already at 7.6k and i’m estimating it’ll get up to ~17k-20k, but we shall see. i’m excited to hear ur thoughts, so feel free to leave feedback! 🤍

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[florencemtrash]

The Ballad of the Shadowsinger

Azriel x Reader Oneshot

“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.”

Warnings: ANGST with a happy ending, mentions of attempted SA and suicidal ideation (they're very brief, but please do read with caution)

Author's note: I finished this at 3am last night and I think it's pretty apparent... buuuuuut I'm going to post it anyway. Enjoy...

The Shadowsinger arrived one winter night, curling into existence on the border of town like cream through coffee. Jadhan was only a boy at the time - painfully human with a broken leg that had never healed properly. The Midlands were a terrible place for a child to grow up - a place where the only thing more unstable than the ground was its sense of safety.

But things changed when the Shadowsinger arrived, bringing with him gold and the brutal violence required to scare off the bandits and murders that slipped in from the nearby Lordship. And when the Lord came for the Shadowsinger’s head, it was the fae male was the one who walked away from the fight. Except it wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.

Jadhan was thirty-seven now with three young boys that had come in a cluster, forcing their way into the world one after another. Sasha had never been quite pleased with him for that, but her love for her sons and her husband outweighed the pain and hardship in the end. 

The boys - Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik - ran around the tavern, ducking beneath tables and barstools while their height still allowed it. The Shadowsinger watched them with the faintest of smiles as they clambered about, begging for more attention from his shadows. 

There was little known about the Shadowsinger this deep into the Continent, but whispers still passed through the mouths of travelers at the inn. The most common piece of gossip was that he was a Prythian outlaw - banished to the Continent after attempting to kill his Lord. Jadhan didn’t know - and he figured he would never find out. 

The Shadowsinger was so quiet that no one even knew his real name. They all called him Shadowsinger - Shadow for short. He disappeared into the woods at night and stalked into town come morning, but give a shout at any time and he would be there, flying overhead like a black stormcloud. 

“On the house, Shadow.” Jadhan said, dropping the glass onto the sticky counter. Whisky neat, two fingers - just the way he liked it. 

The Shadowsinger picked it up, swirling the amber liquid around like he hoped it would start talking to him, “You say that every night.”

“That’s because a free drink is the least I could get you.” Jadhan tipped his head towards the rickety stage where the local songbirds were setting up. The singer, Phaedra, had her eyes on Shadow, sending love and gratitude his way like a flood, “Phaedra’s been telling everyone what you did for her. You know, with the Morois boy.” 

Shadow grimaced, taking his first sip. He grimaced again. The whiskey was home-brewed and tasted like it. Everyone in town said a shot of the stuff could kill a man, but Shadow was hardly a man, and more shadow than fae.

Lev Morois had had his eyes on Phaedra for a while now. And he didn’t like to be denied anything, especially women. Normally he traveled to the Lordship for his fill, and he would have been better off going there last night. Instead he’d forced his way into Phaedra’s home… and Shadow had made sure he’d never be able to hurt a woman like that ever again. 

“How old are your boys now, Jadhan?” His voice was deep and smoky.

The trio neared closer, as if they knew they’d been summoned. The eldest, Mikhail, nearly crashed into the countertop, forgetting he had to bend down now. A tendril of black shadow shot out, muffling the blow and corralling him back out onto the open dancefloor with the rest of the children. 

Jadhan sighed and rubbed at a burned spot on the counter, “Too old, and growing faster than weeds.” 

It was a sweet pain for Azriel to see the three brothers romping around. It was almost winter and soon enough they’d be wrestling in the frosted fields, shoving snow down each other’s shirts, and hurling it at each other's heads. 

When was the last time he’d seen his brothers? Cassian had stopped by twenty-five years ago, shocked and scared to see Azriel looking so wretched. The next time Azriel’s shadows had warned him, and they’d sent Cassian away.

Rhysand was a different story… he’d never forgiven Azriel for what he’d done - and rightfully so - but that didn’t make the pain any easier to swallow. That didn’t make Azriel miss them any less.

He tossed the rest back and, to Jadhan’s surprise, he let the barkeep refill it.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Phaedra’s voice crooned over the crowd, settling over drunk men and women like a warm blanket until it was time for their sober partners to drag them home. Those who were alone either settled into the hard booths for a nap or resigned themselves to a stumble home in the dark. They’d all make it to their beds in the end - The Shadowsinger would see to that.

He dropped a gold coin onto the counter - triple what the night’s libations actually cost. It was the briefest of stumbles that had Jadhan gripping onto the male’s shoulder and forcing him back into his seat. 

Azriel wasn’t drunk. It would take an ocean of human liquor to get a fae drunk and then some. But he was starting to feel something.

“I got a pinch of ambrose from a merchant passing through.” Shadow’s eyes snapped up to Jadhan, who only raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, hey, hey, I know you don’t drink my whiskey for the taste, so I thought I'd put something in there to remind you of home. Something to loosen you up like liquor is supposed to.” 

The Shadowsinger winced at that word: Home.

“Very well.” He said.

The boys had gone home with Sasha hours ago, and without them running about with their usual compatriots, the tavern seemed dull. Now was no longer the time for dancing and riotous laughter. Now was the time for the sad drunks and those who didn’t want to go home.

But Azriel wasn’t drunk and he desperately wanted to go home.

It was the shame that kept him rooted to the stool like a stubborn weed… that and Rhysand’s promise that if he ever laid eyes on Azriel again, he’d rip the wings off his back. 

Jadhan seemed to understand that about him, leaning over the counter on sturdy arms thick as tree trunks. His leg was still lame, always had been and always would be, but that had never held him back much.

“What’re you doing here, Shadow?”

His hazel eyes flickered up. 

“What’s it been? Twenty-five years you’ve been in town now?”

“Thirty. Exactly.” 

So that was why the Shadowsinger had drank so much that night. It was to commemorate the sad, terrible anniversary of his banishment to the Midlands.

“Don't you think that's long enough? I don’t mean any offense, but don't you have anywhere else to go? Friends? Family?”

The male gritted his teeth and Jadhan had the sinking feeling he'd just poked the bear.

“I thought I was wanted here.” 

“Of course you are. Hell, we’d all be dead or piss poor if it weren’t for you.” Jadhan shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re running from - if you’re a thief, a murderer, a treasonous bastard or all of the above-” 

Shadow flinched, actually flinched, and Jadhan knew it was all of the above.

“But whatever it is,” He continued, “I think you’ve made up for it.” 

Azriel stilled, shadows continuing to swirl around the wet, empty glass in front of him.

How he wished those words were true, but only a human would think thirty years was a long time. They were nothing if not optimistic.

“No. I haven’t.” Shadow said flatly. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Jadhan finally sighed and went to clear the glass.

“I had a mate.” He whispered the words so quietly, Jadhan almost didn’t hear him. 

His thick eyebrows disappeared into his receding hairline. He didn’t know much about fae customs and the ones he did know about were often violent, strange, or both… usually both. But he had a great deal of respect for mating bonds and understood they were prized above all else to fae.

“Had?” 

Shadow’s lips flattened into a thin line and Jadhan could have sworn his eyes began to brim with years. 

The Shadowsinger nodded stiffly.

“Dead?”

Shadow gritted his teeth and nodded once more, wings drooping low enough to brush against the sawdust packed floor.

Jadhan sighed so deeply he seemed to shrink into himself, and Azriel was once again struck by how quickly humans aged.

Silver streaks were already beginning to color his temples and his leg was getting stiffer and stiffer each day. It wouldn't be long until he was forced to swallow his pride and buy a cane like Sasha had been suggesting.

It seemed like just yesterday Jadhan had limped his way into the woods, calling out for the Shadowsinger with a copper coin clenched in his fist and a bargain to make. 

Kill my father, and I will do anything you ask of me. Anything at all.

There had been such determination in the little boy’s body that Azriel hadn’t hesitated to fold his small fingers back over the coin and then do what he had been told… to do what he’d always been told to do. 

“I’m sorry, Shadow.” He shook his graying hair, “I’m so sorry.” 

Azriel grimaced, fists tightening until they turned pale, “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you dare.”

He frowned, “And why not?”

The Shadowsinger stilled and got quiet again, “Because it was my fault. I killed her.” 

Jadhan, for all his mortal naivete, didn’t look surprised at his answer. He only twisted his mouth to the side in thought before asking once again, "Why are you here, Shadow? Why don't you leave?"

Azriel looked at him, hazel eyes filled with despair.

He would never tell Jadhan this, but he’d always been envious of humans for one thing - they could die of old age. They could be killed easily. So easily that all it would take was one flick of Azriel's wrist and Jadhan would be no more.

Fae were not so easy to kill, and their only end was a violent one. Maybe that was why Rhys had banished him to the middle of the Continent where life was harsh but simple, and fae were nowhere to be found.

No one here was strong enough to kill him. Azriel would know - he’d spent the first five years on the Continent searching for a way to die and getting into so many bloodbaths it had lost its luster.

“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.” 

___

There were many reasons Azriel built his house in the woods. Firstly, he liked the privacy Secondly, when the nightmares came, there was no telling the damage he could do. 

Tonight’s dreams were especially violent and cruel to him. 

Elain appeared before him, sweet and delicate as a dove and despite knowing better, he couldn’t help but follow her into the darkness like a fly to a carnivorous flower. It wasn’t her fault - he should have known better than to drag them both into this mess. She’d been reckless, hungry for some semblance of control in this new and strange world, and he had been all too willing to play the role of the selfless knight. 

When she kissed him it felt wrong, but like every other night, he was too powerless to push away. This was how it had happened, and there was no changing that.

She whispered against his lips, “Thank you for coming for me.” 

Azriel’s stomach twisted, because two people had gone on the mission into Beron’s lair, and two people had come out. Azriel had wrapped his arms around Elain’s silky body after saving her, and left you behind.

He followed Elain further, chasing her shimmering pink skirts onto the Autumn Court battlefield where she dove into the grasses and disappeared. 

This was where it truly went wrong. 

He caught sight of you on the hill, blood blooming like roses from where the ash arrows pierced your flesh. Your wings were gone and you leaned too far backward, still feeling their phantom weight against your back. That was what it had taken to bring you down. That was what it had taken for Beron to break you.

It was like a bolt of lightning running through his body when the bond snapped into place. Your bruised eyes shot open and you fought against the chains, horror freezing your heart. 

Azriel would know, because he felt it all.

“AZ! NO!” 

Beron’s ax caught the light as it came down on your neck and this wonderful thing he’d dreamt about for over five hundred years was snatched away from him. 

Azriel shot up in bed, skin slick and suffocating under the blankets. He kicked them off his body, taking big, desperate gulps of air as his stomach and shadows settled down. 

He rubbed his chest, feeling that hollow space where the bond used to be. 

He’d had you for less than a minute… he should have had an eternity with you. You should have had an eternity with all of them. 

On the day you died, Rhys and Cassian had also lost a sister. Feyre and Nesta had lost a best friend. Cassian may have been quick to forgive him, but Rhys could never. He’d already lost one sister. Nothing could have prepared him to lose you too. 

Shadows swarmed around him and he already knew his powers had wrecked the roof once again. Moonlight streamed through the newly made hole in the ceiling, pooling around his shaking form. He imagined it was the Mother staring down at him with her unblinking eye. Disappointed. Angry. 

The mating bond had been utterly wasted on him. 

“I’m-I’m sorry, Y/n.” He gasped out, trembling. He wrapped his wings around his shaking shoulders, as if that would be enough to shield him from what he’d done. 

Once again he was that little boy trapped in the cellar. Abandoned. Unloved. Alone. But this time he deserved it.  

“Please. Please.” He begged. He begged for the madness to take him. He begged for an end to his eternal life. 

“I want to come home.” He sobbed. “Please. I want to come home.”

You stood before him at the foot of the bed - a vision that had arrived three days after coming to the Midlands and never left. You looked at him sadly, your white dress hanging still despite the breeze that flowed through the room. But you didn’t say a word. You didn’t say anything at all. 

___

Jadhan was fifty-five now. The Shadowsinger still came to the tavern every night, drank his whiskey on the house, and left once the songs were over. 

Mikhail had left at eighteen, chasing after opportunities on the edge of the Continent. Zhik had died the year before - the youngest and the weakest of the trio. Not even the Shadowsinger could fight the cold that came for him in the Winter and stole him away before Spring. 

Now it was Alzhar and Jadhan that ran the tavern. Alzhar who poured the Shadowsinger his drinks.

“On the house.” He said, sliding the glass along the countertop. Whiskey. Two fingers. Just how the Shadowsinger liked it. 

“Thanks, Alzhar.” He raised the glass in the air before tossing it back in one shot, grimacing. Either he was getting older, or the whiskey had gotten worse. 

Snow flurried past the windows, more rain than anything else. 

“Happy Solstice day.” The Shadowsinger said with the faintest of smiles. 

“Happy Solstice day.” 

It was no grand holiday in the Midlands, and it certainly could never hold a candle to the festivities that were going on in Velaris, but still, Azriel would take whatever comfort he could get. 

Phaedra had quietly retired from singing, opting to strum along with her guitar in the background. But her daughter led the band now, a vibrant star in the midst of these quiet lands with a smoky voice that was only rivaled by her mother. 

“Happy Solstice day, everyone!” The tavern-goers cheered and a new generation of children shrieked from their spots closest to the stage. “Now I know it’s not looking too great outside, but we all know what dear old, Phaedra says.” 

“Are you calling me old, Miss Devra?” Phaedra hollered, red painted lips turned down in a frown. 

“I’m calling you a dear, Mama. You’re still as young as a rosebud in April.”

“That’s right!” Alzhar whooped. Phaedra winked and blew her future son-in-law a kiss.

Devra’s smile was positively radiant, “Alright, alright well whatever. She says daisies look brightest when they’re down in the shits, but that’s not really the most appetizing turn of phrase now is it?” 

Everyone erupted in a mixture of laughter and cheer.

“Come on now, Dev.” Alzhar called out, “You’ve kept us waiting long enough. Sing!”

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Well since you asked so kindly,” She cleared her throat and began to croon,

“When my mama first warned me you’ve got trouble on your tail, I told her foxes are quick runners and my heart ain’t just for sale. I won’t be wooed by sweet flowers or sugar tea on ice, I just want someone who’ll love me and who’ll never think twice. I’ve-”

The tavern door burst open, letting in a howling blast of night-chilled air tinged with rain and frost. Everyone cringed back except Shadow, clutching at their thick coats and gasping at the sight of the being that came in from the darkness.

The female was anything but cold with her shining, warm eyes and radiant skin. She glowed like she'd been brushed with an otherworldly glimmer. She was sunlight shooting through crystal. 

Dev stopped singing immediately, her hands slipping from the worn out strings with a strangled thrum.

The Shadowsinger stumbled, actually stumbled, to his feet, and the world seemed to fall silent.

Shadows shot out towards her, curling around her legs and licking the hem of her midnight blue coat. She was the moonlit darkness given form, delicate and fierce at the same time. 

“Azriel.” She breathed out, finally giving a name to the nameless fae. “Azriel.” She repeated, still in disbelief.

The Shadowsinger - Azriel - walked forward without a sound, his scarred hands shaking at his sides.

She looked ready to throw her arms around him. Whether it was to embrace him or strangle him was yet to be seen.

Before she could make a move or say anything further, he dropped to his knees, head bowed and trembling. He swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor between her feet like he was scared to even look at her straight on.

If he had been looking at her, he would have seen the horrified shock that parted her lips and widened her eyes.

He pulled out that sleek obsidian blade he carried with him everywhere. The knife seemed to hum, the silent sound reverberating through the room and causing the air above it to warp.

Everyone knew that that knife was as much a part of him as his wings. But he held it out to her now like an offering, wings stretching open so that everyone could see the orange glow of the fire through the thin membrane, and the tendons that flowed through them like rivers.

Alzhar looked to his father in confusion. Was this some fae custom he wasn't aware of? Should they all be bowing to her? Perhaps she was their queen.

But his father only let out a slow breath, shoulders sinking down.

The Shadowsinger was the picture of reverent misery, and he would let her take whatever she wanted for her revenge.

His wings.

His life.

Anything...

Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.

That was what the Shadowsinger had revealed to him years ago, and Jadhan had never forgotten it. 

Because I’m waiting to die.

Her beautiful face crumpled, then turned resolute. She ignored the blade, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and hauling him up to his feet. Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise.

“You bastard. You absolute bastard.” She said, her silky voice shaking, “I’ve been looking for you for years.” 

“Y/n,” Azriel whispered reverently, “I-” 

She slammed her lips against his, swallowing whatever desperate apology had been about to escape his mouth.

The Shadowsinger froze, then slowly melted into her touch, wrapping his arms around her waist so tightly it was a miracle her ribs didn’t snap. Shadows swirled around the pair in a perfect mixture of light and dark - like moonlight bleeding through winter clouds. 

No one in the tavern could stand to look away. They were absolutely transfixed. Some great power was moving in the world and they could feel it. Magic or not, it demanded to be felt.

When the two fae finally pulled away from each other, gasping for breath, something in the earth seemed to crack open and shake the ground, releasing pressure that had been building for hundreds and hundreds of years. 

Tears slipped out of her eyes, salty and not entirely unwelcome. 

“Oh, Az.” She whispered, cradling his face with one hand and clutching her chest with the other. The Shadowsinger was weeping now, curling into her like a vine seeking sunlight, “How could I have forgotten this?”

He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of elderflower and mountain pine like a man starved. His shadows grew around him, thick and powerful. And before anyone could even let out a strangled gasp, they disappeared with a whisper of smoke and shadow.

You reappeared in darkness, holding Azriel’s shaking body against you like an anchor to a ship. 

“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You gently shushed him, tangling your fingers through his hair.

You scanned the room finding nothing but a rickety bed and a dresser in the corner by way of furniture, and a small pile of firewood against the wall.

Moonlight streamed in through the roof and you held out a hand, latching onto the rays and weaving them together so tightly they filled the room with a silver glow. 

“Az.” You whispered, all your attention turned back on him, on your mate. "Az." You gently shook him, pressing fervent kisses to his temple until he finally lifted his eyes.

Azriel looked exhausted, purple bruises shading the hollows beneath his gorgeous eyes. 

“How-” Azriel gasped, “How is this-” 

“Bryaxis brought my body to the Cauldron.” You finished, equally out of breath, “It took him years to put me back together but… he did it. He did it, Az.” 

Azriel closed his eyes, sinking to his knees. This time you let him fall. And you fell with him, climbing into his lap so he could bury his face in your wind-swept hair. 

Home.

You smelled like home to him.

“Promise me." He begged, "Promise me you’re real, Y/n. Please, promise me. I’ll-I'll do anything." He could feel you on the other end of the bond, your heart pulsing and alive. But… he didn’t know if he'd be able to survive if he woke in the morning to find that this was all some terribly perfect dream.

“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You replied thickly, “I’m here and I’m whole.” You tugged off your coat, throwing it somewhere behind you, and pulled down the neck of your sweater. A thick line of scar tissue wrapped around your throat, one of the many physical reminders of the horrors Beron had put you through. 

Azriel stilled, one hand daring to trace the pale flesh with a feather-light touch. “I… I did this.” 

“No...No.” You whispered, brushing away the moisture that had collected on his cheeks, “You didn’t do this, Az.”

“I left you behind.” His voice broke. “I took Elain and I left you behind. Y/n, I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” 

You flinched and closed your eyes. It was one of your worst memories to date - the sight of Azriel’s broken face as the first ash arrow caught you in the back and brought you to the ground. The second was what had done you in, piercing through the membrane of your wings and digging into the ground, pinning you there.

Azriel had only gripped Elain’s golden form closer to his body. He could only fly one of you out, and in that moment he had made his choice and leapt into the sky. 

Azriel felt your emotion through the bond and desperation flooded his system once again. 

He couldn’t lose you. Not again. Not like this. Not when he had so much to make up for. 

“I know what I did, Y/n. I know it was unforgivable, but I swear to you I will do anything you ask. Whatever it takes. If you’ll just give me a chance, I- ”

“Shhhhhhh.” You shook your head, pressing your finger to his lips and silencing him. “I forgive you, Az.” You said, cupping his face.

He immediately leaned into your touch, craving the feeling of your soft skin against his.

“I don’t-I don't want to think about that anymore. Trust me, I’ve spent the last half a century agonizing over it.” You said, smiling without humor.

His hands rubbed up and down your back, tracing the ruined remnants of your wings and silently begging you to explain.

You hesitated, collecting your words and speaking them carefully, “I would have come sooner but… I was so scared and confused about everything. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore without my wings with-'' Your hand flew up to your throat on instinct. 

Azriel gently pulled your fingers away, kissing the pads of your fingertips all the way to your palm, and then your wrist. His lips brushed against the pulsing vein as soft as a feather. It was such a small point of contact, but it grounded you to reality.

 “I couldn’t remember anything. It was like… like I was starting from scratch. Building my life from the ground up.”

Azriel repeated the gesture with your other hand, soft lips skimming over your skin until you shivered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispered softly, “I should have been there.” 

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known.” 

You looked at him for a long time, drinking in the sight of him and refamiliarizing yourself with his face. He did the same with you.

He looked tired and thinner than you remembered, the elegant planes of his face now harsh and sharp. But buried beneath all those years of loneliness, he was still there - your Azriel. The male who never did anything in half-measures. The male who couldn’t help but make some of the most impulsive decisions you’d ever seen in your life, and also some of the most careful. 

Gods, you’d missed him.

You'd missed talking to him and laughing with him. You'd missed the simple joy of being in his presence and the way that the world seemed to fall with hush whenever he entered a room.

“I came for you as soon as I remembered.” You brushed a strand of inky black hair from his forehead, and then flicked him. Hard. “But you just had to go and disappear on the Continent without a trace.” 

That wasn’t completely true. He’d left bloody, brutal footprints for a while, but those had dried up too quickly. 

The smile Azriel gave was weak and dull, but it was a start, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Y/n.” 

“That’s alright." You murmured against his lips before kissing him, "You can make it up to me.” 

Azriel’s heart leapt in his chest, and the bond responded in kind, singing louder than a choir of a thousand songbirds. Even after all this time, even after everything, the Shadowsinger hoped. 

“Y/n-” That light began to dim, hateful voices whispering in his ear that he was unworthy of you, that he would destroy this chance at happiness just as swiftly as he’d done the first time, that he would ruin it all, “I don’t deserve-”

“Stop it, Az.” Your words were soft but commanding, “I don’t care about what you think you deserve or don’t deserve. I want you. I want my best friend back. I want you back.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I want you back in Velaris, and if it turns out I’m still pissed at you for everything, we’ll figure it out, ok?” 

You took a shaky breath and Azriel looked up at you in awe. He gathered you in his arms and captured your lips in a softer, more gentle kiss. A kiss that said, I’m tired. I’m so so tired and for the first time in my life I’m going to force the voices that tell me terrible things to be silent.

And it worked for a spell, but Azriel was pulling away again, looking guilty. 

“Rhys-”

“I’ve already handled Rhys.” 

His brow arched up every so slightly. Your guilty eyes flitted to the side.

You loved Rhys like a brother, and you fought with him like siblings do. That was why the last thing you'd done before leaving Velaris was force him to lift the banishment... and then you'd punched him in the face.

“I wasn’t exactly happy with him when I found out he banished you to the Continent. And to the Midlands too. I’ve heard it’s terribly boring here.” 

Azriel smiled, and this time it was a genuine one full of love and relief, “Everywhere is terribly boring without you. And terribly painful.” 

“That’s a very good answer.” You replied, feeling that a great weight had been lifted off your chest.

He held you in a gentle caress, tracing your brow bone and the curve of your lips and committing the feeling of you to memory.

This was real. This was real. This was real.

You both folded in on each other like paper houses laid to rest, until you were tangled up on the floor. There was a perfectly functional bed not even four feet away, but even that seemed like too much effort after everything that had happened. 

Azriel wrapped his wings protectively around you, settling down with his head against your chest so he could hear your heartbeat. You hummed in tired contentment, peppering his forehead with kisses as your eyelids began to droop. 

“I want to go home, Azriel,” You murmured, “I want to go home with you.” 

Home. 

Azriel swallowed thickly, “We’ll leave tomorrow first thing in the morning. I promise.” 

You opened a bleary eye, examining your mate quietly, “Do you not want to say goodbye?” 

Azriel kissed your chest, right over your heart. Thirty years ago he would have said yes. He would have taken time to get his affairs in order and to make sure Jadhan and his sons, Phaedra and Devra, and the rest were taken care of. But things had changed, and he knew that no matter what, they would be alright. They would live and travel and fall in love. If they were lucky, they’d experience the joy of dying in their sleep surrounded by loved ones at the end of a long and eventful road. 

“No. No, I don’t think so.” 

You pressed one final kiss to his forehead, absorbing him in the warmth of your arms. Azriel sighed, hanging onto the golden thread in his chest that wrapped around his soul and bound him to you. 

“They’ll be ok, my love.” You murmured.

And so will we. You whispered the promise down the bond, soft and gentle. 

He closed his eyes, pressing the words I love you into your skin.

“I know.” He whispered to the night sky once your breathing had evened out, “I know.” 

That night at the tavern felt like a dream - the kind that left you groggy and awestruck when you initially awoke, and then slipped away like water cupped in a child’s hands. 

Everything seemed louder than before, even though the townspeople walked about in a contemplative daze. It was the forest. That’s what it was. It hummed more brightly. The blanket of power that had rested over the treetops for decades had lifted overnight. 

No one spoke of the events aloud - they were too aware of the enormity of what they’d witnessed - but they all knew the truth.

The Shadowsinger had finally been called home. 

___

“Quick!” Alzhar’s eldest son, Samu, called out to the twins. They hobbled over as quickly as their stout legs could carry them. 

“Samu,” Niran whined, “I’m tired.”

“Papa said to be back by dark.” Rhaan reminded them all. The only trademark that separated him from his twin brother was the flash of blond through his ruddy brown hair. White-tailed deer they called him.

“I want dinner.” 

“Me too.” 

Samu looked over the hills where the sun was sliding down the sky like rain on a window.

“But we haven’t found the house yet!” He protested.

“We’ve been searching for days.”

“Yeah, we’ve been searching for days.” Niran parroted.

“Of course we have!” He threw his hands up in the air, “Did you really think the Shadowhouse would be easy to find?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head, “Go back if you’re so scared. I’ll look for it myself.” 

Niran and Rhaan looked at each other, identical frowns pulling at their lips. They wanted to prove their worth, but they were still younger than Samu, and their hunger mattered more.

“We’re telling Mama you didn’t listen.”

“I want your dessert.”

“Wait, no. I want it. Can we share?”

“I’m not sharing!”

Samu smiled triumphantly and stomped further into the woods, leaving the twins to their usual bickering.

The little boy sprinted back home hours later, a gleeful kick in his step. The sky was already turned pitch black, but the Mother had sprinkled out the stars like salt to guide him home.

Devra stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, swollen belly blocking out the roaring firelight like an eclipse. 

“Where have you been?” She gasped out, grabbing Samu’s head and holding him close to her stomach. Samu loved when she did this, convinced that his newest sibling would talk to him first. 

Niran and Rhaan wanted another brother to tussle with, but Samu was hoping for a sister. She could tussle with them too, he was sure.

He ignored her question, grabbing her hand and hauling her back inside, “Papa! BaBa! I found it! I found the Shadowhouse.” 

Niran and Rhaan popped out from their bedroom, clambering after their older brother as he dragged their mother along.

Jadhan and Alzhar looked up with relief. Jadhan’s hair had turned white as snow in his old age and hints of gray were beginning to sprout from Alzhar’s temples.

“Papa!”

“Samu, what have we told you about staying out past-”

“The Shadowsinger left something for you and Baba.”

“What?!” Jadhan sat up straighter, grimacing at the painful twist of his leg. He motioned his grandson closer, helping him climb onto the bed.

The little boy dropped the blue-velvet bag into his outstretched hands, leaning back on his heels with rapt attention. Samu, being the boy that he was, hadn’t opened it on the whole journey over and was now buzzing to learn what secrets it held within.

Jadhan was immediately startled by the weight of the parcel. 

“Open it!”

“Wait! I want to see!” 

“Help me up!” 

Alzhar and Devra relented, picking up the twins and leaning close. Their own curiosity was itching to be satisfied.

Jadhan opened the bag and tipped it over spilling dozens of gold coins onto the quilt. Devra gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. Alzhar didn’t bother hiding his shock, his mouth agape. 

It was more money than they’d ever seen in their lives, Jadhan didn’t concern himself with it - he hadn’t had to worry about money in a long while. Instead, he picked up the slip of paper that had also fallen out, carefully unfolding it with trembling, wrinkled fingers.

For all the drinks “on the house” and for your son, Mikhail, who traveled to the edges of the Continent and made it possible for my mate to find me and bring me home.

Scrawled on the lower edge of the paper were more words, cramped and small like they’d been jotted down as an after-thought. 

Also, your whiskey is absolutely disgusting. Never let anyone else drink it.

Everyone stilled, watching Jadhan carefully. 

Without warning, the old man tipped his head back and roared with laughter.

Samu leaned back in surprise. His grandfather was a naturally solemn man, and he'd never heard him laugh so loudly and so fiercely.

Alzhar reached for the slip of paper, skimming the words quickly.

"No!" He cried out in disbelief, "Stop! This can't be. Devra, look-"

One by one the adults fell into fits of roaring laughter, collapsing onto Jadhan's bed or onto the floor. Even the boys cheered - confused but happy to be part of whatever story had just finished unfolding.

Jadhan was seventy-one years old when he died, and he died laughing, surrounded by his family at the end of a long road.

Down the street in the tavern, the band was still playing the same old songs, although they were being performed by yet another generation of songbirds. But, there was one new addition to the repertoire.

A song penned by Phaedra and aptly named The Ballad of the Shadowsinger years before her quiet passing. 

It was always the last song of the night. Always. And it ended like this: 

Come Solstice day

Come wind or rain

Now calls the heather

The Midlands will have no reason to dismay

For the Shadowsinger has been called home again

___________

Another author's note:

I feel like I threw in so many new human characters so I made a family tree. Ha!

Also, please enjoy the small essay I wrote last night after writing this oneshot...

From last night:

Listen, some red flags are just pale orange scraps of fabric when you’re an immortal non-human being who’s been alive for hundreds of years. Don’t come for me. I’m so tired. It’s 3am. I should sleep. 

Ok, note from Florence B at 3:16am because I am making CONNECTIONS. Not all of this was intentional, but maybe it was? Maybe I’m just stringing connections after the fact.  Maybe I’m a genius. Probably not, but still. I’m so tired, guys. Why am I doing this right now? I should be sleeping but I can’t sleep so I’m going to do this instead.

Buckle down folks for the essay I am about to write: 

I have my qualms about the ACOTAR books, as I’m sure most people do. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful reads and it’s the series that got me back into reading after college, but they’re not perfect by any means.

One thing I think that gets brushed under the rug (especially given how ALL the batboys fall for girls who are literally in their late teens/mid-twenties - it’s a major red flag but we forgive because it’s fiction) is how DIFFERENTLY fae experience time. LIke, these fuckers live hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of years. The only way they die is if they get killed, like purposely poisoned or stabbed or whatever have you. I tried to write this/touch upon this when Azriel describes how he’s jealous of Jadhan for his humanity and how no matter what, Azriel is stuck potentially living an ETERNITY with the reality of what he’s done. It’s why for me - personally - all the stuff about the mate bond driving males mad or the choice that Rhysand and Feyre make to bind their lives to one another kind of makes sense. Like, if I was faced with an eternal life sentence in a world that was as brutal and cruel as the ACOTAR universe is, HECK YEAH I MIGHT BIND MY LIFE TO SOMETHING/SOMEONE I CARED ABOUT! I’M NOT DOING THIS SHIT ALONE! You’ve gotta retire from the game at SOME point. 

I know I probably made things really confusing by introducing a whole host of human characters spanning several generations (re: the family tree up above), but as I previously mentioned, I thought it was important to do this to contextualize/compare the lifespan of a fae to a normal human. While Jadhan is growing up, getting a job, getting married, having kids, Azriel is still struggling with his banishment to the Midlands and his own sense of self-worth. The line about Jadhan approaching Azriel and offering him money to kill his abusive father who broke his leg was thrown in there later on around the 1am mark. And I didn’t think of it much - I just wanted a reason for Azriel to know Jadhan personally throughout his life from childhood to old age. BUT! Now that I think I’m thinking about it more, it makes sense that Azriel would be able to accept Y/n’s forgiveness so quickly. He sees a lot of himself in young Jadhan and by helping him escape his abusive father(albeit by violent means) and watching him grow up into a strong man and a good father, Azriel’s helping heal his own inner child. 

The kids! Oh my goodness I love the kids so much. Once I threw the first kid into the story I thought - fuck it, we’re going to make the parallelism painfully obvious with Azriel seeing himself, Rhys, and Cassian mirrored in Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik. Then of course I had to bring things around full circle and give Alzhar three boys and a girl on the way (yes, Devra is pregnant with a girl and Samu is going to shower her with all the love that Rhys gave his own sister). 

Finally, I’m going to address any comments about Y/n forgiving Azriel too quickly. 1) I feel like it is a universally acknowledged/unacknowledged truth that no one hates Azriel as much as he hates himself. And no punishment could ever be worse than the self-loathing he feels for himself (NOTE: people, if a partner/romantic love interest/friend/crush/whatever EVER says this kind of stuff to you, drop them like a two-ton boulder. That’s a major red flag, but once again this is a fictional man/fae so we can let it slide). 2) Once again, these fae are literally HUNDREDS OF YEARS OLD. I can only speak for myself when I say this, but I feel like if I had known and loved someone for that long, I would be willing to forgive a lot and trust that time might be able to heal deeper wounds than humans are used to. Time is precious to us humans, we can’t always afford to wait and hope for things to get better on their own, but fae can. 

Are those all my thoughts? I think those are all my thoughts. It’s 3:47am now. Oh jeez. To future me: I’m so sorry if you have to read this and it’s bad and you have a coffee-fueled headache all day because I fucked things up for us. 

[daydream-believin]

uh oh im gonna commit a cardinal sin real quick and repost art when i have no clue who drew it. look you just need to see it okay i’ve been thinking about it with sad wet eyes all month and it’s one of the top inspirations for. all this. geez…

anyway @spirit-of-the-hollow *ding ding ding ding* congrats you’ve just done today’s Secret Slime Action [Figure It Out, 1997]

man i didnt even send any of this to my beta-reader. if you see this im sorry 😅 proceed with caution and if you don’t like it meet me in the back of the 7/11 to fight (you know, discord lmao)

warnings: suggestive like a couple times. that 18+ ain’t indicative of any smut sorry

SO!

Touch-starved Headcanons for One Michael Afton (18+MDNI)

* oh 100% you know his ass is touched-starved af

* okay i know i only mentioned this on ao3 but LMAO same. but as i’ve said in fic before, it makes your brain a little stupid

* but the thing about mikey is he so deeply believes he doesn’t deserve it. or at least, that he’s not a person that physical affection should be given to

* so when you start showering him in love it’s a bit confusing to him at first

* at first it’s just all the gentle subtle little touches. he’s half convinced it’s all in his head and you’re just like that with everyone. but wait, no you’re not. he watches you (perhaps a little more than he should. babygirl get off those security cameras) and no one else gets the treatment he does

* a comforting back touch here, a purposeful brush of hands there. driving him up the wall.

* no one else is getting their hair combed through with your fingers and their tie straightened. no one else has your arm casually draped over their shoulder when you stand/sit beside them.

* what does it mean? WHAT DOES IT MEAN

* it means you love him, dumbass

* and once mike realizes that he just gets so flustered

* you grabbing his hand to press a quick peck to the top of his knuckles? face on fire. you know, if he had blood to warm him

* you like him? youre flirting with him??

* hold his hand and do the thumb strokey thing. it turns his brain off.

* if you see michael hanging around, come up behind him and tap his shoulder to get his attention. he startles a bit (its cute) but once he realizes its just you and not a blood-thirsty animatronic he’s always so happy to see you. you don’t have to say anything, just tap the mask he’s wearing and he’ll move it to let you give him a little kiss. or two. or three. with the mask held up to hide the two of you of course. just like the movies. and there’s no need for the kids to see you snogging (eww, yucky!)

* and when you stop holding his hand, when you stop kissing him, it feels like you just branded him. the phantom feeling of your touch lingers. he’ll still be thinking about it long after you’ve left the room.

* a real turning point, a hallmark in your relationship, when you hugged him one night, and pressed your entire body into his, and he practically melted into you in turn. and then he didn’t want to let go, so he didn’t. but then you didn’t either. so you two just stayed there, embracing so close your shadow looked like only one person. he could feel your heartbeat against his empty chest and that’s when he really cemented it into his brain that he may have some bigger feelings than he wanted to, like he loves you loves you.. oh no… (i’d go on.. but spoilers lol)

* still, he just can’t believe it’s him. smelly rotting accidentally-fratricidal zombies shouldn’t have people who love them like that and definitely shouldn’t have people willing to touch them. you’re a loony bird, that’s what.

* but once he’s accepted that you’re actually into him and he gets nice and comfy in the relationship? hooo boy

* more like hoe boy— *sound of me getting shot and falling off stage*

* you’ve replaced half his thoughts. instead of reliving his most horrible memories 24/7, now he takes ample breaks to relive moments where your hungry hands were getting their fill. and your sweet face and voice amd personality too of course. but damn, touch him and all he wants is more.

* hands on you always. whether he does it absent-mindedly just so he can reassure himself you’re there, or whether he does it very much on purpose? he’s just a very touchy-touchy man for no goddamn reason (my mans can’t even get it up.. yet. everbody say thank you remnant healing 0////0)

* not like you don’t love every second of it though. “oh no my boyfriend won’t stop giving me affection” literally the most non-problem ever. like get out of here

* ever at the counter? making food at home or standing around the prize booth at the pizzeria? doesn’t matter where, there is a 90% chance you will wind up wrapped in his arms. michael adores holding you, nuzzling his face in your neck, right on those sensitive arteries. it’s pretty distracting, ngl

* and you know what? you get it. seeing michael just standing there, perfect prey for a ‘surprise’ hug from behind? you can’t resist the instinct either. it’s a ton of fun to hang on him and make him lose focus on whatever he’s doing. two can play at that game. and he loves it when you hold him, he absolutely lives for it. it makes him feel safe for once in this miserable horror game y’all call a life

* if y’all are at home? he lets you nose nuzzle him. even if he’s only got like less than half a nose at this point, still lets you rub your snoot all up in his. he’ll even initiate every now and then. it’s especially adorable

* sometimes you just lie on your back in bed or on the couch for some rest, and michael nestles himself on top of you, resting his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. he loves your heartbeat. and sometimes you’ll hold his face in your hands, letting your thumbs trail over his cheekbones as he gazes up at you softly. and sometimes… uh.. well look he is in between your legs here too so. don’t look at me.

* ah but speaking of cuddles. you are now a giant hot water bottle. every night he sleeps with as much of his body draped over you as he possibly can, doesnt matter what position you sleep in, mikey is a fucking koala and you are the last eucalyptus tree in queensland

* at least he’s pretty cool. like you might be a giant hot water bottle but he’s a cooling weighted blanket. that corpse chill is pretty great for beating the utah heat

* so yeah. in conclusion. like. give him just a little taste of that sweet physical touch love language and he’s gonna go bonkers. totally mental, as he might say.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely, i hope youre having a good day.

Could i request a poly!maruaders (maybe +lily or bff lily) where reader is either muggleborn or a half-blood and does every day tasks normally (ie. redecorating, dying hair, climbimg to get something up high, looking for something theyve lost, painstakingly repairing something, trying to navigate in the dark). Maybe reader has convinced lily and Remus to help her spring clean and redecorate and they both just automatically go about it a muggle way. And when Sirius and James come to find them later theyre so confused because for them thats always been done with magic.

I have sent a very similar request to someome else before (think its been 2+ months) but i dont think they posted for it. Just in case they do i wanted to let you know. Also no pressure.

Regardless, i love you 🩶

Hi angel! I decided to do this with platonic (or, if you like, pre-relationship) marauders+Lily, and I know you said spring cleaning but my roomie and I just decorated for Halloween and I’ve got that on the brain so I’ve taken more than one liberty haha but I hope you like it <33 Love you too!!

platonic!marauders (+Lily) x reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Do you think this would look alright here?” you ask, stretching your arm as high as you can to pin the middle of the leafy garland to the wall. 

Lily hums contemplatively. “I don’t think that’s quite the middle. A bit to the left?”

You reach leftwards, tottering on your stepping stool, and Remus steadies you with his hands at your waist before you can fall. 

“Here, I’ve got it,” he offers, encouraging you to step down and taking your place. He makes the reach look easy (it’s hardly a reach for him, you suppose), taping the garland in place. “How’s that?” he asks, and you step back beside Lily, assessing. 

“It looks great,” you decide. “Thanks!” 

“‘Course, love.” He grins at you as he steps down, going back to dusting off your mantle. You’re immensely grateful for your friends’ help, the quiet between you companionable as you each work on your tasks, your Rumours record playing softly in the corner. You’d been a bit down about cleaning and decorating your first apartment all by yourself, and Lily had all but invited herself over, offering to keep you company. This morning, she’d shown up with Remus and a bucket full of cleaning supplies, and neither of them would hear your protests about not wanting them to labor for you. Remus had become immediately obsessed with all the dusty surfaces you’ve yet to clean since moving in a week ago, and Lily claims she’s going to make cookies after she’s finished cleaning the oven, so your apartment will smell cozy and homey. 

You’re not sure how you managed to snag such fantastic friends, but just as you’re about to tell them so for the upteenth time since they’ve arrived, your door creaks open. 

“You can’t just leave the front door unlocked,” James says, aghast. “You’re a young girl living on your own, shortcake. Exercise some caution.” 

Sirius breezes by James with a small box in his hands, and you accept the one-armed hug he offers you with faint confusion. Your friends are welcome anytime, but you hadn’t been expecting anyone other than Lily today and you worry the apartment is far from guest-ready. “I usually lock it,” you defend yourself. “It’s just that we’ve been in and out all morning. Anyway, who’s going to murder me with everyone here?” 

“Well, they won’t now that I’m here,” James allows, pecking you on the cheek amicably. “But if you were thinking Lily and Moony could defend you all by themselves, then I’m even more worried about you.” He receives matching exasperated glares from your friends, but ignores them, surveying the apartment. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.” 

“Thanks.” You beam, proud of your little apartment. It had been a bit run-down when you’d first moved in, but the morning’s efforts have really brightened the space. “Did you come by to see it? I’m not sure it’s quite ready for a tour yet, unless you’re alright with dust.”

“A lot,” Remus says wearily, “of dust.” 

“We thought we’d bring you a housewarming gift,” Sirius says, opening the lid of the box to reveal a cake. In cursive frosting, it reads Congratulations, graduate!, but someone’s struck through graduate and scrawled, in messy writing underneath, homeowner. 

You laugh. “Thanks, that’s so sweet! Um, you guys know I’m renting this place, right?”

“We know,” Sirius agrees. “But apparently they only do custom writing if you order, like, way in advance, and we didn’t have enough room to put congratulations on your first big girl apartment ourselves.” 

Remus snorts, but immediately begins sneezing after inhaling some dust from the mantle, and Lily comes over to admire the cake. “I think it’s lovely as it is,” she says, and you hastily agree. You love it, and you love them all the more for it, your sweetheart friends. “Still, Remus and I have been here all morning, so I think our housewarming gift is a bit better.” 

James laughs disbelievingly. “What’s your gift?”

“Cleaning and decorating,” Remus says, having recovered from his fit. “Bit more of a time commitment than a cake.” His voice takes on a slight haughtiness, and Lily smirks. 

“What, all day?” Sirius shakes his head. “That takes ten seconds.” 

“Not the muggle way,” Lily says. 

Sirius’ eyebrows shoot up, and James’ gaze sweeps over the room more intentionally, lingering on the unswept floor, the decorations still in their boxes. “Why in Merlin’s name would you do it the muggle way?” he sounds vaguely horrified. “We could charm this done right now.” 

Sirius nods, sliding his wand from his sleeve as if he intends to do just that, but you clamp a hand around his wrist. “That takes all the fun out of it!” 

“Dollface,” Sirius says slowly, looking at you like you’ve lost it, “how is laboring all morning to accomplish what could be done with a simple spell fun?”

You wave your hands about, gesturing vaguely to the room at large. “I don’t know, it’s about the simple things. You listen to music, and do things the slow way, and you get to choose where your stuff goes instead of letting the spell choose for you.” 

“And,” Lily adds, “it’s satisfying to know that you did it yourself. Like these cookies, which are going to be way better than if I charmed them to bake themselves.” She pauses, glancing at the cake. “By the way, you’re going to have a ton of sweets on your hands, Y/N.” 

“Oh, I was under no impression I’d be eating all this by myself,” you say, somewhat appalled. “Won’t you guys stay and help me with them? I can get us takeaway.” 

Sirius and James help with more than that. Neither of them will touch a broom (frankly, they have trouble wrapping their heads around the idea that some are used for more than flying), but they help you arrange your fake pumpkins on the newly dusted mantle, and bicker over whether they should charm your candles to float like in the great hall or leave them on the coffee table. 

By the time you make good on your offer of ordering takeaway, almost every crevice of your apartment has been cleaned, and it’s smelling like cookies and looking seasonally festive. Remus nips to the store to get a couple bottles of wine for you all, and you and James end up sitting on the floor to eat while Lily declares she’s taking you shopping for more chairs tomorrow. The cake is fantastic, but the company is better, and of all the things you’d wanted to decorate your first apartment with, you think you like filling it with your friends best. 

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

i was rereading pda and thinking about how fortunate it is no one corrected kais assumption that just the three of them got together. like first of all who POSSIBLY could the three of them have gotten with. the only viable option would be remy if he hadnt so clearly just started dating emile. and anyway hed only ever shown interest in roman. dating a fae is so out of left field it probably wouldnt have even crossed anyones minds even if they did say there were 4 of them

like how do you even begin to process that. oh my 3 friends whove been very visibly pining over eachother for 10+ years got together, great. theyre also hitched with a fairy prince who they technically only just met last week because hes been in a hundred year coma. none of us have any reason to trust he wouldnt kill us all at a moments notice and everyones spent their entire lives terrified of the fae (in fact all 3 of these people have extra reasons to fear them) but he is in a polyamorous relationship with 3 of my friends and they all seem to not think its a big deal i guess. no one could possibly have expected this how do you even go about explaining that

no youre so right. really, where do LMP get off in the first year extras acting like their friends are being wildly unreasonable about their sweetheart boyfriend. theres a reason Group Chat opens like that and its certainly not an unreasonable amount of caution. XD

[marley-manson]

I would love to hear any "director's commentary" you have on Army Style. It's one of my favorite MASH fics and I love not only the attention to historical details but everyone's characterization.

Thank you for asking! And thank you for the comment, I'm super stoked that it's one of your faves 💖

fic is here

ask meme is here

I basically had the idea when I was disappointed by how the later seasons had way fewer gay jokes than the early seasons lol, and I wanted to headcanon an explanation for that, so I had this idea that Hawkeye had a close call with a blue discharge and started playing it a lot safer afterwards.

I didn't really consider writing a fic though until I started doing a lot of hobby reading on midcentury gay history alongside Mash, and having a lot of thoughts on historical accuracy in fic and feeling like I was getting enough of a sense of the time period that I could maybe do a half decent job at exploring it.

I cited the main book that was my inspiration in the author's notes, Coming Out Under Fire by Allan Bérubé, but in addition to that I was reading like, One Magazine, Gay New York by George Chauncey, old 40s and 50s Canadian tabloid letters to the editor featuring debates about gay rights lol, this site which is a v cool resource, The Lavender Scare by David Johnson, Gay Talk by Bruce Rogers, Letters to One and Masked Voices by Craig Loftin, a little blue book on homosexuality published in like the 20s that I could imagine Hawkeye reading as a kid... not that all of these sources are necessary for authenticity or anything, and I definitely wasn't reading them just for the fic lol I'm not that into research, but I figure a director's commentary is a good place to make a list of various things I happened to be reading that helped inform the fic.

Another motivation for writing this was like... idk, wanting an alternative to fics and headcanons where everyone knows Hawkeye is bi and supports him or looks the other way because the 4077 is one big happy family, but not wanting an angst fest where he gets discharged or everyone turns on him and he loses his friends because now they know, etc. I just kinda felt like the most realistic thing that would happen if someone accused Hawkeye of homosexuality was this - the cast would largely support him but more because they don't believe it, rather than because they're allies or family. And that's its own source of more lowkey, subtle angst, which is my bag baby.

So I guess I have an agenda in wanting to show that Hawkeye isn't really an open secret despite the jokes, largely because he's charismatic and good at making friends and very good at his job. No one would want to believe it.

There's no real dividing line where the jokes have a steep drop off imo, but between seasons 7+8 felt like a natural place to set it, and I liked incorporating the notorious joke with Flagg as an inciting incident.

For a while I was thinking it would be pretty short and just like, Hawkeye being accused and denying it and the rest of the cast vouching for him, all set at the 4077. I considered having him sent to a hospital when I read a section about it in Coming Out Under Fire, but I was like 'nooo that's so much work I don't wanna.'

And then as I wrote it the fic just went that direction anyway so I rolled with it and did my best.

Gonna do a bit of a play by play now, scanning through the fic and seeing what stands out to me to comment on.

-- Hawkeye makes like 3 times as many gay jokes as usual at the start of this fic because a) they're really fun to write, and b) I think it makes sense for Hawkeye who tends to say exactly what's on his mind. It's what he's worried about and thinking about, so it's what keeps coming out of his mouth. Plus I read the jokes in canon as not so much Hawkeye throwing caution to the wind, as Hawkeye knowing that it's a way he can be open to some extent about how he feels - the way he always wants to be emotionally genuine - without actually drawing suspicion. He goes a little overboard but everyone who knows him is like 'yeah not surprised, Hawkeye gonna Hawkeye.' So he's generally right about the jokes being safe.

-- I wanted all of the supporting cast to have a different reaction to the investigation. Radar is the least supportive and most homophobic about it, because honestly that just fits how I see him. He's canonically uncomfortable with a lot of Hawkeye's jokes, sometimes mildly like a long-suffering little brother but sometimes weirdly hostile about it lol. I think he'd believe it's true pretty quick and be disturbed by it, but be swayed by Hawkeye denying it and reminding him of their friendship, because he doesn't want to believe it. Also by this point in the series he's pretty grouchy in general.

-- And I have Klinger as the only one who knows Hawkeye's bi and doesn't give a fuck, because I believe that's true in my soul and I didn't feel like it even needed an explanation lol. But the explanation in my head is that Hawkeye rolled up to the 4077 on his first day, saw Klinger in a dress, thought 'wow that's bold' and asked him where the gay scene on campus is with hardly any deniability in his phrasing. And Klinger was like, lol why does this keep happening, and pointed him to some of the other people who did the exact same thing (including Trapper), and they all have a monthly poker night (which Klinger goes to too even though he insists he's straight.)

-- The interview in general was fun to write. Hawkeye breezing through at first, until the revelation that it's not about Flagg's report throws him off, and then the reminder of Tommy's death sending him into rant mode. Hawkeye's confident and charismatic so it takes something extra to make him fuck up here. It did take a lot of rewriting to feel like it escalated smoothly and made sense emotionally though.

-- I'm kinda proud of the little twist of this fic lol. Hawkeye having already been reported by Tommy's lover ages ago, unbeknownst to him because the dude only knew of him as "Hawkeye" and no one could connect that name to "Benjamin Pierce" until Flagg's report. It was a fun way of using the fact that Hawkeye goes by a nickname as a plot point. It was also a good way of making it so the jokes aren't actually the problem and Hawkeye is right about how they're pretty safe - if it was just Flagg's report it would've been laughed off and thrown away. And it's a way of including the army coercing names out of people, since I didn't have them trying that with Hawkeye at the hospital.

-- “Lieutenant Jacobs is married.” Said with a mild glare at Hawkeye. “Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to propose to her.”

lol I only included this to push back against the common misconception that Hawkeye is morally against sleeping with married women.

-- I had a whole issue with misremembering GFA being set in Tokyo instead of Seoul when I wrote this, so I just wrote with the assumption that Sidney worked at a different hospital and this was a different hospital than the one in GFA so the descriptions were all different, etc, and then I realized my mistake and had to rewrite everything and give a reason for Sidney to be elsewhere lol. On the plus side I got to add in some ominous GFA foreshadowing towards the end.

-- hmmm upon scanning through the fic I've noticed that I had Potter referring to Tommy's boyfriend as 'the kid' at one point, which is kind of funny because I'd used that casual phrasing a couple more times before realizing it could sound kind of skeevy and edited it out. I was envisioning him as like 19-21ish though lol so it makes sense that it slipped through. Anyway everyone's a kid from Potter's perspective, even if he shouldn't know his age.

-- I always wonder about GFA and Hawkeye's claustrophobia, whether he was locked in his room at all. Despite it not being mentioned in GFA I figured I had to address it a little because I like Hawkeye's claustrophobia, so I had Hawkeye feeling a little freaked out but not too bad because it's a big enough ward.

-- I hate writing OCs. I'm not creative, I have zero interest in inventing people, it's a big chore. I usually pick names by looking at bookshelves or lists of people and mixing and matching first and last names at random. Hopefully you can't tell from reading this lol since there are several OCs. I tried to write them pragmatically, to fill a role in the story, and make their vibe consistent. And they're all minor characters so they don't really have to be fleshed out much at least.

-- This was written as a long one shot but when I was finished I figured it would probably be a more approachable read if it was divided into two parts.

-- BJ is awkwardly dancing around the possibility that the accusation is true in his own mind. For me BJ's whole thing is denial lol, I have a few wips from his point of view as well and they're all about him avoiding some kind of truth or revelation. He takes the path of least resistance when he can.

No, if there was even a tiny kernel of truth in the accusation about his friend, it was nothing more than maybe one youthful, experimental indiscretion. Nothing that meant anything about him now, and nothing the army had any business digging up. Radar was just a kid, after all. He didn’t understand the difference.

Also couldn't resist vaguely implying that BJ might've exchanged handjobs with a friend back in the day himself lol.

-- Hawkeye was a happy, confident, successful guy, about as far from the self-loathing, secretive neurotics you read about in the tabloids as you could get.

I also wanted to include this to show how being popular and charismatic and cool could be protection from these accusations. This is something Coming Out Under Fire actually got into - how you were more likely to get accused and discharged if you weren't likeable, whereas funny cool likeable guys got away with camping it up all the time. And the most important thing in the army especially was competence, which Hawkeye also has in spades.

-- The nurses discussion was self indulgent lol, and came out of reading about how widely read and impactful the kinsey report was. DeGroot was a very late addition because I wanted more negative consequences and an example of the witchhunting vibe. Margaret's musing at the end is maybe a little bit redundant after BJ, I realize now lol, since I also kind of imply she had a lesbian experience or two, but it's ambiguous and maybe more easily read as her having had a gay friend. I definitely wasn't aiming for an 'everyone at the 4077 is queer' vibe for this lol, but tbf it's historically accurate for army medical units and the WAC to be statistically very gay.

-- Got to get into some of my Hawkeye headcanons for the interview with McKay, which was fun. I always imagine Daniel Pierce as fairly leftist and cool, which is why Hawkeye is so brash and confident. And Hawkeye has been a popular kid all his life to me, he's no former awkward nerd or wallflower or bullied weird kid. Not homecoming king but friends with him sums his childhood up to me.

-- Not sure Hawkeye should cavalierly mention living in sin with Carlye upon reflection lol, but I don't think it was illegal? Anti-cohabitation laws wrt men and women living together were a thing, but I'm sure would have varied from place to place. I tried to research this once but couldn't find much info though.

-- “Did you imagine marrying her often?” “All the time,” Hawkeye lied. “If she’d said anything before leaving I would’ve proposed on the spot.” That was probably true, honestly. But, with all the clarity of hindsight twice over, he knew it would’ve been a mistake. Carlye wanted things from him that he didn’t have to give; it would’ve dissolved anyway, whether into divorce or into unhappy affairs. She’d probably known that long before he’d figured it out.

My thoughts on their relationship in a nutshell lol. Marriage far from Hawk's mind but something he definitely would've done if she'd asked, and then regretted in short order because they're just not compatible.

-- “Do you want to have children?” “Absolutely.” Whether they were in the cards was anyone’s guess, but given the opportunity he’d order half a dozen.

I see Hawkeye liking kids and potentially wanting kids and being a great father if he had them, but never actually having kids and being fine with that too. And not because of GFA either (though it doesn't help), but because in my headcanons he eventually ends up in a committed relationship with a dude. I have a post-canon wip I will finish where he does find a way to have both, in a way.

-- lol this medical interlude was such a pain to research and write, but I guess I felt like I needed some kind of action so that the whole hospital sequence wasn't just introspection, plus it's an illustration of how poorly they're treated, and how great Hawkeye is in the face of it.

-- Also I really enjoy writing a pissed off Hawkeye pov, his humour gets so biting when he's in a bad mood, and I really lean into that when writing his inner monologue. I might exaggerate that a bit honestly - it happens sometimes in the show, but sometimes he's just humourless when upset. But in my fics he's never humourless lol, unless maybe he's being really emotionally supportive for someone.

-- “I blame the war,” he lied. Blaming the war was like blaming a fire for burning down his house. No, he blamed the arsonists: Truman, MacArthur, America, every army involved, every American Tommy was trying to educate with his book, whoever the hell ordered him into that battle, Tommy’s recruiting officer, Tommy, and his own damn self for not immediately diagnosing him with a heart murmur or sawing off his leg and getting him sent home as soon as he found him in Korea.

I looove the way Hawkeye assigns responsibility to people, rather than treating the war like an inevitability.

-- (oh, sure, he supported the president. He was supplying the guy with half his reading material; he should be earning a salary as Truman's personal entertainer)

Also loooove that it's a recurring thing that Hawkeye writes to the president lol, I absolutely headcanon it as regular stress relief for him.

-- “You know there’s no physiological difference between degenerates and fine, upstanding members of society, right?” he said as he disrobed. “Have you read up on the literature?” the doctor asked, far from innocently. He had, as a matter of fact.

This is a historically accurate depiction of two different professional opinions on the subject, as far as I could tell from my reading, and army doctors did use like hips to waist ratio and various other measurements as evidence of homosexuality. The gag reflex thing is accurate too.

-- I enjoyed how I wrote Potter in this fic as Hawkeye's number one ally but also the representative of the army who Hawkeye doesn't fully trust, and who protects Hawkeye because he's his friend and a good surgeon and an asset to the unit, rather than because he disagrees with the army ideologically. To him it's a stupid thing to care about because Hawkeye is saving lives and investigations are a lot of hassle, but he's not gonna be, like, calling General Imbrie to plead the nurse's case.

There's something weirdly satisfying about writing Potter in general in a "good" role, because I don't like him on the show much and it's fun to kind of subtlely play with his flaws without making him an antagonist.

-- Highlighting the gay ward's party vibe at this point in the story and Hawkeye finding it comforting is mainly a way to make the ending feel worse lol.

And if he did get out of here scot free, then what? Keep his head held high and his sense of humor alive and kicking, or put his head down and just get to the end of the war without losing his surgical career?

The former, he told himself. It had gotten him through almost two years, not just without getting caught, but without losing his mind. One stumble wasn't enough to justify calling off the marathon. And the thought of wrapping himself in olive drab and marching in time with everyone else was so sad it made him want to cry. No. He’d make it through the rest of the war, and he’d do it without changing himself to suit the straight-laced, and just plain straight, sensibilities of his overlords. Then he’d go back home to Boston, take back his old job, and fuck the first guy to look him up and down, just to prove he could.

Like by grouping 'not changing in the army' together with 'going home and fucking a man first thing' I'm implying that Hawkeye's maybe a little overly optimistic here, and the hesitation he ends the fic on might extend back home too.

This is absolutely counter to everything I believe about Hawkeye post war lmao, I 100% envision him living a gay life outside of work, and even in the context of this fic I'd prefer to imagine it as a psychological barrier he'll overcome rather than an ominous omen that he's gonna fully closet himself and live heterosexually ever after, but yk. I also like sadness and misery and the army ruining everything, and that's what this fic is all about, so I gotta at least imply it as a possibility.

-- lol this final good cop bad cop style interview was another very late addition partly so the hospital stay didn't just trail off awkwardly, and partly to parallel the army as a whole. Like the good cop pointedly resembles Potter and Potter even echoes him when he says "who needs the paperwork?"

The point is just that this is a small scale version of what I see happening to Hawkeye throughout the show and this fic, between dad figure Potter and other friendly military faces and the bad cop of military authority behind them, like the whole investigation. He catches the trick in this scene, but on a grander scale he does succumb to that authority more and more as the show goes on, and in this fic ultimately Potter wins a victory over him in a sense with Hawkeye toning himself down to fall in line more.

-- He kept the regulation boxers and socks he’d put on that morning — the underwear he’d arrived in was mixed with the rest of the laundry now, so he figured he was entitled — and everything else went down a laundry chute. “So long,” he sing-songed out loud as he sent them off. “Let’s not meet again.”

lol one of a few ominous GFA references towards the end here as he leaves the hospital (for now)

-- I think my one regret is not having Charles at the welcome back celebration. Honestly I just kinda forgot lol, and his absence feels conspicuous upon re-read.

-- And yeah, love me a bittersweet ending and I think this one was successful. Hawkeye beats the charges, but is confronted with the conditionality of his friendships and cowed into hiding himself a little more along the way. Love that kind of shit.

[invis-o-william]

Day 2: Wish

All Amity Parkers knew that “wish” was practically a forbidden word. Years of interactions with Desiree had all but guaranteed that. Younger children weren’t even taught the word anymore out of an abundance of caution, after all nobody wanted a repeat of the “Toddler Wish-mageddon” that had occurred just a year prior. The firemen had been cleaning chocolate syrup out of the streets for weeks afterwards. This left the naive and unassuming newcomers as targets for Desire’s power, many of whom didn’t quite believe the city moniker of “The Most Haunted Place on Earth” yet. One of those newcomers was Thomas Kincade, and one way or another he too would learn the consequences of the word “wish”.

. . .

Thomas had barely lived in Amity Park a week before his coworkers started messing with him. He had just been sitting down in the breakroom for lunch when Craig from accounting had sidled up in the next chair.

“Oh hey Tom,you’re new to town, right?” he asked while grabbing a bowl from his bag.

Thomas hummed an affirmative while digging through the box chock full of leftover lo mein that his wife had left him that morning. “Yeah, just moved from Springfield like a week and a half ago, why? Also, it's Thomas.”

Craig pointed a fork his way, “Well you should probably invest in a lunch bag or something. That box is a prime target for the Box Ghost you know. He’s usually pretty harmless, but he’ll definitely steal that thing in a heartbeat if he sees you with it man.” He accentuated his point by tapping on said box with his fork.

Thomas sighed. Although he’d only lived in the city for under two weeks, he’d already seen more than enough of the “ghost tourist trap” schtick. “You can give the “ghost” thing a rest Craig, I think I’ll be fine.” he said with a roll of his eyes.

Craig shrugged, “Alright Tommy, don’t say I didn’t warn you. You transplants never quite believe it at first anyway.”

“It’s Thomas.” Thomas said pointedly. Craig made a noncommittal noise before digging into his meal.

. . .

The next day it happened again. Thomas was working at his computer when his deskmate Maria leaned over the divider.

“Hey Tim, did you see the news this morning?” she asked excitedly.

Slightly irritated, Thomas looked up. “No, I didn’t. And it’s Thomas.”

Maria didn’t seem to hear him as she waved her hands around, “They got some footage of the fight between Phantom and that big metal ghost last night on the corner of Park Place and Amity Row! It looked so intense, and the big ghost is so cool looking!” She practically squealed the last words.

Thomas groaned and let his head fall back. “Look, I get it, you guys are pulling my leg, ‘ha-ha lets haze the newbie’ kind of stuff, but its getting old.”

Huffing, Maria crossed her arms. “How long have you been here now? Two weeks? You can’t tell me that you haven’t seen one of the ghosts yet! Hell, blob ghosts are so common I’m surprised one hasn’t popped into your yard yet” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Just hope you don’t encounter any big ones, you definitely don’t want to run into the Fenton’s with their tank-on-wheels.”

With a sigh and a shake of his head Thomas turned back to his work as Maria shrugged and did the same.

. . .

Thomas was getting fed up. Everyone kept talking about ghosts. “Phantom’s been seen here” and “The whisps have been really active lately” and all that crap. How long was everyone going to pull this? Not to mention that nobody wanted to call him anything but nicknames. Why was calling him Thomas so hard for them???

The last straw was his boss stopping by his desk an hour before quitting time.

“Hey Timbo, everyone on the floor is going to head over to the Mitty Boulevard Bistro after work for dinner, company’s treat. Want to join?” he said, leaning an arm on the desk divider.

Thomas’ eye twitched. “Yeah, sure that’s fine. And please. It’s Thomas.”

His boss smiled, “Great! Originally we were going to head over to the Mexican place on Park Place, but they’re closed for cleanup from that ghost fight last night.”

“Yeah! You can thank Phantom for that, honestly the Bistro is sooo good. I like Mexican food and all, but you gotta try the Bistro’s fries Tim!” Maria said, perking up from her seat.

Thomas had had it. “Ghosts this, ghosts that! I’m so sick of this! Just give it a rest already! And my name. Is. THOMAS. Not Tim, not Tommy, just Thomas!” he cried as he picked up his coat and lunch box. “If this is how all of you are going to treat me, then count me out of the dinner. Honestly I wish you guys would just cut it out already!”

Everyone in the office went deadly silent and stared at Thomas with wide eyes.

“Thomas,” began Maria, “you shouldn’t say that word. I’m sorry that we were teasing you so much about your name, but you really shouldn’t say that word.”

Thomas scoffed, “What word?”

Everyone looked around nervously, “The “w” word,” his boss said, “there’s a ghost who grants them, usually in the worst ways possible.”

Thomas threw his hands up in the air. “What, wish? Now you’re telling me that there’s a wish-granting ghost? If there was, I'd wish she’d make you all see sense right now because ghosts aren’t real!”

The office was deadly still and many held their breath. There was always a chance Desiree wasn’t around, but some still expected her to appear and grant the wish.

Instead the Box Ghost popped in out of nowhere, grabbed Thomas’ lunch box, shouted “BEWARE!”, and vanished.

Thomas could say he knew better now to pack his lunch in a bag.

[luxheroica]

under your tree (3/3)

Part 3/3 - Ekko, ???, and the tree. An epilogue

Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed along the way, thank you for allowing me to express how much I love these two characters.

Part 1

Part 2

Also on AO3

---

How he drags himself back up after the memorial, Ekko will never quite be sure. 

The Firelights need him. Zaun needs him, now more than ever, and after everything he gave his promise. It’s harder than it ever was before, to get back up and keep at it. His fight was always about making the city better for his people– and now there are so few of them left. 

But he’s damned if he’s going to just give up. 

I’ve never seen you give up on anything, Ekko.

He wanders until he’s at the tree. The leaves are green and vital, the arcane spillover that was slowly poisoning the ancient tree gone with Viktor’s final sacrifice. The Firelights still call it their home– only it is no longer a closely guarded secret. Any who wish to come can, and there they can find a meal and a warm drink and a place to mourn their dead and a warm hand to hold. 

“How did you do it?” he’d asked that other-Vander, on one of his few-and-far-between breaks from building the Z-Drive. “How did you unify Zaun? With all the warring factions and everyone out for themselves…” 

And Vander had smiled and said, “Mostly, some cussed good luck. But I’ll tell you what, it started with building a community right here– and then fighting for it.” 

And Ekko is trying to build a community where he is. Some days it’s harder than others. 

There isn't any space left on the wall to depict those they’ve lost along the way, and he doesn't even know all their faces to draw them anyways. 

He easily finds the drawings that Jinx made, with their neon bright colors standing out from all the rest. He traces the paint with his hands. 

After the battle was over he looked for her. He found Vi instead, broken and grieving. Her reaction told him all he needed to know. 

How many times do I have to lose you? 

He still remembers the time they spent together. Too short, and an eternity all at once. It hadn’t been easy– her pain had come spilling out of her in explosive ways, and his caution had time to rear its ugly head– but in those scant days they had found a kind of equilibrium between them. Working on turning her lab into a flying weapon of war, intertwining their ideas together until at last they had something that might turn the tide of Ambessa’s ambition. In the quiet moments, Ekko dying her hair and Jinx altering his clothes (which didn't always remain on), and kissing her until they were both breathless. 

It reminded him sometimes, of that other Powder in the other universe. Building something together, something that would help the world. 

And now she is dead. 

He traces the lines of her drawing with his fingers. Misses her. 

Then he starts to paint. There is no space on the wall and so he covers the lines of Powder's portrait with Jinx. Changing her hair, updating her eyes, turning her at last into an older version of herself. 

At last his hands are covered in blue paint, but there she is– immortalized on the wall. Another one of his ghosts. 

“You really think I'm dead, huh?” 

Ekko whirls around. The figure coming towards him is wrapped in a cloak. She walks with a limp and her face is scarred. There is still a trace of telltale blue peeking out from underneath her hood. 

“Wha–how–?” 

He stares dumbfounded as she takes down her hood. She is unmistakably Jinx. There is a wide burn scar across half her face, but still she grins and she is as wild and as vital as ever.

“Miss me?” 

Ekko rushes forward. Envelops her in a crushing hug. She nearly buckles under his weight. “Easy there tiger–” she starts to say, and then he kisses her. She relaxes into the kiss. 

Ekko pulls back, not quite sure if she's real… but she is. He cradles her face between his hands. “How are you–?” 

“Alive? Blast knocked me clear,” Jinx explains succinctly. “Then I think one of those hexgate things activated and I got tossed halfway to Kumangra. It’s been a wild ride getting back, believe me.” 

Ekko laughs. It bubbles up out of him, unable to be suppressed. He’s just… happy. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.” 

“Someday, maybe.” And her tone isn’t like he’s ever heard it, not for years. It’s far off and quiet. 

Ekko takes her hand in his. Holds it tight. Holds onto her. 

“Have you told Vi?” he asks. “That you’re alive?” 

She shakes her head. And from the set of her mouth– wistful, resigned– he knows that she doesn’t plan to. 

“Jinx is dead, remember?” she gestures up to the portrait he’s just finished painting for her. “It’s better for her– better for everyone– if she stays that way. If she remembers me as the sister who saved her, maybe she can finally let me go. But, I wanted you to know.”

She turns towards him, and her expression is fond and faraway.  

Ekko understands in that moment that she’s not staying. He twines his fingers tighter with hers, like he might hold her here by the strength of his will alone. But holding onto her is light holding onto an explosion– the tighter you try, the more it will hurt. 

He relaxes his grip, and her fingers slip from his. 

“When am I gonna stop losing you?” 

His voice is choked. 

She smiles, leans forward and kisses the bridge of his nose. “Hey,” she says. “If you keep losing me, I guess that means I always come back, right?” 

He smiles slowly. Her fingers find his and they gently twine together. Not clutching or holding tight just touching. For this moment and this moment alone. 

“Like a lucky penny.” 

She laughs. Looks up, and her face is dappled with golden light. “Or a tree, that just keeps coming back.” 

“Where are you gonna go?” 

She cocks her head. Shrugs her shoulders. He thinks, she has finally shed the weight of everything weighing her down. “No clue. Somewhere far away. Someplace that’s never heard of Piltover or Zaun or any of this.” 

“I want to ask to come with you,” Ekko admits. 

Jinx smiles. She understands him, maybe better than anyone else ever has. “But you won’t. Cause you’re the Boy Savior, and this place needs you.” 

Zaun and Piltover are to be one city. A common enemy has forged them into one being. Sevika apparently got herself a place on the council. He hopes it will stick. But he knows that their problems aren’t so easily solved, and old hatreds have a way of rearing their ugly heads, and without some threat breathing down their necks people will remember the old ways of power and privilege. In the meantime, somebody’s got to be here to build something worth hanging onto. 

“You could do a lot of good here,” Ekko offers. 

Jinx’s answering look is wistful and sad. “I think I would have liked that– just building things with you.” 

Ekko nods. It hurts, right in that place to the left of his ribcage, but it’s a different kind of ache from before. This, he thinks, is more manageable. She laces her fingers between his and kisses him slowly and deliberately and he knows it is goodbye. Ekko savors the taste of her, presses back into her, making sure she won’t forget him. 

Then she pulls away. Untangles their fingers. She takes two steps away and hops off the platform, and Ekko remains at the tree watching her go. She wanders off, still dappled by that sunlight, light as the wind. 

Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind. 

What’s one more goodbye?

He isn’t expecting her to turn back, to look over her shoulder at him. 

“Five years,” Jinx calls. Ekko raises his eyebrows at her. “Give me five years– to get my head on straight, to see the world, to figure out who I’m gonna be next. If you’re here in five years– meet me here.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Ekko shouts back. “Shine the place up nicely for you!” 

“You’d better!” 

She throws a peace sign over her eye. Grins. 

And then she is gone. 

Ekko waits for a long time. Leans against the wall and watches the patterns of green-and-gold light from the leaves of the tree. Then at last he looks up at her portrait on the wall and sighs. Smiles.

“Well, time to get to it.” 

---

True to her word, she comes back. True to his word, he is waiting. 

[lunaeclips]

Here is how far I am in writing my book/novel/whatever I'm doing.

I want feedback on how good it is, what needs changed, and I also need a title because you can't have an untitled book.

(Prologue) Many people believe there to be some sort of god, and the ones who don’t traditionally think that the universe is all on its own and that anything sentient has to have originated from a planet with advanced life. I, however, am part of a small group of people who believe that there are four higher powers, each of which being stronger than the last. No one else in the group is brave enough to go on the journey to search for them though, leaving it all to me. 

Some people have called us a cult, and to be fair, we certainly act like one. There are a few key differences though, one being that none of us worship any of the higher powers, we just believe that they are there. This is a sort of retelling of the story, with some parts being filled in by the others. Please, sit back and read, have some water and food as well, because this story is one hell of a ride.

(Chapter one: The Awakening) “Where is that damn satchel!” Brush yelled, growing more and more frustrated with every failed attempt at finding it. We were meeting at his house, due to him wanting to show something that was very important and yet he couldn’t find it. I’ve always found it funny when people couldn’t find something they lost, even if I was the one who was hiding it. “Maple, where did you put it?” Marsh said. Marsh was the leader of the group, and being the oldest sibling in her family, she often took control of sparratic situations like this. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, Marsh,” I said “Maybe blame someone else for once?”

“Just get it out, it might actually be important and if it is, we need it.” She was being more demanding now, a tell-tale sign of her becoming agitated. “Fiiiiine, but stop blaming me, ok?” “I’m not promising anything like that to you, Maple.” She said, yanking the satchel out of my grip. Everyone sat at their designated spots around the circle as Marsh called for the meeting to be officially started.

“So,” Brush started, “We all know that there is a special artifact that leads us to one of the powers, right?”

Everyone nodded, with a few sparse yeah’s and yes’s scattered around.

He dramatically pulled a glowing orb out of the satchel. It was small enough to easily fit into the palm of one’s hand. “I found this while wandering around the woods, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I thought that maybe this could be that artifact.” He held it out for everyone to see, glowing with a substance unknown to the planet. 

Everyone leaned in, hoping to get a better look at the strange orb. He passed it towards Bristle, who took it with glee, looking at every detail they could before passng it to Brush. It slowly passed around the circle of people, landing last on Maple, who took it into her hands with much more caution than the others. She inspected the stuff inside, a swirling mass of black and another color that keeps changing by the second. 

What could this be? Maple wondered, racking her brain of vast knowlege on the legends of the four powers. As soon as it started to click, Marsh yanked it from her hands, making her train of thought fly off and everyone jumped at the suddenness of the action. 

“What’d you do that for?!” yelled Brush, angry at him for doing that.

“She was getting too handsy,” he explained “and I found it anyway so I should get a say on what happens.” At that statment, everyone started to shout at him, saying things similar to “That’s not how this works!” or “Are you serious?!”

The only person not talking was Maple, trying to catch that train of thought that had almost given her the answer, but it was to no avail because as her parents always said, If you lose something incomprehensible, it’ll take a while to get it back.

@aroacedragongirl @sombrathedragon @inkyxsmiles @yellow-computer-mouse @gay-witches-are-the-best @scrollwyrm @spookys1fan @verrixstudios

[guplia]

Hello anon! First of all, thanks for the ask! (asks? idk I received three anon asks at almost the same time, it would be weird if they didn't all come from the same person lol)

fic recommendations? read mine /hj Sure! Just note that while I've enjoyed a lot of wips, I'm only gonna recommend completed fics rn.

Okay! Here's all I can remember rn:

"Clouds" by youngmoInactive (fanfiction.net):

Original summary:

"Even though he's a hero, he's still a human. CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH. A nice look into Kai's perspective as he watches a close friend slowly lose a fight for his life."

Okay all I've gotta say on this one is that IT MADE ME CRY. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Obviously I can't speak for everyone who read this fic but I think this will hurt Lloyd lovers. I have re-read it so many times to the point where I have half the fic memorised word-by-word. This is a must-read.

(if you're on the phone it's better to add "m." To the start of the URL)

"a day in the life of a fatherless child" by holographicknife (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"lloyd has a panic attack *confetti* title suggested by my friend lol loosely based on a crack rp between friend and i   Warning for: mentions of suicidal thoughts and medication, explicit descriptions of a panic attack, including tight chest, difficulty breathing, nausea, and headaches. Proceed with caution."

This is a Kai And Lloyd fic, and I love Kai And Lloyd fics! Specifically ones where they address Lloyd's trauma from Morro and where Kai comforts him. So if anyone's into this sort of stuff I'd recommend it!

"A Courageous Escape" by Lilac_Lily234 (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"In the midst of possession Morro hatred flows freely as he seeks to make Lloyd suffer for taking what he believes as his rightful title, but his cruelty know no bounds; Lloyd however refuses to give up but knows that time is running out, and in his desperation will find either salvation, or death.  - I don't own Ninjago, this is an au"

Ahem... once again, Lloyd goes through pain. A season 5 canon-divergent AU, from which my favourite part was... you guessed it! Lloyd having a panic attack and being comforted! But it's still a cool story besides too, season 5 being one of the best seasons imo.

While this fic is finished, the AU is not but I think this one has a good ending on its own.

"Out for revenge" by lloyd_slander (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Harumi’s plan to resurrect Lord Garmadon failed, during her time in Kryptarium prison she heard about Morro, the master of wind, and guy who had managed to make Lloyd’s life a living hell. Wanting revenge, she doesn’t stop from anything, not even from getting Morro back from the dead. Or The duo we always wanted, but never got. Lloyd is in for a hard time. Head the tags, guys!"

Okay. This one is rated Mature for drug usage and blood (there was nothing sexual though)

So it's a Morro traumatising Lloyd fic again, but this time he's with Harumi! So it's double trouble for Lloyd! (things go VERY BAD for him >:3)

Honestly I can't say much except read the fic, the summary's right there lol.

"Revealed" by Nation_Ustria (Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Lloyd Garmadon is used to being hated. That's just how his life works—if someone knows that he's the son of the warlord who attacks Ninjago City on a weekly basis, they hate his guts. That's why he's made sure that his team—the only people he's ever been happy with—don't know who he is behind the mask, with the small price attached that he doesn't know their identities, either. It's not like they know each other's, anyways, so it's not a big deal. But then they find out. The fact that Lloyd's elemental power makes him an empath doesn't help, either. Basically the premise of the movie pre-reveal with show elements and personalities, and Lloyd's Green Power is him being able to sense and be influenced by the emotions of those around him."

Okay so here's a fic without Morro! (that's cause it's in the movie-verse) Another type of fanfic I like reading is where Lloyd in tlnm keeps his identity secret from the other ninja and it ends up getting revealed (like this one.).

I've seen this fic being recommended more than once and it's one of the fics with the most kudos in the entire fandom on AO3! So 2000 others agree with me on how awesome this fic is!!!

"What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger" by @crystaleclipse10 (CrystalEclipse on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Lloyd batted Red's hand away. “’m fine.” His head pounded, but at least it was quiet and dark. His hair tickled his nose. “What happened?” “We…didn’t get out in time,” Red whispered. “The missile exploded. We got everyone else out, though.” Lloyd relaxed and slumped forward as pure relief washed over him. They’d done it. They’d beaten Garmadon’s game. They’d freed the civilians and survived. Didn’t feel great, though. ~OR~ Lloyd and Kai get trapped under a building when it collapses, both injured. Angst and bonding ensue."

So it's another tlnm au fic! And this one has Kai And Lloyd bonding specific so I like it!!!

As I was reading this when it was still being updated I was very excited every time a new chapter would come out and my heart hurt for Lloyd each time! It IS worth the read! Just note that while tis fic is completed, the au is not.

"Officer Smith, Do You Copy?" by @hijabiwriter (same username on Archive of Our Own):

Original summary:

"Everyone has their reasons for becoming a police officer. Maybe they were forced. Maybe the profession stood out to them. Maybe they had some experience that prompted the idea of becoming a police officer. But that's only a few reasons. There are others, too. Like for instance, one of these officers is out for revenge."

This fic is entered around Nya, who's a police officer alongside Jay, Cole and Lloyd (for some reason Zane is not in this au/fic). Anyways her dark secrets are explored in every other chapter alongside the progressing story, and of course, an explanation is given to everything in the end.

On a personal note this is the fic where I left my first comment on my Ao3 account lol (the historic moment is on chapter 13!!!)

"Too Late to Say Goodbye" by @greenamethyst16 (same username on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Kai gets stabbed and Lloyd helps him... :D"

I think length-wise this is the shortest fic on the list but that doesn't make it bad!!! Basically Lloyd downplays his injuries and there are consequences... :D

"All the ways I say "I love you"" by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off (Leonardo_Charles_BlueWood_21 on Archive of Our Own)

Original summary:

"Cole loves his team. They're his family and he does everything in his power to keep them safe and steady. He does his best to let them know he cares about them in every way but one.  Or  Seven times Cole couldn't quite say "I love you," and the one time he could."

Note: This story can only be read if you're logged in on AO3.

I like this fic because it encouraged me to remind my own irl friends how much they mean to me. In this story Cole believes that he's "the rock" of the team, and hence he doesn't show his emotions much. He's never told even one of them that he loves them and thinks that they deserve better than him. So stuff happens after that :D

Okay, I've read a lot more than this but this is all I'm gonna write about now cause I'm tired and I think this post has became too long. But if you wanna read more just check out the profiles of the writers! I haven't read everything myself but most of them have other good Ninjago fics to read!

If I've tagged you or mentioned your fic and you want it removed just let me know! I have no problem with removing it! :D

[hannahssimblr]

After art class on Wednesday morning I purposefully take longer than everybody else does to pack away my pencils and gather up the sheets of paper I was working from, slotting them meticulously inside the hard cover of my sketchbook so that the corners won’t get crushed inside the disorganised chaos of my school bag. Evan waits by the door tentatively waiting for me in case I might want to have lunch with him again, but I wave him away, I’ll talk to him after school, and when he’s gone it’s just me and the teacher, the last ones in the room. 

Miss O’Reilly is busy organising papers on her desk. She is separating the watercolour sheets from the cartridge and stacking them into neat little piles for the paper shelf, and doesn't seem to realise I am there until I address her. 

“Miss?” 

She glances up, “Yes?” 

My fingers fidget with the zipper of my bag, pulling it open then closed again. The sound it makes is probably annoying but I can’t seem to stop myself. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course, what is it?” 

I approach her desk with caution as I enter this unfamiliar territory, reaching out to a teacher, risking vulnerability, but Miss O’Reilly doesn’t seem to think it weird that I want to speak with her. She simply leans against the front of her desk with an open expression, smiling warmly at me as if I am not the student who routinely ignores what she is saying in class, talks over her and interrupts her lessons by throwing bits of eraser into Philip Delaney’s mad ginger frizz. 

“I’ve been thinking about college, miss.”

“Well that’s good!”

“Yeah, um, I think I want to… like, do… art?” I exhale in a rush. I don’t fully understand why I am so nervous to speak, especially when, so far, she’s being nice. She doesn’t even look like she’s going to laugh, like she’s thinking about doing it soon, or even like she's holding it in so that she can do it later in the staff room with the other teachers. Still I keep my guard up, waiting for her features to twist into a sneer.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Miss O’Reilly beams, and her eyes flick to that drawing I did of Michelle a couple of months ago and which she pinned up on the wall for everyone to see. She’s using it as an example to other students of the right things to do, the right way to capture a perfect likeness, and I should be flattered, but its presence embarrasses me. It is a symbol of my earnest effort, hard work, in which I am not known for, and I wish she would take it down and hide it. I don’t want others to know that I have tried. 

“Do you?”

“Yes! And I'm glad that you've said that, honestly. You’re one of the students in my classes who shows a lot of promise, and who I think could really do well in art school, and I know it’s not often a popular choice with parents, but I think there’s a lot of value in an art degree if you’re passionate about it,” She moves around to the front of her desk and begins rummaging in a drawer. “Here,” She produces a form and hands it to me, “These are the portfolio requirements for some colleges. It seems like a lot, but normally students take a year to do a portfolio course in a local college before applying to university.”

A year out? To just work on my portfolio? The thought of delaying my exit from Dublin for an extra twelve months makes me queasy, but my eyes flit over the paper in my hands anyway. It’s all about figure studies and expression, colour work, painting, charcoal, pencil…

“I don’t want to go to college in Dublin,” I manage, handing it back to her. “I want to move away. And I want to do my portfolio soon, so that I can do that as soon as I can.”

She eyes me curiously, “Alright… Well, there are heaps of options for international study...”

“Yeah, I think that’s what I want.” 

“Do you study French?” 

“No, German,” German, which I chose in first year because I am lazy and it seemed easy at first. The words were just like eccentric cousins of English ones that could all be squished together into hilariously long streams of letters that my friends and I would laugh about. Schwarzwälderkirschtorte. I’ll never forget that one, nor will I Krankenwagen, Backpfeifengesicht, Schadenfreude. All of us lazy boys who didn’t want to make the effort with French took German, whose words actually sounded the way they were written. I admire directness in people, so I expect it in languages too. French is underhanded, insincere. Why speak one that makes you work so hard? It’s absurd. 

“Well,” Miss O’Reilly goes back to her drawer for more shuffling, “Have you considered studying in Germany? Or the UK? There are lots of great universities abroad.”

“I never thought very far ahead,” I admit, “I just know I don’t want to study here.”

“Okay, well, at least that narrows it down some. Have a look at some of these in your free time,” She slots a small stack of forms into my hand, to which I stare dumbly at. The barrage of information is a visual assault with all of these bullet points and new abbreviated words, application fees this, UCAS that… 

I must look stricken as I feel, because Miss O’Reilly softens, “or you could come back to me when I have a few moments free and we can go through it all together. I know it’s a lot to take in, and usually we don’t go so much into depth with fifth years. This kind of thing is for next year, and usually we try not to overwhelm kids with too many decisions too soon.”

“I know, I just think I’d like a head start. Especially if there’s all these, um, requirements.”

“Well, as I said, a portfolio preparation course at a local college-”

“I don’t want to do that.”

She blinks, “Right.”

“I really just want to go somewhere new, miss. I’m willing to work hard at every chance I get to do it, I’ll make art all summer, I’ll have the best portfolio ever-”

She laughs, “I’m sure you will! I don’t doubt you at all, Jude, you’re a wonderful artist and I’m willing to help you with your work whenever there’s time to.”

“Well I don’t do Irish,” I say, “I’m exempt, so I have a free class every day where I usually just try and do my homework…”

“Well come to my class then, even when I’m teaching other years, you can sit down at the back of my lessons and just do your own thing, get working on those figure studies, the paintings, whatever. As long as you don’t cause trouble…” she eyes me warily, “It’s not a problem.”

“Really?” I don’t mean to sound so overwhelmingly grateful to her, as though I’m on the brink of falling to my knees and worshipping her, but truly, I am in slight disbelief at her offer. Most of my interactions with the teachers in this school have been of them snapping fingers in my face, rolling their eyes, calling me out of class so that they can berate me loudly in the hallway while my gleeful classmates crowd around listening at the glass panel in the doorway. It’s almost hard to believe that I have found one who is intent on being supportive.

“Yeah,” she says, and she’s distracted by the crowd of third years piling into the room behind me. “Come by any time between classes, I’m happy to help.”

“Thanks, miss.”

“No problem at all,” she turns to the hoard, “hello everyone! Art history today!” and they let out a collective groan as I slip out into the hallway. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[milkplusvn]

Happy New Year 2025 from MILK+ VISUAL!

(Download a hi-res version of this image off our Patreon to make your wallpaper!)

Hey, everyone!

It’s been a while since something’s been posted that isn’t on the Patreon. 2024 was overall a tumultuous time, impacting the delivery of multiple things (Soundless artbook, website redesign, etc.) and resulting in a lot of radio silence on our end. Such a shame after 2023 was such an active year for us!

In 2024, we also saw quite a lot of change in the landscape of social media. This has left us with one place gone (Cohost), another about to disappear (TikTok, though we didn’t post there much in the first place), and a third looking a lot less viable for any further posting beyond major announcements (Twitter). We also gained a new space—Bluesky—and, in the wake of ever-growing crackdowns on adult content creators, changed what we put up on our Patreon out of an abundance of caution. If there’s one thing we can say we released amidst all of this upheaval, it’s the 2023 Premium Story Collection, our first ever paid item to ever be released.

So, in the wake of delays and all sorts of wary weirdness going on in the country we are unfortunately established in, what now?

We keep moving.

Who knows what will happen? We will go through this year cautiously with that in mind. There’s no sweeping roadplan here. I still live in an iffy situation, which means I lack quite a lot of resources, from having the money to prioritize anything other than getting work to medication access. This is what primarily caused the failure to deliver on 2024’s goals.

Another driver in our feet getting dragged is weighing our options in switching to more adult-friendly platforms and how we can manage our social media when the world is moving incredibly quickly. I’ll let the earlier paragraph about our social media getting all switched up speak for this bit. It’s kind of hard to work on anything when you have to spend a couple hours setting up new accounts or writing goodbye messages!

And a third driver, though very minor, is a reexamination of what 7388, our next game, should really be about. Back in 2018, learning language models that generated responses were pieces of rudimentary AI technology that most didn’t really care for or even know about. Making quirky and likable LLM AI characters for the audience to sympathize with didn’t come with any ethical baggage. Now, we must ask the question: Should Energy-Guzzling AI Girl Merope become worthy of being a Marketable Plushie? Will someone recreate the Torture Nexus if I make her a little too fun? Writing sci-fi was so much more fun when there weren’t armies of wealthy losers who can’t read and like to pay people to make resource-eating gizmos for them.

There’s a solution to this that I’ve come up with. 7388 is so early in development that making a major directional switch isn’t really going to do any damage. It’ll look familiar on its surface, but the underlying story is completely different.

…But I’m getting ahead of myself. I have to finish that artbook…Next time we think about an artbook, it’s going to be when we can pay someone to design it…

Anyways, that post was sad. We hope you had some wonderful holidays! And we also hope, very deeply, that we can bring you great things this year!

[merilaurecus]

SO I ACCIDENTALLY MADE UP A BESTIE FOR MY TAV™️ AND THEY HAVE A BACKSTORY ON HOW THEY MET

Meet Ineth, M'eril's best friend (her real name is Maria but she made one up and it grew on her).

She's from our world but got yeeted into Faerûn six years prior to the events of the game and met M'eril a year after that. Her hair (dyed black) stayed the same because the Weave got a bluescreen when she got into Faerûn. The second she noticed M'eril is on the nautiloid too she was, despite the situation, happy. M'eril has no clue she's not from Faerûn (perception checks aren't his speciality to say the least).

She's a gloomstalker ranger, although she wishes she could learn magic (no, she won't romance Gale because he canonically ends up with M'eril). But she'll learn from Gale on the road.

Ineth worships Tymora (because of the luck she had while travelling alone; her leaving Elturel right before it got whooped into Avernus being the biggest example). She's also afraid of horses, given that she'll fall for Zevlor, a Hellrider, she'll have to overcome this one 😅 so she has seen him before but not for a long time and rather from the distance, but she already admired his horse riding skills (and was scared of the beast anyway).

Now, off to the story ✨

@preciouslittlebhaalbae I finally have a good established isekai come look ♥️

The temple seemed to have been left for a long time. Nature began to reclaim its territory with tree roots sprouting everywhere and flowers blooming from what appeared to be most randomly chosen places. Structure of the building was getting weaker but not dangerous to anyone just yet.

M’eril sat down in front of the fire. That was his place for the night and his vigil. A silent mission he chose. Or more likely Ancients did, he corrected himself in his thoughts. Half-elf looked around, drinking the sight in. How harmonic it looked. Nature and civilization met and clashed, the remains of the temple being the living witness, every brick and every stone watching these changes.

He only wondered who was worshipped here or what happened that made the people leave it. He was in awe but part of his mind kept asking questions. A temple in the middle of the deep part of the forest. That puzzled him, but he had a mission.

This was supposed to be a sleepless night. Late night dinner made of rations he packed earlier and a cup of coffee to keep him awake. He didn't even want to think of falling into trance. Being only a half-elf his ability to trance like a full-blooded elf was surprising to everyone. Not a single time in his life has he experienced a dream nor a nightmare. He could only wonder how it felt while listening to his fellow paladins without such ability. It was quite fascinating but sometimes terrifying when he heard some of his friends waking up screaming in the middle of the night. He never dared to leave their side until dawn, even if they managed to get back into more peaceful slumber. He’d  simply lay next to them and trance, keeping in mind what happened earlier and remembering to watch over that person.

But now he was alone. It was his goal to keep vigil here. Surrounded by nature and shielded by the light of the fire, now dancing on the walls.

He kept focused on the flames and tenets of his oath.

What he didn't expect was a loud thud in another room. Sounded like a body has hit the ground.

M'eril quickly stood up and despite being able to see in the dark used a light spell. Never too much caution, his mother used to tell him.

Room was next to the chamber he occupied and was much smaller. He looked around and found the source of the noise.

A human woman was laying on the floor, if not for the thud he'd think she was asleep. Now he wasn't sure if she was asleep or unconscious. She looked rather young, probably in her twenties, and small, but that could be said about many people he met in his life. It was human genes that manifested in a major part of his appearance, the only exceptions being his golden eyes, pointed ears and delicate facial features. Other than that he was tall, massive and muscular, much like his father. But the woman in front of him seemed very delicate. Giving up on the spell he freed his other hand and lifted her up, she was light like a feather.

He looked around.

- An adventurer with no backpack? Huh, that's a novelty - he said to himself, looking around once again.

He put her down next to the fire and then noticed that she was definitely unconscious. She was very thin, pale and in the cold spring night she was freezing, her lips being already in the shade of purple rather than the usual pink. He also noticed small wounds on her hand, due to her being in full leather armour he couldn't see much more and if there's anything to heal so he focused on warming her up first.

Besides from her petite frame he noticed her black hair, raven skull earrings and overall sympathy towards colour black. Eerie, he thought but held himself from the judgement. Maybe it was a mere aesthetic choice.

But on the other hand, she was very pale. His heart raced when he thought what it could mean. He kneeled in front of her studying her neck up close in search of a bite mark.

That's when she opened her eyes. Blue eyes. He thanked the gods for not sending a vampire his way.

- Whoa, when I'll need a true lover's kiss I'll find someone I actually know - she sat up - What were you doing?

- Looking for signs of you being undead.

- Oh thank you, mighty warrior, but you just found someone who likes black and happens to be the palest of them all even in the full summer! - she reached her hand out, grining - I'm Ineth.

- M’eril. What were you doing here?

- Trying to sleep. Although I was ungodly beaten up so I passed out instead. How about you?

- I'm… staying vigil. Or at least tried to.

- Noble. Are you a paladin? - she smiled, knowing she was safe.

- Yes. Ancients, to be precise. You then must be either a rogue or a ranger - he looked at her. She was already playing with one of her daggers unknowingly.

- A mix of both, really - she seemed to be avoiding saying more but he chose not to press on her. She needed help, not more questions.

- Good. But I assume you're adventuring, where is your backpack?

- I had to leave it quickly, and had some nasty lynxes after me. One managed to scratch me a few times before I escaped.

- Show me - Ineth unfastened part of her armor, revealing deep scratches - I can heal that. I'd better do - a young woman nodded her head and allowed M’eril to do his magic.

Within a few minutes all the wounds were more or less gone.

- Thank you. And I'm sorry to disturb your vigil, I should be going - she stood up but suddenly a noticeable shiver went through her entire body.

- No. Stay. When I found you, you were freezing and I see you're only partially better. Let me watch over you tonight. Seems Ancients want it this way.

Ineth’s eyes widened for a solid second, she seemed to be debating herself, but finally she gave in:

- Fine, Mr. Feywarden. I'll stay, your oath will be in one piece and I won't freeze to death. Seems like a good deal. Though I'm afraid just fire won't do much. I'm still cold as hell.

When their eyes met the air felt heavy like lead.

- Wait! No… I didn' mean it that way. But in desperate situations it's the best option. And I must admit, that for a moment I'm kind of desperate. I yield. If you're not okay with tha - sentence was cut short by M’eril. He pulled Ineth close to him, knowing it'll be the best for both of them. He called upon his inner light and allowed it to flow from him to her.

- Okay, last thing I expected was having a living radiator pulling me close but here I am.

- A... radiator?

- One day I'll explain. Now… there's a vigil to hold, right? - she smiled, burying herself into his arms. Wasn't too hard for someone her size.

- Right. Impero tibi - her mind didn't even try to resist the spell.

Good night, Ineth, he thought to himself, holding her close. She was still a bit cold but with his magic at work and fire close to them both everything was on its way to being fine.

[ethers-moth]

Autistic people with the same special interests (the two of you) are about to have a field day.

So. Repo! The genetic opera. The magnus archives. The Archival Repo!. The Repo! Archives.

Anyway

Shiloh is developing corruption

- bug collector

- not a full blown avatar but is kind of in the Jonathan Sims position to be influenced by a LOT of them

- feeds on Nathan’s anxiety (she thinks it’s her illness, but it’s more likely just dread that he’s a failure of a parent. He is.) (I love him why is he like that)

- 17 has her say “I always longed for true affection, but you compared me to a corpse”, so when she leaves at the end of the movie that signifies her evolution into an avatar (or rejection of it?) bc she is left with nothing but her bugs. We don’t really know

Nathan is either Slaughter or Hunt

- I definitely am more inclined for hunt for Nathan

- the hunting at the beginning and later when he and Shiloh are on the phone he definitely could do it a lot faster and less dramatically

- he definitely enjoys it is my point

- “thankless job” is also a prime example of his feelings on this job and or its moral implications

- obviously he’s unstable too and that influences jt but he kind of reminds me of Daisy Tonner where he’s over the ethical issue mostly

Luigi is definitely slaughter

- there’s not a really a need for question man is violent and angry I feel like there’s no question he shanks and yells and gets half naked for fun.

- his treatment of the gentern bringing coffee is a great example, he had no reason to freak out other than. Being like that. And also bc he can

- that’s about it actually he feeds on subordinates fear of his unforgiving temper it’s pretty CUT and dry

Pavi is. Hmmm. Flesh??

- I’m stuck on this one, however I think flesh fits best

- his face stealing reminds me of specific serial killer behaviors (usually due to parental issues) that involve using others body parts, usually skin (Ed Gein with his skin suit of his mother I think??) though I think his environment is part of why the face thing is a little less wrong in canon. Idk he’s a fucking FREAK okay

- also we never see his actual face so I feel an argument that it’s tied with dysmorphia isn’t unreasonable

- Pavi feeds off of adoration (even if it’s fake) from the Genterns as well as the fear of having your face skinned

- seriously what is wrong with him

- with the Genterns his boisting of “ask a gentern who they prefer” and overtly unacceptable sexual behavior (“my brother and sister should fuck”) feel like someone who wants validation and attention even if it’s not positive attention

Amber is Flesh too

- I think for a different reason from Pavi, she doesn’t have ��inferiority” Dysmorphia that I think he has

- instead, I think Ambers behaviors are “superiority” dysmorphia (both terms I made up)

- in Ambers case she’s changing her appearance to cope with a shifting sense of self and strive for perfection caused by her notoriety and never being told no

- Amber feeds off of being desired and seen and is one of the most famous people in the known canon universe, but her blatant jealousy of Mag really depicts her motivation for perfection

- she also feeds herself to graverobber for drugs (deleted song ‘try my new parts’) I don’t care how good their surgical techniques are nobody is healing their hole that fast without hurting themselves somehow

- basically if Pavi is MAG 90 Amber is MAGP 2

Graverobber is End or Buried

- the end is for obvious reasons with corpse robbing and his lack of fear or caution around death @brainvomitintheparkinglot ‘s idea

- for buried, he’s literally a crack dealer

- he basically feeds the entire cities drug supply (trapping them in addiction that is hard to escape)

- the web usually deals with addiction but I don’t think he has manipulative or controlling motivation, he just works the system against other people

(Rottis corporation supplying everyone is the web, graverobber is a chunk of dust caught in it)

- as shown with Amber, he wont supply without money either, hypothetically pushing his clients into further debt (esp if they have geneco loans) AND addiction

- graverobber feeds off of the metaphorical suffocating nature of debt and addiction as mentioned, and well as literal suffocation

- following the drug thread, I will be treating zydrate like Heroin, in the idea it can be a powder or liquid (even though we only see it as a liquid in canon)

- like most painkilling drugs it can be assumed zydrate can induce vomit and therefore asphyxiation OR in the case of a powder that is inhaled, generally that isn’t optimal for breathing

- also graverobber is probably covered in corpse dust and like. Anthrax

Rotti is web (again, thank you @brainvomitintheparkinglot)

- his company owns the entire city (corporatocrocy)

- he literally controls everyone, his money controls his fucked up kids, and the entire system is his

- the rift with Shiloh and Nathan was organized by Rotti, and I feel like Ambers problem with Mag is somehow his fault too

- as far as I know, Mags blindness is never canonically explained, Rotti could easily be responsible like he was with Marni

- Rotti feeds off the obvious, control over everyone. He also is disappointed his kids found ways around his authority, and yet they’re STILL in his web (addicts and also fucked in the head bc of the circumstances he raised them in)

Mag is. The eye

- yeah. This one is the most direct

- I have a headcanon that she can see through cameras (how she found Shiloh) and how she seems to know all about what is happening in Shilohs life

- mag is both a victim and an avatar of the eye, she sees everything going on around her with the people she loves, but all eyes are always on her, trapping her where she is.

- literally had to do a Melanie king except she didn’t escape, the web and the eye often work in opposition in TMA while also being quite similar, she and Rotti much the same.

- “take these eyes I’d rather be blind” is an inadvertent argument with Rottis control of the web, he kills her for it

Lastly, Marni is either End or Desolation

- she’s not actually present in the film

- End is bc she died and yet is still so so important to the plot

-desolation is bc her actions are kind of why everyone in the story has issues

I could make a whole separate post on Rottis fucked up crack zydrate addicted kids