#be merciful as your Father in Heaven is merciful. you gotta stretch

[francesderwent]

the objectivity of truth does not give you license to be cold and unfeeling

[berrykook]

bloom (demon!y!hs) (nsfw)

do not read if you are not into yandere fic! hs is a demon jackass pls save urself!

in which hoseok finds you in his garden and his love begins to bloom

contents: demon!yandere!hoseok, kidnapping, manipulation, oral (f receiving), sex!!! i gotta spoil it they fuck! and hoseok kinda says some...sub stuff idk :/

word count: 5.2k

a/n: thanks for the requests ! <3 i got off track from building this universe and i ended up sorta negating the law that demons and angels can’t interact buttttttt reader still kinda has a moral dilemma ? >.<

IMPORTANT before they start fuckin, reader has a moment of confusion and suspects that hoseok has intentionally magically warped her mind into consenting but that’s not the case reader is just dumb! thank u also i don’t know much about flowers or hell so i’m sorry if any info is incorrect :( lmk and i will fix immediately (and let’s pretend hoseok’s dog is a girl bc i didn’t know that until googling it for this fic)

and mb that this is coming a month after i said it would :( school is beating my ass hard anyways pls enjoy

*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

Hoseok once had a mother a mere three-thousand or so years ago and she named him well. His name fell off her tongue in a major key and rang across acres and through caverns. She never failed to say his name in gargantuan font to be heard across nations; the syllables “Ho-seok” had chimed through shadowy deserts of Hell, Heaven, and Earth for as long as he lived. Hoseok was always big and known - a beacon of diabolic energy; it was his birthright.

His mother was long gone, but remained in a photograph which he always kept on his person (demon?). It was supposed that even immortals had to walk forward into new lives after some time. His father had been around for around one hundred years after, and his sister had moved on when he was barely a thousand. The only companion of Hoseok’s, the only one left, was a shih tzu who followed him even when he treated her with indifference. Hoseok had great power and an abundance of Earth men who sold him their souls, but the loneliness which plagued him was indescribable.

“News for you, my Lord. Taehyung has declared he is but one sure meeting from stealing the Park soul for work to complete in the Circle of Fraud. He has said to be back in less than a fortnight.”

The assistant, doe-eyed and snake-tongued, stared at the wall behind Hoseok as he recited the news from one of hell’s most talented demons, who was currently on a sabbatical to inspect the soul of an Earth man with an itch to be with a woman he saw on the train a year prior. Taehyung had come bustling into Hoseok’s quarters one day, spewing gibberish about the perfect human to become his next target. Hoseok’s chest twinged a bit when Taehyung explained that this Park Jimin schmoe had been stalking this woman for months and was willing to practically sell his soul to be with her (enter Taehyung). “How wonderful,” he said wistfully, yearning for a perfect confidante like this Jimin character had found. At Hoseok’s glassy expression, Taehyung had to withhold a shiver.

Hoseok took a long moment to respond. He stared at his assistant, wondering if he, too, yearned for such a dream, or if perhaps he had even already found his match made in hell. The assistant’s nose twitched like a rabbit.

“Thank you, Jungkook. You may go,” Hoseok said apathetically. He robotically spun on his heels and exited Hoseok’s office with heavy footsteps. Hoseok stretched in his chair, debating if he should charm the assistant’s feet to grow dead and swollen and moldy to teach him not to walk so damn loud all the time.

The shih tzu yapped happily around Hoseok’s feet as he slowly rose from his desk to stare out the window to his left, which displayed miles and miles of lush greenery and delicate flowers of all colors. He conjured the garden around when his sister passed on. She, too, had an infatuation for infatuation and longed for a faraway place to water a romance. Once, they peeked into their father’s seeing portal as children and stumbled upon two lovers in a field of flowers.

(Hoseok did not possess his own soul, but if he did, it would be prickly and tar-like and scary. He was on the cusp of royalty in the underworld. He was evil.)

Still, Hoseok clutched the memory of those lovers in the flowers with tight fists. How magnificent it was to just be in the shadows of lovers. Oh, how the feeling crawled over him like a crowd of tarantulas. He was evil, and was sure he would never experience such a joy. At least he had his garden.

Hoseok felt your presence before his foot even touched the grass that day. He froze in the doorway for a moment, closing his eyes to sense where the intruder was. Within seconds, he discovered your exact location within the field that went on forever. He let out a breath as his feet hit the ground, now teleported a thousand miles from his home. He opened his eyes and choked for a second. His senses were going haywire - the grass was a million shades greener and the flowers seemed to bloom bigger before him. It was beautiful.

As soon as you became completely engulfed in the sickly red hot aura, you went ramrod straight and dropped the bundle of flowers in your hands. It filled every one of your pores and poured down your intestines like lava. You did not even get the chance to gasp - after the instant it came, it burned too much to inhale or exhale. You stared forward straight into the field, wondering how this spirit did not wilt all of the garden. You didn’t dare look in the direction it was coming from.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok spoke finally after a long moment of thick silence. The typical malice in his tone had completely vanished. He was sure now - he loved you. “Angel...are you lost?” He thought about kneeling to get on your level, but hesitated, awkward in his actions. What was he supposed to do with his hands?

Slowly, you trailed your eyes over to where those awful vibrations were originating from. Your stomach twisted when you saw him simply standing five meters away. You became filled with an indescribable dread. A demon, horns and all, staring at you and speaking with tenderness. You began to blubber immediately.

“I’m so, so sorry, I-I was just looking for a f-f-flower I heard you had, oh, dear God, I’m so sorry!” You were inconsolable, dropping your head towards your knees in surrender. Just feeling him that great distance away put you in shambles. You were young and naïve, but you knew what happened to Heaven’s Souls that were caught sneaking in the Circles. Your cries only worsened when his aura became stronger and more painful with every footstep. You suddenly felt an overwhelming warmth on your back and your cries immediately halted like magic.

“Don’t cry anymore.” His voice seemed to boom even when he was trying his hardest to keep it soft. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Speak freely...tell me how you arrived here.” His hand trailed up your back to rest on your neck. He wanted nothing more than for you to relax against him.

“I-I was...searching for a flower. I had heard about a secret garden in the Fraudulent Circle...one with every flower to have existed. I-I’m so sorry. Please, have mercy!” You began sobbing again into your hands, holding them close to your face when you felt his gentle touch around your wrists. “I only died just last year…I don’t want to vanish, please!”

Your wails struck a tune in Hoseok’s ribcage like a kalimba. He grabbed your fearful face in his hands and wiped your tears with his thumb. You held your breath in shock at how gentle he was.

“Not a single soul has trespassed my garden and escaped vanishing.” Your bottom lip wobbled at that, and he ran a thumb along it to still it. “But you...sweet angel...I couldn’t dare do that to you.”

Your mind raced, knowing how clever demons could be and especially such a powerful one like him. He was devastatingly handsome - if you were still on Earth, you would have melted right into his hands.

His smile is twisted. “Lover...do you know who I am?” He stared down at you in admiration, rising a bit on his knees to hover over your face.

Slowly and fearfully, you shook your head. He pressed a ghost of a kiss on your lips as he turned to your ear and whispered softly, “Ho-seok.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood straighter and your whole body erupted with goosebumps. You stared at him with wide eyes.

Hoseok. A name you knew of well, even when you were human. Hearing him whisper that name into your ear like that made your knees shake a second more rapidly. It felt as though the blue skies above had darkened into a hellish black hole. He chuckled at your terrified expression, smoothing your hair back with a burly hand.

“Are you scared?” He couldn’t help himself from asking. Your glassy eyes made him both sad and also weak-kneed. He decided in that moment that he especially loved to tease you.

You nodded again and Hoseok cooed, playfully squishing your cheeks a bit.

“You’re such a young one, aren’t you? Just a baby,” he mumbled, running his hands along your cheekbones, through your hair, across your forehead. Chills continuously crawled up your spine as he fawned over you like some sort of doll. You understood where you were going before you began your trip, but you truly felt it now - this was Hell.

“There is no reason to fear me. I couldn’t hold any malice toward a soul so beautiful...even better that you are an angel. I can easily arrange a place for you in my fortress if you so please.” Something in his tone warned you that it didn’t matter what you pleased. You gave a small nod, letting him take your hand in his. He held it to his face, inhaling deeply and pressing wet kisses along your forearm. “Really? You don’t mind sharing a space with a big, bad demon like me?” He chuckled darkly against your palm and you bit your lip nervously.

“No,” you murmured quietly. He was tricking you. You could feel it in your bones.

He smiled widely, also seeing completely through you. He knew then that he would need to put in some work to turn you over. He placed a hand on your back once more and leaned to bring his forehead to yours, and in less than a second, you had found yourself teleported to a cozy study with velvet carpets. Your stomach turned with anxiety at the thought of your friends and family not knowing where you had disappeared off to - you weren’t even sure if you were still in a Circle of Hell or some other evil place. Hoseok stood up slowly and brought you by the hand to behind his desk, perching you on his lap. 

“Tell me, angel, where are you from?” He conjured a brush out of thin air and ran it through your hair like he would a doll. You clenched your fists in an attempt to get your voice under control.

“I was told that I was the last of my family to die. They’re all up in Heaven, waiting for me.” Hoseok began to brush your hair slower. “B-But, it’s...fine, I guess,” you added quickly. The last thing you wanted was for Hoseok to grow suspicious of you. “I just...wanted to find a type of camellia. I love flowers,” you whispered. The feeling of his breath on your neck made you embarrassed. He laughed.

“Camellia? You should have just said so,” he beamed. Suddenly, his arm wrapped around your front to reveal the red blossom you had pain-stakingly sifted through the fields for. A soft gasp escaped you as Hoseok placed the flower in your hands, then wrapping his hands around your wrists. He seemed to like having that hold on you.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s just how I pictured it,” you whispered in awe. You turned in his lap to face him, doing your best to ham up the performance to give yourself the best chance of survival. “Thank you, Hoseok.” You hoped that his doe-eyed expression so close to your face would not make your own expression drain of color.

“You’re welcome, darling...I can call you that, can’t I?” He leaned in closer to your face and you squeezed the stem in your hand to force yourself not to move back.

“O-oh...I suppose so, sure…” you said coyly. Hoseok’s smile grew wider and he slowly leaned in more, further and further, until his lips were pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your hope for escaping was decreasing exponentially as he continued to fawn over you and kiss your face. 

“Darling, tell me more,” he mumbled against you. “Talk to me about this afterlife in Heaven of yours. I want to know everything.”

You were sure that he was able to find out anything he wanted with just a lick of his magic, but you indulged him anyway. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s heaven, isn’t it? It’s...wonderful, actually. I missed my family for so long on Earth that it’s an indescribable feeling of being reunited once again.”

You did not lie - Hoseok would likely pick up on that before you could even pull the words from your throat, so you did your best to make your reality sound like something you held onto dearly. In truth, it was Heaven - nothing more, nothing less. Your entire family, along with every Godly person you had ever known was there to keep you company as you filled your days with...whatever it was you wanted to do. Heaven held your wildest dreams. 

Going spelunking to the Eighth Circle of Hell was the most interesting thing you had done since you died, but you knew that staying was out of the question, right? 

The needle of your moral compass twitched slightly.

“I...I miss them,” you mumbled sadly, playing with your fingers like a child. Hoseok remained silent and your heart picked up a beat as you couldn’t yet tell if he was seeing through you. He turned his head away from you, biting his lip.

“I see, angel...you would like to go home, wouldn’t you?” He looked to you again, reaching to cradle your face. You felt a profound force pulling you to lean in closer. Something about him felt right, and you were beginning to feel disgusted with yourself for it. His thumbs stroked underneath your eyes as he looked at you sadly. Your heart stirred unwillingly.

“I suppose I should...shouldn’t I?” You had to refrain from smacking yourself as the words tumbled out of your mouth like an avalanche. Ever since you were a young human girl, you had been warned of a demon named Hoseok and his tricks. You slept with a night-light for several years from the gruesome stories of him that lingered around your shoulders for long nights. You feared him, but a prickling feeling in your sternum somehow drew you closer. He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Sweet angels like you belong in Heaven. You have your afterlife and I have mine,” he sighed wistfully. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. 

There was no explanation for this unsolicited adoration blossoming in your chest. You were never one to fall in love easily, but it felt like the walls were going to close in on you if you didn’t give in. Yes, you were fully suspicious now that Hoseok had done something to your mind to make it melt in such a way, but it felt so good that you didn’t attempt to fight it. Hoseok grinned widely, itching to use his magic but ultimately restraining himself.

You were correct from that first moment he appeared behind you - you were completely and utterly hopeless.

“Besides, who would want to stay with such an ugly, evil demon like Hoseok?” He scoffed, looking away from you pitifully. You gasped and dropped the flower so you could tenderly hold his face in your hands.

“Don’t say that!” He grinned sheepishly under your gaze. “I just...I was just saying...um,” you stumbled over your words, trying to remember why exactly you had to leave him here. Your family was waiting for you in Heaven, but they suddenly seemed so miniscule compared to Hoseok. You were torn between completely rejecting him and his demonic nature, and attempting to understand that nature and understand the soul he is. His aura had changed totally since you first felt it - you now could only feel the love he had for you. It was absurd.

“You don’t remember, baby?” Hoseok laughs and your blush deepens. “I thought you were so eager to get back home...can’t you make up your mind?” Hoseok continued to tease you, which made you feel as if you were up in flames. Your mind raced, unsure of what was happening. Hoseok was now kissing the pads of your fingers. He moved so slowly, but you felt as if time was advancing more quickly by the minute.

“My head is...foggy. I don’t know what I want,” you mumbled, grabbing his hand to place on the back of your neck. He smiles widely.

“I think you know exactly what you want.” Hoseok took one of your hands to place on his chest. You immediately started rubbing it, up and down in slow strokes. “Such a good little angel...you always have been, haven’t you? Married a good man, lived honestly as a florist...you’ve been so good…” Hoseok held your face by your chin and slipped a thumb into your mouth to run along your lower set of teeth. “Why don’t you let yourself run free for a night? Be a little bad?”

He slipped his thumb further into your mouth and you leaned forward so it would reach toward the back of your throat. Hoseok moaned at the feeling, smirking evilly. “Darling...don’t you want this?”

You closed your eyes and hollowed your cheeks, letting the pad of your tongue be pet by his thumb. He released it from your mouth with a wet pop.

The burning in your sternum spread like wildfire through you, and you knew then that you had to let yourself smolder. You had already thrown caution to the wind when you decided going to a flower field in Hell was more fun than being around the people you had already spent a mortal eternity with. Something about his aura had your head reeling and your core dripping.

Fuck it. You were already caught in Hell.

“Yes, Hoseok. I want this.”

Hoseok leaned in to place a tender kiss under your jawline and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself teleported into a King-sized bed with a thick red velvet comforter. Hoseok hovered over you, still suckling on your neck. Like a virgin, you fiddled with your hands for a moment before hesitantly placing them on his shoulders.

Hoseok chuckled lowly, pulling away to look at you and push your hair behind your ears. “You’re nervous. Don’t worry,” he murmured. He placed a kiss below your right ear and sent a quaking shiver through your spine. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Hoseok grabbed both of your hands by the wrist and held them slightly above your head against the fluffed pillows. Whatever sex dungeon he had teleported you to was perfect - the cool feeling of the velvet against your skin and the aroma of Hoseok’s devilish aura made your knees shake. Hoseok noticed this and ran his hands up and down your thighs slowly, lovingly. “You’re shivering,” he laughed. You turned your flushed face away from him. He continued to laugh at you softly before turning your face back towards him with his pointer finger. “I already told you once. If you wish to leave after this, I’ll send you back to your place in Heaven without hesitation...there’s no reason to be scared because I will do anything you ask.” He kisses you deeply on the lips. “That is how I feel for you, just after this short time together.”

His attention on you felt thick like molasses. He made you feel as though you were the center of the universe. This was wrong, and you felt it deep within you. Knowing this, you reached up to capture his lips once again and palm his cock through the dark silk of his pants.

Hoseok moaned happily and continued to kiss you again and again for what felt like forever. His tongue lapped over every crevice of your mouth at a painful pace before finally moving his hand to slowly thumb your clit. His movements were agonizingly slow - you assumed he wanted to preserve this moment before he sent you on your way home.

You let out a deep sigh into his mouth as he slowly, but harshly, stroked your clit and fingered the opening of your pussy and just a touch from your ass. He smiled over you as he watched and took in every facial expression and inhaled each breath of yours.

“Does it feel good? Please, please, tell me,” he moaned. You stared up at him in disbelief - he seemed on the edge of orgasming just from seeing you in pleasure. You had barely done anything but stroke his cock through his pants. “I need to hear you tell me it’s good.”

You smiled smally, reaching up to grab at his chin. “Yes, yes. You’re doing so good, Hoseok.” You fought back a giggle as he practically rolled his eyes back into his head at your minimal praise.

“Angel...please, let me eat you out...I promise I’ll do good, please just give me the chance…” He began rutting his hips against one of your thighs and you laughed out loud. At the sound of your laughter, he whined pitifully. 

“Are you sure you’re from Hell?” You laughed as he buried his face into your stomach, embarrassed. “Just get started so you can fuck me already.”

Things quickly took a turn for the stranger as Hoseok buried his face into your pussy and made completely lewd sounds of pleasure from this. He seemed to be enjoying this more than you and it made you feel both embarrassed and hot. The feeling of control made your lips tilt up in a sick smile as his grip on your thighs tightened with each moment.

“Y-You’re doing so well,” you mumbled after several minutes of Hoseok eating you out while trying not to cum in his pants. “S-so, fuck, good.” It was an odd game that Hoseok was playing, but you followed along gleefully. At your praise, he moaned loudly into your pussy and sent a shiver of pleasure up your spine. “C-come here,” you instructed, reaching to pull his head up towards yours. He let out a pant as he dragged himself up towards you, knuckles holding himself on the bed shakily. “Will you fuck me?”

Hoseok bowed his head to place a kiss on your sternum. “Anything for you,” he whispered, almost hissing like a snake. He guided your hand to stroke his cock for a bit, all while he loudly expressed and moaned for you. Heat continued to rise in your cheeks - Hoseok was scandalous.

“S-sweetheart, fuck, we have to start before I come all over your thighs.” You both laughed and he gripped your neck possessively, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

The pressure of just the first stroke had you rolling your head against the satin pillows. Hoseok seemed to be handling it in a worse way, as it looked as though he could already be finished in just a quick moment. You gripped his neck and pulled him closer before whispering to him, “How do I make you feel?”

Hoseok growled for a moment, before whimpering and burying his face into your neck. “Y-you’re a princess...fuck, fuck, I fucking can’t...a queen,” he moaned.

You threw your head back again as he picked up the speed of a jackhammer. He dove into you so deeply with such vigor and passion that you had no doubts he wasn’t mortal. Nobody but him could drill into you like this.

Hoseok reached down to get a grip on one of your thighs to perch on his shoulder. You moaned unashamedly and it made his pace jolt for a moment.

He continued fucking you relentlessly, occassionally turning his head to nip at your thigh. You turned your head to bring your gaze to the mirror in the corner of the room, proudly displaying Hoseok’s muscled back and his cock slipping in and out of you. You let out a breathy laugh and Hoseok began fucking you with everything in him.

“You like seeing yourself getting fucked? You look radiant,” he growled, pounding into you so hard you were bumped by the headboard. At a loss for words, you nodded, once again reaching up to hold his neck tenderly. He smirked down at you. “Ready?”

You let out another laugh, nodding eagerly. He smiled softly, too softly for a demon, and placed on hand on your pussy and one on your breast, all while keeping his inhuman pace fucking you. Just the touch of his hand on your clit had you in tears, but his skill in rubbing it tenderly had you screaming out. At the first sight of your tears, Hoseok came inside you almost immediately. The sounds filling the room were lewd, and the feeling of his cum filling your pussy and getting all over your thighs and ass held the same sentiment. Ever so slowly, he stopped pumping and delicately brought your leg to rest on the stained velvet. He kissed your lips slowly and lovingly for several minutes before wrapping you in his arms and just holding you close.

“You are perfect,” he spoke softly after the long silence. You drowsily looked up at him for a second before looking away shyly. “Tell me what makes you happy, and I will give it to you.” Another slow kiss to your lips. “Anything you’d like.”

You kissed back with hesitance, now eager to make your way back home after being held and kissed by him for nearly an hour of cuddling.

“I’m happy with the camellia.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jawline before rising slowly, looking around the room for a door.

Hoseok chuckled darkly, rising as well and holding your waist to bring you onto his lap. You protested, flushing deeply when he still planted your bare pussy onto his legs and let his remaining cum from inside you flow out back onto him.

“That’s not what I meant, darling.” He brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear and admired you closely. You looked away, twiddling your thumbs. “What is it that you would like in our living quarters? Would you like the flower shop from your mortal life, or perhaps the home you raised your children in? I could conjure another garden at the drop of a hat, sweetheart...anything you would like.”

His stare on you intensified as he spoke. Your heart rate picked up once he said “living quarters,” and you begged it to slow so he wouldn’t notice.

“O-oh,” you stuttered after a long moment. He kept running his fingers through your hair and it sent chills down your naked spine. “I’ve got everything I need at home...don’t you think it’s time I get going?”

You looked at him coyly, hoping he would keep his promise of sending you home afterwards. He laughed breathily and kept a large hand cradling the back of your head.

“You didn’t think I would actually let you go, baby?” Hoseok laughed out loud, throwing his head back. He pressed an urgent kiss to your lips. You did not return it. “You’re mine, even if you didn’t have my cum dripping down your legs. You were mine the second you set foot in my garden.”

You looked to him carefully and let out a nervous chuckle. The temperature in the room began to rise, though you stayed still on his lap. Hoseok’s smile deepened.

“I have to go home,” you whispered after another long silence. At this point, you were dripping sweat while Hoseok remained unbothered. “You said you would take me home.”

Somewhere inside of you had clearly known all along that making a deal with Hoseok had no way of ending well. You knew he would torture you and eat your heart for breakfast because Hoseok was a demon and that’s what demons did, and especially ones of his calibre - yet, you stayed. You knew he would end you, and you stayed.

“Darling...you’re so sweet.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, “and stupid.”

In the blink of an eye, Hoseok had transported you to the desk chair in his office. He had dressed himself in a fine suit and yourself in a ruffled dress so white it hurt your eyes. You noticed now that his office was also decorated in that heavy red velvet. It made your stomach churn.

“If you really would like to go home, the door to my garden is here. I told you already.” He rested his hand on the doorknob and looked to you with heavy eyes. “I love you.”

You held back a scoff, knowing that he wasn’t asking, but demanding you to go past the door. For some reason, his last confession of love was more bone-chilling than the others. He opened the door for you and towered over you as you cautiously took the first step onto the soft bed of grass below.

A feeling not unlike what you felt when you first encountered Hoseok’s aura ran up your leg and struck your entire body. Immediately, you rebounded back into Hoseok’s office and dropped to your knees as the burning made you feel as though your flesh was dripping off the bone. You cried out as you repeatedly ran your hands up and down your arms and legs, reassuring yourself that they were still there. Hoseok let out a booming laugh.

He bent to sit cross-legged on the floor with you.

“It’s not real, baby. You’re just imagining it. See?” Hoseok grabbed your wrists gently and placed your hands on his face. “Look at me. You’re safe,” he chuckled. You still had to take a moment to catch your breath.

“I have to go home,” you sighed, exasperated. Hoseok smiled again, grabbing hold of your wrist again to caress it tenderly.

“Listen carefully, darling.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forearm. “I don’t want to have to say this again. You’re mine. I own you.” He intertwined your fingers. “I could rip your heart out in a second. I could feed you to my dog. Feed you to the assistant.” He ran a hand through your hair and lovingly held your trembling chin. 

“I could make you vanish with the snap of my fingers...now, or later if you want to act up.” You looked down in shame and he immediately grabbed your face again to bring it to his. “Take one step outside that door and I’ll have you up in flames. I could have your head on a fucking stick, baby.” Suddenly, he cooed, wiping a tear from your eye. “You are home. You were meant to get caught in my field. I was meant to meet you, and love you. I love you. Sweetheart?”

His hand that was holding yours suddenly contracted, squeezing your bones with a sick snap and pop. Through your cries, you sobbed out, “I love you too.”

He smiled sickeningly, planting another kiss on your forehead. “Remind me your favorite flowers. We can keep them in the bedroom.”

[scgdoeswhat]

Sukiyaki - Colt Kaneko x MC

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x Renza Rico

Summary: A freak accident changes everything forever.

Rating: PG

Warning: Major character death

Words: 1463

Author’s Notes: I was driving in K-Town, about 10 minutes west of Downtown LA, and the street I was going to take was blocked. When I turned onto Wilshire, I saw a crowd on the corner because a minivan had just struck a motorcycle. I don’t know what happened to the motorcyclist, but I hope that the paramedics were able to get to him in time. 

The title comes from the song “Sukiyaki,” specifically the 4PM cover version. I heard it the night before and I think the lyrics really encapsulate a lot of what’s going on in this fic. Colt doesn’t belong to me, but the story does. No Beta used.

Sorry if the “Read More” link isn’t working. It’s Tumblr’s fault, not mine!

Tag List: @lady-dianelewis @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @duchess-ash-flame @client-327 @desiree-0816 @sinclaire-made-me-sin @lizeboredom @donutsgirl36

"Ha! Take that, Poli Sci!"

Pressing 'save' on her 25-page term paper with a triumphant smile, Renza straightened up in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. The paper marked the last final of her first semester at Langston University and pressing that save button was one of her sweetest victories of the last six months. She looked at the time, not realizing it was already five in the afternoon. Taking out her planner, she crossed out another day until her flight back to LA for the winter break.

Two more days until she went back home.

Two more days until she saw Colt.

Taking her burner phone out, she looked at the latest text exchange with Colt. He had replied to her yesterday morning in response to some stupid meme she had sent him.

"You're a dork lol"

"I know, but you love me for it 😝"

"Lol I do love you for it."

"Love you too 😘"

They normally FaceTimed in the evening, except for the random times Colt had business to attend to. He made the decision early on in their relationship to stop telling her about anything he was involved with, citing the fact that she had become mixed up in so much shit already because of him and his family. It wasn't like him to not respond for more than a day and so she shot off a quick text.

"Finished my last paper! Woohoo! Can't wait to see you when I get back home!"

Putting the extra phone away, she picked up her regular, pink cased iPhone, looking through her Pictagram account. Mindlessly, she scrolled through her feed, breaking out of her reverie once she saw her father calling.

"Hey Dad! What's up?!" She chirped happily, ready to tell him about her being done with her semester.

"Hi, Renza," her father cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before continuing on. "I have something to tell you.”

"What is it? Is everything okay?”

“Are you sitting down?"

“Okay, you’re starting to freak me out here,” she frowned. “What's wrong?"

"I... I just found out about an hour ago. I was debating whether to even tell you this, but Kaneko's son, he was involved in a crash last night on Wilshire. A minivan didn't see him on his motorcycle and ... he died on impact. I know you were friends with him and I thought you'd want to know."

Renza dropped the phone, her grip going slack. Her body went completely numb, the words her father said to her barely registering.

"Renza? Renza, honey? Are you okay?"

After a few seconds, she bent over, picking the phone up, looking at the device as if it had deceived her somehow. "I've gotta go, Dad."

"Renza, I'm so-"

With a click, she hung up the phone, frozen in shock. Everything over the last few minutes felt like an out of body experience. Her heart lurched, threatening to swallow itself in her chest as she collapsed into a fetal position on the floor of her room. Never did she realize the pain of her heart shattering would be a thousand times worse than what she could ever imagine.

Hours slipped by before she was knocked out of her trance by obnoxious, drunk laughter outside her dorm room door. Her eyes were red and her cheeks wet with silent tears, her brain still unable to process the news. Unlocking her phone, she looked at the picture in the background. It was a snap of the two of them from prom, right before everything went to hell. They never managed to take another photo together after that moment.

Wiping her face, she cast a glance at her already packed suitcase, taking a series of calming, deep breaths before she could feel herself start to hyperventilate. She counted to ten, her mind clearing with what she needed to do.

The first step? Changing her flight to get back to LA as soon as she could.

Christmas Eve.

This was not the way she had envisioned spending what used to be one of her favorite holidays.

Renza should have been cuddling with Colt by a fire, sipping on hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows … or on the back of his bike, coasting down PCH, the roads devoid of people.

Instead, here she sat, in a pew of the Forest Lawn mortuary located on the other side of the Hollywood Hills. She looked around the room and saw a beautiful Japanese woman in the front, the only one who had eyes redder than hers. The rest of the mourners were a mixture of his family and friends, all from the side of his life she knew nothing about. There were a few girls in attendance who barely hid their sneer at her, not bothering to hide their disdain at the girl who was so out of place. No doubt she stood out like a sore thumb; her simple, black pencil skirt and blazer combo plain compared to the Robertson Boulevard LBDs these USC sorority type girls were wearing.

Never in her life had she felt so alone.

Not when her mother died.

Not when she left her father.

In that moment, the stark realization that Colt was no longer alive hit her head on. No one in the room paid any attention to the girl in the back as her world crumbled all around her. No one except the beautiful, Japanese woman who sat in the front, all by herself.

Three hours had passed, the crowd thinning out as it neared closing time. Renza had nothing left to give, her insides raw with the overpowering emotion that had taken over. She couldn’t trust her body to walk the thirty feet to his coffin during the entire time she had been there with other people around, but now that it was empty, she willed herself to take those steps, to pay her last respects to the love of her life.

Taking a shaky breath, she stepped up to the open casket, looking in at his face. His handsome face. The closed lids hiding the eyes she would never be able to get lost in. The mouth that would never again give her a crooked smile. The lips she would never get to feel against hers.

Everything crashed over her once more, her tears streaming down her face as she broke down in solitude. She cried for all his pain, all his hopes and dreams, their future, and quite simply, him. Their relationship in an instance had been reduced to nothing more than untouchable memories that would stay with her the rest of her life.

“Excuse me, miss, I’m sorry, but we have to close.” A worker approached her gently, handing her tissues with his message, before leaving her with a final moment.

“Of course, sorry,” Renza mumbled. She looked down once more, steeling herself for the last time. “I’ll never forget what we had. Like you said, you’re a part of me forever.” Her lip trembled as she fought a fresh onslaught of tears. “I’m always going to love you. Goodbye, Colt.”

As she neared the building’s entrance, the beautiful woman from earlier approached her, the epitome of grace in such a trying time.

“You must be Renza,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse, not unlike her own.

Unable to find her voice, Renza nodded, biting the inside of her lip.

“My son did not tell me much about his life, especially when he went back to work for Teppei,” she paused, the hurt unmistakable in her tone. “But he did mention you. You were very special to him.”

“He was very special to me, too,” Renza managed to get out.

His mother pressed a piece of paper into her hand, lightly grasping her fingers briefly before letting go. “Please come to his funeral, if your schedule allows it. I know he would have wanted you there.”

Before she could say anything else, his mother turned around and walked away, getting into the backseat of a black Cadillac Escalade.

Renza exited the double doors, her eyes trained on the heavens. A shooting star crossed the night sky, a vision almost impossible to believe in the LA smog. A sad smile graced her face, knowing intrinsically that star was meant for her, from him.

Sighing heavily, she pulled her phone out to order a Dryve, her gaze settling back to earth. She blinked repeatedly at the sight that greeted her, not sure if her eyes were playing tricks. In the parking lot, there stood Mona, Ximena, Toby, and even Logan; the remaining members of the Mercy Park Crew.

Even in death, Colt was right. MPC was always going to be a part of her.

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

DESPERATE PRAYERS

This is for @caplansteverogers writing disney challenge! <3 I am SO EXCITED!

A/N: I got inspired!  My prompt was the song “GOD help the outcasts” From Hunchback of Notre Dame

Preserum!Steve x plussize!reader

Word count: 1316

Summary: With the recent death of his mother, Steve feels so alone.  He desperately prays for someone to understand and love him like his mother did.

Warnings: this whole thing deals with Christianity and Catholicism, if you have a problem with that this is no the fic for you.  Death, sadness, description of chronic and mental illness, suicidal thoughts and depression, fucked up society.  Again, it’s dark, guys.

(GIFs not mine)

The sound of the alarm clock went off, nearly giving Steve a heart attack.  Almost in a literal sense.  Steve groaned, trying to get up, but fuck his back hurt so badly!  Steve loved sleeping.  It was the closest to death he could get.  But once he woke up, he hated it.  His back would ache, making it hard to breathe, sometimes it would get so bad, the first thing he would do in the morning, was try and stop his asthma attack.  For once, he was lucky and didn’t have to struggle to stay alive that morning.

“c’mon , punk, we both gotta get up,” Bucky yawned, chucking a pillow at Steve’s face

“If you care to remember, Buck, I don’t have a job,” he huffed, trying his best to stretch

“Yeah, but it’s Sunday, I’ve got errands to run and you’ve got 8am Mass,” Buck reminded, grabbing his towel to go shower, “and I found your Rosary!  You left it on the porch,”

A wave of relief washed over Steve as he heard that.  He had a panic attack the other day when he couldn’t find it, nearly landed him in the hospital… again.  His mother had given that to him for his 18th birthday a couple months ago.  She had it specially made for him.  It was the most precious and prized possession he had… the only he had left of his mother other than a few pictures.

Sarah also gave Steve her wedding ring, in hopes that he could give it to the love of his life.  He scoffed at the idea of someone loving him enough to marry him.

Steve walked down the street, pulling his hat down father over his ears and his scarf over his nose.  Why did New York have to be so fucking cold?!

He did his best to ignore all the hateful posters hung around the streets.  For the most part, he was able to ignore the stupid sterilization and euthanasia posters, but there was one, hung in the window of the building right across his church.

Some people were born to be a burden to others

That one always hurt him.  Maybe it wasn’t something he could fix, or work himself out of… maybe he truly was just a burden.

He was always causing his mother stress; she worked all day then had to take care of him all night.  And there was Buck… Bucky was always getting him out of trouble, making him work all day, taking up his time, resources… Buck can’t even go out a full night with him there.

Steve knelt at the altar, clutching his Rosary in his fists, his knuckles turning white.  He recited the prayers he had so diligently emerized, tears running down his face.  Very rarely had he ever prayed so hard.  He had only ever done this when he first found out about why his father was no longer with him, when he met Bucky, and when his mother had died...

“Lead all s-souls.. I-into… into hea-heaven… especial-ly tho-ose who nee-ed thy m-mercy..” Steve quivered, one word away from breaking down.  Holding back his heaving tears was irritating his lungs and the bad feeling in his heart made his chest hurt.  Keeling made his back hurt and his nerves were getting to him as his hands shook.

With a loud cry of hurt, he fell to his face in reverence.  “Please, I know you’re up there and I hope you’ll listen to someone like me…” Steve cried, his face turning red as he started hiccuping and wheezing.  “I’ve been told my whole life I was worthless, that I should kill myself… Ever since I was barely in kindergarten I was told that.  My mother was told to get rid of me, to abandon me and live her life… But she never did.

“She was the only one who loved me and she told me you loved me too… so I’m begging you, please… please please please… I just need someone like her in my life again… someone who will love and understand me…”.

Steve was sobbing and crying to hard he had given himself an asthma attack.  He was gasping and gagging, but nothing was entering his lungs.  He panicked, dropping his Rosary to frantically search through his pockets for one of his special cigarettes.  He found one, but- “SHIT!” he gasped, finding that he had left his lighter back at the apartment.

After a minute, he began to feel faint, lying down on the floor as he accepted his doom.  His already horrible vision went dark as he felt himself slipping.  He reached over, he was going to die, he was going to die holding the memory of his mother.  He couldn’t even feel his fingers (not that he could in any other circumstance), let alone the beads.

“C’mon, c’mon…” a soft, muffled voice called, sitting him up and placing the cigarette by his lips.  Was this an angel?  Was he gonna wake up dead?

The soft glow of a lighter caught his attention as the cigarette was being lit for him.  He exhaled whatever little air was in his lungs, took the deepest breath he could.  He held it for a few seconds until his vision cleared… sort of.  Then he exhaled through his nose.  

Well… he wasn’t dead… he wasn’t sure if he was thankful or upset about that.

“Are you okay?” the lady who helped him asked.

Well he may not have died, but he was definitely saved by an angel.  She was tall, her figure full, bigger than other girls.  But her smile accentuated by rosy, round cheeks, was much kinder than those other girls’ too.  Her hands were careful and gentle as they touched him, holding his hand gently as he tried to get his breathing right.

He nodded softly, taking another breath from the cigarette.  “You saved my life…” he gasped, his face flushing.  He wasn’t sure if he was turning red because of the pretty girl who was willing to save his life… or the fact that he just went two minutes without oxygen.

“Yeah?” she hummed, “why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I mean… I would figure no one would want to save save a crazy asthmatic,” he sniffed, wiping the tear stains off his cheeks, “it would be one less flaw in the gene pool,”

“Maybe someone would want to save a crazy asthmatic… if they were one too,” she smiled, helping sit up against the wall to support his back.

“Y-you’re… you’re asthmatic too?” he asked, looking up at her

She nodded with a kind smile on her face.  “And even if I wasn’t, I would still save you; you’re a human being with worth,” she said, standing up to get the Rosary he had dropped.

“I’m not worth anything…” he sighed, pulling his knees to his chest, starting to cry again.

“DON’T SAY THAT!” she shouted at him, “you are a living, breathing human being, with a heart and soul… you are priceless,”.

“How can you say that, you don’t even know me,” he countered, looking up at her.  He almost felt angry.  Was thing some cruel joke?  Was she going to make a sick punchline about this?

“I don’t have to know you.  I can love a human for who they are…” she said, sitting back down with him.  “I’m (Y/N), by the way,” she smiled, holding out her hand.

“Steven,” Steve smiled back, wiping away his last tear as he shook her outstretched hands.

“Oof!  You’re hands are cold!” (Y/N) giggled

“Sorry… there always like that,” Steve blushed in embarrassment.

“If you’re hands are this cold, you must be miserable out in the November air,” she hummed, seeing the snow build up on the stained glass windows, “do you want me to walk you home?”

Steve smiled brightly.  “Yeah… yeah, I’d love that,”

TAGLIST:

@paranoid-borderline-insane @buckyshattergirl @bitchy-tacos @httpmcrvel

[ravenvsfox]

remember everyone’s favourite headcanon about neil coming back to life once upon a time and telling his unsuspecting friends about it on movie night?? I wrote that bitch!!!

The light from the TV seizes every time a scene leaps off a building or the action crashes into the protagonist. It’s exhausting to be in the same room as the flicker of it; the pulsing gunfire and longwinded monologues intercut with showy violence that’s all soft in the middle.

The combat is slow — it’s obvious the director wants you to follow the stunt double’s prowess with your eyes, to take the moment that someone goes sprawling and package it, understand it, delight in your own understanding. The urgency of the fight whimpers and dies. It’s a half-time waltz set to galloping music, stilted dialogue fed into it all like splinters.

It’s almost a comedy, this palatable brutality playing out in a room full of fighters.

A woman hooks her leg in the window of a moving car and slides inside, and Neil makes a tsk-ing noise. She grapples with a driver and wins impossibly. The scene shifts and becomes a greyscale basement; the villain orders his cronies about in German that can’t figure itself out. Neil nudges Andrew’s foot with his and Andrew nods without looking.

The screen hiccups, abruptly paused. “What is it Lassie?” Matt jokes, mouth twitching. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Neil says, sour. “Just wondering if his German coach spoke any German.”

“I thought it was cute,” Nicky says.

“You think he’s cute,” Allison corrects, reaching over Renee to steal a twizzler from the knot of opened snacks on the coffee table. She bites into it viciously when she says, “you’re into boys who can’t speak the same language as you. They’re easier to trick.”

“Wow,” Nicky says, bewildered. “The bitch is out today.”

Allison swipes primly at her lipstick. “Always is.”

“You got another horrifying factoid to share with the class, Josten?” Dan asks. “Something about the proper technique for jumping between cars maybe?”

“Yeah. Don’t lead with your legs. That’s a good way to get yourself ripped in half.”

“Un-pause,” Renee prods, and Matt laughs when he hits play. The movie skids around and tries to find its own plot again. Light flickers over Neil’s frown.

The protagonist shoots at a tank until it blows up, and Neil snorts, jostling Andrew’s side when he stands up. He watches Matt and Neil have a conversation in gestures, and Matt relents after a moment, letting Neil slip away without pausing anything.

He’s gone for a while. Doubtless somewhere in their bedroom or breathing secondhand smoke from his own hand or killing time cross-legged in the brightness of the kitchen.

It’s less bearable, trying to swallow the movie without Neil shaking with laughter against him every time someone lies or shoots the wrong way. Andrew feels uncomfortably like the only other person in his lifeboat had just been rescued without him.

Another explosion rocks their sound system, and Andrew flicks bored eyes back to the villain circling the lead in a helicopter. He’s still waiting for the plot twist to get over itself and make an appearance, or for Neil to do the same. It’s starting to chafe, being in the dark with the whole team, shifting and breathing and rustling plastic packages around him.

The protagonist gets suddenly skewered by the debris from the helicopter he just shot down, and the heroine tumbles down over the rubble, scrambling to hold his face in both hands. Dialogue devolves into blood-bubbling I love you’s and come back’s from there, and Andrew concentrates on zoning out.

“He’s not actually dead,” Nicky says incredulously, mouth full of popcorn. Dan shushes him. “He’s too pretty to be impaled to death.”

“I bet you want him to impale you to death,” Matt says slyly, pleased with himself, and Renee frowns at him.

“Ay, he’s back!” Nicky says, popping another handful as the protagonist gasps back to life, face wet with tears or sweat or rain. “What’d I tell you?”

“You’re ruining this movie,” Aaron says flatly.

“Do you think he went to heaven for those five minutes?” Nicky continues, ignoring his cousin. “Like I get that he’s a mass murderer, but it was all ‘greater good’ stuff. Like charity work.”

“I don’t think God had time to decide,” Renee says softly.

“Like he was hanging out in limbo?” Dan asks, playing along. Renee shrugs generously.

“I’d love to die for like ten minutes, make a scene, have Erik weep over my broken body. Then high five God on my way back to life.”

“Nothing happens when you die, Nicky,” Neil says matter-of-factly from the doorway. He smells like Andrew’s cigarettes when he climbs back onto the couch, legs tucked underneath him. He reaches for a handful of popcorn.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Renee says, frowning a little. Her beliefs never show on her face so much as when she’s trying to fight back without fighting.

Andrew can feel his heart wind up and get ready to throw something, though he’s not completely sure why until Neil says, “I died once.” He shrugs. “God looked a whole lot like an endless abyss.”

Renee reaches over and pauses the TV. Matt looks anxiously at Dan, who can’t seem to look away from Neil or close her mouth.

“You’re not serious,” she says lowly. Neil looks up from his handful, startled by the mood shift.

“Wouldn’t be a very good joke, would it,” Allison says, blatantly overcompensating. Her hand is making dents in her plastic cup.

“You died?” Kevin says. “You didn’t think to mention that?”

“I didn’t mention a lot of things,” Neil says narrowly. “Just like you didn’t mention a lot of things. You really want to play that game?”

“Neil,” Matt interrupts. “I know you think this is one of those things you can say and then we hit play and move on, but it’s really not.”

“Who did it?” Andrew’s mouth asks. In his head he’s already flipping backwards through the filing cabinet of stories Neil has pressed into his hands and said into his neck and written down and handed to him because his voice gave out. Everyone looks at Andrew, then Neil.

“My father,” Neil says stiffly. Andrew can see Dan close her eyes and keep them closed.

“When?” Andrew demands. He doesn’t know why these particular questions matter so much, if they matter. The taste of ‘I died once’ is making everything that comes out of his mouth bitter and dull.

“I was nine.” His eyes are on Andrew, fixed and screwed in. His brow is twisted, and Andrew knows that this is a story he hadn’t intended to be sharing until he already was. “I let someone give me a ride home. He insisted, I don’t know. I wasn’t good at saying no yet.”

Andrew blinks. Some part of him wants to heave, and his muscles strain against the impulse.

“You don’t have to tell us,” Renee says. She looks troubled. Almost everything has happened to her at least once, but not this.

“Tell me,” Andrew says, lets the anger curl his mouth into something demanding, knowing it won’t do any good.

Neil’s face flickers, a flame buffeted by wind. “He dropped me home, and when no one came to the door he walked around back. He didn’t see anything but— it was. Close. It was very close. My father was slitting someone’s throat in the basement at the same time that this guy was lurking around our fence.”

“Jesus, Neil,” Nicky says, reaching for Neil’s shoulder. Andrew catches his wrist before he can make contact. Neil shrugs again.

“He heard the knocking, finally, and came upstairs. He let the guy live. I still don’t know why.” He pops one kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “He held me down in the bathtub until I blacked out. Or — died, I guess. Surprisingly merciful killing, for him.” Another kernel, thoughtful. “Business, not pleasure.”

“What happened?” Dan asks thickly. “Your mom…?”

Neil nods. “As soon as he was gone, she dragged me out of the tub and did CPR, I guess. I didn’t have a pulse for— minutes. I don’t know. She said I turned blue.”

“No shit,” Matt says, running a hand through his hair, displacing the spikes so they look as sad as he does.

“He was pissed that she’d done it, though. He beat us both. I remember the bath flowing over, and the water going red—“ he seems to come back to himself, catching Andrew’s eye and frowning at what he finds. “It was ten years ago Drew,” he says quietly.

“I would kill him again.”

Neil’s jaw works, and he flushes, overwhelmed. “I know,” he says finally. “So would I.”

The silence stretches, then breaks uselessly to pieces like wet paper. Everyone stopped pretending they were going to watch the rest of the movie five minutes ago.

“And you…” Nicky swallows. “You didn’t see anything? In those minutes?”

Neil looks at him consideringly. “No. I was gone and then I was back.”

Andrew can see that ‘back’ most clearly, the way Neil’s mouth pops open around the word, trying to let it go. He remembers the way living feels so much more deadly than dying.

Renee’s face is a chess game; she’s trying to strategize her way out of the other team’s looming checkmate. She doesn’t trust Neil’s story, or she doesn’t trust herself, or she trusts both and her religion is tugging her sleeve until she answers it.

“I’m sorry,” someone says.

Neil shrugs, tosses popcorn into his open mouth, looks at the ceiling. “I’m here. There are worse things.”

“Than death?” Kevin says incredulously.

“Yes,” Neil says without hesitation.

“I think,” Matt says hesitatingly, “I think maybe we should go.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Neil says, at the same time that Andrew says, “yes.”

“I didn’t die today. Don’t stop on my account.”

Matt glances around the room, eyes catching on the screen — still paused on the tear-streaked heroine with her arms strung like lace around the hero’s neck. “I think I might need a breather. Your childhood kind of… makes me believe in real evil, so, like. I’ve gotta deal with that.”

“Sort of undermined my belief in God, too,” Nicky pipes up, and Aaron snorts.

“You only ever believe in Him when it suits you, anyway.”

“Yeah well I don’t believe in Him right now,” Nicky snaps, surprisingly fierce. Neil looks surprised at the way he has anything to do with his friends’ beliefs or moods. He still doesn’t quite understand that he influences people with his honesty just as much as he did with lies.

“Matt’s right, I think. We’d better go,” Renee says. Andrew can tell that her religion is unscathed, ultimately. It’s always been more powerful than her fear.

The movie’s shut off, snacks scooped into the bags they were purchased in, and the upperclassmen trudge from their room with their shoulders bowed, apologies bouncing straight off of Neil. Aaron and Nicky follow the crowd, and the dorm trickles down to three again.

Kevin stands awkwardly, looking utterly unlike a professional athlete with his hands folded in front of him and his expression curdled and un-charming. He looks like he wants to say something, but he leaves abruptly for their room instead. He looks profoundly sad for the second before he turns to go.

“Tell me,” Andrew prompts as soon as they’re alone, and Neil sinks down further into the couch.

“Death scares me more than it used to,” he admits. Andrew watches the little rueful set of his mouth, the way he’s holding his own arms to his chest. “I remember my lungs going rubbery and my vision cutting out and I felt— I was more scared that he wouldn’t finish the job. Or that he’d find a way to do it wrong. But if it happened now… I don’t know. I don’t want to leave you.”

Andrew looks at the wall, breathing hard through his nose. He wants to tell Neil that he’s been waiting for him to leave him alone, that death is easy, that nothing— not even the mornings where they wake at precisely the same time and grope their way back to life together— means anything at all. “Then don’t.”

“Andrew,” Neil says. “I don’t want to be the one that derails everyone’s lives because I couldn’t keep my past in the past.”

“Then don’t,” Andrew repeats. “You don’t owe them any truths.”

“I owe them everything,” Neil tells him quietly. “The truth is the least of it.”

“Then get over it.”

“Get over it,” Neil repeats.

“They asked,” Andrew says slowly. “You answered. All they lost was the last ten minutes of a movie with a 34% approval rating and poorly performed German.”

Neil huffs, almost a laugh. He leans in haltingly to kiss Andrew on the mouth, off-centre, barely there. He holds onto his hair when he pulls back, heavy-lidded.

“Neil,” Andrew says against his lips. He traces the slender scar from Neil’s cheekbone to the corner of his mouth. “Were you ever that close again?”

Neil’s brow furrows, close enough that the feeling of it registers on Andrew’s forehead. “To death? No, not— no.”

“Don’t be,” he says as clearly as he can, weakness thinning his mouth.

“Okay,” Neil whispers. “Yeah. Okay.”