#but here is my idea for a more somber ending

[byexbyez]

love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

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And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.  

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.  

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”   

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”  

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.  

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”  

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.  

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.  

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they’re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?��

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.  

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”  

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?” 

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”  

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don��t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

 “If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”  

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”  

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

[pupuyvs]

Autumn Leaves

pairing: daniela avazini x fem!reader

wc: 18k+

req: yes

warnings: angst, fluff, no happy ending, blood, mentions of throwing up, medical stuff, major character death

a/n: here is the long awaited dani angst!! tbh this was actually not the first idea, that idea will come out eventually but i want to do it on my own time. also this heavily inspired by mr. plankton, great kdrama yall should watch!! anyways enjoy and feel free to cuss me out in my comments or inbox :D (also if u see any typos no u didnt.)

The white noise machine whirs loudly as it attempts to drown out the noise in and out of the office. It fails as the ticking of the clock on the wall practically fights against it. You scratch at the seam line of your jeans coinciding each scratch with the tick of the clock. By the fifth tick a pain courses through your brain settling itself at the back of your head. Your fingers pause its picking before making its way to the nape of your neck where it tangles itself into your hair.

Your hand slowly pulls as you try to offset the constant ache with a new sudden one. You’re disrupted by the other door in the office opening, it closing again when the person steps in. The doctor stands behind his desk, pulling his chair out as he sits down, the creak when he sits makes you wince.

He offers you a small smile as he smooths out the manila folder, a nervous tick you presume. “I’m Dr. Harrison. Do you know what brought you here?”

“Umm..” You trail off, exhaling as you try to rack through your memory. You shake your head as you realize you have no memory of the day. “The last I remember I was standing in line to pick up breakfast for me and my friend and then I was in the hospital being told to come here.”

The doctor nods before sighing softly. “You fainted. You were sent here because of your MRI results.”

You nod slowly before lifting an eyebrow slightly, laughing a bit. “MRI? Isn’t that the brain scan thingy? Seems a bit too serious for a simple fainting, I mean don’t you guys usually just give someone crackers and water before sending them on their way?”

“Usually that’s after the scan. It’s standard protocol for a fainting accident after all fainting could be an indication of something more serious.”

Nodding you fidget slightly in your chair. “Well I’m ready for my water and crackers.” The words don’t make the man laugh, instead he offers you a somber frown. He opens up the manila folder pulling out what seemed to be a x-ray scan. A light turns on, the small x-ray board on his desk gaining your attention. He places the scan on it and looks at you. Your brows furrow as you lean forward trying to decipher what you were looking at, drawing a blank, you turn to him. “What is this?”

He releases a soft sigh, a grimace overtaking his features and you can practically see the pity in his eyes. He leans forward, a pen in his hand as he points to one of the many white clumps on the scan. “When we scanned your brain we found these clumps, eight to be exact. These clumps are your brain cells essentially tangling with each other, view them as rubber bands around a watermelon, the more they tangle the greater the pressure until they ultimately burst.”

The doctor continues talking but it grows muffled, nausea rising in you as you begin to fidget in the chair. Your hands shake as you rub them against your thighs, the material of your jeans rough against them. You attempt to catch the breath that seems to want to escape you. Bringing your hand up you rub your thumb knuckle against your eyebrow, a habit you’ve had for years.

“How long?”

It’s clear he wasn’t expecting the interruption as he clears his throat. “Two months.”

Your heart drops.

“Two months?”

“If I’m being optimistic, yes.”

It grows silent due to his words, you bury your face in your hands as you nod into them. You drag them down your face and breathe out to calm yourself. “Is there anything we can do?” Your words come out muffled due to your hands, but the doctor still hears you as he shakes his head.

“Sadly nothing. The best I can do is give you some medicine to ease any pain that will arise.” A tear makes its way down your face, its path cut off by your fingers. The man offers you another small smile as he pushes his chair back, pulling some things out of a drawer. He closes the drawer and pulls himself back into the desk, the creak of the chair sending a pang of pain to your head. You watch as he writes on a paper, sliding it over to you you can see it’s your prescription. Your hands shake as you grab it, as you pick it up you notice a pamphlet under it.

Looking up at him you tilt your head in confusion.

“It’s a pamphlet detailing our end of life program here at the hospital. Nothing has to be decided now of course, but just for your consideration.” You can’t help the scoff that slips out of you, stuffing the script in your pocket you stand abruptly.

“Am I free to go?” The man nods and you don’t give him a chance to speak once more, making sure to leave the pamphlet on purpose.

It’s raining when you get outside and it takes everything in you to not go back into the hospital and cuss them out for bringing you to a hospital twenty minutes away from the cafe, but you decide to not test your already poor luck. It takes you about an hour to make it to the cafe, having to stop to take shelter under a store’s doorway, you release a sigh when you notice that you at least had remembered to keep the top on. Though your gratitude would prove to be fruitless as you yourself are soaked. You wince as you sit down, the leather uncomfortable against your wet skin.

It takes you another hour to get home, stopping to grab your new medicine and food that you knew you would be asked for once you got home. Opening the front door to the studio apartment you are greeted with harsh clicking and curses. The scene isn’t uncommon to you, a smile making its way to your face as you take off your shoes and hear the banging of a desk. Shutting the door softly you walk deeper into the space pausing as you watch Yoonchae play a game.

You met, or really found, Yoonchae when she was only fifteen. Your office had been broken into, when you found her she wasn’t attempting to rob you, but instead just eating the food you had stored there. The sight of her reminded you of well, you. She was terrified when she caught sight of you, begging you to not call the police. After reassuring her, you sat her down and talked to her, it was then you found out she was an orphan and was living on the streets. It didn’t take a lot for you to decide to take her in, offering her not only a home but a job working with you and your vaguely illicit business.

That was two long years ago, and she had become a sister to you. Your heart aches at the realization that soon you would have to leave her. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of not being there for her, your only comfort being she would turn eighteen before you go, ensuring that she wouldn’t have to worry about social workers or anything of the sort. You’re pulled from your thoughts from a sudden shout, shaking your head at the foreign language that spills from her lips.

You approach her as quietly as possible, waiting until it seems something important is happening on the screen before placing the bag of food in her line of sight. She shrieks before hitting your hand to get you to move. You laugh as she panics, when she dies she turns to you quickly. “What is your problem?” She shouts at you.

Her anger only makes you laugh louder as you place the food on the desk next to her. “I think you’re back again.” You say while pointing towards the screen as your laughter dies out. Your words make her turn back towards the screen quickly. As she plays you take it as your chance to run to your room. Grabbing fresh clothes you grab the pills out of your pocket, the weight of their meaning heavy as reality hits you once more.

Untwisting the cap you grab a bottle of water that was on your nightstand and take a couple pills out. When they’re down you hide the bottle in a drawer and head to take a shower.

Once finished you place your soaked clothes in the dryer and head back to the living room throwing yourself on the couch. You watch as Yoonchae turns her chair to face you, french fries sticking out of her mouth. She tries to speak but her words are muffled making you roll your eyes.

“Can you act like a normal human being and speak after you eat?” She flips you off before swallowing her food, making sure to exaggerate the action to irritate you.

“Satisfied?” You nod, which makes her roll her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”

You prop your head on your hand and shrug. “Out.”

“Well no duh smart ass.” You reach out and slap her knee, smirking when she yelps. “What was that for?”

“No swearing.” The younger groans before leaning in and shoving you making you laugh.

“Oh yeah, your girlfriend showed up again today.” You groan moving your hand away from your head, letting it fall on the couch pillow, hoping laying there will somehow suffocate you. Turning your head you look up at her.

“What did she want?” She hums as she turns towards her desk, looking through a stack of paper. She exclaims when she pulls out a bright sticky note, rolling next to you, a smirk is apparent on her face.

“She wants you to steal her away from her wedding.”

At the mention of a wedding you push yourself up. “Someone’s marrying her crazy ass?” Yoonchae nods as she turns back to her computer, opening what seems to be another game. You reposition yourself to sit instead of laying, grabbing a pillow and laying it on your lap. Yoonchae immerses herself in the game and you watch her. You take in this familiar setting, a wave of agony washes over you as you realize that this scene isn’t forever. You shake your head to clear yourself of the thoughts before they could spiral, you sigh softly as you start to speak. “Hey Yoonchae, what would you do if you found out you were going to die?” She didn't respond at first, but you knew she heard you. Her head tilted and her brows furrow, she pauses her game and spins towards you. She hums softly, clearly in thought.

“Well, how long would I have?”

“A couple months.”

She nods slowly before answering, “Well I think I’d find my biological parents first. Then I’d get revenge on everyone who wronged me.” She says this in a tone to show she’s mimicking a villain, making you both laugh. As you both relax she breathes out. “And when I’m in my last moments I’d ask everyone for forgiveness. I’ve wronged many people that deserve an apology from me.” You take in her words with a nod, simply messing with the material on the pillow. “What about you, what would you do?” She asks.

You hum, pretending to think about it though in reality you were trying to find an answer that wouldn’t give off your current predicament. “Well,” you start, settling on piggybacking off her answer, “My parents are dead. I’ve wronged more people than I have been wronged, so I guess I’d have to go down the forgiveness route.”

The younger nods before turning back to the computer, unpausing her game.

That night you find yourself struggling to sleep, the weight of reality crushing you. You were dying, soon too. Yoonchae’s words echo in your mind, one in particular — forgiveness.

The truth was you weren’t a very good person, sure you weren’t terrible, but you’ve hurt enough people that the news of your death would probably make them happy. Your jaw clenches as you attempt to sort through your mind to remember their names, not knowing whether to blame your fading memory on your brain quickly deteriorating or just poor genetics taking effect.

Your brain somehow musters up five names, but it doesn’t give you much relief as you realize you would now have to come up with five very different ways to ask for forgiveness.

When your brain has a flash of pain you knew it was a task for you tomorrow. As you try to let sleep take you your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you scold yourself for forgetting to turn off the ringer. Picking up your phone you see a notification, one you have no reason to be getting, announcing auditions being held in New York for backup dancers for an artist tour.

You hum taking it in, your brain working overtime as a plan appears in your head, placing your phone back on the nightstand you knew what you were doing tomorrow.

You wake up the next morning with your head in a porcelain bowl, your body rejecting everything it has ever eaten, which wasn’t a lot, learning you’re going to die tends to ruin one’s appetite. When you’re confident you are good to move, you push yourself up but find yourself grasping onto your sink counter. You close your eyes as your head pounds and the room spins around you.

The cool marble of the counter does little to ground you, and you feel as though you’re floating until there's a knock on the door. You hold your breath, trying to ease the sharp pain that each knock brought.

“You okay?” You feel your heart drop at Yoonchae’s voice, you didn’t want her seeing you like this. With a newfound strength you rush to clean up your mess, when you do you turn on the sink brushing your teeth, wincing as the taste of mint brings back nausea. Finishing you turn off the faucet, place your toothbrush back and inhale as your now shaky hands grab the doorknob.

You try to compose yourself before opening the door to see a very concerned Yoonchae staring back at you.

“Hey.”

Yoonchae raises an eyebrow at you. “Hey? You good?” You nod in response as you pray she doesn’t notice the shiver that racks over your body, she doesn’t but you can tell she doesn’t fully believe you. “You sure?”

“Yup. Pancakes for breakfast?” The question successfully distracts her as she nods enthusiastically. “Alright, get everything ready for me I’ll be there in a second.” She rushes to the kitchen and you let your body lax against the door allowing yourself slight relief, which is short lasting as another sharp pain presents itself in your head. You push yourself off the door and turn off the light as you stumble out to the hallways.

You drag yourself against the wall to your room, the hallway spinning around you. When you get to your room you stumble into it, practically falling as you search the desk for your medicine. Finding it you open it and take a few in hope of relieving this pain you’re in. You lean against the desk with your eyes closed, letting the symptoms pass through.

When you’re able to open your eyes without feeling like throwing up or like you’re being stabbed in your head you cuss yourself out for not asking about the symptoms you’ll face or how fast you were going to experience them. Shaking your head you close the bottle and hide them again before making your way to the kitchen where Yoonchae is sitting on the counter.

“About time,” she jumps off the counter and shoves a bowl of pancake batter in your hands, “I’m starving chop chop.”

You laugh and head to the stove, which was already on with a pan on it. “You already put butter on it?” You hear her grunt in response which you take as a no and butter the pan. It’s quiet as you cook, Yoonchae on her phone and you deep in thought. The auditions were held in a little over month, and were on the other side of the country, a trip that could take quite a bit if timed right. With just a bit of planning this could definitely be your forgiveness plan.

Turning the stove off you slide a plate of pancakes to the girl and sit across from her. You watch as she eats happily, a small smile making its way to your face. She looks up and glares. “Why aren’t you eating?” Her cheeks are stuffed and her words are muffled which make you laugh.

“What I say about eating and talking?” She rolls her eyes and stuffs her mouth again. “If I sent you a list of names, could you find their locations?”

Yoonchae nods and swallows her food. “As long as they exist I can find them.” You nod before pushing your plate towards her, which she happily takes.

Standing from the table you make sure to push your chair in. “I need you to find some people while I’m out today.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You tilt your head back enjoying the sun on your skin. You’re a sight to see, leaned up against your bright blue Jeep with sunglasses covering your eyes. Bringing your head down you catch sight of a woman eyeing you as she walks past. Lifting your sunglasses up you wink at her, making the woman flustered as she walks away.

You let the glasses drop over your eyes once more as you bring your eyes back to the building in front of you. When you bring your hand up to check the time you see people pour out of the building, you nod in satisfaction as the time coincided perfectly with the break, just as you planned.

You see her before she sees you, at least that’s what you believe before she walks right past you to cross the street. A scoff leaves you before you nod and push off the side of your car following behind her.

“Daniela!” She ignores your shout, but you know she heard you. But giving her the benefit of the doubt you call for her again. “Dani! I know you can hear me!”

She doesn’t turn back but instead tries to walk faster past the people on the sidewalk you guys were now on.

“Is this really how we’re going to act?” You shout. And when she continues to keep walking you nod to yourself. “Fine, I guess I’ll just have to scream as loud as possible to get your and everyone's attention.” This causes her to freeze and you smile knowing you got her. You quickly let the smile drop when she turns around, the anger very clear on her face.

“You wouldn’t.” The disdain in her tone brings a pleasant chill down your spine.

“Oh, but I would and you know it too.” Her jaw clenches and you enjoy the sharpness it brings to her jawline. You watch as her knuckles go white from her hold tightening on the strap of her bag.

“What do you want?”

You tilt your head to the side, acting as if you’re thinking about it when the truth is you already know. “Get lunch with me?”

She scoffs before looking at you with disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?” You nod, and she has to look around to see if she is being pranked before she turns back to you. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Huffing out she licks her lips in annoyance. “Why the hell would I ever go out anywhere with you?”

“I’ll pay for it.” Her features relax and you can see the wheels in her mind start to turn, you smile knowing that you got her.

“I’m choosing the place.”

You nod and lift your arms. “Lead the way.” She turns around leaving you to follow her. You find yourself being led to a very clearly expensive restaurant, which didn’t surprise you, you guys did live in Los Angeles after all.

The waiter brings you guys to a table by a window, when you both take a seat he places a menu in front of both of you guys.

“Can I start you guys off with a drink?”

“Yes,” Daniela starts, “I’ll have a diet Coke, and I’m sure she’ll have whatever diabolical, heart stopping drink there is.”

The man laughs politely before turning to you expectantly. “I’ll just have water, thank you.” Daniela looks at you with disbelief as your waiter nods and walks away.

“Water? Really?”

You shrug. “I’m trying to be a bit healthier.”

“Why? Are you dying?” And you know she’s joking, but you feel yourself tense up, your hand gripping the napkin on the table. When she notices you not laughing she stops, raising a brow. “I was just joking, lighten up. I’m not that lucky.” Her words cause a laugh to leave you, she truly had no idea.

The waiter comes back with both of your drinks, when he places them down he pulls out a device to start your order. “Are you guys ready or would you need a few more minutes?” You nod, though you hadn’t even opened the menu, you know you were going to order whatever Daniela was going to.

“Can I have the dumpling soup, please?” The waiter of course nods before turning to you.

“I’ll have the same.” You tell him offering a thank you as he grabs both the menus from the both. When he walks away once more Daniela takes a sip of her drink before clearing her throat.

“So why have you come to see me today?”

You sigh softly. “Let's wait till the food comes out first.”

Daniela groans quite loudly, garnering a few stares, though she doesn’t care. “Why not just tell me now? Why are you dragging this out?”

“Because, we’re here to eat, so let’s just wait. Why don’t we just catch up?”

“Catch up? Are you serious?” Her jaw clenches, leaning back into the seat she crosses her arms. The scene isn’t unfamiliar to you, the only difference between then and now is her eyes are now filled with hatred and not heartbreak.

You both stay silent until the food comes, before you can even consider getting a taste Daniela finally speaks. “Will you tell me now?”

“I see patience still isn’t your strong suit.”

Daniela scoffs and lets her spoon drop to the table with a clank. “Are you of all people seriously criticizing me?”

“It’s not criticizing, I’m simply pointing out an observation.”

The blonde doesn’t say anything, instead silently seething. She pushes back from the table and stands. “I’m not doing this with you, enjoy your lunch.” But before she can walk away you stand, grabbing her wrist.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Please, sit back down.” You can see the hesitance on her face, and she doesn’t move. “Please.” You try again. She huffs out as she harshly pulls away and goes back to her seat. She takes a sip of her soup while you sit back down across her.

She looks up at you as she takes another spoonful, cocking an eyebrow. “Can I ask you to continue now or will I still be considered impatient?”

You shake your head. “I wanted to meet you today because I’m going on a trip and I want you to come with me.”

She doesn’t react, not at first at least, but when she does it isn’t one that surprises you. Her laughter, though directed at you, is comforting due to it being familiar. When she realizes you aren’t laughing she clears her throat and places the spoon down once more. “You’re being serious.” It’s more of an observation than a question and when you nod in response she leans back in her chair once more. “Why the hell would I go on a trip with you?”

“Cause I’ll pay you a lot more than what your job is.”

She leans forward and you cringe slightly as her elbows rest on the table. “How much we talking?”

“How ever much you want.”

Her eyebrow raises and her honey eyes are filled with suspicion and curiosity. “So if I were to say…three hundred fifty thousand?”

You sigh as you begin to do some math in your mind before pursing your lips and nodding. “That’s doable.”

“Seriously?” She exclaims, knocking her elbow onto the table, hissing as she rubs it and you clean the small drops of soup she splashed onto the table.

“Yeah, seriously.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” You shrug as you reach into your pocket to pull out your wallet. Grabbing a few bills you lay them on the table and push your bowl towards her carefully to ensure it doesn’t spill.

“You don’t, you’ll just have to trust me.” Standing, you smile once more at her. “I’d consider putting your two weeks in when you get back, we leave when that time runs out.” You don’t wait for a response, you simply place your wallet back into your pocket and leave.

Yoonchae grunts as she places a bag into the trunk. “You sure I can’t come with you?” You nod as you place another bag next to the one she just placed. Closing the trunk you turn to her offering her a small smile. She nods, but you can tell there is something wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

She chews at her bottom lip and it worries you, Yoonchae was not someone who would hesitate to speak. “Chae?”

“Are you okay?” She blurts out the question and it shocks you.

“Yes, of course, why?” The younger shrugs and it’s clear she has no trust within your answer. “Hey,” you start to grab her attention, lifting her chin gently so she has no choice but to look at you. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just…you asked that death question and now you’re going on a trip to apologize to your exes. I can’t help but think that there is something you’re not telling me.” You take in her words slowly, silently cursing at just how smart the younger one is. You know this could be your chance to come clean, but just the thought of leaving her with worry solidifies your choice in keeping your condition a secret.

“I’m not hiding anything, that day I almost got hit by a car and I guess it put things into perspective.” The younger one nods slowly, but you can still see the doubt. So you do what you know will work. She looks up as you bring your pinky up, her eyes lighting up when she realizes what it is. Lifting her own pinky she interlocks hers with yours. “Better?” You ask her.

“Yup.” And when she pulls her finger away you feel your stomach drop in guilt. She leans against the back of your Jeep as you bring your wrist up to check your watch.

“I should start heading out.” She pushes off the car with a frown. “You remember the rules?”

Her eyes roll in annoyance. “Yes.”

“Repeat them.”

You hold back a laugh as she groans. “No physical jobs and no one allowed in the house.” You nod in approval. “Though I don’t know why I can’t do any drop offs, I’m strong.”

“That lie aside, I need you to be safe. I hired someone to do those physical jobs for me while I’m gone. She should be here tomorrow.”

Yoonchae looks at you in disbelief. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she isn’t then.” You say to her as you walk along the side of your car, opening the door to the driver side when you reach it. “Consider her your first employee.”

“Employee?” She trails off, her eyebrows furrow before they relax as excitement takes over her face. “Does that mean?” The smile on her face is huge as you nod.

“Yes, when I come back you’ll be taking over. So remember to keep her at the same standard. No questions, nothing obviously illegal, and no missing person cases.” You can tell she isn’t listening to you as she’s way too busy celebrating the news instead, it doesn’t anger you though, you trust her. You interrupt her celebration by bringing her into a hug, which she reciprocates immediately. “I’m gonna miss you Chip.”

“I’m gonna miss you too Dale.” She says to you, and the old nickname hurts your heart slightly.

“Call me everyday, alright? And be nice to your employee.” You tell her as you get in the car.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be a better boss than you don’t worry.” She says as she leans into the window, and you laugh.

“Now go inside, I’ll call you when I reach Phoenix.” She nods, shoving your head once before heading inside the apartment.

When you reach Daniela’s place she’s waiting outside with a huge suitcase and annoyance clear on her face. As soon as you park the car and get out she’s already pulling her luggage towards your trunk. “Took you long enough, what were you doing, killing someone for someone else?”

You scoff. “I’m not a murderer.”

“I’m sure you would be if the price was right.” She says as she places her stuff in the trunk once you open it for her.

“I see you still don’t understand what I do for work.”

“Oh really?” Her tone is condescending as she closes the trunk and heads to the passenger while you head to the driver. When she gets in she buckles herself in and turns towards you. “If I don’t understand, why don’t you tell me then?”

You turn on the car after buckling yourself in. “I get paid to do tasks that people don’t want to do themselves.”

She scoffs as you begin to drive, following the path the GPS lays out for you. “And you’re telling me murder isn’t one of those things people have asked of you?”

“Yoonchae and I don’t do anything illegal.”

“That’s right you looped a child into your nonsense.” She connects her phone to your car's bluetooth, playing some random song from her library. “Speaking of which, my phones have been acting really weird since we’ve broken up.”

You feel her eyes on you, taking a glance at her, you roll your eyes at the accusatory look she’s giving you. “Nothing to do with us. You know for someone judging what I do so much you seem mighty comfortable taking money from me, which, by the way, comes from said terrible business.”

“Of course, it’s like Robin Hood. I’m taking from the evil rich, you, and giving to the kind poor, me.” She says it smugly and you just shake your head, focusing your attention only on driving. The drive is mainly quiet, Daniela not wanting to talk to you more than she has to, and you simply lost in your thoughts. When your head started to ache midway through the drive you took it as the perfect time to stop, blaming it on low gas when Daniela looked at you confused. As she headed in to use the bathroom and get snacks, you had snuck a couple of pills in hopes your head calmed; it didn't.

Driving the rest of the way was hellish as Daniela’s music blasted and the cold of the AC brought chills to your body. When you finally arrived at the hotel, you rushed the check in. Grabbing your bags you threw one key at Daniela and ran to your room, practically throwing yourself on the bed.

You close your eyes as you let the coolness of the sheets ease your head. You don’t open your eyes when the door opens knowing that it was Daniela. She huffs as she lets the door slam behind her and you feel something hit your face. Moving the blanket that was now covering it, you slowly open your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting asshole.” She says as she sits on her own bed. You don’t respond as you close your eyes once more. You feel yourself drifting off until something hits your face again.

It takes everything in you not to lose your mind as you pull the pillow away and lift yourself up. Propping yourself up on your hand you look at her. “Yes?”

“I’m hungry.” You let out an exasperated groan at her words.

“Then get something.” You close your eyes once more as you hear her huff. You think you’re free as you hear muttering and moving around until you feel a presence above you. Opening one eye you look at her with annoyance.

“Are you seriously going to sleep when you haven’t washed up or anything?” You exaggerate a groan as you push yourself up, your head aching terribly at this point. Pushing past her you make a show of grabbing your stuff and heading towards the bathroom.

When you close the door behind you, you stumble slightly and throw your stuff haphazardly on the counter. As the ground beneath you starts to move you still yourself against the marbled counter, grazing your thumb against it you allow the coolness to send chills through your body.

Your mind stops spinning and the floor stills under you and you finally open your eyes. Splashing water on your face you go and turn on the shower.

When you finally finish you have no energy left in you, stepping out you see Daniela eating while watching something on TV. Throwing your clothes on your bag you flop onto the bed once more.

“I put your stuff in the fridge.” It surprises you, you expected her to not grab anything for you, your drive having been nothing but silence.

You muster up a thanks though as you use whatever little strength you have left and head to the room’s mini fridge. Inside you find the food, you’re surprised when you realize she remembered what you liked. You bring it to your bed, not worrying about the light coolness of the food now.

You both eat in silence, the only sound coming from the TV, playing some show you didn’t know.

When you can’t eat anymore you get up and put it back in the mini fridge. As you go to head back you see her getting up to do the same. You stop her before she gets up and hold your hands up. “Here, I got it.” She raises an eyebrow and hands you her leftovers before getting back in her bed.

After you finish you walk back to your bed, turning off your side lamp as you finally lay down.

“Is it cool if I leave the TV on?” Daniela asks. It was a question you knew was coming, Daniela hated the dark.

“I’m still scared of the dark.”

You smile as she says the words. “I know.” You speak softly, not knowing whether it was to not startle her or because of exhaustion. “It’s fine.”

She doesn’t respond and you take that as the end until she speaks once more. “Did you call Yoonchae?” It impresses you how she remembered what you didn’t.

“No.” You say lowly. “I’ll text her now and call her in the morning, I’m drained.” But before you can reach for your phone which was charging on the nightstand next to you she speaks out.

“Is her number still the same? I can call her while you sleep.” You sigh out at her words, relief filling you.

“It is, thank you.”

She lets you speak the last line, and as you begin to drift off you hear her whispering softly on her side.

You wake early the next morning, the TV now playing an old sitcom. You stand and go for the pill bottle hidden deeply in your backpack. Stuffing it in your pocket you then head to your other bag to grab clothes for yourself. Heading to the bathroom you get ready for the day. Daniela is still sleeping when you finish, and you don’t expect her to wake up any time soon. So you decide to get you both some breakfast.

After grabbing your phone, wallet, and room key you leave. Phoenix is already hot when you step out, though it’s a heat you’re slightly familiar with because of living in Los Angeles, it still makes you uncomfortable due to it being elevated here. Not many stores are open as the sun was just rising, and as the sky turns beautiful shades of pinks and oranges you can’t help but take a picture of it. Sending it to Yoonchae, you stuff your phone back in your pocket and look up.

You see people shuffling into one store, which seemed to be a cafe. Seeing as it seemed popular you decide to head in too. Your assumption was solidified as the inside was slightly crowded, office workers outweigh the everyday person. The cafe workers are clearly great at their job though as you find yourself at the front of the line quickly.

You order yourself coffee, Daniela some matcha drink you’re sure she’ll like, and you both breakfast. It’s done quickly and you leave a tip as thank you. You take your stuff outside and sit on the curb, past you would be a bit more worrisome about how you looked to others, but the you now realized time was too short to worry about such things.

You take a sip of your coffee as you watch the sky shift, the colors changing gradually. Your shirt sticks to your back, but you don’t worry too much, instead you keep your eyes on the sky. As it shifts to blue and the clouds become more scarce, the street around you begins to liven. But you still pay it no mind as you take your first bite of the bagel you had ordered.

As you sit there you decide what you want your last moments to be; laying in the grass and taking in the beautiful blue of the sky.

By the time you finish Daniela’s drink is warm, and you know she would kill you if you handed her it. So, getting up you toss it in the nearby trash can, wincing at the thought of wasting, before walking back into the cafe.

New drink in hand along with her still warm bagel you head back to the hotel. Walking into the room you find Daniela not only wide awake, but singing and dancing around the room. You leaned against the door to watch her better, as you take in the happiness you haven’t seen in her in a while to your surprise you feel your heart race. Your jaw clenches as you push back the old feelings that are suddenly trying to resurface. Pushing off the door you make your presence known.

When she turns to you you lift up her food and drink. “Room service.” She squeals in surprise before heading into the bathroom to take out her toothbrush. When she comes back she snatches the food from you and takes a seat at the desk. As she digs in you start to pack up your stuff. “Checkout ends in an hour.”

She doesn’t respond, but you know she heard you. When you finish getting your stuff together, which wasn’t very long, you didn’t take many things out, you drop back on the bed. Opening it you see multiple texts from Yoonchae, all complaints about the roommate you have found for her. Shaking your head you call her.

She answers the call immediately and you hear a loud groan.

“Why did you have to hire her? She’s so fucking boring.”

You laugh. “That’s a good thing, you need someone who will bore you and keep you straight.” She scoffs and you can hear the familiar foreign curses. “Where’d you even find her? The library in the news section or whatever sections they have there.”

“Your lack of knowledge in libraries is very concerning, maybe I’ll ask Giselle to bring you to one.” This answer gets you hung up on and you can’t help the shocked laugh that escapes you.

“She hung up on you?” Daniela asks, she has turned the chair around to look at you. You nod and she laughs too. You watch as she gets up to toss her stuff away and also get her stuff together. When she finishes you get up and grab both of yours' stuff.

“Can you reach inside my wallet and leave a tip for the staff?” You ask her, and she nods reaching inside your pant pockets and you have to physically hold off any chills you get from her touch. She opens the wallet and pulls out a few bills, you don’t see which they are, but you know she definitely pulled out some big ones, not that you minded.

After she checked the room to make sure you guys had everything, you both head down to the lobby, where you check out with a thanks. When you finish putting your stuff in the trunk you both get in.

“So, where to next?”

You adjust the car AC before twisting your body to face her. “Houston, but I have to stop somewhere around here first. It shouldn’t be too long.” She nods and turns on her music once more. It doesn’t take you long to get to your destination, the house you were heading to being very close.

“Umm…” Daniela turns to you with furrowed brows, “Whose house is this?”

You sigh, turning off the car and unbuckling your seat. You don’t answer her quite yet as you get out of the car and head to the trunk. You pull out a hidden duffel bag which was filled with money. Grabbing a couple stacks you head to Daniela’s side of the car and lean into the window.

“Old friend’s house, I won’t be long.” You don’t give her a chance to respond as you turn and head towards the house.

As you get closer to the door your heart begins to race and your nervousness starts to rise. It takes you a few moments to hype yourself enough to knock on the door. You hear someone yell that they’re coming and you begin to really feel sick. When the door finally opens you’re transported back to your teenage self.

“Hi Manon.” Your words come out weak and barely above a whisper, but you know the other hears you as she chuckles lightly.

“You have a lot of nerve.” She tells you, and you can’t help the small smile that rises from the familiar words.

“So I’ve heard.” She nods as she takes you in, tilting her head to the side with a sigh.

“You look like shit.” And the words make you laugh, though they really shouldn’t.

“Would you believe me if I told you I hear that too?”

She chuckles once more, though this one is more of a hum than a laugh before leaning against her door. “What do you want?” At her question you raise your hands, showing the stacks of money you had taken. Her eyes widen in shock as she straightens herself and sticks herself out slightly looking around. Not seeing any of her neighbors she pulls herself back in and moves to the side. “Come in.”

You nod and step inside her house. Stepping past the threshold you are met with immediate coolness and the smell of lavender. A soft hum rings through the house from a machine deeper inside the residence, you don’t pay it much mind as she closes the door behind you and motions for you to follow her to a table that was in the dining room. “Sit here.” She says as she points to one of the brown chairs. She heads back into the kitchen while you place the cash on the table.

When she comes back she places a glass of water in front of you. “Here.” You mutter a small thanks, taking a sip, while she takes one of the stacks and starts to inspect it. You let her be while you take in the rest of the house, or at least what you can see. It’s clear she lives alone, as the table only has two tablemats, one of which is clearly unused.

Her house seems to be decorated more for comfort than aesthetic, not that it was ugly, it was just more comfortable.

Taking another sip of your water, you jump when you feel something graze your leg. Looking down you see a cat, rubbing once more against your leg. You push back your chair and lean down to pick it up. You rub the center of its head, right between its ears, smiling when you feel it purr.

“Her name is Ophelia.” Manon says as she places the stack back on the table. You nod at her words, rubbing Ophelia’s head once more before placing her down on the floor. You watch as she struts away.

“She’s pretty.” You say, following the cat's movements as she heads to a bowl near the wall. Manon hums in agreement before taking a sip of her own drink, tea you assume as you watch steam rise from the cup. “She’s a brat.” She says after a few beats of silence, and you laugh softly.

It grows silent again, you waiting for her to lead the conversation. She picks at her nails while you rub a thumb against the glass of your cup. “How long do you have?” She asks. The question surprises you, but you don’t let it show as you wipe away the condensation the ice in the cup causes. She gives you the time to breathe as she takes another sip of her tea.

“How’d you know?” You ask her as you let your hand fall from the glass, crossing your arms while you lean back. She lets out a soft hum as she breathes out, clearly trying to collect her thoughts and choose the right words.

“My mother.” She sighs looking down momentarily before looking up once more. “Before she passed she looked just like you. Sunken cheeks, dull eyes, and slight tremors.” A laugh escapes you at the last one, you thought you were able to hide the now consistent shake of your hands. “What is it?” She asks when you look up at her once more.

You purse your lips as you move one of your arms to the armrest, resting your head in your hand. Rubbing your thumb against your eyebrow you sigh as you let your arm drop once more. “My brain doesn’t want to work anymore.”

She nods, sighing. “The brain is a tricky one.”

“Don’t I know it.” You trail off, turning towards Ophelia who was now laying near the windowsill. “I have a little over a month left.” You hear her breath catch, and watch as drops of tea spill on the table from her bumping her knee against it.

“That’s…” She trails off, but you bring your eyes back to the window, taking in the sky once again. “I’m sorry.” Her words are earnest and you nod. “So, this.” You look back at her to find her pointing towards the two stacks of cash. “Is some sort of last chance to heaven sort of thing?”

You laugh at the words and shake your head. “I don’t believe in a heaven. It’s an apology of sorts. I…I wasn’t the best person to you when we broke up, and I know money can’t really cover for that, but as you know I don’t really have the time to make it up to you as I should.” She stands from her seat when you finish and you follow her curiously. She walks past you and your view of her is blocked and you can’t help but wonder if you messed up. You sit up when she comes back with a rag in her hand and heads back to her side of the table, wiping up the drops of tea.

She folds up the rags as she sits back down looking at you. “You’re right it doesn’t make up for it, but I appreciate it.” And you breathe out in relief. “Is the girl waiting in your car part of this ‘forgiveness crusade’?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you do to her?”

This question makes you clearly tense as you remember just what you had done to the woman in your car. “I broke up with her because she ‘wasn’t fun.’” Manon winces at your words, shaking her head.

“That ones worse than what you said to me.” And you can’t help but agree with her. Your break up with Daniela was ugly and cruel, and you can still remember the way she looked at you, hurt so clear in her eyes you wanted to do nothing but rip your heart out. At the thought of this the regret is clear on your face and Manon takes note of it. “You didn’t mean, did you?”

“No.” You bring your hand back up to the cup and rub your thumb once more, erasing the condensation. “It was getting serious and I was scared.”

Manon hums. “Sounds like you. How you making it up to her?”

“She’s a dancer and I’m bringing her to an audition for a tour in New York. Oh, and some money.” She takes in your words as she takes another sip of her tea.

“Do you still like her?”

You fidget slightly in the chair at the question. Licking your lips you breathe through your nose, humming softly. And Manon nods with a knowing smile on her face. The soft hum of the machine in the background stops and you take it as your way out.

“I should get going, I have to get to Houston.” And Manon nods once again and the smirk on her face makes you roll your eyes. She walks with you towards the front door.

“Who is next?”

“An old friend I fell out with.” You tell her as you open the door, your head starting to pound slightly. As you’re about to walk out she calls for you. When you turn around you feel slightly lightheaded, and you’re so out of it you don’t notice the look of horror on her face. The last thing you hear before everything goes black is her saying that you're bleeding.

You wake to the sound of cussing and it takes you a few seconds to recognize the ceiling of your car. Feeling a warm breeze you look over to see the passenger window is open. You sit up and hear Daniela start cursing again.

“Stupid fucking GPS, how are you rerouting me when I’m not even off the highway yet?”

You turn yourself to face the front and place an arm on both of the front seats. Leaning forward you turn towards her. “It’s probably because the car is programmed for Canada.”

You wince when she screams and grip the headrests tightly when she swerves. You stay silent as she pulls to the side of the highway and jump when she turns to you suddenly after putting on the hazard lights. “What the fuck is your problem?” You lean back as she shouts and smile widely.

“I didn’t do anything.” You nod towards the GPS. “Where we going?”

“The hospital.” She glares and crosses her arms. “Why the fuck is your car programmed for Canada?”

You snort at her question. “What is this? Twenty questions? Scoot over.” She moves out of the driver’s seat and into the passengers while you pull yourself towards the front. When you settle in the seat and buckle yourself in you turn to look at her. “I pissed Yoonchae off last year so she decided to fuck with the whole system. Took her an entire month just to give me my music back.”

She laughs incredulously as you turn off the car GPS and take out your phone to start the route to the hotel in Houston. As you put your phone in the holder she turns to look at you confused. “Where are we going?”

“Houston.” You can feel her stare on you as you merge back onto the highway.

“Shouldn’t we be going to hospital?”

“Why?”

She slaps your arm and you wince. “Maybe cause you fainted.” You raise a hand to wave her off.

“Dehydration. I’m fine now.” You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and grimace when you catch the sight of dry blood. “Can you wet a napkin and give it to me?”

She does as you ask of her and when she hands it to you she starts again. “That didn’t seem like a simple pass out. I mean you were bleeding!” She points towards the napkin that now laid in your hand to emphasize her point. “Plus that girl seemed really freaked out.” She says this with a weird tone, but you brush it off with a sigh.

“I’m fine.”

But your response isn’t believable to her. “I don’t know, I think we should go-” You cut her off with a groan.

“I said I’m fine! Can we drop it now?” You didn’t mean for your tone to be so harsh, but before you can fix anything she huffs.

“Fine, be like that. I don’t give a fuck.” She turns towards the window and the car goes silent. It doesn’t take long for you to feel bad and you can’t help but take small glances at Daniela. After about half an hour you cave in, not being able to take the silence.

“I’m sorry.” You start. “You were just being caring and I had no reason to yell at you.” She stays silent but you know she heard you due to her scoffing as soon as you finished. Sighing, you try again. “You know I’ve planned for us to stay in Houston for a few days, meaning we’ll have a lot of free time. So…we can do anything you want.”

This gets her to break as she turns her body back towards you. “Anything?” You nod to confirm and she exclaims immediately before she starts listing everything she would be forcing you to do. With the mood much lighter you can’t help but smile, feeling lighter than ever.

By the time you get to Houston you both are exhausted, after checking in you both get into the room and crash.

When you wake up the sun is setting and the smell of food fills the room. Turning your head you see Daniela holding a plate of food in front of your face with a smile. “Look what I got.” She says in a sing-songy tone causing you to laugh. Lifting yourself up you stretch before sitting against the headboard and grabbing the food from Daniela.

“Thank you.” She nods and hops back onto her bed before grabbing her own food. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you were halfway done. Daniela groans and you look over to see her plate cleared.

“I’ve never eaten anything that good before, my god.” You agree with her and turn your attention to the cartoon playing on the TV. “So I was thinking tomorrow we go to the zoo, eat lunch there, you buy me and Yoonchae some souvenirs, then we come back, change and go to this fancy restaurant I saw.”

You look at her, your brows furrowing in confusion. “Fancy?”

She nods excitedly as she gets up from her bed haphazardly, her phone in hand. When she stands in front of you she shoves her phone in your face. You have to lean back a bit to get your eyes to focus on the screen. When you can finally see clearer you see a well rated restaurant that looks extremely expensive. But it’s not that that worries you, it’s how weirdly intimate and dare you even say, romantic the atmosphere seemed.

You bring your eyes up to her face and at the look of excitement you decide to keep that thought to yourself. You slightly nod to let her know you’ve seen what she wanted you to see and she pulls the phone back, jumping on her bed.

She kicks her feet up and down, humming as she scrolls through her phone and you can’t help but watch her. You feel your heart start to flutter and your mind goes back to your conversation with Manon. You absolutely did still love Daniela, but to be completely honest with yourself you don’t think you ever stopped. It didn’t help that Daniela seemed to have warmed up to you once again.

Before your mind could spiral any further your head starts to throb, and just like that you’re brought back to reality.

Sighing softly you stand to put your food away, your appetite now disappearing.

You both spend the rest of the night watching random cartoons before falling asleep once more and before you know it you’re standing in front of capybaras with a pair of tiger ears on your head.

When one of the animals gets closer to the glass she runs and shoves her phone in your hands. “Quick, take a pic of me and the baby!”

You nod and lift her phone up, taking a couple pictures before your breath catches in your throat. You look over her phone to get a better look and your face starts to burn when you do. Daniela seems to be loved by heaven as the sun suddenly hits her perfectly. Her already light eyes seem to brighten, and the lip gloss she’s wearing seems to sparkle. She pushes away from the exhibit to come closer to you, and you can see her freckles clearly when she comes up right in front of you.

God, she is so beautiful.

You don’t realize she’s talking to you, until you see her glare in suspicion. “Sorry?” You say to her, your mind still reeling, but you try your best to pay attention to her.

“I asked how I looked.”

“Oh.” You hand her phone to her. “You looked beautiful.” Your words come out more breathless than you mean for it too, and it surprises Daniela. Her cheeks become slightly red and she looks away as she grabs, or more so snatches, her phone from you. “Good.” She says, still refusing to look at you. “Let’s go to the tortoises now, I want to feed them.”

You don’t bother responding and just follow behind her. When you guys make it to the exhibit you show them your ticket and they hand you the food, which you give to Daniela. The animals immediately walk over to the fence when Daniela kneels down and holds a piece of lettuce for them. You watch the smile grow impossibly wider on her face as she continues to feed them and you immediately take a picture. Your heart jumps when she looks up, and you can’t help but take another one.

“Come here and feed one.” You nod immediately, placing your phone back in Daniela’s bag, which she had you holding, you go to her side and lean down next to her, grabbing a piece of lettuce she was giving to you.

A tortoise immediately eats from you, and you see why Daniela is so excited by it. When it finishes eating you grab your phone again and ask for another piece of lettuce, which Daniela gives you, and you take a video of you feeding it.

As soon as the lettuce runs out Daniela complains about being hungry, so you both settle on getting ice cream to save room for dinner. After buying you both ice cream, vanilla with sprinkles, you guys sit on a bench and eat it in a happy silence.

Crunching happily on the cone the blonde turns to you. “I’m surprised you still have the ears on.” Her words are muffled, and you have to fight the reflex to scold her.

You shrug lightly. “You said they’re cute.” She smiles and nods before turning back to her cone.

After you both finish you spend a few more hours exploring the animal exhibits before calling it a day and heading back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. You get ready first, thankful you brought a few fancy, or fancy adjacent, outfits with you. As you are in the bathroom finishing up, you decide to take a few pills in hopes to prevent any episodes.

When you finish you get out and sit at the desk chair waiting for Daniela. You spend most of your time texting Yoonchae, most of it being her complaining than anything else. You look up when you hear the bathroom door open, sitting up immediately when you see how she looks.

She’s wearing a very pretty dress that holds tight to her body. Your mouth goes dry as you trace her curves with her eyes. She doesn’t seem to notice as she smiles at you. “Ready?”

You nod and follow her out. During the drive to the restaurant you can’t help but take multiple glances in adoration. When you guys arrive you open the door for her before the valet attendant could, and smile even wider when she thanks you. Handing the keys to the attendant you both walk into the restaurant.

As soon as you crossed the threshold your thoughts from the night prior were confirmed; this restaurant’s atmosphere is very intimate and romantic. You hear Daniela gasp softly and you look towards her in concern. “It’s so beautiful here.” You feel chills run down your spine at her words, did she like this atmosphere? Did she choose this type of place on purpose?

You don’t get to think about this for long as the host waves for you two to come closer. You let Daniela handle everything, since she had book the reservation, and you two are led to your table. You make sure to pull out her chair for her before taking your own seat.

Your eyes widen when you take a look at the prices. “This place is expensive.” Not that you were worried, and it’s clear Dani wasn’t either as she simply hums. It doesn’t take long for the waitress to come to your table with water, which the blonde makes sure to point out how fancy the glass looks. Dani then orders for you both, which doesn’t bother you, you liked it when she chose things for you.

“So,” she starts, “What are we here in Houston for again?”

Putting your glass back down you look up at her. “Meeting an old friend.” She grunts slightly and her reaction surprises you. When she sees you look at her in confusion she starts again.

“Just wondering why you keep calling your exes your friends.” Her answer makes your heart skip, as you try to decipher her disdain. Rubbing your hands against your pants you swallow your own saliva at the possibility of her potentially being jealous.

“She’s not an ex, she truly was just a friend.”

Dani nods as she breaks the piece of bread that was her plate, making it clear she wasn’t going to eat it. “What’d you do to her?”

You truthfully didn’t want to answer that question, you were just getting on Dani’s good side, potentially even reigniting a romance with her. But you also knew with just how fragile your twos’ relationship stood at this moment you couldn’t lie to her, especially given the huge lie you were feeding her everyday. So clearing your throat you speak. “I stole her idea for the business, and left her alone.”

She grimaces at your words and you look down. “Well, at least it wasn’t worse than what you did to me.” And you can’t help but frown at her words.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that before.” But since you were still looking down at your lap she didn't hear you clearly.

“What’d you say?” You look up and clear your throat, but before you go again the waitress comes back and places your food down. After pouring wine in both your wine glasses she leaves you two alone once more. When Dani takes the first bite you decide to try again.

“I’m sorry. What I said to you, it wasn’t true and was just meant as a way to be cruel. I shouldn’t have said that and if I could take it back I would.” You wince when Dani’s knife scrapes against the plate as she freezes. When she looks up her hazel eyes are filled with emotions, but the most noticeable is rage. She places her cutlery down as she leans in, her tone rough.

“What do you mean it wasn’t true?” Inhaling you sit up straighter, clearing your throat once more out of nerves rather than necessity.

“I had broken up with you because I was scared. Because we were becoming more serious. So I just said whatever I could to get you to never reach back out.”

You words cause her to scoff and you see her try to quell the anger that she is now feeling. Her jaw clenches and though you know her anger towards you is not good you can’t help but appreciate just how pretty she looks even enraged.

Turning back to you she sighs through her nose. “Let’s not talk about this right now, we can discuss this later.” And she goes back to eating while you can only watch her like you were a child that had been scolded. The air is tense and it’s clear the waitress can feel it when she had come back, offering you a sympathetic smile as she checks on you both. When she leaves you wish she had taken you with her.

You don’t bother eating, your appetite gone now that you knew Dani was angry at you and it seems your actions just anger the other even more as each time she looks at you she rolls her eyes. When the bill comes you pay without hesitation and tip the waitress way more than was asked as an apology for the tense table she had to keep coming back to.

While you wait outside for the attendant to bring back your car Dani stands far enough away from you that another person could have stood between you two comfortably. And when you hold the door open for her once more she doesn’t thank you, even slamming the door before you can close it for her.

Before you get in you take a second to breathe to calm yourself a bit, getting in the car it amazes how the air genuinely feels cold too. It takes a few minutes for her to start talking and when she does your body reacts immediately by leaning in towards her.

“Do you know how low I felt after you broke up with me? I doubted myself because of you and for you to have the nerve to just tell me that you just said it because of your insecurities? I can’t believe you, I knew this trip was a mistake. I knew trusting you once more was a mistake.”

Your heart breaks at her words and you can feel your eyes well up with tears. You don’t respond, not being able to due to the lump in your throat.

The silence sticks as you get to the hotel and that night you both go to sleep without a word. The next day isn’t any better as you both get ready without a word, and when you buy breakfast for her she takes it without giving you another glance.

You guys sit at a bench in a plaza when you try to talk to her. “Dani-” She cuts you off before you can finish.

“Don’t. Not now.”

You nod your head deciding to respect her wishes. When another hour passes she speaks, though she sounds cold. “When is your friend coming?”

You furrow your brows when you realize you have no idea. “I don’t know…hold on I’ll be right back.” You stand and walk over to the side as you call Yoonchae.

“You have a lot of nerve.”

“Not now. I’ve been waiting where you said Lara would be for about an hour and not a single sight of her.”

“Huh? That can’t be.” You hear her chair roll and the familiar sound of typing. You look around as you wait, seeing if you can possibly spot her. Yoonchae gains your attention once more when she curses. “Okay, don’t be mad. But she’s actually in Miami.”

You groan as you pinch your nose bridge. “How did you fuck that up?”

“Listen, you asked me to do research after a stack of pancakes I was tired and made a mistake! Look on the bright side at least you get to see Daniela in a bikini.” You hang up her after she says that and make your way back to Daniela.

“Looks like we’re going to Miami.” She raises an eyebrow as she looks at you.

“Why?”

“Yoonchae made a mistake.” That seems to be enough for her as she stands and heads to your car.

The trip to Miami was the worst one yet, between Daniela’s cold shoulder, your head hurting and the long drive you couldn’t wait for it to end.

You’re lucky enough to book an oceanfront room right on the strip of Miami beach, which seems to be the one thing you did right these past few days in Daniela’s eyes.

“When are you meeting your friend?” She says to you as she comes back from the balcony where she was taking pictures.

“Yoonchae says she should be in this plaza at around noon.” You show her the plaza Yoonchae sent you and she takes a glance before looking back at her phone. You sigh as you accept this will probably be how the rest of the trip will be.

At noon the next day you find yourselves at another plaza, this one more filled. The Florida sun burns at your skin as you and Daniela wait.

When you see Lara you stand abruptly, leaving Daniela without a word. Following her into the crowd you call for the red head.

Lara turns and is tense, when she spots you her gaze immediately hardens as she stomps towards you. “What is your fucking problem?”

You sigh softly as she grips you with one hand, the other holding her drink. “Let’s talk.” She scoffs as she lets you go and shoves you.

“Talk?” She pushes you again. “Fucking talk? Why the fuck would I ever talk to you?”

“I want to apologize.” She scoffs when she hears this and starts to back up. When you reach for her she snatches her arm away, almost as if even the thought of you touching her burns her. Your hands shake slightly as they stay in the air and you know what you have to do.

Dropping to your knees you let your head hang. You know she’s still there as her shoes are still visible in front of you.

The first drop of her drink surprises you, but you don’t move nor look up as she continues to spill her drink on you. When she throws her cup at you Daniela steps in. “Alright, that’s enough.”

But Lara doesn’t pay her any mind. “You think this sorry ass apology is enough? If you’re really sorry you’d just die.” The world goes mute after this. You’re sure Daniela responds to her but you can’t hear her. After a few moments, or at least it feels like a few moments you begin to laugh.

You didn’t mean to, but once you start you can’t stop. You know you’re a sight to see, covered in some drink while laughing like crazy.

When you finally stop you look up, huffing out with a smile you begin to nod. “Alright. If that’s what you want.” Lara looks at you in disbelief as Daniela grabs you.

“Let’s go.” You let her drag you away to some unknown place where she pushes you to sit down. “I’ll be right back.” You don’t acknowledge her, too deep in your own thoughts. When she leaves you the tears start to fall, the exhaustion of reality weighing heavily on you.

You were dying. You were really dying. And what’s worse is some people want you to. You were such a horrible person that some people truly want you dead.

Your throat hurts from how hard you’re sobbing and when Daniela comes back she holds you. Her touch makes you uncomfortable, you don’t deserve her gentleness, not when you’re this terrible of a person. When you finally run out of tears she pulls away from you, and red rises to your cheeks when you see you’ve dirtied her shirt.

“You feeling better?” You nod and she smiles. “Good, I’m going to try and clean you up now, alright?” You nod once more and Dani starts to use the napkins she had gotten from a nearby store. As she cleans you up she speaks, her voice soft. “I’m sorry she was that mean to you. No matter what you had done to her, you didn’t deserve this.”

You don’t respond which causes her to sigh as she continues to try and clean you up. When she notices that her clean up job won’t get any better with what she has, she looks at you. “Are you okay to move? I don’t think I can do much more.” She says this with a bit of laughter.

“Yeah.” You finally speak, your voice meek and rough.

“I’ll drive us back.” She holds her hand up for your keys and you give it to her. When you get to the car she places her hoodie on the passenger seat so you don’t ruin your seats and you thank her.

When you guys get back it’s like you’re a shell of a person. You shower, change, and lay in bed where you don’t move for hours. It concerns Daniela but she knew there was nothing she could do for you except be there.

You don’t move until early the next morning, where you sit on the balcony taking in the sound of the waves. You sit there as the sun rises, and watch as surfers come and go. And when the sun fully comes into the sky you watch as crowds of people begin to set up across the beach.

Daniela joins you and takes the seat next to you. “It’s pretty out here.” She says, her voice catching on the wind.

“You should’ve seen the sunrise.” You tell her.

“Are you feeling better?”

And though you don't, you refuse to hinder her anymore. “Yeah.” You take a pause to exhale softly. “I’m going to take you back to LA. You can keep the money, I won’t bother you anymore.”

She stares at you and it burns your skin, but you keep watching the ocean. “No.” She says and it shocks you, making your body twitch slightly. “I don’t want to. You said you’re going to make it up to me with this trip and that’s what you’ll do.”

You finally turn away from the ocean and turn to her. Your eyes trace her face to see if she’s being serious, not seeing any you nod slowly. “Alright.”

She breathes out slowly in relief. “Now can we go inside, it’s hot and I need a shower.”

You laugh and nod. You sit at the desk as you wait for her, searching for an activity you both can do when you get a call from Yoonchae.

“If you’re here to compl-”

She cuts you off immediately. “We have an emergency.”

Your heart drops as you sit up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s the auditions. They’re moving it up to next week.”

“What? Why would they do that? That makes no sense.”

“I know. I just thought you should know, I gotta go Giselle about to curse me out for being up so early. Love you!”

You tell her you love her back before hanging up. You feel yourself begin to panic, but remember that you have to tell Daniela.

“Dani!” You yell as you stand, before you can call for her again you see blood fall on the desk. Bringing your hand up to your nose you wipe away blood and the room starts to spin. Trying to move you stumble and feel like the air has been sucked out of you. You try to call for Dani again but it comes out meek. As your vision starts to blur you see Dani come out of the bathroom and the last thing you see is the look of horror before the world goes black.

Daniela’s leg shakes as she rubs at her head. She perks up when the door opens but laxes when she sees it’s just Yoonchae. Handing her a cup of coffee she takes a seat next to her.

“No one has come yet?” The younger asks and Daniela shakes her head. Yoonchae huffs in displeasure, but Dani doesn’t pay her any mind.

It’s been two days since you’ve collapsed and you still haven’t woken up. Daniela’s ears perk up slightly when she hears Yoonchae move and watches her warily as she stands to check the wires attached to you. The younger had flown in the day before and had yet to have settled down. Though it drove the older slightly insane she let the younger be as she knew it was a way for her to distract herself. It was clear to her immediately that Yoonchae was trying to put on a strong front, to seem almost as if she was unaffected, but Daniela could see the fear in her.

She could see the way her eyes would get glossy when she stared at you for too long, or how she would hesitate to even say your name.

Daniela understood why, she herself cared for you greatly, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she always would care for you and if she was this devastated she can only imagine what it was like for Yoonchae. To the younger you were her entire world, and now there was a threat to that.

It takes another two hours for the doctor to finally make an appearance. She walks in with a polite smile and closes the door behind her quietly, almost as if not to wake you.

“My apologies for the long wait, the hospital is severely understaffed and I had to scrub up for a couple surgeries and then of course our systems were down for a bit.” She trails off for a bit, waving her hand when she sees the slight disinterest from the two. “But you don’t want to hear about my woes. Let me take a look at what we’re dealing with.” She walks over to the board at the end of your bed.

Daniela watches the doctor’s face, tensing when she sees sorrow fill her features. The doctor inhales and holds it in her chest for a bit, seemingly thinking of her next words.

She exhales before she starts. “Umm..” She pauses. “How long did your friend say she has?”

“Sorry?”

“My apologies. I mean her first estimation.” At the look of confusion she clears her throat. “Do you not know?”

Yoonchae shakes her head, answering for the both of them and Daniela watches as the doctor’s breath hitches.

“Oh dear.” She mutters. “If you will just give me a moment.” She says leaving the room.

Yoonchae turns to Daniela, fear evident in her eyes. “What do you think she means?” The older chews at her bottom lip and shrugs, panic filling her so deeply she couldn’t answer. She can tell Yoonchae wants to ask more but the doctor comes back, interrupting her before she can.

A manila folder is now in her hands and Daniela feels her heart drop. The woman places the folder on the small table by your bed and pulls out a piece of paper. When she flips it around a photocopy of an x-ray is on it.

The two lean forward slightly, confusion clear on their faces.

“This is a photocopy of an x-ray of your friend’s brain. Do you see these circles? These are your friend’s brain cells clumping together, about a month ago there were eight, the scan we had done today shows the growth has started to accelerate, now leading to there being thirteen of these masses.”

Daniela feels lightheaded. “So what does this mean?” Her throat is tight as she speaks and nausea starts to settle in.

“It means that when these cells get too tangled, they will burst and your friend will…” She trails off, but she didn’t have to say the words the two understood what this meant.

“How long?” Yoonchae’s voice breaks at the end and it makes Daniela want to sob.

“If she wakes up she’d be very lucky to see the end of the month.” She pauses to reach back towards the mini desk, lifting the folder she lifts up a pamphlet, handing it to Daniela. “I’d start looking into end of life programs, whether it be here or back at home. I’m truly sorry.” She picks up the folder once more and leaves the room as if she didn’t just ruin their lives with her words.

The silence is almost unbearable, the only sound between them being the steady beeping of your heart machine. Yoonchae breaks first, a terrible sob escaping her. The sound so horrible Daniela has to look away as tears escape her.

She wishes she could comfort her, but she can’t move, sobs wracking through her keeping her stuck. But in some way, it’s comforting, knowing they are both mourning a loss that has not yet occurred.

The following days are terrible, with each moment you don’t wake up the worst everything seems to feel. Yoonchae has become a shell of herself only moving when she had to. Dani tries to get her to eat, knowing you’d kill her if you didn’t at least try to be there for her. So Dani tries to be strong, or at least appear strong. Truthfully she’s struggling, in the moments where she is by herself her thoughts are the only thing to accompany her. She finds they often lead to “what ifs,” her least favorite being the ones that wondered about that past. Wondered what life would be like if you both didn’t break up, if your insecurities hadn’t scared you from her.

She knows not much would be different, a sickness would still take you from her, and she’d still be hurting this terribly. The truth is Dani still loved you, and probably would love you until she died. She wasn’t stupid, she felt her feelings reignite, how could she not have been caring to her during this trip, even when she was cold to you you had been kind, and well forced proximity really works.

But it seemed like all that wouldn’t matter since you were…Dani shakes her head, refusing to think of it.

She wets the rag the hospital gave to her and wipes your neck gently, humming a song as she attempts to clean you.

“You always loved this song.” Your voice is hoarse and scares her slightly from the sudden interruption. It takes her a few moments to comprehend that you’re awake now. You smile at her, or as much you can and it’s enough for her to jump on.

“Sorry! Sorry!” She exclaims when you groan, jumping up from the bed.

“It’s okay.” You tell her though it’s rasped, and she can feel her eyes start to water. Your eyes soften, concern apparent in them. “Are you alright?”

Dani nods, though tears stream down her face. “I’m just really happy.”

You chuckle softly, before wincing. “Is it too much to ask for some water?” Daniela quickly shakes her head before leaving the room to go ask for some water and a nurse. When she steps out she bumps into Yoonchae, who looks at her confused. She doesn’t bother saying anything, she just smiles, squeezes her shoulder, and walks away.

You look up when you hear the door open again, shocked when you see Yoonchae.

“Chip…” Your words open the floodgate and she begins to cry. “Come here.” You open up your arms, but the younger doesn’t move and as you take a longer look you see the anger on her face.

“You lied!” She begins. “You told me I had nothing to worry about, but you already knew!”

You grip the blanket that covers you tightly as you swallow roughly, the dryness of your throat causing sharp pains. “I’m sorry.”

But the words do little to comfort her. “When were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to disappear from my life?” She yells roughly at you, her voice cracking slightly due to her sobs and you can’t do much but look at your down in shame. “Answer me!”

You don’t look up. “I’m sorry.” Your answer clearly isn’t the right one as she huffs shakily and yanks open the door. You hear Daniela yelp in surprise as Yoonchae passes her.

The blonde places the water on your bedside table. “What was that about?”

You look up with a frown. “She’s mad I didn’t tell her.” Daniela nods slowly in understanding, it was a sentiment she related to when she first found out, but your awakening deferred any remnants of anger she had.

“I’ll go look for her, just relax. The doctor should be coming in soon, okay?”

You thank her and watch as she leaves the room. It doesn’t take too long after for the doctor to arrive. “Glad to see you’re awake.” She waits for a response but when you don’t move she knows she won’t get one yet. “You may feel some pain in your throat for a bit but that is completely normal. Do you have any questions for me?”

“How much longer do I have?” The question shocks her but she doesn’t let it show.

“Not much longer. A couple weeks at most.”

You nod slowly before bringing your hands up to your face, dragging them roughly down it. Removing your hands you look at her. “When is the earliest I can be discharged?”

This time she can’t hide the shock as her eyes widen. “Uhh…tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

The doctor offers you a somber smile before patting your leg gently. “Get some rest for now.” You let your head fall back against the mattress, grateful that Daniela had repositioned the bed earlier. Sighing, exhaustion crashes like waves through your body. You grab the cup of water on your table and take a sip, wincing as the coolness causes a sharp pain in your throat.

You’re more thirsty than you know as you down a cup and pour yourself another. You stop at two though as the pain in your throat becomes too much. When you place the cup down the door opens and you immediately turn to look. You deflate slightly when only Dani walks in, which she notices.

“Is she okay?” You ask when Daniela sits in one of the chairs by your bed.

“Yeah, she’s just mad.” She places a hand atop of yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “Give her some time. Did the doctor come in?”

You nod as you move your hand to grip hers softly. “She said I can be discharged tomorrow.”

“She did?” It’s clear she has some doubts, but ignores it as you nod once more. She sighs and rubs your hand again. “Alright, I guess I’ll book our flights back to LA.”

Her words cause you to pop your head up. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

You look around the room for your phone. “What day is it?”

Daniela’s eyebrows furrow in concern and confusion. “Tuesday. Why? What’s wrong?” You pause momentarily at her words, were you really gone for that long? Shaking your head you turn to her.

“We can’t go back to LA, we have to be in New York by Saturday.” She sighs before leaning in to get closer to you. Cupping your face gently she turns you slowly so you can look at her.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t worry about it. You don’t owe me anything anymore, I forgive you. Let’s just go back home so you can rest.”

You bring your hand up to grab hers. “Please.” You can see the hesitation on her face. You squeeze her hand lightly to reassure her, and you know you’ve won when she sighs.

“Fine. But I’m driving and the moment you show signs of sickness we’re going home.” Smiling, you nod excitedly.

“I’m coming with you guys.” You both jump at the new voice and turn around, Daniela pulling her hand from you at the sight of Yoonchae. The youngest stands by the door eyeing you two but doesn’t comment on it as she goes to sit in the chair next to the latina.

“Of course.” You tell her a bit too quickly causing her to glare at you.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you. But…I understand cause I would do the same. Maybe not all this traveling, but I would keep it to myself to not worry you. So while I’m super mad at you, I also understand you and I won’t let me being angry make it so I’m potentially not there when you…” She trails off, refusing to say the word, but the way she swallows harshly you know what she means. You lean towards her, grabbing her hand in means of comforting.

“I’m glad you’re coming with us. I like it better this way.” And Dani quickly agrees which causes a small smile to make its way onto Yoonchae’s face. She shakes her head and pulls her hand away from you.

“Anyways, New York is quite far, huh?”

“Very.” Dani says.

“Well good thing I love a good road trip!”

“Oh thank god!” Yoonchae exclaims as she jumps out of the car. “I cannot be in that car anymore.”

“I thought you love road trips?” You ask as you slam the car door shut behind you, amusement clear in your voice.

“That wasn’t a road trip, that was eighteen hours of straight hell.”

“Yeah maybe because you have the patience of a two year old.” Daniela says as she comes around the car. “Now come help me with the bags.” She turns to you, her features softening. “Can you check us in?”

“Yeah, I got it.” You walk up the stairs and into the hotel. Checking in was quite fast and when you head back outside you see Yoonchae sitting on your suitcase. You shake your head and turn to Daniela. “We’re all good to go.” She nods and lifts your bag up, when she looks at Yoonchae the younger groans and stands up.

“I talked to Giselle by the way, she is going to send some of your clothes over here so you don't have to worry about that stuff.” However, at your words Yoonchae groans again to your confusion.

“Don’t even mention that woman’s name to me.” You laugh at her words and it makes Yoonchae glare at you as you guys walk into the elevator. “You’re laughing but she legit tortured me.”

“How so?” Daniela asks with real concern.

“By being so boring that I genuinely wanted to die.” She freezes at the word and looks at you quickly. “Sorry.”

You wave her off and shake your head with a smile. “You know you hate her for being boring, but she seemed to have kept you safe.”

“Yeah because everything was deemed a threat to her, like literally everything. You know I once offered her a lollipop and she said things like that lead to cavities and can ruin my teeth permanently and shouldn’t be eaten so casually.” You look away to hide your laughter and walk out the elevator when it reaches your floor, Yoonchae dragging your suitcase with huff as Daniela follows behind her with an amused smile.

“Where’d you even find her?” The youngest asks as you guys approach the door.

“A blind date if you could believe it.” You open the door and step to the side holding it open for the other two. “We realized we were incompatible.”

“AKA she was too serious and you were bored out of your mind.” Yoonchae says as she places your suitcase against the wall. Daniela places the other bags next to the suitcase and goes back near the door.

“I gotta go move the car and bring my suitcase up. While I’m gone you guys choose dinner?”

“No need, I already decided we will eat pizza!” Yoonchae exclaims as she jumps on one of the beds and when Daniela looks at you you simply nod in agreement. “Alright then, I’ll be back.” When the door shuts behind her you go to sit next to Yoonchae who is sighing happily. “Hey.” Yoonchae pops her head up and raises a brow. “Can we talk?” The younger nods and sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed to sit next to you. You inhale lightly before speaking.

“How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that.” You tilt your head to the side and Yoonchae sighs. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” And Yoonchae shrugs at the question.

“I guess, I mean I’m as okay as I can be.” You nod and before you can speak again she starts. “What are we going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

She purses her lips, rubbing her hand slightly against her sweatpants. “Do you think Dani can pass the auditions?” She questions this time and you nod. “Then if she gets chosen, what do we do?”

“Go back to LA.” But the answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Yoonchae as she frowns.

“And what about when you?...Well, you know.” You nod slowly as you realize what the real question Yoonchae is asking.

“Well, when I die.” The reference to your future causes the girl to flinch and you rest a hand on her now fidgeting one. “You will continue the business while attending college where you will find a girl that will make you want to quit the business all together and live a happy life. And in the future if you decide to have a kid, whether fur or human, you will tell them about their awesome aunt that went away for a while because she was just too great to have forever.” You pout as you see Yoonchae’s eyes start to shine due to unshed tears. You pull her into a hug and feel your shoulder start to get wet as she begins to cry. “Most importantly you’ll be okay, it will hurt at first but you’ll be okay.” You pull away from her and see tears streaming down her face, and you are brought back to when you had first met her. Bringing a hand up, you wipe some tears away. “It’ll be okay, Chip, I promise. Now let’s not worry about the future, no matter how close or far it is. Let’s focus on now, the present, where I am here, okay, with you.”

She nods and you pull her back into a hug. And as you two sat there, holding each other, you didn’t know that there was someone else who had heard you two.

“Can you please sit down, you’re driving me insane.” Yoonchae says as you pace back and forth in the waiting room.

“I can’t help it, I’m nervous.”

“I don’t know why you know Dani is going to get it.” You sigh at her words, nodding reluctantly as you take the seat next to Yoonchae.

“Didn’t Dani seem off to you this morning?”

“Yeah probably cause you told her she was going to audition for a tour of nowhere. Now relax.”

You huff as you lean back in the seat. “Whatever.”

“Hey.” You both look up. “Is that seat taken?” The new girl points towards the empty seat on the other side of Yoonchae. When Yoonchae doesn’t respond you shake your head. “No.”

The mystery girl nods and takes a seat and you watch as the younger girl stiffens. The orange girl leans forward slightly to see you. “I’m Megan.” She puts her hand out and you shake it, when she puts her hand in front of Yoonchae the younger grabs it weakly and barely shakes it causing you to eye her weirdly.

“I’m Y/N and this is Yoonchae.” You answer for the two of you since the other seemed frozen. Megan smiles widely at you two and you see Yoonchae’s breath catch.

“Are you guys from around here?” Megan asks and you shake your head.

“No, we’re from LA.”

“LA?” Megan yells and you jump. “My bad.” She apologizes quickly, looking very sheepish. “Wanted a change of scenery? I can’t imagine there is a lack of auditions in LA.”

You chuckle and nod. “You can say that. Are you from here?”

“No, I’m actually from further up north, I just moved here recently cause I’m going to college here in the fall.”

“Oh?” You ask with genuine curiosity. “Which college?”

“NYU.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you nod to show you’re impressed. But before you can compliment her Yoonchae speaks for the first time.

“I am too!” Her response causes both you and Megan to look at her, though with two different reasons. You stare at her in confusion while Megan looks happy.

“You are?” Megan asks. “That’s so cool, what are you studying?”

Yoonchae swallows roughly as she thinks. “Umm…computer science.”

“Oo, that’s so cool. I’m going for biochem. Hey, let’s exchange numbers so we can hang, maybe we can even dorm together!”

You hold back laughter as Yoonchae nods a little bit too enthusiastically. When she almost drops her phone you almost crack, but are able to hold it in. An older woman steps out of the audition room with a clipboard in her hand.

“The next five people we are seeing are 2416, 2419, 2435, 2444, and 2452.” She then turns around and walks back into the room. Megan stands with a wide smile.

“That’s me, I’ll text you later?” Yoonchae nods quickly and Megan waves goodbye as she enters the room.

“So…I didn’t know you got into NYU?” You ask when you turn to Yoonchae and she groans.

“Shut up.”

You laugh and she starts to hit you. You both pause when someone stands in front of you. When you guys realize it’s Dani you both stand.

“Hey.” She says casually, but you don’t let it distract you.

“What happened? Did you get it?”

Daniela pauses before nodding. “I did.”

You and Yoonchae immediately start celebrating, pulling her into a hug, but Daniela doesn’t move. She pulls away from you two and looks at you guys seriously. “I’m not taking it.” You and Yoonchae stop celebrating, looking at her confused and shocked.

“What? Why not?” You ask.

“Because I don’t want to spend whatever time you have left traveling without you. I’d rather stay with you and Yoonchae.” You look at her in shock before slowly nodding.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well.” You wrap an arm around her and Yoonchae and start heading towards the exit. “How you feel about moving to New York?”

She looks at you confused. “New York?”

“Yup apparently Yoonchae got accepted to NYU.”

Yoonchae groans loudly and you laugh.

3 months later

Your eyes flutter open, wincing slightly when the sun shines in your eyes. When your eyes finally adjust you sigh happily at the sight of snow.

The move to New York wasn’t the easiest, especially with Yoonchae attending college, and having to adapt to the drastically different weathers the east had experienced. But you loved it, especially when it snowed.

You sighed going to shift, but pausing when you felt the familiar weight on your chest. Smiling, you lift your hand and run your fingers through the curly hair.

You and Dani were inevitable, once back in LA to pack up your places, you had sat down and talked both coming to realization you still loved each other and wanted to be together for however long you had left.

None of you had expected you to make it past the end of the month, but now, three months later, you and Dani couldn’t be happier.

You gently push her off of you and get out of bed, pausing when she shifts in her sleep. When she seemingly settles you cover her with the rest of your blanket and get ready for the day.

The pan sizzles softly as you place butter in it. Grabbing the bowl next to you you pour some batter into the pan. You wait until the side facing up begins to have bubbles before flipping it over. As you wait for the pancake to finish you feel hands wrap around you.

Dani exhales against your neck as her cold hands ease their way into your shirt. You yelp as the cold shocks you but she just shushes you.

“You weren’t in bed.” Her voice is riddled with sleep and has a rare deepness in it that runs chills down your spine.

You hum softly in response. “Making us breakfast.” You mutter out, as you remove the pancake from the pan and start another. She doesn’t respond as she pulls you impossibly closer and attempts to nuzzle her face deeper into your neck. You finish just like that, the only sounds coming from the snow hitting the window and the pan sizzling.

Dani refuses to separate from you even when you place a plate at the seat she usually does. Sighing softly you turn around and hug her, resting your head on hers.

“You okay?” You ask her lowly, not wanting to interrupt the peaceful atmosphere. She nods against you and lays a small kiss on the base of your neck before pulling away and sitting down. Her eyebrows furrow as you head back to the kitchen and come back with two more plates.

“Who are those for?” She asks.

“Who do you think?” You ask back playfully. As if timed you hear a knock on the door and go to open it. When you come back this time you’re no longer alone.

“Good morning!” Megan yells and Dani winces.

“Babe.” Yoonchae starts. “Dani isn’t a morning person, remember?”

The girl smiles sheepishly before apologizing and taking a seat in front of Daniela. You sit next to the blonde as Yoonchae goes to sit across from you.

You guys start to eat without another word. Once the first month had passed and you seemed to be getting better Yoonchae demanded you meet up daily, just in case something were to happen.

“Got any plans today?” You ask before taking another bite of your food.

“Class.” Yoonchae answers, her mouth full of food, but before you could scold her the girl beside her does it for you. “Sorry.” She says, her cheeks red in embarrassment.

“Do you guys have any plans?” Megan asks.

You shake your head slightly. “No, Dani has rehearsal later. So probably just finishing this show we’ve been binge watching.”

“Well actually,” Dani speaks for the first time. “Rehearsal was cancelled for today, so we can do anything.”

“Really?” You pause to think. “How about we go sledding?”

Dani perks up and nods excitedly.

“I wish we could go.” Megan pouts. “However, I know this really secret place you guys could go to. Discovered it when I first moved here, no one seems to know about it, I can send you the details later if you’d like.”

“That’d be great!”

When breakfast finishes the two college students leave, not after Yoonchae makes sure to remind you that she loves you which you assure her that you know and you love her too. And when Megan sends you the instructions on how to get to the place you and Dani get dressed and leave.

The heater blows loudly in the Jeep and Dani plays softly with your right hand. “How are you feeling?” She asks you. It was a question you were used to her and Yoonchae asking due to an underlying fear they have had since the moment they found out about your condition.

You bring her hand up to your lips and press a kiss softly to the back of it. “I’m okay.” She sighs softly and nods. You can feel a slight somberness fill the air and frown. “Hey, let’s worry about how I’m going to beat you in every race today.” That seems to be enough for Daniela's mind to shift.

“Yeah alright.” She pauses in thought. “Wanna make a bet?”

“I’m listening.”

“Whoever loses has to do the house chores for the next month.”

“Oh you’re on.”

When you guys arrive at the spot you are happy to see there are no other cars in the small parking lot. Going to the trunk you pull out two sleds, handing one to Daniela when she comes to your side.

With a sled in both of your hands you head start to head down the trail to the small slope Megan said would be there. The walk is a bit difficult due to the thickness of the snow, but you guys are in no rush so you don’t mind. Walking past a few trees you come to an opening where the snow is untouched and some tall plants pop up out of the ground.

Inhaling the cold air you close your eyes slightly, enjoying the cold biting at your cheeks. You open your eyes when Dani bumps you with her shoulder.

“You ready to get destroyed?” And when you nod she pushes you into the snow making you laugh in disbelief as she sleds down the small hill.

After a few races, with her taking victory, you both lay side by side at the end of the slope, snow wetting your hats and making chills run through you both. You don’t mind it though as you take in the blue of the sky.

“Hey.” She calls and you turn your head to look at her. “You think we can find a four leaf clover here?”

You sit up and look at her confused. “What?”

She raises her hand and in her gloved hand you see a clover. “So?” And that’s all it takes for you both to pop up, running opposite ways to be the first to find the clover.

You take off your gloves and stuff them in your pocket when you realize your hands are getting wet anyways. Brushing some snow back you find the layer of clovers, plucking some you sigh when you come up empty. Moving to another spot you do the same, only this time freezing when you find it. Plucking it you lift it up, laughing in disbelief at your find.

“Dani!” You exclaim, though you’re not too sure if she heard you as you look down again only this time your heart drops.

You feel the familiar feeling of wetness flow down your face, and on your hand you see red. Bringing your hand up you wipe at your nose in disbelief and when you pull it away to look you see blood. You let out a shaky breath as you stagger, your head throbbing in pure pain. When you try to walk you stumble, falling to the ground, and a gust of wind blows away the clover.

You can tell immediately that this is it. Death has found you finally and you’re terrified.

Your hand shakes as your vision goes blurry, sharp pains fill in your brain. Each breath you take is choked as you struggle, your chest staggering.

You lose feeling in your hands first, no longer do you feel the numbness of the cold. A tear runs down your face as you start to beg, though you are not sure to who. The sky is a flawless blue, the only white coming from a jet flying through the sky, but you are not at peace as you sob.

“Please.” You say, though it comes out low and barely even whole. Your life starts to flash in front of your eyes as your heart starts to slow and you try to push it away. But as your vision begins to blacken you know there is nothing you can do.

You hear Daniela screaming for you in the small moments of clarity you have and you use every bit of strength you have left to turn your head towards her. As your vision begins to flash in and out you see her running towards you, stumbling as she screams. You want to go to her. You want to get up and tell her you were just joking, and then call Yoonchae to tell her about the amazing prank you had just pulled. But you can’t.

Your vision darkens longer this time, almost as if you closed your eyes, but you know you didn’t. At least you think you didn’t, your body is no longer yours to control as your eyes feel heavy and the rest of you feels missing.

When you can see once more you see Dani is in front of you and she’s sobbing, you so badly want to tell her it’s okay, but no words leave your mouth. She picks up your hand and puts it on her cheek, and you wish you could feel her warmth one last time. Your eyes shut once more, and when you open them again you know it will be the last time that you do.

You see Dani speaking, but your hearing is long gone, as terrible silence fills you now. With one last look at her you try to convey that it’ll be okay, that you love her and Yoonchae. You watch her press a kiss to your palm before the darkness takes over you.

[astarioffsimpmain]

The Sun-Walker's Illusion

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Author's Note: Here you are, @yennefer-of-vengerbergs!!! I maaaay have gotten a bit carried away with this idea and it morphed into a whole fic. 😅 I hope you enjoy it, my dear! <3

♡♡♡

In the time following your victory over the Elder Brain, you and Astarion had taken to the road, on the search for something that would allow him to greet the sun every day, his only remaining grievance from choosing to stay a spawn. Months had passed and leads were scarce; whispers of a ring that could do the job flitted from reality to fiction depending on who you asked, and not even those who believed it to be real knew where to begin searching for it. His hope was waning. You could see it in the deepening lines on his face and the circles darkening around his eyes. You did your best to comfort him, holding him close each night, reminding him of how much he was loved, and seeking to spend time doing activities with him that had nothing to do with their search.

And yet, despite his persistent attempts to convince you otherwise, his disposition had taken on a somber undercurrent. You knew something had to be done, but what? You couldn't magically conjure this ring that may or may not be fictitious in nature with the snap of your fingers. If you could, well, you would have never ended up in this position to start. You kept a journal, logging all of your adventures with your lover. He didn't know it yet, but it would be his gift at the end of your - hopefully - very long life with him. You were not immortal, and with Astarion remaining a spawn, there was no foolproof way to make you one. He teased you about the journal right now, but you knew he would eventually cherish it. You had begun a list of options on the very back page of things you could do to cheer your darling up.

𝑅𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎

𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

𝐵𝓊𝓎 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒾𝓁𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓅 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈

You had begun doing these things on a far more regular basis in the hopes that he would eventually open up and talk to you about his struggle, and while he seemed to enjoy each action of love - as well as your patience in not prying - , he remained stoic in his efforts to conceal it from you. You had talked about it - of course you had. But he wasn't ready to admit it yet, and you couldn't bear the thought of forcing him. So you waited, trying your best to love him through it. You stared at the blank space next to the last bullet point, willing a solution to appear; something to ease the stagnation and ache your lover was feeling.

You glanced out the window of your shared room at the Hondakar's House in Elturel - a luxury you could afford, being the heroes of Baldur's Gate - and watched the fireflies dance in the evening sky. The warming weather had come as a blessing in the last couple of weeks, bringing a breath of new life into the city. Astarion had once told you how he hated flowers, but you hadn't missed the way his eyes flicked over the ones blooming in the parks and gardens, even in the pale glow of the moonlight. Suddenly, like the gust blowing in from the harbor, you knew what you needed to do.

~ ~ ~

"Don't you touch that cloth, Astarion," you chastised, reaching up to return the blindfold over his bright red eyes.

"Oh, darling, won't you just tell me?" he whined, ever the impatient one.

"Absolutely not. It is a surprise for a reason. You'll find out when we're there."

"Ugh. Very well then, lead the way."

"You'd fall on your face if I didn't."

"...Arse."

Despite his restless protestations, the clearing was not far away from the inn, and you arrived by a mere short stroll. You took a deep breath, glancing around at the preparations you had made, your eyes raking over each detail to be sure everything was still perfect. "Alright," you said at last. "I'm going to take off the blindfold now. Are you ready?"

"Darling, I was ready 10 minutes ago."

"We hadn't even left the inn 10 minutes ago."

"Precisely."

"Alright, alright," you laughed, his snark never failing to put a smile on your face, and his fangy smile in return proved that that had been his intention all along. When the blindfold came off and his beautiful ruby eyes batted open, they widened in surprise almost immediately.

"My love," he murmured breathlessly, his gaze never straying from the air above the clearing. A glass orb hung from a tree branch overhead. Light cascaded out of it in yellow and orange rays, brilliant in their intensity, bringing the trees around them to life; inside, a gemstone imbued with a spell of Daylight - completely harmless to vampires and spawn alike. A small table with a set of chairs sat in the corner, hosting a bottle of vintage wine and two glasses "borrowed" from the Hondakar's kitchen on either side.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed and silent as you produced an empty bottle from your bag. "I figured I could add some of my blood to your wine to make it taste better, but I know you prefer it fresh, so..." You trailed off sheepishly, Astarion's silence stirring confusion in you about whether or not you had done the right thing. But when his finger pressed gently into the underside of your chin, bringing your face up to greet him, his lips met yours. The kiss was soft, tender, unhurried. It felt like hope. When there was space between you again, he gazed at you, unguarded, with light reflected in his eyes.

"What is all this, little love?" he asked quietly, almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

"You've been so down," you whispered, averting your eyes. "I've been worried about you."

When he huffed a short laugh, your eyes flicked back up to his face, so perfectly showcased in the light. He was no longer looking at you, but off somewhere in the distance to his left. "I-" he paused; another huff. "It sounds so incredibly foolish now that I plan to say it aloud, but... I have been... well, I've felt as though I've disappointed you."

"What?!" You were horrified. How could you have given him an impression like that?

"Now before you derail in that little head of yours, just shush for a moment," he said, a finger coming up to boop you on the nose. "I... essentially upended your life. You had a life in the sun to live, family to return to. But I'm bound by this endless darkness." His voice took on an edge that you hadn't heard in awhile. It seems hardly fair to ask you to be my only sun." The ache in his voice hurt your heart, and you were pulling him close before your mind could even catch up. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you held him to you, as though you could love all of his broken pieces back together.

"I have never once doubted my decision to come with you," you said resolutely. "The sun means nothing to me if you are not beside me when I am under it."

He pulled back, but only far enough to capture your lips with his own once more, pressing closer to you beneath the makeshift sun you had created. "My dear," he murmured quietly against your mouth. "I do love you, ever so much."

~

fin

[perpetuallyburntout]

S4!Five Hargreeves x Reader

Strawberry Blonde - Mitski

‼️SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON FOUR OF UMBRELLA ACADEMY BELOW THE CUT‼️

Okay so I know I wasn’t the only person absolutely crushed by season four of Umbrella Academy, but in the middle of grieving over it, I had the best/worst idea. Technically a fanfic idea, but I don’t know if I have the commitment to write the whole thing, so if someone else would like to, by all means :)

The events of season four start six years after the end of season three. Six years of (mostly) peace. Let’s just say Five met someone in that time (for the sake of making sense, I’ll refer to them as Lover). Met someone he found himself falling for. And they fell for him, too. And it was perfect. And for the first time in a painfully long time, Five was happy. Content. He had his suspicions about how long this peace would last, but… for now, things were good. More than good, they were wonderful. He’d met the love of his life.

And then the events of season four begin to happen. And Lover is there with the group the whole time. At this point, they’re family, too. They want to help, and Five wants them to stay close to him.

Until he and Lila decide to go on their own on the subway, leaving Lover with the others. And in the seven years Five and Lila are stuck together, the same thing happens. And when they finally return, Lover knows something is off. And when the truth comes out, their whole world comes crashing down.

Diego grows angry. Lover just grows somber. It’s even worse, because when they look at Five again, his expression is different. The aching love that used to shine in his eyes whenever he looked at them… it’s dulled to something faint. Still there, deep down, but… unsure. As if he’s questioning himself. Questioning what he should do now. Who he’d pick if given the choice.

Of course, he’s not given the choice. Not even the choice to take Lover far away and talk to them and really explain and try to do something. No, no… the world’s ending. For the final time. And he knows how to make sure it never comes to an end ever again.

Lover’s there for the entire conversation. Every bit of grief and anger they’d felt towards Five suddenly melts away, replaced by desperation. They’d let the world end for the rest of eternity if… if it meant maybe things could be different. If it meant maybe he’d love them, and maybe he’d never love anyone else besides them.

They’re eventually forced to leave with Lila’s family and get on the subway. And while everyone else is confused and emotional, they’re curled on the ground, gasping and sobbing, knowing what this means.

And the Hargreeves stop the world from ending. And all the timelines reset. And everyone else in the world gets their happy ending.

And Lover thinks they’re happy. They do. But they never fall in love again. For some reason, every time they think they find someone, an aching pain in their chest makes them hesitate. An unfamiliar voice calling their name makes them pause. A flash of something, perhaps a memory, too fast to register but not fast enough to ignore the heart wrenching pain of, makes them withdraw. It’s almost as if…

They’re waiting for someone that never existed.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

So! When I had this idea, I was listening to Strawberry Blonde by Mitski, and here’s how the lyrics played out in my head:

I love everybody because I love you

When you stood up, walked away, barefoot

And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape

I looked over it and I ached

(12:00 PM. August 8th, 2024. Lover’s enjoying their day in the park, sitting in the grass, eyes shut against the light breeze and warm sun. They turn to their side, almost as if to tell someone about how lovely the weather is. But no one’s there. A weird pain begins to ache in their heart.)

I love everybody because I love you

I don't need the city, and I don't need proof

All I need, darling, is a life in your shape

I picture it, soft and I ache

(Others—perhaps friends or family—come over and greet Lover, noticing their confused and distant expression, and ask what’s wrong. Nothing, they say, though they can’t escape the deep longing in their chest for… something that was never there.)

Look at you, strawberry blond

(Flashback timeeee- or… alternate timeline time? Flashback to a time in an alternate timeline, there we go.)

Reach out the car window tryna hold the wind

You tell me you love her, I give you a grin

Oh, all I ever wanted was a life in your shape

So I follow the white lines, follow the white lines

Keep my eyes on the road as I ache

(Shows Five and Lover together, in love, making memories together. Happy.)

Look at you, strawberry blond

Fields rolling on

I love it when you call my name

Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?

Watching your arm

I love it when you look my way

Look at you, strawberry blond

Fields rolling on

I love it when you call my name

Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?

Watching your arm

I love it when you look my way

(Events of season four began to play out, but ofc with Lover being part of the story.)

Look at you, strawberry blond

Fields rolling on

I love it when you call my name

Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?

Watching your arm

I love it when you look my way

(The climax of the story. Flashes of the last two episodes. Five and Lila returning, the explanation, the heartbreak, Five finding out how to save the world for good, Lover meeting his gaze one last time as the subway pulls away forever.)

Isaiah, Isaiah, Isaiah

(Lover repeating his name to themself, trying to remember for as long as possible, not able to let go.)

Isaiah, Isaiah, Isaiah

(Flashback ends, returns to Lover in the grass on that sunny day, murmuring the name to themself. They’re not quite sure why.)

°。°。°。°。°。°。

I hope you all enjoyed this little idea! I got a little rambly and wrote WAY MORE than I planned on, but it’s an idea I’ve fallen in love with this past hour and I wanted to be able to share it with all of you <3

[macsimagines]

YANDERE!SHINICHIRO SANO ONE NIGHT STAND

ok so here it is. I hope it's ok I'm kinda iffy about it let me know what you all think!! this is worst timeline btw!!!

MINORS DNIWARNINGS: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ONE NIGHT STAND, SPANKING AND DRINKING

You had no idea what you were even doing with your life. Late at night, in a run down jazz bar, you found yourself sitting on a stool sipping a cocktail all by yourself.

The piano on stage skillfully played a tune that was just pleasant enough for you to feel yourself to start to ease slightly. Maybe the drinks and bar itself weren't anything special, but at least there was music.

"Tastes like shit," a somber voice says to your side. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet a dark pair. Two onyx eyes that seemed to only reflect abyss.

Maybe on a different day you would have just ignored him, but tonight? You were feeling brave.

"What's wrong with it?" you inquire, suddenly finding the stranger fascinating. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark soul. You think you may have a type.

His eyes barely lift from his glass, a dark liquid swirling with his ice, "It's bitter." He answer plainly. Maybe his monotone response should make you reconsider trying to spark a connection...but something about his voice...

"It's... bourbon, right? You should've gotten a cocktail if you wanted something sweeter," you purr, pushing your own glass toward him, "Wanna taste mine?"

Finally, his eyes fully meet yours and something in the way that they analyze you has a shiver running across your skin. He's handsome, pretty even, and you find yourself feeling just a little hot under his intense stare.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. There's the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. Then he's sliding his hand, purposefully brushing your fingertips, and taking the glass from you. Your eyes never break contact as he brings the glass to his lips, his tongue licking at the sugar coated rim first.

You can feel your thighs clench at the erotic image this stranger makes. Something inside of you aching with a sudden need. "Well?" you say, scooting in closer, "Better?"

"Dunno," the man says leaning in closer, "I'm in the mood for somethin' much sweeter." You feel a rough hand come up and firmly squeeze your thigh.

Maybe its the alcohol, the atmosphere, or those gorgeous void like eyes of his, but you find yourself checking into a hotel with that stranger. Yes. Stranger.

His name doesn't matter, what he does for a living or why he's in this part of town. The only thing that matters is how good his hands feel around your throat and inside your aching pussy.

You don't care about all his tattoos or the fact that their was a danger slowly growing in those perfect eyes of his. A strange sort of obsession?

Tonight, you don't fight. When his hand cracks down hard against your ass, you moan and beg for more. When he makes you kiss him and devours every sound you try to make. And not even when he's plunging deep into you and pounding like a man going for broke.

As you start to see stars and get light headed, you allow this man, a man whose name you didn't even care to know, to have his sick and depraved way with you.

"Be my good-girl," he purrs a rough hand coming to wrap around your neck, "Stick out your tongue for me." You end up mindlessly doing as he says, so eager to please. And your pussy clenches and flutters around his thick girth when he meets it with his own.

Shamefully, you're just moaning when you fill him cum inside you, loving the feeling. And finally the man stops his constant praise of 'Good girl, perfect woman, mine so fucking mine,' to look you in the eyes again.

There's something different about them. Almost child like and wide. There is the smallest light in them and through the haze of your orgasm you swear there was something else...

But you're so spent and exhausted that you end up passing out in his arms. You're sure it won't matter in the morning, either one of you will be gone. Right?

You're surprised to find him still sleeping soundly next to you. You can't believe your good luck when you find he was as beautiful as you had remembered him being. The pleasant soreness of your body also told you that the sex hadn't just been the greatest wet dream of your life.

Its a shame you have to go. You two might actually be compatible, but something like that just didn't work out for you. Maybe if things were different... No. You won't let yourself fall for some stranger.

You're trying to get yourself dressed and out the door as quietly as possible but something is grabbing your wrist and pulling you back-! Right into someone's solid chest.

"Quit makin' all th'racket," he slurs, nose rubbing into your neck, "Lay back down with me, baby."

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and his soft touches remind you of everything from the night before. Fuck you want to stay for another round- or 3 -but you really needed to leave. So you try to push back.

"S-Sorry for waking you. I'll be out in just a second. I'll leave my half of the bill-!"

"You're not fucking going anywhere, Y/N."

Ice quickly runs down your spine. You're very sure you didn't tell him your name. You were supposed to be nameless strangers after all.

You turn to glare at him seeing that he has his phone open. "I had a friend of mine do some diggin' on you after you passed out last night." He tells you calmly. Like he didn't just admit to doing a creepy back ground check on you.

"Let go of me." You demand fighting back harder, "I want to go home!"

This man only smirks from where he sits on the bed his eyes having gone back to being cold and dead. "You brought me back into the light, baby. I'm your home now."

[katakaluptastrophy]

You use the idea of the months in the Nine Houses being named after the Lyctors in more than one fic, and suddenly people start asking you for the entire calendar...

Having apparently cool concepted my way a little too close to the sun, let's attempt to make a calendar!

Insofar as I had any clear assumptions, John is lazy and sentimental, and probably literally just renamed the months of the Gregorian calendar (though I do love the idea that he went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole and they ended up with the French Republican calendar, or the Darian calendar, or some vague attempt at the Warhammer 40k imperial dating system or something).

The dates I'd used in the fics were all months named after Lyctors. In the first round of Lyctors, we have saints of: Patience (Augustine) Joy (Mercy) Duty (G1deon)

That leaves four others, not counting Anastasia.

Presumably John's nomenclature for Lyctors riffed around the cardinal virtues of classical philosophy - justice, prudence, temperance, and fortitude - or the seven virtues in Catholicism: chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, kindness, patience, and humility.

Eight Lyctors with epithets left four more months to fill. I was tempted at this point to suggest they just ditched the 12 month structure and had, say, 9 40-day months (pregnancy and Lent felt like not utterly irrelevant time structures given the context and that still keeps us vaguely in the shape of the solar year). But @queeoretician had the excellent suggestion of using the schools of necromacy, and that plus the Resurrection and the Tomb made up the full 12. @silasoctakiseron suggested that Entombment is perhaps a rather somber or penitential month, which feels appropriate.

So for everyone who has asked, here is a vague attempt at a full calendar:

The Months of Dominicus, as time was reckoned by the Resurrecting King and his disciples on the temple of the First House:

Patience - in honour of the first saint to serve the King Undying

Marrow - in honour of the bone upon which the body of empire is built

Joy - in honour of the second saint to serve the King Undying

Sinew - in honour of that which unites the flesh and bone

Duty - in honour of the third saint to serve the King Undying

Entombment - in remembrance of the victory of the Necrolord Highest

Diligence - in honour of the fourth saint to serve the King Undying

Psyche - in honour of the spirit that animates and answers

Fortitude - in honour of the fifth saint to serve the King Undying

Justice - in honour of the sixth saint to serve the King Undying

Fidelity - in honour of the seventh saint to serve the King Undying

Resurrection - in remembrance of the Nine Renewals

Any thoughts or feedback are greatly appreciated!

[my-starlights]

ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇx!ʙꜰ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ…

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ. In which you stumble into your ex, Nanami Kento.

ʟɪᴍʙᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. Angst :: hurt/comfort :: fluff at the end :: sfw

ʟᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛꜱ. Nanami Kento  :: Gojo Satoru

ʀᴜɪ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ. It’s been a while since I wrote something haha… I said I’d do geto but Nanami has my heart so here we are 😭

ᴡᴄ.  1.1k

“Listen, let’s be mature about this, please.”

The light on your phone glares into your glassy eyes.

“I don’t want this either, but you’re not a child anymore.”

Even though you’re looking at couplecore posts on social media, Kento’s voice keeps breaking through.

Stupid lovey-dovey couples on Tik Tok. You angrily swipe at your eyes and press ‘not interested’ at the video.

“If you can’t handle this argument like an adult, perhaps you should take a step back from this relationship.”

Your phone suddenly turns dark - agh, it died - and with a huff you set it down to charge, looking at the ceiling. It’s been three weeks since your messy breakup with Nanami Kento, and social media isn’t helping you forget about you and your boyfriend’s - ex-boyfriend’s - argument;  it started as a small confrontation about him overworking and ended with… with this.

You, leaving your shared home and going to your old Jujutsu Tech dorm.

Kento, still at his office, head in hands and unable to focus.

You know he’d never cheat; but it seemed like he was working to the bone. No more weekend dates or him coming home to you cooking dinner; he was at the office more than he’d see you, and for weeks on end. You’d been crying, begging him for a break from work, and him stoically telling you in an impatient voice that this was just what being an adult was.

The two of you never fought like this before. Ever since the argument, you feel as if a chunk of your being was forced away from you, leaving you empty. Alone. You feel a lump in your throat and swallow, blinking back more tears.

It’s time to move on, you reason with yourself. It was nearing midnight.

You sigh and close your eyes.

—

The next day, you wake up with the same sense of dread you’ve had in the past couple weeks, and just as you exit the old dorms… you see Gojo Satoru. Of course. You hadn’t seen him alone in a while, only with his girlfriend.

He spots you and strolls towards you, running hand through his hair. Was he… relieved?

Something’s awry.

“Ah! I’ve been looking for you,” he says, sighing as he takes in your somber appearance. “Everywhere. You have no idea.”

“Well here I am,” you say tiredly. “Why… why were you looking for me?”

“Nanami has been quite worried about you, you know. He wouldn’t tell me anything other than that. He’s asked me to look for you and taken time off from work, and everything.”

What? Kento off of work? This only happened on birthdays or holidays. And Gojo actually listening to Kento for once too? This has never happened.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “Well, I don’t know why anyone’s looking for me. I’ve been here. Besides, Kento and I, we’ve broken up, so—“

“WHAT??” Gojo screeches, and you jump back, surprised by the noise. “YOU’RE NOT TOGETHER ANYMORE?”

You rub your temples. “Not anymore, I think?  He said I should take a step back from our relationship, and—“

Gojo is about to screech again when Kento walks up, hair ruffled and tie loosened, looking ready to murder Gojo. “Leave,” he barks at Gojo. “You found her, now go bother someone else.”

You jerk away from the two men. What the hell is happening?

Kento moves up to Gojo mutters something into his ear;  the latter turns pink and begins walking away, looking at you apologetically. Kento rubs the bridge of his nose, and turns to you.

“Oh, love,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry about the past couple weeks. It wasn’t you who was immature, it was me.”

You look at him, defensive, eyes already slightly glassy. “You broke up with me. And now you want me back? That’s not how break ups work.” You pivot on your heel, heart breaking at his surprised face, and start walking briskly away, him quickly catching up.

“Love, I didn’t mean to… we’re not seriously broken up, are we? I never meant to… I was speaking without thinking, please don’t tell me you thought we’re broken up…”

You turn to Kento abruptly, still walking. “What was I supposed to think?” You say, incredulous.

“No, no, no, love, I’m so sorry, please just stop walking—”

“—Kento, I’m not mature enough for you. I don’t take what you take seriously, I’m childish near you, and you made that clear. I understand now—“

You’re interrupted by Kento falling to his knees in front of you. “Love,” he says, collecting your palms in his hands. “Please forgive me. I was the immature one, you’re too good to me, you were looking out for me—“

“Kento please get up—“

“—You need to understand this. You’re the love of my life, how could I ask that you step back? I’m ruined without you—“

“—Kento, please just—“

“—you’re the love of my life, I’m so sorry, I’ll spend every day making it up to you. I’ve started going only part-time at my job. I’m ready to do the best I can for you. You were worried about my well being and I punished you for it. Please just forgive me…”

Tears finally start rushing down your face, but Kento doesn’t let go of your hands. “Oh, Ken…” you sniffle. “You started part-time? For me? Please get up, I…. Let me hug you….”

He rushes up, feeling the blood run to his head, but he doesn’t care; you hug him hard, still crying. He feels a stab in his chest every time he feels a tear sink into his shirt.

You mumble against his broad chest. “I forgive you,” you mumble. “I missed you, Ken. I love you.”

He wraps you in a hug, looking down and cupping your face. His usually steady voice tremors slightly. “Am I still your… are we still together?”

You smile up, eyes watery, at him. “If you’ll have me.”

He hugs you hard. “There is no universe in which I don’t want you. I… let’s not do this here, love. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Your eyebrows crinkle in a way Kento didn’t realize he missed. You look up at him. “Home?”

“You think I just meant to apologize and move on? No, love, I have gifts for you. And a dinner planned. I don’t want to spend any more time at work that I could spend instead with you.”

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his, then lean upwards to peck his cheek. “I love you, Ken,” you say, stepping back.

The somberness, the loneliness you felt just this morning, fade away. The part of you that broke after your fight seems to mend itself back into you. Finally, you’re….

Complete again.

© property of @ghost-buddies. do not repost, translate or edit.

[mooooonnnzz]

hi!!! I fell in love with your content and I wanted to make a little request, since it was on my mind for a while...

It's kinda cringe but I saw your hc's/fic about Stan's and Ford's reaction to their daughter having a partner, but what would they say about the break-up??? how would they react?? 💔💔

I'm Glad There Is You

Stan + Ford HC's of you getting broken up with!

ʚ♡ɞ 4,2k words

ʚ♡ɞ we're so back

ʚ♡ɞ i've been cooking this up for the past few days mwehehe

ʚ♡ɞ i won't be publishing fics as frequently! but its better cuz i wont be pushing out poopy fics. i can actually take my time with them and make em better :3

ʚ♡ɞ that's all enjoy! request are still open too :p

🎱 Stan

𝄞 Stan hadn’t suspected a thing when he saw you rush into your room after being out all day. You occasionally do that when you were exhausted and had no more battery left in you to uphold another conversation. But, when he saw you all disheveled in appearance. Not bothering to glance at him, let alone tell him about your day, he knew something was up. Springing your wellbeing in the conversation was tricky. He knows that if he straight up asked if you’re okay, you’d burst out into tears and cry out incoherent words that sounded like mushed up sobs into his ear. So how could he ease you into talking about yourself without having you break down? For the remainder of the day, he was tackling himself with ways he could ask about how you’re doing, stemming from slapping a sticky note on your forehead to passing a note under your door. But none of them seemed effective. His brain was splitting into two. He couldn’t decide and the day was coming to a close. The orange overhang of the sun shone into the shack and Stan was contemplating on asking your partner why you were sad because if he didn’t know what was going on, your partner had an idea or the full picture. He decided against it though. Maybe this was something you’d rather keep to yourself? 

𝄞 The stress was so bad he had to go outside for a quick smoke. Seeing you in an emotional state of disarray sends him into one as well. He plucked a cigarette from his pack and pinched it in between his lips. Craning his head up a bit to light up the cigarette, he shielded the orange flame sparkling to life from the wind with his cupped hand. He blew a stream of smoke into the evening air, his electrifying nerves nulling into a soft calming buzz. He knew smoking was bad for him, but he couldn’t stray away from it in times like these. The door to the front porch painfully creaked open. Looking over his shoulder, he softly smiled upon seeing you. “Pumpkin,” He pats the side right next to him. You take the seat and inhale the crisp air—well, from what you can get with all the cigarette smoke littering the air. “Second hand smoking is way worse than first hand.” You mention, delicate amusement trailing in your words as you take a seat beside him. 

𝄞 “You’re the one who walked out here knowing I was smoking.” He replied with a flick of his hand. Another trail of smoke escapes his mouth as he exhales, his body visibly relaxing into the familiar routine. “I should get a cigarette too.” You stretched out your arms, cracking a small smile. “Heh,” Stan flicked the cigarette, small shreds of ashes trickling down from the burning end of the stick. “You think you’re funny.” You nod intensely. “I think I’m very funny.” You look off into the horizon, eyes carrying such a thick somber look to them Stan had to finally ask the question he had been beating around the bush for who knows how long. “You okay, kiddo?” 

𝄞 Your eyes glisten over with tears, bottom lip trembling as you hold back the words you’ve been dreading to say to your dad the minute news broke out to you. “Oh, [Name].” Stan burnt out his cigarette, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. The pure affection coming from Stan made you pour out more tears, trembling sobs wracking your body as you mournfully cried onto his shoulder. “Let it out, sweetpea.” His hand comfortingly patted your back. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but maybe you needed a quick cry to comfortably tell him what happened. His stomach churned as the suspicion of the reason why you were crying into his shoulder rose. He had a feeling on why you were acting like that, but he had hoped he was wrong.

𝄞 He wasn’t wrong. He was right, unfortunately for him. After recollecting yourself to the best of your ability, Stan had discovered that your partner had broken up with you earlier today for reasons that they had not specified. Frustration bubbled up inside Stan and it took every bone in his body to not slam his fists on your ex’s door, gun in hand to shoot them down for breaking your heart. Instead, he opted to swallow down his anger and tend to you. You needed him to be right by your side and he wasn’t going to suddenly up and leave to shoot down a person. He’d wind up in jail and then you would have to deal with the loss of your partner and your dad. The thought sent chills down his spine. You peeled yourself off his shoulder, leaving a slobbering teary eyed stain on suit. “I’m sorry.” You mutter, eyes red and burning from the force of squeezing them closed. “It’s okay, sweetpea. You don’t need to apologize for things like this, you know that right?” His thumb swipes a stray tear off your cheek. “I know,” You hiccup. Stan seeing you like this infront of him shredded his heart into tiny little pieces. Who could hurt you like this? How could someone protect his child’s heart and break it the next day? Your partner even promised that they’d never pull a stunt like this, and yet here you are, bleary eyed and sniffily.

𝄞 Your face pinched with a forever sorrowful look and for a second he thinks that he’s never going to have you back, he’s never going to see your smile ever again and that alone terrifies him. There has to be something that can cheer you up, right? You’re not forever stuck in this pool of sadness? This is something someone can get over right? All prior knowledge to his personal relationship flies off his head and out the window. He removes himself from his thoughts and grounds him in the moment. What is something that’ll cheer you up? An idea sprouted in his mind. “Want to watch a movie with your old man?” He doesn’t know how you’d respond to his offer and it slightly scares him. He’s never been able to fully predict your every move, but he has made some sense of them later on, but he’s never seen you in this state before and he doesn’t know what to expect. “I’d like that.” You meekly nod your head and Stan has to contain himself from lurching up into the air and cheering out in happiness. Rather, he clears his throat and broadly smiles at you. “I’m gonna take a real quick shower. Pick out a movie you wanna watch and I’ll be back in no time.” 

𝄞 The rest of the night was spent snuggled up in the sofa, a blanket of yours of when you were a kid was draped over you and Stan. It barely gave you any coverage but you claimed that it did when Stan would mention it. Stan didn’t want to disagree with you and besides, the blanket reminded him of when you were a little kid, carefree and giddy with little to no knowledge of idiotic people who’d carelessly shatter your heart and leave you without any consolation. The movie that was playing was and still is an all time favorite of yours. You and Stan had memorized the lines that have been forever sewn into your brain from how many times you forced Stan to watch it when you were little. Guess some things don’t change. The days following are full of extensive care and love, enough that would be overbearing to anyone that wasn’t you–at least sometimes. 

𝄞 Fishing outings were a must. Stan would rapidly knock on your door, standing on the other side decked head to toe in his fishing outfit. Your fishing hat in hand. You couldn’t say no to him when he’s looking at you with such a sad look in his eyes and dressed up, putting on your worn fishing hat that has seen better days. Stan proudly smiled at you, wiping off a tear from the corner of his eye. “Why are you crying, Dad?” You chuffed nervously. “My eyes are sweating!” He covered his eyes with his forearm, violently sobbing as he walked away to get the fishing gear. In his defense, he hasn’t gone fishing with you in a good long while and seeing you wearing your fishing outfit really triggered the water works in his eye. The past week has been an emotional wreck for you and him, who could blame him? You had forgotten how much fun fishing was. A laugh rattles through your throat as you reel back your fishing rod. This must be your third attempt in catching a fish, and Stan’s enthusiastic commentary struck a funny cord within you. With a few more tugs and reeling back, you caught the fish. “Awesome catch!” He patted your back with so much force, you jolted forward, making the boat lean to the side, causing you to lose your footing and drop the fish in the water. When you were about to revel in your loss, you heard a large splash and large droplets of water sprinkling over you. You turned your attention over to where the splash was heard and to your luck, Stan bobbed his head out of the water, gasping dramatically as his arms flailed around. “Dad!” You laugh.

𝄞 “The water isn’t even that deep.” Talking was a task to do with how hard you were laughing. “Oh.” He stopped thrashing around and allowed him to sink to the bottom of the lake floor. And to his surprise, the water barely even passed his upper chest. That realization made you hunch over in laughter. “Oh, stop laughing!” He grabbed onto the edge of the boat and tried pulling himself up, but the sudden shift in weight made the boat tip over, sending you and all the other belongings in the boat into the freezing water. “[Name]!” He looked to where you were under the water, ready to dive in and grab you from below when you sprung out of the water. You stared at him, cheeks puffed as you struggled to hold back your laughter. “Oh, whatever.” His initial panic was washed off with playful annoyance. “Go ahead, laugh at your old man.” He rolls his eyes upon hearing your boisterous laughter echo in the air. “That was insane!” You wrap your arms around Stan’s neck, hoisting yourself up so you don’t drown while laughing. “Yeah, go ahead. Laugh at this poor old man who’s clearly struggling.” 

𝄞 Singing your favorite songs in your karaoke machine was his favorite way to catch you off guard. He’d notice you reminiscing on the past and he’d make a beeline to your machine, slamming the buttons that would turn it on and play a song that you like. His gruff scratchy singing voice always pulled you out of your mind and into the present moment. Walking into the living room where he relocated your karaoke machine for times like these, you couldn’t help but laugh as he passionately sang into the microphone. “Disco girl, coming through! That girl is you!” He points the microphone at you, motioning you over to join him. It takes some convincing but when you do, you and him are blissfully singing your hearts out into the microphone. 

𝄞 Seeing your partner around town was an immediate mood kill for Stan. Unaware and in a chipper mood, he found himself in the grocery store. Stacking up on food and snacks to fill your stomach and his. When strolling into the available cash register, his smile curls into a grimace when he sees who was behind the counter. “You,” he spat out. “Ah, Mr. Pines!” They nervously chuckled. “Good to see you. How’s it been?” They can’t make eye contact. The lazer like glare Stan was giving them was enough to know that things haven’t been good. Grabbing an item from the shopping cart, he hovered it over the conveyor belt, mulling over his thoughts. He could not pay for this and run out of the store or he could unscrew the carton of milk and squirt it all over your ex. Or maybe, he could do both? With speed no one could comprehend, he undid the lid and spilled the milk all over them, chucking the empty carton right on their head for extra measure. He then grabbed the cart and bolted out of the grocery store, leaving everyone in the store stunned. “Is anyone going to arrest him or?” A random passerby asked, watching how your ex just stood there, completely befuddled with milk dripping down their body. 

𝄞 “Dad? Why is the news saying that you assaulted a worker in the grocery store with milk?” Stan scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see on the news, sweetie.” He takes a good sip of his pitt cola. “But it shows camera footage of you doing it.” You gesture to the video that was playing. “Fake news. You know how technology is advancing. They can make anything these days.” He grabs the remote and switches channels. “There! Now, we don’t have to see that.” You smile, elbowing him. “It was cool that you did that.” You mutter. He chuckles. “The kid deserved that.” 

𝄞 Drives around the town and wreaking havoc in rival attraction traps were a good stress reliever and anger outlet. You were swinging with all your might, your axe that was in hand was splintering through the large wooden statue. “Keep going!” Stan was serving as a lookout, his eyes switching through the front door and to you. Sweat rolled down your temples as you delivered one last final blow to the statue. The statue slowly tipped forward. “Let’s go.” Stan urgently whispered, running back to the family van with you in tow. Stan started the van and sped out of the parking lot and into the driveway. “God dammit, Stanley Pines!” The person emerged from his house, shaking his fist in the air. You clapped your hands together, laughing. “That was a fun one.” You noted, swiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt. “Who’s next?” You ask eagerly. “Check on the map. You decided where we will go next.” This was the first time you fully smiled at him with your signature laugh following after. No remnants of sadness stuck to you. He knew right then and there that he got you back. 

📖 Ford

𝄞 Ford was peacefully slumbering on the couch when the front door was slammed shut, scaring him awake. He jolted forward, the book that was covering his face fell flat on his lap, startling him. “[Name]?” He closes the book in his lap and pushes it aside. You didn’t respond and he was quickly resorting to the idea that it wasn’t you. Creeping towards your room, his knuckles knock on the door. “Sweetie?” He puts his hand on the knob and very slowly turns it. “I’m coming in.” He announces. Opening the door, his eyes land on your back. Quiet sniffles and hiccups could be heard coming from you and Ford’s heart clenched in his chest. He never liked hearing you cry. “[Name]?” He settles himself down on your bed. He couldn’t get to see your face properly since you were curled inwards with your blanket slightly obstructing your face, but he could see your body quiver as you suppressed your sobs. Ford sucked his bottom lip into his teeth. Equally as clueless as his brother, he doesn’t know how to approach this. He hadn’t had the slightest idea of why you’re crying and that truly bugs him. 

𝄞 His hand rests on your hip, fingers tapping in a soothing rhythm. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He’s chewing on his lip, anxiety running its full race through his body, relentless and awfully energetic. He’s sure by the end of this, he wasn’t going to have a bottom lip from how much he was nibbling on it. You shuffle further into your blanket in response. “You don’t wanna talk about it?” He croaks out. He never liked when you pushed him away in your most vulnerable moments. He knows you mean well but he detests being in the unknown. You let out a small hum. He had learned over the years that two hums were yes and one was no. It was a very asbured way to communicate but it did come in handy when you weren’t in the mood to talk. This was a way of telling him that you weren’t in the mood prevented Ford from asking an assault wave of questions.

𝄞  “Do you want me to stay here with you?” Two hums. Patting your waist, he shuffles to the other side of your bed and plops down right next to you, mindlessly staring off into the ceiling. His anxiety was still pounding through his body, his clammy hands and beating heart proved that but it quelled a little of it knowing that you wanted him beside you. That you found comfort in his presence. He’d hope you did, he didn’t raise you all these years just for you to hate him. Wait, you don’t hate him, right? You could never hate him. He’s your dad! Can kids hate their own parents? He hated his dad so that can be a generational—

𝄞 “I think hear your overthinking from here, Dad.” Your voice comes out muffled from speaking through the blanket covering your face. He blinks, swallowing his doubt and looking over to your blanket covered face. “Sorry,” he lets out a dry laugh, scratching his cheek. “It wasn’t my intention to annoy you.” You pull the blanket down to the bridge of your nose, allowing Ford to see your irritated swollen eyes. “You’re not annoying me, Dad. You being anxious makes me anxious.” Ford cracked a smile. “Like father, like child.” That managed to pull a smile from you. “Unfortunately, I grow to be more like you everyday.” You say with a roll of your eyes. An overdramatic offended gasp leaves Ford. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

𝄞 Playful banter was tossed between the two of you, each quick remark and quip allowed you to pick yourself up from the hole you were cowering in. After a while, you mustered up everything you had and told him about the break-up. Ford really couldn’t believe it at first. You had to repeat it to him twice much to your dismay but once he caught what you said, his face fell. “They were a waste of time anyways.” He said with a flick of his wrist. “Dad!” You weren’t expecting him to come off so strongly over hearing the news. “It’s true. They couldn’t even take my work seriously! How could someone laugh at my face when I tell them that aliens are real? Someone is clearly stuck in the stone ages.” 

𝄞 He was riding on the mindset of you need to forget this person and move on. Wallowing over losing them wasn’t ideal and you need to distract yourself with other things to prevent yourself from dwelling back on the thought of them. He was done with your ex, so should you. But he was real quick to find out that you weren't exactly like him in that aspect. He’d find you resting on the couch, eyes mindlessly staring at the TV as you’re cuddled up with blankets upon blankets. Tear marks were stained on your cheeks. Maybe you couldn’t distract yourself? Maybe he should be the one that distracts you? He’d scribble drawings of you and him on a piece of paper and fold it up into a cute little airplane and toss it over to you. You would unwrap the little gift with a smile, tears clouding your eyes. “Aw, Dad...” You held the piece of paper to your chest.

𝄞 Your favorite dinner would be cooked almost everyday, and if you have more than one, you bet he’d be coking it up in the kitchen, offering different favorite meals every night. Anything that would bring the smile on your face back. Adventures out into the woods, just like old times, was a thing he’d bring you along with. Even when you did protest and groan, whining how you would rather cry into your pillow, Ford stood his ground and made sure that you got ready for the adventure he had meticulously planned. The minute you step into the familiar lush woods, a sense of calmness falls over you and suddenly you’re a kid skipping around in the woods, in search of anything to show Ford so he could write about the new discovery in his book. Finding old discoveries lightened a smile on your face and unknowingly to you, Ford would draw you in his book like how he did when you were younger. Old habits die hard. 

𝄞 A lot of nights were spent you talking your feelings out to Ford. He was a good listener and had a few quips of advice to lend over, since he’s been in a similar but not so similar predicament. But he was more intent on listening to your concerns and anxieties. “I can’t believe I let them do that!” You plop your back down on your bed, anger spilling out of you in sharp words. He shook his head, a very sassy “mhm,” leaves him. “They didn’t deserve you anyways.” He moved his finger side to side. “Why are you acting like that?” You laugh, gingerly pushing him. “Don’t your friends act like that when something happens?” You beam from ear to ear, a loud laugh escaping you. “No! Where did you even get that from?” Ford shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought they did?” He pretended to act clueless and with a big smile of his own, he watched you curl up in laughter over his ridiculous act. He could only think of how much he missed your smile and beautiful laugh. 

𝄞 Seeing your ex at the mall was a surprise both for him and them. Ford was scanning the shelves in search of something to get you when they approached them. “Sir, do you need any he…” Their words die in their throat when they register who they’re talking to. Ford hasn’t made the correlation yet, his attention so wrapped up in finding you the perfect gift. “Do you need any help?” They repeat, their voice cracking. Ford lazily looks over to them, dismissing them before looking back. Then, a look of recognition washes over him and he whips his head over to them. “You!” He loudly yelled. Customers in the store glance over to them. “Mr. Pines, keep it down.” They stressed out, teeth gritted together. “I will–.” An idea came to mind. “I’m sorry.” He rolled his shoulders back, untensing them. They look to the side, uncomfortable with the sudden change. “You’re sorry?” They repeat in disbelief. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way.” A strained smile pulled to his face as he bid goodbye. Stepping out of the store, he sees you happily munching on a blueberry muffin you bought from the bakery. “Hi, Dad! You got anything?” He looks around you. “Do you have any food?” You place your muffin down on the table and grab the bag full of treats. “Yeah. I got some–” Ford dipped his hand in the bag and pulled out a cookie. His other hand digs into the inner pockets of his coat and pulls out a vial of pink sprinkles. “I knew I was going to use this at some point.” He mutters to himself, popping off the cork. “What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he sprinkled it onto the cookie.

𝄞 “You’ll see.” He winks at you before scooping it off the table and walking back into the store. Minutes later, he comes out with a big sinister smile on your face. “What did you do, Dad?” He pointed at the entrance of the store and it didn’t take long to see what he did. A flamingo human-like creature erupted into the store, squawking crazily as their head desperately swiped from side to side, looking for someone. Their black beady eyes landed on you and Ford. An angry squawk was heard from them, their chicken like legs slapping on the floor as they charged at you and Ford. “Run!’ Ford grabbed your wrist and darted away. In a quick swiping motion, you grabbed your bag full of treats before being whisked away. Loud bird noises were heard behind you and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Who is that chasing us?” Ford took a quick turn into another store, shuffling past people and hiding in a discreet corner with you. “That may be your ex angrily chirping at us.” You clapped your palm onto your mouth, an effort to muffle the laughter that left you. “Of course you’d do something like that!” The rest of the day was stealthily trying to escape the mall without being pecked to death by a very angry flamingo. When you did, you were laughing all the way to the car. “Do you always have that around for times like this?” Ford nods. “You’ll never know when you need to make someone a flamingo.” The automatic slide door pulls apart. “Pines!” The now fully turned flamingo human hybrid squawked out. “Get in the car, hurry!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added to my taglist :3

[efy727]

Role Swap AU: Susie and Taranza

Hey, hey, hey, new roleswap au!

Ok, ok. I finally decided to post this. This thing is being in the works since 2023. I originally kept it to myself as I perfected the designs and story (and got swept away by other projects...) but here it is: My Kirby Role Swap Au!

It started out with just the idea what if THESE TWO swapped roles. Triple Deluxe and Planet Robobot are some the most thematic heavy games, gardens and technology, fairytales and sci-fi, a kingdom and a company.

I kind of goes against my usual patterns, I usually show off main characters first, but I think this duo represents better my vision. I'll slowly showcase other characters whenever I get the chance.

Anyway, let me elaborate in my au versions of these characters.

Taranza:

A young inventor from a distant planet and a rather recent hire of Sectra Labs Inc., a company that specializes in biotechnology and bionics, that is genetic manipulation and mechanical enhancements. This company explores the universe to harvest new specimens for their experiments. In their travels, Taranza hopes of reuniting with an old friend.

When thinking about this au, I didn't want things to be just changing roles, but also a few story details and how they play out. So, I made SLI a bio tec company instead of a robotics one.

Taranza, then, doesn't use magic but his own inventions (he doesn't have any genetic alterations as he is new). I drew how electricity just bolts from his gloves, he also has invisibility and a sticky solution he can shoot. I also gave him these expressive goggles just because I like those.

In story, he is a bit peeved about having to deal with the interloper in his first planetary harvest trip; but we also get to see a dorkier side of him as he gushes about what he or the company has made to deal with the pink pest, I'm thinking Varian from Tangled.

But also, as the plot moves, he grows concerned about how intrusive the harvest process actually is as he joined for a legit interest of helping improving lives using processes of nature, like Joronia used to do. Oh, the pain he will find in the end.

Susie:

Through the islands of Crystalia descended a mysterious lady who captured Lord Meta Knight, but why? Whatever her mission is, she won't tell. Yet it's clear she will use any tricks to not let anyone get in her way. With her magic crystal, she can control the elements.

Oh Susie, Susie, Susie. I had this long conundrum. Ok, Tanzy has mechanical enhancements to replace magic, but in a way different to how Susie uses tech (it wasn't always like that); but how do I do something similar to Susie?

I came up with the wand, but that wasn't enough. This came up to me recently, but what if she could just create elemental armor around her? Something like how certain character does in Ninjago Dragons Rising; but is wind, is water, it can be anything! She does have other things too, like her crossbow.

She is a woman on a mission, but this time is Crystalia instead of Floralia. I wanted something natural and pretty, but that kinda aligns better with the characters involved. Kirby still has to climb the Dreamstalk using Sunstones, though.

Opossed to Taranza, Susie seems to have some sort of secret plan. She is less chatty, acts more somber. Could it be related to her being a wanted fugitive by the kingdom?

--

Ok, this winded up longer than intended. I hope you find my idea interesting. I'll get to more entries when I can, might drop at random days, I have other projects I want out. Could look up "EFY's Kirby role swap au" to find more entries... or just follow me (・・。)ゞ

Thanks for taking some interest!

[miyuka1709]

I want to write Sommie but I'm lazy and also I have no idea what to do with her, her psyche, her themes.

So I decided to just play the Stranger route and write down all her possible dialogues alongside Sinist's.

(Spoilers for Chapter II : The Stranger under the cut)

> For all I know, you're locked up down here for a reason. Do you know why you're down here?

Somber : “But you know, right? You have to know. You're the only other person I've ever seen, or at least the only one I can remember. Don't give me false hope. Please just end this already. One way or another, just do it.”

Sinister : “Don’t be coy. We both know why I'm locked away here. I'm a monster, and the second I get out of this place, I'm going to end the entire world.”

> You're apparently a threat to the world. I was sent here to slay you.

Sinister : “Because I am. Everything you've heard about me is true, and I am going to lay waste to everything. Starting with you.”

> If I let you out of here, what are you going to do?

Sinister : “Besides, you already know what I'm going to do.”

Somber : “If you want to put an end to me, then put an end to me.”

> Getting down here was… weird. Like I was pulled apart and put back together again. Do you know what happened to me?

Somber : “We're probably stuck down here forever, aren't we? There's no way out, and barely a way in.”

Sinister : (Oho~) “I thought they would send something better to deal with me. If the stairs managed to chew you up, I will devour you.”

> What's your name?

Somber : “It doesn't matter. I've been down here for so long. What's the point of a name if there's no one around to use it?”

Sinister : “I don't need a name. My name is whatever hushed whispers follow in the wake of my devastation.”

> There's more of you now

Somber : “I don't feel like I've gotten any bigger.”

Sinister : “It must be fear creeping into your heart. You know you can't stop me.”

---

Now I just have to spend a week thinking about what to do about them and trying to come up with a somewhat unique voice for their chapter IIs

Somber/Hopeless is basically Broken if he was a Princess? Whiny, sad, seeks peace, safety, comfort, passive.

Sinister is basically Nightmare Princess but less scary or powerful.

Now what

[coquettecouture]

Achieving the iconic 2015 look as a 2025 girl!

Have you ever told yourself you were born into the wrong generation? Maybe it’s the nostalgia of listening to One Direction on your iPhone 5, or maybe you’re older and can enjoy it more now. Whatever the case may be, if you’re reading this you also miss the good energy of the 2013-2016s. And if that is the case, this is the post for you! Achieving a real and authentic 2015 inspired year is nowhere near as unobtainable as it might seem. From youtube, to fashion inspo let this post be your guide to unleashing your inner icon!

Fashion Inspiration!

King kylie, Bella Hadid, Ariana Grande and Sky Ferreria! All iconic and well known fashion icons. Whether you're a Pinterest 2014 girl or a Tumblr 2015 one, you at least are familiar with one. Luckily a huge part of the era's fashion is it's simplicity. Depending on the sub-style you're going for, your inspiration can range anywhere from shabby chic to grunge!

Regardless of color, most of the essentials remain the same. Skater girl skirts? Make it pink or black, and it works no matter the aesthetic! Though for some things, such as the coquette shabby chic, try things like floral wedges and flowy dresses! And for grunge, try flannels, black skinny jeans and converse! Fashion is all about what works for you, which is why it's important to find your style before anything else. Fashion inspo is just as unique as you are!

Movies and Books!

Of course, to really embrace the energy of a 2015 icon, you have to surround yourself with it! Staple movies like, The Fault in our stars and Paper towns are a way one ticket to nostalgia. Other movies such as Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Great Gatsby and If I Stay are perfect additions to your 2015 movie nights! My personal favorite movies of the time are All the bright places, Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List and LOL. The early 2010's were the best movie era in my opinion and this filmography list proves it!

The books however, are an entirely more diverse subject. While most 2010's movies are either mostly dystopian or romance, the books are a whole different ballpark. From horror to romcom to sci-fi, there's a fit for everyone! The most popular choices are of course John Green and your typical dystopian series; however, I raise a much larger choice of selections. In terms of sci-fi with a mix of romance the Caster Chronicles series (Beautiful Creatures) is a phenomenal series and an even better movie. If horror is more your speed, Natasha Preston's The Cellar and Welcome to the Dark House by Parker Bradley are definitely CoCo approved! Finally for the love nuts, aka me, To All the Boys I've Loved Before is a classic and obvious choice, but I would be a fraud to not include it!

Music Music Music!

One beautiful thing about the 2010's is it's consistency in music that makes you feel! For most people, that feeling is sadness LOL. However, there is poetry in that writing which makes the inner ache of somber all worth it for the bliss of melody. Artists like The 1975, Marina, Lana Del Rey and Lorde are all versatile and perfect artists to get you right back in that nostalgic state!

Whether you're looking for a more girlish vibe or a darker energy, the 2010's are a great time for whatever musical desires you have! I will leave my link to my 2014 playlist right here! Whether you use it for yourself or inspiration is up to you! Please let me know in the comments if you end up liking it, or link your own playlists!!!

Room Decor!

The quickest way to achieve a realistic 2015 inspired room is to go onto Pinterest and find your niche! For some super personal ideas on how to make your room aesthetically you, check out some old DIY YouTube videos. They range from various aesthetics, and you can personalize them anyway you please! My favorite youtubers to watch are MyLifeAsEva, LaurDIY, Alisha Marie and of course my queen of DIY Bethany Mota.

For the overall aesthetic, if you’re one of the grungier girls, opt for posters like The 1975 or The Neighborhood. Things like black throw pillows or printed out photos of you and your friends are perfect for achieving your look. Cutting out clippings from magazines and making collages is also a fun and free way to personalize your room!

Now if you’re like me and you’re more of a pink girl, try floral sheets like tulips or daisies! Fur throw pillows and double sided sequin pillows are a good touch for your bed too. Posters like Lana Del Rey and Ariana Grande are more 2015-esque touches, along with string lights and polaroids!

No matter the aesthetic, what’s really important is personalization! You don’t want your room to be the same as everyone else’s, it should be unique and showcase who you are!

In Conclusion..

Whether you’re a Tumblr grunge or a Pinterest shabby chic, I hope this guide helps you in any way it can! The most important thing about truly making this year your dream aesthetic is all in your experience. 2025 is what you make it! Whether it’s staying at home all day reading TFIOS, or if it’s going out and taking polaroids on the beach. Any year can be any aesthetic you want, as long as you hope it so. Even small things like hanging out with friends or watching nostalgic YouTube videos can make your year what you want it to be!

Thank you so much for reading, and for all of the support I have gotten! I truly haven’t been posting for long, but I have already made friends and gotten so much love and I want to thank you all so very much for it! If there’s anything you’re interesting in me reading, or want a more in depth explanation for, please let me know in the comments! I love you divas, stay cutesy!

[gothicxreylover]

Hello! I thought of this scenario that I'd love to make a request to you. I have this weird obsession with the Hashiras (and Tengen's wives) so I'd like to go with them this time as well. Everyone in the scenario below is members of the Corps.

「After coming back from a long mission that took several days, the Hashiras found y/n, their object of adoration, looking somber and refusing to look at them. Many questions and words of comfort later, y/n reluctantly turned to them, revealing a swollen dark bruise on one side of their face, a teary eye and a slight bloody lip.

Truth revelation: the bruise came from a powerful smack/slap to the face but it was y/n defending another person, who happened to be a friend y/n made in the Corps. Y/n just wanted to stop a petty, meaningless fight between them and the mean assailant (a typical bully) in peace. But the bully decided to attack their friend so y/n acted without a thought.

In the end, the whole ordeal was stopped but ended with pain and spilled blood. However, y/n understood their beloved's yandere traits too well as they were lowkey scared for the bully's sake if they knew. Hence y/n trying to hide the whole thing and tend to their injuries by themselves.」

Haha this random idea stemmed from a scene from a drama I saw long ago. Anyway, take your time and no need to rush. I'm sure it will turn out amazing with your writing. Have a nice day!

Ahhh! This is a good scenario! Here’s your story and I hope you enjoy it! I wrote Tengen and his wives separately.

[Scene: The Corps’ Headquarters, Late Evening]

After days of grueling battles and endless travel, the entire Corps had finally returned to headquarters. The familiar corridors and quiet moments usually brought relief—but tonight, something was off. You were seated quietly on a low bench near the entryway, your eyes cast downward. A dark, swollen bruise marred one side of your face, your lip was slightly bloody, and a single tear glistened as if it held all the unspoken worries of the night. The Hashiras—and Tengen’s wives—gathered around you, each reacting in their own distinctive way.

Giyu Tomioka’s Perspective:

Giyu’s usually calm, inscrutable expression shifted the moment he noticed your injury. He approached slowly, every measured step heavy with concern. “Y/N,” he said in his low, steady tone, “please, let me help.” Internally, Giyu felt a quiet surge of protectiveness. Though he rarely voiced his emotions, his mind raced with worry over why you’d hide your pain. He suspected you might be trying to shield someone from the fallout—a thought that made his heart ache in silent understanding.

Shinobu Kocho’s Perspective:

Ever the perceptive one, Shinobu’s gentle eyes took in every detail—the way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the slight tremor in your hands, the bruise that told a story of sudden violence. “My dear,” she murmured softly as she knelt beside you, offering a delicate handkerchief. Her mind whirled with concern and curiosity. “There’s more to this than meets the eye,” she thought, recalling the hint of a struggle in your hesitant glance. Determined to soothe your pain without prying too much, she resolved to help you tend to your wounds—both physical and emotional.

Kyojuro Rengoku’s Perspective:

Kyojuro’s fiery spirit softened at the sight of you in distress. He practically bounded over, his usual exuberance tempered by genuine worry. “Y/N! I cannot bear to see you hurt!” he declared, voice brimming with passion. In his heart, the flame of protectiveness burned fiercely. He knew that you would never risk your well-being lightly—and if it meant defending another soul, you would do so without hesitation. Yet, the idea that you felt compelled to hide your truth stirred a mix of admiration and concern within him. “I will ensure you’re safe,” he vowed silently, his spirit ignited by the need to shield you from further harm.

Tengen Uzui’s Perspective:

With his flamboyant flair, Tengen strode into the room, his gaze instantly locking onto your injured face. “Oh my—what misadventure has befallen you?” he exclaimed, though his tone was laced with unmistakable care. In the glimmer of the overhead lanterns, he noted every detail—the bruise, the tear, the stubborn way you avoided his eyes. Tengen’s mind raced with protective instincts and a tinge of possessiveness that he rarely admitted aloud. “No one shall harm you again, not while I’m here,” he promised, his dramatic tone softening as he regarded you with a mixture of pride and worry.

Mitsuri Kanroji’s Perspective:

Mitsuri’s heart immediately went out to you. The sight of your pain—a token of your selflessness—filled her with both love and anxiety. She rushed forward, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out to gently brush away a stray tear. “Sweetheart, why won’t you let us take care of you?” she asked in a tender whisper, her voice warm and nurturing. Internally, Mitsuri’s mind was a storm of emotions: admiration for your bravery, sorrow at your silence, and a fierce desire to mend not just your wounds but your heart. She promised herself that she would hold you close until you felt safe enough to share your burden.

Muichiro Tokito’s Perspective:

Typically reserved and often aloof, Muichiro’s eyes nonetheless flickered with concern when he saw your condition. He paused at a distance before stepping forward in his characteristically understated manner. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “I noticed something was amiss.” Although his words were few, his thoughts were anything but indifferent. Muichiro analyzed every small detail—each bruise and hesitation—wondering why you had chosen silence over confession. In his reflective mind, he resolved that once your wounds were tended to, you might find the strength to trust him with your truth.

Obanai Iguro’s Perspective:

Obanai’s sharp gaze hardened momentarily as he took in the sight of your injuries. There was a flicker of irritation mixed with concern; he could not fathom why you would hide something so important. “You mustn’t keep this to yourself,” he said, his tone clipped but earnest. Underneath his stern exterior, Obanai’s heart pounded with the fierce desire to protect you from any further harm. He suspected that your silence was meant to spare someone else—and though that choice might have been noble, he feared it would only invite greater danger. He vowed internally that he would not let anyone, bully or otherwise, threaten your well-being.

Sanemi Shinazugawa’s Perspective:

Sanemi’s rough demeanor cracked as he took in the evidence of your struggle. His first instinct was anger—anger that you had been hurt and anger that you’d chosen to hide it. “Damn it, Y/N,” he grumbled, stepping closer with a protective scowl, “you shouldn’t have done that.” Beneath his abrasive words lay a genuine care that few ever witnessed. He bristled at the thought of a bully taking advantage of your quiet sacrifice, and though his approach was blunt, his intent was clear: you were too precious to be left in harm’s way. His internal promise was simple—he would ensure no one ever dared to hurt you again.

Gyomei Himejima’s Perspective:

Gyomei’s deep, resonant voice was filled with sorrow as he approached. “Child, your pain weighs on my soul,” he intoned softly, his enormous presence radiating a calm reassurance. His eyes, wise and empathetic, took in every mark of your suffering with a reverence usually reserved for sacred things. Gyomei believed that every wound told a story—and tonight, your silent narrative spoke of a courage that demanded both healing and understanding. He knelt beside you with gentle care, promising silently that your spirit would be nurtured as diligently as your body was mended.

Makio (Tengen’s Wife) – Her Perspective:

Makio was the first of Tengen’s wives to step forward, pragmatic yet fiercely tender in her concern. “Y/N, you know you can’t hide from us,” she chided softly, her eyes both warm and inquisitive. In her mind, the marks on your face were not just signs of a physical scuffle but evidence of your brave heart. She admired your instinct to protect a friend, yet worried about the toll it was taking on you. “Let me help patch you up,” she offered, determined to ease your pain before you could even consider keeping secrets that might only lead to more hurt.

Suma (Tengen’s Wife) – Her Perspective:

Suma approached with a quiet, calming presence. “I understand that you wanted to protect someone,” she said gently, placing a soothing hand on your arm. Her calm exterior belied a mind that raced with both empathy and concern. Suma knew that behind your silent defiance lay the weight of responsibility and unspoken fear—the fear that revealing the truth might unleash a tempest of emotions in those who loved you fiercely. “Please, trust us enough to let us care for you,” she murmured, her voice as soft as a lullaby, promising that no harm would come from honesty among those who cherished you.

Hinatsuru (Tengen’s Wife) – Her Perspective:

Hinatsuru’s eyes shone with maternal warmth as she gently took your hand. “Your sacrifice is not lost on us,” she said, her tone imbued with a tender urgency. In her heart, she understood the delicate balance between protecting others and protecting oneself. Hinatsuru worried that your reticence might lead you down a dangerous path of silent suffering. “Sometimes, being cared for is the strongest defense,” she whispered, as she carefully inspected your injuries. Her thoughts danced between admiration for your valor and a desperate need to shield you from the internal torment of keeping secrets.

Epilogue (Y/N’s Moment):

Surrounded by those who cherished you, each with their own hopes, fears, and promises to keep you safe, you felt the weight of isolation begin to lift. Though the truth of that day’s events still trembled on the edge of your tongue, the unwavering love in every gaze urged you toward trust. In that shared moment—where fierce protectiveness met gentle understanding—you realized that no secret was too heavy when borne by hearts united in care.

[muddyorbsblr]

relinquish the crown: under one condition pt1

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 1, Episode 14; immediately after 'what could be done'

Summary: With Prince Damien's proposal looming over like a dark omen, Loki rushes to do what must be done to save you from a life of misery in Alfheim

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: themes of incest (he's adopted but still); Odin

Things to be aware of: stressed Loki hours; this is basically 'terms of surrender' (Prologue, Part 1) in Loki's POV

There were too many emotions, too many thoughts, coursing through Loki's entire system right at this moment.

Anger. Over how seemingly excited Odin sounded over the idea of finally getting to enact the bloody tradition that he'd agreed to, so that his own father, the former Allfather Bor, would approve of his marriage to Frigga. To determine his 'rightful' heir meant to have all eligible individuals engage in a battle. Where it could only end with death or surrender.

A somber acceptance, that if he were not here right at this moment, making known the decision that would change the very course of not just his life, but yours as well? Had he not just announced that he wished to relinquish his claim to the throne? If he were to engage in the barbaric tradition, then he would have to come to terms with the knowledge that that duel with his brother would be the day he met his demise. And he would leave you behind, vulnerable to any lecherous suitor that might win Odin's favor and approval for your hand.

Fear of what could and would happen had that duel come to fruition.

But overpowering them all by a wide margin…fear of what was to come next. Out of this conversation. Out of his surrender and his terms for it.

The god would leave this room with everyone in his life, including you, thinking differently of him than when he entered. They would all know, you would know, of the affection that he'd been harboring for you for well over a decade, ever since that first encounter within the palace halls where you put your dagger to his throat.

Norns, she might very well do it again after today, he thought to himself. And you would very well be in your right to after your mind completes a lecherous image and all your memories with Loki would be painted with a starkly different brush. He was quite certain that earlier today, in the library, had been the last time he would ever hear you utter the words "I love you" towards him. Now that you knew the true weight of the sentiment when it came from him.

And still he knew, with every fiber of his being, that the only right thing for him to do was to stay this course. Even if it meant shattering what relationship he had with you in the process, even if it meant you resenting him for making you his wife. For it meant that at least you would be able to resent him in the safety of your home. It meant you would be free to live your life the way you saw fit.

He could be content with this reality. And he would simply love you enough for the both of you.

"My son, I beg your pardon?" Odin spoke, visibly perturbed at the words he'd just heard the god of mischief utter, brows knitting together and the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more prominent with the action.

"There will be no need for a ceremony to determine your heir, Father," Loki repeated, speaking slower than he did when he entered the war room. He had no intentions to be misunderstood from speaking in a rush. Not in a moment as crucial as this. "Because I choose to surrender my claim to the throne. I relinquish my status as an eligible heir."

"Brother, are you certain of your decision?"

He looked at Thor from across the table, a mixture of concern and relief coloring the blond god's expression. For as long as they had known each other, Thor had always known him to be calculating and careful even when his actions seemed far from it. Even when others believed him to be impulsive. And this particular move, to an untrained eye, would seem like the rash thing to do in such a situation. To commit an irreversible action in the name of avoiding the showdown that would yield even more permanent and irreversible consequences.

And much as Loki would often jokingly refer to his brother as an 'oaf', he had his moments. This seemed well on its way to becoming one of them, with the just slightly elder god undoubtedly coming to the realization that no…Loki did not impulsively come to this decision just moments ago. He knew exactly what he was giving up and he was determined to stay this course regardless. His question of whether he was certain was simply to avoid misconstruction from any parties.

Loki simply nodded at his brother slowly, already dreading the next few moments as he would begin to be questioned of his motivations.

The Allfather spoke next. "Loki, this is not a decision to be made lightly. You cannot rescind your offer once I have accepted it. Do you understand, my son?"

He tried to picture another way to somehow liberate you from your inevitable betrothal to the wretched elven prince of Alfheim. One that didn't involve him potentially shattering your perception of him irreparably. Short of helping you outright flee the realm to escape Damien, there truly was nothing. And even if somehow you succeeded in fleeing, there was the risk of you being charged with treason for betraying or neglecting your duties to the Realm.

His mother was right. This was the only way.

"I understand perfectly, Father," he answered, taking every ounce of his strength to not allow his tone to waver or tremble as he spoke. "I will hereby relinquish my claim to the throne of Asgard." The raven-haired god clenched his fist under the table, his nail digging in to the skin of his palm as he took a deep breath before uttering the words that would seal his fate. The ones that would turn him into the lech that he'd been rumored to be for eons. "If my terms are accepted."

The next words that Thor spoke worsened at the constricting of his heart. Made even harsher with his relieved and jovial tone. "I will agree to whatever terms you state, Brother, if it means I do not have to face losing you in battle," he stated, so quickly it was as if the words were racing to come out of his mouth. "Name your terms.

You will regret your words in a few short moments, Brother. I swear it. I can only hope you can try to see from where my intentions truly lay, Loki thought to himself. It didn't take long for him to launch into the speech he prepared to present his case, bracing himself for the incoming derision. The seething judgment. The hatred.

"I wish to return our family's reign to its former glory. I've traversed the Nine Realms and the consensus is definite: They think our power weak ever since Father rose to the throne. At least those generations that had been around to witness its former glory for themselves. The people not only feared us, but they respected us." He turned to face Odin, a mixture of concern and displeasure evident in the elder god's eye. "Now they question your leadership since you were so willing to break an age old practice. They question my claim as legitimate due to my Jotun blood. I wish to dispel any qualms about future generations."

"Loki," his father spoke, caution rife in his voice. As if he were warning him to choose his next words very carefully. "What are you implying?"

Is it not obvious, Father? All these centuries of believing me capable of such mischief and depravity and you choose this moment to feign ignorance? To strive to see me as anything more than the title you thrust upon me? he thought to himself sardonically. Very well then, if you must insist on keeping to this facade, then you've left me with no other choice than to lean in. Become the depraved lech you allowed the Realms to believe that I am.

"Surely you do not mean to say that--"

"Y/N," he cut his father off, digging his nail further into the palm of his hand as he darted a glance at his brother and saw the utter  heartbreak and betrayal in his expression. Keep going, the rational, calculating voice in his head urged him. They may all despise you at the end of this, but remember what you are doing this for. Remember who you are doing this for. For her. For your fated. Keep her safe. No matter the cost. "Wed her to me, so that we may restore our family's reign's integrity and show the people that we know when to break, and when to keep, tradition. That we have the wisdom to do so."

"Brother there was a reason for that tradition to be abolished. So that Father and future generations may choose who to wed out of love." Thor's response tore at him further, forcing the god to fight back tears as he held on tight to the secret that he'd held for years. Wanting nothing more than to hold back the very words he swore to himself he would never utter aloud in the presence of anyone.

"Isn't that exactly what I'm doing?" He couldn't look at anyone in the eye. So he chose to instead look past them, focusing on the wall to keep his expression as invariable as he could manage. "I am choosing who to wed…out of love?" He took another breath, now looking his brother straight in the eye and feeling his heart sink at the blazing rage he saw in the now icy blue orbs, his fists laid on the table as his entire body shook from processing the words. "You said to name my terms. That no price is too steep," Loki kept on, holding on to hope that somehow this plan of his and his mother's would succeed and at the very least burning this bridge would not have been for nothing.

If this is the price for your safety, little Princess, then it is a price I will readily pay.

"I will relinquish my claim to ascend Father's throne after he passes, in exchange for Y/N as my wife," he finished, praying to the Norns that he would hear anything other than a resounding 'no' from either god.

"So that you may ascend the throne with her and become King when I die?" Thor fumed, visibly looking as if it took all his strength not to lunge across the table and strangle his brother with his bare hands.

You both would wish it could be this simple, wouldn't you? Loki mulled over silently. Somberly. If only it were.

"I will not be King," he declared, more than ready to put his words into writing if need be. "I will be her consort. She will rule when you pass, unchallenged and with my unconditional support. As her husband."

Thor took a moment to carefully look at his brother's features and right then there was a glimmer of an epiphany in his rageful eyes. Finally you see it, Brother. I would not have jeopardized my life and my relationship with all of you so flippantly. This is not for power or cowardice or lust. This is just as I have said in its purest form. This is relinquishment. This is surrender. This is sacrifice.

"I did not want to lose you in battle, Brother. And I still do not wish to." Loki could finally breathe a touch easier knowing that, at least for now, his brother still wished to see him live. "But Y/N will not understand any of this. That this was once our ancestry's tradition."

He felt a soft smile gracing his face, his mind wandering to fonder memories with you as he said his next words. "She's more brilliant than you give her credit for, dear Brother." It truly took him by surprise that he'd been allowed to present his case for this long, and he cautiously took that as a sign that perhaps this plan truly could work. That his claim to the throne was enough to trade for your hand. In the name of your safety. One last push. Just to finish your case, he told himself. "She's quite intelligent. I can guarantee you that our children will be a beautiful mix of your strength, Sif's ferocity, and our combined wits and wisdom. You've said it many times before: No man will ever be good enough for her, and you've also said that I am the best man you know in all the Nine Realms, I--" His breath caught as he uttered his next confession. "I am not good enough for Y/N, on that we can both agree. But wouldn't you also agree that among all the men in the Realms, I'll come closest?"

The next few moments had Loki's heart thundering in his chest. First Odin gave Thor a single nod, as if telling him that ultimately this decision was to now fall in the thunder god's hands. He would defer the decision to your father. And then he saw the thoughts beginning to form in his brother's mind.

How he knew in his heart that your current suitor would have no qualms or concern about your happiness, and would most likely tear you away from the Realm to isolate you from those that loved you most. How Prince Damien would swear no form of fealty or fidelity to you and how this courtship was simply a play for the power that many coveted across the Realms.

And how despite the way it churned his stomach, the thought of being the one to sign away your privilege to marry for love, at least he would do it knowing that it would be to betroth you to someone that had historically cared for you when you yourself would forget to. Someone that came close to bridling your recklessness when he chose not to match it. Someone that did his best to cater to your needs.

Someone that would move the Realms themselves if that was what she asked of me, he swore to himself.

Finally he heard it. His brother's sigh as he weighed the options and made the decision that would set into motion the shattering of your relationship with not just him, but with quite possibly every person in this room.

"Fetch Lady Y/N," he told the guard. "Fetch my daughter."

A/N: Well I can't believe it…we're finally here. I finally got this series to get back to where it started…at Loki's surrender. I decided to split this into two parts since the chapter as a whole was nearly 6k words long, so the other half of 'under one condition' will be coming this weekend 🎉🎉

On the writing block at the moment is a chapter from 'one look and they'll know', so there's also that to look forward to, and then after that (hopefully) I'm finally starting 'back to you' after idek how long I've been teasing that one.

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

[vennilavee]

part of this universe: drabble 1 ; drabble 2

karasu and the rest of the bllk boiiz are in their early 20s here. ill let you decide how old oc is but she's older than karasu

Practice has long ended, with most of the players already having left the training facility. Karasu and just a few others are the only ones who remain. Along with some of the staff. Along with you. 

The light in your office is shining brightly, a stark difference to the rest of the offices you share a hallway with. He’s certain if he walked past your office, he’d see you rubbing your eyes tiredly. Chewing on your bottom lip, your gloss faded hours ago. Your habits are not admirable by any means- being the first one to the facility and the last one to leave. Are you even taking care of yourself?

He shouldn’t care, not really. Karasu has only shared longing glances and secret smiles with you. When he catches your eye, he wants to confess the entire world to you. When you inevitably look away, he wants your gaze on him once more. 

“Hey,” Karasu says, leaning against the doorway of your office. He grins when you jump in your seat at the sudden noise, eyes flitting to him. 

“You scared me,” you reply, hand at your heart.

“Sorry for the scare, sweetheart,” he says, ignoring your eye roll, “Did ya know it’s nearly eight PM? On a Friday night?”

“Thanks for the update, I had no idea,” you say flatly, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn, “You people are killing me.”

“I was good at the last game,” he protests, walking past the threshold of the doorway, “No funny business from me.”

“Yup, you’re the team’s resident good boy, aren’t ya, Karasu-san?” you reply, shutting the lid of your laptop down and stuffing your things inside your backpack haphazardly. You can’t wait to get out of here and bury yourself in bed. And remain dead to the world for the next twelve to sixteen hours.

A light crackling sound fills the air as you bend over to crack your unused back and your unused knees. It’s a bad habit, you think. To sit for hours without getting up once to stretch your legs. How ironic, working for a soccer team and being the most inactive that you’ve ever possibly been.

“Do they keep you in here like a dog, or what?” he remarks, wordlessly taking your backpack for you and slinging it over his shoulders. It’s not the first time- typically, you protest that you’re perfectly capable of carrying your own things- but today, you’re struggling just to keep up with Karasu’s pace.

The silence is nice as you both walk shoulder to shoulder cut through the field to leave. It’s a little 

chilly, a light breeze caressing you. Pushing you a little closer to Karasu’s warmth. Your footsteps crunch in the grass.

“I used to play, you know,” you say wistfully, stopping in your tracks. The feel of the grass against your shoes feels unfamiliar. “I could’ve beaten you in my prime.”

“Of course you could’ve,” he says teasingly,  “But do you miss it?”

You remain silent, the playfulness in your eyes turning into something more somber as your gaze veers off towards the goal posts. Then back at him.

“What do you know about former soccer stars who lost their scholarships because of chronic ACL tears anyway?” 

But there’s no bite in your voice, only longing. You kick a stray rock forlornly, unable to meet his surprised, wide eyes.

There’s pity in his eyes, you’re sure of it.

“Wanna play?”

That makes you snap your head toward him, his raised eyebrows throwing you off when instead you expected pity. 

“What? It’s been nearly fifteen years since I last even touched a soccer ball, I swore I wouldn’t-”

“Aww, c’mon, maybe another time then? I’ll hold ya to it.”

A gentle night breeze ruffles his hair. He looks handsome, you think. With a sliver of the moon casting a halo on him.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, “Yeah, maybe.”

You’re quiet the rest of the way across the field. Karasu wonders if he’s upset you, but the slump of your shoulders is relaxed and you’re still walking relatively close to him. Close enough that sometimes your fingers brush without meaning to. It keeps him warm.

And what a well kept secret. That you used to play soccer. Did anyone know? Was he the only one who knew? Is that what drew you to public relations with soccer clubs? So that you could be as close to the field as you could without actually playing?

He imagines it’s torture.

And why did you stop playing for fifteen years? Karasu can’t imagine a worse fate than being told he could never play again. It would be the same as losing his legs as it would be to never play soccer again.

“Thank you for waiting up for me,” you murmur. There’s something soft and tired in your eyes. Your walls are down, unguarded in a way they usually aren’t. Perhaps it’s the late hour. Perhaps it’s him.

“Let me drive you home,” he says, not leaving you room to protest. But because it’s you, you find a way.

“No, it’s only a twenty-five minute train ride,” you say, waving him off,  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Let me drive you home,” Karasu repeats, “Or else I’m taking your bag hostage.”

You laugh. A smile tugs on his lips. Another gust of wind. You shiver.

“I guess it is a little chilly…” you concede.

“Good girl,” Karasu grins.

You shiver again, this time for a different reason.

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hi! May I please request some angst?

Marcille,Falin, and Laios (separate) with an isekai'd terminally ill s/o who needs to go back to their world in order to get treatment, since their disease is incredibly advanced, by their standards, and not easy for magic to handle.

However, the three want to save their s/o, but at the same time doesn't want them to go back to their world.

Aye a somber request but one i can do. After All, The whole worlds a stage. For some it is a comedy, Others an adventure, and yet still for others it is a tragedy. But all must play there part one way or another.

When you first arrived marcille was in awe, Not only did another entire reality exist, but you had apparently somehow been teleported from there?! She had questioned you for hours about the world, about what it was like. Fascinated that it was a world of technology in a vaguely similar fashion to the dwarves machinery, yet even more advanced. How it was a world without monsters and only had regular animals. How it was a world inhabited only by People like you, Nothing but tallmen (though in reality you and the rest of the people from your world werent tallmen, they just happened to be the most similar to your people). But strangest of all it had no magic (or so you thought), The idea seemed foreign to her and she couldnt even imagine what it could possibly be like.

You two had grown closer and fallen in love and marcille viewed you as a gift from the divine...but like all divinity they are cruel and can change there whims in a split second. It started off with a small cough, neither of you were particularly worried about it, sicknesses come and go after all. But the cough over time slowly progressed and got worse and worse, it eveolved into a tightness in the chest and struggle breathing. you became unable to do most physical things as your condition worsened, Then the dry coughing grew worse when one day you coughed into your hand and when you pulled it away it was soaked in blood.

Marcille tried everything she could, she had asked falin to do everything she could, but sadly to no avail as the healer couldnt seem to slow this disease. She asked laios for help who spent a small fortune of his newly aquired kingdoms gold to try and find you the best healers in the world to no avail. Marcille was at her wits end, she couldnt see you die. She had seen so many people she loved and cared about die already, she couldnt loose you too. However one day you brought up an idea, one that broke her heart almost as much as the idea of your death did. "i think...the only ones who could help....me..are doctors from...my world.."

Marcille begged and pleaded, she didnt want to loose you that way either...but she knew deep down that there was no magic here that could help. The both of you knew that with the magic of this world, your death was certain and you needed to go back to be treated...but...but what if...what if marcille used magic not of this world.

That dark beckoning call came to her once more, its powerful embrace called out to her, it whispered gilded words that dripped a hopeful venom. It asked of her how far would she be willing to go to save the one she loved? If her true desire was to save you, she would do anything right?....right?

She had already used its power once, what harm would using it once more do? Maybe it could save you? maybe it could fix this disease and you and her could live happily ever after. Marcille had already called upon these dark ruinous powers before, it would be so simple to do it again? Who cares about the law, of morality, of the dangers this magic poses...Would marcille truly wield that eldritch power once more to save you? consequences be damned...right?

Your arrival was incredibly to falin, the idea of a whole new world of wonder, of things to see and do, a whole new world of beauty she had never seen before made her giddy. You and her would sit up for hours as you told her stories of your world, of just how different it was than her world, how the people were, how life was. And though there were many sad stories, Falin always found it comforting to know that so many good things happened in this other world to, that no matter how grim the world seemed. There would always be people being happy and living there lives and trying to make the world a better place, it made her smile. The two of you grew closer and eventually you confessed your feelings for her, however she giggled saying how she had planned on doing the same as well. The two of you getting together as you two travelled together after laios's ascension to be the new golden kingdoms king. However, Death once more made its presence known in the door of falins home, but instead of seeing her once more it decided to come calling the one person she hoped most it would never see for years.

The coughing was the first sign something was wrong, Falin was a gifted healer and so she used her magic to try and get rid of it...but it didnt work, no matter what she did that cough wouldnt go away, at most only disapearing for a day or so then coming right back. Its progression only getting worse and worse as she frantically tried to out heal the symptoms, each time she would try to heal you she would be in tears. messy tear drops falling down her cheeks as she would use her healing magic over and over and over till she herself would throw up from magic sickness.

By the time you had started coughing up blood you had to force falin to stop trying to heal you, you both knew it wasnt going to work and that she was just hurting herself and that broke your heart. the two of you laying together as you both sobbed at all of this..it wasnt fair, it wasnt right. How could something so awful happen to such an amazing and loving person....falin couldnt believe it could happen. Eventually you told her one night you had an idea. "Falin...i think the only way ill survive is if i go back to my world...and get help there."

It broke falins heart, because she knew deep down you were right...that the only hope you had was to go back to your world and get help there. Falin was quiet for awhile, her mind racing before she softly takes a hold of your hands. "Ok...if thats the case...IM GOING WITH YOU!"

She shouts confusing you, asking her if she is serious!? would she just leave this world behind? her nodding saying that your her world and wherever you go she wants to be right there with you. And besides, she cant loose you..

When you first showed up laios was excited about the possibility to learn about all new monsters in a whole new reality....however when you told him that monsters werent a thing he couldnt help but admit how your world seemed boring.

Despite that he adored you as the two of you grew closer and closer and eventually got together. You ruling the golden kingdom alongside him. The two of you ruling the kingdom together happily, Despite laios endless hunger and curse towards monsters he was happy. you help him deal with the stress of ruling the kingdom, But perhaps fate had one last curse in store for laios...or perhaps this was some aspect of the winged lions curse on him itself.

You started off with coughing, Laios noting it was likely a cold or something and asking falin or marcille to use healing magic to help..but it didnt work. You only continued to grow worse and laios grew more and more worried. He looked through his books about monsters trying to find something in them that might heal you. He had you drink multiple brothes, eat mixtures of vegetables and herbs, bath in some monster blood but nothing was helping. None of the medicinal properties of the various monster parts he would hire people to go get would work.

By the time you had started coughing up blood, laios had all but given up hope. Nothing was working, no matter what he did, no monster remedies could help, neither marcille or falins magic could help..and his own healing magic wasnt great. He would just sit by your bedside and cry into the sheets as he held you. Eventually though you spoke to him. "Laios...i think the only way ill live..is if i go back...the doctors of my world are more advanced...its the best chance i have."

It tore laios to pieces to hear this, he hated the idea of loosing you. he had almost lost his sister, and he was so afraid to loose you too. But he knew you were right, it was the best chance you had. He would join you if he could...but he couldnt, he had to rule over the golden kingdom. There was nobody else that could rule it in his place, He had to stay behind..and it ate him alive. He told you that he would always be yours, and that he would always think of you no matter what. And as long as you lived, thats all that mattered to him.

[mi-i-zori]

Breathe

CoD - Nikto x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS : Nikto drinks blood like a starved beast.

WARNINGS : NSFW - 18+. Beware, this is kind of unhinged. Canon-typical violence, blood (Reader has periods - emphasis on period blood), Nikto (a warning in himself), blood/period kink (?), poetic smut, fluff.

Author’s Note : I have no idea why I keep using poetic sentences whenever I try to write smut, but hey. Guess its just how I am. A filthy romantic at heart.

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

Main Masterlist

Nikto licks blood off his fingers on the daily like a starved beast, savouring a taste he knows will never fully satiate his hunger.

It does not matter if the crimson nectar is his or not ; he keeps engraving its flavour deep into his mind. It leaves a warm, metallic feeling in the back of his throat - one similar to the one lining the surface of the gun that was repeatedly shoved past his teeth after its bullets were lodged in-between his ribs, the thick ropes circling his wrists harvesting his own, personal flavour directly from his veins.

Both life and death flow past his tongue, carving countless nightmares in the few hours of sleep weighing heavy on his subconscious - dragging a never ending series of shuddering breaths up his oesophagus whenever he wakes.

He can never escape them, for reality is just as bitter as his dreams. So he drowns it it blood, gunpowder and alcohol, turning away from the shredded screams coming from his reflection in the mirror.

Until that moment.

Your face is pulled into a grimace as you tell him about the way one of your stupid coworkers shamelessly blabbered about how dirty he thinks period blood is, filling your head with somber thoughts at the idea that yours is quickly approaching.

You don’t see how his eyes light up when they fall upon the date circled in red on the calendar of your phone.

And it is only when his lips meet your bleeding walls for the first time, lapping at the tears running down the inside of your thighs with a newfound reverence blossoming on his tongue, that the spectre in his head finally goes silent.

You look like divine absolution, he thinks, watching with rapt attention as moans flow from your lips like a holy river. Lust fills his mind, body and soul as he wonders if edging you further would allow him to taste the stars running through your veins. Would the world end up falling apart with you ?

The thought of the Earth shattering like glass against the echo of your climax fuels the fire burning in his stomach.

So he keeps staining his mouth red with your blood and slick. War-torn hands hold your legs still around his head as his fingers pull at your flesh, moulding it to his will - and he growls loudly against your core, the waves of a supernova bursting through your entire body as a new orgasm shakes the very foundations of your universe.

Is it the third ? The fourth ? The fifth ? You stopped counting a few seconds after his mouth first latched on the sacred flower blooming between your legs, too lost in the song of your own pleasure.

Nikto doesn’t need anything more to find his own release. He then crashes on top of you as you both fall from your high, lips sharing the last remnants of your erratic, scorching breaths.

He lays there for the rest of the night, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of your heartbeat - your divinity dancing on the back of his tongue.

The constellations lining your mind call out to him as he sleeps, flickering with the promise of finally carrying him away from the ruins of his heart. They light up his bones from below the thorns, and he would gladly sacrifice what is left of himself if it meant you could cradle them against your breast.

The warm softness of your skin soothes the pain still lingering in his scars, and he subconsciously cages your bare form in his arms as he drifts to the world of dreams.

He can finally breathe.