#but what if it does. what if someone went in and stole our fucking WOODEN CRATES and RUSTIC SET DRESSING

[paranoidgemsbok]

i really hope the craft show tent doesnt blow away overnight

[moral-turpitudes]

Reap What You Sow:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Sight Mentions of Blood/Gore, Fluff.

Word Count: 3,273

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here.

Summary: Y/N is accused of stealing a check from the company, resulting in her being fired. But only after a tense situation, does her boss and longtime crush Thomas find out the truth.

It was nearing midnight as Y/N walked through the shop, her heels clicking on the uneven wooden floors as Linda finished the nights paperwork, a nervous look on her face as she shuffled them away.

Y/N paid no mind as she sat down at her desk near Thomas’ office. Tapping her pen nervously as she glanced at her wristwatch. They were supposed to be here by now. All of the Shelby brothers were supposed to be shouting and running through the shops still high on their victory against one of the other gangs in town. They were supposed to be sighing in relief and pouring the boys drinks, but only silence ensued as Linda crept towards the company safe which she’d sneakily found the combination to while going through Y/N’s desk one night. With a quick movement, she unlocked the heavy door, yanking it open and rifling through the stack of blank checks and tearing off a slip.

“Are you alright Linda? Do you need help?” Y/N asked as she saw her walk quickly back to her seat.

“I’m fine, just had to move around the shop a bit. Nerves right?” She said while fiddling with the slip of paper hidden in her hand, out of sight from her curious coworker.

“Yeah, I understand. They should be back by now. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure Arthur will go straight to you when he arrives though.” She said with a small smile.

Linda nodded and quickly wrote the check out, shoving it in her purse before giving Y/N a small stack of papers.

“I’m going to run a letter to the mail, I’ll be back.” She said, walking out the door before Y/N could speak.

“Weird.” She mumbled to herself as she went back to going through the papers Linda handed her, all ones Thomas needed to sign-off on in the morning.

The cold air crept through Linda’s dress as she walked with her arms clutched around her to keep warm, the mailbox just in her sights as she remembered what she had to do.

“I’ll pay you if you keep quite about us alright love? It’ll only upset Arthur if he finds out. It could ruin our chances of being together if he’s not dealt with.” She’d said to her lover the night before Thomas’ plan went into effect. Tonight they were planning to take down a troublesome gang that strolled into town, but they were none the wiser to who she’d been fooling around with right under Arthur’s nose. The man was one of the gangs hit men, with the precise instruction from Linda to take Arthur out so she could run off with him instead.

The car nearby sent a shiver down Linda’s spine as she dropped the check into the mailbox, hoping it would all be over soon with no one suspecting her. She even used a blank check thinking no one could trace it, but little did she know just how well Shelby Company Limited kept their finances. As the car neared, she hoped Arthur wasn’t inside, meaning her plan had worked and her payment would be sent. But only time would tell.

With quick steps she went back into the shop, seeing Y/N walking out of Thomas’ office as she’d placed the remaining paperwork on his desk.

“Did ya find it okay? I thought you’d left for the night.” Y/N said.

“Everything is fine Y/N. Were you able to get those papers sorted?” She asked, changing the subject as the boys walked through door looking worse for wear.

“Yes.” Y/N answered quickly as she followed Linda’s wide-eyed gaze to the front door.

“Y/N go get the first aid kit. Now!” Thomas demanded as he sat Arthur down in a nearby chair, John helping unbutton his shirt as Finn grabbed the whiskey from Thomas’ office.

“Drink up brother this is going to hurt.” Finn said, holding the bottle to his lips as he chugged the brown liquid.

“My god what happened?” Y/N heard Linda ask as she gathered the first aid kit with shaking hands.

“Those fuckers shot me, one of the fellows almost shot me in the head damn near.” Arthur said through gritted teeth as Thomas looked at the gunshot wound to his abdomen.

“Here Tom.” Y/N said quickly, handing him the kit and crouching near Arthur to hold his hand that Linda was surprisingly not holding.

“It’ll be alright, deep breaths.” Y/N said squeezing his hand a bit to take his mind off Thomas extracting the bullet.

The room filled with Arthur’s shouts of agony as Thomas worked to dislodge it, his blood spurting out every so often from the movements of the tools.

“Linda are you alright?” John asked as he saw her face turn pale. He was holding Arthur back and helpless at the point.

“Yeah. Arthur? Love? It’s me. I want to stay but I’ll be no use on the floor. I’ll go home to be get things ready for you. Stay strong love.” She said quickly, her face sparkling with sweat as she fought back nausea from the sight of her almost ex-husbands blood. A panicked feeling shooting through her veins as she realized her plan was falling apart.

“Oh alright, just go!” He shouted drunkenly as he grew frustrated at the situation. His mind trying to piece together why he was targeted out of all of them as Thomas stopped the bleeding and stitched him up.

“I don’t know Tom, I don’t know why they aimed at me....why he aimed at me I don’t know....” He said, drifting off as he grew tired from the ordeal.

“It’s alright we’ll figure it out in the morning.” Thomas said, helping his brother up as John got the door and helped him into the car.

“Where’s John taking him?” Y/N asked, wiping her hands on her dress as she stared at the bloody mess on the floor.

“Home. He can rest there more than here. Thank you for looking after the shop with Linda.” He said, going to clean up the mess.

“It’s no problem Tommy. Here I can clean that...if you need a moment to rest.” She said, grabbing a cloth near her and dousing it in some of the whiskey.

Thomas stepped back as she wiped the rest of the blood away, her hair falling out of its loose bun as she ringed the last of the blood off the towel and into the small pail that contained the bullet.

“Are you hurt or anything?” She asked, her heart racing as she realized he’d been staring.

“Just a few scratches. Don’t worry about it love.” He said, lighting a cigarette and staring into her eyes. Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up as she looked back towards her desk, the old butterflies she’d had tucked away for the man resurfacing as of late.

“Well if everything’s done here, am I free to go?” She asked.

“Mhmm.” He said, walking towards his office as she gathered her things. His mind racing with why his brother was shot out of all of them. If anything he thought he would’ve been the first on their hit list.

“I’ve left the paperwork from today on your desk if you feel like signing them. Goodnight Tommy.” She said giving him a small smile.

“Thank you, good night love.” He said, his lips turning up slightly as he watched her walking out the door.

The next morning, Michael had came into his office urgently, with a stack of checks in his hand.

“One of them are missing Tom. Wasn’t me but it was recent. I can tell because we just wrote one today and the one before it is gone. See.” He said showing him the checkbook and where the sequence of numbers hadn’t lined up.

“Well who the fuck stole a company check then aye? Only three people know the code and that’s you, Polly, and Y/N.” He said, his heart aching at the thought of her doing something like that when he already paid her more than she’d expected.

“You want me to call a meeting?” Michael asked, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

“Yeah. Whoever did that probably knows about Arthur.” He said, his suspicion growing from last nights events.

“What’s wrong?” Polly asked as they all sat around the large table in the betting room.

“I have reasons to suspect someone has stolen a check from the company. Maybe used it to pay off someone perhaps.” He said, his eyes darting to everyone. Linda looked tired and Arthur sat near her with a pained expression.

“Would any one of you happen to know who it was? It was recent.” He said, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. The smoke filling the room almost as heavily as the tension.

“It wasn’t Michael or I.” Polly said, shaking her head.

“Y/N...do you know anything about this?” Thomas asked, his eyes much more serious than last night. They were frightening in the way they bore into her soul despite her not knowing what was going on.

“No. I haven’t got a clue Tommy.” She said, holding his gaze as her heart raced.

“Linda...you were also here last night. Do you know?” He asked looking at her with the same calculating eyes.

“No. All I remember is I stepped out for a moment to send off one of your letters and to catch some air before you all arrived.” She said.

“And Y/N was the only one at the shop during that time?” He asked.

“Yes.” She said, her eyes squinting slightly at the poor woman who hadn’t done a thing wrong the whole time she’d been there.

“Look, Tommy I-“ Y/N started to say before he interrupted her in a harsh tone.

“I don’t know why you stole it, but somehow my brother was shot the same night and you were the last person I saw in the shop. You were also the only person there while Linda was away. I have no other choice but to fire you, Y/N. Get your things and go.” He said. Y/N’s face paled and her eyes brimmed with tears as she silently left the room. She averted her gaze from everyone, instead looking at the floor as she packed her things and went out the door, thinking she’d never return to the shop again.

She tried to defend herself somewhat, knowing she didn’t have anything to do with what happened. But none of her words would speak sense into him right now. He was too quick to make judgements, but she wasn’t prepared for him to hurt her like he just did. She felt her body trembling and growing warmer as she slammed her car door shut, the sheer embarrassment and anger rising in her as she made her way home.

As the day drug on, Thomas searched with Michael for the check, calling post offices and banks to see where it could have been sent and who had written it.

“It was picked up this morning Mr. Shelby. Doesn’t look like your handwriting though. I’ll have it sent to you. You caught it just in time.” The woman said, glancing at the writing on the envelope.

“Alright, thank you ma’am.” He said before hanging up.

“What’d they say aye?” Arthur asked, wincing as he moved about in his chair.

“They’re sending it back. It was almost sent out so we caught it just in time. She mentioned it wasn’t my handwriting.” He said, lighting a cigarette.

“Christ. What’d Linda say aye? Did her letter get sent out? She said it was for a charity.” Arthur asked, remembering she mentioned a letter.

“I’ve never written one to any charities, not recently.” Thomas said as his eyes narrowed.

“What...do you think...Linda stole the check?” Arthur asked quietly, knowing she was right around the corner.

“It’s possible. I know she’s your wife and all but she hasn’t exactly been helpful around here lately. Also it’s not adding up.” He said, his mind racing as he thought about the meeting.

“Christ....so you think she wrote the letter and the check then? They would’ve found the letter.” Arthur said.

“Aye, I think the letter was a ruse. The woman from the post office never found a letter from us. Just the check.” He said.

“Well let’s fookin’ ask her then. I can’t sleep at night knowing me wife’s trying to kill me.” Arthur said, a bit of panic in his voice as he realized she may have put a hit on him.

Over the next hour Thomas and him discussed the possibility of it being her, or it being Y/N. But now all signs were pointing to the short-haired blonde woman who not only had a knack for stealing hearts, but for stealing checks as well as, the mailman handed Thomas the envelope that had cursive handwriting on it. Inside contained a check and a terribly forged signature, along with her distinctive handwriting. Thomas couldn’t help but look out into the evening sky as he realized he’d made the wrong decision once again.

Linda heard her name being called as Thomas stood out his office door after retrieving the mail, the tension in the air seeming to rise as she reluctantly made her way to him.

“I have something to discuss with you and Arthur.” He said, ushering her into his office.

He locked the door behind her and stood in front of it as Linda sat by her husband. His tone more hostile than it had been at the family meeting earlier.

“So Linda...I’ll ask this once again. Did you steal the check?”

Linda looked around the room nervously as Arthur carefully got up and moved towards the door, officially wary of the woman.

Seeing as she had no way out, she sighed. Kissing the dream of running off with her lover goodbye as she knew how this interrogation could go.

“Y-yes I stole the combination from Y/N and snuck in the safe. The check was...to a man.” She said.

“Well it wasn’t to me. Who the fuck was it made out to?” Arthur asked, clinching his fists.

Linda stared at him blankly as a tear fell down her cheek.

“A man named Isaac. He was in-in that gang. I....I’ve been seeing him.” She said, wiping the tears from her eyes as he stalked forward.

“You fookin’ what?.... No...You don’t just put a hit out on a Shelby. Especially not on your own fucking husband.” He said angrily as Thomas put a firm hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“I did though, Arthur. I wanted to run off with him. I wanted you gone so it would be easier for me to leave. But I can’t do that now.” She said.

“So you knew I’d be walking into a death trap aye? You could’ve gotten more than me killed.” He spat, leaning against the door.

Linda nodded as she tore her gaze from the man she once thought she loved, guilt and anger taking over as she stood up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Thomas said, watching her reach for the gun on his desk.

“I just want to leave this place.” She said looking at the gun in her hand as she raised it at Thomas.

“If you shoot us, it’ll make it harder to leave. Put the gun down.” He said sternly.

With a sigh, she lowered the gun and placed it on the table. Wiping her tears away with shaking hands as she walked to the door and stared at Arthur angrily. His hurt expression at her confession barely phasing her.

“Arthur...” She said, trying to grab his hand from the doorknob. With a quick movement he gripped her wrist tightly before speaking.

“Fuck you Linda. I’m glad you failed.” He said with a slightly evil smirk.

“What do you mean? He got the check.” She said, not noticing the post had sent it back.

“We got the check and saw it was in your handwriting...we also killed him after he shot me. He won’t need you where he’s going. On the bright side...now you can suffer alone.” He said, as Linda looked angrily at him. Tears streaming down her face silently as he let go of her wrist.

“Linda.” Thomas said, causing her to rip her gaze from her now ex-husband.

“You should get your things together. You’re fired.” He said.

“You can’t do that! What will I do about money? The house?” She asked.

“You should’ve thought about that before you tried to hire someone to kill my brother. Now go.” He said lighting a cigarette and pointing her out the door.

With one last glance, she ran out of the office. The commotion of her gathering all her things making the rest of the company look around nervously as she did a walk of shame out the door with her stuff. Shoving it all in her car and vowing to never come back.

As the company got back to work for the evening, Thomas quickly ran out too, barely uttering a goodbye to Polly before leaving.

“Where are you going at this hour?” She asked, looking up from her papers.

“I made a mistake Pol.” He said.

“I’m not surprised.” She said.

“Excuse me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“At least get the balls to tell her you’re sorry and that ya like her. Maybe bring her some flowers. We could all see it you know.” She said as he rubbed the back of his neck impatiently.

“Anything else to add Pol?” He asked.

“Don’t fire her again. She’s the one good thing that’s happened to this goddamned company.” She said as he nodded and went towards her flat.

When he arrived with flowers in hand, he didn’t expect to see her in such a state. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’d been crying. And her hair was unkept as she held a bottle of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Why the fuck are you here aye?” She asked, slightly slurring her words.

“It was Linda....Y/N. All along it was her. She didn’t mail a letter, she mailed a check. And that check almost got Arthur killed. I’m uh...sorry for all I did back there.” He said.

“What...did you bring me flowers to cheer me up? Fuck off.” She said before trying to shut the door.

“Wait.” He said, holding his free hand out to hold the door.

“I came here for three reasons alright?” He said.

“Well get to talking because it’s cold.” She said, throwing her cigarette over the steps into the damp ground.

“Alright...I wanted to apologize because I know what I did and you didn’t deserve that. And I wanted to offer you your job back.” He said.

“What’s the third aye? I may be tipsy but I can still count.” She said.

“That I like you. I know I’ve been a real bastard recently but I swear I do.” He said.

“What do you say aye?” He asked, holding the flowers out to her.

“Next time buy me roses. And...I’ll accept your offer, but it’s only because I like you too. Now are we going to stand around here all night or are you coming in?” She asked with a slight smirk.

He smiled for what seemed like the first time in forever, taking his cap off as she grabbed the flowers from him. Leading him inside where they would later spend the rest of the night and many other nights to come.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed just send me an ask/message! :)

[deniigi]

So @petrichordiam and I are menaces and giggled over our ideal dinluke flower shop AU for like 4 hrs and then I wrote this.

Title: murderer next door

Summary: Din works as a florist and Luke works as a bookseller and they’re both assassins trying to keep the other off their turf.

-------------

Two times now, Luke had crashed past that flower shop, and two times now, the fucker inside had taken out his mark. Now all Luke had to say about the whole thing was that it was too bad that he was going to have to kill the guy.

Han told him not to turn back. The mark was dead; the mark was gone. They weren’t fast enough this time, but there would be others.

Luke just couldn’t let it go, though. He had rent to pay, and McFloristApron over there was smashing through all his targets and making that nigh impossible—regardless of how many marks there were in the area.

Luke waited until Han had closed up shop for the night and remained there in the dark with his arm slung over the back of the chair in the backroom, surrounded by books. He rolled his shot of whiskey in its tumbler. The sound against the old wood table offered no comfort.

He stood up and left the glass to get his laptop.

He wasn’t losing to some florist, Han, sorry. Only one family could take innocuous cover on this street, and it was them.

 ---

McFlorist’s name wasn’t listed on the florist’s staff page, but then again, none of the people on that page had names. In fact, the website’s whole vibe was all wedding-chic until you clicked on the ‘staff and contacts’ tab. Then, it may as well have been a line of mugshots.

Luke squinted along the row of increasingly involved headgear until he got to someone with a reasonably-sized neck with no tats. The ladies on either side of him appeared to have sapped all the ink out of McFloristApron. He wore a mask over the lower half of his face and gave a stoic thumbs up to the camera.

Under his picture was the number fifteen.

Damn.

Luke was only making eight per pop. Who the hell was this guy eating up all the feeder fish, huh? Them lower division folks had to eat too, you know.

Well.

‘Lower division’ in a sense of the word. Being two times undercover wasn’t super glamorous, Luke had to say. But when your dad fucked it up for the first family, sometimes you had to take what you could get.

Luke pointed at Fifteen on the screen.

“You and me, pal,” he said. “You and me.”

 --

 Step one was to get paid first.

Luke chased down three marks on the other side of town to pay the rent and the medical bills for now. His hand’s new sleeve felt like a dream. It didn’t overheat like the nylon black one did, and the hand was far less shiny now as a bonus. That had certainly reduced the number of people catching something move out of the corner of their eye.

Was it worth fifty grand?

No.

Was it worth the last nine that Luke had left to pay on it?

Yeah. It was definitely worth the nine.

 ------

 Step two was to go make it clear to Fifteen McFlorist that he and his folks needed to back down in the face of the established guard.

Luke put on his biggest sweater and the thickest glasses he could find. He stole Chewie’s messenger bag with all the pins on it. He slung it over his shoulder and rolled the hems of his jeans up just a smidge too much, then scurried over to the florist’s across the way.

Fifteen was off to the side of the register, fucking around with something in the refrigerator. Luke busily and noisily looked through the wall of foliage on the side of the shop nearest the window. He hummed. He hawed. He made anxious nerd-sounds until a voice asked, “Hi, can I help you?”

Luke glanced out of the corner of his eye and found that Fifteen was standing facing his way now. His mask was gray this time. His apron was orange. His boots were too heavy-looking for florist work.

“I’d love that,” Luke gushed breathlessly. “See, my mom just got engaged and I’m on the way to her house.”

Fifteen lifted his chin slightly.

“What’re her favorites?” he asked tonelessly.

Terrible customer service skills, dude.

“Roses,” Luke said.

“Ours are shit today,” Fifteen said. “How about dahlias?”

Luke didn’t know what those were but sure.

“That sounds great,” he said. “You have any in pink?”

 --------

 He watched Fifteen brutalize some pink, orange, and white flowers into a bouquet wrapped with a silver bow and was sure to smile every time the guy looked up.

“That’ll be $37.59.”

Sir, these are dead flowers. There is no need for that price.

“Can I put it on card?” Luke asked. “How long have you worked here, if you don’t mind me asking? I work just across the way is all.”

Fifteen’s dark gaze flicked up. His hair was covered by a gray beanie two shades darker than the mask.

“At the club?” he asked.

“The bookshop,” Luke corrected him with a shy, but widening smile.

Please be gay. Please be gay. Please be gay. Leia wasn’t going to want to cooperate. She thought it was beneath her to establish boundaries like this.

“Blue paint,” Fifteen said. “Yeah, that place. How long have you been there?”

“My brother-in-law’s place, actually,” Luke said. “I started there last year after I finished college.”

Or, you know, maybe even eight years ago when he’d finished college. No one had to know. Baby faces don’t kiss and tell after all.

“Huh. You must like it there,” Fifteen said.

“It’s fine,” Luke hummed. “You like it here?”

“The kid does.”

“Oh, you’re a father?” Luke asked. “How old?”

“He’s three,” Fifteen said. “Godson. His folks were in an accident; didn’t make it.”

“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Luke said. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Fifteen handed him his card back. Luke’s hand didn’t close in time to catch it and it fell onto to the wooden counter.

“Sorry about that,” Luke said, reaching for it with the other hand. His knuckles bumped into Fifteen’s when he went for the card at the same time. They both paused and went for the card again with the same result. Luke laughed.

“Slippery, am I right?” he asked, flattening his fingers on top of the piece of plastic and snatching it away.

“Very,” Fifteen said. “I hope your mom likes them.”

“Me too,” Luke smiled. “I’ll see you around—What was your name?”

“You can call me Armando,” Fifteen said.

“Armando,” Luke sounded out. “It suits you.”

It was a falsie.

“And yours?”

“James.”

“It suits you.”

It didn’t.

“Bye now,” Luke said. “Thanks for your help.”

He let the door fall closed behind him with the tinkle of the bell.

 --------

 He informed Han that “Armando” had a toddler and received only a warning look and a scolding for all his effort. Han told him not to get jealous. If there was a kid in the balance, then Fifteen, for better or worse, was going to have to see each day after the next until there was no longer a kid in the balance.

Luke offered to call CPS and report “Armando” as an assassin.

“You do that and those folks across the street are gonna call the VA and tell them I’m an assassin,” Han said. “Lay low, Luke. Lay low.”

Never.

“Christ. At least until that thing’s yours then.”

Luke glared at his right hand.

“Gimme a double,” he told Han without looking away from it.

 ------------

 It was never easy to hunt in the daylight, but Luke wasn’t here to do easy things. He needed to get Mark No. 1 alone. The man took the train once a week to a gentleman’s club on his lunch break. Luke needed a change of clothes.

He had a rainbow windbreaker, white boots, and fishnets all ready to go.

He got on the same train as the mark and dropped his phone nearby. It clattered loudly and the case came off. Luke swore and squatted to drop it at the same time that two girls next to him decided to become good Samaritans. They crouched with him and one of them caught the phone first. They handed it back with a smile.

“I like your jacket,” she said.

Luke let his face struggle to find a smile at her kindness to him, a sweet little twink trying to find the pride parade that happened two weeks ago.

“Thanks,” he said. “I like your bracelet.”

He stood up. The girls were pleased with themselves. Luke glanced back to find Mark No. 1 turn his head abruptly away.

Come here, Markie.

Do you like what you see?

  Mark No. 1 didn’t make it out of his hotel room. A pity. Luke took the elevator down and huffed and puffed about a cheap date when he passed the front desk. He stopped abruptly and went back to ask the receptionist what the cross street was. She judged his go-go boots.

He told her she wasn’t his type. Her manager gave him the cross street.

Mark No. 2 had different parameters.

 ----------

 Mark No. 2’s parameters involved chasing him through a maze of boiler rooms and dumpsters. He was chump change towards a hand that Luke hadn’t wanted in the first place, but alas. The anger still roared.

Luke cornered him, still in go-go boots—no need to sacrifice style for speed—and watched those pale eyes look every which way as Mark No. 2 realized that there was no getting out of this.

“You got options, friend,” Luke said. “I can bring you in hot or I can bring you in—”

“—cold.”

His head snapped up and he lurched out of the way just as the crack of a bullet exploded in the alley. A car backfired around the corner in a sympathetic cough. Luke stared at the body then twisted around just in time for a thick glove to latch onto the back of his neck.

“Well, look who it is,” Fifteen drawled.

Luke glared out of the corner of his eye.

“Hands off, Armando,” he warned.

“I like your boots.”

“You’re gonna love ‘em when they’re on your dick,” Luke warned.

“Back off, Nayberry.”

Fucking hell, Han. This is why they should have set up boundaries weeks ago.

“I prefer ‘James,’” Luke said sweetly.

The glock levelled at his face didn’t care.

“You took my mark,” Fifteen said.

“Aw, poor baby,” Luke pouted. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you took mine.”

Fifteen’s orange apron was gone. He’d swapped it for an old leather jacket—something he could more easily wipe clean. He should’ve gone for patent leather. The brown really wasn’t working with his grey mask-beanie situation.

“Stay in your lane,” Fifteen warned.

“Only if you stay in yours,” Luke beamed.

Fifteen huffed.

“Bookstore,” he scoffed. “Who’d you give the flowers to?”

Luke tsked.

“Myself, jackass,” he said.

“Do you even have a mom?”

“What the fuck business is that of yours? You even got a kid?”

Fifteen’s stare was deadly—the cooling body before them notwithstanding.

“Take one step near him and we won’t be talkin’ so friendly, yeah?”

Mm. Yeah.

“You owe me four grand,” Luke informed Fifteen as the glock went down and Fifteen left him to go take a pulse.

The man’s back stiffened.

“Four?” he asked. “You took this job for four?”

Luke rolled his eyes.

“I got bills, Armando,” he drawled.

“How do you keep that shed open? Have you sold even one book?”

Rude. Luke was a great sales associate. If he actually cared to put his mind to it, he’d be worthy of a promotion to manager.

He pulled the rising legs of his shorts down and adjusted the weapon in his windbreaker. He couldn’t leave the alley the way he’d gone into it. Someone might have seen. He was going to have to take a side street. Hmmm, which one? Choices, choices.

“I’ll give you a Dad’s discount. Gimme two grand, and you can have him,” Luke negotiated as he thought.

“Two.”

Hey, no need for that tone. This was a great deal.

“What’re you gonna do with two?” Fifteen asked, already knelling down to heft the body over his shoulder as proof for payment.

“Buy some more tights,” Luke deadpanned. “Two, final offer.”

Fifteen stood up all the way and gave him a weird look. A long look. His beanie was pulled down low, but Luke got the impression that he was frowning at him.

“Take the four,” he said out of nowhere. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

Luke recoiled a step at first, then recoiled another when the reality of the situation hit him full in the chest.

“Forget it,” he snapped.

He spun around and started to leave.

“Wh—hey. HEY. Where are you goin’?”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ pity,” Luke called ahead of him as he set to climbing the chainlink fence separating him from the adjacent dead-end alley.

“You what?”

“You heard me,” Luke said.

He jumped down. His left hand found his right wrist and squeezed as he walked.

 -------

 The phantom pains kept him up all night, and it was definitely that and not the humiliation that made him call in sick. Han told him to answer his therapist’s emails. Luke told him to go do something useful and hung up. He rolled onto his back on his bed and focused on letting his body relax, his jaw unclench, his joints go limp.

There was sunlight finally streaming through his apartment windows again. It had been months.

Spring was almost here. He just had to hold out a little longer.

 --------

 He came in to work the next day and found an envelope on his chair in the backroom. It was thick.

“McFlorist dropped it off,” he said between aggravated sounds at his spreadsheets.

“Is it tax season already?” Luke asked him as he tried to burn a whole in the center of the envelope with his mind.

“Sure fuckin’ is.”

He stepped forward and snatched up the envelope, then deposited it squarely in Han’s lap. He made an unattractive noise of confusion and alarm.

“For the taxes,” Luke called as he went out to grab his lanyard and name tag. “Gotta keep this place open for another six months at least.”

 ------------

 There were new books in. A new shipment to shelve. Two kids’ displays to set up. And Luke was actually good at this stuff, thanks; he started stacking.

He got peace until he nearly got to the end of the second display, and then what he had was a heart attack. Two liquid brown eyes surrounded by an ocean of ringlets stared up at him from between his knees. The child curled a hand in and out in hello.

Luke jerked himself up to locate the thing’s parents immediately, and promptly found himself in deadly eye-contact with Fifteen.

Armando.

“You were gone yesterday,” Fifteen said flatly.

Luke looked between him and the kid. He was pinned between two enemy parties. How to escape, how to escape.

“Are you sick?”

How to escape. How to escape. How to escape.

“Are you hurt?”

H—what?

“I’m fine, stalker,” Luke snapped with more heat than this present cover allowed. He caught himself and pulled it back. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Thank you for asking. Is this…?”

Fifteen blinked once. The child blinked once as well. It was creepy.

“He’s mine,” Fifteen said. “And apparently the only thing that will get us through the next two hours is a book.”

Dude.

“Kids are kids,” Fifteen said. “You got any books?”

Luke stared at him, then checked the shelves to make sure he hadn’t teleported into another dimension.

You always had to check.

“We’re in a bookstore,” he said.

“He can’t read,” Fifteen said, pointing.

The kid grinned. His teeth were gapped in that toddler sort of way. He was kind of cute.

“You can’t read?” Luke asked him.

“Hi,” Baby said.

Oh no.

Luke loved him.

“How much?” he asked Fifteen.

“Touch him and you’ll be permanently comatose,” Fifteen said.

“Not if I died out of spite,” Luke said.

There was a long pause. Then Fifteen started laughing? Kind of hard?

“Oh my god, that was so unprofessional. I am so sorry,” Luke blurted out.

Fifteen collected himself and shook his head. His little one giggled and reached for Luke’s fingers.

“Boo,” he said.

Luke couldn’t feel the hand, but he could feel all the heart.

“Book?” he asked, crouching down. “Do you want a story?”

“Mmmm.”

“I have the perfect one,” Luke told him. “It’s about a caterpillar. Do you know what a caterpillar is?”

He got a slow, exaggerated head shake back and forth, back and forth. He stood up straight.

“I’m conducting a temporary kidnapping,” he informed Fifteen. “Do I have consent?”

Fifteen looked from him towards the front entrance and mulled over the merits of leaving his kid with his rival assassin. Then he shrugged.

“Consent granted,” he said. “Luke.”

Luke’s heart stopped.

“James,” he said.

“Your name tag says ‘Luke.’”

Well, fuck.

“Luke Nayberry. It suits you.”

Hhhhhhh. This was karma, wasn’t it.

“Thanks,” he gritted out. “And yourself, Armando?”

“Din.”

Woah, look out. Mr. One-Syllable-Cool-Man had entered the building.

“Din, what?” Luke asked as his arm registered tension. Din’s kid had latched onto his fingers and started pulling incessantly with a chubby hand gesturing in the direction of the wall of children’s books.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Din said.

“Fine, go trip then,” Luke said.

He swore that there was a smile under that mask.

 ----------

[spiltscribbles]

Oooh! Prompts! Remus and Sirius moving in together please! 💛

Notes: Thank you SO SO much gorgeous<3 I’m like kinda embarrassed that this is kinda shit, especially because you’re writing is so fucking gorgeous, so I’m sorry.

.-

A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars  |  Send Me A Prompt 

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“YOU!”

With a start that almost makes him drop the vase in his hands, Sirius turns around to find his surly looking  boyfriend glaring daggers straight at him, lips pursed and nose wrinkled ever so fetchingly. “Me?”

“You!”

“ Is this a Muggle game of semantics or something Moons, because for the life of me I’m not following.”

Remus’s glower only deepens, radiating a distinct sort of disapproval that could only ever be  honed in by years of prefectness. “You thief!” He squawks, hands perched on his hips, and mouth twisted up mutinously.

“Is this the part where you say I stole your heart?” Sirius goads with a cocked brow, resuming their unpacking.  “Because love, that line gets old after the millionth recital, but I do appreciate the spirit.”

“Wha? Na—no that is not what I was going to say you egotistical prick!” Remus scoffs— just a bit flustered with a dusting of pink touching the tops of his sharp cheekbones. “You ate the last spring role!” He accuses emphatically, almost tripping over the over a dozen boxes that are strewn across their newly furnished living room. Sirius can’t help but be endeared by Remus and his everythingness. 

“Yes, yes I did Wise Guy,” He confirms distractedly. “I also dipped it into some spicy mustard and drank a bottle of water while I was at it… Your point being?”

“My point you utter berk is that it was mine! I called dibs!”

“I remember no such thing,” Sirius sniffs haughtily, moving to rearrange the photographs  on their mantel. (And yeah, it’s still fucking insane to him that he’s become so domestic that he’s got a mantel over the fireplace that the man he loves more than any other had insisted was absolutely crucial to have if they were to move in together—probably for really romantical love making sessions in front  of it’s flames with the bliss of  no worries of anyone barging in on them, or griping  if they were being to loud—Which by the way, James honestly  had no right in complaining about considering his track record with his and Lily’s on again, off again mating ritual.

“Liar!" Sirius honestly  wouldn’t be surprised if Remus started stomping his feet right about now, and pouting up a storm if the childishly  cross expression    on his pretty face is anything to go by. (And honestly how could one man be so adorable and sexy all at once.)  “You were finishing up the shrimp tempura— because you are a posh idiot without any tastebuds— , and I said that I’ll be right back to get some of the boxes in the spare room, and to save it for me! And then I come here, and I find this! This breach of all we’ve built together!”

Sirius barely conceals his snort. “Is that right? The foundations of our whole, entire bloody relationship? And right after this afternoon, when I made you—“

Two spots of color blotch high on Remus’s cheeks and he cuts him off before Sirius can completely recount the frankly remarkable romp they had just finished with before deciding they needed some nourishment before getting back to unpacking. “Don’t you try to change the subject you stealing stealer who steals!”

“That insult leaves something to be desired Moonbeam.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you wound me!” Sirius mock sobs, slamming his fist against his chest and swinging back his arm against his forehead. “A plague on you, and your family! And another on your family’s cow.”

Remus’s face morphs into his painfully unimpressed expression, (Hint, it’s very, very flat). “I’ll take your intentional dodge as an admission,” He scoffs, arms crossed tight against his chest.

“I admit nothing!” Sirius shouts in an overdone accent that would better fit the set of Downton Abbey. “Nothing Lupin!”

Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius’s hyperbolic attitude, and okay. Yes. Perhaps Sirius remembers a similar conversation akin to what Remus had described  occurring only ten minutes prior. But to be quite honest, Sirius was hardly listening. Remus’s got on one of Sirius’s oversized t-shirts, a pair of boxer-briefs,  and nothing else. So yeah, he should definitely not be expected to be paying anything any mind while his beyond gorgeous boyfriend is sitting there, impossibly long legs put out for display, and one perfectly alabaster   shoulder bare where the shirt has slipped right off, effectively derailing  Sirius's thoughts to how he’d teasingly kissed across his collar bone just earlier that night, nibbling on the hinge of his jaw while Remus had been  writhing beneath him. so   Really and truly, he should’ve never been expected to remember anything— let alone something as trivial as dibs—  if his utterly perfect partner is right there for the taking, a determined dent between his brows, and intermittently rinsing his hand through his disheveled locks of hair like  spun gold, excited  over the prospect of fixing up this flat that is now their home.

Dear Merlin above   does Sirius love this bloke with every fiber of his being.

“Well,” he relents, swaggering up closer to Remus so that they’re standing only inches apart.  “Even if I did remember that such a discussion had taken place how you’ve described it—“

“It did, and you know it Black!” He harrumphs, using Sirius’s  surname just to get a rise out of him.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now love, is There?.”

Sirius’s sure that he’s won the argument and they could just move on, until he catches the glint in Remus’s impossibly luminous eyes—a glint that always means trouble, a glint that’s never failed to make each one of Sirius’s nerve endings go ablaze.

“Is that right?”

“I reckon it is Moonbeam,” he leers, is momentarily distracted by the downright angelic smile Remus casts his way right then, but suddenly, an onslaught of fingers are piercing into his ribs, wiggling and tickling him into submission.

“Say you’re sorry!” Remus demands, an effortless grin of his own swept across his lovely face, brighter than the morning sun. And yeah, maybe Sirius should just admit that it was his bad, apologize a thousand times over in the form of lingering kisses and caressing hands.… But the thing is, Sirius’s  stubbornness  has always been too rigid for his own good, and he’s always loved prodding at Remus till He just went off like the world’s most darling firecrackers.

“Never you absolute wanker!”

“I won’t relent till you profess an apology to my satisfaction,” Remus scoffs— a playful giggle lilting his overly formal words.

“And I won’t surrender!” He parries with a leer. Sirius tickles back  harder, and Remus  shimmies around so much that He ends up jabbing him in the eye,  ramming straight into his chest, and  effectively sprawling them—all long limbs and crooked angles—onto the wooden floorboards.

“Just say you’re sorry!” He insists, strangled laughter starting to gargle his words while Sirius just gazes down at him, mercilessly besotted.

“”S not my fault you didn’t take it with you Lupin, i’ve committed no grievance.”

“Oh come off it pretty boy.”

“Oy! I’m ruggedly handsome you arse!”

“Testy, testy.”

 “You’re the pretty one.”

“Oh suck my cock.”

“Been there done that.”

Remus seems to be fighting down another laugh before he knees him lightly in the abdomen enough that Sirius tenses, giving Remus the chance to  switch their positions once again, so that  He’s back  on top. 

“My have the tables turned,” He taunts with one of his most dazzling smiles, dimples in full effect, and crinkles around his pretty sea glass eyes.

“I like how you think I’m at all opposed to this position,” Sirius says with a pixilated gleam, arching back enough so that their cotton clad dicks buck up against each other.

“Perv!” Remus scolds, smacking his chest playfully. “Now admit that I won!”

“Never!”

 Somehow, amidst all the thrashing bodies and choked peals of laughter, Sirius flips him over— slight body beneath his own, with Remus’s wrists pinned over his head and his legs wrapped around Sirius’s waste.

“Now, now Monsieur Moony, I reckon that spring has rolled into winter for you,” Sirius most definitely does not laugh raucously    at his own pun.

“That’s not even the direction that the seasons go in,” Remus frowns, nose wrinkled indelicately, a tell Sirius’s picked up on whenever He’s mad over an outcome.

“You still lost though,” Sirius barbs with no real bite, pecking a quick kiss to his lips in solace.

“You’re awful, and I’m breaking up with you,” Remus sniffs in turn—wiggling underneath him to try and get loose.

“Oh, you love me really.” Sirius preens like the cat who’s caught the canary— the world’s most beautiful and brilliant and ruffled canary that is.

“Lies and slander!” Remus waggles his tongue between his teeth, and Sirius dips down to bite it teasingly. 

“Hmm, now isn’t this cute,” the pair scramble away from each other, utterly stunned once spotting Lily of all people, gaze twinkling and lips set into a firm smirk, eyeing them while leisurely lounging against the door frame. 

“You two really can’t keep yr sodding hands off of each other, can you?”

Remus completely reddens, totally flustered, while Sirius only follies back a smug sort of grin at the force of nature  that is Lily Evans, his practical sister-in-law, remus’s best friend, and all around genius.

“How long have you been watching Red dearest,” Sirius asks wryly, making it so now Lily’s the one who’s flushing..

“I hate you Black.” She says shortly, and Sirius’s beam doesn’t falter. “Re, as your spiritual older sister—“

“You’re barely a month older Lils,” Remus interjects, but Lily just goes on as if he hadn’t.

 “I think it’s my job to remind you that he’s not the only bloke in London with a decent shoulder to waste ratio and nice hair. We can snag you someone with a bit of brains even.”

Sirius tosses her a V shaped salute, and Lily sticks her tongue out in retaliation,  but for his part, Remus only tries to cut through the tension with one of his friendlier grins, though it just comes out as an awkward grimace. “I forgot that you’re dropping off the boxes tonight.”

“Evidently Ace,” she snorts, strutting further into the apartment and setting down the box of photos Remus had asked her to bring over from their old place. “Far too busy snogging with the boy who single handedly received the most detentions in Hogwarts history, while also, somehow— by the grace of God— threatened our stances as top of the class.”

“Oy Evans, can’t take all the credit for myself. Jem was my better half, till he moved on to the likes of you.”

Lily ignores him, save for the way her pretty face gets a bit scrunched out of irritation. “Ace, I ask you, what would McGonagall say if she saw her favorite prefect gallivanting around with such a delinquent.

Remus lets out one of his rare and beautiful laughs, something that feels buoyant and is really more breath than sound, but is still so vibrant and splendid and it never fails to thrust Sirius back to the Hogwarts Express, where he and Remus had first met as a couple of wide eyed eleven year olds, and all the contradicting emotions Remus had provoked upon first sight. Wonder, and confusion. Intrigue, and diffidence. Wanting, and fear. It’s an attribute of Remus's that Sirius will never not be amazed by.

“Ah, Minnie my love, how I do miss her so, now where were we Moonbeam?”

“I’m still standing here Black,” Lily reproves with a scoff.

“I think it was about here,” Sirius continues, dipping down to kiss at Remus’s protruding  collar bones.

“Settle down mutt,” Remus rebukes with no real heat, a gentle hand carding through Sirius’s hair.

“God, you two are already an old married couple.”

“You really do know the best moments to interrupt sweetheart.” Sirius snipes with a playful roll to his eyes, his hand discretely resting over the small of Remus’s back.

“And you have no decency, corrupting   Remus the way that you do.”

“Okay first, I take fucking offense, you know better than me that Moony here was the mastermind behind most of our delightful pranks.”

“You mean your childish inconveniences you plagued on the unsuspecting public?”

“And secondly, we didn’t even get to the fun, currupting   part because of your oh so lovely interruption.” Sirius retorts moodily, though he soon suspects the joke was a wrong play to make  when Lily’s smile suddenly goes predatory and sHe flips back a lock of her wind blown curls, ready to pounce. 

“Well perhaps I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t further defiling   my dear Remus. But I guess that giant love bite on your neck proves that I’m too late.”

Sirius can’t help the chuckle that pours out of his lips at her needled observation, smacking a hand to conceal the hickey sHe’s taunting him about, knowing exactly where it is, it’s been a topic of teasing all morning long from a smug Sirius to a properly indignant Remus.

“He-he just marks easily,” Remus pipes out, cheeks completely infused red and worrying on his bottom lip. Sirius suspects that Lily just knew that the one chink in his armor is prodding at Remus’s less than poised acts. 

Lily rolls her eyes in a way that convinces Sirius that sHe doesn’t believe it for a second. “Whatever you say oh Saint Remus,” sHe smirks with no more argument. “but pray tell, are you guys about done swapping spit around me? Or is that going to forever be a regular occurrence in the Remus and Sirius show?”

“Now I’d reckon that’ll get a sold out crowd every night, don’t you?” Sirius asks, directing his question at the pair of  of them while taking Remus’s hand, and pushing him even closer— just always preferring to have some sort of contact with him.

“Oh put a sock in it,” Remus harrumphs, finally starting to return to his normal coloring in the midst of Lily’s unrestrained cackles.

“Aw, don’t be shy love, it’s only the truth.”

Remus presses the pads of his fingers to Sirius’s lips and glares at him for good measure, “Some things are better left for private.”

“Hah,” Lily scoffs, weight slung to her left hip. “As if I don’t get a front row seat every time  you two are within even in a ten foot radius of each other—OH hey, I know that look Ace! The one eyed squint, and the teeth. Well your “I’m about to kill my gorgeous best friend,” look has no place here, i’ll see my way out now. Just promise not to christen every room in this place, kay? We’d all like to visit without the residual specs haunting us! And I know how moody you get without your daily dose of my scintillating company.”

Sirius thinks that Remus’s trying to skewer a whole in the spot where Lily was just standing, if the terribly cross look on his face says anything. It’s precious, Sirius can’t help but snicker.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake! You’re s’pose to be on my side!”

“I wasn’t laughing at you Moons,” he kisses the fingers Remus has still got on his mouth, mock consolatory.  “Just incredibly turned on.”

That dent between Remus’s brows is back again for a moment, but then his beauteous features smoothen out and He just pecks a quick kiss to Sirius’s lips before rifling through the box Lily brought over, muttering a light,”Whatever,” as He does so.

There’s a quick wrapping to the window, and Sirius glances over to find his owl— Odysseus— with a bundle of letters attached to his left leg. By rote, Sirius feeds him some of the pellets they keep  there for convenience, and unwinds the bundle of parchments, beginning to shuffle through them.

There’s a copy of the Nightly prophet with the murder of another Muggle family splattered all over the front cover in a sickeningly gauche manner, a free trial subscription to the Quibbler with a reading for Scorpios in the month of October, a letter from Peter about his mum and sisters driving him up the rails, an invitation from Marlene for he and Remus to come out to dinner with them for Dorcas’s Birthday, and a ominous letter from James of all paper that simply says a gift for Moony.

Bewildered to why he hadn’t just sent it along with Lily, Sirius tares off the attached photograph only to find something truly, horrendously vile. a photograph of himself. One that was definitely taken fifth year— Sirius’s worst year where he absolutely could not stand being around his family for a moment longer, and James was getting more settled with his studies, an Remus was dating that prefect prick from Ravenclaw and was exceedingly elusive from Marauders nights out.  This was so obviously taken on one of those aforementioned nights out that it’s comical.  Sirius’s hair is as long as it’s ever been— touching the tops of his shoulders— and he’s chugging down a fruity, pink concoction— the type  that Rosmerta was always cooking up for them— hand over fist, and he’s got on puppy ears and a fake nose. In layman’s terms he looks like a complete and total pillock. Drunk off his ass so much so that you can see the stars in his eyes even through the clunky glasses he had stolen from James— convinced that he was sporting them for purely esthetic reasons and not because the knob is actually as blind as a bloody bat— and his finger is pointed and mouth is open in the way it always is when he’s ranting about something or the other.

It’s perhaps the only photograph in history where Sirius isn’t looking his typical, jaw dropping gorgeous self.

There’s about a thousand different retorts he wants to scribble on a spare parchment and  shoot right back to James— ranging from nasty to downright despicable— but then he catches the familiar peal of laughter coming from behind him. He’s not surprised when he sees Remus—beautiful, ingenuous, perfect Remus who’s physically incapable of taking a photograph less than effortlessly lovely, even while pissed— peering over his shoulder in utter amusement.

“Oh My God I need to ask James to send me one of the hundreds of copies he surely has.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sirius retorts darkly.

“I’ll use an enlarging charm and hang it up above the mantel, for prosperity. The one time Sirius looks the way he acts,” he moves his hand over an invisible marquee and looks so damn smug that Sirius could kiss him, and in fact, that’s exactly what he does.

“I hate him,” is all he says afterwards, once he’s pulled away.

“I can’t believe that’s you!” Remus continues with eyes full of mirth.

“I want to banish him, no. No I want to banish all of them. All of our friends, we can make knew ones Moons. I mean look at us! We’re a catch!” He tosses the letters onto the newly acquired sofa as if they have personally affronted  him and all he stands for.

“ Oh brilliant idea love.”

“That sounds like your sarcastic voice Moons.”

“No, you’ve got my full support. this’s our castle Pads, we can banish whom ever we like,” Remus balances on his tiptoes,  and smacks an exasperated kiss onto his cheek. Sirius can barely contain the glee that’s dancing in his eyes at the thought of this being their own personal castle— a fortress just for the pair of them to escape within—  causing another swell of fondness to pound in his chest.

“Well maybe we can give’m another chance,” he relents, melting into how Remus’s locked his arms around his neck, and is smiling up at him with all the love in the world shining unadulteratedly in his lovely eyes. “I mean they did help us move all those boxes and all.”

Remus hums his agreement while he presses his forehead against his own, endlessly endeared.

“What a generous king,” He goads, words hugged with fondness. 

“Ooo, I like that, call me that in bed and I might bless you with my royal sector.”

Remus thumps his nose, “Your more tolerable when you don’t speak and just stand there being pretty.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty Moonykins?”

Remus shakes his head ruefully, the smile on his face one that Sirius knows well— one that means he’s reluctantly endeared. “Dork.”

“Plonker.”

There lips meet for another kiss and it feels like all the resplendence in the galaxy being distilled between just the two of them.

[softyhyunjin]

ldr ⊵ bang chan

Description: Distance definitely makes the heart grow fonder.

இ genre: friends to lovers, ldr, college au, angst?, def fluff             

இ pairing: chan x reader                                                                              

இ word count: 12.5k

warnings?: there’s alc, and a pretty mf hot chan

a/n: @changbeanie it’s been a while ´･ᴗ･` wow, just wow 

↫ i ↬

“Chan, I need to spill the tea!”

He came to a halt, setting aside his unopened One Piece mystery figures. When he looked into the camera lens, his brows knit together in a little frown. 

“No Y/N, you can’t spill the tea! The tea is hot, and if you spill it, you are gonna get burned,” Chan playfully scolded you and laughed shortly after. 

“I’m serious Chan,” you whined, covering your face to hide your warm cheeks. Chan laughed even more. You didn’t know whether he was laughing at you or his joke. Maybe it was both. 

He calmed down and leaned back into his gaming chair. Sighing in content, he looked at you from his monitor, smiling softly. “Go ahead, tell me,” Chan said. 

“Can I really?” You removed your hands from your face and rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, now go!” He chuckled. 

“I caught Changbin on a date with someone!” 

Chan faked a gasp, “Ahhh, no way.”

“Oh, so you knew?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to finish spilling the tea.”

“That’s all I wanted to spill,” you scoffed. Of course, Chan would know about Changbin’s love life, he was close to all his friends after all. Now, your reasoning for calling him went down the drain. Useless. 

Chan shrugged, “He already told me his plan to confess to his crush a while back, so I’m not surprised. Ruby, I think that’s her name? Yeah.” 

“Okay, goodnight then. I’ll call you later this week if I can,” you sighed in defeat, swiping your mouse pad to hang up. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N, you didn’t even let me finish opening the package you sent me. Don’t you want to see who I got?” His eyes lit up at his unopened One Piece figures. 

“Not really, it cost me a fortune to ship it out to you,” you spun around in your chair, faking disinterest to the birthday boy, but in reality, you wanted to stretch the call as long as you could. You really missed him. 

Chan had been studying abroad in Berlin for two months. You remember him speaking to you about it and listing his options in order: Berlin, Dublin, and Paris. When you asked why he placed Berlin as his first choice, he said its nightlife attracted him the most, which isn’t surprising, considering the night owl he is. And bonus, it was cheaper than his other options. 

“Should I call Woojin to watch me unbox instead, then?” He cocked his brow. 

“Do you really want him to watch you unbox it?” You pouted.

“Noo, I want you to watch me. But… I guess you don’t wanna,” Bang Chan shrugged.

“Ugh, you already know I do.”

“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He teased further, enjoying his ability to easily earn a reaction from you. 

“Are you coming back to Sydney for Thanksgiving?” You responded with a question. 

“No, it would be pointless because I have to immediately fly back to Berlin for finals. Maybe I should stay here until the 22nd of December. Besides, I’m gonna miss it here. Oh-“ He excitedly tore off the wrap of his gift, “Tony Tony Chopper. I had a feeling I would get him,” he laughed. 

“Oh,” you said in a small voice but quickly hid your disappointment and smiled. “I was hoping you’d get him.”

Inside, you were pretty bummed out. Not seeing Chan for over a month was torture. Whatever you wanted to try would have to wait until he got back: the new restaurant by the mall, going on a fishing trip, and using the remaining benefits of your favorite amusement park’s season pass. Most importantly, you chose to wait for him to come home so that the two of you could binge-watch the latest season of Stranger Things. 

Chan had already caught the disappointment in your voice and put down the Tony Tony Chopper figure. Propping his elbow onto the desk, he used his palm to cup his chin, leaning into the monitor. Although he was ten thousand miles away, the gesture made him feel closer to you and Sydney. “You know that’s not what I meant. I miss home, my mum’s cooking, hanging with the guys, and cuddling with Berry. I get homesick at times, but I love it here.”

“I know, I’m just bored without you. I want to go bar hopping in Sydney again,” you groaned, feeling bad for making Chan explain himself when he didn’t even need to. 

“Tch, you just want to see the guys drunk call their girlfriends again.”

“Not even! I only want to see Hyunjin drunk call his girlfriend, it’s so cute when he whines to her about wanting to be the little spoon. He gets so embarrassed whenever Jisung and I show him the recordings,” you cackled like a witch. 

Chan shook his head in disapproval, chuckling at your words, “Y/N, You’re so evil. Just wait until you’re the one to drunk call somebody.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll have somebody by the time you come back,” you shrugged. 

“Oooh, well, do you?” 

“We’ll just have to wait until the next time we go bar hopping.”

“Then, you’re gonna have to wait for another two months,” he sang through the screen, his hand reaching for the mouse to select a song on one of his Spotify playlists. 

SLANDER & Said the Sky - Potions (ft. JT Roach)

“It’s going to be a long wait,” you sighed, drumming your fingers against your desk. 

“Every time you said a word, I was starin' at your lips. I don't think I've ever been so close to a love like this,” he sang along before taking a pause to say, “I’ll be home before you know it.”

Shooting him with a finger gun, you suggested, “Ahah! Are drinks gonna be on you?” 

“Shouldn’t you be buying? I’m the one coming home.”

You scowled. “Ask the boys because you miss them.”

“Don’t worry, I miss you too,” Chan easily confessed, bobbing his head to the drop of the bass. 

↫ ii ↬

“Gobble gobble gobble!” 

“Shut up, we don’t even have a turkey,” Minho said, slapping Jisung’s ass when he took up the entire couch. 

Jisung scooted enough for Minho to sit and used his lap as a pillow, “Hey, I told everyone to pitch in for our lovely Friendsgiving, but nooo! So, it ain’t my problem.”

“We pitched in for beef, that’s even better,” Hyunjin said, jumping back when the meat hit the electric grill, abruptly sizzling and splattering oil onto his hand. 

“Gimme that, you’re going to end up burning the meat and your hand,” Jeongin took the metal tongs from Hyunjin, increasing the temperature of the grill and adding more slices of brisket. 

“Haha, who are you trying to impress? Y/N?” Woojin joked.

Seungmin killed Woojin’s joke in an instant, “No, he’s trying to practice for his crush. They went out the other day and she cooked for him the whole time.”

Changbin stole the first slice of meat from the serving tray, saying with a mouthful, “Big fat rip, dude.”

 “Hello?” Felix said after picking up an incoming call from his phone. He rolled his eyes at the person speaking on the other line, “Liv, I told you to always have your wallet on you. No, I am not going to drive over to drop it off. Just stop by the house on your way to the movies.”

“Your sister left her wallet at home again?” Jisung asked. 

Felix shrugged, “Yeah, she always does that. I’m not gonna drop it off to her this time. Whatever, she said she’ll be here in ten.” 

You wedged yourself between Felix and Seungmin on the couch, making yourself comfortable while Felix challenged Minho on Super Smash Bros. Jisung had just finished setting up his Nintendo Switch on Felix’s TV and tossed both controllers to the first round competitors. Felix selected Dark Pit whereas Minho did the random selection and got Ness. 

“Nooooo! FUCK.” Felix screeched after Minho sent his character flying off the platform. You covered your ears but laughed at Felix’s loss. 

Minho smirked, nodding to his opponent, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want to change your fighter?” 

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, Felix shook his head, “No, rematch.”

The doorbell rang. Without a glance, too absorbed into his rematch with Minho, Felix asked you to open the front gate for Olivia. You left the couch and went outside to open it for her. When you opened the wooden gate, you found Bang Chan waiting outside instead of Felix’s sister. Your mouth went agape. 

“You’re back...” You said, stepping aside to let him in. 

Shock was still written across your face. He gently patted his carry on before leaning in to take a look at your face. Jokingly, he said, “I take it that you’re not thrilled to see me, should I leave then?”

Seeing him in person made your heart swell. You suddenly remembered how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by his presence, your eyes began to pool with tears and just could not stop. Without blinking, a big, fat tear escaped. Wiping the stray tear with the sleeve of your hoodie, you wanted to stop crying but wound up sniffling. 

Chan reached for your other arm, gently drawing small circles with his thumb. He couldn’t help but laugh as he attempted to soothe you. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He cooed, throwing another joke, “Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, don't.” 

Although tears kept on falling, you laughed back and patted your cheeks dry with your sleeve. Chan let go of the carry-on, spreading his arms wide for only one reason. You accepted his invitation, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his torso. “Don’t worry, I missed you too. But I didn’t expect you to cry so much,” he teased. 

The vibration his laughter gave off, made your insides feel warm and fuzzy. Chan smelled like fresh laundry mixed with the familiar cologne he only wore for special occasions. He rocked you side to side, and you could feel the smile spread across his face from his chuckling. You wanted to hug him even longer but a notification went off, causing both of you to pull away from each other. 

It was coming from the Apple Watch gifted to him from everyone for his 21st birthday. Chan checked the notification, disregarding it when it began to spam. “Let’s go inside,” he said, patting your shoulders to make you head in first. 

“Finally! What took you so long?” Felix jumped from the couch to give Chan a hug. 

Chan gave a nonchalant shrug, “My mum wouldn’t stop talking. If it weren’t for Hannah and Olivia needing a ride to the mall, I would’ve gotten here much later.”

“Christopher Bang, I have been waiting for you,” Jisung swooped in, giving Chan a bear hug. Then, weakly whispered into his dear friend’s ear, “If it was any longer, I would’ve died from starvation.”

You frowned all of a sudden. “Wait, all of you guys knew he was coming back for Thanksgiving?” 

“Surprise!” Felix awkwardly laughed because he knew you were going to strangle him later.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t he come back? It’s Thanksgiving,” Hyunjin walked out of the kitchen with the rest of the guys to hug Chan. 

“You said you weren’t though,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Chan. He removed the black cap from his head, sheepishly running a hand through his... dark brown hair? There was no longer a strand of dirty blonde. “Oh my god, and you dyed your hair back to your natural hair color,” you gasped. 

“Boy, I am starving,” he whistled, purposely ignoring your stare. 

Jisung wrapped his arms around yours and Chan’s shoulders, inhaling the aroma of Seungmin’s freshly baked pies coming from the oven. “I’m so fucking stoked to eat. Let’s eat.”

↫ iii ↬ bh.pt.i ↫

Famous Dex - Japan

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your mans? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan.”

Chan sang Japan by Famous Dex, pointing to Felix once they both made eye contact. Felix quickly caught on, finishing the chorus with a strong dab, “I ain't doin' no playin', these red bottoms, not no Vans. And she tellin' all her friends, I might put 'em on the Gram, aye!” 

“I don’t know you two anymore,” you cringed at the pair. Once the song was over, they started singing to Lil Uzi Vert’s ‘XO TOUR Llif3.’ 

“Should've saw the way she looked me in my eyes. She said baby I am not afraid to, die. Push me to the edge, all my friends are dead, push me to the edge, all my friends are dead,” they both sang, clasping each other’s hands and bobbing their heads. 

“Ah shit, the Uber driver is gonna be outside in two minutes,” Felix cursed and ran upstairs to his room to grab his bomber. 

“Hurry, or else we’re going to leave you!” Chan shouted towards the stairs, then, lowering his voice to tell you, “Let’s leave him.”

You rolled your eyes, and he cracked a smile. 

After Thanksgiving, Chan had two and a half days left before heading back to Berlin. You wanted to spend as much time as you can with him. Not only you, but everyone else wanted to. And the perfect way to do it: 

Bar hopping. (bh)

Jisung brought up the idea because he wanted to buy his friend a drink. It was a treat for Chan since he’s been away for nearly three months. But also, Jisung was anticipating to record any of Hyunjin’s embarrassing moments. For him, it was killing two birds with one stone. 

“Thank you, sir, have a good one,” Chan said to the Uber driver, waving goodbye as he was the last to exit the backseat of the car. 

Felix scanned the area, squinting whenever he saw anyone coming out of a shop. “Uh, we just arrived. Where are you- Oh! I see Woojin waiting in the front,” he hung up. 

“I’m so hungry.” Your stomach grumbled. 

“Yoooooo! Broski, over here,” Felix waved both hands in the air. The three of you approached Woojin, giving him a hug before entering the bar. 

Everyone was already seated inside munching on some salted peanuts. Changbin tossed a peanut into the air, and Jisung caught it in his mouth, extending his arms in the air to gloat his victory. “Now buy me a drink,” he demanded. 

“Fine,” Changbin scoffed but agreed. 

Once the three of you settled down in the large booth, Woojin ordered a beer and a shot of tequila for each person. You were excited to drink but hated tequila. It was the first alcohol to ever give you a massive hangover. The taste was disgusting and a measly whiff could still trigger your gag reflexes. 

“Alright, whoever finishes last needs to take another shot of tequila,” Felix snickered. 

“Ugh, no,” Hyunjin groaned.  

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “Will you be able to handle it?” 

You bumped your left shoulder against his right, “Of course, who do you think I am?” 

Changbin knocked on the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “3! 2! 1! Go!” 

You chugged the beer while keeping your eyes open for the rest of the guys. Most of them started off with their shot of tequila to get it over with while you, Jisung, and Jeongin started off with beer. By the time you were halfway done with your beer, the tequila starters were beginning to touch their beers. Some were still making faces from sucking the complementary lime wedges that came with the tequila. 

Finishing the last of your beer, Jisung slapped the table with his shot glass. Still sucking his like wedge, he pointed at you to hurry so you can come in second place. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grabbing the lime wedge in one hand and the tequila shot in the other, downing it in one go. “That’s so fucking nasty,” you whined and chewed into the lime wedge. 

“Done,” Changbin said, sliding his empty drinks into the center of the table. 

Next, Chan burped out loud, saying, “I’m done. Excuse me.”

When everyone finished, the order came out to be: Jisung, Y/N, Changbin, Chan, Woojin, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin. 

“FUck, this shit. I hate bar hop… ping,” Hyunjin complained, burping in defeat. 

“Bottoms up, loser,” Jisung laughed. 

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Everyone chanted, cheering when Hyunjin finished the last of the devil’s juice. Already, his face was getting red as he lazily brushed his messy bangs away from his eyes. 

Even though Jeongin was second to the last place, he was eager to move on to the next round. Rubbing his hands in excitement, he asked, “So what’s next?” 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.ii ↫

“We are just going to take it chill this round,” Seungmin cutely laughed. 

The lightweight slurred, jabbing his index finger onto Seungmin’s chest, “No, you wanted to take it chill this round.”

“He’s trying to save you,” you slapped Hyunjin’s back, “But I don’t mind taking it chill this round.”

Already tipsy and spouting out nonsense like always, Jisung called you out, “Y/N, what’s with the getup today?” 

He really emphasized the makeup and your fitted black off-shoulder top with dramatic John Cena hand movements. You grew embarrassed by the sudden attention. Now, everyone’s eyes were on you, especially Bang Chan’s. Your cheeks grew warm as you blushed, but that honestly did not matter because the lighting of the second bar was dark enough to hide them. 

“Jisung, they’re just falsies,” you rolled your eyes. 

Hyunjin cocked an eyebrow into your direction, “My girlfriend likes to wear them when she’s going out. Are you going out with anybody?” He put his head down and burped. “Keeping seCrets huh? uGH, I miss my girlfriend.”

“Nooo, definitely not…” You sighed, “I just felt like doing something different today.” 

“Is it because Chan is back?” Seungmin felt like he cracked the Da Vinci Code. Ridiculous. 

“You’re ridiculous, Kim Seungmin.”

Felix intervened, lazily karate-chopping his arm into the table. Thanks to him, he saved you from making a fool of yourself. “What about me? Didn’t you know anything different about me today?” He slurred. 

“You’re drunk,” Seungmin pointed out the obvious. 

“No, not yet. I got a new bomber, duh. Go ahead, touch it,” Felix suggested. He grabbed Seungmin’s hand, hovering it over his jacket. Then, Felix made him caress the smooth material. 

Both you and Chan burst out laughing. Then, you both turned to look at each other. When your laughter died down, you glanced at his plump lips and looked away with a sigh on yours. 

Why did you go out of your own way to put on makeup and wear your silver drop earrings? The top was a gift from one of your girlfriends. It’s been sitting in your closet for ages, but still, it was something different. 

The guys began to plan for the winter break agenda and Chan joined in on the conversation. He remembered the video call between you and him. It was around the time of his birthday when he unboxed the mystery One Piece figures you sent to him... Did you ever find somebody? 

For a moment, there was this unsettling feeling growing inside of his chest. Yeah, why did she look differently today, is what he thought. You were never ‘ugly’ in his opinion, you were just Y/N. Whatever you choose to do shouldn't matter, so Chan did what anyone would do: He brushed it off. 

Chan glanced over, feeling a little taken aback when you laughed at something Minho said about Hyunjin. Whenever he was surprised, his eyebrows did this thing where they would cutely knot upwards and his eyes would light up. But this time, it was different. Yes, he was surprised but the expression on his face grew soft immediately after you made eye contact with him. 

You raised the glass of your favorite cocktail to your lips, nodding in excitement when Jisung ‘secretly’ whipped out his phone and began recording Hyunjin. Then, you broke into a playful grin while biting into the black stirring straw before sipping your drink. Yeah, he thought you were really attractive right now. 

For some reason, Bang Chan felt like his body was engulfed by flames. 

You raised a brow, offering him to try your drink with a smile. Chan blinked back, totally aware he was staring at you. Luckily, you weren’t and thought he was curious about your drink. 

Turning down your offer, he decided to lay off on the drinking for the rest of this round. It was the alcohol causing him to feel this way, or that’s what he thought. 

If not, this was going to be a big problem. 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.iii ↫

“Last but not least, we are going to get hammered with soju and meat,” Jisung cupped Changbin’s cheeks, then, patting them like how Asian grandmothers would select the perfect watermelons. 

Before Changbin could place him into a chokehold, Jisung clumsily ran into the restaurant to request for seats. He almost ran into one of the patio heaters in the process. “Come back, you fucking squirrel!” Changbin waved his fist in the air like an old man. 

He adopts a sailors’ mouth when he drinks lol. 

Hyunjin had an arm draped over Woojin’s shoulders. He’s already sobered up by now. “Let’s make sure he gets hammered tonight,” he said, then, pointed a finger at you, “And Y/N.”

“I say we should go for it,” Woojin supported his friend.

Your eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“He’s still salty you sent recordings to his girlfriend,” Jeongin teased Hyunjin, his eyes effortlessly creasing into the cutest eye smile. He reminded you of a baby fox. 

“I didn’t, it was Jisung. Recordings were sent from his phone,” You shrugged and stuck your tongue out when Hyunjin mimicked you. 

Jisung peeked at everyone from the restaurant door and caught Seungmin’s attention first, signaling him to bring everyone inside. Seungmin said, “Let’s go, seats are ready.” 

“I already picked out the meats. Now, the hardest part is choosing the soju flavor,” Jisung looked at the drinks menu with heart eyes. 

Changbin took the menu from Jisung’s hands, cockily skimming through it. “Leave it to me, I know what we should stay away from.”

When the waiter came by, Changbin ended up ordering two large yogurts, two fruit-flavored, and two original soju. Seven drinks. Everyone looked at him with their jaws dropped. “You’re actually insane,” Felix said even though he was at a loss of words. 

“The frat boy mentality has sprung onto him. It’s too late, we can’t save him,” Chan cried, covering his warm face, dramatically tugging it downwards with both hands. 

You sighed and lay your head onto Chan’s shoulder. You were still buzzed, but it was going to be a long night. Earlier, he put his jean jacket over your shoulders when some guy walked by and gave you a whistle. You were very uncomfortable from receiving the unwanted attention coming from a sleazebag and hid behind Chan’s broad frame. 

You were getting tired but still wanted to have fun. Chan’s shoulder was a muscular pillow. Your eyes glanced at the sleeve of his black T-shirt. Then, your eyes trailed down to his arm veins, his hand, and the ring on his pinky finger. It was your gift to him for his birthday this year. There was this strong urge to place your hand on top of his and flip it over so that the palm of his hand would be open for you to entwine your fingers in. 

Fuck, why is he so hot?

You didn’t actually do it though, you could not bring yourself to. When you tilted your head upwards, Chan was laughing at Woojin’s disaster story about his most recent blind date. He must’ve felt your gaze on him so he stopped paying attention to the story. Chan laid his eyes on you while you blinked back in surprise with a tinge of pink on your cheeks. His eyes held your gaze momentarily before trailing down to your lips, and so did you. 

You were both waiting for something to happen. The tension-

“Drinks and meat are here,” Minho excitedly cleared the table for the waiter. 

Both you and Chan looked away from each other at the same time. You instantly removed your head from his shoulder, and he cleared his throat. You were both left feeling embarrassed, however, Chan also felt nervous. You, on the other hand, felt a heavyweight on top of your chest. 

For this last round of bar hopping, you both avoided any sort of eye contact or slight skinship with one another. It was too risky, making a nervous wreck out of both you and Chan. 

“Let’s play Truth or Drink mixed with Never Have I Ever,” Changbin said, pouring a drink into everybody’s shot glass, filling it to the brim. 

Minho scoffed but enjoyed the idea, “You’re just asking for everyone to drink.”

“That’s the point.”

“Never have I ever almost joined a cult back in high school,” Jisung tsked over to his friend, snickering when Hyunjin and Jeongin downed the shot in one go. 

Hyunjin went next and glared at Jisung, “Never have I ever lived in Malaysia during my childhood.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, chewing on a piece of meat after drinking his shot. “Playing like that, I see.”

“Well, you started it.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You.”

Chan interrupted their bickering, and said, “Moving on, never have I ever… Cheated on an exam.” Everyone groaned, drinking except for him, Seungmin, and Hyunjin. Then, it was your turn. 

“Er… Never have I ever blacked out from drinking,” you peeked around, raising your glass to everyone. Changbin, Woojin, Chan, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix all clinked their glasses together. 

“Alcoholics,” Minho shook his head, eyeing each person with false disappointment written on his face. 

“Shut the fuck up, you have no right. You’re the goddamn instigator,” Jisung kicked Minho’s foot under the table. 

“Stop playing footsies with me.”

“Oh, I can stop whenever I want to.”

“Can I go now?” Seungmin stuck a piece of rib finger into Jisung’s mouth. Everyone gave him the go, so he suggested, “Let’s do Truth or Drink this round, and the question applies to everyone. If you were a serial killer in a movie, who would you kill first? On the count of three, point your finger to the person. 3! 2! 1!”

“Wow.” And it wasn’t hard to guess who it was. 

The rest of the night went by like that, playing more rounds of Never Have I Ever and Truth or Drink. More than half of the group was drunk and Hyunjin had his head down. He already knocked out and was drooling. You were drunk too but waited for Felix to take his turn. 

Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you felt your eyelids become heavier the longer Felix took to ask his question. Finally, he asked everyone, “What are you the most grateful for?”

“I’m the most grateful for my cats,” Minho brought up his fingers and began to list each cat, “Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Sometimes, I get hissed at but I still love them all.”

It was Chan’s turn. “Mmm,” he thought, “I’d say, my parents, because if they never gifted me with music, I wouldn’t be CB97 right now.”

“And there wouldn’t be SPEARmint and your one and only,” Jisung sluggishly pointed to himself, groaning, “J.One.”

“It’s SPEARB,” Changbin whined, hugging Jisung. 

Chan was beginning to sober up and sipped on his half-full glass of water. Getting sentimental and smiling over to his rap unit members, his ears perked up when it was your turn. You had your head and arms sprawled across the table, earning a laugh from Minho when you palmed your forehead with a disgruntled look on your face. Your head hurt, but you continued, “I am grateful for a lot of things. My dog, meeting my ultimate bias, and having you guys in my life.”

“That’s so generic, be more specific,” Minho teased. 

“Lix, I’m grateful for Felix. If my dad never met his dad in their twenties, I would’ve never grown up with Lix. My dad wouldn’t have almost accidentally run over him that one time when he was running away from Rachel.”

“Huh, I remembered that day. Rachel got so mad at me for reading her diary. I mean, she did leave it on the couch,” Felix reminisced, chuckling at the memory from long ago. 

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a little confused with what you shared. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for your dad meeting Felix’s dad? And not Felix?”

“Sure, but it’s Felix I am most grateful for. Because without him, I would’ve never met everyone else… and Chan,” you patted Felix’s bomber with your eyes closed and expected him to feel touched by your words. 

“Why say it like that? What differentiates Chan from everyone else?” Jeongin asked with a small pout on his lips. Chan wanted to know as well. He didn’t know why you paused a little before saying his name. Was he special to you in any way? 

Yeah. What differentiates Chan from everyone else? 

“Stop asking me, and let’s move on to Felix. It hurts to think,” you complained.

↫ iv ↬

“Oi bro, today was fun. But I’m fucking wasted,” Felix burped. He leaned his head against the door frame while intensely staring at the door handle. Concentration was key, literally. Felix needed to press the correct keys or else you, him, and Chan would be sleeping in the front yard tonight. Nobody was home. 

“You good there, buddy?” Chan asked with a concerned tone. 

Felix entered the correct code and the numbers on the keypad lit up blue, making him internally jumping with happiness. “Ohh hell yeah. Uh-”

Then, he pushed through the door, startling Chan as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen to hurl into the nearest trash can. Chan quickly went after Felix while still carrying you on his back. “Bro,” he cringed at the loose chunks in the trash can and rubbed Felix’s back, “Keep throwing up, it’ll definitely make you feel better. I’m gonna get you some water. Just let me take Y/N upstairs.”

Felix waved Chan off and said he’d be fine. He was going to go straight to his room afterward, change into his pajamas, and chug the huge hydro flask by his bed. It seems like Felix planned for this to happen, so Chan didn’t have to worry much. 

Chan carried you upstairs to the guest room and carefully unwrapped your arms from his neck when he sat on the bed. When he let go, you hit the back of your head against the headboard and whined in pain. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. 

“Ugh, how long have I been out for,” you said, clutching onto the back of your head. 

Chan shrugged, turning around to look at you. “Just the ride back home.”

“I’m not looking forward to a hangover tomorrow.”

You expected Chan to respond but there was no reply. When you peeked one eye open, he was gone. You sighed, rolling to your side to face the window. Why did you feel so puzzled all of a sudden? 

“Are you asleep?” A voice whispered from the end of the bed. 

It was Chan and he had a tall glass of water in his hands. You sat up, thanking him as you took the glass and greedily drank from it. When you finished, you placed it onto the nightstand before laying on your back again. 

“Am I different?” Chan suddenly asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like, am I different from the others?” 

You lightly shoved his arm with your foot. “Other guys? Yeah, you’re CB97.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. “No, actually, never mind,” he said, changing his mind. 

You frowned and sat up. Then, you nudged his arm, bugging him to tell you, “What is it? Tell me, Bang Chan.”

When you whined, even more, he softly chuckled, facing you with a smile. The only source of light came from outside’s yard lamp through the window slits. You held in a breath when he leaned in. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

↫ v ↬

“Y/N, why are we doing this? You know I can’t bake.”

Felix frowned at the baking instructions displayed on his phone. He was having a hard time converting grams to ounces because the mixer was too disruptive. It was annoyingly loud. For the love of god, he spilled some powdered sugar onto the counter. 

“I need help, Lix. It’s hard to make macarons by myself,” you huffed, blowing a strand of your bangs out of the way. 

“What’s in it for me? I could be sleeping in right now,” Felix scoffed but went to the cupboard to grab sugar, salt, and almond flour. 

“You get to spend quality time with me for free. Also, you can eat delicious strawberry macarons. They’re your favorite.”

He shook his head, “No, they’re Chan’s favorite. I already knew your intentions the moment you asked to come over. And, I like banana flavored.”

“What’s with you and banana?”

“Don’t you just love the way it’s pronounced? Banana,” he smiled, thinking about bananas. 

Handing Felix the electric mixer, you bossed him around, enjoying every moment of it, “No, now beat the eggs with the mixer until it becomes stiff peaks,” 

“Y/N, If you like Chan, it’s okay to admit it. I won’t judge you,” he said, cracking a couple eggs into a large bowl, then scooped the yolks into a smaller bowl, “But I’ll make fun of you.”

You paused whatever you were doing to ask, “Why’d you say that out of the blue? That’s odd.” 

“Look,” he paused, “When have you ever went out of your way to gift homemade cookies for someone? This is cute child’s play Y/N.” 

“Never. But everyone is getting a share of this batch, so I don’t know why you’re quick to assume,” you nervously shrugged. Why were you nervous? There was no reason. 

“But who were you thinking of surprising when you bought the ingredients?” 

You eyed the egg whites sliding off the cracked eggshells in his hand as they slowly dripped into the mixing bowl. Cringing at his sloppiness, you told him to start mixing and less talking. “Why would I like him, it’d never work out between us,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Just don’t complain to me when he comes back with a girlfriend from his study abroad program,” Felix annoyingly sang, hitting the power button on the electric mixer. You felt something inside of you sort of snap.

“What?” You asked. 

“You’re not the only girl he’s friends with. You know that right?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. You were no special exception and it somehow made you feel more hopeless. Felix knew his words must’ve triggered something so he decided to tone it down.

“As your best friend, I know when you’re into someone. This time, it’s different. You may not think you’ve liked Chan for a long time, but trust me, I know,” Felix turned down the mixer to add some sugar with the whipped egg whites, “No matter how many guys you’ve liked in the past, you’d always set them aside for Chan. You don’t do things like having late-night phone calls, binge-watching One Piece, or bake fancy cookies for anyone else. Only Chan. Admit it before I knock some sense into you, idiot. You have a soft spot for him.”

“I do not…” You said in denial, but who were you trying to convince?

“Whatever,” Felix gave up and rolled his eyes. He adjusted the speed of the electric mixer, adding the rest of the sugar into the whipped egg whites. 

When Felix finished whipping the egg whites, they became stiff peaks. He removed the mixer from the bowl, distracted by the mixture’s consistency and unwillingness to budge. “Hey, Y/N,” he tapped your shoulder before holding the bowl of stiff peaks upside down above his head, “Check this out.”

“YONGBOK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You screamed his Korean name, hoping the mix wouldn’t fall onto his head and get on the floor. 

“Look, it’s not falling hehehe,” Felix laughed, remembering how he saw something like this in a Tasty video. 

You grabbed Felix’s shoulders in hopes of him putting the bowl down but then he placed it over your head and laughed. “Oh my god, if it gets in my hair, I’m gonna kill you,” you vigorously shook him. 

Felix laughed and put you in a headlock, threatening to coat your face in stiff peaks. “You started it by calling me Yongbok.”

“Yongbok, Yongbokie, LEE YONGBOK,” you giggled when he locked you in tighter. His soft hoodie tickled your neck and you were scared of getting smeared with the cookie mixture. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Felix dropped his arm to his side and placed the mixing bowl onto the counter. You stood up, fixing your now messy ponytail and awkwardly coughed. 

Chan stood by the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed, looking somewhat displeased. You looked anywhere else but him. When you finally made eye contact with Chan, he quickly avoided it and cleared his throat. “I just came to say goodbye,” he said. 

“But isn’t your flight at 5?” Felix glanced at his oven’s built-in clock, “It’s not even noon yet and you’re already leaving?” 

“My parents want to have lunch with me before dropping me off at the airport. They invited my grandparents and other relatives, so it’s going to take a while.”

“Do the rest know?” 

Chan nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to head back to grab my luggage after lunch, but I messaged them earlier and came to say goodbye just in case.”

Felix walked over to Chan and gave him the tightest bear hug, “Take care and stay safe. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yeah, and take care as well,” Chan smiled. 

“For sure.”

When their hug was over, Felix said he needed to grab a charger from upstairs because his phone was about to die. You didn’t want to be alone with Chan because you were afraid of acting weird around him, then no one could save you. “What are you two making?” Chan nodded at the mess in the kitchen. 

You shyly smiled, “Uh… Cookies? Hey Chan, are you going to stop by here again after your family lunch?”

“Maybe not, I’m not sure. I’ll call you if I do.”

“Hmmm, okay,” you nodded awkwardly, “I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you know it,” Chan smiled and began teasing, “Better not be a crybaby once I leave.” 

You slapped his arm, “It won’t happen again, just let it gooo.”

“Hmm, nooo,” he laughed. 

When Chan’s laughter died down, he stared at you with a small sigh. You were acting a little different today and he kind of had an idea as to why. He thought you sensed something unusual about his behavior, making you feel awkward towards him. He just wanted to board the plane right now and get his thoughts settled. 

Chan wanted you to give him a hug like always but you refrained from doing so. By the time Felix came back down with his charger, he sensed the weird atmosphere and mouthed to you, ‘What did you do?’

You narrowed your eyes at him and Chan’s phone rang at the same time. It was Lucas on the other line, asking when his brother would be home since their grandparents would be arriving soon. Chan took that as a cue to be on his way, leaving you in the kitchen as Felix walked him out of the front door. 

Felix came into the kitchen confused, “What happened when I was gone?” 

“Nothing, we were just talking.” 

“Do you think we’re going to finish baking these macarons by the time he leaves to the airport?” Felix scratched his head. 

“I hope so,” you sighed. If you worked efficiently enough, it’s possible to finish on time. 

Chan quietly sat in the back seat of the minivan with his younger siblings on the way back from the restaurant. He’d usually bug Hannah about her recent boy crushes or watch Lucas play Monster Hunter on his 3DS. This time, he stared out the window with his EarPods in. A lot was on his mind. 

Chan felt sort of jealous, then stupid, then fine again. It was a cycle on his way back to the house. He knew Felix didn’t have any romantic feelings for you, but the tinge of jealousy would not leave his system. Chan let himself into the house when Felix had just finished mixing whatever. He was curious as to why Felix was up so early since his best friend tends to sleep in till noon during breaks. 

When Chan heard your voice, his ears perked up like a dog. He felt excited to see you and walked into the kitchen, hoping to surprise you. Instead, Chan himself was surprised when he found Felix holding you in a headlock. You were laughing and squirming in Felix’s hold, making Chan wish he didn’t see that. 

Not once have you laughed like that with Chan since he came back to visit. Chan thought you developed a crush on Felix but haven’t told him. But how could you not? You always tell Chan everything. He didn’t care if you liked someone… So what?

When they arrived home, Chan’s father pulled into the driveway. Everyone went inside to rest for a little while before sending him off to the airport. Chan still needed to go upstairs, so he could grab his things and load them into the trunk. After carrying his luggage downstairs and to the minivan, Chan popped open the trunk, halfway loading his things but stopped when his phone went off. 

He picked up the call with his earphones, unaware of the person calling, “Hello?” 

“H-have you left to the airport yet? Or are you still at home?” You said, heavily panting on the other line of the call. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked surprised, “I’m still at home. I just got back.” He waited for you to answer but you had already hung up. “Hello? Y/N?”

“Chan!” You ran up to him, exhausted and a little sweaty. Then, you placed a hand on your waist to keep yourself up as you slowly regain your breath. 

“Did you run here?” 

“Yes.”

“What? Why?”

You stuck your hand into the inside of your denim jacket and fished out a decent packaged goodie bag. “I didn’t want you to leave empty-handed, so I made you these.”

You never fail to catch Chan off guard these days. He slowly unraveled the bag as if it were a delicate rose, and peeked inside to see a couple of pink macarons. Although several of them were cracked because Felix opened the oven midway into baking, causing them to deflate, there were some good ones. 

“Is this what you were baking with Lix?” Chan asked. When you nodded, a smile couldn’t help but form on his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry if I didn’t ask you to stay or say much. I wanted it to be a surprise,” you shyly glanced around him, hoping he’d try one of the cracked cookie sandwiches. 

“Huh, I would’ve never guessed,” Chan laughed. As dumb as it sounds, he felt better knowing you were thinking of him. 

You peeked into his goodie bag, “Are you going to try one?”

“Yeah, here,” he handed you one before taking a bite of his own. 

You thought it was cute when Chan slowly chewed on the cookie. His eyes formed into crescents once he recognized the flavor. After finishing one macaron, he wrapped the bag, closing it and stuffed it into his pocket, “I’m saving these for when I wait to board the plane.”

“Here, eat mine,” you offered the uneaten macaron in your hand. 

“You don’t like strawberries?” 

“No, I do. But I know you like them more, so here,” you brought the miniature sandwich to his lips, smiling when he opened his mouth. 

“Fanks, tho good,” Chan said with a mouthful. 

“Ew, chew with your mouth closed.”

“Hmmm,” he swallowed the last of the macaron, “I said they’re really good, and thank you.”

Sighing in relief, you said, “Of course, I’m glad they come out burnt.”

“They came out kinda ugly though.”

You hit Chan’s bicep. “Then don’t eat them,” you held your hand out, “Return them.”

Chan laughed but reached into his pocket. Instead of handing the cookies back, he grabbed your hand and pulled you in for a hug. As his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he hugged tighter. You uncontrollably smiled, returning his hug and laughed at his sly move. Chan notices how he loves it when he’s this close to you. It makes him feel good to be around you. 

He likes to do this thing where he rocks you back and forth in his arms. You remembered the first time he did it was when you were juniors in high school. You embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked at the time and felt down for the whole day. It wasn’t until after school where you were forced to tag along with Felix and Chan to eat pizza which made you feel better. Although you weren’t by the time you met up with them, both caught the sight of your glossy eyes. 

Felix said he had to head back early because he needed to study for a bio test, but you and Chan both knew he would end up playing video games instead. Chan bought you a smoothie and walked you home since it was on the way to his. Before he let you go, he gave you a bear crushing hug, rocking you back and forth while telling you to cheer up and stop being a crybaby. His way of cheering you up always made you laugh and feel warm inside. 

Chan was your big, swol teddy bear. 

Fuck it, you liked him... It didn’t matter. You will deal with it later. 

“Did you really think I’d give them back?” He playfully teased. 

“If you did, I will never make you anything ever again. Ungrateful jerk,” you huffed, pretending to be angry. 

“Nah, I’d never,” he said softly. 

“When are you leaving?” You said, your voice a little muffled from being too close against his jacket. 

“Pretty soon. We’re just waiting for my dad to get off his food coma.”

“Ohh okay.”

Still hugging you, Chan felt like he really needed to say it. You already know though and it wouldn’t change anything, but a strange feeling of realization hit him. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted to give you a light kiss on your forehead. Wow, he likes you and he is finally sure of his feelings. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna miss you,” Chan took a deep breath, “I always do, so don’t be a crybaby when I leave.”

↫ vi ↬

Chan rushed back to his dorm, feeling a surge of inspiration out of nowhere. It was a pain to sit through the last half of class when he was so eager to leave. He was excited to hop on his keyboard to work on a mix. 

Once he stepped into his room, he dumped his backpack onto the floor and stripped off his hoodie, tossing it onto the bed. Then, he pulled out the keyboard pad from his desk and began to set up his laptop and headphones. 

It was perfect. 

Chan was afraid he’d lose the beat or lyrics that came to his mind earlier, but he got it down pretty quick. Now, the hard part. He had to find a way for it to flow smoothly together. He hummed, his head bobbing to the new beat, but something was still lacking. 

“Maybe if I move this here, the transitioning would be a lot better,” Chan clicked on his mouse and dragged one of the clips, inserting it into the mix. When he replayed the sound, he smiled in content. 

CB97’s back, baby.

Just when he felt like he could add in another element, an incoming call interrupted his train of thought. It was from you. 

He picked up the call and swiped into the clock app to check the time zone in Sydney. His eyes widened, why were you calling him 12:30 in the morning? Did something happen?

“Hello? Y/N?” Chan said to the other line. 

“I’m bored,” you said. 

He laughed. “Why are you calling me? Are you by yourself?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head, “I’m with Lix, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin. Eww, Lix just threw up in the bushes.”

Chan cringed at the sound of his best friend hurling on the other line. It reminded him of the last time he went bar hopping with you and everyone. Now that Chan knew you were drinking, it was obvious you were drunk too. 

“Why’d you call?”

“I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know… Hyunjin started calling his girlfriend midway through finishing his drink. Then Changbin called his to confess how much he likes her. And don’t get me started on Jisung,” you tiredly watched Jisung rub soothing circles on Felix’s back. 

“What about Jisung?” Chan chuckled, urging you to continue. 

“He FaceTimed his girlfriend and said he loves her and misses her even though he knows she’s going to kick his ass for getting drunk,” you sighed. 

“Then what?”

“Felix didn’t have anyone to call. He only searched up Momo on google images and angrily pointed at Heechul to treat her right or else he would fly to Korea to square up,” you laughed, starting to feel a little sick too. 

“What about you? Did you have anyone to call?” Chan removed himself from his desk and plopped onto his bed. 

“No, only you. There’s no one else to call, I don’t like anyone else,” you said truthfully. 

“Wow, so I was your last resort,” he joked. 

You felt liquid courage giving you a booster. Shaking your head, you sighed deeply as you watched Felix cough up the last of his partially digested pizza. “Never, I like you too much. I didn’t call anyone else because you’re the only one I want to talk to. So, no. Not my last resort, more like my automatic first choice,” you confessed. 

“Sure.”

“No, I mean it. I love you so much. I just want to hug you all day long. You have no idea how much I miss you,” you whined. 

Chan’s smile faltered and his heart began to race. There’s no way you meant that, did you? 

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to feel like throwing up but not enough to actually throw up,” you groaned at the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“Will you remember what you just said to me when you wake up tomorrow?”

“Of course. I always remember! Remember, you said I would someday drunk call somebody. Well, you were right,” you giggled.

Boy, he hoped so. Chan was shaken but couldn’t do much because you were intoxicated. If you did like him, he wanted you to confess when you’re actually sober. That way, Chan would know you were being serious. 

“Who’s not wasted? Can you hand them your phone?” Chan rolled in his bed while anxiously waiting. 

“Hello?” A familiar raspy voice asked. 

“Hey Bin, is everyone sleeping over at someone’s house tonight?”

“Oh, hey,” Changbin said tiredly, “Yeah, we’re going to head back to Felix’s soon. Just haven’t called an Uber yet because Y/N’s been on the phone. Everyone’s phones pretty much died.”

“That’s good,” Chan mumbled to himself, “Can you do me a favor and take care of Y/N for me? Just make sure she gets into a bed and drinks a glass of water before she sleeps. She’ll be fine by the time you guys get to the house since she sobers pretty fast.”

“Honestly, you should be here. She’s been talking about you all night long, but it’s Gucci. I’m gonna take care of everyone,” Changbin nonchalantly shrugged. It was no biggie to him. 

“Just keep an eye out for her and everyone else,” Chan sighed. 

Changbin nodded, “Yessir. I am going to order an Uber now, I’ll talk to you later. Oh shit, Y/N just threw up.”

“What? Wait-“

Although Chan’s heart was still pounding, he figured to leave it until tomorrow when you sobered up. He couldn’t stop rolling in his bed and suddenly felt more homesick. He didn’t know whether or not he should call you first thing tomorrow after his brunch with a classmate. Or maybe he should wait for you to say something? 

Either way, you drove him nuts. Both good and bad. 

The next morning, you stormed downstairs to look for the person who made you go out last night. He slept on the couch, snoring lightly and draped an arm over his eyes. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you angrily tossed one of the couch pillows at a hungover Felix. 

Felix tiredly rubbed his eyes. You woke him up and he palmed every spot on the couch for his phone. “What now?” He asked. 

“I should’ve never gone with you guys. I’m screwed,” you said in distress. 

“You’re so LOUD, I’m TRYNA SLEEP Y/N,” Jisung crankily got up from the couch and walked into Felix’s room to join Changbin under the covers. 

“What did I do?” Felix asked again. 

“I should have never gone drinking last night. I fucked up everything, I can’t bear to see Chan or even talk to him again,” you said, pacing back and forth in front of the TV. 

Felix laughed, “Did you drunk call him and confess?”

“I think so, something along the lines of that,” you tried to remember your exact words but brain fart. 

“Oh shit,” he chuckled. 

“It’s not funny,” you began tearing up, “I messed up everything. It won’t be the same anymore. I don’t want Chan to avoid and stop talking to me because of these stupid feelings.”

Alarmed with your glossy eyes, Felix jumped from the couch even though he still felt nauseous from last night. He patted your back, holding in a laugh when you blinked away some tears. You reminded him of Jeongin. “Y/N, you’re worrying over nothing. Chan’s not going to do that to you, trust me. You know, confessions don’t mean much when you’re drunk.”

Sniffling, you asked him, “What do you mean they don’t mean much when you’re drunk? There’s truth to those words.” 

“Being intoxicated makes you say a lot of things you would not choose to say if you were sober. One time, I even said Changbin’s arms were hot. Can you believe that?” He scoffed. 

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty thick.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “The point is, confessions are meaningful when you’re sober. There’s something about being fully aware of your words and having the courage to say it without having to rely on liquid courage. Your confession was most likely taken lightly. You were just letting a friend know you miss him, like a lot, but that’s it.”

“So everything will be okay?”

“Yes, so stop worrying.”

↫ vii ↬

But everything wasn’t okay. 

Chan kicked off his shoes and fell into bed right after his last final. It’s been almost two weeks since he last talked to you (you drunk calling him in the middle of the day), and he felt stuck. When he sent you messages and memes, you wouldn’t respond or would leave him on read. Sometimes, it’d be a miracle if you gave him short responses. Even then, the atmosphere was off and he didn’t know how to keep initiating without the conversation being cut short. 

On days like this, it’d be perfect to compose something, anything. However, Chan kept deleting newly recorded beats, dissatisfied with its quality and flow. He gave up and quit all his open programs. 

Without thinking about the different time zones, Chan went on Discord. His cursor hovered over your icon before he clicked on it. It’s now or never, he thought. Chan felt his heart pounding over a simple video call. He didn’t even know if you were going to answer. It’s better to not get his hopes up. 

When the server rang, he anxiously clicked open some tabs to respond to Felix and check Facebook. 

“Hello?” You asked, dreading the moment he called you. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked, surprised you answered. He stared at the monitor, taking in the image of you working on something in your notebook.  

“Hey,” you sighed. 

Chan’s brows furrowed. He grew concerned at the time of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired. You know, the same thing always happening at school and work,” you lied, avoiding his stare. His gaze was still piercing through a screen. 

“Doesn’t seem like it. You usually talk about school and work, but you haven’t been doing so lately. Let alone at all,” Chan sadly stared at the screen as you pretended to be writing something important down. 

“Sorry, I’ve been pretty stressed lately. I haven’t had the time to talk or call,” you apologized, feeding him another lie. Oh, but he knew you were avoiding him. 

“You should’ve sent me a message or called me at least. It’s better to talk about it, Y/N. Keeping worries to yourself only make matters worse.”

“I’ll try to.”

Fed up with the tension, Chan frustratedly combed his hair with his fingers, “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know you’ve been ignoring me. If it’s about that night you drunk called me, I’ll drop it. I know you don’t do homework at this time, especially on a Friday night.”

You dropped your pencil and stayed silent. Chan could only do so much on a screen. He stared at you, waiting for you to respond. It was dead silent because you could hear his hallmates talking in a foreign language as they passed by his door.

“Are you really not going to say anything?”

Finally looking up, you wiped off the tears that fell down to your cheeks, sighing. Chan sat up in his chair, worried he messed up. He thought you were going to end the call but held in a breath when you said, “What am I supposed to say? That, I’m sorry for having feelings for you? You say you can easily drop it, but I can’t.”

Chan let his hand cover his mouth, trying to hide his troubled expression. “Who said it was easy to drop it?”

“It’s not, but I screwed up… You’re aware of my feelings towards you. I can still remember that night’s conversation, and I know you do as well,” you covered your face, you didn’t want him to see you crying and looking like Rudolph, “It’s just going to be awkward for us the next time we’ll see each other. Everyone will sense it too. You’ll end up avoiding me.”

“Why do you say that? How can I avoid you? I’ve known you for years. That’s the least of your worries,” Chan said, frowning at your reasoning. He was utterly baffled. 

You slammed your palms onto the desk. “How is that the least of my worries? I like you more than a friend would, Chan. I have feelings for you, but I feel like I’m on the verge of losing one of the closest people in my life, you.”

You were both practically raising your voices on each other. 

He frustratedly started off strong, “What if you said those words to me when you were drunk but don’t actually mean it when you’re sober,” but finished in a small voice, “Then what?” 

“But that didn’t happen, so there’s no point in bringing up another possibility,” you softly said. 

“So what? Are you going to take back what you said? Because you can’t.”

Your heart dropped, and you wanted to bawl. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and ended the call. 

You shut off your laptop and sat in your chair crying. When you got into bed, you curled into a ball with a tissue box beside you. You felt horrible. Everything was a mess. After going through twenty-something tissues, the mini trash can by your desk was filled with snot balls and evaporated tears. Exhausted and too tired to cry anymore, your eyelids slowly dropped until a notification popped up on the screen of your phone. 

It was a Surprise LIVE! from Monsta X. 

You chucked your phone away and it fell off the bed and onto the wooden floor. As if you cared about watching them live right now. If your ultimate bias couldn’t cheer you up with his smile, nothing could. 

You retrieved your phone to find a message from Chan. He only sent you a link directing you to Spotify playlist titled: 

↫ viii ↬ “I’m back and you didn’t even come with Lix to the airport to come to get me? I’m so hurt,” Chan pretended to be offended. He placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt as you laughed at his attempt to be petty. Afterward, he excused himself to change into a more comfortable outfit and muted you on Discord.

When Chan finally unmuted the call, you blew a raspberry and stuck your tongue out at the camera. “I couldn’t, I was out of town. I just got back an hour ago,” you yawned, stretching your arms into the air. Then you spun around in your chair, coming to a complete stop when you saw him wearing a new sweatshirt.

“I knowww,” Chan dragged, taking a seat in front of his monitor again, “I’m surprised I’m not that jet lag.”

“It’ll catch up to you, trust me,” you rolled your eyes at the memory of your own jet lag experience. It was horrible. “Is that new? The quality looks expensive, what’s it made of?” You asked about his sweatshirt.

Chan touched the black fabric, pinching it between his fingers to emphasize his next words, “You can say it’s… boyfriend material…” He shyly laughed when you palmed your face at his cheesy joke, but you were laughing too. “I’M JOKING, ENOUGH,” he smiled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that, Chan,” you teased.

He looked down at his sweatshirt, searching for any flaws. “Why? Does it look ugly on me?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head, “You’re a fraud.”

“For what?”

“As much as you’re wearing something that’s boyfriend material, are you boyfriend material?” You teased him again as he could only smile back at you. He took your hint pretty well.

Chan pretended to shrug and spun in his chair. He briefly stared at the ceiling, thinking of what to say next. When Chan looked into the lens, he chuckled softly, “Can I? Or shall I?”

“Can you what?” You didn’t get it.

“Be your boyfriend.”

You blushed and fell silent. Chan wiggled his eyebrows, feeling like he won this time. It was your turn to get teased by him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Ask me again in person,” you looked away from the screen of your laptop to hide your warm cheeks.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

“What?”

“Come over now,” Chan eagerly suggested.

It was obvious that he was super excited and wanted to see you in person. He was like a kid on a sugar high.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

When his joke was being repeated by someone else other than him, you, he tilted his head in confusion. “What?” He asked.

“Can I? Or shall I? Be your girlfriend.”

Bang Chan didn’t even have to think twice. “Yes.”

“Well, come on and get over here then,” you laughed.

“Be there in fifteen.”

↫ ix ↬

“Wow, that movie is so good. It’s the best one I’ve seen all year long,” Chan gushed as you searched for places to grab a quick drink before going home.

You both had just finished watching Parasite, a movie about a lower class family benefiting from a wealthy family. From the trailers you’ve watched with Chan, you both thought it was going to be some kind of horror movie. However, the plot was totally unexpected and kept you on your toes. 

Chan paid attention to the road but felt your eyes land on him. You smiled, adding on to what he was probably going to say next, “I’d say it deserves a ten out of ten from me.”

You navigated him to the nearest boba shop. To Chan’s luck, he found an open parking spot a few shops away from the place. When you got out of the car, the strong breeze hit your face, causing you to scrunch your nose. Chan noticed, so he put your hood on and tightly pulled onto the strings of your hoodie. You squealed, leaning away as he laughed. 

As you kept walking, you were tired of having your hand brush against his. So, you took his hand into yours, slowly entwining your fingers with his while holding them up to show him. Chan covered his face because he found you so cute. He wanted to give you a hug. 

“Can I see your wallet?” Chan asked. 

You didn’t know why but you gave it to him anyway. You were fine with it since he’s already seen your cringy IDs since high school. “Why, what are you going to do with it?” 

He ignored your question and approached the cashier, leaving you in the booth by yourself, asking, “Hi, can I get two roasted rice milk teas? Yeah, and with boba too.”

Then, Chan brought his phone out of his pocket, using  Apple Pay as you stood there in disbelief. He walked back to the booth, taking your hand in his and returned your wallet. “Wow, you’re sly,” you slapped his hand away. 

Chan chuckled, playing with the order number at his fingertips, “You can pay next time.”

“Oh, I will,” you stuck your tongue out. 

Once your drinks were out, Chan drove you back to your place. You sat in the car with him, getting nervous when he turned off the engine. “Do you wanna… “ He threw in a suggestion. 

You didn’t even let him finish. “W-wanna what?” 

Chan held back a small laugh, “I was wondering,” and he paused, “If you wanted to take a stroll around the neighborhood before we call it a night.”

You wanted to repeatedly slap your forehead for having inappropriate thoughts in the first place. When you didn’t give Chan an answer, he threw in another suggestion. “Unless it’s too cold outside, we can go back to my place and hang out with Berry,” he shrugged. 

Your eyes lit up at the mention of Berry. Your love for dogs was the same as it was for boba, and you excitedly nodded. Chan shook his head and rolled eyes his at your childlike reaction. He started his car again, reversing to give him some leeway and drove into the streets. His place wasn’t far from yours, it was only a five-minute drive and a fifteen-minute walk. 

After parking his car into the driveway, you bolted out of your seat and waited for him to catch up to you at the door. Chan teased you for being more excited to see Berry instead of him. When you said, ‘Of course,’ he stopped in the middle of unlocking the door and raised an eyebrow. 

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You can find your own ride back home, then.”

He bit his lip to prevent a smile from forming on his lips when you linked your arms with his, saying ‘sorry’ while begging him to drive you back home later. Of course, Chan was going to take you back. He wanted to make sure you were heading into your house safe and sound. When he finally unlocked the door, Berry woke up and shook herself before approaching the familiar scent of her owner. You heard small footsteps and the bell of her collar tinkling as she walked up to you and Chan. 

He petted her head, giving it a quick scratch before kicking his shoes off. You crouched down to pet Berry while she heavily sniffed your ankles and socks. There was a dog scent coming from you because you have a dog back at home too. 

Chan flipped on the lights and went to the kitchen to dump his empty drink into the motion sensor trash bin. When he walked into the living room, you had Berry laying flat on your chest and stomach. Her head pointed towards you and she cutely blinked, slowly beginning to fall asleep until Chan sat next to you. 

She got up, edging herself between you two and laid on her stomach, waiting for Chan to give her a belly rub. As he rubbed her belly, you looked around the living room and noticed the house was quiet. “Where’s everybody?” You asked. 

“Hannah’s at a sleepover and Lucas went with my parents to see a show. So I guess it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna see what I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling nervous again. Chan carried Berry back to her doggie bed by the fireplace, giving her one last pet before heading upstairs with you. When you walked into his room, you rolled your eyes at the giant monitors on his desk. Chan turned on his computer, satisfied with its smooth powering up, and typed in his password when the login appeared onto the screen.

Distracted by his light-up keyboard and mouse, you weren’t aware of him asking you to have a seat on his bed. Chan shook his head, handing you the mouse. “Go for it,” he offered you to change the color of his setup. 

When you handed back the mouse, Chan searched for a folder titled: CB97 and clicked on a file that opened into an audio clip. He played it for you, a soft smile appearing on his lips when you bobbed to the beat. “Do you have a name for this song in the making?”

“I’m thinking of… Hoodie Season?”

“I like that title,” you fell onto the bed as he played more clips for you to hear. When your eyelids were slowly beginning to droop, both yours and Chan’s phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat notification from Hyunjin. 

You reached into your butt pocket, whipping out your phone to take a look at whatever irrelevant thing Hyunjin would send to you at this time. When you opened his message, it was a recorded memory from a couple weeks back. 

“Yo, I’m sick as fuuu-“ Felix hyped himself until he threw up into the nearest bush outside of the local bar. Thank god the snap ended before you could see anything coming out, but it was still fun to watch. 

You giggled and pressed onto the next video.

“I miss you, I love you, and I know you’re going to kick my ass when you see me tomorrow,” Jisung whined to his girlfriend on the phone, “If you kick my ass, you will regret it. Then, you won’t have a nice ass to look at and touch anymore.”

Then the camera pointed at you. “You’re so gross,” you fake gagged and took out your own phone to dial your crush, “God, I miss Chan.”

Before you could finish watching the whole thing, you internally screamed inside your head and quickly skipped that part. “What was that?” Chan asked, plopping onto the bed to watch the video when he heard his name being said out loud. 

You immediately chucked the screen away, facing it down onto the bed, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Chan said, trying to peer over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you tried to roll away, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, reaching for your phone with his free hand. You pleaded for him to not look, and he did exactly the opposite. 

Chan watched your drunk self confessing to him on the phone from that night. No matter how hard you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp and steal your phone back, he was too strong for you to do so. When the part where you handed your phone to Changbin came up, Hyunjin flipped the camera back to selfie mode to display his face. 

Hyunjin drunkenly pointed his index finger at the camera, trying to prove a point. “And that’s how you get back at Jisung and Y/N.” Several moments later, his eyes widened, “OH My GOD, Y/N.” 

You guessed the recording ended when you threw up. Not a good memory.

Your mouth went agape. Hyunjin did both you and Jisung dirty. 

“I’m going to kill him,” you said, clenching your fist. 

“And I’m going to screen record that from my phone,” Chan laughed, extending his arm to the desk for his phone until you pushed his shoulders back down. He landed onto the bed with a light thud, wrapping his arms around your waist again. Chan stared at your flushed cheeks, softly chuckling at your persistence to prevent him from watching your most embarrassing moment in life once more.

You glanced down to his lips, admiring his prominent cupid’s bow and held in a breath. Chan stared into your eyes, his eyes trailing down your nose, and then to your lips lovingly. Grinning like a fool, he was happy to have you as his and in his arms. Chan bit his lip, stopping the softest smile from spreading across his lips. He knew he failed to keep his cool. While his grip on your waist loosened, he brought a hand to your cheek, gently cupping it with his smooth palm. 

Chan leaned in, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips when you nervously gulped. You didn’t even have time to think because his lips were suddenly on yours. Chan pressed on slowly, grabbing your thigh to hitch you closer to him. You fluttered your eyes shut, savoring the taste of his lips as he took control. Chan loved the feeling of having your hands run down from his shoulders and to his chest. He’s honestly the master of the teasing game, lightly nipping at your bottom lip and flicking his tongue at the entrance of your mouth. Before he could deepen the kiss, he flipped you over, so that you’d be lying under him instead. Chan didn’t know where the night would take him and you didn’t either. 

But it is what it is, so he made sure to lock the door, just in case.

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Hi :) Could you write enzo (tvd) x reader please? His girlfriend lost her humanity after someone she loved was killed, and enzo try everything he can for her to get it back (and succeeds)

Yes! Here it is!! ❤️🖤❤️

Request still open.

⚠️⚠️Warnings ⚠️⚠️ torcher, death, loss of humanity, sad, angst. Angsty with a happy ending?

Fandom: The vampire diaries

Pairing: Enzo x reader

Posted: (7-10-20) 1:05 am

Y/n’s world crushed when her brother was killed by Damon Salvatore. Damon was being an asshole and decided he was going to kill some random person, just because Elena didn’t want to be with him. He drained Y/ns brother dry of blood. What was worse was he knew it was Y/ns brother. He knew that Y/n was a friend of Elenas. That maybe if he killed her brother it would make Elena feel upset. But that wasn’t the case.

Y/n walked into her house that she shared with her slightly younger brother. -he was only about a year or two younger than her.

“Jackson!” She called, sitting her bag on the sofa as she walked through the living room to the kitchen to grab a blood bag. - her brother knew she was a vampire.

“Jack?” Y/n asked as she noticed a puddle of blood on the hardwood floor in the kitchen.

“Oh my god.” Y/ns voice broke as she fell down beside her brother. Her arms wrapped around him as tears went down her face.

He was the last member of her family. All her other family either didn’t talk to them or was dead.

“Please, don’t leave me.” She cried as she held onto him.

She already knew was dead so she didn’t even try to give him any of her blood.

“Please!” She sobbed into her brothers chest. She could see the two puncture wounds on his neck. She knew who did this, which made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t leave me. Your the only thing I have left.” She cried for hours until she couldn’t no more. Her phone rang, but she never answered it. She couldn’t pull herself away from her brothers cold dead body.

A couple hours later she heard knocking at the door, but didn’t answer it. Whoever was knocking on the door let themselves in.

“Y/n, love. You never answered my calls. What’s goin- Oh my god. What happen?” Enzo asked as he bent down to H/n holding her brother.

“He killed him.” She cried holding onto her baby brother as if it would bring him back.

“He knew if he hurt me he would hurt Elena. But he went to far, Enzo.” She cried as she held on her brother tighter. Afraid to let go.

“Damon did this?” Enzo asked as he looked down at his girlfriend of 3 years.

She nodded as she wiped her teary eye.

“I’m going to make him pay.” He whispered looking at Y/n. She shook her head as she looked down at her brother. He noticed her take a deep breath then close her eyes.

“Y/n, Love.” He started slowly as he noticed what she was doing.

Grabbing her shoulders he shook her.

“Don’t, y/n. Cutting it off isn’t going to help not won’t bring him back.”

Y/n smirked as she opened her eyes back open. Her once bright y/e/c eyes were dark no emotion left in them.

“No, but it will make it easier for me to kill Damon.” With that she fled out the house to find Damon.

Enzo cursed as he grabbed his phone ringing Damon as fast as he could.

“Mate, you fucked up.”

“How did I fuck up? I feel good. I just had a fresh bite, and I’m feeling free as hell.” Damon slurred.

“Are you drunk, mate?” Enzo questioned as he started towards his car to go to the Salvatore house before his love.

“Just a little bit. (Knock knock). Hey look someone’s at the door. Probably my next meal. I’ll call you in a few minutes.”

“Damon, don’t.” Too late Damon hung you.

“Y/n, what can I do for you?” Damon asked allowing what he thought was his friend. But right now she wasn’t not a friend. She saw red. She was going to murder the oldest Salvatore is she could.

“You killed him. You killed my brother. So,” she starred at the man with a murderous glare.

“Oh, we’re talking about him. Yeah, didn’t really mean to. I mean, i just snapped and had myself a taste. Didn’t really know he died.” He chuckled looking at Y/n.

She growled as her y/e/c eyes turned red Veins appearing below her eyes.

“Look, we can talk this out can’t we. I mean, you saved him didn’t you.” Damon noticed the lack of humanity in her eyes and started to get nervous.

“I’m gonna kill you. But first a little bit of torcher.” Vamp running over to him she snapped his neck.

He thumped down to the floor “dead”.

Y/n grabbed him and pulled him to her car. Putting his body in the trunk and driving to her parents lake house in a different county.

Damon groaned as he slowly woke up. He tried to move his hands, but couldn’t his hands were chained down to the metal chair. He looked at his arm and noticed a IV going into his arm. He figured the IV was full of Vervain because he was burning from the inside out.

“Awe, look who’s awake. I thought you’d never wake up.” Y/n smirked as she walked over to Damon with a wooden stake in her hand.

“Your not gonna stake me.” Damon spoke confidently.

“Oh really, well..” she stabbed him quite literally in his back. Make him scream out in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I just back stabbed you.” She giggled.

“Bitch.”

“I prefer murdeous psycho bitch. Actually, because that’s what I’m about to do. Become a murderous Psyco bitch.”

She pulled the stake from his back twisting it making it hurt worse than what it needed.

“Look at what I stole from Jeremy. You see I know how to use a gun. Always have, my family. Well, my late family. Which is dead, by the way.” Y/n held the pistol with wooden bullets pointed it at Damon’s knee.

“I don’t think you need to walk for a while.” She said shooting him twice in both knees. He was hissed and yelped in pain.

“Now, the torcher is just beginning.” She whispered as she bent down put her face in his.

“How does vervain feel going through veins?” Y/n asked as she sat in a chair in front of the oldest Salvatore.

“I stings, you asshole.”

“Well, I don’t think stinging is good enough.” She laughed.

Walking over to a bucket with a bunch of vervain in it. She put on gloves she grabbed the vervain and walked back over to Damon.

“Open up.” She smirked. Shoving the vervain in his mouth.

“Ahhh!” Damon screamed in agony.

“This is just the beginning, Damon. Nobody is going to find us. Ever. Nobody knows where we are. And I ditched both of our phones. So they won’t be able to track us. Plus I have sage burning. So not even the most power witch will be able to find us.” She rambled with a smirk on her face.

This went on for days. Y/n would torcher him, drain his blood, replacing the blood with vervain, shoot him with the wooden bullets. Making sure not to puncture his heart. But to keep the torcher going as long as she could. That is until someone came knocking on the door.

“Company I wonder who that could be. Doesn’t matter.” Y/n said grabbing the stake and stabbing Damon in his ribs.

“Get up and walk.” She demanded after she unchained the man.

He was pale and weak. Barely able to walk. But did as he was told.

She dragged him by the chains and pulled him up the stairs to the front door where she seen Stefan, Enzo, Caroline, Bonnie and Elena standing.

“Oh, joy more people.” She sarcastically spoke looking at her friends and boyfriend.

“Oh my god.” Bonnie gasped looking at a bloody and weak Damon.

“What, oh this?” She giggled wickedly.

“This is nothing. You should see my brother. Spoiler alert, he’s dead.” Y/n laughed with no emotion.

Everyone in front of her noticed the lack of emotion.

“You can’t come in. I’m afraid. You see I had a special witch bitch friend of mine do a spell where nobody can come in here until Damon’s dead or until I decide they can. So, Bonnie. Elena, You can’t even come in here if you tried. And the rest of you well. You see your all vampire so I ain’t worried ‘bout. But how bout you enjoy the front stage view of me killing Damon.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this.” Stefan started looking at his brother and then to his friend.

“No, I do have to do this. He killed the last of my family. Do you understand how it feels to have all your family killed in front of you?!” Y/n yelled as she looked at the younger Salvatore her eyes starting to become glassy as some emotions started slowly coming back to her.

“Yes, I do.” Elena said breaking into the conversation.

“You have no part in this. It’s your fucking fought that my brothers dead. If you would’ve just said the goddamn truth about loving them both of them. My brother would be alive. I would have my humanity. But you know I like being without my humanity. I mean do you know how good it feels to bite into someone and not worry about draining them?!” Y/n bellowed as she made her way in front of the group.

“Y/n, love. Please let’s talk about this.” Enzo spoke softly looking at his broken girlfriend in tears.

“Please, let me be there for you. You don’t need to do this. It’ll hurt him worse if you let him live. He will have live with the guilt knowing her killed the last of your family.” Enzo tried to get her to not kill Damon.

Yes, everyone there was mad at Damon. But they weren’t going to murder him.

“No!” She bellowed holding her head as more feelings started breaking through the barrier.

“Just stop! Make it stop!!” She sobbed holding her head as all the things she has done in the pass three days come back to her.

“Come in.” She whispered to the four people in front of her.

“If you don’t get him, I swear to any god out there I will kill him.” Y/ns eyes flashed black and red.

“Just think about your family. Know they are in a better place. They wouldn’t want you like this.”

She felt Enzos arms go around her as Stefan and Caroline but their arms around Damon and taking him away.

“I’m so sorry.” Y/n cried as she felt all her humanity come back to her. Hitting her like a  title wave.

“It’s okay, love. It’s gonna be okay.” He kissed her forehead as he held her in her arms.

And it was okay. Y/n took her time to try to get back to normal. Luckily she wasn’t alone. Enzo was there the whole time for her. Anything she needed he was there for her. He loved her too much to just let her go.

[fletchphoenix]

October 27th

Part of a project I began ages ago about Hugo :) You can read the first part here if you’re interested, but this can be read as a stand alone piece if you want to :))

Chap 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651674/chapters/64995220

-------------------

Snow crunched under his feet, not very unusual weather for the fall in Pittsford, and his heels clicked against the cobbles as he made his way down the blackened alleyway, the only other sound accompanying it being the soft humming passing through his lips accompanied by little clouds of breath. Tightening the emerald scarf around his neck, he continued his descent into the cold winter’s night. At least he wouldn’t have to be out long for this job - Donella made it very clear that it was one of her associates and would go off without a hitch.

Yeah, as if.

Every time she claimed it was a ‘quick job’, it always ended up in a shoot out or at the very least someone dead on the floor of Pittsford. That's why it was always him sent out for her dirty work and, predictably, it was him once again to go and negotiate with some hot-shot crime boss for some firearm. Needless to say this is exactly what he wanted to be doing on his birthday. TOTALLY not sitting by a nice, warm fire in his admittedly tiny room with Olivia sitting on his shoulder. Not at all.

He knew he had a job to do for her to earn his place there, but sending a newly 19-year-old to go and perform a shady business deal in the back alley of the most dangerous of the seven kingdoms? Well, maybe second-most-dangerous considering how fucked up Corona seemed. After all, everyone had heard of the 14-year-old that went batshit insane and kidnapped the queen along with trying to kill the princess. Must’ve been one hell of a 14-year-old to take out most, if not all, of the Royal Guards like the rumour said. Even after that, the Saporians took over while the princess went on a road trip and then the handmaiden stole the legendary moonstone! Like, how dysfunctional does a kingdom have to be for all this to happen in less than 3 years? It was almost unbelievable if Hugo hadn’t been on duty and seen the black rocks growing in the forest, allegedly a product of the moonstone. However, now was no time to think about this. 

He had work to do.

As he continued, a rotting oak door resided to his left. A matching sign perched above it, the metal holding it up rusted and almost covered by a layer of snow. Hugo pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes squinting to make out the lettering before comparing it to the parchment in his hand. Yep, this was definitely the place, though he really did struggle to see it through the large crack on his glasses’ lens. He took a deep breath, his hand hovering over the concealed pocket of his jacket to be sure the dagger Donella gave him was still there. Thankfully it was, and so with one additional deep breath, he pushed open the door.

Immediately, knives were drawn on him.

Raising his hands with a smug grin, he let out a little chuckle. “Woah, woah gentlemen. Calm down. No need to get aggressive.” Hugo commented as he pushed his glasses up his nose and headed to sit down. “Donella sent me for business. Pleasure to meet ya. The name’s Hugo, don’t wear it out.” 

The room they were in was nothing less that disgusting, the scent of decay and rot surrounding him as he tried not to throw up. Freezing winds barged their way into the room, only the candles trapped in lanterns still flickering and providing some semblance of warmth. The chair he was perched on moaned under his weight, Hugo being sure it would break and drop him onto the damp floor. He sighed softly and leant back. He just wanted to go back to the hideout and not be here.

“Yeah well, we said we wanted her to come here in person, not one of her lil’ servants.” The other man chuckled and leant back against one of the gross, wooden walls, Hugo grimacing at the sight. “So thanks but no, we want ya boss, pretty boy.” 

Looking the man up and down, Hugo examined the situation. He couldn’t take him - four more men now visible in the background and CLEARLY more muscular than him. All he wanted was a quick job. A quick, simple job where he could relax afterwards and just go to sleep. Was it really too much to ask?

“No can do, boss man. She’s got shit to do and so do I later so..we’re kinda on a time crunch.” Hugo declared, looping one leg over his other and settling his hands on the table. He linked his fingers together and pressed them to his lips gently with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Now, shall we get to it?”

“We made our instructions clear and she didn’t show, so no. Run off to your owner, you fuckin’ mutt.” The man sneered, his goons chuckling at the insult directed to the blonde. Hugo, however, rolled his eyes and resumed his original position with his arms folded and leaning back in the chair. Wow, they really were shit, weren’t they?

“Ha ha very funny.” His eyes rolled, not a stranger to the bitter insult, as he subtly slid his hand into his jacket and wrapped his hand around the handle, trailing a finger slightly down the blade. A soft sigh left his lips as he rose to his feet. “Look, I didn’t want it to come to this, but oh well.” He lamented, swiftly pulling out his knife and throwing it into the man’s shoulder. Lunging forward, he grabbed what he came for off the table he’d been sat at, taking a bullet to the shoulder courtesy of one of the goons, and swiftly turned on his heel, ignoring the intense pain.

And then he started running. 

He sprinted away, yells and thudding footsteps of the men accompanying their boss chasing him in a twisted symphony. His legs ached as he ran, heaving and struggling to get air into his lungs as he gripped his bleeding shoulder, the blood loss creating a dizzy sensation as he struggled to hold the package in his arms.

He knew that the package contained the weapons that they’d used to wound him - Donella had made a batch, only for them to be stolen, and for her to then request Hugo to get them back for her. In all fairness, she’d probably say the injury was worth the contents of the cargo, it being worth ‘more than his life’ and he should be ‘grateful’ to still live there with her, Cyrus and the gang. That, however, didn’t change the fact he was dripping blood onto the floor, blending in with the snow that decorated the floor and staining it red. 

Eventually, he lost the trail of the goons and entered Donella’s base. A sigh left his lips as he leant back against the door, Cyrus walking over and removing the package before sitting him down. “Take it off.” He gestured to his jacket and scarf, Hugo obliging and slipping down the side of his shirt to reveal the bullet wound to the larger man. “Luckily it’s gone through.” Cyrus muttered, picking up the medical kit and beginning to stop the bleeding and stitch up the wound marking his shoulder.

“I got the package for ya.” Hugo muttered, groaning in pain and, with his free hand, letting his hair out of the ponytail it was in. “Took a lotta work. Had to shake the trail of at least four of these big guys. Almost as big as you, yknow?” he chuckled, letting out a long groan as Cyrus put a stitch in a particular place. 

“Sorry.” Cyrus grunted, finishing up before the room went silent. There, in the doorway, stood the woman herself, a frown playing on her lips as she strode over and picked up the package. Glancing at Hugo, she gave an approving nod to him.

“Nice job out there, kid.” She muttered, her hand resting on his injured shoulder before removing it at the sound of his discomfort. “I’ve set up a fire in your room for you if you want it.” Hugo sighed and nodded weakly, rising to his feet and grumbling at the pain in his shoulder from the bullet wound earlier. Still, he swallowed his pain and travelled down the hall. “Oh. And this.” She began, pushing an emerald case into his hands. “You have a job soon in Koto, so begin heading there tomorrow. Thought this would help you.” Donella walked off down the hall, the door to her study shutting and the sound echoing throughout the small base. 

As soon as he got to his room, Hugo sat beside the fire and let Olivia out of her confines in his pocket. Slowly, he opened the box and smiled softly at the sight of new glasses, their lenses shining under the light of the fire. They were the perfect make and size - Donella remembering the exact frames that he liked. He removed the old pair, placing the new ones on his nose and pushing them up to the bridge with a smile before leaning back with a smile despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder. 

Maybe his birthday wasn’t so bad.

[lovelahela]

❛ it lives in the woods ❜ ─ prologue

⇢ masterlist ; check masterlist for fancast!

⇢ pairing: noah marshall x f!mc (marisol reyes)

⇢ genre: horror

⇢ chapter: zero (prologue)

⇢ words: 2687

⇢ description: something old and powerful lives in the woods surrounding the small town of westchester... something that knows their names. tensions flare, old wounds are reopened, and lives hang in the balance of one, very important question: are you scared?

⇢ notes + warning: this story will include disturbing scenes, potentially dark/triggering subjects (including but not limited to underage substance/alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety) and strong language. reader discretion is advised.

        Tonight, the moon is playing peek-a-boo, weaving in and out of ribbons of black clouds scudding across the sky. Accompanying the flickering radiance of lampposts scattered across the small town of Westchester, the light of the moon stretched across the vast cluster of trees that surrounded it and to a cosy, modern house far away from said lampposts that stood out significantly next to the worn-out, withering shack that stood meters away from it. The town was characteristically quiet, its folk invested in whatever dream of winning the lottery and marrying the most good-looking Hollywood actor they were having. It was almost peaceful.

        The functioning word here being almost.

        Inside that modern little house lay a young teenage girl, fast asleep in the comfort of her mattress and scented candles. Marisol Reyes tried very hard to be normal, thank you very much. She ran two clubs, maintained outstanding grades, and managed Westchester High's successful swimming team as an efficient captain. Some might even say she was one of the "popular kids," but she was no where near that (proven by the constant degradation courtesy of Britney and her posse), and preferred to keep it that way. All Marisol wanted was to blend, to be away from the spotlight - she had enough of it after being drowned in all the wrong kinds of attention when one of her best friends perished a decade ago. Being pointed at by judgemental kids and gossiping parents took a toll on her, and she swore to go out of her way to erase the devastating, untimely death of Jane Marshall from her life - she would never be the "best friend of that girl who died" ever again.

        Although Marisol strongly refused her mother Soledad's advice to see a child psychologist and cope with the horrible trauma that cost her her childhood, she insisted that she was able to, get over it. She pushed aside the recurrent nightmares and the obsession with self-defense and martial arts classes, plastered on a smile, and said she was fine - every single time, all through the ten years of looking over shoulder and denying just how damaged she really was.

        The sound of violent vibrations against a wooden surface startled Marisol Reyes out of her uncharacteristically peaceful slumber. She jumped out of her bed and grabbed the kitchen knife that always lied stoically on her bedside table like a war veteran, hair frazzled and muscles tense. The focus of her almond-shaped eyes darted around the room frantically, fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Once she could not make out an outline of an intruder in the darkness that enveloped the area, she realized the vibrations were coming from her phone, buzzing enthusiastically with text notifications. She groaned at her overreaction to such a harmless event while rubbing the sleep from her eyes and picked up the small electronic device in her tense hands.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:12 AM

UNKNOWN NUMBER

marisol, you there?

it's dan.

i messed up. i'm sorry, i'm so sorry

Mark as spam?

Block number?

        "Oh my God..." whispered Marisol, rereading that one text over and over again to make sure she didn't imagine it.

        it's dan.

        Those two words stole the breath and heat from her very skin. Suddenly her defenses are like paper, paper being soaked by rapidly falling rain drops. Dan Pierce. They hadn't spoken since the tragic incident a decade prior - after the funeral, the eight children went their separate ways, determined carry the truth behind that catastrophe with them to the grave no matter how deep they buried it inside of them. She debated replying - she hadn't so much as greeted him in so many years, and suddenly he bombards her phone with frantic messages in the middle of the night? Something seemed off. Marisol could practically feel danger creeping up slowly but surely behind her.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:15 AM

DAN PIERCE

marisol?

MARISOL

dan, hey.

it's been a while, u okay? what's up?

DAN PIERCE

i went into the woods.

i had to be sure, i had to prove to myself that he wasn't real.

that it was all in our heads.

but he is, mari. he's real. it was all real.

read 3:16 AM

        Marisol's previously tense hands began shivering vigorously along with the rest of her limbs, all of them weakening by the second. She closed her eyes and drew in long, deep breaths, attempting to calm down and muster up whatever courage she had left. She wasn't sure if the texts she responded with were an attempt to convince Dan, or herself.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:17 AM

MARISOL

hey man, u sure ure not drunk?

DAN PIERCE

he was whispering, just like when we were kids.

MARISOL

dan, please stop.

we made all that stuff up, we were kids.

mr red was just a dumb game that spun out of control.

we made it all up.

DAN PIERCE

 he does. he's with me right now.

MARISOL

for fuck's sake dan

if ure in the woods get out NOW

it's not safe in the dark

DAN PIERCE

i can hear him in the trees.

i can hear him whispering...

read 3:18 AM

        Marisol hissed a long string of curse words, fumbling around in the dark for her jacket. It didn't matter that they lost touch with each other, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him - of losing someone else in the disbanded group that she once would have said she trusted with her life. Maybe, if you dug deep enough through the traumatic, emotional baggage she lugged around every waking moment, she still would.

        Just as she snatched the keys to her mother's car (which she was only allowed to use in the case of an emergency, much to her dismay), someone rapped the window harshly, startling a shriek out of her. Her phone slipped out of her hands and landed on the wooden floorboard with an upsetting thud, just barely illuminating the room with a disturbing glow.

        With the manner of a paranoid animal about to get preyed on viciously, Marisol snuck a peek at the window. Her blood ran cold when she made out the shape of what she was hoping was a human. Wasting no time, she jumped towards her lamp and turned it on. A yellow light filled just enough of the vicinity - enough to see that the man waiting outside her window was none other than Dan. She heaved out a relieved sigh and opened the window  (reluctantly so), ushering him inside outside of the chilly embrace of the crisp night.

        He climbed into his former friend's bedroom, hoodie dirtied by mud and hints of dead leaves. His long hair was unkempt, his eyes were accompanied by worrying and prominent bruises under them, and what used to be his beautifully tanned skin was then pale and sickly as though he was near death itself. Dan sat hunched over on the floor like a frail puppet being held up by a single fraying string. It was horribly peculiar to see him like this - he always held himself with confidence, tall and muscular frame towering over even those taller than him. To see him lying on her floor, so vulnerable and beaten down, it was heartbreaking to say the least.

        "God, Dan, what happened to you?" asked Marisol, eyes softened with concern as she scanned his body for the injuries littered on his skin and mud staining his clothes. He looked up at her, expression shallow, striking a faint but growing fear inside of her. "How... how did you even get here? We're on the second floor."

        "I climbed." His answer was curt and simple, no emotion to his voice at all. Nothing in his eyes or the tone of his voice supported the signs of terrifying struggle that blemished him. Marisol gulped.

        "Oooookay, Spider-Man!" Nervous laughter cut through the uncomfortable silence choking them. She frowned and took small, careful steps forward as to not startle him. She crouched down to look him in the eyes as calmly as she should, slowly pulling down the zipper of his hoodie.

        "Listen, bud, why don't you take a shower? I'll wash your clothes, give you some of my dad's, and you can tell me happened, yeah?" Her voice was low and soft, as though she was consoling a frightened child. Peeling the hoodie off his slouched shoulders, she avoided his eyes, which were - very creepily - trained on her paling face. She sighed, visibly relieved when he decided to focus on the string of Polaroid pictures and what looked like dozens of framed award certificates hung up on her wall, suddenly completely neglecting her physical existence next to his enfeebled body.

        "I'm fine." His words resembled that of an accused, soulless criminal awaiting his punishment in court, perfectly trained to deny his guilt to his grave no matter what the situation was — it seemed to rehearsed. Then, abruptly, his head snapped in her direction and he grabbed her forearms tightly, staring at her with wide, crazed eyes. She could have sworn she felt all of her internal organs cease functioning for a split second and yelped pathetically. "Come on! We need to get the others!"

        Her breath hitched in her throat. She searched and searched her brain for the proper response, hyper-aware of the growing madness that distorted his handsome face. When she spoke, the pitch of her voice was a bit too high for her liking. "What — What others?"

        Dan's hold on her tightened noticeably, causing her to flinch and whimper involuntarily. A curt, mad laugh that sounded like one the Joker himself would utter left his lips. "Our friends, of course! Noah, Lily, Ava, Lucas, Andy, Stacy — the whole gang!" Another laugh that deepened the pit in her stomach, a laugh that would haunt her for days.

        Suddenly, Marisol regretted turning away psychological help. The rate of her breathing quickened anxiously as she felt a gate in her mind burst open, letting unwanted memories flood it mercilessly at the mention of their names. She could not see Dan anymore, only flashing images of ruins, of an eerie forest, and of nine children irresponsibly skipping through the trees, on their way to revisit the entity that would then change their lives forever. Her eyes were coated with a glossy sheen of tears that were more than ready to flow down her cheeks against her weakening will. When she finally mustered the courage to speak again, she whispered: "I've barely spoken to them for years, Dan. Not since Jane — "

        Before she could register what was happening, Dan stood up and pulled her with him with an unimaginable force that was sure to leave bruises. Their faces were uncomfortably close, so close she could smell the scent of blood and dirt that replaced his usual cologne. He stared at her like an enraged panther, tiny bubbles of froth forming at the corners of his mouth and face contorted with a venomous outburst. Fear was struck inside her that she felt in her very core — she almost thought he would kill her right then and there. "They have to come. Everyone has to be there. That's the rule."

        She could feel the sweat trickle down her neck, the throbbing of her tear-filled eyes, the ringing screaming of a little girl in her ears, and the thumping of her horror-stricken heart against her chest. "Rule?"

        The world stilled around them. Suddenly, she could not hear a single thing, not even her own breathing — only the awfully familiar words that the boy hissed: "Everyone plays together."

        Marisol could not have been more thankful for the sound of her phone buzzing yet again against the floorboards. She took that as an excuse to gingerly wiggle out of his loosened grip and, with shaking legs, approached her cell and picked it up. A crack tarnished the previously pristine screen, but she decided to worry about that later when it was a more appropriate time to fret over a slightly broken phone. 

        But what she saw was her breaking point. Her free hand reached up to cover her mouth and stifle a sob threatening to spill out of her quivering lips and before she could control it a steady flow of salty tears coated her cheeks.

TEXT MESSAGE

3:26 AM

DAN PIERCE

are you still there?

i think i'm lost

marisol? my battery's almost dead, please help me!!

read 3:26 AM

        The shock ricocheted up her skeleton; an enormous engulfing terror made her feel so, so sick in her mind and body. She's seen darkness before, the kind that makes an empty street look like an old-fashioned photograph, but this was different — this was the kin of darkness that robbed her of her common sense and replaced it with a paralyzing fear. By her genes, she is a predator with the intelligence and perceptive eyes to hunt, but in that moment, she felt like a helpless prey. Marisol slowly rose from the illuminating screen of her phone, her wide, suspicious eyes meeting his. 

        "Dan?" She sniffled weakly.

        Although his eyes were cold an empty, right underneath them a grin stretched his lips impossibly from one ear to the other, radiating clear indications of raging madness.

        "Marisol."

        She lunged for the knife on her bedside table yet again, shrieking as he took large and quick steps towards her violently shaking form. She searched desperately for an escape route that wasn't blocked by the towering body of the intruder in front of her but to no avail. He grabbed her wrist with a bone-crushing hold, squeezing yet another helpless screech out of her. Her voice broke when she cried out: "Dan, please! Don't make me do this!"

        And he did nothing but widen the frightening smile that would permanently etch itself into her retinas, haunting her every time she closed her eyes.

        So Marisol did the only logical thing her frantic brain could come up with — with a heart-wrenching scream, pained by having to inflict pain on a friend who was once very dear to her, she drove the blade of the knife into his abdomen. Much to her increasing horror, he did not so much as flinch at the pain, only tightened the hold around her throbbing wrist. He merely growled like a feral animal, burning holes into her with his enraged gaze. "Wrong move."

        Dan tackled her effortlessly to the floor, straddling her hips and forcing her into a cage that she would never break out of in her wildest dreams. He smashed her head against the rough surface underneath her, darkening her fading vision. "We all have to go back, remember?"

        "LEAVE ME ALONE! GET — OFF — ME!" She thrashed in his hold, no longer attempting to swallow the sobs. Finally, after agonizing attempts to kick and thrash and flail, she was able to free one of her hands and in result scraped her previously perfectly manicured fingernails down the skin of his face.

         A cry of disgust and disbelief bounced off the walls of the room when it peeled right off, revealing putrid flesh under it. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, leaving her to stare into milky whiteness while the stink of stale dirt burned the  insides of her nostrils. His long, skinny fingers curled around her neck, pressing, closing with a lack of mercy or remorse, feeling like tendrils wound around her oxygen supply. Despite her lungs blazing with agony, Marisol continued to fight fruitlessly until her energy started to dissipate like water going down a drain. Her hands fell to her side and her body grew limp, using her last breath to scream for help that, somewhere in the back of her min, she knew would never come. The last thing she saw before she embraced the coming blackness of unconsciousness was the ghastly monster that rendered her powerless and savagely tore open her old wounds.

[miraclejune]

HERO’S SOUP: Chapter 12

Artist

“Give me my helmet, Seungmin.” the sound of the motorcycle engine slowly deteriorates under the wind. Seungmin was being stubborn again and Chan was not in the mood for any of it. "If I do, will you not follow them like some sort of serial killer?"

Chan clicked his tongue in annoyance. He wasn't having any of this. "Stop wasting my time and give me my damn helmet." his fangs bared as he glared at the witch. Raw anger shot through Chan's veins. Seungmin looked calm but on the inside, he was definitely terrified by the being in front of him. "You know how I fucking hate when someone messes with you guys." he growled breathlessly. Seungmin swallows the lump on his throat. Can’t this person ever think of himself first? Geez.

"As dumb and chaotic as our friends can get, believe me, we know." Seungmin gave his most sincere look, he was being honest. 

With a sigh of defeat, Chan turned the key and pulled it out of the keyhole of his bike. "Fine."

“You really need to control your anger sometimes.”

Seungmin smiled from ear to ear making Chan all soft and fluffy inside his dead body. He can’t stay mad at any of the boys. "Let's go home. Jeongin's coming over." Seungmin almost snorted as he saw Chan's cheeks dimpled. Caught off guard, the vampire cleared his throat and proceeded back in the shop. Seungmin tailed him. "Alright, cool." he stopped and turned to his heel. As soon as he made eye contact with Seungmin, who wore a smug look on his face, Chan turned away and tried to find a distraction on the counter. "I'll clean up here, um you go ahead."

"Chan, there's literally nothing there." it was late before he realized it. The counter was as clean and smooth as a baby's bottom. He hadn't meant to do it, he could tell by the look of mild shock on his face and the way his arms floundered. Again, if he was capable of blushing he would be a very vivid shade of red by now.

His ears perked up as he heard a chuckle. That slowly turns into a loud cackle. Seungmin was laughing at him. He faced him, but the witch was already on the floor. He was literally rolling on the floor fucking laughing like a lunatic. In normal circumstances, he would've whooped his sorry ass or yell at him but instead, Chan smiled.

Seungmin was not really a 'warm' person. When they first met, Chan didn’t like the deadpan look on the witch’s face. But as soon as Seungmin entered the room, he started bowing at everyone who greeted him, he's always full of respect. Chan always thought that a person who lowers his head for others will one day reach the highest peak of their life. And that’s when he knew he could trust his life with the witch.

However, there is one bad thing about him. Seungmin was always too serious. Too focused on his career or his goals. The only time he had some good fun was when he visits the vampire and annoys the living hell out of him.

Chan wished he would be more chill. That the witch should do something he likes. Not bury himself under a mountain of thick spell books in his apartment. His wish sorta came true. And he was thankful for it, he may not express it as well as the others but he cherishes Seungmin the most.

“Come on, you crazy fucker. Let’s get going.”

-

“I still can’t understand why we can’t use your magic transportation thingy.”

“Don’t you have a spell like that?”

“I do but it requires a shit ton of energy.”

“So, my ‘magic transportation thingy’ doesn’t?”

“Chan, you’re a vampire. You’re an immortal idiot that can only be killed with a wooden stake.”

“That doesn’t make me have an infinite amount of energy, and just so you know, it’s a wooden stake through your heart. Name one person who doesn’t die from that, I’m gonna suck my own dick.”

“That’s gay.”

“I’m only gay for myself.”

“Narcissistic nincompoop.”

“Right back at ya.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes and went past Chan who opened the door. He had only taken a few steps away from the entrance when Chan grabbed him by his wrist, alarming him. “There’s something wrong.” An eerie feeling creeped on Seungmin’s spine as he looked back at the vampire. “Oh wait, nevermind.” Chan shrugged and went on his merry way to the living room. Although puzzled by the vampire’s actions he followed suit. 

Now that he was well aware of his surroundings, it was quite rowdier than usual. Seungmin snickered, ‘He can tell what’s wrong with just a little change on what he’s used to, what a creep.’ 

“I heard that.” he looked up and saw Chan eyeing him from his shoulder. Seungmin giggled. He walked to the living room, sat beside Felix and threw his arms around him. The fox involuntarily leans it to the touch. Chan sighed, putting his hands on his waist. Seungmin being all chummy with the others baffled him at first.

The witch wasn’t the type of person who liked skinship, he lacked friends for that aspect too. But, oddly enough, Seungmin grew more and more comfortable with all the touching. It scared the bejesus out of Chan when Seungmin hugged him. 

He looks up and smiles at the sight before plopping down the beanie bag.

“So, what’s chaos about?” Seungmin asks. Changbin appears from the kitchen, a cooler on hand. “We’re having a barbeque.” Jisung pops up from behind him, cheeks filled with what seems to be food. He goes to the living room while Changbin saunters to the backyard.

“Weyf wahs dah oksacion.”

“Seungmin, chew or talk. Just pick one.” He rolls his eyes at Hyunjin and takes another bite off the corndog offered by Jisung. “Jisung looks like a squirrel when he eats.” 

“Felix, I don’t think that’s what Seungmin said.”

“Aren’t you looking at him? Jisung is a squirrel.”

Minho and Felix bickered at a distance. “I said, what’s the occasion?” he vanishes into thin air after repeating his question, baffling the people around him. Chan shakes his head “You guys either need to get used to Seungmin vanishing mid-sentence or Seungmin should just stop doing it.” He stands up and walks to the backyard, abruptly followed by Minho who was running away from Jisung because he stole the wolf’s corndog.

Chan's statement was agreeable but that didn’t answer their question.

“He went to get Jeongin!” Chan shouted informing the others. “Ah.” 

After a short while, Seungmin reappears in the kitchen, Jeongin emerges from behind him. “Jeongin!” Before Hyunjin can even think of throwing himself at the boy, Woojin pulls him by his shirt. “Let’s go!” The rest of them laughed as the alpha literally dragged the poor wolf towards the backyard. 

“Why is there a tent?”

The said tent shifted and Chan appeared from the entrance, his clothes were disheveled and his hair was a mess. Jeongin gasped, while the rest of the boys laughed. “Can someone please fucking help me-” 2 sets of hands attached themselves to Chan's upper body. “No, oh god please no.” 

“Chantopher, get back in here~ we’re not done yet!”

“Yes, we have a lot of cuddling to do! You're ice cold! You need more cuddling!”

“CUDDLE SOMEONE ELSE AND I'M A FUCKING VAMPIRE I'M SUPPOSED TO BE COLD FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!”

Chan vanished again. Seungmin laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. Hyunjin can’t even breathe. 

“But, Chan is weirdly warm.” Jeongin thought.

The rest of them agree. “Well, he can change the temperature of his body. He usually does that when around normal humans, or when some of us feel chilly. Oh, and when he just drank fresh blood.” Jeongin looks at Woojin cutting up the meat on the grill. The alpha’s face was calm and filled with content. It warmed him up. 

While Jisung, Chan and Changbin are ‘busy’ inside the tent, the rest of them settle down. Woojin was in charge of the cooking. No way in hell would they let the younger ones cook. The last time they did, Changbin almost set the living room on fire. Heaven knows how the fire ended up there instead.

Jeongin was denied any help and decided to sit down on the grass.

“Wait.”

He stumbled on his butt, pouting up to Minho who offered him a hand. “What? I can’t sit on the ground too?” Minho chuckled and swiftly pulled him up. He unfolds the blanket from his other hand. “Oh.” The boy eventually helped him by flattening the blanket on the grass. Right after he softened the edges, he was tackled. “Changbin!” 

He vaguely saw a very scruffy Chan pop out of the tent before Changbin and Jisung enveloped him.

“It’s your turn!” Jeongin whined from underneath, he was not struggling or whatsoever. The guys weren’t putting on a lot of weight on him. What scared him was the figures looming above them.

“Oh god, please no pilling!”

-

“It’s weird.”

Felix puts a pile of meat on Jeongin’s plate looking at the boy in confusion, “What’s weird?” the fox asked. 

Jeongin pauses and looks around. “How human-like you guys act?”

Felix smiled. “Well, we weren’t like this at first.” Jeongin stares at the fox’s freckled face, waiting for him to continue. Felix sighs and sits down beside him, crossing his legs, their knees touching.

“At first, we didn’t know how to act. Especially Minho, who wasn’t used to close contact with humans that much.” his eyes shift to Chan's position. “After we met Chan, he taught us how humans live every day. Even to the smallest detail.” Felix looks down and chuckles. “Minho and I were really sloppy in the first few months. There were multiple occasions where we almost got caught. Chan was always there to pull our ears out of trouble. Oh, and humans can't really process all the magical stuff so that helps too.” the fox let out a deep chuckle. 

“Still, no one told me what the occasion was?” Seungmin was right. No one answered his question. “Because you disappeared, you dumbass.” the witch shrugged and eyed them for the answer.

Woojin puts down the tongs with a soft clang. “He asked what the occasion is, Changbin.” all eyes settled onto the wolf, while Changbin’s wary eyes found his alpha’s. The corners of the alpha’s lips were lifted into a soft smile. Changbin scratched his head.

“Well, I kinda found a place for my tattoo shop.”

A lot of cheers and shocked reactions emerged from the crowd. “When are you gonna tell us about this geez!” Ha can’t wrap his head around it. Changbin let out an awkward laugh. “Also, the renovations are done. I just need to install the equipment so I need your help.”

“WHAT?”

“Dude, are you serious?”

“It’s been THAT long!!!!”

“I’m actually offended right now.”

Changbin clings to Jeongin, “B-but! I did ask you guys for your help!”

“Unbelievable.”

“Aren’t we friends at all?”

Changbin cowered onto Jeongin’s arms, the boy chuckled and cooed at the bullied wolf.

“My gosh, Changbin.” even Woojin was in it.

“I’M SORRY OKAY!!!!!”

[oldloveatz]

dance with me | san

— TYPE: prince!au, somewhat requested, princess!reader, fluff

— WORD COUNT: 2.8k

— SYNOPSIS: the annual grand ball takes place in your father’s palace, and on that night you meet a particular someone you become very interested in.

— MESSAGE: hi, i see that you’re getting so many requests so idk if you’re still accepting them but if yes, then i would like to request anything san related. it’s completely up to you to choose the plot, i just need more san scenarios in my life 😩 also, you’re such an amazing writer and my fav blog on tumblr so yeah, ty for taking your time to write for us!

— AUTHOR’S MESSAGE: so thank you for requesting a san scenario and thank you so much for reading all of my stuff im devastated ): but since you didn’t request anything specific, i took one idea from a few ideas i came up with and wrote it for san! please enjoy this omg im so sorry if it’s bad

you dreaded the grand ball your father throws annually. you had to get in a very tight corset (tight enough to constrict your lungs) and dance with strangers in some painful heels. on top of that, you had to wear a very tiring dress which you know your parents had picked for you to wear. it wasn’t that you hated the grand ball, you liked them, in fact. they were a bit socially tiring, however. you were constantly pulled left and right by your mother and father to introduce you to some family that you care less about. they weren’t even the same family you meet each year!

“a-are you sure you don’t want to wear your hair up for the ball?” your helper, elena, asked. she was verifying the clothes, shoes, makeup and accessories, hairstyle and even perfume that you’d be wearing for the ball. she offered to wear your hair up, but you insisted to not even touch your hair. “oh, your father-“

“i don’t care!” you exclaimed, which frightened her a little. “i’m sorry. but just sprinkle glitter in it, it’s fine.”

“i understand your frustrations,” elena said, pulling your velvet stool to sit down. and she was right, you were frustrated. frustrated that you had to wear whatever she was ordered to dress you in. “but, listen to me, dear. the ball will be a fun experience for you to meet other people.”

“oh, i meet so many people,” you cut in. “way too many people for my liking.”

all elena could do was sigh, thinking of another response to your remark. “alright, i’m not going to touch your hair. but you will wear your cor-“

“please, lose the corset,” you insisted. “if i breathe in that fucking-“

“language,” she warned. no wonder they soft-banned you from going outside. you were learning foul words from the people outside the castle you lived in, which was also alright because you liked them.

“well, if i breathe in a corset, either it will break or my ribs will,” you explained, hopefully it was enough to convince her to not put you in a tightly tied corset. god, you didn’t want to spend 45 minutes just putting on a corset. “and puncture my lungs, which you all do not want to happen.”

“alright, fine,” elena said, getting up from the raspberry-colored velvet stool to cross off the hairstyle and the corset from her list. “anything else you want to lose?”

“uh, yes,” you started, getting up from your king sized bed and beginning to pace across your shiny, marble floor. the reflection perfectly mimicked the ceiling, a clean tiled dark ceiling with gold intricates. the walls were white and the familiar intricates like the ceiling. you loved your room, in fact you spend a lot of time in your room. “i’d like to lose the heels.”

“but, darling they’re designer heels,” elena said, completely unfazed with the things you wished to not wear.

“so? my feet are murdered by the end of the day if i wore those heels,” you reasoned. the sound of scratches on her clipboard definitely fueled your victory, a smile playing on your lips. “and i think that’s it. yeah, that’s it.”

“rather plain, but simple,” she commented, clipboard in hand before heading for the door to leave. “lunch is ready, by the way.”

“oh, sweet.”

your darling parents discussed the ball for tonight, giggling to each other as if it was the first ball they had ever organized. your parents were the king and queen of the land, holding power but they take advantage of the said power by being kind to those who lived outside the castle. they were loved by many, which is why it was perfectly fine for you to step outside and spend the day out for hours. and you have done it.

after lunch, you bid your goodbye to go hang out with your friends (or non-royal as those who worked for your family would say). the village was a sight to behold, and you adored seeing paintings of talented artists that live within the village. you bought about fifty paintings, maybe more.

“y/n! i thought you said you weren’t coming by today?” your friend, jaehyun, asked, getting up from his spot and giving you a side hug.

you trusted jaehyun, he was the boy who helped you become comfortable with the world outside the walls of your castle. he introduced you to his friends, befriending the girls and the boys easily and connecting with them in an instant. jaehyun whistled at his friends, stealing their attention from the marbles they were playing with and running up to you and him.

“i wasn’t, but they let me go out today,” you told him with a smile. “i came to give you an invitation actually! i stole one from my parents, and you are invited to the ball tonight.”

you earned groans from the invitation, as for sure the others wanted to go too. you placed a finger on your lips, hoping to shush them and they did.

the enveloped was gorgeous. it was parchment-colored, beige and blotched. the sound that it makes when it gets touched was the most satisfying thing ever, and hearing jaehyun fumble with a fancy royal-like envelope was making you nervous. you didn’t want him to drop the letter. it was sealed by a custom-made wax and stamp for your family, and the wax was sparkling under the bright sunlight as it was mixed with gold particles. you did the honors of writing his name at the front, though calligraphy was difficult to do so you printed his name in your normal handwriting.

jaehyun lifted the flap carefully, hoping he wouldn’t ruin the wax at all and whispered a ‘yes!’ when he didn’t tear it apart. you snickered at his action, covering your mouth and the others mirrored your action. “what does the letter say?”

“it just says i’m invited to the castle,” jaehyun said, stuffing the letter back into the envelope in a delicate manner. he then slipped the letter into his pants’ pockets, patting it from the outside to make sure it wasn’t folded in any way. “i’ll see if i can go. i.. i don’t have anything nice to wear.”

“it’ll be lovely if you can,” you told him with a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that it was okay if he couldn’t attend. “i won’t hate you if you couldn’t. plus i have all the time to come out here and hang out with you guys! a ball means nothing.”

you went back a couple of hours later to get ready for the ball, silently cursing in your head each step on the track on your way back. the guards opened the tall, dark oak doors for you and you stepped in, the sound of dry track silenced as soon as your shoes met the smooth, marble floor. the environment of the castle was much different than the village. the castle was huge, but echo-y and quiet - obnoxiously quiet. on the other hand, the village was small, but a lot of children run around and kiosks that contained things to catch attention from anyone. you liked both on some days.

“it is about time you returned from your trip,” elena said, standing at the bottom of the grand staircase with her iconic clipboard wrapped in her arm. she had been waiting for you to get home, rather patiently but as soon as she watched you enter through the tall doors, all of her contained patience went down the drain. “shall we get started then, dear?”

“do we have food? i’m quite famished,” you told her, hoping to get through with this excuse and stall. but, elena saw through your excuse and shook your head. you weren’t too hungry anyway, you hoped for the dress to be loose enough for you to eat later on. you and elena headed up the grand staircase, hand resting on the gold-engraved wooden railing for support as you made your way up in your room.

elena had sent you to the bathroom to take a long, refreshing bubble bath. so, you sat in the bathtub filled with bubbles that spilled over the tub. your eyes stared blankly at the white-tiled wall, ignoring the anxiety building up in your chest but also the excitement slowly mixing with the feeling. of course, you were excited. maybe there will be a cute boy you’d want to dance with, or other people you’d eventually want to meet. it wasn’t like you had a choice though, your parents will pull you left and right meeting families you didn’t even know existed.

your thoughts were disrupted by elena pounding her fist on the door, “hurry up, darling! we still have to get you in our dress!”

you stepped out of the tub, grabbing the beige towel sitting on a golden rack next to the tub and began patting it throughout your body and rubbing it around your hair to soak up any water in your mop of hair. you wrapped your body in your soft plush robe, tiptoeing back into your room where everything was set up around your vanity.

elyssio was standing by your vanity with a hairbrush with a smile on his face, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you wanted to do something simple for the night. you hoped elena told him, maybe that’s what the hairbrush is for. “hey, elyssio! it’s nice to see you again.”

“very nice to see you too, princess!” elyssio said, placing the big hairbrush down on the surface of the vanity that had been littered with various boxes filled with shiny and elegant jewelry. you looked over at the headless mannequin standing still a few feet away from the vanity, and you fell in love with your dress. it was everything you had dreamed of wearing. “your parents did a very good job picking your dress for the night.”

“they took note of how you reacted to each dress they picked for every ball occasion,” elena said, sitting on the velvet stool located at the foot of your grand bed. you smiled, taking the skirt-part of the dress in your hand, and god you were thankful the dress was just right for you. “so, do you want to get the hair and makeup out of the way or get in the dress first?”

the process of the get-up ran faster than you thought, as you were in the empty hallways wandering with your dress on complete with the slightly elevated flats, waiting for the ball to start. it was 7:15 in the night, and guests were expected to pile in the grandeur room for the ball. you wanted to kill time, so you went into the kitchen to see what kinds of hors d’oeuvre and appetizers they had for the guests.

“kingston, what are you cooking for tonight?”

“hey! you’re not supposed to be here!” kingston pushed you out of the kitchen. “we don’t want you smelling like the food. you’ll see them when it’s out.”

you wandered the walls again, deciding to head to the library to kill time by reading the big books you had been putting off to the side. you’ve read the the smaller ones, at least. you grabbed the nearest big binded book in sight and sat yourself down on the velvet chair, opening up the hard cover and reading the very first page. you thought that you’d just fall asleep, assuming it’d be a boring book mostly about the geography of the earth, but that really wasn’t the case.

you had been in the castle’s library burning through time by reading the book you had grabbed, clearly and deeply into the topic of geography. what was it about the book that made the concept of geography so interesting? you were so into the book that you hadn’t realize the ball started. you wouldn’t have known if elena hadn’t gone in the library to tell you.

the room was filled with many people, a few minutes in when it started. more and more citizens and visitors made their way through the door, hearing a lot of ‘woah’s and such. as the usual, you were introduced to royal families. handshakes and smiles and nods had already gotten you worn out, but you carried on.

you pranced to the food section, grabbing a ceramic plate decorated with faint pink flowers and gold specks all around it and began walking down the table to see what the chefs had to offer. you ended up not bothering to ask what food is what, whatever looked good to you - you took it.

“that’s a lot of food you’re getting there,” a voice said from behind you. upon turning around, the owner of the voice must be an angel. he was a bit tall, he had the eyes of the fox and cheekbones made from the greek gods and goddesses. he had think yet so pink lips, if he told you he was an alien you’d believe him. how could someone be so gorgeous? “are you the king and queen’s daughter?”

“u-uhm, yes- yes i am,” you stuttered, moving on along down the table. you glanced at what he was wearing, and gosh was he a gem. the only difference between his suit and the other young boys in the room was he was adorned in gold chains, from head to toe. even his ears were littered with gold. “what’s your name?”

“san,” he replied. you took note of how nice his voice sounded in your ears, you wanted to hear more of him. “i don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“yeah, i don’t think so either,” you responded, reaching the end of the table and standing off to the side. you wondered if you should wait for him and talk more. “i’ll see you around..?”

san turned his head from the bread and butter presented in of him, flashing a small smile in his face that made your heart thump like a rabbit’s foot. he nodded, “you will.”

you sat down to eat, fending off your parents’ random arm grabs to leave you alone because you were eating. you sure got a lot of food, some of it you didn’t even get to finish at all. maybe you were rushing to find him, maybe that was it.

“you’re done eating, princess?” elena asked, dabbing on a handkerchief to her lips to get rid off of the sauce from the spaghetti. you nodded, dusting off any food on your dress and yourself to make sure you don’t make a fool out of yourself when you see san again. you checked your hair too. “you look great, sweetheart. go out there and dance.”

“thank you, i will!” you hopped off the platform which your table had been on top of and began to walk around, simply disguising it as meeting other families and attendees, but you only wanted to look for san.

you found him in a group of girls, gushing and poking his gold-adorned suit as they giggled so loudly. you didn’t think much of it and approached san, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. he swiveled around, a smile creeping on his face as if he knew you’d come to him.

“oh my gosh, it’s the princess..”

“winnie, shut up..!”

“hey,” he greeted with his cute smile. you noticed his dimples, smiling even more at this. “i knew you’d come see me.”

you blushed, knowing that he had known you’d come for him. “uhm.. yeah.. so-”

“does the princess want to dance with the prince?” he asked, the girls behind him muttering to each other and gasping. your eyes peeked at them, before training them on san. his hand reached out to you, offering it for you to take and dance with him.

you took his hand, and in an instant he led you to the dance floor among other pairs dancing with each other. he grabbed your other hand, placing it on his shoulder and attaching his hand onto your waist. your hands still intertwined together when he offered you his hand. you got the idea that he must be a romantic person.

“where have you been all my life?” you whispered, eyes so lost in the void of his eyes. a smirk appeared on his lips, that later transformed into the sweetest smile you have ever seen. you just thought out loud, and felt so embarrassed that you said that to him. but.. san didn’t mind. “i’m sorry i said that.”

“i was just going to ask the same thing,” he said, his eyes were soon beginning to fill the dark void with adoration, like falling in love at first sight. “i’m glad you came to me tonight.”

jaehyun witnessed them dance together to the slow and perfect classical melody, his heart slowly falling off of its place. he left the venue, knowing that she was never interested in him in that way in the first place.

[creator-zee]

132

       I swore under my breath as I spared a moment to glance up at the sky. A dark gray, almost black. The sun was almost gone. The fallen spirits would be coming soon, and the enemy showed no signs of relenting. Our commander had given the order to retreat and find cover before the spirits finished us off, but as my comrades departed I found myself surrounded. I tightened my grip on my swords, ignoring the hot blood I could feel slowly soaking the fabric of my shirt. I had been forced to drop my protective wards, saving what little magic I had, leaving me exposed since I favored agility and light armor over heavy armor that was more protective. A new enemy was charging, I dodged to the right only to duck and narrowly dodge an axe that was on a direct path to behead me. I barely had time to raise a sword to knock aside another sword, before I let out a cry of agony. An arrow had found its way into my arm. The glance I cast towards it cost me my left sword as it was knocked out of my grip.

        I was screwed. Fucked. Dead.

        I parried a blow only to have my legs knocked out from under my. I felt a wrenching in my stomach and then I was alone. Panting slightly, I tried to control my breathing as I looked around. I was in a large tent with bunks and sleeping forms on them. I had teleported? How?

       I sheathed my sword. I knew what had happened. As soon as I had accepted that I was doomed my survival magic and set in and teleported me. It wasn’t uncommon, and it wouldn’t be so strange except that I didn’t have an emotional marker. Did it send me somewhere random? I glanced around the room for clues. My eyes landed on a shield propped up against one of the beds, it had a crescent moon on it. The symbol of the enemy, Queen Luna’s army of moon soldiers. Why was I in an enemy soldiers’ tent? I stared at the symbol and I remembered.

       I paused panting as I glanced up at the next soldier to be cut down. We almost had this village. It was important. My eyes met my enemies. We both froze, instinctively knowing the sad truth. We were soulmates. The drums sounded. We had taken the village. Kill any remaking soldiers.

        “Run.” I breathed out, giving them a chance.

        They only hesitated a second before turning and sprinting away. I turned and moved to other streets.

       My soulmate was a moon soldier. That counted as an emotional link even if we had only seen each other once. And, now I was in the middle of an enemy camp, judging by the bunks and wooden supports of the tent, a relatively permanent camp too. I would never be able to fight my way out, and they would probably kill me on sight. I glanced back over at the shield, and the pile of clothes next to it. But I could sneak out if they thought I was one of them. I just had to be quiet, really quiet. I crept over to the pile of clothes. It was very similar to my current gear, except it was dark blue cloth and silver metal. I grabbed the neatly folded pile of clothes and armor. The metal plates that reinforced the leather clinked softly against each other and I froze. No one stirred. I glanced at the sword and shield. Better safe than sorry, might as well complete the look. 

        I grabbed both, wincing as the metal hit metal. I crept back towards the back of the tent, as far away from the beds as I could manage. I started taking off my head slowly. Swords first. Then armor. I reached my first snag. The arrow still sticking out of my arm. I gave it an experimental tug and suppressed a whimper. It was barbed. I sighed and snapped the shaft off. I would deal with that later. I slid my boots and shirt  and pants off. 

        I slipped on the black pants, and black leather boots. Next came the dark blue shirt. I began strapping on the armor carefully. I flinched at every noise and kept pausing to hear if anyone had woken up. It took me much longer than it should’ve, but finally I was done. Whoever’s armor I stole must’ve been a mage too, since they only wore bracers and a chestplate. They must’ve normally relied on wards to protect themselves. Too bad my magic was only slowly replenishing and I had barely any. I grabbed one of my daggers from the pile of stuff on the floor and cut a slit in the back of the tent. I slipped out and finished fastening my sword around my waist and my shield to my back. I decided to keep the dagger and ducked back under the fall to grab a sheath before storing it in my boot.

       I took a deep breathe. Shoulders back. Chest up. Confidence. Act like I belong and no one will question me. I walked out of the shadows between the tents and towards a fire where soldiers were gathered around. If I walked in one direction I was bound to get out of this maze of tents. I walked past the first fire. No one even looked up.

        I walked past the second one. The third one. The fourth one.

        “Woah. Hey. Are you okay? You’re covered in blood. Did you just get back from the frontlines? Did the spirits catch you?” Someone from a fire asked, turning to face me.

        “Yes, I’m okay. The Sun army in their cowardice retreated, but that meant we were left to deal with the spirits. I’ll be okay once I get some warm food and mead though.” I lied, putting on a false cheerful tone.

        A boisterous man who had probably had one too many mugs of mead patted the log next to him. “Come and join us friend! The more the merrier.”

        I smiled apologetically. “Maybe next time, I have someone waiting for me.”

        “Ooh, a special someone.” They wiggled their eyebrows. “Go on then. Have some fun.”

        I nodded and turned and continued on my way past the fifth fire. I stopped counting after the twentieth. Their camp was huge and I was lost and alone. Not to mention injured. My left arm still screamed where the arrow head remained as well as where a sword had skimmed my arm, cutting a deep gash that would probably need stitches. That is, if I could ever get out of here. I kept walking and eventually I saw something. Treetops, woods, my escape. I quickened my pace, only five more rows of tents.

       Someone grabbed my arm. I look at the cloaked figure, masking my fear with annoyance. “What?”

        “You don’t want to go into those woods at night. The fallen spirits haunt those woods.” They warned, they paused, their grip tightening. “But, you should know that. Everyone here does.”

        “I’m a transfer, new to this branch. I didn’t know, just wanted some peace and quiet.”

         “Right...”

         Crap. They weren’t convinced.

        They began tugging my back into the camp. “Come on, you’re going to pay a visit to the general. If you are who you say you are you having nothing to worry about, if not...”

         Fuck. “Well, if you insist...”

          Go along with it or escape? I was close to the woods. Spirits or no spirits it was better than certain death.

        I yanked my arm back from the stranger. I began sprinting for the woods, slowed slightly by the weight of the shield.

         “Intruder!” The stranger shouted, and the camp erupted into action.

         Half-awake soldiers bustled out of tents, brandishing weapons. They didn’t stand a chance I just ran right past them, but by the time I got to the last row, they were more prepared. I drew my sword, but it was heavier and longer than I was used to. I awkwardly slid the shield off my back, onto my right arm. I tried swinging the sword, but my injured arm refused. The sword fell out of my grip. The soldiers closed in on me. I gave up. I dropped my shield, and dropped to my knees, hands up. 

        Rough hands grabbed my biceps and pulled me to my feet. I stifled a groan of pain as they pressed on the remnant of arrow left in my arm. My arms were shoved roughly behind my back and I felt someone wrap rope around my wrists. 

         A sword prodded against my back, the metal tip clanging against the metal plates. “Move!”

        I walked forwards, towards my death. Not my choice of death. I would’ve preferred something more honorable than executed at the hands of a moon commander.

        They lead me into the depths of the camp. We walked quickly, but the news spread faster. People all around were coming to get a look at the intruder. Many seemed surprised that the enemy had managed to get inside without being caught. Little did they know that we had trained spies who went in and out without retiring caught everyday. I just wasn’t them. Maybe my capture would sate their appetite letting the spies work better. Maybe something good would come of this. We reached a large tent, mich like the bunk one it had wooden supports, but this one was much bigger.

       Two guards stood outside. They nodded at my captors and I was shoved inside. I stumbled slightly and when I looked up, a mix of fear and hate filled me, swirling around. This wasn’t a general, this was her, Queen Luna. Enemy number one. 

       “I thought you were bringing my to a General?” I asked, my tone distant.

        “That was when I thought you were a transfer. An enemy soldier, on the other hand, that goes to the Queen.” Someone responded, I’m guessing the stranger who first stopped me.

         I was shoved to my knees in front of the Queen’s throne as the soldiers on either side of my bowed. I looked up at the Queen, but my eyes quickly drifted to the woman standing to her right. She wore a cloak over plain clothes, similar to what I was wearing minus the armor, but that wasn’t what struck me. It was her eyes. When I met them, I knew she was my soulmate. She obviously knew the same, but neither of us reacted. I’m surprised she didn’t notice anything off. She must’ve left after I did, after all, I did teleport to her. I suppose I had no idea how long I had been wandering through the camp. 

        “So you were trespassing and trying to intrude on our camp. Is that correct?” The Queen asked, looking down at me.

        I glared back, but didn’t speak.

        “How did you get in?” She pushed.

        I didn’t move, barely even breathing.

         “How did you get those clothes?” She pressed.

        I noticed my soulmate shift. She knew. She had to. Did she tell the Queen? Was this a test?

        “Aren’t you going to kill me and get it over with?” I asked, my voice surprising calm.

         She laughed. “Why would I waste such a perfect opportunity? An enemy informant practically handed to me. I’m going to get all the information I can out of you.”

          Torture. Lovely. Not sure if I would prefer her killing me.

          I noticed my soulmate shift again, a barely almost imperceptible shift in the weight of her stance. Interesting... maybe I could use her sympathy, however little it was.

         “Search her and remove any weapons and armor. Then, take her to the woods and tie her securely to a tree.” The Queen ordered. “Kya will put a ward in place that will stop her from leaving a certain area as a precaution, so no guards need to risked.”

         “Yes your majesty.” The soldiers bowed and tugged me out of the room. The woman who was next to the Queen met us outside. She must be Kya. 

        I was led through the camp again, but I wasn’t focusing on which direction, just how I was going to survive in the woods filled with fallen spirits while tied up and weaponless. I knew the Lunaris were cruel, but I had never expected this kind of torture. The fallen spirits were people who died in war and hated the climb for surviving while they had to die. They make it their sole mission to make life a living hell for any who dared walk on the ground where they died. People quickly went insane and often killed each other or themselves. That’s why King Solis always has us retreat before they can attack us at night.

         We reached the edge of the camp and all but one guard drew their weapon, eyes focused on the dark woods. The one guard who didn’t turned to Kya.

        “Court Mage, can you please cast a temporary paralysis spell on the prisoner so I can untie her and search her with ease.” He asked, bowing slightly.

        “Yes.” She nodded, and raised her hand.

        I collapsed to the ground, unable to move. The guard unies my hand and immediately began taking off my armor. My sword and shield were already gone, and he quickly took off the chestplate and bracers. Kya was holding a torch above me to give them light. I felt the guards hands patting me down all over looking for any hidden weapons. If I wasn’t paralyzed I probably would’ve flinched as he pressed the arrowhead into my arm. As it were, I just let out a muted grunt. 

         The guard finished patting me down, retied my hands, and stood up. “She’s good.”

         I felt the spell release, and I struggled to my feet, with the aid of a guard who yanked me upright. Silence except for the clanking of armor, surrounded our small group as they walked into the woods. Once the lights of camp were obscured, the guard shoved me against a tree, and one of their buddies began wrapping rope around the tree and my torso. While they were finishing the knots, Kya was chanting softly and holding up her hands. I saw a glimmer of purple magic ripple out from her fingers. The ward was set. I was well and truly trapped. The guard gave one last tug on the rope before tubing and hurrying out of the woods. None of them spared me a backwards glance. 

        I stood, tense and waiting, my arms uncomfortably pressed between me and the tree. The wounds on my left arm still throbbed and were sure to get infected. I was utterly exhausted, but fear and pain kept me awake as I heard the first whisper. It was inhuman, unintelligible, the muttering did a fallen spirit. A black shadow flickered between the moonlight trees finally flickering into a solid form only a few feet from me. It was black, the absence of light, and vaguely humanoid in form. It reached one arm out, long fingers grazing against my cheek. An icy cold settled over my face and spread to the rest of my body. I gasped as I suddenly felt an axe lodge itself in my chest. I glanced down expecting to see blood pouring from the wound, but there was nothing. Despite the unbearable pain I felt, nothing had hit me. The spirit flickered back out of existence, the pain disappeared too, well my arm still hurt but that was real, not the strange illusion. More flickers. More shadows approached me. Their long reaching fingers touched my exposed skin on my face, neck, and hands. Icy cold spread from each one quickly followed by pain.

       A thousand cuts all over my body. A sword through my gut. An arrow to the heart. My throat being slashed. Drowned. Burned. Shredded. Torn apart. Slowly tortured. Choked.

        Terrible gruesome deaths. Somewhere in my pain-addled mind I realized that the only power the spirits had was to make whoever they touched feel their pain, whatever pain they felt when they died. I quickly saw how people would turn against each other and themselves to stop it.

       Crushed. Trampled. Head pulled off. Leg cut off. Arm ripped to shreds. Hammer to the head. Dagger to the heart. Frozen. Neck snapped. Ripped to shreds by wild animals.

        My throat became raw from my screams. I strained against the ropes, trying to get to the dagger still hidden in my boot. Anything to stop this.

        Heart ripped out of my chest. Chest smashed in. Head crushed. Stabbed in the back.

        Tears ran down my cheeks as I cried out, the pain of a thousand deaths leaving me desperate for any escape.

       They stopped. No more flickers. I sobbed in fear as I saw another flicker. No, not again. Not another one. The long finger tapped my forehead and I screamed as I was flayed alive. My own pain in my arm was trivial compared to the excruciating deaths of these spirits. I struggled and managed to bend my leg up so my foot was near where my hands were pinned between my back and the tree. I struggled, but my efforts were stopped by another finger. I gasped as some unknown force slowly pressed down on my chest. I gasped in relief when the spirit faded. 

        I couldn’t reach the dagger. I sighed and collapsed against the ropes, limp, only hoarse gasps escaping my throat as the spirits continued swarming me. 

        Speared. Impaled. Skewered. Disease. Executed. Dehydration. Starvation. Bleeding out.

        It stopped. I didn’t dare look up. Just stared at the grass that had a faint golden glow. Wait. I hazard a look up. Weak rays of morning light were trickling in through the thick forest canopy. Morning had come. I was safe until night fell again. I was exhausted. The absence of the never ending agony was a welcome relief, and my eyelids quickly became heavy. I didn’t fight it as I slipped into unconsciousness. 

       I jerked awake. Someone had used magic to pull me out of my sleeping state, even in my befuddled state I could tell that much. I looked up and blinked, trying to clear the residues of sleep from my eyes. My eyes focused on the forms of two women, Queen Luna and Kya.

       “No guards.”

       The Queen laughed. “The woods are quite safe at day, and I am more than capable of defending myself. Kya is also quite adept.”

         I hadn’t realized I had said anything out loud. I noticed that both Kya and the Queen were wearing armor. Leather with metal plates. The Queen and long cloak that marked her as royalty, and Kya wore the same cloak she did yesterday, the Court Mage’s. 

        “Are you any more willing to talk?” She asked, in a conversational tone. “Or do you need to spend another night here?”

        Many ideas flitted through my mind. I didn’t want to spend another night. I didn’t want to betray King Solaris. Maybe I could play along, get them to untie me. Use the dagger in my boot to kill the Queen. They would have no choice but to kill me. I would escape the torture and I wouldn’t betray my King. I was certain that I was not leaving this camp alive. I would prefer to avoid another night of torture. Might as well try to make something of it. Would they really untie me though? Surely, they would just get the info and then kill me. Maybe I could annoy them enough that they kill me anyways without me giving up any information. Or I could just be a butt? No idea, but I would do whatever I could to avoid another night. Barring 

        “Why don’t you ask your precious Court Mage how I managed to sneak into your camp full of soldiers without anyone noticing?” I croaked, my voice hoarse and barely able to make a sound. 

         Kya held up a canteen. “Drink.”

        I turned my head away, distrustful. 

        “It’s just water.” She sighed. “If you don’t drink you’ll die.”

        “Like you guys care about that.” I croaked.

        “As long as you’re a source of information we care.” The Queen said.

         “Figured as much.” My voice was barely audible. “Might as well just kill me now.”

         Kya raised the canteen to my lips. “Drink.”

         I kept my mouth pressed firmly shut.

        “And,” The Queen added as Kya continued her efforts. “I already know everything my Court Mage knows. Including that you’re soulmates and you used that connection to teleport in while they were sleeping and stole their clothes, weapons, and armor leaving yours behind.” She paused, gauging my reaction.

        I didn’t give any. I wasn’t that surprised. Mad sense that Kya would report an intruder right away, especially since she seemed close the Queen. 

         “Ah, I see. I didn’t realize how close you and your Mage were.” I forced out, throat burning, when Kya finally relented her efforts. The implication heavy in the air. As soon as I opened my mouth, Kya tried to force the canteen into my mouth, but I closed it quickly.

         The Queen and Kya both ignored my comment. The Queen continued as if I hadn’t spoke. 

         “What we cant figure out is why you teleported into the middle of an enemy encampment while injured. Or why you just immediately tried to leave without getting any information. And why you were so horribly prepared leaving your clothes out in the open.” She listed. 

       I didn’t respond. With Kya still hovering I didn’t want to risk it.

        “You can back off Kya. I want to see if they will respond.” The Queen said.

        She took two steps back, and I opened my mouth. “How did you know I was injured?”

         Kya answered this time, with a nod from the Queen. “When I woke and found you’re clothes they were still wet with blood. And last night when the guard was searching you I saw that your sleeve was soaked with blood.” She pointed towards my arm. “It still is.”

        I had almost forgotten about my arm. It seemed so trivial compared to the rest of the pain I had suffered all night.

        “Kya do you want to find out how badly they’re injured?” The Queen, asked but it wasn’t a suggestion.

        She stepped towards me and hovered her hands over where the rope wrapped around my arms. 

     “It’s a gash and an arrow wound.” She stepped back. “That does make sense we did find the broken shaft of an arrow with the rest of the stuff.”

        “Just the shaft?” The Queen asked.

       Kya nodded. “Yeah, we couldn’t find the head. Thought it was strange.”

        The Queen nodded. “Probably because it’s still embedded in their arm. They were trying to leave, and it was probably barbed so they didn’t have any time to try and remove it carefully.”

         Spot on. I thought, but remained silent.

         “Why would they teleport here with an arrow in their arm?” Kya asked confused and exasperated.

          The Queen shrugged, a decidedly unregal motion. “I have no idea. It seems like they were escaping something, but why teleport to the middle of an enemy encampment?”

       Their mention of teleportation reminded me of one thing. I had magic. And it had slowly been filling up all night, and my short amount of sleep and allowed my magic to almost fully recharge. I maintained a neutral expression as I summoned a small dagger of magic into my hand. I quickly sliced through the ropes tying my hands together. I didn’t give away my advantage. I had more options now. I might have a chance at escape. If only I had other emotional markers, I could just teleport away. As it was I would have to make do. I did have one emotional marker, someone important to the Queen. And I had a dagger. I teleported the dagger from my boot I to my hand, and focused on the weak soulmate bond. My stomach lurched and I teleported right behind Kya. I grabbed her and held the dagger to her throat.

       “Let me go or she dies.” I warned. Unfortunately, the severity of my threat didn’t convey well with my voice being barely louder than a whisper and little more than a rasp. Or maybe the Queen looked unaffected because I had misjudged their relationship.

        “You wouldn’t kill your own soulmate.” The Queen stated confidently.

         “She was willing to torture me. Are you really willing to bet on that?”

         “Just do it Luna, please. They aren’t that important. They didn’t learn anything. Just let them go. They’ll probably die wandering these woods anyways.” Kya begged.

         I tightened my grip, the knife pressing into Kya’s skin.

         The Queen hesitated. “Fine, go. Let her go and walk away and we won’t stop you.”

         “Thanks.” I released her and shoved her towards the Queen.

     I sheathed my dagger and turned and ran. Kya was right I was probably going to get lost and die if I kept just running through the woods. Luckily, I had other options. I stopped and pulled off my shirt. I took out my dagger and cut two large slits in the back. I took a deep breath and released my bat-like wings from the tattoos on my back. I folded them to my back and pulled my shirt back on sticking my wings through the two slits. I spread them and launched myself upwards. I broke through the thick cover of trees and looked around. I had maybe two hours before sundown.

      Fuck. I really didn’t want to spend another night at the mercy of the spirits. At least I would be able to reach my dagger this time. I wouldn’t have to endure it. 

       I turned to me right our camp was to the North. I would have to fly back over theirs to get there. Hopefully, they wouldn’t shoot me down. I climbed up high, ignoring the biting cold as I used what little clouds there were for cover. Thankfully, no one notified me and soon I was flying over a wasteland, ruined by the war. A few small villages were managing to claw a living out, but most of it was just dead dirt. 

      The sound of battle reaches me before I could see anything. I flew over a small hill and saw fighting in the small valley. They were fighting for a town, we were defending it from the moon soldiers. I couldn’t just fly by. I had to try and help fight.

         I flew to the far side of the town and dropped to the ground. I stored my wings back in the tattoos on my back and crouched next to a fallen soldier. I stripped them of their weapons and armor. They didn’t need it anymore. The soldier I chose was a knight and wore almost full armor, but I only took their chestplate and bracers. I quickly enchanted them to cast a ward spell over my whole body and I grabbed the soldier's sword. My left arm was still injured, so one would have to do. I searched their waist and found a canteen. I greedily drank the water, my dry throat rejoicing. 

        I wiped my mouth off and stood. Time to fight. Time to make my King proud. I ran forwards into the town and joined my comrades fighting on the frontlines. Even with only one sword I had my wards so I was able to fight much better than at the camp. Adrenaline quickly chased away my exhaustion, but when I found my sword at the neck of an enemy soldier, I hesitated. I knew what that felt like. They took advantage of my hesitation and kicked me backwards. My resolve hardened. I had to do what was necessary. It wasn’t nearly the worst way to die. I longed forward and separated their head from the shoulders.

       The second one fell when I cut off one of their legs.

        The third when drove my sword through their helmet into their face.

        A comrade’s axe landed in a warrior’s chest. I turned and fought a small mage. They died quickly. A blade bounced off my wards. I turned and faced a moon soldier. I partied their next blow, and launched a counter attack, causing them to back up under my onslaught. They walked straight into another Sun soldier who bashed their head in. 

         The sound of a horn broke me out of my fighting haze. They were retreating. I was soaked with sweat and my left arm was in agony, but we had won. My wards had held and I didn’t have any more injuries. I breathed a sigh of relief. Soldiers around me were doing similar actions. Leaning against walls, sitting down, sheathing weapons. We were all tired, but we had won and held the village. 

        I yelped in surprise as someone grabbed me from behind. I felt a knife pressing against my wards.

         “Not so nice on the other side is it.” Someone hissed in my ear. Kya.

         I felt my stomach twist as Kya teleported us. The throne room (tent) swam into focus. I guess the Queen was an emotional marker. She held me tight and continued holding the knife to my neck despite my wards stopping it from cutting my skin. 

         “Nicely done Kya.” The Queen complimented. “I suppose we have you to thank you for the idea. You may be able to teleport to Kya, but she can do the same. And I wasn’t done with you, and getting an alive sun soldier for interrogation has never been so easy.”

         “Why do you fight for them?” Kya asked. “They had you fighting again despite just escaping. You’re still wearing the same clothes even if they gave you armor, and that doesn’t quite fit you.”

        The Queen looked surprised.

        “I chose to fight for my King when I saw a battle as I was flying home.” I spat. “I would never just pass by my fellow soldiers who could use help defending a village from you.”

         “Flying?” The Queen asked, raising an eyebrow.

         Fuck. I had slipped up. Now they were sure to kill me.

         “Yes. What? You going to kill me now. I know you hate my kind.” Offense I’m the best defense.

         “Kya, strip them and uncover their back.” The Queen ordered.

        Kya released her grip on me. “Don’t try to run. I can find you wherever you are.”

        “Fine.” I muttered. I shied away from her hands though, remembering the reaching figures. “Can you just let me do it though?”

        Kya looked to the Queen who nodded. “I don’t see why not, but remove that dagger from their boot.”

       Kya stepped forwards and grabbed the dagger before I had a chance to stop her. Dammit. 

        “What makes you think that we hate your kind?” The Queen asked as I unbuckled my armor. 

         “My king rescued me from a village who was loyal to you and tossed me out because of my wings. He said they would have just left me to die all because I had wings and you exiled all of my kind, the winged.” I explained venomously.

        Kya looked at me with shock and confusion. “What are you talking about? The Queen has never exiled the winged. She accepts them like everyone else. If your village threw you out it had nothing to do with her or us.”

        The Queen places a hand on Kya’s shoulder. “It’s okay Kya. They don’t know any better. Solis lied to them. I’d bet that he didn’t find them, but that someone stole them from a village when they took it over in order to turn them into a loyal soldier.”

        I paused, my hands on the edge of my shirt. “My King would never. Why do you keep insisting on lying?”

       “I’m not lying.” The Queen asserted calmly. “Now turn around and let me see your back.”

       I grit my teeth and turned, I didn’t have a choice. I heard her step closer, but still flinched when I felt her hands on my back. She pulled up the back of my shirt and I felt her fingers trace the markings of my tattoos.

        “They’re...” Kya muttered, trailing off.

        “What?” I spat. “Hideous? Monstrous? Unnatural?”

         “No, pteropine noctillionine.” The Queen said, sounding awed. 

         “What?” I repeated, not understanding. 

          “Pteropine noctillionine, batlike.” She repeated.

         “Yeah, so?”

         “They’re a trait of the original five Moon families.” The Queen explained. “They’re all but unheard of these days, since only one family remains and we lost the trait several generations ago.”

          I stepped away from the Queen and yanked my shirt back down. “So you’re saying I’m some sort of moon royalty?”

         “No, I’m saying that your ancestors were, and that your birth family probably would’ve never given you up.” The Queen explained. 

         “Will you summon them?” Kya asked.

         I shook my head. “No you’re wrong. This is some sort of weird interrogation technique. You’re crazy. That can’t be true.”

         “It is.” The Queen said.

         “No. No. No.” I kept repeating, backing away from them. “I trust Solis, not you. I trust my King. You’re lying.”

         “Why do you call him your king?” The Queen asked.

         “Because he’s my King.” I answered, confused.

         “Most people call their monarch ‘the king’ or ‘king so and so’ not ‘my king.’ So why is he so special to you?” She pressed.

         I shrugged. “I told you. He saved me. I would be dead if not for him.”

        “You’ll be dead because of him.” Kya said, surprisingly exasperated.

        “Why do you care?” I spat back. “I’m just another soldier for you to torture and get information out of. Not like I have any useful information. I’m just a soldier, not even a messenger.”

        “The king cared enough to save you, but you’re still just another soldier to him.” The Queen said calmly. “Do you really not see the hypocrisy? He doesn’t care about you. You’re just another soldier to him.”

         “You’re lying.” I asserted, tears welling up. “You’re trying to trick me. To play mind games. I won’t fall for it you can’t turn me against him.”

         “If you’re so important than surely he’d be willing to pay for your freedom.” The Queen said. “What’s your name? I’ll need if I’m to tell the king who I have.”

        “Raven.” I answered.

      The Queen raised an eyebrow but turned to Kya. “Kya go tell one of the guards to write up a ransom note saying we have Raven and deliver it. Even if they don’t have information I might at least be able to get some gold out of this.”

         Kya nodded and ran out of the tent. 

      The Queen turned back to face me. “Can I see your wings?”

        “What? Just because you’re royalty doesn’t give you the excuse to be rude.” I folded my arms, then winced. The arrow in my arm reminding me of its presence.

         “You still haven't dealt with your arm?” The Queen asked sounding, well, concerned. But that didn’t make sense. Why did she care?

         “Haven't had any time.” I hissed.

         Kya came back in, and the Queen turned to her. “Take them to the dungeons, but stop by the infirmary and have them bandage their arm.”

         “Why do you care?” I demanded yet again, but received no answer. 

         Kya grabbed me by the arm an led my out of the tent and through the camp. We stopped at a large white tent with a Red Cross on it. We entered and Kya turned to one of the nurses.

         “The Queen wants her arm patched up before we put her in a cell.” She explained as if bored.

         The Nurse nodded and led me over to a cot where she had me sit down. “Can you take your shirt off?”

        I nodded and pulled my shirt off. It was all but ruined with two large slits in the back and the left arm soaked in blood. I hazard a look at my arm and immediately turned away. The cut and arrow wound were both infected, red,  and inflamed, and the arrow wound was oozing puss.

        I heard the nurse stifle a gasp. “This is going to hurt. I have to pull this arrow out.”

         “It’s barbed.” I said.

          “Ok, wait right here.” She left and went into the back of the tent to grab something. She returned with a glowing hot knife. I knew it was so that it was sanitary and would cauterize the wound, but that didn’t mean I would have to like it. 

       “You might want to bite down on something.” The nurse warned. 

        Lacking anything to bite down on I settled for just gritting my teeth. I gripped the edge of the cot as the nurse carefully slipped the knife in between the arrow and my flesh and began to slowly pull the arrow out. A barb caught and I grunted. She maneuvered the knife to guard the barb from catching again and she pulled it all the way out. She set the head aside and held the knife to the hole in my arm, cauterizing it. She wiped the blood away from my arm and pressed the knife against the other gash. I hissed in pain. 

       “I’m still going to bandage these, but they shouldn’t bleed.” The nurse said.

        I nodded. 

        She wrapped clean white bandage around my arm with swift practiced motions. “You’re good to go.”

         “Thanks.” I said as I pulled my shirt back on. Kya grabbed my arm again and led me back through the camp towards the woods.

        Oh no. Not again. They said the dungeons, not the woods. I considered struggling, but realized that it was a lost cause. I would just have to try and escape after. I had magic left. I could use that. I glanced at the knife sheathed in Kya’s belt. I focused on it and teleported it into my left hand, the one farthest from Kya. She didn’t notice. I pretended to stumble causing my to have an excuse to bend down. I slid the knife into the sheath in my boot.

       “Careful.” Kya warned as she pulled me back up.

       “Sorry.” I muttered, suppressing my joy.

        “Just come on. We’re almost there.” She sighed.

        “In a hurry to get back to your Queen?” I teased.

        She yanked me forwards. “Shut up.”

        But I saw her blush. I was definitely right about them. Some part of me realized I should be jealous (she was my soulmate after all) but the rest of me was just celebrating being right. They may have captured me but I could still annoy the hell out of them. 

        We reached the edge of the camp. Large cages with blankets in them were on the very edge, torches keep the spirits at bay. I sighed. I was really not looking forward to spending any time in a cage. It would take a while for me to figure out how to escape, since it wouldn’t just be cutting free from ropes. Kya pulled open the door to one of the cages and pushed me inside.

        “A guard should bring food and water by in the morning.” She told me before closing the door, and turning to leave. 

         Strange. She didn’t use a key. I experimentally pushed on the door. It didn’t budge. I held my hands over the lock. Magic. Just like I suspected. That might take some time to unravel. The sun was almost set. It might be good for me to actually get a decent night's sleep. I could worry about the lock tomorrow. I glanced at the shabby blanket and laid down on the cold uncomfortable metal. Screw this damn moon army.

         I woke to the sound of metal banging on metal. I jumped up and winced as I smacked my head into the top of the cage. I glared at the guard who had woken me and he glared right back.

       “I’ve got a letter for you.” He grunted. “The Queen said to give it to you, even though it’s to her from Solis.”

        I grabbed the letter. Must be his response to the ransom, maybe I wouldn’t have to escape. But then why would she give me the letter instead of letting me go. I opened up the letter and read it.

Luna,

       I presume you think that I’d be willing to pay for a mere soldier because you discovered her batlike wings. You are very much mistaken. This ‘Raven’ was merely a prize that I seized when I saw that advantage. I couldn’t resist the chance to steal a batlike winged right from under your nose. Despite the fact that she was a prize, she is still just a soldier and I have plenty of those. My money can be better spent elsewhere. Do what you want with your precious batlike.

       -King Solis

       My hands shook as I read the letter. I turned it over as if expecting more. But there was nothing. I looked at the envelope. Maybe this was a trick, but no. His seal and signature were both present. How could it be true? He really didn’t care for me. He only knew me because I was a prize. A way to hurt the Queen. Tears began falling down my cheeks. What was I supposed to do now? Escape and go back and fight for someone who thought I was expendable, a conquest, just like the villages he captured. He didn’t save me, he stole me. How else had he lied to me? If he didn’t care about me then... there was no one. No one cared for me or about me. I had no one to fight for and no one to fight for me.

         I threw the letter across the cage and sank into the corner, pulling my knees up to my chest. Eventually, my tears stopped and my breathing leveled out, but I didn’t move. Instead I turned my attention to the lock on the cage. Even if I didn’t know where I was going, I knew I didn’t want to be stuck in this cage. Escape was still my first priority. I closed my eyes as I focused on how the magic wrapped around the lock. I slowly began unraveling the spell, understanding it, so that I can mimic the spell needed to unlock it. 

       My concentration was disrupted by metal on metal again. The guard shoved a canteen at me. I ignored him. I didn’t trust him, I didn’t trust anyone who followed Queen Luna. I didn’t trust anything they offered me.

         I closed my eyes and went back to working on the spell. I was almost there.

         Metal on metal. I growled and glared at the intruder. It was the guard (duh), but he was joined by the Queen and Kya. I noticed distractedly that the sky was darkening again. I had lost track of time working on the spell.

         “Do you believe us now?” The Queen asked.

          “Yes.” I admitted. “But I still don’t trust and I still don’t like you.”

       “I didn’t expect you too. That’s why you’re still locked up.”

        “How long do you plan on keeping me here?” I asked. “Why not just kill me and be done with it?”

         Kya glanced at the guard before answering. “I think if you think about it enough you’ll figure out why.”

        They turned and left. If Kya glanced at the guard it probably had something to do with us being soulmates, assuming they didn’t want that being public knowledge. But, she had been willing to let me be tortured. Why not kill me? I closed my eyes again, but instead of turning back to the lock I explored the soulmate bond. It was stronger, no doubt from our teleports and interactions. That must be why. Since it was stronger she couldn’t bare killing me. I still didn’t understand it. But, it wouldn’t matter. I would just need to escape and I’d be done with them. I turned my attention back to the lock. 

        Yes. I felt the magic unravel. Now, to just wait until dark and sneak past the guards. I waited patiently for the sun to set and the moon to rise. Now was the time for action. I snuffed out the nearest torches with a touch of magic. I pushed open the door to my cage and silently left, all but invisible in the darkness. The guards didn’t notice me in the chaos to relight the torches. I paused, and as an afterthought left a quick illusion spell behind so that they wouldn’t realize I was missing for a few hours, giving me time. I turned and set off through the camp. Maybe it was stupid, but I wasn’t going back in those woods again. Not at night.

         “You look like you’ve had a rough night.” Someone said and stepped out of the shadows into the faint firelight from a fire a few rows down.

          My eyes shot to her and I tensed. 

         “Maybe I could help you relax.” She said with a smile.

         I relaxed. She didn’t realize I was a prisoner. She was just trying to get laid. 

         “Maybe you can.” I shot back, sizing them up. What did I have to lose?

         She stepped closer to me and put one hand on my shoulder. “Come back to my tent and let me prove to you that I can?”

         I smiled and nodded. “Lead the way.”

         She led me to a small tent, actually a tent unlike the more permanent structure of the bunk tents and throne room. She ducked under the flap and I followed. She did have a thin mattress that was probably made of straw. It would be better than sleeping on the ground or the hard metal of the cage. 

-not writing what happens next.... use your imagination-

      “Ezra! We had a meeting. Where were you? You’re still asleep? Seriously? Come on wake up.”

        I blinked my eyes open and registered the angry voice as the Queen. What in the world did she want? Oh fuck. The Queen. I was screwed. I really should’ve just run. I felt Ezra burrow her face into my back. 

      “I never agreed to a meeting.” She mumbled. “And just because you’re my soulmate doesn’t mean that you can just barge into my tent.”

I tensed. Soulmate? I assumed that the Queen either didn’t have one or that they were an enemy or something since she and Kya were obviously a thing.

“No, but I am the Queen, so send your next conquest on her way and let’s talk.” The Queen demanded.

I flinched at the word conquest. I knew what I was getting into but it reminded me of the King. Ezra ignored the queen and just pulled me closer.

“Come back later Luna. I’m busy.” She groaned.

“Busy? Doing what? Fucking every person in this camp?” The Queen demanded.

I felt Ezra turn behind me to face the Queen. “Hey! That’s unfair. We agreed, you can date Kya and I can date whoever I want.”

“Date, not fuck.” The Queen said, her irritation growing.

“To-mae-to, to-mah-to.” Ezra replied blearily.

“Ezra...” The Queen warned.

“Luna...” Ezra mimicked. 

“Ugh.” The Queen grunted. “I guess if you don’t want to know about the strange winged Sun Soldier I captured then I just won’t tell you.”

Ezra sat up suddenly. “Wait, hold on, I’ll get up.”

“Dear Moon Goddess!” The Queen swore.  “You’re not wearing any clothes.”

“Obviously.” Ezra scoffed. “That’s generally what happens when someone has sex.”

“Shut up.” The Queen paused and collected herself. “Wake her up and tell her to go too.”

“She’s already awake.” Ezra said plainly.

I froze, uncertain what to do. How in the world would I get myself out of this?

I gasped as a body landed on top of me. What the hell?

        “Kya?” Ezra and the Queen exclaimed at the same time.

         Oh, Fuck. I had forgotten that escape was pointless when Kya could just teleport to me. But, why did it take her so long? Oh right- the illusion. But, that should’ve only lasted a few hours. I suppose it didn’t really matter. 

       “Ezra? Luna?” Kya asked with the same incredulity as they had.

        “What are you doing here?” The Queen asked.

         “I got word from the guards that Raven had escaped so I teleported to her.” Kya explained. “And yes, after I sent them away to search for clues. I know how to keep a secret.”

         “Ezra! Really! I may be flexible enough to allow you to hook up with whoever, but I draw the line at escaped prisoners.” The Queen fumed. 

        “How was I supposed to know she was an escaped prisoner?” Ezra demanded. “She was wearing our clothes.”

         I felt Kya adjust on my back, sitting up so that she was straddling with her hands holding down my shoulders. “Why is she naked? Why are you naked?” She asked, neither Ezra or the Queen responded. Kya answered her own question. “Ezra? Really? You fucked my soulmate.”

        “You’re soulmates?” Ezra asked, surprised, but then grew angry. “And you don’t get to be mad at me for that Kya. One, I didn’t know, and two, you’re dating my soulmate.”

         The Queen cut off Kya’s response. “Enough. It doesn’t matter. How did you not notice her wings? She was naked.”

         “Well I noticed she had wings, the back of her shirt was cut but it was pitch black I couldn’t see the actual markings.” Ezra defended. “What’s so special about them?”

         In response, Kya pulled down the blanket exposing the rest of my back. “Look for yourself.”

         “Pteropine noctillionine...” Ezra muttered. “I assumed since her name was Raven that her wings were raven wings or at the very least black bird wings.”

        “One would think.” Kya commented. 

        “It’s not like I picked my own name.” I grunted. “Now can you get off me so I can change.”

        Kya began to shift, but the Queen stopped her. “Wait.”

        “Why?”

        “She might have something to her sleeve, or boot.”

        Dammit, why did the Queen have to be smart?

        “What do you know? She has another knife in her boot.” The Queen commented dryly.

        “Hey, that's my knife. How’d she get that?” Kya muttered.

       “How did she escape either?” The Queen asked. “Raven seems to infuriatingly only being more questions instead of answering them.”

       Tired of being pinned while naked I decided to take action. I summoned my wings, causing Kya to shriek and fall backwards as I spread them. I quickly grabbed my pants and slid them on before yanking my shirt over my head. I slid on my boots, noting that the Queen has removed the knife from the left one before standing and turning to face them with the corner of the tent to my back. 

        The Queen seemed satisfied that I was still trapped, and remained calm. “Why would you hook up with someone in camp instead of just leaving?” She asked.

        I shrugged. “My world was-is kinda falling apart I didn’t-don’t have the best judgment.”

         “Why is your world falling apart? The only thing you learned is that your king doesn’t care about you. That shouldn’t be that surprising.” Kya asked, genuinely confused.

         “Think about Kya.” The Queen said, answering for me. “She teleported her as night set while injured. Why? Because Solis always recalls his troops at the first sign of dawn, but I wait. She was probably surrounded and about to die, so her instinctual magic took in to save her and teleport her somewhere ‘safe.’ She ended up here, meaning that your soul link however small was the biggest one she had, meaning she’s alone. So if she thought the king was the only one who cared for her then it would be heartbreaking to find out that you really are alone and that no one cares about you.”

      Damn. The Queen was spot on.

      Ezra broke the silence that followed. “So now that you’ve psychanalyses your girlfriends soulmate what are you going to do with her?”

         “She’s just a soldier and has no information.” The Queen stated.

        “But, we aren’t killing her.” Kya added quickly.

         “Why? Because I’m your soulmate.” I growled. “You seem fine with torturing me and licking me in a cage, but mercifully killing me, no that’s too much.”

         “You tortured her?” Ezra interrupted, surprised.

         “Not directly.” Kya explained, as if that made it better.

        “No...” I drawled. “You just tied me to a tree in the woods at night at let the spirits have their way.”

         “Luna!” Ezra accused. “I thought we talked about this. No one deserves that. No wonder she was so weird about me touching her face and hands.”

         “Maybe if you talked to me more I would listen.” The Queen retorted. “And it’s a valid means of torture the sports can’t physically hurt them, so I don’t have to worry about them dying but they still inflict pain.”

        “There’s better ways to get information.” Ezra countered. “That’s why I and my branch exist. The spirits are just too evil. I would wish that upon my worst enemy.”

        “There’s no high road in war.” The Queen said loftily. “I don’t really know what to do with Raven. Kya really doesn’t need to waste her time and magic tracking down her every time she manages to escape. And, Kya doesn’t want her dead.”

        “You could just, let me go?” I suggested. 

        “So you can go back and fight for my enemy? No.” The Queen said flatly.

       “I’m not fighting for that liar anymore.” I hissed.

         “Will you fight for us?” Kya asked.

        “I don’t trust you either.”

        “What were you going to do if you escaped?” Ezra asked.

         I shrugged. “I haven't actually thought that far ahead. Maybe join some village somewhere.”

         “Honestly, I don’t see a problem with just letting her go.” Ezra said, shrugging.

         The Queen sighed. “Fine. Be gone by nightfall and don’t cause any trouble in your way out.”

         She turned and left and Kya followed.

         Ezra turned to me. “This was fun we should do it again sometime. Minus the Luna barging in part.”

          I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you just did one-night stands.”

        She shrugged. “I make exceptions.”

        “I wouldn’t be against it if you run into me again, but I don’t plan on coming back here.” I said heading towards the exit.

        “Understandable.” She said, following me out. “I’ll see you sometime then.”

        I nodded and turned the other way, taking off and flying above the camp. 

[tearlessrain]

time to subject myself to Dracula: The Dark Prince, aka another bad movie starring another dude from black sails. this time with 100% less horny on main because my only real motivation for watching it is it truly looks to be a whole new caliber of horrible and I have to see it.

witness my standards for incomprehensibly bad movies being raised prohibitively high in every way imaginable under the cut

I seriously doubt that.

this was made in 2013 by the way, not 1994 as the graphic design of that logo might suggest

oh good, once again we’re opening with an exposition narrator. except this time it’s a woman and she has less vocal inflection and emotional investment than an amazon echo.

I feel like she’s gonna tell me to turn left in 800ft

it feels like a dragon age epilogue, but just. worse.

WE ARE WATCHING A TRULY HIGH QUALITY MOVIE TONIGHT MY FRIENDS

I can’t even describe how bad this is, you really need the sound. that’s where the true lack of quality shines through. siri’s depressed sister is talking about pre-vampire dracula’s epic feats in battle to more weird sepia dioramas and the dying soldiers sound like they hired muppets to voice them

HOLY WIG BATMAN

also this dude is obnoxiously jovial considering he’s supposed to be dracula, even if this is pre-vampire

oh no dracula’s advisors, who all wear black hooded robes and scowl ominously, have betrayed him and killed his wife, how unexpected

someone drew these, looked at them, and thought “yeah that’s good enough to go in the final movie”

the characters are speaking both english and what I assume is... romanian or something? transylvanian? it’s not spanish or welsh I can tell you that much. anyway there are no subtitles and also no rhyme or reason to which they’re speaking at any given time so I hope I’m not missing anything important. probably not.

so like... they killed his wife, yes. and he went on a murderfest in what appears to be a church in revenge, makes sense. now a dude who... I think maybe he’s supposed to be a priest or something? but he wasn’t speaking english so I can’t be sure, then a voice over said “I have killed for god, the hand that fought for him will now be turned against him” but I’m unclear on who was speaking. this movie is an absolute clusterfuck and we aren’t even five minutes in yet. this is still the prologue.

now zombie alexa claims dracula was cursed with immortality “in punishment for his defiance” but I’m still not sure... what defiance. he killed the dudes who murdered his wife and that’s somehow not okay despite his apparent status as a war hero, a designation that implies a LOT of killing has already happened?

fucking finally, the title screen. usually a prologue clarifies what a movie is about but I went in thinking I knew and now have absolutely no idea what I’m watching.

a carriage drawn by friesians is rolling through a misty forest with wolf howling sound bites playing at random in the background to vaguely urgent music, now this is what I’m here to see.

nevermind the carriage is too slow so they’re leaving it because that’s a thing people do (?????)

“Lady Arwen, we cannot delay”

seriously though everyone’s mumbling so much I can’t understand them much better than when they were speaking whatever the other language was

BOOTLEG XENA RIDES AGAIN

but this time she’s accompanied by esme. we don’t know who esme is yet either.

there she goes

and now the knights are being attacked by hilarious squeaky goblin things? who I guess are led by this power rangers villain with, again, an unintentionally hilarious voice. it’s like a bad batman impression.

with every minute that passes I become less certain of what I’m actually watching.

they’re looking for the “light bringer” and telepathically overseen by the world’s most halfassed lestat dracula

they’ve also got some random prisoners in a cage wagon

okay the prisoners are being taken to dracula’s castle and I’m sorry for such an image-heavy post but I NEED you to understand the community theater level of set design/quality we’re dealing with here

“what is that?” cardboard and mod podge is my guess

so far the only thing esme has done is fall off her horse and be knocked unconscious, and now a Roving Band of Misogynists has appeared to harass Bootleg Xena 3.0 in the most generic way possible (the words “what ‘ave we got ‘ere” accompanied by a chorus of malicious cackling and some whistles have been spoken)

oooh no the ringleader of the Roving Misogynists has been given a name, and it’s ~Lucien~. I have a horrible feeling that I’m about to bear witness to the worst romantic subplot in the history of cinema.

oh for... I thought at least bootleg xena 3.0 would be a Strong Female Character and fight them off, but she just rapped lucien on the head with her sword and then they stole her very important box and left as obnoxiously as they came

OH NO SHE’S ASKING TO GO WITH THEM, SOMEHOW THAT’S HER PLAN I THINK I’M RIGHT SHE’S GONNA HOOK UP WITH LUCIEN AND IT’S GOING TO BE HORRIBLE.

“trust me” she says to esme, who, wisely, obviously does not.

I appreciate the timely thunderclap every single time the castle comes on screen

who the fuck are you, did you wander onto the wrong movie set

nope okay they’re not gonna explain that shot at all we’re just moving on to a shot of a weird angel shadow doing slow flamenco moves on the ceiling while ominously gurgling, and the prisoners being led into the throne room

“what’s happening to us?” I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE SAME THING, PRISONER #3

oh never mind that guy from before wasn’t a priest, he is remfield, chancellor of this kingdom, which means the last scene he was in makes even less sense

AKSLDGHJFGAKDLFJGHKAJGHFDKLFDS;GJokay so. remfield introduced himself then said “I will see that your needs are tended to.” then dracula in his new white contacts gets up from his shadowy throne, circumnavigates the cluster of prisoners, sniffs them dramatically, and walks back to his throne. remfield then says, “come, I will see that your needs are tended to” because proofreading is for COWARDS

now remfield is... literally giving the prisoners a tour of the castle and going on the “oh you’re our guests and many pleasures and adventures await you” speech and somehow the prisoners are accepting this despite the fact that they were just carted in on a barred wagon in shackles and got sniffed by a bad alucard cosplayer. they have a fucking harpist.

seriously, who the fuck are you

she’s just been twirling around in the background of this entire scene for no discernible reason no matter what rooms they go into

what the hell am I watching

yeah they’re just going for that incredibly suspicious food and also seem weirdly okay with the ambient clusters of scantily clad lesbians no one will explain okay they deserve whatever happens to them

WHOA TITS apparently this movie is a different rating than I thought

remfield: the newcomers have settled in

dracula: I  d o n ‘ t  l i k e  s t r a n g e r s

then why pray tell have you brought them directly into your home in chains. I cannot stress enough how avoidable this situation was for you my dude

“just think sire, once the light bringer is in your possession no one need die again” “except those who defy me” [ominous chime as the angel shadow on the ceiling continues its sensuous flamenco dance]

meanwhile in the misty blue filter forest of eternal night, some guy in a tricorn finds a gold amulet that I think bootleg xena 3.0 dropped, and the power ranger villain rides menacingly in a random direction for a few seconds

I’m still waiting on whether this masterful display of cinematic calvinball has any cohesive story to it.

ah joy and we’re back to The Non-Adventures of Xena 3.0, Esme, and the Roving Misogynists

as an aside, I’m not calling her that just to be dumb, I’m calling her that because they still haven’t given her a name even though her sidekick got one in the first five minutes

they’ve opened the box and revealed... the light bringer, which is a wooden staff. because it is not shiny gold, the roving misogynists regard it with confounded disgrunglement and scoff at xena 3.0′s insistence that it can defeat dracula

these guys sound like what an eleven year old thinks gangs of ne’er-do-wells sound like. like cartoon weasels, if the weasels were also mediocre pirates who have heard of women, conceptually, but never seen one. like goblins in a pre-written D&D campaign run by a slightly overwhelmed first time DM.

HUR DUR WALKING STICK NOT TREASURE, WOMAN DUMB

it’s what cain used to slay abel, apparently. given that zombie alexa mentioned that dracula is the descendent of abel, this leaves us with the terrifying implication that someone did put at least some vestige of effort into writing this movie.

oh good she’s finally gonna fight lucien

no she failed again. please someone just punch the shit out of lucien so he’ll stop.

NO WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT STOP IT GOD HAVE SOME STANDARDS WOMAN. STOP PLAYING FLOATY ROMANTIC MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND THEY ARE LITERALLY STILL STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ENTIRE BAND OF ROVING MISOGYNISTS

I thought it might at least be a trick but no she is actually, genuinely starstruck over this profoundly mediocre olde-timey frat boy who called her “sweetheart” while she was trying to explain to him why the ancient dracula-defeating relic was important.

this guy.

we did it boys, we found a worse love story than twilight

also I just. I wish I could convey with words the way the roving misogynists react to every single thing lucien and sometimes xena 3.0 says like the world’s worst greek chorus in a literally neverending stream

lucien (post makeout and xena 3.0 explaining again that the relic is ancient and powerful and they’ve searched for ages to find it): well we may not be knights but we can respect that

[cacophony of rowdy but understated agreement]

lucien: what do you think boys, should we give it back?

[assorted grumbles of assent]

xena 3.0: hm, a thief with a conscience

[gruff mercenary-esque chuckling]

lucien: maybe even a heart

[chorus of “ooooooOOOooh”s and some whistles]

it just goes on like that in every scene they happen to be physically adjacent to, they never shut up but also never actually contribute or say anything meaningful

ah, the mysterious leonardo has appeared. I think he was the one they were trying to take the light bringer to so that’s handy

“what is happening here? what is this flirtation?? is this the people to share your sacred secrets with???” - leonardo, the only remotely rational person in the entire movie

oh he is schooling these idiots, finally someone with sense. it’s bouncing right off of lucien, but at least he’s saying it.

“the scourge” - leonardo

“scourge!” “scourge!?” “scourge?” “hrgghhg??” “hrrm...” - the roving misogynists

power ranger villain and his squeaking goblins vs leonardo, the most useless female leads of all time, and the roving misogynists. who will win.

not the people watching this movie, I can tell you that much.

oh no, the lightbringer isn’t working. this will do nothing to convince the roving misogynists that it isn’t a walking stick

oop, wilhelm scream

oh no lucien has picked up the light bringer

goddamn it he’s the chosen one isn’t he

yep he activated the stick and now we all have to suffer

oh xena 3.0′s coming for power ranger villain maybe she’ll actually do something

nope she bounced off him and now he’s grabbed her and hauled her onto his horse

“you’re coming with me” he says in his weird batman voice, to make sure the audience can tell that he is in fact taking her with him

and esme has yelled “no” to make sure we remember that she’s in the movie

wait what the. did lucien just yell “xena” is that her actual name what the fuck. what the fuck. I had to have misheard that. okay I can’t tell what he’s saying for sure but someone’s bound to say her name again at some point in the movie so I’ll revisit that.

and on that note, I think I’ll end here, because there ended up being a LOT more to unpack in this movie than I expected, it’s after midnight, and I’m tired.

tomorrow, we follow lucien as he presumably goes to save some lady he wildly disrespected and then made out with one time whose name may or may not actually be xena, and hopefully figure out what the hell is even going on with dracula, remfield, and their castle full of artfully strewn half naked harpist lesbians and dancing ceiling shadows. because right now I really don’t have time to unpack all that, and I have a feeling it will only get worse.

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Gormless Ch. 4 - Dab on them Pineapples

A well-meaning friend gave me a book series that is hilariously bad. The first book was Souless and my riffs were entitled brainless. This second book is entitled Changless and these riff are then gormless.

I mean to say I have entitled them gormless! Not that my riffs are dumb, and the effort I spend on them stupid since I’m the only one who enjoys them. HAHA!

The story is SUPPOSED TO be about how a badass lady wearing a rad-looking carriage dress hits baddies with her umbrella and bangs her hot werewolf husband.  In reality it’s mostly poor attempts at being witty, flirty, and superior.

For the last book check out the brainless tag.

If you want the TL;DR version but want to read these new riffs anyway?

This story is set in supernatural Victorian steampunk England.  Alexia is our NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS protag.  She is a soulless, which means she’s able to negate the abilities of vampires and werewolves by touching them. She’s recently married a big oaf, named Lord Connel Maccon.  He’s the manchild in charge of the supernatural police with a zillion dollars and he’s totes super hot too ok.  Their relationship is mostly arguments about how Maccon can’t tell her fucking anything.  Alexia has also recently become head of ~Soulless affairs~ in Queen Victoria’s government.  She has a dumb friend named Ivy, a gay vampire friend named Akeldama, a family who’s evil because they do the same shit as her but while being blonde, and most importantly Alexia is better than everyone cause…cause.

Last time on Gormless:

There’s some mysterious force that’s turning the Vampires and werewolves into humans. Alexia is in charge of figuring out that deal, and she is doing a bad job at it.  Her husband is in charge of the Supernatrual Police (BUR) so he’s going to Scotland about it.

There’s a dude named Channing who wants to punch and have sex with Alexia, and Ivy is getting married to some rich slub, even though she’s in wub with Maccon’s servant Tunstell.

Alexia’s hubby told her to go to a hat store for mysterious plot reasons, she brings her dopey friend Ivy.  The hat store is run by a hot lesbian and as they’re chatting BOOM an explosion! GOLLY WHAT’S NEXT!?

Chapter 4 - Dab on them Pineapples

This chapter starts off totally under described.  Basically the explosion shook the hats on their nice dangling hooks, and turned out the lights.  They don’t even describe it as unbalancing Alexia.  So the whole next bit makes so little sense.  She first reacts by feeling around for Ivy.  She finds Ivy has fainted…cause okay? Ivy is whispering about Tunstell though so she’s like, “YEAH MY FRIEND UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR AFTER AN EXPLOSION IS FINE! BYE LOSER!”

She immediately starts scurrying around for that secret passage she thought she saw earlier. Finds it, goes in, and down an elevator. I just…I was so flummoxed that this was her first response?  All it would take for this to make more sense is to write, “It sounded as if the explosion happened below them, and Alexia would bet you 100 pounds that this secret passage would lead her straight to it. And what if someone was hurt down there?”

It seemed so bizarre for her to go, “EXPLOSION? I’M GOING TO MAKE A BEELINE FOR THE SECRET PASSAGE! MY FRIEND OUT COLD? WHATEVER!”

When she gets down there she finds a messy workshop, where a small explosion clearly took place.  She finds LeFoux yelling at a child and there’s a ghost lady just chilling there.  The gist of the conversation is that the child threw a rag soaked in ETHER into a huge furnace which caused the explosion.  The boy is just like, “lol it went bang.”  And Alexia thinks that’s hilarious and reintroduces herself. LeFoux has to remark that WOW ISN’T LADY MACCON SMART FOR FINDING OUT THE SECRET PASSAGEWAY? GOSH I KNOW I CONFIRMED IT TO HER MINUTES AGO! BUT SHE’S SO SMART!  The ghost is LeFoux’s aunt Beatrice, and the boy is introduced as LeFoux’s son Quesnel even though the two do not look related.

I also find it odd that LeFoux, the owner of this establishment, with a shop full of customers, just slips into the passage and doesn’t give a token, “DO NOT PANIC CUSTOMERS I’M GOING TO FIGURE OUT THE ISSUE, PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

Alexia praises the child for the explosion.  I can’t help but feel a bit exasperated by the book’s tone for this.  This child could have not only killed himself on a flight of fancy but perhaps a block worth of buildings full of humans in a crowded city, and the story treats it like he stole a pudding out of the fridge he wasn’t supposed to have.  But I mean, my job is to worry for the well-being of children and I have a habit of overthinking this shit so take that paragraph with as much or as little care as you see fit.

LeFoux punishes Quesnel and tells her aunt to take him away so she can have sexual tension with Alexia.  Alexia, you do not deserve the sexual attention of anybody except your dipshit husband. Leave the MacDougalls and LeFouxs for the more-deserving slutty, bisexual hate-readers okay.

Faps you realize you will never be able to have sex with a fictional character right?

Faps why would you want to bang a fictional character in a story you don’t even like?

I HAVE TO FIND SOMETHING TO ENJOY HERE OKAY!?

During some mild flirtation where Alexia first realizes women are hot, LeFoux explains that Maccon commissioned a gift that is ready for her.

It’s a huge ugly umbrella that takes a page to describe just its physical appearance, which was hard to follow.  My favorite detail is,

“The handle looked like something that might top an ancient Egyptian column, carved with lotus flowers---or a very enthusiastic pineapple.”

I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean but with that line I have decided that the handle of her umbrella looks like this:

(Picture of a pineapple dabbing, while wearing bright red shoes.)

And you cannot convince me otherwise.

We spend a few more pages explaining what her James Bond styled umbrella can do. Which includes:

Shoots poison darts.

Can switch between a silver and wooden tip depending on if you’re stabbing vampires or werewolves.

Can emit a magnetic field which can disrupt steam engines temporarily.

Can spray different kinds of toxic mists which can kill humans, and severely injure werewolves and vampires.  

Okay sure, she gets a proper weapon with a lot of weird uses. Sure good!

So now it’s time for me to complain about some writing choices!

Much to my annoyance, every time LeFoux smiles at all (which is a fucking lot) instead of using multiple verbs and descriptors such as, “She smiles, grins, smirks, beams, looks amused/smug/delighted/etc.” She says LeFoux ~dimples~ 100% of the time. And I’m like nobody verbs dimples that way you fucking weirdo who writes like they’re 12.

There’s also this really clumsy pointless exchange where it’s revealed that LeFoux has made special equipment for Prof. Lyall, and she remarks that he’s a curious man. Alexia says he’s not a man at all (cause he’s a werewolf) and LeFoux remarks, “I, too, am not a man. I simply enjoy dressing like one.”

….This is like super clumsy and not how humans talk at all. And there’s no reason why you need to bring that up AGAIN at all? We can tell she enjoys masculine dress because…she’s described as dressing masculine. Like….why? 

Like I know this isn’t meant to be a complex novel, but like I feel condescended to how often unimportant shit needs to be brought up again and again. UGH!

So they head back upstairs, Tunstell shows up so he and Ivy can stare longingly at each other, and OH YEAH tell Alexia Lyall wants to speak with her.

You gotta do more for me to ship Tunstell/Ivy then like show them cozy with one another and shouting in my ear about how they pine for one another.  Like maybe some dialog besides, “How are you?” “Oh I’m fine”?

So Alexia goes to see Lyall. She struts in swinging her new umbrella like HEY! HEY! ASK ABOUT MY NEW TOY!  Lyall does not.  Lyall has his issues don’t get me wrong.  But I find it so refreshing that he refuses to feed Maccon and Alexia’s shitty little egos.

Lyall says the humanization phenomenon has been ~spotted~ again and it’s moving toward Scotland, a bit ahead of Maccon, who is also heading that way.  Maccon doesn’t know he’ll be meeting the mysterious soul-sucking power soon, which could be a problem since he’s only useful in the sense that he has powers.

Alexia takes note of this, and decides she wants to have Lord Akeldama and LeFoux meet cause that would be cool I guess.  That’s where we leave off.  I’m not sure if the two are going to get along immediately upon meeting or hate each other’s guts. I hope they hate the other’s guts cause I think that would be more entertaining.

Say something nice Faps:

These chapters don’t always end and start on similar notes. So it doesn’t feel repetitive.

Lyall, while not totally free from this writing’s bullshit, helps ground this material by being a voice of sanity. A lot of authors can get caught up in HOW FUCKING COOL THEIR PERFECT FUN CHARACTERS ARE and it’s just kinda refreshing that this author has enough self-awareness to realize how exhausting and irritating their antics/personalities can sometimes be. Or in the very least enough awareness of writing to know when to slow it done and take a breather.

 LeFoux is hot.

Since I have identified her new murder parasol as having a dabbing pineapple handle, all mentions of it conjure hilarious mental images for me.  She was described as cradling it like a baby, and swinging it wildly in order for it to fail to catch Lyall’s attention.

 I also kinda like how despite getting a badass weapon crafted for her, it’s hideous.  Like perhaps it’s for the humor sake, but I appreciate we’re not just going to steamroll how cool and great Alexia is. Even though she got this super rad weapon with all these functions without having to earn it. The item does have the downside of being tacky and heavy. You know?

[sockablock]

(WELP I spent all day writing this, Campaign 1 Soulmate AU, where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your arm, I’m sorry in advance for any sadness or emotions, MAJOR C1 spoilers below, read on AO3, enjoy!)

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Their Last Words Are With Us

“They’re your soulmarks, dears,” their mother explained, kneeling by the side of the clear-running stream and running water over their tiny arms. “They’re special words that your soulmate will say to you, one day.”

“Soulmate?” Vax echoed as his sister inspected the faint scrawling on her arm. “What’s that?”

“Somebody very important to you,” Elaina said. “Someone who was meant to be by your side, always. As a friend, or as a wife or husband, who will always be there for you.”

“Like Vax?” Vex asked. “Is he mine?”

“Perhaps, dearest.”

“Who’s yours?” Vax asked. “Is it dad? Do you have his words?”

Elaina only hesitated slightly before smiling and saying, “It’s possible, dear. You never really know who the words belong to, until you do.”

Vax frowned slightly at that. “Huh?”

Vex held her arm out for her mother. “What do mine say, Mum?”

Elaina did not answer, instead grinned and poured water over both of the twins’ heads, distracting them and sending them into a fit of giggles and splashing.

Then she finished their baths, wrapped them up in the same old fabrics she always used, and led them back, one holding each hand, to their small home in Byroden.

-------------------------------------------

Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan learned many things as they grew older. They learned to mend holes in shirts and how to thread a seam that would not show. They learned to coax seeds into the earth and when to water the tomatoes and how to strip away the potato skins and the names of the farmers and hunters that kindly stopped by to bring meat and grains to their small family. They learned, through trial and error, to strike stones together until sparks flew and to sprinkle dry grass and small twigs over the logs in the stone-lined pit to keep the flames going. They learned the names of the birds that lingered in the trees and dotted the fields. They learned to catch fish, giggling madly and stomping through the river the whole time, from the patient, grey-haired man that lived a few homes down. They learned to watch the clouds for rain, to bundle close to each other when the snow came, to stay brave during thunder and to drink in the sunlight under a sky that always felt like home.

But they did not learn to read. In their small, dirt-dusted, seldom-travelled village, living with their mother in a simple, one-room shack, there was no need. And with no way to know what their soulmarks said, eventually the bright curiosity faded away into occasional cursory glances, with the firm knowledge that, wherever it may be, their soulmates were out there somewhere. They were loved, and meant to be loved. And for the twins, raven-haired children gleefully running barefoot through the grass, as their mother looked on, that was enough.

-------------------------------------------

“Elaina never gave you any schooling at all?”

Syldor—their father—stood behind the beautifully-carved desk in his office, all high-windows and plush carpeting, rich green curtains pulled aside to reveal a gorgeous view of the bustling streets of Syngorn below. Warm light flooded into the room, and the sun shone brightly, but the temperature was cold under his icy tone, laced with disgust and disappointment.

They wanted to go home.

“She taught us a lot of things,” started Vax, “like how to count and how to sing and when to plant the—”

Syldor held up a hand, and Vax went silent. “But no arithmetic, no history, no geography, no etiquette?”

“No, father,” said Vex.

“Do you know how to read?”

The twins exchanged glances.

“No, father,” Vex said again.

He rubbed his temples with his thumbs. “Then you’ll start with private tutors, until you’ve caught up to your peers. I can’t have you interacting with other children until you have. This is ridiculous.”

-------------------------------------------

“A Treatise on the Advancement of Elven Culture,” read Vex, clearly enunciating her syllables. “Written by Onvyr Zalim, Senior Scholar of the Lyceum, 549 P.D.”

“Good,” said her tutor, nodding his head. “Your father will be pleased to hear of your progress. Now, here is the copy in Elvish, I want you to have read through this one by tomorrow, and we shall compare the two for quality.”

-------------------------------------------

“You know what it says now, right?” Vax asked one night after sneaking down the hall to his sister’s room and climbing onto the bed with her. “You’ve looked at it now, right?”

She nodded her head. Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Want to trade?” Vax asked. “You can read mine if I can read yours.”

“You’re in mine, I think,” she grinned, rolling up her sleeve. “Look.”

Vax pulled his arm free as well and brought it closer to his sister.

Under the moonlight, the curls of text across pale skin almost seemed to glow.

Vex grinned. “Aw, Scrawny, that’s so sweet.”

Vax tapped his sister’s arm. “Yours is as well,” he said, “but is it weird that they mention me too?”

Vex shrugged. “I plan on you bring a big part of my life, brother. I don’t think that’s strange at all. Maybe in the future you’ll be friends with them.”

“I’d better be,” grinned Vax. “Otherwise you’ve got to change soulmates.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him out of the bed, and he lay on the floor giggling for some time before picking himself up.

“Good night, sister,” he smiled. “Don’t let the elves bite.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

-------------------------------------------

They were dining together tonight, Syldor seated at the head of the table and the twins at his left and right, across from one another. He was pleased at their academic progress, he said, even surprised at how quickly they were learning. They tried not to take offense at that, even when he added, with stomach-curdling self-satisfaction, that it must have been his blood finally showing itself in the twins.

After that, the table grew relatively silent, until Vex steeled herself and took a deep breath.

“Father,” she asked tentatively, “do you have a soulmark?”

He was silent for a moment. Then he gave a slight nod. “I do.”

“Could we know what it says?” she asked. “Is it…is it words our mother said to you?”

He sighed deeply. “I doubt it, Vex’ahlia. She never spoke elvish to me before. And, regardless, I would not know if they belonged to her until I died.”

Vax inhaled sharply, almost choking on his dinner. “What?” he asked. “What does that mean, father?”

Syldor put his fork down and gave both twins an incredulous look. “Did Elaina teach you nothing?”

They bristled at that comment, a common one in this household. Vax’s grip on his knife tightened.

Under the table, Vex kicked her brother and shook her head.

“No, father,” she said. “What is it?”

He met her curious gaze. “Soulmarks are words your fated will speak to you, you both know that, correct?”

They nodded.

“Do you know when those words will be spoken?”

-------------------------------------------

Vax collapsed onto the mattress next to his sister.

“It doesn’t have to mean that,” he said sternly. “Maybe they didn’t know it would be…it would be the end, and something happened on their way to see me.”

Vex sniffled, and wiped at the edges of her eyes. “I don’t think so, Vax. I’m…I think it does mean—”

He shook his head adamantly. “No way,” he said. “Not possible.”

Then he pressed his forehead to hers and said, “I promise, that’s not it. We’re going to get old and grey together, and we’ll always be the same age except I’m still gonna be two minutes older. That’s that, alright?”

Vex sniffed again, and tried for a smile. “Alright, brother. Alright.”

-------------------------------------------

After he left, she traced the scrawl on her arm with her finger.

I love you too, Vex’ahlia. I’ll tell your brother you said hello.

-------------------------------------------

One of the girls scoffed, her nose flaring and prim lips forming a smirk, and Vex instantly pulled her sleeve down.

“It’s not even in elvish,” the girl laughed, turning to the others. “I bet your soulmate isn’t even an elf.”

“They are,” Vex said defensively, cheeks coloring, “They are.”

“I bet he’s probably some stupid round-ear, from that dinky little town you grew up in,” giggled another. “I bet he’s poor and ugly.”

“Of course he’d be ugly,” said another, “if he’s a human.”

Vex fought for something to say. And when nothing came, she got up from the stone bench and ran to find her brother.

-------------------------------------------

“Humans’re better anyway,” said Vax loyally, hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Who’d want a stuffy, boring, dumb elf for a soulmate?”

They sat on one of the rooftops of the market district, watching people far below mill about under the colorful tent-tops and hanging flags and draped silks that adorned the streets. From this far up, they all looked like ants.

Vex nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I hate this stupid city. I wish I could get out and run away and we could find our soulmates together.”

“Maybe they’ll be half-elves like us,” Vax suggested. “Maybe they’ll hate their dads just as much.”

Vex smiled. “I don’t think anyone could hate their dad as much as we do.”

He laughed. “You’re right, Stubby. That’s a good point.” Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a carefully-wrapped square, that instantly filled the air with a warm, sweet smell.

“Look what I stole today,” he said. “Here, try some, I got it for us to share.”

-------------------------------------------

Vex came back from the forest with leaves in her hair, mud on her boots.

“I’ve found the perfect path,” she said excitedly. “Did you get the weapons?”

Vax stepped away from the bed, revealing a polished wooden bow and a set of daggers. “Teachers didn’t see a thing,” he grinned, then held up a small leather pouch, jingling softly. “And Syldor didn’t see me slip into that dumb office of his either.”

She stifled a laugh. “Great. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking place.”

He picked up a dagger. “You’re in charge now, Stubby,” he said. “I don’t remember shit about living in the woods.”

-------------------------------------------

Years passed. Vox Machina, formerly known as the S.H.I.T.S., sat around a campfire somewhere on the outskirts of Whitestone, just because they could. Tomorrow they would head back to Emon, after receiving news that Sovereign Uriel would be giving an important speech in the Cloudtop District for all to attend. But, for tonight, they were camping out in the northeastern woods, just because they could.

“Even though we have a perfectly good castle, just a few miles away,” Scanlan added as he plucked idly at his lute. “Even though Percy is the Lord of Whitestone, and we just finished freeing the town from subjugation and we’re huge heroes.”

“I needed time away from there for a bit,” Percy sighed, leaning against a log. “It was too much, all at once.”

“I was only there at the end,” agreed Pike, glowing slightly in her astral form, “but it seemed pretty intense.”

“I like sleeping outside,” Grog said. “Beds never fit me right.”

“If I could make a mansion,” Scanlan grinned, waving his hands around, “I’d make you the biggest room imaginable, with the biggest bed there was. Well, maybe second-biggest room, and second-biggest bed.”

“Thanks, Scanlan.”

Keyleth idly let flames curl around her fingers, and every once in a while, would flick a spark towards the campfire. “It’s nice not having to go anywhere and do anything,” she said cheerfully. “And it’s always good to be in nature.”

Vax nodded. He was giving her small, sideways glances that Vex, perceptive as ever, absolutely noticed. A bit of inspiration hit her.

“Hey,” she said, “we’ve all known each other for a while, right?”

They all exchanged looks.

“Yes?” Scanlan agreed. “That’s true.”

She grinned enthusiastically. “So, you know what would be fun? Why don’t we all tell each other what our soulmarks say? Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

“Er…why?” Vax asked. “Why would we do that?”

Vex rolled her eyes. “We’re like a family now! And it would a good way to learn more about each other! Of course, we don’t have to if we don’t want to.”

Keyleth shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Vex. Those…those are the last words your soulmate will say to you. Isn’t…isn’t that kind of personal?”

Pike nodded, and now Scanlan’s eyes turned to her.

Vex’s shoulders sagged. “Alright,” she sighed. “It was just a suggestion. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Percy quickly. “Perhaps some other time? We’re all a bit worn out from the whole…rebellion, and all.” And then, with a small spark of hope at the edge of his tone, he added, “But really. Some…some other time might be nice.”

“I don’t know what mine says,” shrugged Grog from his spot on the log next to Pike. “Can’t read.”

There was a brief silence, as they digested that. Both Vex and Vax felt an odd ping of kinship.

“Do you want someone to read it for you?” Keyleth asked. “Is it in Common?”

He shook his head. “Nope, ‘s in Giant.”

Pike smiled and gave him a pat on the arm. “I’ve asked before too,” she said. “He’d rather not know.”

“Goliaths don’t really care about that sort of thing,” he said. “As long as you’ve got your herd or…or your family, or whatever, it doesn’t matter. You need more than one person in your life, right? There’s always gonna be a lotta people important to you, right? So who cares if one of them is there ‘cause of fate, and destiny and stuff. Sure, they’re special, or whatever, but they’re not the only ones.”

Another moment of silence.

“Well,” said Scanlan, leaning over and giving Grog a pat on the knee, “again, somehow, you’ve proved you’re the wisest of us all, and I’m not even sure you realize why.”

The hulking barbarian grinned back at him. “It’s m’ charm,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m just amazing.”

-------------------------------------------

A few hours later, the girls sat together on the ground in Vex’s tent.

“I just really didn’t want to do it with the guys around,” Keyleth said sheepishly. “But I want to show you two. If…if you both want to also.”

“I do,” said Pike. “Definitely.”

“Same here,” grinned Vex. “Ready?”

They both nodded, and as one, all three pulled their sleeves up and brought their arms together.

There was a pause, as they all read one another’s marks.

Pike spoke first. “That’s…very sweet, Vex.” She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Have you shown it to your brother before?”

She nodded. “But don’t worry,” she added quickly, “it’s not anything to worry about. We made a promise to one another, you know? We’ll be together always.”

Keyleth gave her painfully optimistic pat on the shoulder. “Of course,” she agreed. “And besides, we’ve got the best cleric in the world. She’ll always heal us.”

Pike’s smile grew cheeky, and she stuck her thumb out. “Definitely,” she said.

Vex grinned, and looked back at the writing on Pike’s arm. “Well, at least we know one thing, now.”

“Oh?” Keyleth asked.

“Yes! We know that Pike’s soulmate definitely isn’t Scanlan. If it was, darling, you’d have a novella on your arm. Not just a sentence.”

Pike laughed. “That’s a good point,” she said. “It’d probably cover my whole body, if it were him.”

-------------------------------------------

“Our lives are fucking awful,” Vax sighed as his fingers worked through his sister’s hair. On the ground next to them rested three bright blue feathers.

“At least we are alive,” Vex pointed out. “Unlike…unlike a lot of people back h—in Emon.”

“I was starting to think of it as home too,” he said softly. “It’s…it’s been a long time since we’ve had somewhere to call home. And now it’s gone.”

Vex bit her lip. She could feel her brother beginning to sink, and she quickly reached a hand back, and wiggled her fingers. He paused in his braiding, and took it.

“I love you, brother,” she said, staring forwards. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

A small smile crept across his face. “I love you too, sis. I’m glad you’re here too.”

“This time it’s different. We have each other, and Vox Machina.”

“That’s true,” he said.

“And you’ve got Keyleth, now, don’t you?”

His grip loosened slightly. “I…I’m not sure if I do. She says…she says she loves me, but she’s worried about getting attached. She’s going through a lot right now, and there’s still her Aramente, and now the world is falling apart around us.”

“But she still loves you, right?”

“Well, yes—”

“Are you going to wait for her?”

“Well…yes.”

Vex squeezed his hand. “I’ll be here while you do then,” she said. “And once she sorts herself out and realizes she needs you, I’ll still be here.”

He squeezed back. “Alright,” he said. “Alright.”

She let go, and then grinned and said, “Come now, get back to work. My hair isn’t going to look amazing by itself.”

He laughed, and pulled gently on the braid. “You’re lucky you’re related to me,” he quipped. “Otherwise I’d never help someone as bossy as you.”

-------------------------------------------

“It’s called the Deathwalker’s Ward,” said Vex, pointing to the spot in her journal where she’d written it down. “It’s in some kind of swampy, lake area, near Vasselheim.”

“Great,” sighed Scanlan. “More camping.”

-------------------------------------------

“What happened? I was only down there for thirty seconds—”

“There, there was a trap, the armor was trapped—”

“The healing potion isn’t working, it’s not working—”

“Kashaw, can you do anything—”

“Fuck, fuck, I…”

“Percival, what happened—”

“Kashaw—”

“I-I can bring her back. I can raise the dead.”

-------------------------------------------

Later that night, Percy gazed at the words curling down his arm and thought back to the last thing Vex had said before…before.

She had smiled, radiant despite the gloom and darkness of the underwater tomb. She had been chuckling, not unkindly, at the sight of a surly, halfling woman clambering out from one of the pits.

All good, Kima!

He traced a finger over his skin. Did this mean she wasn’t his soulmate? Or did the words know she wouldn’t have been dead for long? He sighed, and shook his head. He needed to do more research on this.

-------------------------------------------

"I really am sorry, Shaun."

Gilmore gave him a sad smile. "I know you are, Vax'ildan. I am too."

"You are a beautiful, wonderful, hilarious, glorious arcane bastard. You'll find your soulmate, and he will be the most fortunate man in the world."

"Thank you, Vax. I must say, your soulmate is a rather lucky individual as well."

He pulled Gilmore into a hug. "Not as lucky as yours," he assured. "Nowhere near as lucky."

-------------------------------------------

“Percy, have you got any more of those exploding arrows for me?”

“Of course, Lady Vex’ahlia. I always have a supply on hand for my favorite Baroness.”

She grinned. “You flatter me. Am I your favorite only because we killed the rest of Whitestone’s nobility?”

“Well, technically, I suppose. But even if we hadn’t, you’d still be my favorite.”

-------------------------------------------

Vax put his hands in his head and sighed. Next to him, sitting on the bed, Keyleth watched the turmoil storming behind his eyes.

“I know,” he began, “I know with all that’s happened, between my new patron and my sister pretending to gag literally every time we attempt to share a word together, and mostly my own being fucked up in the head for weeks now, that I’ve pushed all of you away. You most of all.”

Then he turned, and met her gaze. There were tears at the corners of his eyes.

“You didn’t deserve any of that. Keyleth, I need you to know, through all of that, everything, nothing has changed about how I…” He trailed off, but then forced himself to continue. “We’ve had so many near-misses. Death is unavoidable. And it’s all the more reason for life to be lived. And it doesn’t matter to me what this is. What we call it. If you are willing to spend some time, any time, with me, then I will simply count myself lucky to have it.”

Keyleth reached over, and took his hand, never breaking eye contact. “It’s…it’s not like I’ve made myself very accessible either,” she admitted. “It’s on both of us. For…for the longest time, I was terrified that I was going to lose you. First to death, and then to the Raven Queen—which is still kind of like death—and then ultimately to yourself.”

Then she took his other hand, and squeezed them both gently. There was a smile creeping across her face. “And then…and then recently, I had an interesting talk with Pike,” Keyleth said, “and she told me something that really stood out to me. It was that some people…just have more of themselves to give. And I realized this whole time that I was afraid of losing you to a future that ultimately has not yet been written, which is stupid.”

“Maybe so,” Vax began softly, but Keyleth shook her head.

“Ultimately, you’re right.” she said firmly. “We have nothing to lose. I love you, Vax. And I’m sorry for being me, that it took me this long to say it.”

Vax sniffled. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Keyleth laughed. There were tears in her eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I love you, though. That’s pretty fucking great.”

She lifted a hand up, still laughing. “That is pretty great, yeah! High five! Yeah!”

And Vax gave her a high five, and then tackled her onto the mattress, now both of them laughing like idiots and grinning madly and giggling every time they accidentally bumped into one another, or clumsily hit elbows together.

And later, that morning, as the light filtered in through their window, they traced the markings on each other’s forearms and smiled.

“I love you, Keyleth of the Air Ashari,” read Vax, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She smiled softly, and tapped his arm. “I love you, Vax’ildan. I’ll…” and her voice broke slightly, but she shook her head and continued, “…I’ll see you again.”

-------------------------------------------

“Oh, I love being this high up in the air!”

Vex leaned over the railing of the airship they had chartered, now soaring above the vast expanse of gleaming, deep-blue water far below, the rippling and sparkling surface of the Ozmit Sea.

Percy, standing next to her, smiled. “Is it better than a broom?” he asked.

She turned to face him, and her braid flew behind her in the wind. She glowed in the warm sunlight.

“It is, darling,” she laughed. “I love my broom, but it’s much better.”

Percy nodded, and turned back to look over the railing at the clouds beyond. “I’m going to install an airship port in Whitestone,” he said.

-------------------------------------------

Glintshore came and went, and in the smoking aftermath of the battle—shrapnel scattered across the scorched crater and corpses dotting the landscape and Kynan shaking on the ground and Ripley’s eviscerated flesh painting the dirt crimson—Vox Machina gathered around the limp form of Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III, bullet wounds no longer bleeding, breath gone from his chest.

Vax and Pike were the closest, the Champion of Death and the Cleric of Sarenrae carefully examining his body for any possible signs of life, and mulling over the next course of action. Vex and Keyleth watched on, and Scanlan and Grog romped through the background, making sure the hired mercenaries were finished, and giving the rest room to work and to grieve.

Then Vax turned around, and gently asked his sister, “Vex’ahlia, what were your last words to him?”

She blinked, tears still streaming down her face. “I don’t, I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

He tried again. “Did you tell him that you’ll miss him?”

She frowned, confusion beginning to creep in. “No? I, no, I never said that.”

He nodded, and now his expression was firm. “Percy’s not dead for good,” he said adamantly. “Not for good. We’ll be able to bring him back.”

“What makes you—” Scanlan began.

And then realization hit. They all stood in silence for a moment.

“You read it,” breathed Keyleth, and Vax nodded.

“You don’t know for sure,” Vex whispered. “You don’t know for sure.”

“I don’t,” Vax agreed, “but I’m pretty damn certain.”

“Let’s get him into the mansion,” Pike said softly. “We can rest, and get our spells back, and we’ll do the ritual tomorrow.”

-------------------------------------------

“I should have told you. It’s yours.”

-------------------------------------------

“Percival, would you like to see my soulmark?”

Percy blinked a few times, and turned around to face her. Vex’s skin was pale in the moonlight, her eyes anxious but hopeful. He reached for the beside table and pulled his glasses over, and they both shifted into an upright position.

“Do…do you truly wish to show me?” he asked.

She nodded. “I…I think it might belong to you. I want you to.”

He smiled faintly. “You know, I’ve always hoped mine belonged to you as well. Would you…?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “I would.”

They pressed their arms together, words towards the sky.

“I love you, darling,” read Vex softly. “I’ll miss you.”

Percy traced the text on her arm with a gentle finger. “I love you too, Vex’ahlia,” he read. “I’ll…oh. I’ll tell your brother you said hello.”

He met her gaze. “Vex,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “No, no, darling. Believe me, we’ve talked about it plenty before, but no. If anything, you should watch yourself any time you go off to visit him alone, understood?”

He laughed quietly. “Alright, alright. Of course.”

She smiled, and leaned in for a kiss. Their eyes were closed, so neither of them could see the worry written across Percy’s face, or the desperate denial on Vex’s.

-------------------------------------------

“He really is gone,” Pike sighed, looking down at the ground.

Vex put an arm across her shoulder. “He…I know Scanlan will be back,” she said. “I think he just needs time alone.”

“I…I was just starting to think…”

The little gnome shook her head. “Nevermind,” she said. “Never…nevermind.”

-------------------------------------------

“Oh, no,” said Taryon, waving his mug jovially and shaking his head. “No, I’m not doing that again.”

“Alright,” said Grog with a careless shrug. “Alright, fine. That means more ladies for me. You want me to find you a guy, or something?”

Taryon considered this proposal. Then he looked up at the large mountain of a man, eyebrow raised and tattoos dark against his grey skin.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Tary asked.

Grog’s other eyebrow went up. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

Tary sighed, and shook his head again. “Nevermind,” he said. “Just…just go have fun for the both of us, how about that?”

Grog grinned. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ I could do.”

-------------------------------------------

“Zephra is beautiful in the autumn,” smiled Vax as he watched Keyleth’s hair blow in the breeze. She was standing in a clearing, leaves tumbling around her. “I can’t wait to spend the next hundred autumns here with you.”

She reached out with a hand to where he was sitting in the grass, and pulled him up to join her. “More than a hundred,” she said firmly. “Half-elves live a long time, and we’re retired now, right?”

He laughed, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Sure, Kiki. Right now, we’re retired.”

-------------------------------------------

"Do any of us actually know how to run a bakery?"

"Didn't you say it's all about getting experience?" Taryon asked. "It's like a new adventure! One that we will all be inexperienced in, at the beginning."

"I can sort of bake," said Pike. "Sort of."

"Most of us, then," Taryon corrected. "Do we have a name, yet?"

-------------------------------------------

“And do you, Vex’ahlia Vessar, take this man to be your husband?”

In the silence of night, with only quiet chirping of crickets and the rustling of the wind through the leaves of the Sun Tree, Keeper Yennen’s voice sang strong and bright.

Vex’ahlia’s heart soared.

“I do.”

-------------------------------------------

One day, a tall, dark-skinned man from Ank’harel came to visit with a lanky, half-orc bard-barian in tow.

Their retirement ended.

-------------------------------------------

There was a knock, so Scanlan fastened his silk, royal-purple robe, put on his most charming smile, and with a flick of his wrist, the door to his room swung open, to reveal Pike.

A million lines, ranging from I don’t remember asking for an angel, to why, isn’t this a pleasant surprise, to oh, I see Ioun has answered my prayers after all, to aren’t I a lucky gnome tonight?

He managed to hold all of them back and instead gave her a small grin. “Hi, Pike. What’s up?”

She closed the door behind her, and took a step forwards.

“Hey, Scanlan. I was wondering if I could ask you a question.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well, don’t be a stranger, come and sit down, ask away.” He motioned towards the velvet couch by his fireplace, and they both took a seat.

“Scanlan, what does your soulmark say?”

He balked. This wasn’t exactly unfamiliar territory, since soulmates was a rather rich vein for pickup lines and for hitting on people in bars. But this—seated before a warm fire with Pike sitting not too close, but also not too far away—was nothing he could ever anticipated.

“Uh…well…why do you want to know?”

“I was just wondering,” Pike said with suspiciously carefree nonchalance. “If you don’t want to show me, I totally get it—”

He pulled down the sleeve of his robe, and her eyes instantly trained in on the words.

“It’s gnomish,” she said, slightly surprised.

He shrugged, and gave her a grin. “I’d like to think it’s honoring my humble roots,” he said.

“Can…can I read it out loud?”

“Of course.”

“Stop it, Scanlan. Take all the time you need.”

She bit her lip, and traced the words slowly. It sent a strange tingling up Scanlan’s arm.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he asked, defaulting in the face of uncertainty to what he knew best: talking. “I mean, I’ve always wondered what I might have said to the other person to get them to respond with that, or what they mean with take all the time you need, but you can never be sure, right? Anyways, I think it’s the universe’s personal laugh that I’ve also got Stop it, Scanlan written on my arm, you’ve got to admit that’s pretty funny…”

He trailed off as Pike stood up.

“Thanks, Scanlan,” she said, slightly strained. “I…I appreciate you showing it to me. I’m going to bed now.”

She started walking out of the room.

“Wait, Pikey, is everything alright? Are…are you alright?”

She turned, just before the door, and gave him a smile. “I’m okay,” she said lightly. "Don’t worry, Scanlan, I’m okay.”

She closed the door behind her, and Scanlan was left staring at the elegant woodwork in the silence. He turned back around, and lay down on the couch. Eventually, tracing his arm where Pike’s finger had been and wondering idly what she had been thinking, he fell asleep next to the crackling fire.

-------------------------------------------

“Are you all ready to go?” Percy asked. “I…I’m not sure what we’ll find on the other end, or how we’ll be getting back.”

“I’m ready,” said Grog. “I wanna go kill those creepy culty fucks.”

Vax grinned. “I agree with the big man,” he said. “They’ve got it coming.”

“Ready,” said Keyleth, gripping the Spire in her hands.

“As I’ll ever be,” said Scanlan, shooting a wink that Pike and Grog, recently apologized to, grinned at.

“Let’s go, darling,” said Vex. “It’s time.”

-------------------------------------------

Vax was dead.

And then he wasn’t.

-------------------------------------------

“I can’t help but hate her,” Keyleth shook her head, face buried in Vax’s chest as they lay together on the bed of their room in Scanlan’s Magnificent Mansion.

“I know,” Vax sighed. “I know.”

“It’s just…It’s just not fair. It’s not fair. You’re my soulmate, Vax. We were only going to have a hundred years together. And now…and now…”

“I know,” he said again, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate her,” sobbed Keyleth. “I hate her.”

-------------------------------------------

In the other room, down the hall, Vex rubbed at her eyes.

“He’s my brother,” she said.

“Yes,” Percy said back.

“He…if we’re successful, he won’t live past this year.”

“Yes.”

“And if we aren’t, the world will end.”

“Yes.”

“I want to world to end,” she whispered. “I don’t want to live in a world without him.”

Percy put a hand on her back, and when she began to cry, he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Vex. I’m sorry.”

“It was right there,” she breathed between sobs, wanting to choke on her own words. “It was right there, in my stupid soulmark. It was right there, all along. He was going to die first. And then…and then you would, and you would see him for me.”

Percy nodded. His own body was starting to shake as well.

“We knew that I wouldn’t live as long as you,” he tried. “I’m human.”

“I know,” she said, “I know. But I wish you weren’t. And I wish Vax wasn’t going to die either.”

-------------------------------------------

“And…And I’m going to miss you. I’ll be gone soon. I don’t even know if we have time. A lot of us could be dead soon, but I’m not offering you this thing, but I’m offering you an experience.”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t know a lot of big words, but I feel like I need a little bit of clar-if-ication.”

“I don’t know if we have time for this, but maybe, for old time’s sake, because I love you and I know you love me and we share this in common—”

“—yep, definitely—”

“—I thought maybe we could prank Scanlan together.”

-------------------------------------------

The day came. And from somewhere within the dark city of Thar Amphala, lurching from the movement of the terrible, enormous body that carried it, they all linked hands and closed their eyes and nodded.

And then they began to climb.

-------------------------------------------

Scanlan, the tiny gnome bard perched up, thousands and thousands of feet in the air, held aloft by nothing but the shimmering, translucent purple form of Bigby’s Hand, made of pure arcana and here by his own force of will, looked up at Vecna, the Ascended as the sickly green swirl of a teleportation spell began to creep around the emaciated, bloodied avatar of the new god.

Scanlan raised a finger, eyes dark and cold. 

“This was going to save Vax,” he said, and fired off a Counterspell that, for once, was not driven by song or dance or laughter—just the enraged sorrow of a bard who had, long ago, buried his mother, nearly just lost his daughter, and soon, all too soon, would lose one of his best friends.

It connected. There was no question there.

And then, finally, Keyleth was handed the tome.

-------------------------------------------

In the distance, the impossibly gargantuan skeleton of the massive titan loomed over the city of Vassalheim, as cheering and shouts of surprised delight burst over the night sky like fireworks. Lanterns were beginning to bloom along the city skyline, and people were coming out of their homes and armies were lowering their weapons as now the news spread like wildfire that finally, finally, the Undying King had fallen.

But Vox Machina were not celebrating.

Vax pressed his forehead to his sister’s and put his hands on her face. Behind him, the silent form of the Raven Queen watched on, unimaginably distant and terrifyingly close, all at the same time.

“I never had a greater friend than you,” he said softly. “And we traveled a lot, but I never had a greater friend than you.”

Vex shook her head, tears hitting the grass below them. “I feel like she’s taking part of me away,” she breathed, a wracking, shaking sob.

He stroked her cheek. “I will bring it with me to remind me of you.”

“I don’t know how to live.”

“I will see you again.”

“I know.”

“I will see you again. And I will tell your mother that you say hello.”

She laughed, a short a humorless laugh. “Please.” and then she sobbed again and said, “I love you. I don’t accept this.”

He nodded. “I know that it’s hard. And I am sorry.”

“I’m going to find you.”

He wrapped her into a hug. And then, after a moment, after one final hand on her back and kiss to her forehead, he pulled away and turned to Keyleth.

The druid walked up to him, and threw her arms around his neck, tears streaming down her face. He pressed his lips to hers, and afterwards whispered, “I’m sorry it’s so cold.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t accept this. I love you.”

He smiled. “I will never stop loving you.”

“This isn’t fair,” she said.

“I know.”

She looked him in the eye, and her heart broke all over again. “I guess…I guess we have to say goodbye.”

He took her hands, just as she had, all those nights ago, and squeezed them gently. “For now,” he agreed. “I love you, Keyleth of the Air Ashari.”

She stole one final kiss, and murmured back, “I love you, Vax'ildan. I’ll see you again.”

After what felt like the lifetime they would not have, he pulled away, and took a breath he did not need, and began to walk towards the dark cloak of the Raven Queen. With each step, tiny flowers began curling around his feet, small white petals blooming against the dark green grass where they stood, until a carpet of snowdrops trailed back from Vax’s pale form to the rest of his family. He turned to face them.

“S.H.I.T.S.!” he called, voice wavering but firm and strong. “How lucky I have been to have had all of you. How lucky, indeed. Thank you.”

Then he strode into the embrace of his mother, and his patron.

And then, it was just feathers.

-------------------------------------------

Years passed. Keyleth of the Air Ashari watched alongside Percy and Vex in the shade, as three dark-haired and two white-haired children chased each other through the grass and around the gardens.

“Julius looks just like him,” said the druid with a sad smile. “But you said Jonathan’s the one who talks to birds?”

“Yes,” said Vex, “and he thinks you’re very cool, so I think you should go and talk to him later.”

“I might just do that,” Keyleth nodded. “Maybe he might want to come visit Zephra, one of these days.”

“Take Olivia also,” said Percy. “We think her magic is arcane, but it might do her some good. Besides, she’s his twin, and they don’t like being separated.”

“I can see how that might work,” said Keyleth. Then she looked at Percy and Vex and asked, “Say, did Pike and Scanlan set a date yet? I know gnomes don’t really operate on the same timeline as everyone else, believe me, I know, but have they said anything yet?”

“No,” said Percy, “I don’t think so. But knowing how quickly they fell all over each other, after everything that happened, I’m sure it’ll be soon.”

-------------------------------------------

“Scanlan?” Pike asked, from their spot in bed.

“Yes, Pikey?”

“Remember when you showed me your soulmark, and you mentioned something about wondering why it said what it did?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Pike rolled her sleeve up, and held her arm out to Scanlan.

“It’s in gnomish,” he said, slightly surprised.

“It’s my humble roots,” she grinned. “Go on, read it.”

“I won’t make…” Scanlan faltered, but with a gentle nudge he tried again. “I won’t make you wait long, Pikey.”

“Stop it, Scanlan,” Pike recited. “Take all the time you need.”

Their eyes met.

“So…you think…?”

“I’m pretty sure I know,” said Pike, and grinned. “You forest gnomes live a long time.”

“Are…are you alright with—”

“I am,” said Pike. “I really, truly am.”

“Oh, good,” said Scanlan, and he smiled as well when she leaned in for a kiss.

-------------------------------------------

“Mama, what do these marks mean?” asked Percival IV, holding his arm up for his mother to see.

“That’s called a soulmark, darling. It’s words your soulmate will speak to you, one day.”

“How will I know who my soulmate is?”

“You just do, when the time comes. I know that sounds confusing, but trust me, alright? When you meet the right person, you’ll know.”

“Did you meet the right person, Mama?”

“I did, darling. And guess who that person was?”

“Who?”

“Your father,” and here, she bopped her son on the nose and he started to giggle.

“But, you know, these marks don’t always mean you have to spend time with only your soulmate. When your mama traveled around with Vox Machina, well, it almost felt like all of them were my soulmates.”

Her son considered this. “Like when I’m with Elaina and Julius and Olivia and Jonathan and Trinket and Dad and Auntie Keyleth and Uncle Grog and Auntie Pike and Uncle Scanlan and—”

She grinned, and bopped him again. “Yes, darling, just like that.”

-------------------------------------------

The wedding was small, and Grog carried Scanlan down the aisle on his shoulders as Kaylie played a bridal march on her fiddle, and Great-uncle Wilhand, arthritic and nearly bald, officiated.

There were two flower girls and one ring bear, that carried the three ring-bearers on his back.

-------------------------------------------

“Keyleth?”

They were seated beneath the Sun Tree, watching the clouds roll by over Whitestone, below.

“Yes, Vex?”

“Do…do you think you’ll ever find someone else?”

There was a pause.

“I…I’m not sure,” she said. “Maybe. It’s…it’s still too new. But I know he would want me to move on.”

“You have all the time in the world, darling.”

She laughed. “Oh, I know.”

“I know there’s a lot to be said about soulmates, but still. We’re not soulmates, and I still feel connected to you. To everyone in Vox Machina.”

Keyleth nodded. “I know what you mean,” she said with a small smile. “I think…I think it’s always nice to know who your soulmate is, but it’s also nice to just…to just spend time with other people.”

“Yes,” said Vex, poking Keyleth in the arm. “It is.”

-------------------------------------------

Nobody knows the reason why, or how, or who is behind the curling lines of text that appear on the skin of every newborn child across the planes. Perhaps it’s the work of sentimental deities, brushing their fingers against the arms of their creations to let them know that no matter what, in this chaotic, unpredictable, dangerous world, they will never be alone. Perhaps it’s the gods of love, helping mortals find the ones with whom they will share every full, deep breath of air and every beat of their hearts. Perhaps it’s the work of trickster gods, playing their jokes on those who will never know who their other half is, until the end. Or, perhaps, it’s the work of the Raven Queen herself, Weaver of Fates, Matron of Death, leaving her mark on creation and urging all to find their fated and enjoy the time they have together, before the inevitable.

Nobody really knows.

But maybe, as a wise goliath once said around a campfire in the woods outside Whitestone, under the night sky with his friends at his side, “who cares?” In the end, you stick with the people you love, all the people you love, and perhaps, maybe then, it won’t matter what fate tried to tell you. You’ll have found the ones you wanted, and you’ll have been with the ones you needed, all along.

And that? That is more than enough.

-------------------------------------------

This was a place, almost a hundred years later, where the sun was bright, and the grass seemed to glow, and the skies always felt like home.

“Your sister says hello.”

There was a laugh, and a smile, and a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I know, Freddie. I know.”

[chemicalfuckboys]

If MCR Songs Were People

This probably already exists but I spent two hours doing this instead of sleeping. Tell me which song you’re most like.

Welcome to the Black Parade: has a flair for the dramatic, doesn't know how to do a smoky eye, was in the marching band in high school, daddy issues. Sleep: has insomnia, PTSD, nightmares, is self deprecating, just wants to go the fuck to sleep Destroya: probably gay, moans like a bitch during sex, pretty fucking hardcore, shit immune system though, lives for anarchy House of Wolves: will burn in hell (or believes they will), is a bad mother fucker, has a sister who should be scared, pyromaniac, "Catholic" Vampire Money: all over the place, drinks a lot but parties like a beast, has a Bowie obsession, likes driving fast and loud music Na Na Na: really artistic, pansexual, likes to scream lyrics, rebel at heart, probably still wears bandanas, sunglasses and boots all day every  day, fuck the government Cancer: is dying, will die, all of your friends will die, actually doesn't have any friends, really depressed, in pain, martyr S.I.N.G: activist, owns jeggins, would join an underground gang if they had the balls, likes neon things for some unknown reason Early Sunsets Over Monroeville: loves zombies, probably owns a Hawaiian   shirt, really quiet and doesn't talk much, hangs out in shopping centres/malls but never buys anything Demolition Lovers: is probably part of an underground gang, has to go away for "work" a lot, has a shotgun in the trunk of their car, teal,  unrequited love Helena: recent death in the family, super fucking dramatic, lots of makeup, always wears black (maybe some red), nail polish is always chipped, imagines/fantasises things that will never happen all the time Teenagers: super punk, goes to concerts all the time, will break shit just for fun, has authority issues, probably friends with a lot of delinquents, is a delinquent, doesn't read books, drinks a lot Famous Last Words: is constantly having an existential crisis, really   committed when it comes to relationships, cowboy boots, goes outside at midnight for no reason I Don't Love You: always heartbroken, never cuts hair, plays guitar,  goes on road trips when things get difficult, super emotional, cries a lot I'm Not Okay: is still in high school, I don't care if they're 39  they're still in high school, hates high school, does stupid shit all  the time because fuck it, high school, is not okay, is friends with  weird people, high school Mama: PTSD, self deprecating, mama's boy/girl/person, has a sick sense of humour, laughs manically for no reason, cutthroat You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison: probably gay, went to prison, had a fuck tonne of bitches (I'm kidding, they were actually the  bitch to a fuck tonne of other people), can't adjust, has issues with  family Headfirst for Halos: epic, is not okay, always trying to think  positively but is screaming inside, thinks about doing stupid shit all  the time (i.e. Putting a gun to their head) Vampires Will Never Hurt You: screams a lot, has a vampire fettish, hates Twilight with a passion, has never gone outside, wouldn't mind dying if I was a wooden stake to the heart, sucks dick The Ghost of You: fought in WWII, had a pretty girlfriend, wears round glasses with gold rims, is tall and lanky, has a brother, gets shot in  the chest, screams, dies The Light Behind Your Eyes: is finding ways to deal with severe depression, cries a bit but quietly, reads a lot of books, all their friends are dead, trying to stay strong despite the fact they're dying inside, sings like an angel Give 'em Hell Kid: lives life fast, probably has killed someone, wears red and like khaki green, shouts a lot, belongs in a 2005 MTV short, lives life on the edge, fatalistic To The End: has read Dante's Inferno, is a mafioso, fatalistic, has  probably organised the death of many people, likes to drink cyanide, sleeps a lot, owns diamond jewellery, likes cake The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You: has no faith in life, likes western movies, will yell at you, has  applied for a license to kill, likes to sleep with people (like nap I  mean) Thank You For The Venom: likes snakes, has probably almost OD'd, hates  the doctors, is stubborn, death obsessed, has probably stabbed someone, wears striped long sleeve t-shirts, hates running, hopes to be shot one day Hang 'Em High: is death obsessed, clinically insane, screams a lot,  always makes a lot of aesthetic statements about things with black and  white connotations, Catholic, fuck off It's Not a Fashion Statement It's a Fucking Death Wish: swears in front  of their parents, wears their mum's clothes, is obsessed with killing  enemies, is always predicting their death to be soon. Cemetery Drive: all too real, has a girlfriend, likes to hang out in  cemeteries, girlfriend has issues and ended her life, now has issues  because of it, drinks a lot, really fucking depressed I Never Told You What I Do For A Living: is 100% a serial killer, sociopath, also has OCD, scary as shit The End: is dying, but isn't too sad, wishes to attend their own funeral  as a ghost, has no self confidence, can't be fucking bothered growing  up, doesn't give a shit, is very chill, wears yellow accessories Dead!: Is dead, is having a party about being dead, wondering if all the  assholes in their life are in hell, no one actually likes them, laughs  at inappropriate moments, is a great dancer This Is How I Disappear: really fucking dramatic, will be upset and   disappear if you break up with them, dramatic, is a part time satanist, will make a voodoo doll of you if you fuck with them, candles The Sharpest Lives: goes out late at night, never showers, drinks   heavily, would probably go cannibal if it was legal, always in pain,   lives life on the fucking edge, will burn large objects, has sinus   issues Disenchanted: is constantly torn, never actually cries, writes books,  likes to take chances, likes birds, got in trouble with the police for  some stupid but really fun shit, friends need to get their shit together  and learn a lesson Bulletproof Heart: Gravity doesn't mean to much to them, has self  confidence but not enough to stop running away, runs away a lot, wears  really funky colourful clothing, is very kind but misunderstood Planetary GO!: goes to a lot of cool night clubs, knows how to fucking  party, is still very punk on the inside, sweats a lot (bc they dance a  lot), jumps up and down for no fucking reason The Only Hope For Me Is You: is obsessed with being remembered, only has  one friend, is kinda depressed and really needs someone to hold onto,  but is also really questioning life and society, wants to run away to a  more aesthetic place Party Poison: speaks fluent Japanese (cough I mean Weeaboo), watches a  lot of anime, loves Kpop and Jpop fashion, will party but goes to the  weirdest parties, dyes their hair, fuck the bullshit meaning of life  they do what they want Save Yourself I'll Hold Them Back: is a badass, known for being a  badass, stole your mum's car and took you on the best date ever, wears a  lot of leather, ready for a fight, probably gets into a lot of fights  anyway, probably once looked like Danny from Greece SCARECROW: is probably on LSD, smokes a lot of weed, is really chill,  too fucking chill, wears psychedelic t-shirts, is actually a  philosophical genius, reads a lot of poetry Summertime: they might go outside if it's summer, listens to music with  headphones on full blast, goes on the train a lot, likes to walk around  listening to music and pretends they're making the aesthetic parts of  the music video they're listening to, soft kitty The Kids From Yesterday: is constantly nostalgic, loves Star Wars and  Queen, always having flashbacks, wears yellow and read things, feels  misunderstood, trying to figure out the meaning of life Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us: likes Fall Out  Boy when they had long song titles, has issues, a lot of issues, ugly  screams a lot, doesn't care, wears dark denim jackets, hates this girl  who fucked their brother Drowning Lessons: has a lot of anxiety, constantly worried, always  running away from problems and situations, can't swim, always has  regrets, has pink things Our Lady Of Sorrows: was in a gang once, loves to get into switchblade fights, is really scary and bloodthirsty, believes in pagan gods, but   will protect you, blood blood blood. Skylines and Turnstiles: saw 9/11 happen, life was changed because of  it, decided that they wanted to be in a band, made a band with brother  and his fren, got some dreadlocked weed smoking fanboy to join, the  drummer is an asshole x3, breaks up after 12 years, deems it to be a  good idea, scared of butane This Is The Best Day Ever: this is the worst day ever, has no rhythm, is  really confused with what is going in, went to hospital a lot and hated  it, screams a bit, is a bit scared of needles, studded belts, suck dick Cubicles: will die alone (or at least they think), hates their job, the  only thing that entertains them at work is people gossiping at the water  cooler, is actually having a severe existential crisis Boy Division: is friends with people who would have a fucking rocking  funeral, stalks school girls, looks dead but only dresses that way,  likes to sing about California, paranoid all the time Tomorrow's Money: fell in love with a vampire, slightly aggressive, can  surf, stopped screaming three years ago, wants to be a doctor, hates   people who are thought of as heroes, ruined converses AMBULANCE: screams in an aesthetically pleasing way, thinks you know  nothing, super weird, goes out after dark, likes to drive big cars,  wouldn't mind driving, is super reliable even when they let you down Gun.: was probably conscripted into the military, actually hates   violence and guns, wants to stay at home all the time, likes to call the  shots, owns an old uniform that they'll never throw out The World Is Ugly: likes Blade Runner and fairy lights, thinks weird  people are very beautiful, insanely observant of other people's  behaviours, wears knee high socks and converses, hates the world because  it's terrible Kiss The Ring: belongs in an alternate universe where it's still the  medieval time but rock bands exist, is probably a contract killer, likes  to overthrow the king every five years, has really fucked up logic  about why it's okay to kill a lot of people, cutthroat Make Rooom!!!!: probably goes to discos, does not panic at them,  actually has some self confidence but always gets into stupid situations  and flails, wears the tightest pants in the world, wears earrings with  crosses on them Surrender the Night: constantly lonely, likes to drive long distances to  think, lost a loved one, has cool patches on their jacket, has been to  hospital twice, likes to listen to you, always keeps secrets unless you  fuck with them Burn Bright: likes going to the city just to look at all the lights,   walks around and thinks that certain things would look nice on Tumblr,   unstable, can be aggressive, very in tune with their surroundings, kind of a Buddhist Common People: your average person, always struggling financially, wears  a lot of blue, always falls in love with shallow rich girls for no  reason, really just wants to live however the fuck they want Every Snowflake Is Different: loves children's TV shows, goes to the  snow every year, loves winter and hot chocolate, will cry if you take  their toys away, will be a good parent, too busy having fun to give a  fuck Desolation Row: got beat up at school, is now in a cutthroat gang, spits  a lot, wears a lot of eyeliner, likes Grease but is also super punk  rock, hates wearing underwear, likes to break shit all the time Desert Song: is recovering from a drug addiction, is still in a really  dark place, trying to stay strong, is questioning the meaning of life,  probably had teal roots at some stage Black Dragon Fighting Society: drinks juice when they're killing because  it's fucking delicious, really likes dragons, reads too much, hates  society, would run away but that would mean no books and no juice so no  fucking way, likes hot pink and black Zero Percent: hates everyone, would kill everyone, really hates people,  does whatever the fuck they want, will kill everybody, will put zero   effort into school or work, does their own thing. Mastas of Ravenkroft: worried about growing old, has no self confidence,  will only have sex if the lights are turned off, feels very old at a  very young age because of shitty bones, also has no fucking chill F.T.W.W.W.: fuck society, is super digital, but also really retro,   always tells people to kiss their ass, lives in a futuristic society,   likes robots, has a licking fettish, likes to destroy shit, will   probably spit randomly We Don't Need Another Song About California: Summertime's long lost  twin, really doesn't give a shit about California, but likes the sun,  probably lives in Florida, hates magazines, probably has a fake name,  thinks that nothing matters All The Angels: is dying, has minutes left, girlfriend has issues   because she's a little risky, everything has gone wrong, everyone is   upset, probably died three years ago, never went to heaven, likes pretty  flowers and dead things Romance: a complete and utter 1800s Romantic, has probably ready  Frankenstein, wants to go on epic journeys, never showers, likes spices,  old fashioned, would probably get into the steampunk fashion thing Blood: is forever in the 1920s, was a war hero but hates themself,  laughs manically sometimes, has a thing for blood but hates vampires,  90% human wreckage, 23% awful fuck, 8% bad at math, 14% clueless

[looselucy]

July

Two noises awoke me on the Sunday morning of the festival. The first was noise of heavy rain crashing down on my fabric roof. The second was the sound of my tent opening. Neither was a good noise.

I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and groaned loudly, not sure which one of the lads had chosen to climb into my tent, and not fussed to see any of them. The only thing that made me move my cover, was the thought that maybe it was a stranger who had stumbled into my home. It was Mike. “Pippa, do you know what time it is?” He asked. “No.” “Do you want to know?” “No.” “Are you rough.” “No.” “Liar.” He chuckled. Obviously, I was lying. I was rough as hell, and not in any state to get out bed quite yet. I needed a little time to recover. Only the day before, I had been gloating about not having hangovers at festivals, and yet there I was, rough as rats. I moved my hand out of the sheets and stroked my thumb over Mikes forehead. “You caught the sun.” I sulked at his bright red skin. “Not gunna happen today though, is it?” He tutted up to the sky. The sound of rain was always amplified in a tent, but I could still tell that it was genuinely pissing it down outside. All the more reason to stay in my tent. “Where are the lads?” I asked, waking. “Louis stole a gazebo, so we’re sorted. He’s already drunk.” He grinned. “We miss you though. We want you to join the fun.” I missed them too, if that was physically possible. The sleep I’d had was obviously needed, but the more I stared at Mikes adorable little burnt face, the more I was regretting staying in my tent. “Okay.” I sighed. “Go on. Tell me. What time is it?” “It’s three.” “THREE?” I cried. “Three.” He repeated through a smile. “Shit. I need to get up.” “Yeah, ya do.” He nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming back to bother you.” He kissed my forehead and then shuffled uneasily out of the tent. My tent was small even for me, never mind Mike the giant. I sat myself upright, shivering in my tent as I grabbed a thick jumper and started pulling it over my head and piecing together the evening before. All I could think about was how wonderful my evening with Harry had been. How for a few hours, it was like I had completely forgotten the wreck of a situation I was in when it came to him. How for just a while, I spent time with him, and everything was normal and everything was nice and I could just be with him without over-thinking it. I hated that it all fell apart before we ended the night. The evening was going to be absolutely perfect, and the worst part was, I wasn’t sure the evening had unravelled just because I had looked into it too much, just because my damn brain was in a whir. I grabbed my little compact mirror to see my face, and in my frenzy the evening before, I had obviously forgotten to take off my makeup. I had mascara stained down my cheeks. I cursed to myself, hating the thought that Mike had obviously just seen that and could possibly be mentioning to the boys. He was more than likely out there telling them all that he thought I had been crying, and then they would start asking why. I cursed to myself again. I rushed to put my hair in a ponytail and wipe the black stains from my face and got out of the tent as quickly as I could, in the hope I had escaped before they had chance to talk about me. But as I stood up straight outside my tent, the boys were all staring at me, sympathetic little smiles on their faces, none the of them saying a thing in their stupid little chairs, beers in their hands. Why has no one ever taught the male species about faking a conversation to save someone’s face and feelings? I bent down to grab a can from my crate, rolling my eyes at the lot of them when they couldn’t see, and then sat in my chair, keeping my head down. “I stole a gazebo.” Louis pointed to the green thing sheltering us from the rain. “You’re my hero.” I replied, grateful he had started a conversation. “We’re refusing to let the rain get us down.” “How you feeling?” Zayn asked me, trying to cover the concern in his voice. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I shrugged. “I just- I’m gunna go grab some food before I start drinking, does anyone want anything?” I couldn’t stand them all looking at me like I was a lost puppy, and I figured if I just gave them five minutes to push past it whilst I went a grabbed a burger from the nearest food van, by the time I got back they would all be fine. Even Harry, who looked just as rough as I did. They all mumbled a no, except Louis, who leaped straight up to his feet. “I’ll come with you.” He chirped. “Alright.” We began darting through tents until we found ourselves on the footpath, the rain belting down on us as Louis zipped up his waterproof jacket and I put up my hood. “Mike mentioned the mascara.” He began pretty quickly. “What? No way! I couldn’t tell at all!” I groaned sarcastically. “What?” “You were all looking at me with these sad fucking eyes. Bloody hell. Made me feel like an idiot.” “Were you crying over Harry? You should never cry over boys. Boys like Harry secretly thrive off that shit. Gives them power.” “I cried over you!” I shot. “That’s because I’m a bastard, and I still feel shit about that!” He pointed out. Harry had admitted to me himself that he had issues with power, so what Louis was saying made complete sense, I just hated the thought of Harry feeling smug about my tears. I didn’t want to think it was true, but I wouldn’t put it past him. “Promise I’ll never cry over you again.” I smiled. “Promise to never make you cry again.” The nearest food van was lit up in the near distance like a lighthouse at the end of a perilous journey overseas. The yellow lights illuminated the mud around the area, warm, welcoming, and the geniuses had even invested on clear gazebos to cover the wooden tables they had outside. “You want anything?” I asked. “Nah. I’ll go sit down and wait for ya.” I realised as I ordered my food, that the place was still alive, in spite of the rain, The true heroes were still out of their tents, music on, dancing and thriving off the thunder that growled through the clouds. The ground was slippery and dangerous beneath my feet, the sky grey, but still the atmosphere and mood of the place refused to shift anywhere other than magnificent. I thanked the van-man for my food and then dashed over and sat across from Louis, who still had a beer in hand and a lazy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve been drunk since before I even managed to wake up.” I said, before taking a bite. “It’s what I do. I went to my first festival last year, and I was out of control. I planned on keeping it up this year, and I have fucking nailed it!” He really had. I wasn’t sure if I had seen him sober once all weekend. I wasn’t even sure he was sober when he arrived. Louis was making the most of the whole festival thing, and how it was acceptable to be drunk at any hour of the day “You had a good time?” I chuckled. “Amazing. Have you?” “So good. Reality seems very unappealing right now.” He nodded, agreeing with me and silently eyeing me across the table, before he hesitantly approached the topic, like I knew he would. “So, why were you crying?” I knew he was going to ask, even though he knew it was about Harry. But I guess what he was really questioning, was what exactly had happened that had brought me to tears. I could barely answer. “I don’t really know.” I sighed. “I had a really nice night with him, and everything was fine and I felt fine, but… then I think it just hit me how much I like him. I’m not even sure, I was fucked. So, I cried, like I always fucking do. Have you ever known someone who cries as much as me?” “Probably not.” He laughed. “Exactly. So maybe you shouldn’t read into my tears too much. Those puppy dog eyes are really condescending.” “Apologies.” He held his hands up. I took another big bite of my burger and playfully stuck my middle finger up at Louis, which he gladly returned. I still couldn’t quite believe that it was Louis who I had decided to talk to about this, but as he sat there across from me, drunk and cheery, he seemed like the ideal guy to unleash my misery on. + + + The weather got worse before it got better, and we all ended up huddled in Mikes bigger tent once the wind began blowing the raindrops under our cover. I lay between Zayn’s legs with my head on his chest, the choice of music mine as I opted for Blur, which got a nod of approval from everyone. Louis kept checking outside the tent in the hope we could retreat relatively soon. “It hasn’t been raining as much for like, ten minutes.” He said hopefully. “LOUIS DO YOU MIND? I’M TELLING A STORY!” Mike cried. “Sorry, man. Go on.” “So I said to him, excuse me sir, I ordered a pint, and this is not full to the top, and he said, well, it wasn’t even me who served you. And that’s when I realised we were in a completely different pub, and that was a completely different pint. I went home after that because I was too drunk.” It had reached the stage where we all genuinely found Mikes terrible stories funny, because it was his thing. If Mike ever told a funny story, I think none of us would laugh, we would be too confused, but it was thanks to the lack humour in every tale that he told, that we often ended up in stitches. My head was bobbing up and down like crazy thanks to Zayn laughing. “You should write a book.” Harry told him through chuckles. “A book?” “A book of stories. Just your little anecdotes.” He grinned. Mike was flattered, probably because Mike obviously thought his stories were great, but that was for different reasons than we did. “You think?” His eyes were wide. “What would I call it?” “Talking Shit. A professional guide. By Mike Jones.” Mikes face absolutely dropped and we all laughed even more, Harry seeming very proud of himself for getting such a good reaction from his crowd, taking up an entire side of the tent as he lay on his side and stretched across, his arm propping up his head, and one knee pointed to the sky, like someone was bloody sketching him. “Harsh, man. Harsh.” Mike nodded. “Fuck. I really don’t wanna go home.” Zayn smacked a kiss on the top of my head. “I don’t miss my bed or anything.” I sighed. “I just want to be here forever. It’s like another world.” “Fuck, guys, I forgot to tell you!” Louis cried. “I heard some people talking last night, and apparently there’s a secret stage somewhere.” “That shit is a fucking legend.” Zayn snorted. “I’ve heard that for the past sixteen years of my life. I’ve never found it. It’s not real.” “No no no, man, I heard!” Louis argued. “I heard them talking about it because they’d been there! We gotta find it.” “There’s nothing to find.” “I heard them saying that there’s a tunnel! I’m telling you, it’s real.” “A tunnel?” Zayn scoffed. “Can we go find it? Please? We need to at least look.” Zayn tutted and sighed, but Louis had these glistening eyes that were definitely hard to say no to. On top of that, Zayn really loved Louis. “Alright. Does everyone want to waste their time looking for the non-existent, secret stage?” We all cried our replies at exactly the same time. Though they did vary. “I’d love to!” I beamed. “I’m down for that.” Harry shrugged. “Fuck yes, bitch, let’s do it!” Mike cried. I sat upright in an attempt to go and put on some more acceptable clothes, since it had been dry-ish for quite a while now, and I was ready to get back into the arena and enjoy our final evening, but I was brought to a halt. “Guys, there’s just one thing, before we go.” Zayn spoke. “What?” I quizzed. “Every year on the last night, everyone puts on loads of bright makeup and glitter and stuff. S’a bit of a tradition.” “You want me to wear makeup?” Harry scowled. For what felt like the millionth time, I rolled my eyes at Harry’s protection over his dear masculinity. It just made me want to plaster foundation all over his face and constantly be following him and littering him with glitter, dancing around him and singing Spice Girls songs. He needed to take a leaf out of Zayn’s book. “Honestly, mate, you’ll look more out of place if you don’t put makeup on.” Zayn said to him. “I think I’m okay with that.” “Well, you won’t be seen with us then.” Mike tutted. “Fun-sponge.” “Pip, will you do my makeup for me?” Louis grinned. “Of course.” I laughed back. “I’ll do everyone’s makeup.” All our heads turned slowly to Harry, wondering if he could drop his bravado for just one night and join in the fun with the rest of us. Though he seemed reluctant, he finally agreed. “Fine. I’ll wear fucking makeup.” He fumed. + + + There weren’t many occasions where I had been so close to Harry’s face, and the gap between us hadn’t been closed. There had never been a time I was so close to Harry, applying glitter to his face. I doubted he ever wanted it to happen again. I had done my own makeup after getting changed, then I did the other three boys, who were outside enjoying the dry atmosphere whilst it lasted, drinking and singing away, and then it was just me and Harry in Mikes tent, Harry unwillingly opting for minimal makeup. I was putting silver glitter on his temples, shaping his eyes beautifully. “Would you cheer up!” I chuckled and whined. “I look like an idiot.” He groaned. “You don’t look like an idiot, you’re just acting like one.” He was looking deep into my eyes as I shaped the lines of his face, putting light traces of the glitter beneath his cheek bones, looking anywhere but actually at him, wishing I could get through the entire process with my eyes closed. “Easy for you to say.” He huffed. “Just ‘cause you look idiotically beautiful with glitter all over your face.” It wasn’t quite a flinch, because Harry wouldn’t have ever let himself, but it was like an alarmed look on his face, like he hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out. The glitter was, thankfully, hiding my pink cheeks. “Don’t try and butter me up.” I tried to brush past it. “I’ll just end up putting more glitter on.” “I wasn’t trying to butter you up.” He sighed. “You need to learn how to accept a compliment.” “Hey! I know how to accept a compliment.” “Then let me say something, and just say thank you.” He said, so I nodded. “You are fucking beautiful.” It was like he knew he had been close to flinching and he just needed to change that by repeating the statement in a more confident manner, so I wouldn’t know he was human and he faltered sometimes. I looked down to the floor, not able to look at his face for another second, but Harry didn’t let me escape that easily. He took his finger and his thumb, pinched them between my chin, and lifted my face so I was staring into the headlights again. He nodded, prompting me to talk. “Thank you.” I did as I was told. “You’re welcome. Now are we done?” He grinned. “Yeah. We’re done.” “Thanks, Pip-Squeak. You’ve made me look terrible, and I’m grateful. You ready to go?” “Mhm.” I wasn’t ready to go. At all. I was very concerned that if I tried to stand up I would just go toppling back to the ground like a damsel in distress. That was genuinely how I felt. I was genuinely distressed by the whole thing. Harry scuttled out of the tent, and was greeted by the boy’s whey-ing and cheering the fact he had some kind of decoration on his face, much to his dismay, and I sat on my knees in Mikes tent just trying to control my breathing so I wouldn’t pass out. Harry had said nice things to me previously, complimented me, flattered me, made me blush, but he had never said anything that had gotten to me quite like that. It was that whole thing; how I could just tell he couldn’t help himself. That he had just told me that so honestly. It was one of the first times in my life that I felt truly beautiful, and I was too shook up to appreciate it. Then on top of that, I just started getting annoyed with myself, for only feeling beautiful because a boy had told me I was. But it was Harry. Harry had told me he thought I was beautiful, and suddenly my feelings felt more delightful than they did daunting. “Pull yourself together.” I seethed to myself. I practically ran out of the tent and re-joined the boys, because the longer I stayed on my own, the longer I gave myself to reflect over and evaluate what it meant, which was never good. Especially for me. I could overthink a cough if I wanted to. I blamed those lectures studying people and body languages, but it was something I had done for years. I guess, maybe, it was down to having a sibling. A childhood with an older brother consisted mainly of dirty looks and sly remarks and hidden messages. All those things, on top of being a pretty typical female, had made me one of those people who couldn’t just forget things. Everything needed to be looked into and investigated. I clambered out of the tent as soon as I could. As soon as the fresh air hit me, so did a can of beer. “Sorry!” Mike laughed. He had obviously predicted that I would have a speedy reaction when he chucked the drink to me, but quick reaction skills weren’t something I could claim. That’s why it hit me in the face. I bent down and picked up my can, clicking it open and looking at the boys. Zayn looked mesmerizing. He had gone for glitter on his eyelids, thin, long, striking; making every look he gave seem as though he was mid-photoshoot. Like he was a model and we were all just basking in his presence. He also had glitter all over his lips, marking how plump they were. Louis was all cheekbones, thick stripes against the already striking structure of his face, another thick stripe down the centre of his forehead. Of course, Mikes glitter was all over the place. He had requested a dot on his chin, one on his forehead, a love heart on one cheek and a star on the other. “You all look fantastic.” I smiled, and took a swig. “Yeah yeah, we know. Now c’mon, let’s go.” Louis whined. “I think I might know where this secret stage is.” “I know exactly where it is.” Zayn chortled. “In your head.” In protest, Louis began marching towards the entrance gates, shaking his head, truly believing, and also very excited, about this secret stage he had heard so little about but held all faith in. We all began following, not quite as excited, but people say it’s about the journey, not the destination, and that worked well here; because even if this secret stage didn’t exist, I was definitely excited to look for it. “You think we’ll find anything?” I asked Zayn hopefully. “I genuinely don’t. I’ve looked for it for years, and never had any luck.” “Well if it’s been a rumour for years, don’t you think it’s true?” “People have believed in the Loch Ness Monster for years, and that’s definitely not real.” “Have you explored the depths of Loch Ness?” I grinned. “I don’t bloody need to!” “No, mate, I’m serious, here’s the thing.” Mike began. “My mates mate has a cousin with a mate, who lives in Scotland, and he said he’s seen in ten times!” “Fuck sake.” Zayn groaned. “He just said he respects its privacy.” He concluded. Zayn was running the risk of ruining his makeup by stroking over his eyes with great dismay as Harry was trying very hard not to choke on his beer. Louis was well ahead of us. “With Louis’ determination and Mikes madness, we’ll find this secret stage in ten minutes.” I chuckled. But that was not that case. Hours of searching, literal hours. We stopped occasionally, to get a bit of food or to dance a little more, to buy drinks and to soak up the atmosphere of each different arena, but Louis refused to give in, and for hours and hours, we chased our tails, looking for a place that I too, was beginning to believe was just an urban myth. A few minutes before midnight, we all sat down against one of the stages that shut a little earlier in the night, all pretty tipsy, having still had a good evening regardless of our failure, and decided to relax a little bit. I’d never seen Louis look so disheartened. “I officially give up.” Harry sighed. “We’re gunna have to. It shuts at two on the Sunday night.” Zayn told us. “These are our last two hours officially at the festival, and I refuse to waste them.” “So where’d you wanna go?” Harry asked him. “It’s your call.” “I dunno, man. I like the tree arena.” “Treena.” Mike said to himself. “Okay, let’s go there.” Harry smiled. “Does anyone else need more beers?” “I’ll go see if the band left any backstage.” Mike grinned. He began crawling round from the front of the stage right to the back as we all absorbed where we were for the final few hours, so beyond content it was almost uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the feet that had danced and jumped on the very spot I was on, the bands that had performed their music on the very stage I was resting my head on. “Can we come back next year?” I asked. “We’re doing this every year now until we die.” Zayn smirked. “I’m totally cool with that.” Harry breathed. “I’m stuck with you guys til I die?” Louis baffled. “Meh. Alright.” “HOLY SHIT!” We heard from behind us. I bolted my head around in a bit of a frenzy, because the thought of Mike being hurt or in any kind of trouble made my heart stop. “MIKE? Are you okay?” I cried. “GUYS THERE’S A FUCKING TUNNEL.” Louis came alive. He went from slouching to being the stiffest person ever, his eyes so wide he could have convinced anyone he was on acid, which wouldn’t have been too much of a surprise at that festival. Zayn still wasn’t getting excited. “DON’T FUCK WITH ME, MAN!” Louis whelped. “I’M BEING SERIOUS! GET YOUR ARSES BACK HERE. HOLY SHIT!” Louis ran round before any of us even thought Mike was being serious, because I was expecting Louis to get to the back of the stage/tent and begin shouting at Mike and calling him a prick for leading him on. That wasn’t what we heard. “GUYS HE’S NOT LYING!” Suddenly we were all on our feet, darting around to the back of the stage, standing over all the wires and technical crap that hadn’t been packed up quite yet, and seeing that dead centre, in the back of the tent, was a small, round tunnel, leading to the unknown. Mike turned his head to us slowly. “The secret stage.” He whispered. + + + The secret stage didn’t close at 2am. When it got to 3am, I wasn’t sure it would ever close. The daunting thought of having to up and leave early in the morning, was not a thought that crossed any of our minds at any point in the evening. The lights at the secret stage were just pinks and purples, too transfixing and consuming to ever want to leave. We were pleasantly surprised by the amount of people who had managed to find the stage, because it was busy, but not too busy. Loud, but not too loud. It was perfect. We couldn’t have ended the evening any better than being in there. We were on top of the world, so much so, we weren’t really sure when to quit, when to call it a night. I guess our only signal, was that around half an hour before, Mike had been placed on a seat right next to the DJ, and he had fallen asleep. “Maybe it’s time to get him back.” Zayn shrugged. I had to agree. None of us wanted to outdo ourselves, and it turned out you couldn’t actually buy any drinks in the secret arena, so we were all actually relatively sober (bar Mike, I don’t know how he managed it) but it was good. It was like Zayn had said on the Friday morning. It felt good to be aware. It felt good to be fully in that moment, to be conscious and in the right frame of mind, to fully understand how wonderful the festival was. It couldn’t have gotten better. Crawling through that pitch black, dirty, smelly tunnel, had definitely been worth it. Crawling back through it, and trying to get Mike through it, was not quite as rewarding. Especially since a lot of the time, this being one of them, boys don’t have that maternal instinct and need to look after their friends. It ended up being me who had to drag Mike through the tunnel. “C’mon, Mike. You can do it.” “I could just sleep here.” He mulled drunkenly. “You’re in a tunnel.” “You’re in a tunnel.” He retorted. “I am indeed, Mike. I’m also ready to get out of the tunnel so, c’mon, take my hand.” “HURRY UP!” I heard Harry from behind us. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, STYLES! I’M WORKING ON IT.” I held my hand out in the darkness, hoping Mike would reach for me, and he did. I shuffled backwards out of the tunnel, thankful to get out, and then helped Mike up to his feet as soon as we were free, still the only one helping him stand upright as the rest of the lads started walking back to camp. “I love you, Pip.” He groaned. “I love you too, Mike. Now c’mon. Bed time.” I took hold of his hand, and we walked back to camp with each other, not able to catch up with the others, as Mike began listing off things that he loved. He loved me. He loved pineapples. He loved cups of tea. He loved the colour pink, but don’t tell the lads. He loved The Killers and he really loved Atomic Kitten. This list would have been fine if it hadn’t started raining again whilst we had been at the secret stage, and by the time we were finally back at camp, the rest of the lads had already retrieved to their tents, and I looked like a drowned rat. “GOODNIGHT, BOYS!” Mike screamed as he fell into his tent, Louis practically waiting with open arms. “Goodnight!” I added. They all said their goodnights, having to be extra loud over the rain as I quickly got in my tent and zipped it up tight. I took off my wet clothes immediately, and shoved them into my backpack, proud that I had been organized enough earlier in the day to pack everything away, leaving my tent almost empty. All there was, once I shoved my bag into the foot area of my tent, was me, and my sleeping bag. I tucked myself up and began thinking over my weekend, the ups and downs of my emotions, but how, even after all that, including the tears, I probably wouldn’t have changed a second of it. Nothing needed to be changed. The whole place was magical, and I hoped to take some of the fairy dust that was sprinkled on those fields, and on our faces, and bring it into my real life. I was completely still. Completely content. Then I heard a voice. “Oi. Pip-Squeak.” “Harry?” My tent started to unzip, and within a matter of seconds again, it was closed, and Harry was inside with me, shivering. “My tents raining in.” He sighed, sleeping bag tucked under his arm. “Do you mind if I kip in here?” I wanted to say no. That stupid pink tent was so tiny, having that proximity with him again had the ability to kill me off. So, of course, I decided to make a joke. “You sure you can stand sleeping in my pink tent?” I sulked sarcastically. “I’ll survive, I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes. He unravelled his sleeping bag and lay it out on my spare side and I tucked into my own a little more, very aware I was only in my tiny bra and knickers, then purposefully laying on my side so I could see him. He settled in pretty quickly. “Does your sleeping bag have a built-in pillow?” I beamed. “Yeah!” “That’s amazing!” “I know!” He nodded, deadly serious. “Can you believe the bloody technology we have these days?” “Do sleeping bags count as technology?” I quizzed, grinning. “They do when they have pillows built into them.” “Ahh. Okay.” I chuckled and closed my eyes, and it surprised me that this was the most comfortable I had been all weekend. I thought being that close with him would put me on edge, but it relaxed me. It made me so comfortable, having him there with me. It was familiar, something I hadn’t even realised I was missing. I was suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation that Harry’s tent was so rubbish.The only thing I wished, was that I had a sleeping bag big enough for two. “I’m sorry for being mean about the little pink tent.” He spoke. “The little pink tent is currently saving you from drowning.” I smirked. “I think you should thank the little pink tent.” “Thanks, little pink tent.” He obliged. “She says you’re welcome?” I giggled. “She?” Harry grimaced. “Well, this is the first time I’ve been inside a woman for quite a while.” “HARRY!” I cried. I pulled my arm out of the sleeping bag and hit him hard, which he probably expected/wanted as he sniggered, very impressed with his own quick wit, and how he was making me squeal. “That’s disgusting.” I concluded. “I aim to please.” He shrugged. As I lay there, trying to control my titters, staring at him, all I wanted to do was tell him how grateful I was that he was there with me. My weekend would have ended on a high even if I was in that tent on my own. Just having him there with me, making inappropriate jokes and looking smug, was making me so happy. “I don’t want to go home.” I whispered. “This should be a week-long thing.” He said, turning so he was facing the sky. “Hm. Yeah. I might want to go home if it was a week. Three days just isn’t long enough.” “I know, as well, that I’m going to get home tomorrow and just want to crash, and my dad’s will just be dying and screaming and asking me if I had a nice time.” “And what will you tell them?” I asked. “I won’t tell them anything. I’ll be asleep.” “Well, what will you tell them when you wake up?” “That I had the best weekend ever.” I wondered how the second year of uni would play out. I wondered if I would still be staring at him with the same longing eyes, admiring every single word he said, or if things would change, my feelings would pass and he could go back to being just Harry rather than Harry. It was just under two months, and I would be living with him, and Zayn. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I was practically wishing away those months. I just wanted to get all my things in that grotty little house, and start my new life with the two of them. I guess, in my head, it seemed like a fresh start. I was hoping I would have a fresh look on things, too. “It’s been a beautiful escape from reality.” I mulled. He turned back to face me, and shuffled towards me slightly, taking a deep breath in and seeming to calm. I felt like sleeping was crawling towards us. “It’s like a different world, isn’t it?” “Mm.” I agreed. “It’s like… nothing is real here. Almost like there’s… no guidelines. No... consequences to your actions. It’s just... a fantasy. Fiction. Like we can do whatever we want.” I definitely couldn’t do whatever I wanted. Because doing whatever I wanted would involve getting out of my sleeping bag and kissing him until my lips were stinging, until they were swollen and ugly, until there wasn’t a single chance any other girl would ever cross his mind again. That’s what I would do, if I could do whatever I wanted. I closed my eyes and looked down, trying to think of anything other than his lips. “Pip.” He whispered for my attention. As soon as I looked back up, Harry proved his desires ran alongside mine, as he threw himself at me, and kissed me. It was hard, rushed, racy. His arm captured around my back automatically so that he could pull me closer to him, practically dragging the top of my body out of the sleeping bag as I snaked my arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth. I was in heaven. His hands were stroking down my spine, his tongue was gracing its way into my mouth, my moans were real and alive as I made sure I was as close to him as I could physically be. I needed him. I kicked my sleeping bag off my body, and as soon as Harry had done the same thing, I leaped so that I was on top of him, straddling his beautiful hips and pulling his t-shirt off his body. His skin was surprisingly warm under my itching fingertips, so soft and silken. I felt like it was made to blend with mine, like only my hands could touch his skin and feel it for exactly what it was. I moved to kiss him again, running my fingers through the curls either side of his head, grinding my core against him, feeling him harden beneath me whilst he grunted into my mouth like an animal. “Fuck.” I panted. He flipped us so that I was on my back again, and without saying anything, he started to remove his jeans. That’s when I knew it was going to happen. That’s when it sunk in, that this wasn’t just going to be like the other times. This time, we were going to cross the line, we were going to explore a realm that had only been fictional before, because we were in a fictional world and we could! We finally felt as though the consequences of our actions couldn’t hold us back. Within seconds, he was totally nude, and climbing back over to me. He didn’t need to ask, but I could tell he wanted to. I decided to answer his question before he even had the chance to voice it, by dipping my fingers into the sides of my knickers, and taking them off, slowly, watching him watch me. He looked me deep in the eyes once they were off, and I just nodded. He knew. We both knew. He smothered the top of my body with his as he moved between my legs, kissing me so deeply I felt like I was going to pass out. All I could hear was the rain beating down on my tent, and our heavy breathing, and for once in my life it was all I needed. I just needed us, I just needed to be there. Suddenly, he slowed the kiss down, and pulled away, looking into my eyes like he could read every single word I had never told him. That’s when he gently took hold of himself, and slowly, pushed into me. I wanted to roll my head back, amazed by the feeling in my stomach, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. I had to look into those green lightbulbs to really let the moment sink in. Despite everything, I was finally feeling him fully. He began to move, calm and filled with ease and grace, still looking me in the eyes, his breathing all over the place, but I wasn’t sure I was breathing at all. I bit my bottom lip, and finally cracked my neck, letting out a moan of approval, and that’s when he seemed to calm down, and he really started to move. He began kissing at my jaw as he thrust his hips into me, picking up speed as his hands gripped at my waist. Suddenly he was harsh, quick, and with every peak he hit, he grunted, or groaned, or made any kind of noise that that sent my senses soaring. “I’ve needed you for so long.” He whispered. He began rolling himself into me as I pushed back up against him, gripping at the hair on the back of his head and pulling him so his lips met mine, licking his bottom lip as he granted me access again, one of his paws moving to my breast and the other gripping at one of my cheeks. He was kissing me like he had never kissed me before. I could feel his passion oozing from his mouth and seeping into me, filling me up right from my toes to the top of my head. We were so fucking close with one another, I couldn’t tell where his body ended and mine began. I’d never been like that with someone before. I’d never been so involved, so pleasured. I trailed my fingers down sweetly over his spine, enjoying the feel of his thrusting rushing through his back, the thought of how being with me was taking over his whole body and mind. He was completely mine. Once I had trailed down his whole back, I gripped at his bum cheek, my nails digging into the delicate skin, and it made him work even harder, beating into me and biting my bottom lip, before cursing to himself. “Fuck. Fuck, Pip. I need- I’m gunna- Fuck.” I knew we weren’t going to last long. It somehow felt as though we’d been taking part in months of foreplay. He moved his hand down to my clit, not losing stamina for even a split second as he began rubbing two fingers quickly against me, sending sparks of rapture shooting through my veins as I panted and moaned and writhed underneath him, losing my mind as soon as he was touching me there. “Please… Harry, I’m so close.” I cried. “C’mon.” He rambled through gritted teeth. “I need to feel you. I’ve waited so long to feel you-” He pushed deep into me, tongue buried into my mouth but never stinting the gorgeous noises that our intercourse pulled from him. He felt so good, so fucking incredible that I wanted to stay within that moment, right there in the initial stages of my orgasm, with his tongue tender and tough with mine. His fingers dipped a little lower, practically cupping some of my wet desire before he lift them back up, and rubbed those juice against my clit. I came with no more warning than that. I had been almost sure he could make me reach my peak just through certain looks, never mind when he was fucking me like I’d never been fucked before. Harry was shaking, just feeling me release myself on him like that was sending him into a state of sexual hysteria, thrusting even harder, his hand dragging up to me until his fingers wound into my loose hair and gripped onto it so tightly I cried out in both pleasure and pain. I watched the dull lights from outside light up the glitter on his face as he looked down to me, and he was just so consuming. He had pulled me into him and I wasn’t sure I would ever breathe real air again. In that moment, I didn’t want to. “Kiss me.” I called. So he did. Once our lips were in contact again, I could feel Harry faltering, I could feel him nearing his end, the way his lips were shaking, the way his thrusts were slower but quicker all at the same time. Then, when it was happening, I could feel him inside me, I could feel his body shaking as his lips stopped moving and he just stopped breathing, completely stopped. I kissed his bottom lip, and tightened my legs against his hips, watching him as his orgasm hit because of me. I just watched him, totally in awe. It was almost like a relief, when he started breathing again. It felt like it had been so long. He looked back down to me, his chest vibrating, then he nuzzled his nose against mine. I couldn’t help but show the joy that tugged upwards on the corners of my lips. He flopped down to the side after a short while, his chest still heaving after the workout, as was mine, but I felt fully unwound as I turned my head to the side and just watched him for a while, totally silent, just admiring the profile of his face, the way his jaw looked like it could cut diamonds. He was astonishing. Bewildering. “Unzip your sleeping bag.” He huffed after some time. “What?” I was still out of my head. “You think after that, I’m just going to get into my own sleeping bag and you’ll get in yours? No way. I’m staying on another planet with you.” “Okay.” I hushed. So I did what I was told. I grabbed my sleeping bag from the bottom of the tent, and completely unzipped it so that it was like a duvet, and spread it across the two of us. As soon as that was done, I turned to face away from him, hoping he would slot against my back and put his arms around me. But that wasn’t what he wanted. “Turn around.” He whispered. I groaned, but conformed, grinning because it felt so obvious, for the first time, how much he wanted me. I was willing to do whatever he requested. He ushered me into his arms, and we settled together, one of my legs draped over his hip, his butterfly against my stomach, my breasts against his chest, and his lips on my head. We lay in silence for a while, consuming our closeness, and what had just happened. I knew it might have been stupid, in the long run, but I didn’t regret what had happened for a second. I kissed his chest, silently concerned that Harry would feel differently. He soon proved I had nothing to be worried about. “This is perfect.” He gulped, holding me a little tighter. “You’re perfect.” I said accidentally. But I didn’t regret saying it, because the two of us were so caught up in the moment, I knew I could have said anything, really, and nothing could truly shock him. Then, on top of that, he was perfect. There was no denying that. “Goodnight, Pip.” He mumbled. “Goodnight, Harry.” We fell asleep like that, the rain still pelting down over our heads, the wind shaking our walls, and my feelings shaking my heart.