#coincidentally this fish was next on my list for fish facts to make! good timing

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #799

Stoplight loosejaw!

The stoplight loosejaw is able to see red with a chlorophyll derivative that absorbs red light — the fish obtains this pigment from eating copepods, which actually make up a large portion of its diet! One of its most notable features is its large, red cheek light, but it also has other lights, like a green light under the eye and several small blue lights all over its underside.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (13/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

With attire alone, Levi was already a fish out of water.

As the seconds ticked though, his self consciousness only grew.

It wasn’t just an issue of clothing. Too many things had been against him the whole way to the dinner room. The white and silver of the windows of the private dinner room in the hotel reflected the setting sun, the marble floors, the glass bridge, the carpeted floors.

The scenery was only half the battle though. The men and women strode in and out of the dinner room with attire much grander than is. There were leather bags, the jewelry and constantly hovering in the air were the business vernacular that fell into one ear and out the order.

There were too many conversations on mergers, acquisitions, business climates, market prices he could never be part of. And his own direct companions weren’t making it any better.

As Levi soon understood, it wasn’t their job to make him feel comfortable anyway.

“Yelena,” he repeated, a memory exercise for himself. The whole journey from the convention center on the first floor to one of the rooms in the mid floor of the hotel was silent and long. In the sea of business pleasantries though, it seemed ironic that the blonde had never even made conversation beyond her own name.

Even as she sat next to him on the dinner table, she didn’t speak, not even bothering to respond to her own name. She was too close though, only a few inches away that Levi swore she had heard it.

“That’s your name right?” Levi added. He couldn’t think of much else to say. After blurting her name mindlessly, with Porco and Pieck seated just in front of him, looking at him expectantly, he knew he had to continue with something.

“I introduced myself back in the lobby already,” Yelena finally responded.

“You did,” Levi said.

“Is there anything you want to ask?” Yelena asked, no hint of benevolence in her tone.

Levi had been rolling on the bed, in and out of sleep the whole day. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to think.

Yelene had a knowing look on her face, as if she knew something he didn’t. And she seemed to be enjoying it. Since a while ago, she hadn’t at all been subtle with the fact that somehow, by just their first meeting, Levi had managed to rub her the wrong way. It wasn’t too radical of an idea, that she may enjoy his pain.

Levi’s mind was suddenly racing, reminding him why he had even considered going in the first place. Is there anything you wanna ask?  Those words echoed for a while longer. The longer he sat there silently, the more restless he became. He avoided her gaze, looking behind her, then behind Porco and Pieck, taking in his surroundings again. He was observing mannerisms, branded bags, branded ties, branded purses and Zeke in the middle of all of it, going from one table to the other.

Eventually, after the discomfort settled, Levi realized he was torturing himself for a reason.

Hange wasn’t there. And he shouldn’t have needed that long look to notice it. But you’ve given up already? Right?

“You’re not going to eat?” Pieck was a lot more friendly. There was a huge difference between being polite and being friendly and Levi suspected, he was only seeing politeness as friendliness given the stark contrast of Yelena’s overall approach towards him

In the air, tension hung so thick. Levi didn’t notice a piece of bread and a bowl of soup had been served in front of him. “I will.” He immediately went for the spoon in front of him.

“That’s the spoon for the main course,” Yelena said.

“What?” By the second, Levi was starting to realize how disconnected he actually was. Around the soup, there were spoons, forks and knives in multiple sizes. In a panic, Levi had looked around to see it was the same for everyone else.

Yet, everyone else knew how to navigate such a complex design.

“The small one is the soup spoon.” Pieck was helpful at least. “No, that’s the tea spoon,” she added as she looked pointedly at the smallest one Levi had taken hold of.

Levi was familiar enough with tea to be familiar with the size of the teaspoon. At that point though, who cared what spoon he ate with? He wasn’t there to dine.

By some pride or just utter frustration at the whole situation, the spoon debacle was never solved and Levi never touched his soup that night. He closed himself off from everything else, keeping his world closed to anything but the entrance, Zeke, the crowds, and the one familiar face he wanted to see.

But Hange never showed up.

“She’s not coming. If that’s what you’re thinking.” Yelena could have been reading his mind.

“Who’s not coming?” Levi asked. He widened his eyes in mock surprise but he kept his voice toneless. In his mind, that seemed like a good balance to display both calm and disconnect.

Yelena never answered the question. Maybe she knew silence was the right answer, that is, if her attention had been to keep his insides boiling in frustration, his mind racing.

The grin on her face only proved it. Maybe that was her intention.

It only got worse though as the night dragged on and Levi noticed his own restlessness around the salad course that he could barely even look at.

He could barely coordinate his hands. His legs were trembling.

Those few moments he focused on evening out his breathing, he was able to grip the spoon, then the steak knife as the main course came in.

As if to add salt to whatever wound she had, Yelena commented abruptly. “It’s not everyday people like you will be able to get steak like this.”

The steak could have just been soft. Or Levi was recovering. One of those, he couldn’t be too sure. But it was a good steak. He could tell that much. It melted in his mouth and he had spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating how it was physically possible for steak to melt in his mouth.

Then suddenly the delectable steak rotted mid chew. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” It was as if Yelena was on a mission to be a total buzzkill. Maybe she was being paid by Zeke to do just that.

And she was doing a wonderful job. Levi almost choked on that last piece, his fork fell to his lap. In a bout of embarrassment, he stood up. “Toilet.”

Five minutes and an empty bladder later, whatever peace and calm he had managed to muster alone in the toilet completely dissipated. It seemed like that dinner was also on a mission to make him as miserable as possible even in a supposedly pleasant environment.

“Where’s my steak?” Levi put too much energy into keeping his tone as subdued as possible.

“Oh, you weren’t done?” Pieck asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He had only gotten two bites. Of course, he wouldn’t be done. He was close to raising his hand up to call the waiter until he was reminded, he didn’t even pay for the dinner. Did he even have the right to complain?

At that point, Levi was just a little ticked, his grumbling stomach at having missed three courses over his own discomfort and tense state was already catching up to him. “What made you think I was done?”

“You put your spoon and fork together, like this,” Pieck said. “That means you’re done with the course.” She organized her plate the same way Levi did, for just a second.

Maybe Levi had been too self conscious. In an attempt to seem more posh than he actually was, Levi had channeled his own fastidiousness into putting the utensils together before he left for the toilet.

“I would think someone who works in corporate would know this. This is standard fine dining,” Yelena said nonchalantly.

Fine dining for Levi meant a dinner at a cafe, or a sit down restaurant. The whole world that existed for the sake of fine dining, the course meals, the secret language he didn’t seem to understand felt completely unnecessary. And the longer they sat there as if deliberately keeping him in the dark while he starved, Levi only became more and more impatient.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have known any better at first,” Levi said.

“I’ve been handling Zeke’s properties overseas for years so I’ve had my fair share of fine dining experience.” She then turned to Pieck and Porco who both nodded. “Even before that, my parents have taught me this. Have yours?”

Levi’s earliest memories of fine dining had been sit down restaurants, diners, nothing too fancy. He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t come here with the intention of dining. You put me on that list yourself, without even waiting for a reply.” He regretted it, as soon as he let it out. His grumbling stomach had him almost out of control.

Yelena raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Then why did you still come, Mr. Ackerman? The free food?”

Levi froze.

“The free food you barely even touched?” Yelena pressed.

And Levi stiffened up, much harder than he would have thought was ‘completely frozen.’

“You have some business to settle with Mr. Jaeger I’m guessing?”

“It’s none of your business.” Levi managed to say.

“I’ve been working for the Jaegers for years. I manage their overseas properties, a few apartments and houses here and there,” she said proudly.

“And?” Levi challenged. “Does that make you entitled to whatever other business Zeke has?”

That question was a response enough. Enough to get Yelena crack, her expression shifted from incredulous, to abrasive to subdued. One eyebrow raised, mouth twitching slightly. “I had to clean up the mess you two left behind.”

Mess? Levi had an inkling of an answer.

A clatter of metal on a plate. “Yelena! Not here,” Pieck said.

“Then we should talk outside then.” Yelena was half way to standing up, before she stopped herself.

Levi found himself following her gaze. The one view that had her frozen in her tracks had been Zeke and before Levi even knew it himself, he was just as surprised as Yelena.

“Should we retire early?” Zeke asked.

“Sir, you haven’t eaten yet,” Yelena argued.

Zeke shook his head. “I hold these dinners to find potential business partners, not to eat.” He turned to Pieck. “I think Pieck can take over from here. I’ll leave you to answer any questions about Jaeger healthcare holdings.”

Pieck nodded. “Yes sir, I’ll take over.”

“No hurry, everyone’s still busy with their meals…” Zeke looked pointedly at his surroundings at the other people. HIs staff table had been conveniently placed by the corner, and it didn’t seem at all like their conversation had been heard by everyone else.

Pieck and Porco were noticeably eating faster, seeming deep in thought. Back into business mode maybe, the caustic exchange of a while ago completely forgotten. Or at least they looked like they were attempting to forget it.

Not burdened with that same responsibility, Yelena didn’t seem to put up any facade. Her own antagonizing attitude towards Levi didn’t falter. Yet somehow, Zeke’s presence had kept her mum, subdued her to just venomous glares.

They exited the dinner hall and made their way out of the hallway, opening up to the open hotel lobby. “We can talk in my private suite,” Zeke said. “I don’t like having a lot of my conversations in public.”

Levi didn’t respond. The glances Yelena snuck him only made it harder to come up with anything more than a few mumbles which he was sure would only make him look pathetic in front of Zeke.

“Did you pay for the flight yourself?” Zeke asked.

Levi nodded. Where’s Hange? That thought tore into his mind so abruptly, Levi found himself having to clamp his mouth shut, much tighter than normal. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. God knows, he might end up asking just that cursed question.

“You’re quiet,” Zeke commented as they entered the elevator. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

Levi nodded and mumbled some hint of a yes.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Really what was your favorite course?”

The steak obviously. Even those words got caught somewhere in his throat, admitting to Zeke that he enjoyed the food seemed almost like flaunting himself naked.

Luckily—or unluckily, Zeke didn’t prod, instead going for another speech which made Levi regret keeping silent. “I hold dinners every night for PR, get the right potential partners to the same room, for my healthcare holdings, my supermarket holdings, my…” Zeke rattled on.

To Levi, it felt the blonde had just been jacking himself off instead of actually making conversation. Still, that gave Levi time to think.

Thinking turned out to be a bad thing.

Even before they arrived at the penthouse floor, Levi had to admit, the hotel was posh. The scent of new wood hung in the air, the marble finishings, the lamp made out of metals Levi suspected weren’t easy to acquire. And when they stepped from the elevator wing to the matted floor of the penthouse, whatever plush they used underneath greeted him in some strange manner.

Strangely, Levi felt guilty for dirtying something which he was completely aware was supposed to be dirtied anyway dealing with foot traffic everyday. Then the more they walked, the more self conscious he became of the way he was walking.

Zeke and Yelena both walked ahead with confident strides and Zeke never stopped talking. When Levi found himself listening, he noticed, Zeke's tirades only made the grand hall seem grander, a completely different world to Levi, something he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Was he a visitor. Hell, maybe not even a visitor. A slave? A serf?

“The convention is to attract potential resellers. We’re planning on reselling our research, our products, our technology, to this region...”

They walked towards the end of the hall, stopping in front of some fancy door only accentuated by the plush carpets and the decorative lamps.

“... And this city will be our hub…” It looked like Zeke had been too distracted by his own grand plans to even bother to open the door. It was fortunate then that Yelena had the key and that she knew her way into the presidential suite.

They settled on the sofa in the living rooms, the first room past the foyer.

“We’ll set up office space... Maybe a building...”

It was around then that Levi noticed he hadn’t been offered a seat but he didn’t mind it too much. The multiple sitting rooms, the wide window to one side that gave a good view of the infinity pool on the balcony, and beyond that, a view of the city.

Did Hange get to swim? Levi looked out for a while longer and he couldn’t look away. The longer he looked, the easier it became to imagine her leaning over the infinity pool in her purple bathing suit.

“It will cost a few million dollars…”

Just like in the country club.

“Levi, you want to go for a swim?”

Levi coughed, an instinctive movement. “Sorry… Excuse me, what?”

Zeke looked very unimpressed. It was obviously a joke. “For gods sake, sit down. It’s distracting just watching you stand awkwardly.”

“So why did you invite me here?” Levi asked. If not to listen to you ramble. He added silently to himself.

“I think I have a right to answer first,” Zeke said. He nodded to Yelena. The latter walked away and back to the kitchen. “Why are you here? Don’t tell me you’re here for the convention?”

“What if I am?”

Zeke spared a small grin. He leaned back on the sofa and looked to the side, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. “And do you have plans of investing?”

Millions of dollars. Those three words echoed in Levi’s head. He didn’t have that money and he most likely never would.

Zeke didn’t give him time to speak. “Figures,” he muttered. “So why did you come here?” He asked in a clearer voice.

“You invited m---”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t here already,” Zeke said.

Yelena chose that moment to come in between them, a wine bottle on one hand, two wine glasses on the other. Her movements were too casual, the fine dining positions of a while ago seemed almost like a facade.

Zeke gave a nod in thanks. “Sit where you’re comfortable.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She settled on one of the sofa chairs, a comfortable distance between them. She mirrored Zeke’s own expression, a mix between mocking and expectant.

It only became harder to speak. When Levi was weighing between speaking up and staying mum, he found, as painful as it was to continue speaking, the outcome seemed more desirable.

At least in his head.

“What’s wrong? Can’t tell me why you visited my convention?” Zeke took a sip of the wine. “Unless it’s something… controversial? Embarrassing? Offensive?.”

Levi felt his skin crawl. Not completely in control of his body, he almost feared his facade cracking and not noticing it. He cleared his throat. “I was going to speak.” He paused, using that moment, to meet Zeke’s eyes. “It’s about Hange.”

“What about my Hange?” Zeke had put too much emphasis in those last two words, it seemed almost out of place. In one sleek movement, he straightened up on his seat and tightened his grip on his wine glass

It was as if Levi was walking on Zeke’s territory, completely unwelcome. And Levi was starting to notice that. He shook his head and softened his voice, a subtle peace offering. “I had plans for the emotion alarm, I wanted to discuss them with Hange, get her opinion---”

“Erwin hasn’t told you yet?” Zeke put down his wine glass. “We’re terminating the contract.

It was like a ton of bricks fell on him. His stomach followed suit. Levi went for his wine glass and took a long sip which quickly turned into a gulp then he let out a cough. Water would have done a much better job to clear the tickle in the throat, the pang in his chest and the hollowness in his chest that followed. But he wasn’t going to ask for water in Zeke’s territory yet.

A ninety five percent chance of termination. Erwin had said back in their meeting.

“So it’s final?” Levi asked. The crushing disappointment had been enough proof that Levi had been vouching on that five percent.

Zeke nodded once. “Hange won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll find another developer for her to work with.��

“I was working on some plans. They’re suggestions I was hoping she’d consider. If I---”

“Levi, can you send it over through email? Do you have to talk to her?”

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. He bent his head down almost immediately, focused on his shaking hands that were only gripping his knees tighter. He dug his nails into his knees, as if that would be enough to stop the shaking. “No, I don’t need to.” It could have come out as an exhale or an actual response.

“Well, that makes things easier. You know, she doesn't want to see you.” Zeke’s voice was painfully casual.

Levi looked up again, regretting it almost immediately. Zeke had a look of triumph on his face. It had only served to piss Levi all the more that Zeke had tried to hide it behind a nonchalant face. Seeing the small smile that decorated his lips, Levi dug his nails deeper into his knees. “Then why?”

“Why what?” Zeke pressed. “Why doesn't she want to see you?” His voice was getting colder and colder with each word. They twisted into an almost malevolent sneer.

“Why invite me here?” Levi asked, his voice clipped. Grappling with both Zeke’s attitude and the revelation on Hange’s feeling, Levi was finding it harder to speak.

“So you came because you were invited then?” Zeke took another sip. “And how were you invited?”

Does he expose Hange? And maybe Levi had taken too long vacillating.

Zeke had ended up answering the question himself. “An email? A support ticket with a flyer? Spam mail?” He took another sip. “You and your company have your very techy love alarm. And I have my own version too, my very old fashioned love alarm.” He gestured in front of him, right at Levi. “And it’s ringing in front of me right now.”

It took a few more seconds for Levi to understand it.

Zeke was either impatient. Or probably he thought Levi was a total idiot. He bent forward, leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his wine glass on the wooden table with a loud clack.“Tell me, why would you go all the way here, over a fake email?” he asked. “Her name really was enough for you to book a plane ticket and fly across the ocean?”

Levi didn’t respond.

And it looked like Zeke didn’t need an answer anyway. He waved one hand in front of him and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know, there are meetings that could have been emails yet you still chose to take a plane and come here.”

“Do you want me to write an email?” Levi asked.

Zeke shrugged. We don’t need your input. This project...it’s mine and Hange’s.”

Yours and Hange’s? He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, as if that slow and subtle movement had been enough to quell the fire in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s our project. It’s my gift to Hange.”

What does that make me? Levi didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t even want that instinctive jaw drop, the twitch in his mouth that followed to expose what the hell he was thinking.

“You’re merely someone paid to do the work.” Zeke continued, as if he had heard Levi's silent question.

Levi didn’t even feel it. He wasn’t even completely aware it happened until Zeke’s eyes widened for a split second in surprise, then narrowed again, shifting instead to one could have been pure fury.

But Levi didn’t care. Even when looking down had revealed, he spilled wine all over the lush carpet. The wine glass had hit the table, scattering pieces of broken glass on the table and over the floor.

It would be a bitch to clean up. Levi didn’t care about that either, it wasn’t his mess. It wasn’t his fucking presidential suite.

Zeke just had more practice in the diplomacy department. “Why do you feel it necessary to stand up and cause such a ruckus?”

The calmness had Levi’s blood boiling more violently inside him. He could only be grateful that the breaking the wine glass had released some of that pent up energy.

Zeke was only making it harder and harder to stay still. “I’m only stating facts. The money I put into it makes it mine. The fact that you’re being paid to do it. The fact that you even signed an employment contract relinquishes all ownership you have of all the projects you do in the company. You of all people should know that. I can’t even believe I need to school someone like you on this. You can’t even keep yourself together.”

Levi looked away, back at the view of the balcony, the glowing city. How much of it was owned by people who knew nothing about construction, architecture or just the hard work that went into even making such a view possible? A tiny injustice that surfaced in Levi’s mind as he let Zeke’s words sink in. “With all due respect... ” His last few words came out softer than expected. But Levi had seemed almost confident with them. “...You know jackshit about coding or psychology.”

Soon, Levi gripped enough of that new found confidence to take control of the conversation. “You know nothing about how any of that shit works. You didn’t stay up all night working on that damn application. I’ll fucking bet my whole life savings you don’t even know how this application works.”

“Ackerman, watch your mouth!” It was Yelena who spoke, looking as if she had just recovered from shock, eyes wide, her own wine glass on the table.

Levi cleared his throat. “Once again, with all due respect.” He was mildly aware then, that he may have raised his voice. Zeke was surprisingly—almost admirably calm. He put one hand as if to stop Yelena and spoke up. “And does ‘knowing jackshit’ make me less of an owner?”

That was a question that Levi couldn’t answer. He regretted losing control. In shock, or in some punishment which only the inner workings of his mind understood, Levi could only stand still, unable to even sit back down.

Zeke stared at him accusingly. “Mr. Ackerman…” he started. “You don’t believe there’s any dignity in the labor of moving money around? Investing and reinvesting?”

Levi felt shame wash over him.

It was a strange state to be in. There was more than enough dignity in being a billionaire, in being one of the top one percent who just bought and sold whatever they got their hands on. It was an inarguable fact that society thought highly of the top one percent regardless of where they got their money. Yet Zeke had a way of speaking that made Levi reflect the validity of his own words, any disrespect or any backhanded insult he could have been sending to anyone else.

Levi knew he was being manipulated but he couldn’t seem to point out how.

Maybe it had been the way Zeke had opened his eyes, his face a mix of confusion, hurt, with a hint of derision. Or maybe everything had been Levi’s imagination and once again he was faced with the prospect that maybe he didn’t mean it.

“That…” That wasn’t what I meant.

At that point, Zeke had stood up and at that difference of height and difference of social status, Levi had to bite his tongue, not to lose his composure.

Zeke though seemed to know he had taken control of the conversation. “You’re trying to cover your ass?”

“Cover… my ass?” Levi said that last word with a little more venom in his mouth. Somehow, the eloquent Zeke suddenly putting so much force into one single curse only added to the tension of that moment.

“Trying to justify your own mistakes by emphasizing your own superiority. It’s a very common tactic. You’re not the first to employ it.”

“I never---”

“You should be thanking me. I’ve been treating you fairly, paying you for your hard work. And on top of that, I’ve tolerated the transgressions, even putting more money unnecessarily into covering this up.” Zeke said. He walked towards the kitchen island, pulling an envelope from next to the telephone and slamming it on the counter. He wasn’t motioning though for Levi to come.

Levi preferred to stay frozen, just standing between the sofa and the coffee table. But when Zeke opened the envelope, pulling out pictures, and a few pages which he waved on the air and slammed on the table, Levi’s curiosity peaked.

Levi covered the distance in so short an amount of time, he never figured out if he seemed too desperate.

In hindsight, it wasn’t important. The contents of the papers, the pictures bundled together by paper clips had only been a more pressing matter.

Zeke’s words only confirmed it. “You went on a road trip up north on Hange’s birthday?”

“We did,” Levi said. There wasn’t much else he could have said to deny it. The evidence was too overwhelming— blurred pictures, screenshots of comments online in threads, subthreads, all speculating Hange’s side relationship.

“No use denying it. Yelena made a call to our employees in our estate up north. They mentioned Hange’s companion when she visited.”

“But we didn’t do anything…”

Zeke raised one eyebrow as if he had caught them in the act. “I’m not accusing you of it. But what would you say in your defense? When the Love Alarm rings, when you book a double room in a motel and when you’re together, almost inseparable in all of these pictures,” Zeke spread the photos on the table, shots of them in the motel, in the train station, in Zeke's house. “Hange isn’t a high profile person. It never made the news, Yelena and I made sure of that but people talk, anyone familiar with the tech world and particularly interested in it, would know how our family looks like."

It was funny, how anger could so easily sour to shame. At that moment, Levi considered disappearing an almost welcome development. Zeke pushed the pictures nearer to him, in one messy pile, the screenshots on comments, mentioning words like ‘misters,’ ‘paramours,’ ‘who’s the man???’ “We purged the internet of all photos, no names. Some people repost but I have people watching and reporting. This isn’t cheap.”

I’m sorry. Levi’s first instinct was to apologize, the adamance of a while ago almost completely forgotten. But sorry’s wouldn't work. “How much? I’ll pay what I can.”

Zeke scoffed. “Can you?”

Levi couldn’t think up much to say. He scanned his eyes over the comments at first to feign business, an excuse not to speak up. The more he looked, the more engrossed he got at lines of comments. Others towards him, then as he turned the pages, they were all towards Hange.

Slut. Whore. Low life. Cheater.

“I’ll pay what I can,” Levi said.

“How much are you willing to shell out? A hundred grand?”

That was a huge chunk of Levi’s annual earnings already. He wasn’t one to disclose salary though. He kept his mouth a thin flat line and nodded.

Zeke shook his head. “I’ll be generous, considering all the inconvenience you’ve caused both of us. While you're here, humor me,” he said. “I may not be a coder or a psychologist but I’m sure, there are things I can teach you. If you’re willing to shell out a hundred grand, let’s gamble with it. I haven’t had a good game in a while.”

“A good game?”

Zeke turned to Yelena. “Can you be a dealer again?”

“You plan on playing heads up?” Yelena asked,

“We have a table in one of the private rooms, why not?”

“Heads-up poker?” Levi clarified. There was only one game heads up that the two could have been referring to, mentioning terms like ‘deal.’

Zeke didn’t even bother to answer the question either for lack of consideration for Levi or just an expectation that Levi may have understood.

Levi didn’t live under a rock and he was very much familiar with the game. He had played a few games on online poker sites back in college.

Still, he moved a little sluggishly behind his two companions. Levi could have just been a little too wary or Zeke could have been out for blood.

The stakes then and there were completely different. For one, he had never bet almost a year’s worth of his own salary on a single game. He had never played with anyone whose net worth was a thousand, or maybe even a million times his own.

At that moment, Levi felt like a total beginner and it was as if hesitation clipped every single moment he managed to pull out of himself. There wasn’t too much he was expected to do but watch as Yelena prepared a few playing cards then chips.

Zeke made himself comfortable right in front of Levi. “Willing to bet a hundred grand?” he said those last words with an ominous smile on his face.

Levi sensed danger, but he couldn’t sense any proper way out either. He owed Zeke, he knew that much, whether it be for the money or the utter disrespect he had been treating him with since a while ago. Maybe he owed Zeke for more than that, for any inconvenience Zeke may have experienced at Levi having gotten a little too close to Hange.

Levi admitted, even just to himself, he had been a little too close to Hange for either of them to have been comfortable. Guilt, a sense of duty or just hyper awareness of everything all at once had Levi conceding, “Do I pay now?”

“We play with chips first,” Zeke responded.

Yelena dropped colored stacks of chips in front of them. Levi counted reds, blues, yellows, browns.

“You should have a hundred thousand worth,” Yelena said. “Do you know the colors?”

“Yes, just a bit.” Dabbling into online poker for a few months at least, Levi had enough experience to tell the browns as five thousands, the light blues as two thousand and the rest had inferred for himself from the amount of chips in front of him. He looked up to see that Zeke had a noticeably larger stack. “That looks like a lot more than a hundred grand,” Levi noted.

Zeke didn’t answer immediately and the flicker of realization came quicker, quick enough to have Levi coughing in surprise. The odds were against him.

“It is,” Zeke said as he counted his own chips, as if it wasn’t plain and utter cheating or even deception that he had a glaringly higher amount of chips than Levi. He slipped the chips towards the side and looked questioningly at Levi.

What had Hange told him back then in the golf course?

Zeke likes winning...But the way he goes about winning is like...He’s always been smart about it, always playing safe.

And what a better way to play safe than to have a larger pile than your opponent.

Zeke spoke up. “Hange and I, we’d play games with business partners while talking contracts and logistics. And Hange always said this about games. They teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… And the more I played with Hange, whether it be mahjong, blackjack, golf, or chess, I started to notice something. Games are a mirror of life, almost a clear reflection of what you deal with in business and in relationships.”

Zeke paused for a second and closed his eyes as if deep in thought. The room filled with the sound of shuffling of cards, the sound of the clack of chips as Zeke ran his hand over the brown ones, tapping them over the wooden round table in stilted and deafening movements.

“Poker is one of my favorite games. Like business, you base your decision on three things… Tells, numbers and circumstances,” He paused for a few seconds longer and he could have been expecting Levi to speak.

Levi didn’t look up though, instead using the brief silence to make sense for himself the amount of chips on his side.

Zeke spoke again. “Yelena, shuffle up and deal. We’re playing heads up. Our small blind is five hundred dollars and our big blind is one thousand dollars,” he said coldly. “I hope that isn’t too much money.”

In truth, that was enough money to make Levi’s stomach turn. Zeke’s manner didn’t look like it welcomed any protest though, so Levi merely nodded as some weak reply.

A weak nod could have sufficed as a response. Zeke turned to Yelena. “Give our valued guest the dealer button.”

The dealer plays the small blind. Levi counted five hundred dollars worth of chips and pushed it in front of Zeke.

Two cards lay in front of him, care of Yelena. Levi had played before and he was familiar at least with what a good hand would have looked like. In one swift movement, he held the cards in front of him.

Ten of Clubs and Nine of Clubs. With just one look, he knew he could complete either a flush or a straight.

If the board plays to his advantage.

Zeke tutted. “It’s not considered good practice to lift the cards. Most poker players would just raise the corner just high enough to see their own cards.” He demonstrated that exact same movement, only raising high enough that he could get the contents cards with one glance. “You’ve never played on the board?”

“I’ve played for a few months online,” Levi muttered. He would look back at that experience with little animosity. After all, a few months dabbling with bets online and just applying what little he learned from his statistics class had seemed like an overall enriching experience at first. Then and there, on the board, with thousands of dollars at stake, Levi felt utterly vulnerable. Like a beginner. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, someone with only months worth of casual experience was a beginner.

And Zeke held a glaring advantage, something Levi couldn’t so easily brush away. Levi’s own instinct, his own experience with odds had him considering raising. Just for a second. When Zeke was staring at him though, his own pile much bigger than Levi, Levi could only weigh between two decisions, fold and give up that hand or match Zeke’s bet.

It’s still a good hand anyway. “Call,” Levi said, matching Zeke’s bet.

By the way that Zeke was looking at him though, Levi knew he was probably not playing on the board properly. Zeke spoke up. “Tells. One important concept in both poker and business is tells,” he explained. “The way you carry yourself tells me you never played on the board. Am I correct?”

“Yes.” There was no use denying it but Levi didn't have to spare him a long answer.

Zeke dropped five purple chips on the table. “Raise to 2500.”

There was value in those chips, his lifestyle, his savings. And for a split second, he saw an abyss. He had spent too much on a flight ticket, a hotel room, just all the food he had been eating in that town. Then another year's worth of income on stake, reduced to chips.

By some strange instinct, by some adrenaline rush, Levi had managed to brush it away, reducing whatever stakes to the few chips on the board. And he was grateful for the power of delusion. By god, if he didn’t have at least a sliver of self-delusion, he could have folded right then.

“Call,” Levi said, once again matching Zeke’s bet. He needed to calm down. It wasn’t a loss yet, the game hadn’t even started.

There was hope in whatever cards Yelena was shuffling. She spread the first three on the table.

“We call that a flop,” Zeke said. “Just in case you didn’t know.” And of course Levi knew, he had played online long enough to pick up some terms. With the grin on Zeke’s face, a far cry from a face more appropriate for a game of poker, Levi was certain Zeke was provoking him. “I know what a flop is,” Levi said, running his eyes over the three cards.

Ace of clubs. Seven of Clubs. Eight of Hearts.

Levi started to calculate. He had 2500 dollars, a months worth of basic living expenses on the line. He wondered if it would have felt better just dropping the one hundred grand to Zeke from the start. There was something notably more painful and more terrifying about the possibility of watching his money whittle away slowly.

“During business meetings, I like to tell which topics, which specific products make my business partners uncomfortable, when dealing with stakeholders, with employees. I like to take a few quick guesses on the backgrounds of the people in front of me, to see whether they’re worth dealing with in the long term. ” Zeke explained. “How they handle pressure…”

Was that a threat? A challenge? Maybe it was. Levi was suddenly morbidly aware that he had licked his lips, that his hand shook as he took another peek at his cards.

He had a chance for a straight. But what would Zeke have? And Levi had made the mistake of looking at Zeke then.

“Another ‘tell’, your eyes widened just there. You have a pair? A potential straight? For someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, Hange does a much better time hiding than you do.” Zeke had deliberately put more emphasis on the word Hange.

If Levi hadn’t frozen solid, tensed up by the shoulders with Zeke’s almost accurate guess, the word Hange had done the trick to make Levi terribly, terribly self conscious. In an instinctive moment, Levi bent his head down, raised one hand in an attempt to cover his own eyes, only to realize a second later with his hand halfway to his eyes, that that had done worse to even show that he had something to hide.

“You don’t have to hide it. We all know already, you’re in love with Hange.”

Levi had accepted that part already. If he had been in complete denial at that moment, maybe he would have lost himself in Zeke’s accusing glare.

“Are you going to deny it?” Zeke dropped an alarming number of yellow and purple chips. “Raise to four thousand.”

Levi let out a sound, a combination between a no and a quiet huff and he matched Zeke’s bet.

“A month ago I heard from the staff in our summer house up north mentioning the man, who always followed closely behind Hange, the man who so willingly got a single bed hotel with her, the man in the train station who sat close to Hange Zoe,” Zeke said. “People talk, Levi. Did you consider that? And I thought to myself back then, maybe, it could have been a coincidence but Hange had her own tells as well. When Hange saved you from drowning, did you know she didn’t want to let go?”

Yelena put one more card down. Two of diamonds.

“This is a convenient turn card ,” Zeke commented. “If you have a nine, or a ten, you have a chance at a straight. Have you calculated?” He raised one eyebrow.

Levi didn’t answer. Hell, anything he did say could probably be taken against him.

“Hange would have. When we played, she would babble on about statistics. Everytime she held out a hand, completely beating me, she would babble all the calculations in her head. She has always been quick witted, intelligent, clever. That’s why I fell in love with her too.” He had said that part louder, more confidently and so matter-of-factly, and Levi was reminded he would never have that same confidence to say those words about Hange, even if he would have meant it.

There was a clack of poker chips. Four thousand dollars? Levi counted. He looked towards the pile next to Yelena. He had four thousand dollars there already. A total of eight thousand dollars on the table, months worth of rent for most.

From the expectant look on Zeke’s face, Levi was expecting he’d only go higher. Do I fold? But maybe with the excruciating mentions of Hange, that was something Zeke had wanted him to do. In a sliver of weak protest, Levi matched the bet, his own bet up to eight thousand dollars.

He needed a jack or a six for a straight. But why was Zeke easily dropping bets? Did he have something better?

“Let’s consider numbers in real life. Even with how you and Hange were acting, I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt. When the alarm rang, when you and Hange accepted it as truth, I realized my suspicions might be right. Hange might actually be attracted to you, she might actually love you. So what does that mean for me?” Zeke was once again playing with his chips.

Five thousand dollars worth? Levi thought loudly to himself as he counted the chips.

A bluff? Levi’s mind was racing. Zeke’s own words were deliberately or even just half heartedly disturbing. But there wasn’t much else he could do, four thousand dollars were on the line. Zeke proved to be confident at least with his own hand.

Bluffs happened, Levi played enough to be aware that people did put more than enough money than necessary just to scare people into folding. Another surge of protest later, Levi had matched the bet, putting his total bet at eleven grand.

The final card on the board was a jack and Levi didn’t have to look back at his own cards to confirm it. He had a straight. When Zeke had bet ten grand in chips, it had been much easier to call.

Soon the cards were revealed, an Ace and a King. Zeke had the strongest pair.

But Levi had a straight. He took the pot, more than a total of twenty thousand dollars, more than enough to offset his whole trip. When Levi looked up at Zeke, he regretted it almost instantly.

The latter didn’t seem at all affected by losing over twenty thousand dollars. “Circumstances, the most powerful tool but the easiest to control with the right resources. ” Zeke said, as if that had been the explanation for his own strange behavior. “It’s only natural when the person I’m married to starts running off with another man, I’d feel threatened. When she started working on the love alarm and I noticed she was happier, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. Then she was crankier than I’ve ever seen her before, then sadder. I wondered, what was our head developer doing to make Hange like that.”

Nothing. Fall in love with her? There weren’t too many things which could have fit what was starting to seem like a redundant question, so once again, silence was the best response.

Yelena spread the deck of cards over the table and Levi instead focused on dropping the new blind and appreciating the deft manner at which Yelena ran her hands over the cards.

He wasn’t in any state to be mesmerized by cards though.

Zeke’s voice echoed in the room. “Levi, I asked you a question.”

“What did I do, you mean?” Levi asked. That was the last thing he remembered and it had seemed almost redundant, not worth an explanation. Zeke shook his head. “Do you think she’s in love with you?” A strange question to ask someone, too personal. Zeke had a way of speaking that demanded answers.

Levi’s mind was working faster, vacillating between answering or not. He thought back to the ringing of the love alarm, Hange’s words up in the tower. Hange seemed happier, then crankier, then sadder, than I’ve ever seen before. “That’s for Hange to decide, right?” Levi said.

Zeke’s voice was suddenly softer as if they had released a sigh with his words. “Considering circumstances though, I was assured Hange can’t just leave.”

That last word had peaked Levi’s interest. “Leave?” He repeated.

“Even if your love alarm is correct, even if by some chance she loved you, and she didn’t love me, Hange can’t leave. I made sure of that. I’ve covered my bases.”

Covered your bases? Levi bent his head down, hiding that incredulous look that forced itself out of him.

“I paid for her research. I paid for the emotion alarm. I paid for the media embargo so your photos wouldn’t get printed.  I paid for everything, our home, our trips. Hange can’t just leave, after I put so much into this relationship right?”

Yelena dealt a new set of his cards and Levi pulled his new cards towards him and took a peak.

Eight of hearts. Three of hearts. Shitty hand with a potential for a flush.

Zeke slipped the new cards towards him. “She’s not going to leave. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, why are you still hurting yourself over this. Why don’t you give up?”

“There’s nothing to give up. I wasn’t holding on to anything.” Those words had been surprisingly easy to say. “Hange married you. I went here to talk to her, nothing more than that.”

“You could have sent an email. You could have sent it through Erwin. Why come here yourself?” Zeke’s words were suddenly ringing through his ear.

“Why are you so bothered by me showing up? You didn’t have to invite me here,” Levi said, and somehow, a cathartic release that came with those words.

The shocked almost speechless expression on Zeke’s face, a far cry from the calm, poker face of a second ago, sent a rush of confidence over Levi

Maybe there were things he knew about Hange that Zeke didn’t. Levi continued “I don’t understand why you had to go through all this trouble, covering the embargo, sending Hange away, buying the emotion alarm. Even if you didn’t cover your bases, even if you give Hange all of that, she wouldn’t have left you. She really believes she’s in love with you.” She’s a prideful prick that way. He added silently to himself.

“What do you know about Hange? You only met her months ago.”

Long enough to feel like I’ve known her my whole life. If his words could have at least been enough to ensure some happiness for Hange in the future, it was worth a shot. “You should have just trusted her. You take in the most free-loving person I have ever met as your partner and you trap her by hanging all that over her head? That’s not how to love someone like Hange.”

“Who are you to tell me how to love the person I’m married to?”

This time, it was Levi’s turn to ask a question. “Do you love Hange?”

“More than you’re capable of understanding,” Zeke answered venomously, as if it was an attack on Levi.

Somehow, of all the things, an attack on his own ignorance didn’t feel like anything at all. Levi was confident, he wasn’t ignorant. “Hange really believes love is a choice, love is freedom. And you think the best way to love her is to tie her down with money and gifts? With circumstance?”

“You can’t assume that.”

“Then why do you have to make her feel guilty? Why do you give her everything just so she won’t leave? Why are you assuming she’ll leave the moment she gets the chance?”

One hand on the table, and the table rocked, the pile of chips Levi had meticulously organized fell in one crash, the few others as they slid amongst each other, colors mixing amongst one another.

Yelena was the first to speak. “Focus on the game, Ackerman.”

“Check.” He didn't have the best hand. As the river opened up to reveal a potential for a flush, he still thought it worth a shot.

Zeke pushed a huge pile of chips to the front. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.” Almost all of Levi’s available funds.”

“Fold,” Levi said.

The button switched. Levi and Zeke dealt their blinds again. Yelena dealt another two cards. And the game continued.

Carefully raising the corners of his pair, Levi noted a three of spades and a queen of hearts. Even before Yelena had dealt the river on the table, Zeke had already pushed his pile to the middle. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.”

Levi couldn’t win, and just like the hand before, he folded.

It continued with that same pattern for the next ten hands. Zeke started to bait him, going all in towards the fourth hand, enough for Levi to lose all his savings, and Levi would fold. Hands later, Levi had lost the winnings of the first hand, he had absorbed a net loss. Zeke’s large pile was starting to seem more ominous.

Circumstances. The word started to hold more gravity as Levi reflected the unfairness of it all. Zeke wouldn't have minded putting one year’s worth of Levi’s salary in a single round, he had more than enough to spare.

You can’t win against money. What the hell was he thinking, giving up his blinds every single time. Zeke obviously bluffed a few times. No one would be lucky enough to have a streak of good hands.

But which hand? Levi thought loudly to himself, as if by some miracle, a god-sent answer could echo in his head.

“We can do this all night,” Zeke said, his composure once again collected, the exchange of a while ago forgotten.

Levi lost track of the number of hands. A quick look at his chips only made him realize he had forty thousand dollars left. Did he lose that much by just folding?

He would lose a hundred dollars that night if he continued playing but when he willed it, he realized was ready to lose that money. But the more Zeke played, the more he spammed all ins, the more urgent the loss started to seem.

It took a few more handsfor Levi to gather the courage to play, even with the stakes completely against him. Levi spared some thought to calculation, taking from Zeke’s rulebook.

Tells.

Zeke wore a poker face...Nothing there.

Circumstances

He had to do something fast, or risk losing all his money.

Numbers

Most importantly, statistics were on his side. He had opened his new hand to find a pair of aces.

Ace of Clubs. Ace of Spades. Statistically, the best poker hand. He could easily win everything back.

Then came the first three cards.

Ace of Diamonds. Queen of Diamond. Nine of Clubs.

“Raise to ten thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

Three of a kind, with the strongest cards. “Call,” Levi responded.

The next card was dealt. Ten of diamonds.

“Bet twenty thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

“Call,” Levi said again, pushing his pile of chips to the middle of the world. He couldn’t be too sure how he looked then. Were his hands shaking? It wasn’t a graceful movement for sure. He had to push his pile to the middle with three clumsy movements while Zeke did it in one elegant push.

But Levi noted the subtle way at which Zeke raised his eyebrows before they met eyes. And for one second, Levi allowed himself a long stare, a slight movement of his lips, nothing close to a smile. If that one expression would be enough for Zeke to fold and give up everything, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t.

Yelena dropped the last card on the board. An Ace of hearts.

“Raise to one hundred thousand dollars,” Zeke said, notably louder than every other time before.

Enough to make Levi jump, enough for him to doubt. He snuck another look at his cards. Four of a kind. You’re fine. Why was his heart still beating wildly? Why was meeting Zeke’s eyes for a while longer such a harrowing experience?

It’s a poker face. People do this when they play poker. Levi told himself and the longer he was able to convince himself that Zeke knew what he was doing. And maybe it had always been good practice to stay calm, even when everything was stacked against you.

“Showdown,” Yelena said.

Or maybe Zeke just wasn't that connected, especially since nothing much was at stake for him.

It could have been all those guesses, or it could have been the ugly one that opened up in front of them right then and there.

And it looked like Zeke had figured it out first. “Have you heard of the term bad beat?”

Levi was taking longer than usual to make sense of the cards, much slower than usual and maybe it had been the exhaustion of calculating the past almost countless hands.

“There is roughly a four thousand to one chance of getting a four of a kind. But sometimes, people have something better than that… Not often but… It’s still worth considering.”

Something better. And when Levi was considering every hand better than a four of a kind, it became much easier to scan the river then Zeke’s hand for the answer.

Zeke had two cards: King of Diamonds and Jack of Diamonds. A Royal Flush.

“There’s a six hundred thousand to one chance of actually getting a royal flush. First one in my life.” Zeke could have been genuinely amazed, but that big ham reaction had been more than enough to piss Levi off.

It made it difficult to sit still.

“When you consider circumstances, you introspect, you strategize and you pray for a little luck,” Zeke said. “Believe me, you had every other chance to win before. I went all in with the worst cards and you folded every single time. Are you that terrified of losing a few thousand dollars?”

Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Levi corrected in his head. An annual salary’s worth. And maybe that was the point Zeke had wanted to make. By circumstances alone, Zeke had manipulated Levi's choice.

Zeke smirked. “Circumstances rely on luck too and luck is a funny thing. Even if you play everything correctly, you can still lose. Life’s unfair isn’t it.”

“You had less to lose than I did,” Levi said, his lip trembling. “That’s all there is to it. If you lost all the money, you would have put more in.”

“I would have,” Zeke admitted.

“I was playing a losing game.”

“At least you got the lesson. These are your circumstances. Every life lesson everyone should have learned from birth, life isn’t fair. I’m surprised you’re expecting that from a casual game.”

“I never said that. I knew I was playing a losing game and I expected that.” It had taken all his effort to keep his reaction unreadable, and god he wished he had managed it every other time before. “Thank you for the food. Thank you for the game. Thank you for covering for me and Hange.”

With the game over, it didn't look like he felt compelled to wipe that smug grin off his face. And there were things Levi wished he could tell Zeke, and maybe it was worth the risk. “One last thing, I don’t agree with you about relationships, businesses being like games. Loving isn’t a game. When you give all this money to Hange do you expect her to give back? You expect to be able to manipulate relationships through circumstance alone?"

“I told you Ackerman, don’t tell me how to love my partner.”

"I don't have enough fucks to give for every single person in this world. I’m not telling you how to love the person you married because I actually give a fuck about your love life. I’m only telling you how to love your partner because your partner just so happens to be Hange and Hange’s a free bird. She doesn't deserve at all to be loved like that. Don't cage her in with circumstances. Don’t tie her down with money, with a debt of gratitude.” He pushed his seat back and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.”

The sliding door wasn’t locked. He forced it open gently then too hard, enough to make it rattle, He gave one was long look at the infinity pool then leaned his arms on the balcony railings. He took a deep breath.

And that reprieve was just a little too short. It turned out Yelena followed behind him, a piece of paper in hand. “Zeke’s bank details,” she said.

That had seemed too abrupt. But really, what was he supposed to expect, a consolation prize? Hange’s location?

“It would be much easier if you paid immediately,” Yelena said. “Do you have the money on hand?”

He didn’t have the credit rating to pay that in one go. He opened his own banking application and attempted to transfer that much in one go.

Bank error.

“We accept checks,” Yelena said.

Levi had never dealt with checks. His credit card limit was far less than how much he needed to pay. And a few exchanges later, a quick google search later, Levi had figured it out. He could pay by wire transfer but by god, and just the wire transfer would cost him more money than necessary.

Levi was a man of principle though. Slip of paper on hand, Yelena’s contact details on his phone he made his way out of Zeke’s presidential, without even bothering so much as a goodbye. It looked like Zeke had retired to his own private room or study anyway. Did he need that pleasantry from Levi of all people?

On the way back to his own hotel, he took a long cut, through the hotels that connected to one another through glass pathways, a few floors above ground. He made sure to take a longer time than usual, enough time to reflect on his own shitty luck.

A fruitless reflection with a very very repetitive and depressing conclusion. That’s just how life is?

If it hadn't been for those two who had talked a little too loudly by the side, maybe Levi would have deemed it fruitless.

If didn’t look to his right to see the entrance to the casino, if he didn’t walk quickly past the slot machines, taking in the red plush carpet, he would have said it was a total waste of time. The dim room only further accentuated the lights that never seemed to come from an exact same place. The casino had a way of just letting some strange feverish state, some illusion blanket his surroundings.

Hange Zoe. The man at the front had said her name, too proudly, as if in total amazement. For a while, the dazzling casino lights had him doubting that name clipped into one brief exchange. Others seemed to be talking about her too. Then he was following the crowd.

Murmurs of Hange Zoe, none of them demeaning or admonishing. Others seemed breathless, and Levi thought it worth his time, to tiptoe just to see a good look of what they were staring at.

Fruitless.

Levi dove into the crowd, slipping his way through, bending over, moving his hand through when necessary. He never made it to the front, but he did note the messy mop of brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, bent over the table. The autumn jacket, the side profile and the glimmer of some tight lips.

Hange was deep in thought in the middle of what looked to be some poker game. Her own pile of poker chips right next to her, much larger than everyone elses. He knew her enough to make that type of guess.

Circumstances.

Levi decided it would be a waste of time. Circumstances were never his to control anyway. They were Zeke’s, they were hers.

Hange Zoe’s win again.

How many hands had she played before that?

She’s cheating.

No, she’s just lucky.

I heard she calculates every single hand.

Levi felt some sense of superiority, knowing something the murmuring crowds didn’t.

All summarized into three things. Firstly, lady luck was probably on her side, it had always been as if making up a string of misfortunes in a previous life. Secondly, she probably calculated every single hand. Third, Hange would never ever cheat.

And those would be last few thing he would allow himself be proud of. That would be the last time he would think of Hange as someone remotely his.

As Levi turned the heel and walked back to his hotel, he decided, although it wasn’t too fruitless a detour, he still regretted making that quick trip into the casino.

***

If Levi knew he would have felt like shit as soon as he came back from vacation, maybe he never would have gone on that stupid vacation in the first place.

Monday. Monday morning. Those words managed to taste bitter, even when Levi was barely forcing it out of his mouth. It could have been the fact that he barely had time to get over the jet lag or it was just way too early in the morning. Scratch that, it wasn't any of that at all.

Zeke was sitting on the couch, seeming very much unaffected by what should have been transoceanic jet lag and very much unaffected by the words that came out of Erwins house just a second ago.

At first, Levi even doubted what I heard, attributing it to exhaustion. He turned back to Zeke, no sadistic grin, no furrowed brows. He was calm, unimpressed and all business.

"Sorry… it's too early in the morning… I don't think I heard you correctly,” Levi said, an attempt at professionalism even with the trappings of shock, disbelief and very inconvenient drowsiness.

“We don’t usually invite lower management to these types of meetings… But Mr. Jaeger requested you be here, to answer any questions that might pop up...” Erwin said apologetically.

“No. Not that… You mentioned it a while ago...Why is Mr. Jaeger here?”

"We’re making amendments to the contract," Erwin answered.

“And why do you need me here?”

“He’s here to buy the love alarm,” Erwin said so casually that Levi had to clear his throat, get rid of whatever popping sensation had been going on in his ears.

My love alarm. The love alarm he worked more than half a decade on. The love alarm which he knew like the back of his hand, from the backbone of the codes to the front end bugs.

"It's for sale?" Levi spat out. There were only so many ways he could speak and so many ways he could even articulate the emotions running through his head.

Erwin cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable at such a simple question. "Initially no… we never considered selling it but when Zeke called about it last week, we thought it worth a conversation.” He turned to Zeke then back to Levi. “We were able to run through Zeke’s proposal with the higher ups last Friday, and given the generous proposal, we are more than willing to sell him the rights to the Love Alarm and the Emotions Alarm project.”

How much did he offer? Levi instinctively looked towards Zeke but he soon figured out that no matter what he said, Zeke probably would never disclose the final price. In some vague response, Zeke pulled the brown envelope on the table closer to himself. "Everything has a price,” he said matter-of-factly.

Erwin spoke up. "I did the calculations as soon as I received your call last Thursday and it looks like it would be more than enough to cover what potential earnings we expected within the next two years and more than enough for the development of another project.

Last Thursday night. The night they had met in Zeke’s penthouse suite. Was buying the love alarm an impulse decision on Zeke’s part? The timing just seemed too right.

And they only continued to talk about it, as if Levi wasn’t there. What did an engineer know about business though or about purchases as high volume as the rights to the love alarm?

For something that had taken countless all nighters over time and years of development, the process of selling it just seemed too easy. “Mr. Jaeger, if I may ask, what made you consider buying the love alarm?” Levi asked.

“Hange’s research,” Zeke said, as if it was the most obvious and the most noble reason in the world.

“And when you buy it, what then?” Levi challenged.

“I’ll work with Hange. We’ll hire new developers to fix the bugs you never fixed. We’ll further improve the product and the code and we’ll break the product down, see what else we can use to improve the emotions alarm project.” The answer was disappointing, a far cry from what Levi wanted to hear.

Your other plans with Hange. He had opened his mouth, ready to expound on the question.

Erwin though may have sensed the thick tension between them. "You have the contract?"

Zeke nodded. "I had our lawyer work on it over the weekend, a rush job. You can run through it with the higher ups and I'll have someone pick up a signed copy by this week"

"Believe me, we’re decided, you can even pick it up tomorrow," Erwin said as he opened the envelope, pulled out papers and flipped through the pages. For a second, he dropped the paperwork on the table then onto the page where the executives were expected to sign.

All familiar names from the big wigs all the way, down to Erwin. Levi's name wasn't there at all. Figures, Levi after all, was merely an engineer. He couldn't help but sense irony though in the fact that the one who knew the most about the product had no say in its actual fate.

Erwin's words only made the irony seem more glaring. “We'll use the next two weeks to do some clean up on our end, pack up the resources and work on data migration.”

By ‘we’, Levi knew Erwin would be ordering him to do that.. He couldn’t help but feel slightly cheated though. He would be basically ordered to take apart something he built from scratch, send it off and never see it again. And the longer he stared at the contract that would be ordering all that, the more desolate the air around him seemed to feel.

The product he had worked on for years, taking apart every now and then, breaking and putting back together to find even the smallest bugs, going on countless hours of overtime over, was like a child to him, a child he was unwillingly sending it away to some known.

Some masochistic part of him had him still staring at the contract, long enough still to remember his first contract when he first signed into the company, something that stayed snug into the back of his mind, unexpectedly kicking his arse then.

Ownership of Intellectual Property. Employee agrees that the Company shall own, and Employee shall (and hereby does) assign, all right, title and interest...

Everyone in the room seemed to have too much regard anyway for pleasantries anyway and never felt the need to clarify it. Levi had to rely on his own memory of Zeke saying it just a few days ago in his hotel room.

The company pays you. Any effort, ideas, projects you put into our product is company property.

And Zeke will be buying it so it will be his property.

Whether Zeke even knew how the alarm worked didn’t seem to matter to him though.“So, I guess in a matter two weeks, all server data and resources should be with Jaeger corporation.”

Erwin nodded. “We’d be happy to expedite the process. If all goes well, yes.”

When a huge sum of money was on the line, suddenly red tape was so easy to squeeze one’s way through. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay calm as they signed away the culmination of his own hard work, his countless hours of overtime, the blood, sweat and personal investment he put into that one application, all signed away in a brief second, all the red tape of a few weeks ago, non-existent.

Erwin turned to him, “If you can stay behind after the meeting, so we can discuss the logistics…”

Most days, Levi appreciated the manner at which Erwin spoke, the way he took some regard of Levi’s own time when giving orders. That day, there were too many things happening to even appreciate.

What else do you expect me to do? Say no? Hell, he had wanted to say no, but by the glaring lack of his own name on the contract, the glaring lack of regard for his own opinion on the matter, Levi could only seethe silently.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke snapped his fingers, loud enough to call Levi’s attention. “Hange sends her regards. She enjoyed working with your company a lot.” He turned to Levi and gave him a nod. “And to you too Ackerman, I just have to say we’re very grateful for your hard work and your generosity.”

What generosity? The implication that Levi had any say on commercial decisions seemed mocking.

“We’ll take good care of both applications,” Zeke continued. “And regards from Hange, she wishes you all the best with Petra.”

Petra. Levi let out a cough, letting out a subtle look at Erwin. If the latter did seem bothered, he didn’t show it.

With that, Zeke left the room, and Levi started to understand how someone could keep such a confident demeanor even with the slightest inconveniences. Somehow, having that many assets, wealth and power under one’s belt really had that paper.

The way he strode, embodied it, the way that in just a few phone calls, he had completely dismantled everything Levi had worked on, making it his own.

And when he closed the door gently behind him, leaving Levi and Erwin alone in the room, Levi was reminded once again, the love alarm, the emotion alarm, were never his, as much as he would have wanted to claim ownership.

They were never his, but suddenly they were Zeke’s. Levi turned to Erwin, narrowing his eyes, as he watched the blonde make his way to the desk. Erwin seemed uncomfortable as if he sensed the strange betrayal that something so standard as corporate procedure could bring. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up.

Two weeks. Levi was given two weeks to clean everything, migrate all data and vacate the office.

It was the company's project but it was Levi's responsibility. There was a broken partnership which somehow ended with two products sold. Yet even with all the damage dealt by that deal, the management needed some scapegoat from within the company.

Erwin had explained everything with as professional of a face as possible. With the tight lipped attempt at a grin that followed, the way he had avoided Levi’s eyes one too many times, Levi suspected Erwin knew more than he was letting on.

The photos maybe? The bug with Hange? The broken partnership? Of course someone would end up having to take the blame for giving Zeke a ‘bugged’ application.

Too many reasons, many among those rooted in some attempt to save face, in filthy office politics. And by then, Levi hadn’t been expecting too much.

That probably had been the reason that when Erwin looked back at him with a much softer expression, Levi couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, something to abate whatever emotion was threatening to let loose.

I didn’t think it was right for the mastermind behind the application to be terminated completely empty handed.

Erwin had arranged for some severance pay after the two weeks were over.

Enough to get out of the country, start somewhere else.

A job termination shouldn’t have been enough to be driven out of the country. Levi didn’t make too much sense of Erwin’s words until he had experienced it for himself a week later, through an empty email inbox after sending out the same resume to twenty companies for over thirty roles.

Have you heard of a no poach agreement? Erwin had asked back in the office.

A no poach agreement?

It’s technically illegal so this usually comes as a verbal agreement among companies. They’d note their best employees and if they have to let one go, all companies agree, they cannot hire them for a certain period of time, five to seven years. It's a 'scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' type of deal.

To keep company secrets apparently or to keep Levi from making a similar application in any other company.

If you want to continue working in the development industry, your best chance would be abroad.

Around one week left before his termination would become effective and Levi gave up on finding a development job in his city, hell even his country. Around that time he had started to clean up his studio apartment, throwing out whatever was needed.

He started looking through immigration laws, consulting when necessary. He looked through apartments in other cities, then labor laws. The severance pay was more than enough at least to get him out, and Erwin had been a big help in straightening other legalities out.

He had an extra few weeks to clean out his room, pack up his things, straighten out immigration issues and buy a damn ticket out of there.

In between, his final week at work. He had never considered leaving his job of over a decade to have ended such a long bittersweet moment. In reality, he never really had the time to appreciate normalcy and he felt some regret at that.

Migrating server data, resources, making sure everyone under him had straightened out their leaves, making sure they were assigned to new projects took time. Allowing himself reprieves in-between to just sit down, and stare at half filled boxes also took longer and more effort than he had expected it too.

He stared at the ever increasing boxes that lined his office walls for a while longer. Surprisingly, for someone so fastidious, he had a lot he needed to clean out, both inside the computer and outside.

You will lose all accesses, to emails, to chat accounts and to company property by end of day Friday. He got that same message, in different forms from human resources, from Erwin and Levi was on a strict time limit to get everything out.

In some protest, some act of empowering rebellion, Levi was taking his sweet time. He continued to reserve conference rooms, staying out of his own room as much as possible, going through each line of code slowly as if he they were all individuals all deserving of their own greeting.

He started with the backend, then went to the frontend. He looked through the pull requests and the merge requests and the fixes that would never make the next release.

And Friday couldn’t have come any faster. By then, Levi had ninety percent of  his office space cleaned out. He entered the room to find his own team lugging out some of the boxes.

100 percent done then? Levi thought to himself.

Eld was the first one to speak up. “We thought you’d need some help. We heard you only had until five to vacate the room." Yet, he had the expression of a guilty child caught taking cookies from the cookie jar at midnight.

His whole team looked similar.

Levi shook his head. "No, this is much appreciated," he said. A stiff choice of words if he did say so himself but the last few hours of work weighed on him more heavily than the days leading up to it.

He only had two hours before he lost access to everything he had worked on for years.

He held his work laptop close to himself as he watched them lug box after box out of the room.

"Eld was suggesting we go get something to eat tonight," Gunther suggested.

"That depends…" Levi started. Definitely, whether he enjoyed it depended on how quickly he could brush off that weight then that tightening in his chest. "Have you talked to your new team leads? Your new managers?" he asked, an attempt at a light conversation. He wondered if his expression betrayed his words.

Maybe they did. "Or we could wait a few days," Eld said.

"We'll see. We have a few more hours before the end of day," Levi said. He slipped past them and walked back into his office.

Shelves empty, desk spotless and even the floor shone with some unsettling gleam. It had always been spotless, he made sure of it but there had always been something melancholic about rooms that had been full for years, suddenly empty.

And until a few weeks ago, the room had felt like Hange. He had deliberately left many of the crooked books on the shelf, the crooked documents, the titled reusable paper tray and the test devices messily lined up on the shelfs because Hange had left it that way.

And the whiteboard right next to his desk which Hange had failed to clean many weeks before was suddenly wiped clean. Levi didn't even noticed he let out a sound, a mix between a gasp and a whimper when he saw Hange's list of emails completely gone, erased over.

"You okay in there, boss?" Petra asked.

"Someone cleaned the whiteboard," Levi said.

"Oluo, I told you he'd point out your shitty job cleaning the board!" Petra said, from just outside.

Oluo responded. "Well, he's not going to be using it anymore so I though--- Ow!" Some silence followed, then approaching footsteps. "Sorry sir, I'll clean it again."

"No, it's fine," Levi said, he put his hand up, as if to stop Oluo from making that quick trek back to the white board. "I'll clean up the rest. Thanks for the help."

For once, he was grateful for someone's carelessness. The white board wasn't as clean as he thought it was a second ago and maybe because he would have rather it wasn't clean.

Hange wrote in crooked lines where ends hit one another, others fell and the fonts and sizes were never too similar from one line to the other. And the closer Levi came to the whiteboard, he noticed it, one email peeking out, spared by the shoddy erasing job.

Wingsoffreedom132

Hange had multiple emails she used for testing and when Levi opened his work laptop one last time, enjoying the last few hours of access as he cleaned up folders and code repositories, he found himself looking back at the email.

Does she still use it? He asked himself

Maybe. It was worth a try at least.

He looked once again around the room, the very empty room. Then he looked back at his screen, opened the repositories that were ready to be sent out to the point person from Jaeger corporation.

Then he opened his own personal folder, the unfinished codes from the love alarm then the mood alarm then the plans, the files and on the upper left of the file 'the Mood Alarm.'

To hell, with red tape, bureaucracy and all that shit. It was his project, right at his fingertips. It wasn’t Zeke’s nor was it management. The only reason they probably hadn’t sacked him on the spot was because he was the only one who could have so efficiently organized it before they sent it off to some poor sap who worked under Jaeger corporation.

He allowed himself one rebellion, or more specifically a string of rebellions.

If he were forced by some bureaucracy to send all the resources of the love alarm and the mood alarm to Hange, he would do it on his own terms.

He disconnected from the office wifi. He opened a hotspot then he opened his own personal email. Opening an incognito tab, he transferred all the codes and resources to his own personal repository, organizing it in a similar manner.

Then copied the link and started to compose an email.

To: wingsoffreedom132@wahu.com

All the codes for the love alarm

He pasted the link right below.

All codes for mood alarm.

And below it, he pasted another link.

He waited for a few more seconds as the email loaded the attachment, the file with all the plans he had for the mood alarm, allowing himself a small smile as he imagined Hange pondering the name 'mood alarm.'

He vacillated between writing a message under and keeping it brief. Then a second later, his fingers moved for him, he didn't even realize what he had been writing until it was on the page, ending on a period for finality.

“Dedicate your heart.” He read it out loud, then he felt a pang on his chest and a twist at his gut.

Dedicate your heart to what? He didn't want Hange dedicating her heart to anything. He wanted her free, flying high, doing whatever the hell she wanted to, bound by no role, no debt of gratitude, no excuse for love.

Reach for the sky? Hell, she could probably even make it to the stars.

So he went for something that left him cringing.

Reach for the stars (or anything higher than that).

Then he added something, collateral from that rush of indignance.

Don’t let anything stop you. Just remember, I would have given you all these damn codes for free.

After sending the email, he took a few precautions. He cleared his history, his cache, his browser and he deleted the rest of the files in his laptop. With one hour before the end of day, he turned off the laptop.

“Do you need any more help?” Petra had entered the room, hands behind her back in some very faux casual manner. And she seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Levi used that moment to wipe that last line of Hange’s email, as if that could have been evidence to that bout of rebellion. “I’m done. Let’s leave the rest to whoever will be cleaning up the desk.”

Petra didn’t seem at all suspicious, or maybe she didn’t care. “That’s good. WIll you be joining us for dinner?”

Levi nodded. “Maybe my leaving is worth a dinner.”

“You’re really leaving?”

“Looks like it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I bought a plane ticket, secured a visa. I'll go somewhere, far from here, then find a job or maybe work freelance.

“I want you to stay here.”

“I wanna stay here too,” Levi admitted. “But I couldn’t even find a job.”

“I’ll miss having you here… And working with that love alarm. I really believed in the product and it made me realize my own feelings too,” Petra leaned by the window, looking worse for wear.

When Levi gave a long look, he noted maybe she had been crying. He almost felt guilty for not even struggling to fight back tears then.

Maybe his body had already reached the point of pure catatonic, pure acceptance at the hopelessness of the situation. “I’m sorry.” What was he saying sorry for? “I mean— I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Petra took a deep breath. “This is probably the only time I can say something so I’ll say it now and you know, if you believe in your love alarm, you probably figured it out already,” Petra started. “I like you, I really like you. Actually you know what, it might be love. I don’t know if that would change anything—”

“It won’t.” Levi kept his voice firm. “I bought the ticket. I organized my papers and I have a place to stay. I’m leaving.”

“For good?” Petra had on a wounded look, her mouth twisted into something similar to a pout, by her eyes were elsewhere as if she knew there was a little too much vulnerability in her voice. “So, whatever I feel, it won’t change anything?”

Levi shook his head. “I don’t think it would be fair to you if I accept your feelings. I’m in no hurry to date.” He let out a clipped sardonic laugh. “At this point, I’ll probably die alone.”

“You deserve—”

“And you deserve someone who wouldn’t decide to date you for convenience.” Maybe Levi had been a little too frank at that moment.

Petra didn’t respond, her mouth frozen in a tight lipped line.

“The love alarm will be back so maybe you can use that to find someone else whose alarm rings with yours,” Levi continued, his voice deliberately gentler. “Or what about growing something organically, without the help of that stupid app. I honestly think, sometimes the love alarm causes more chaos than actually fixes things.” He shrugged. “It depends on the circumstances really.”

Circumstances he probably would never understand. He turned back to the black screen and reflected for a long painful moment about it. He was a slave to circumstance.

They were silent for a while longer and Levi used that time to recover, willing himself not to meet Petra's eyes.

She broke the silence a few seconds later. “We’ll meet you by the gate for dinner?”

“I’ll see you then, just give me an hour or so,” Levi said, checking the clock on his phone. He had a little more than an hour left before EOD. “Or just text me when you find a restaurant.”

It took a little longer to convince Petra to leave and it had ended with them having to text Levi a familiar restaurant name.

Levi had taken his time doing nothing at all, just sitting on his office chair in his bare office room. He counted down the minutes on his phone until five. A few times he had even stared at the seconds counting down on the digital clock view on his phone.

Around a minute past five. He booted his laptop again, typed out his email and password.

Access Denied. Please contact your IT Administrator.

At exactly five in the afternoon, he lost access to the system. He took a deep breath and let reality weigh him slowly, then sink deep into him in one swift sensation.

The love alarm and the mood alarm were never his. Any delusion that they were his had dissipated with all the company accesses.

***

In an airport, the point past immigration is international space.

Maybe that explained that strange liberation that came with getting past immigration and walking through the gates, searching for his own. Or it could have been many things at once. He was out of his old job, out of his old environment and somehow, in its own way, it symbolized a new beginning.

Even as an international space though, some things weren’t completely unavoidable. Settling on the departure gate, Levi went through some final checklists on his phone.

He had a new bank account. He had a place to stay as soon as he landed.

And his inbox was a confluence of unread mail. Many of them were goodbyes, from colleagues, some from finance, from human resources, from his own team and he wondered how the hell people found out and what they were thinking about his leaving.

Erwin sent a few tips on taxes and getting housing loans. Petra had sent a ‘safe flight’ message with the same pleasantries of meeting up when she gets to visit.

There was one message was avoiding and he decided to open it last. He spent the first few minutes before that spamming the same thank you message to every single goodbye message.

That one other message after all, was easy to ignore, just a bank notification that money had been wire transferred.

One hundred thousand dollars, the exact money he had lost and sent over to Yelena, he realized as he opened the message and put a little more thought into it.

You have two weeks to claim it. Two weeks? The countdown started a week ago and he only had a week to claim it.

Actually, not even a week. Looking up at the boarding time, he realized he only had an hour. He could probably organize something to have it sent over to his new account. Considering timing and the logistics though was stressful enough already. And besides, his mind found it more enticing to just indulge the context behind such a large sum of money.

It could have been a scam. The amount of money though had seemed too much of a coincidence and admittedly, Levi was a still lovesick.

Don’t send me money. Just fucking talk to me. Levi whispered to himself. Just in case, just in case that was Hange.

In some indignant response, he decided to delete the message and instead, spend last few hours going through some obscure threads on the industry. Something he had been actively avoiding.

Business Jaeger Zeke Jaeger acquires the love alarm… The mogul had found a fatal bug on the love alarm…

In a noble effort to improve the efficacy and accuracy of the product, he took it upon himself to oversee development….

Head developer behind the love alarm has been terminated....

Unnamed developer. He had at least been given that much. Levi let out a sigh. For a high profile application, no one really figured out the name of the head developer. It was a thankless job but Levi never thought too much about the glory of it.

And at that moment, he could only be grateful for the anonymity, whether or not Zeke had done it deliberately.

Plane ready for boarding.

They would be starting with first class passengers first and Levi knew he had more than enough time to take a trip, to the farthest trash can, yet still something near enough to catch the flight.

He unzipped the front pocket of his backpack, pulling out a small sim card pin. He poked it, pulling out the tray, noting the bronze sheen of the sim card. It had taken him a few tries to hold the small card between his fingers and a few more tries to bend it between his fingers, bend it to the point of unusable.

He pocketed his phone and quickly made his way back to the boarding gate.

No bank account. No phone number. He wondered why he went through that much of an effort to destroy everything.

Maybe just for an attempt for a new beginning. Or maybe because he didn’t want her to find him.

The more he thought about it though, the sooner he realized he wanted her to find him. He just thought it better to assume that she wouldn’t even try.

[justablobfish]

Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

Day 13 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

______

It's going to be Jaskier’s second time visiting Kaer Morhen. 

Two years ago, Geralt had asked him only a few days before they were scheduled to separate for the winter. It had all been rather sudden and the whole season had passed in a blur of anxiety and excitement.

He hadn't even met the whole family then, Geralt's little brother Lambert hadn't made it to the keep that year. Then, the year after, Jaskier got delayed by his family until he couldn't make it to the keep anymore; the path had already snowed over. 

This year though - this year Jaskier is determined to make the most of his time at Kaer Morhen and charm his way into the hearts of Geralt's family until they can't imagine winter without him anymore. 

Step one is to make a good first impression after the Wolves haven't seen him in so long. And the easiest way to do that is to get the perfect welcome gift for everyone scheduled to be there. 

He comes across the first gift mere weeks after the snow of the previous winter has melted. After the tedious experience with his parents he decides to spend some time in Oxenfurt to recuperate. 

In his favorite dingy little bookstore he finds the perfect present for Eskel. 

Yes, yes, a steamy romance novel might not necessarily be the best way to prove himself to his lover's family, but the cover of the book shows your usual handsome warrior with very revealing clothing clutching a swooning damsel in distress in his overly muscular arms. Except this protagonist is drawn with an enormous scar covering the left side of his face. 

He's extremely handsome. So is Eskel, of course, but whenever Jaskier tells him as much he just dismisses the compliment. With this book though, Eskel will have to believe him that scars are seen as attractive by quite a number of people. Why else would they draw the cover like this? 

His second gift he also finds in a bookstore, though this place couldn't possibly be more different than where he found the book for Eskel. 

The "Ye Olde Books" in Toussaint sells only the most esteemed antiquities to rich noblemen who never intend to read them and only display them to prove their supposedly good taste and to exaggerate their riches. 

Jaskier quickly determines the oldest book the store has on offer. It's still younger than the recipient of the gift, of course, but the fairy tale stories it holds should still be similar enough to the stories that must have been popular when Vesemir was a child. 

After the events of the last winter Jaskier at least managed to guilt trip his parents enough that he has no trouble paying for the delicate tome. 

As for Lambert, Jaskier didn't meet him the one year he spent at Kaer Morhen, but he and Geralt ran into the younger Witcher on the Path once. It was a brief encounter and Lambert didn't seem to particularly like Jaskier. 

Geralt reassured him afterwards that it's nothing personal and that Lambert doesn't like anyone. 

Even though they couldn't possibly be more different, Lambert somewhat reminded Jaskier of himself. Jaskier is happy with his place in the world now, but he had to carve it out for himself, which hadn't always been easy. He remembers a time when he, too, felt trapped in the life he was born into, never good enough to satisfy his parents or to become a person in his own right, not just the heir to a legacy he wanted nothing to do with. 

So the bitterness Lambert carries around with him feels very familiar. 

His third gift, therefore, is just as expensive as Vesemir's and on top of that requires a large amount of convincing to work out. Luckily, Jaskier has practice annoying someone enough until they agree to anything. He spent most of his life perfecting the skill with the involuntary help of his lover.

By the time winter comes around again, the specially commissioned Gwent card will have started distribution. Though of course Jaskier will carry a copy of the new Lambert hero card with him as well and present it to Geralt's younger brother. He's made sure it would be stronger than the White Wolf card that became popular in recent years. 

Ciri's gift is easy enough. Jaskier simply buys the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear he can find. Ciri is going to roll her eyes at him and claim that she isn't a kid anymore, but that's exactly what makes it the perfect present. With all that destiny business, the kid forgets far too often to allow herself to be a child sometimes. 

How to get this monstrous thing, which is nearly as tall as Jaskier, back to Kaer Morhen is an entirely different story, though… 

The gift for Yennefer isn't hard to find either once he meets up with Geralt and travels with him again. In a run-down little general store in a village in the middle of nowhere, in the furthest corner of the shop, hidden under a fishing net and a set of gardening tools, lies the most atrocious knitted sweater Jaskier has ever seen. There's no reason to abandon old traditions, even if he and Yennefer don’t meet up at Oxenfurt anymore. And in case Yennefer doesn't attend Kaer Morhen this winter, he'll simply keep it around until the next time they meet. The knitwear is so incredibly ugly, it would be a shame to waste it. 

Geralt informs him one day that Lambert will bring a plus one. Not a boyfriend or close friend or anything, just a superficial acquaintance. The fact that Lambert risked his own hide to save the man's life is - apparently - entirely coincidental and without meaning. It's just that this other Witcher of the Cat school has no other place to spend the winter. Nothing more. 

Geralt calls his little brother an emotionally constipated idiot and Jaskier can't help but burst out laughing at the hypocrisy. 

Jaskier isn't sure whether to get this Aiden a gift as well since he never met the man, but as so often in his life, fate takes matters into its own hands. 

He's perusing his favorite clothes store in Vizima when he finds the most beautiful scarf. It's big and woolen and perfectly flashy. Every handspan or so the pattern and colours change completely. All in all it shows every colour of the rainbow. 

That is not the gift for Aiden, of course. But it's going to look great on Jaskier, especially since Geralt still insists he wears that old grey winter cloak. Granted, the cloak is warm, but oh so boring looking. The scarf will be just the right accessory to add a bit of color to his winter wardrobe. 

The gift for Aiden he comes across as he leaves the store. A little boy, who must be the owner's son, sits at the side of the road and busies himself with thread and needle. 

Curious, Jaskier steps closer and finds that the boy is attaching pieces of felt to a simple hairband. 

Once the kid is done he puts the headband on and the felt pieces stand up in such a way that it appears like the boy has kitten ears growing out of his head. 

Jaskier considers for a moment but then decides that if this Aiden is voluntarily hanging out with Lambert, he must have a good sense of humor. He buys the headband off the boy and heads back to his and Geralt's inn room. 

Maybe it's because he's traveling with Geralt and can't really go looking for a gift for the White Wolf, but by the time their departure for Kaer Morhen rolls around, Jaskier has a little something for everyone, except Geralt. He doesn't even have an idea what he could gift to the man. Anything practical like a new whetstone, better armor or a fancy dagger is something that Geralt is far better equipped to pick out himself. Jaskier has little knowledge about such things. 

And while Jaskier has spent the last twenty years of his life convincing the big oaf that he deserves pretty things every once in a while, too, Jaskier can't think of anything that wouldn't just be in the way when they eventually set out on the Path again. 

The end of autumn creeps closer and closer and Jaskier’s head stubbornly remains empty. It shouldn't be this hard to think of something that Geralt would enjoy. After all, Jaskier has known him for over two decades now. But it seems like everything he could get his favorite Witcher he has already gotten him at some point during their travels. 

He still has no idea when they pass the last village on the way to the Witchers’ keep. 

Or when they start making their way up the mountain path. 

Maybe there's a pretty rock he can pick up? 

What? No, that's a dumb idea. He's not just gonna pick up a random rock just because he's desperate. At this point he'll just have to accept the fact that he has no gift for Geralt.

They reach the keep after two days of tedious climbing - not something Jaskier missed from his last visit - and are greeted at the gates by the other Witchers. Geralt's family members each welcome Geralt with a short hug and a pat on the back, while another man, who must be Lambert's tagalong, awkwardly stands to the side. Vesemir and Eskel nod at Jaskier courtly, Lambert only grunts at him. 

Jaskier makes eye contact with Aiden who rolls his eyes at him apologetically over Lambert's behaviour. 

Then Geralt brings Roach to the stables and they all quickly make their way inside. 

In the large dining hall they meet Yennefer and Ciri. Apparently they only came here a day earlier via portal, making Jaskier and Geralt the last to arrive. 

"I have welcoming gifts!" Jaskier addresses everyone. 

Eskel reacts to his present with eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they grow wide with realisation and wonder. 

Lambert scoffs when Jaskier hands him his parcel. He doesn't scoff again after he unpacks it. 

Aiden grins at him widely and immediately puts his gift on. 

Vesemir simply hums appreciatively. It reminds Jaskier far too much of Geralt. He supposes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. 

Ciri, as expected, reacts with a pout and the declaration that she's not a child anymore. Still, she clutches the plushy to her chest and refuses to let it go when Aiden says he'll take it if she doesn't like it. 

Yennefer snarls at her sweater and quickly turns away from the group to hide it, but just like Ciri does with the teddy bear, she clutches it to her chest protectively. 

Which only leaves Geralt. 

"I, uh…, " Jaskier stutters and stares at his empty hands. 

"Hmm," Geralt hums. "Saving the best for last?" 

He grabs Jaskier by the shoulder, turns him around so that he's facing the room. He hugs Jaskier from behind and places his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder. 

"Seems like you got me the best gift of all," Geralt hums. "Look!" 

Confused, Jaskier glances about the room. Vesemir and Eskel are sitting in a corner, flipping through their respective books. Lambert is chasing Aiden through the room, who has stolen his Gwent card and is waving it around tauntingly. Ciri holds the teddy out to Yennefer, who's holding her sweater to the bear's chest to see if it would fit him. There's nothing out of the ordinary that Jaskier can spot. 

"I don't under-" he begins. 

"Everyone's here," Geralt explains. "My whole family in one place for the very first time. I couldn't possibly ask for more." 

[mysimparchive]

TITLE: If You Spend The Night I’ll Loose My Mind

SHIP: Twice/Mr Compress Jin Bubaigawara/Atsuhiro Sako

RATED: T

SUMMARY: When Jin shows up at Atsuhiro's stoop at 3 in the morning, does he really have the best intentions in mind? Atsuhiro suspects being alone is more than Jin can deal with at the moment, even if all he really craves is silence.Prompt: Twice and Compress spend the night together after experiencing something traumatic

ADDITIONAL INFO/WARNINGS: Includes references to pain killers and alcohol, improper use/abuse of illicit substances. Big focus on the fact that Compress only has one arm. References to Magne’s death

AO3 Link

Full story under the cut

It was past three in the morning, and there was someone knocking at his door.

A part of Atsuhiro had a feeling of what- or rather who -was responsible for that knocking. Among his ring of associates, the list of suspects was fairly limited. It did not stop the dread forming in his gut. He was not still awake at this hour because he wanted to entertain company.

As such, he sat still for a moment, taking a calming breath. See, he’d only just lowered himself on to the compact couch in the small but tidy living area of his similarly compact loft. There was a tall glass of water and a vivid orange pill bottle sitting on the coffee table in front of him. His hair was damp following a shower, and he was clad in a bathrobe as the ordeal of undressing, showering, and renewing the bandages around his missing arm had collectively caused a bit of a headache. He had not been mentally willing to go through the ordeal that was attempting to properly clothe himself again one handed and in miserable pain. Meanwhile, the robe had been hanging on a hook so conveniently near..

Another series of raps against the door, this time more persistent.

He sighed again and stood, sliding towards the door, and peering through the peephole even if it felt like a redundant gesture. He closed his eyes in sharp irritation, and quickly moved to open the door with his missing arm. Ignoring the throb of pain in his severed limb, he tried again, this time with his right.

It swung open, revealing Jin, who other than the blatantly obvious Twice mask covering his face, was in his civilian clothing, hands in his pockets, staring at his feet guiltily. It was almost as if he hadn’t been the one pounding at his door with the incessant beat of a maniac at an underground rave, and when Atsuhiro finally opened the door he just happened to be standing there. Coincidentally.

“Come inside,” Atsuhiro said urgently, granting Jin a pathway to shuffle through the doorway. He would hope to the powers that be that all of the neighbors reamined asleep and unperturbed by the sound issued by his colleague’s slamming fists. Hoping that no one had witnessed the nationally recognized visage of a League of Villains member standing at his doorstep.

“It’s three in the morning, Jin” Atsuhiro accused somewhat pointedly. Given the hour, and the day he was having thus far, he had more trouble than usual keeping the annoyance from seeping out.

“Really?” Jin mumbled first, then added slightly more expressively, “ Not like you were sleeping anyway. ”

Atsuhiro’s jaw clenched and he braced himself, willed himself to keep calm.

“You can’t just show up here like that,” he gestured at the mask.

He didn’t wait for a response, just strode back towards the couch, the left sleeve of his robe flapping emptily as he moved. He snatched up the pill bottle which had been resting nearby. Something for the pain , Giran had promised and for once there was not a trace of that teasing sleeze in his voice. Instead, there was something akin to actual sympathy that had sent an inexplicable blot of anger coursing through Atushiro.

Now, he was standing in his suffocating living room, dutifully ignoring his uninvited guest, and struggling to get the lid off said pill bottle with only one hand to aid him in the task. That was when Jin's shoes suddenly faded into his line of vision, and a hand landed on Atsuhiro's. Somewhat clumsy fingers eased the bottle free of his own clammy hand, and opened the cap with such a practiced ease, it felt like a smack to his face.

Jin handed back the bottle, again something apologetic about the gesture.

"Thank you," Atsuhiro said quietly after a beat.

The rest of the process went relatively smoother. It was easy enough to fish out one of the capsules buried inside, and wash it down quickly with the water from his glass.

He’d closed his eyes as he’d swallowed the pill, leaning slightly against the arm of the couch. For a moment, all he could fixate on was the sensation in his fingers. Those in his left hand, as if it too was brushing up against the fabric of his furniture to help him balance. There was a ghostly pinch in the tips of those extremities. As if the blood flow had paused momentarily and now it was picking up again.

Brown eyes fluttered open to land on Jin’s mask. There was usually at least one mask between the two of them in these moments. More often than not, it was his own. Tonight he was the vulnerable one, leaving every crease and dark shadow under his eyes exposed to Jin’s probing stare. If only the damn pain pill would kick in faster.

A third sigh.

“Why are you here?”

Jin continued to shift in that sorry way before finally speaking, “I thought someone should check in on you. Make sure you’re okay.”

It was a trying situation and the miserable note in Jin’s voice had him second guessing the rapid irritation pounding in his head. Of course, Jin’s intentions were always good ones. That was the common thread between all of these encounters. Except that he felt the motivation didn’t just end there.

If he had to warrant a guess this was just as much about Magne as it was his arm. If not more so. There was a pang in his chest at the thought.

“So… How are you?” Jin said when it became apparent that Atsuhiro would not be leading this conversation.

“I’m tired , Jin, it’s three in the morning,” he repeated as if it hadn’t been pointed enough the first time he’d brought up the fact.

“Oh yeah..”

A more mannered guest would take the hint and leave. Atsuhiro didn’t believe that Jin was as oblivious to these cues as he often pretended to be. If he wasn’t leaving now, it wasn’t because he misunderstood. It was because he didn’t want to be alone. And that deep seated longing for company outweighed his fear of coming off as a rude nuisance. Atsuhiro was apparently the only wimp in their team that couldn’t kick his sorry puppy-dog eyes to the curb.

Even in this state.

He fixed another look at Jin, catching on to a subtle tremmor coursing through the other man. A symptom of stress he hadn't noticed before too preoccupied with his anger, his pain, his need to get the damn cap off the pill bottle.

After a moment Atushiro broke the silence.

“Top left cabinet in the kitchen. Fetch me what you find.”

….

The spirit the two of them were sharing, plus whatever the hell Giran had slipped him, nearly had Atsuhiro forgetting he’d ever had arms at all. His head was spinning out in this awfully heady way. Or was that just the late night hour? He hadn’t slept in what felt like days.

The only solid in that moment had been Jin’s shoulder beneath his head.

Jin was talking to Atsuhiro, telling him a story. Or was he simply arguing with himself? It was difficult to keep track. Meanwhile, Atsuhiro’s glazed eyes were fixed on the satin sleeve where it hung flatly off the edge of the couch cushions.

“--She punched the damn thing out of my hand, and I thought the crash was gonna wake up the entire league. I wasn’t worried at all! And then she told me that waffle irons aren’t actually meant for waffles, they’re supposed to be used for sandwiches. I’m not a gullible guy-- I’m so fucking gulible . Shut up-- And, and for a minute I actually believed it because of the look on her face. She’s always so full of shit-- Was full of shit, asshole-”

The speech had abruptly cut off. Atsuhiro’s brain realized with only partial dely.

He shifted from his languid position, staring up at Jin. Only the lower half of the man’s face was exposed. The skin tight mask rolled up to the bridge of his nose so as to ease the drinking process. And he’d drank like it was his last night on earth, pounding back shot after shot of amber liquid, far out pacing Atsuhiro who was still somewhat aware that mixing even one shot with the Giran-pill had been a bad idea. This thought had briefly occurred to him as he’d poured a second glass after what felt like hours, but had likely been barely fifteen minutes later.

The visible half of Jin’s face was pale and unshaven. His previously flapping mouth had transformed into a thin trembling line.

“Enough,” Atsuhiro commanded softly, “Come here.”

He moved first, assisting Jin to fall into his chest. Slowly the man folded inward, the quake in his shoulders returning and vibrating against Atushiro’s body. He wrapped his available arm around Jin, hand landing at the base of his neck to card fingers through the stiff blonde locks.

….

At some point in the night Jin had stopped crying and began laughing.

At which point, Atsuhiro had pressed his lips against the other man’s cracking ones.

Something about that maniacal sound had been even more grating then the shuddering sobs which had preceded it. As they were both far too faded for the kissing to lead anywhere promising, Atsuhiro simply cherished the quiet that followed.

For one spectacular moment there was silence besides the soft sound of their mouths working against each other. He’d learned a while ago that kissing was an efficient means to shut down some of Jin’s otherwise inescapable noise. So, for the next period of time they sat and kissed, and Atsuhiro cherished the blessed silence.

Following this, they’d abandoned the bottle and dirty glasses on the coffee table, in favor of tumbling onto the futon which Jin had been far too eager to unfold. Atsuhiro remained in his robe, Jin in his dirty civilian clothes, something he may have argued on a different night. Then of course, there was the half drawn Twice mask...

Both of them were sluggish as a result of the substances coursing through their blood streams. Or perhaps that was a result of the deep resonating sadness the two of them had shared. Who was to say really? Either way, changing anything about the arrangement would have been an unnecessary challenge.

Instead, they settled. Atsuhiro spread out on his back, missing limb angled outward to keep it from rubbing against Jin’s body. Meanwhile, Jin burrowed his face against Atsuhiro’s neck, still dropping the occasional kiss against any piece of skin that was level with his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” a ragged whisper broke the silence that he’d dared to hope would be permanent for the remainder of the night.

“...Jin… Enough,” he murmured, closing his eyes and hoping to hell that either the drugs or sheer exhaustion finally dragged them off to sleep.

….

He awoke in the early dawn hours. Or maybe it was closer to late afternoon?

Through the fog that lingered in his brain the dimb lighting in the loft was tough to decipher.

Jin was still at his side, sleeping soundly. His mask had slipped off at some point in the night, exposing his face and a pair of raw red eyelids still shut in a dream. Atsuhiro quickly clenched his eyes as a stab of pain suddenly coursed through him. Although, it wasn’t his arm that bothered him this time.

He felt a convulsion tight in his chest and realized with some surprise that he was about to cry.

[maybankiara]

IT’S LIKE A STORY OF LOVE

pairing: Kiara Carrera x Reader

prompt: “Standing by the window, rain falling, I want to have you full in my embrace and tell you, even when I’m born again and love you, even then, will you be with me?” - 선물 Gift by KREAM (from my song prompt list)

summary: It takes you nearly ten years, but getting Kiara to love you back is worth it.

word count: 2.2k

additional: this is tooth-rotting fluff and nothing else. beware.

masterlist

tag list

written for @kiarasflowr

You don’t believe in soulmates. You grow up believing in love, though, in two people seeing each other valuable enough to adore and cherish for the rest of their lives. It’s naive, for the most part, and idealistic for the whole part.

  (Life isn’t that simple.)

  You learn that when you’re six, and you’re told that your best friend’s parents are getting a divorce. They’re two people you've looked at as an example of a good life, as what you thought of when you played marriage with your friends.

  Your parents had to explain to you that divorce is ‘when two people fall out of love.’ The idea of love not being permanent is something new and something terrifying, but it doesn’t really matter.

  Your parents are together. They tell you they still love each other, very much, and that means that you can still play pretend, only imagine you’re your parents, instead.

  (At the age of six is also when you meet a girl called Kiara, with curly hair and a nose for trouble. Next time you play pretend, she’s the one you marry. you’re kids – nobody thinks anything of it.)

  You grow out of the age of playing pretend and love stops being something you think about. Most of your days are spent with your friends, out in the woods or at the beach, and you get that fuzzy feeling when you’re around them.

  At ten, you think of love again. You’re older now and you realise that love is more than just when two people kiss – it’s when you laugh as you twirl your friends, or when you make up fake stories to creep each other out, or when Kiara comes over to help you with homework.

  It’s love, what you feel for the people in your life. You love your friends. You love Kiara. You love people because they’re important to you.

  ‘What do you think about love?’ you ask Kiara one day.

  The two of you are at a playground, sitting on a pair of swings and watching the sun set, counting down minutes until you have to part ways.

  ‘I love my parents,’ she tells you, ‘and I love my dog. I don’t know. What about you?’

  Even at ten, you try not to be hurt because she doesn’t say that she loves you, too. Maybe love is different for her.

  (Your heart feels a little sore and you feel heartbreak for the first time, even if you won’t admit it.)

  ‘I don’t know,’ you say, because i love everyone who is important to me and that includes you doesn’t seem like the right thing to say. ‘I love my parents.’

  When you come home, half an hour later, you can’t stop feeling weird. Your mum notices and asks, so you tell her.

  She hugs you, and you know that’s love.

  ‘She didn't mean that you don’t matter to her,’ she tells you. ‘The two of you don’t view love the same way, and that’s normal. You girls are just kids. You shouldn’t be thinking about complicated things such as love.’

  (You don’t think love is complicated. It’s simple -- if they make you feel like life without them without be the same, it’s love.)

  You don’t think of love after that, because your mum is right.

  Time goes by and people in your life change. You’re fourteen when you start high school and you don’t go to the same one as Kiara. You meet boys called JJ and John B and Pope, and they’re your best friends, now. You don’t even see Kiara anymore, except on Instagram and Snapchat.

  The loss of her isn’t as deep of a wound you expected it to be if it ever happened, and a life without her in it is not that different, or worse at all. You like your new friends. you like your school. You like the way things are. But you don’t think about love now that she’s gone, and even though the wound isn’t deep, it doesn’t heal.

  You’ll always love Kiara. She’ll always be a part of who you are. People drift away from one another but it doesn’t make a change in what they meant to you – it’s what your mother tells you once, too.

  For a year, you’re with boys who call themselves the Pogues, and you’re one of them.

  You learn how to kiss, and it’s messy and sloppy and there’s a lot more saliva than you thought there would be. Maybe you don’t know how to kiss, or maybe you don’t like the people you kiss.

  It doesn’t help that you’re fifteen now, and people are starting to talk about love again.

  JJ hits a blunt one day. ‘I don’t think I could ever love anyone apart from you guys.’

  Pope grabs the grass on the ground next to his leg and throws it at the boy. ‘Shut up. You don’t even know what love is.’

  ‘Don’t you love me, too, Pope?’

  ‘Of course I do. You’re my best friend, asshole. I’m just saying you’re going to find other people to love, too.’

  You think about the guys’ words. You agree with them both – they’re your best friends, and of course you love them. Of course that’s what love is, and nothing less.

  (It’s one of the first times in a while you think of Kiara on a swing all those years ago, and you think that maybe she didn’t love you, after all.)

  ‘Love,’ laughs John B, all the way from the hammock. ‘It’s a dumb word.’

  Ironically, or maybe just poetically, it’s John B who falls in love first.

  A girl called Sarah, his boss’s daughter, joins their circle a month into the summer after the freshman year ends. She’s from the rich part of the island, same as Kiara, and she’s got John B whipped around her finger.

  Turns out, she knows Kiara. In fact, she’s best friends with the girl. You wonder if you should tell her that you miss her – you wonder whether you do miss her.

  You’re okay, you think. You’ve got a different group of friends now. Some people might be better left in the past – who’s to say the two of you would even want to be friends? You’ve changed, and she must’ve, too.

  It hasn’t been three weeks into John B introducing Sarah to the group when he tells them, ‘I think I’m in love with her.’

  ‘How do you know?’ asks Pope.

  ‘I just do.’ John B shrugs, hands on the back of his head, a lazy smile on his lips, as if being in love were the easiest thing in the world. ‘I can’t imagine my life without her. She means everything to me.’

  JJ cracks a joke, and he and Pope spend the next twenty minutes giving him shit for letting Sarah turn him soft. You’re chipping in, every now and then, but you think about a girl with curly hair and a nose for trouble. You don’t say this to John B, but you know that there’s always a life after and before finding someone you love.

  (The great part comes in-between.)

  Coincidentally, Sarah’s birthday party is on a Saturday night at the end of July, and it’s big enough that she decides to invite all of the Pogues. You know Kiara is going to be there, so you decide to wing it. If you end up talking, great, but you have no expectations.

  ‘Looking good, Y/N,’ Pope comments. ‘Catching any fish tonight?’

  You think of the last time you caught some, and how it felt to have another person’s tongue in your mouth, so you shake your head no.

  ‘Fuck that.’

  But Pope leaves and he leaves you with your thoughts, which lead you to the girl you might meet again today. For whatever reason, you like that Pope noticed you put a good amount of effort in.

  When you see her for the first time, none of the Pogues are at your side and you’re talking to Sarah, instead, who’s introducing you to her friends. Kiara comes late, sporting a simple t-shirt and denim shorts, hair in a half-up-do.

  Her eyes glaze over you and her lips stretch into a wide smile. Before you know it, she’s screaming your name and pulling you into a hug.

  (She smells exactly the way you remember.)

  ‘I can’t believe you came!’ exclaims Kiara, pulling back. Her smile falters and she seems shy all of a sudden, pulling into herself. ‘Sorry. I know it’s been a while, and I probably shouldn’t have—’

  ‘No,’ you cut her off. ‘I’m really happy to see you, too.’

  The words bring life to her face again. Kiara pulls your hand as she drags you around the place, introducing you to the people she’s been hanging out with for the past year. You introduce her to the Pogues, too, and it’s almost a surprise to see that despite the fact that she’s changed a lot, it seems as if you’ve both changed in the same direction.

  She gets on with the Pogues better than any of you expected her to. She becomes a part of the group without a second thought, as if she’s always been a part of it.

  (Your mum was right. Your feelings for the Kiara you used to know never faded – they’re only merging with the new ones, for the Kiara you’re getting to know.)

  It isn’t long into the rekindled friendship that you begin to think about love again. It creeps on you like a ladybug, and it stays on you like a wish you’d make as a child.

  You glance at Kiara, catch her smiling at whatever Pope’s saying. You get that fuzzy feeling in your stomach again, except it’s different now.

  Now you know that you don’t need her in your life, but a life with her in it is the life you prefer living.

  She catches you looking. Her smile is yours now, and you give her one, too.

  (Love pops up in your mind again.)

  When it’s winter, and everyone is holed up in the Chateau, Kiara leans against you. You pull a blanket over the two of you and feel her feet close to you as her head rests on your shoulder.

  (do we keep finding each other time and time again? If i lost you, would i find you?)

  (yes. You know you would.)

  When you wake up on John B’s pullout couch, Kiara is still curled up into you. You wonder if that’s how all friends sleep.

  You don’t have an answer.

  By the time March comes around and nature begins to grow again, you’re in love with Kiara Carrera. It’s not something that happens, instead it’s something that grows within you, too. You wake up one morning and things make sense, when the night before they didn’t.

  It’s a rainy night. You go to Kiara’s as you were meant to, for a movie night, just the two of you.

  (It’s been happening for a while now. You have the taste in movies the others don’t share – or maybe it’s more than just that.)

  You see Kiara out of the window, curled up on her bed with her knees to her chest, texting with a smile on her face. Your phone chimes – you don’t need to check the sender.

  Her hair is in two braids this time, loose and carefree, just the way Kiara’s been for the past few months. Things are changing for the two of you, slowly, and you wonder if somewhere along the line, you became more than just friends without realising. It’s the little touches, the little cuddles, the secrets and confessions whispered in the dark – it’s all for just the two of you.

  She spots you out of the window and waves, getting to her feet with the brightest smile. You know you’ll get to be close to her on her bed, maybe even hold her, but you want to do it properly.

  You want to hold her without restrictions. Without having to hold back.

  (You want to hold her like you want to love her – for the whole world to see.)

  Later that night, she kisses you for the first time. It’s soft and gentle and full of feeling and caring, and it’s more lips than tongues. It’s daring and bold but it’s kind and curious, and you realise that you love kissing Kiara. It feels like kissing honey.

  You don’t talk about it, not really, but you do think about how right this feels. Your limbs entangled, your lips on each other’s, eager to explore but eager to wait, too.

  It feels as if you’ve got the whole time in the world.

  (More than that. You feel as if you’ve got the time before and the time after, as if you’d find each other and learn to love each other regardless of what happens.)

  Kiara’s lips on yours just make you believe that soulmates might be real, too.

  ★

tagging. @jjtheangel @teenwaywardasgardian @thelocalpogue @jjmaybanky @sacredto @chasefreakinstokes @drewstarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @outrbank @activist-af @drewstarkeyobx @ilovejjmaybank @jjmaybanksbaby @mahleeyuh @starkeymarkey @nicolewithasoul

[kehideni]

I think it’s time i rant why i ship the Commander with Caithe.

And not specifically MY commander, but the general commander character. (which is why i don’t care that my Commander happens to be male)

I don’t even know where to start... i guess for clarifications:

I personally don’t feel either way for Caithe. I guess i like her but she wouldn’t be on my top 10-20 favourit character list.

When i first played Guild Wars 2(yes my main character is my first ever character) i played through with the mindset that i am this charr and i will make the choices that i think will save the most lives(lel.... later on i learned it didn’t matter). So when i plowed through the personal story of the Commander i was in the mindset of “I AM A CHARR!!! AND IN THIS WORLD OF CONSTANT BATTLE I AM THE DEADLIEST WEAPON OF ALL!” (also mild Denalien influence but Denalien is intertvined with my being so... let’s not go into that)

I LOVED that Rytlock was badass and unflinching and angry i guess in simpler way: Charr = GW2′s version of orks(WoW) which means Rytlock = Thrall but actually badass.

By pure coincidence i made the choices that made me meet with mainly charr characters and it made me believe it’s because i chose charr that i meet charr. Later on i learned that... no... i just chose the paths that made me meet charr.

Queue in the story instances from 10 to 80, and past-kehideni notices a pattern. Rytlock is not the one that your character connects to the most.

I know, the letters you get are all from Rytlock when you are a charr, but the one other person Arenanet pushes your Commander to connect with is- you guessed it- Caithe.

Twilight Arbor- now you would argue Rytlock Logan and Caithe but Rytlock leaves before you start fighting any nightmare court and Logan after just a bunch of spiders. Canonically, it’s just the Commander and Caithe. Nothing actually that i’d noticed when playing through because the Commander only asks questions from Caithe that i’d want to know anyway. However this instance literally has established a connection between the two that later on gets referenced in a throwaway speechline with someone you’ll be surprised by. We’ll get to that.

Sorrow’s Embrace- Eir, Zojja and Caithe: the Commander asks Caithe for information (of course, who else. Not like they can ask Zojja at that moment, but these are all just starting off things)

Honor of the Waves- Eir and Caithe: the Commander tells Caithe to shut up and let Eir come to the right conclusion herself which makes me laugh to this day xD (This is where my personal meme comes from “Shut up, Kyle Caithe!”)

Ruined city of Arah- the Commander sasses Caithe. Basically in the story instances the Commander and Caithe work towards the same goal, to reunite Destiny’s Edge.

Things happen in the between though: There is this quest where Trahearne and the Commander enter a vision of the Pale Tree. In there, the Pale Tree tells the Commander that they MUST reunite Destiny’s Edge and this is where Twilight Arbor greets back a bit. 

When you walk past the members you hear them talk to each other, blame each other.

Caithe however stands out because she isn’t talking with one of her friends, she talks to Faolain. The crazy part is that in this vision you are not supposed to AND can’t talk to any vision-npc.... that is except for Faolain herself. But let’s see what happened beforehand:

Narratively speaking when a character says they are alone and tired, it’s supposed to elicit protectiveness from the viewer and/or empathy.

“So here i am a bulky a** charr, why is her love life any of my buisness?” - very emotional quote from kehideni of the past

Aaaaaha... sure whatever you say Trahearne, but wait.. because here comes the kicker. The ACTUAL kicker where past-kehideni went 

“Wait jus- hold on just a minute here...”

Faolain that was awfully possessive of you, i’m a big a** charr. What competition would i be in this future-vision to you? And then the Commander says “I won’t let Caithe fall into nightmare.”

A little bit of extra:

“Pft... whatever... you’re just her ex.” says the Commander. :v

In Arah Caithe thanks you for saving Destiny’s Edge (also interestingly she is the chosen companion npc as she’s the one that resses you if you get downed) and at the end of the fight she says that all of Tyria is in the Commander’s debt. Ok ... casual stuff. She’s been thanking the Commander left and right that day. As if she didn’t drive home the fact that she’s grateful she thanks the Commander once again at the end party and also is the one to suggest the Commander should go after the rest of the Elder Dragons too.

The next you meet her is the Aetherblade path in Twilight Arbor, the narrative distances Caithe from the Commander. By this time canonically they are friends, duh. So it’s like a friend has a side the Comm didn’t know so far. Nothing interesting yet, let’s hurry on.

She attends the summit, of course she does. You can’t talk with her.

In Echoes of the Past Comm saves her, their talk is still friendly but distanced. I do want to note that Canach and Caithe are so similar in attitude xD

Tangled Paths: Comm goes up to her to talk and she says “don’t mind me” and proceeds to follow you around and friendly-mocks you as “boss”. We know NOW why, but not back then. This is important because not long before this i realised that the Comm can’t possibly be me. It’s MassEffect’s case of Commander Shepard. You controll them but they are their own character and your choices have only slight weight in the story because the Commanders’ choices are already set in stone by the actual writers. What you CAN do is write the WHY parts, and this is soon the part where my writing interferes with actual canon but you’ll see my reasonings.

When the Comm talks with Caithe she’s the most civil with them among their allies. (We later learn it was to keep the Comm. in the dark.)

The beauty of this scene is that Caithe WILL learn why a mother can’t keep their eyes off of their children.

“Is that a problem?” “Not for me.” Still can take this line as civil but kinda funny line in hindsight. (Get it? Because it will be a problem for them.)

So Caithe’s betrayal happens, and the Comm is FURIOUS!

Lol my charr is too tall, but the shot was meant to place the Comm face to face with Caithe because in the next shot she looks them in the eye and goes for the egg.

When Marjory notes that Caithe is a Sylvari the Comm goes defensive “So? What are you trying to say?” Their friend would never do that- is what narratively they want to convey, but later on in HoT the Comm reacts so harshly to her betrayal i took the wheel a bit.

I mean let’s add up what the Comm knows: Mordremoth created the sylvari, he has mental access to them, he can mind controll them, fool them if they are too strongwilled to do his bidding. Caithe is a sylvari with a strong will. If she betrayed them it’s not of her free mind. It’s like the victim-blaming when a girl gets drugged and they take her body to do as they please. Try as she might she wasn’t clear in the head but she made it clear later on that she didn’t want to betray the Comm. Why would she after all she can be thankful for to the Comm?

So what gives? Well in my mind, the only way to rectify Anet’s nonsense writing(they should really stop reading GW2 reddit forums, not a good place to be influenced with) is to give the Comm a reason to take it to heart a bit too much, say... if they were harboring feelings for her. In my mind it adds up.

So HoT happens, and Caudecus is making his move.

Where next you meet Caithe: Out of the Shadows. (fitting title for her, huh?)

I’m just gonna link the video with timestamp, that whole part is reconciling:

https://youtu.be/AABguDwhieE?t=2612

At this point the writing of GW2 seems to take a chillpill so i go with the flow. The Comm realising that he overreacted inspects himself: Why? This is the part the Comm realises that “oh sheet, they got them feels.”

Aurene hatches, Caithe is there.

The first time the Comm is voiced in LW and he jokes around with a character it’s with Caithe.

Comm: “I’d feel better if someone i knew was watching the chamber.”

Caithe fishing for the one line that would reassure her that the Comm talking with her actually means that they are ok with her now: “Someone you trust?”

Comm: “Yeah, so... could you ask Taimi to get her right away?”

Caithe relieved her relationship with Comm is safe: “You’re joking with me, i take that as a good sign.” They talk around a bit more, they are healing and that’s adorable.

Later on she thanks the Comm for letting her prove herself to them by looking out for Aurene.

Path of Fire happens, she’s like throwaway-ly mentioned by Taimi.

I was all, “Well, goodbye Caithe you got Zojja’d, it was a good headcannon while it lasted” but THENNNNNNN ARENANET THROWS ME THIS

Like... are you fkin’ kidding me. This line alone means that she’s been stalking the Commander IN STEALTH ATLEAST since they met Zafirah in Sun’s Refuge!!! THE BARE MINIMUM SHE SAW FROM STEALTH WAS THE COMM GOING IN ON A SUICIDE MISSION, HOW ABOUT SOME HELP YOU CONNIVING VEGETAB- sorry... my personal annoyance at her came out.

Back to story, after this All or Nothing happens where the Comm and Caithe are confirmed parents of Aurene. When Aurene branded Caithe only the Comm asked if she was still herself, not even Rytlock nor Logan, the actual two people who know her longest. The Comm and Caithe are constantly paralleled next to Aurene as her “champions” because dragons apparently don’t have parental bonds*sarcasm* :V

Requiem happens and Rytlock himself says he sees it now. Coincidentally as of writing this he is going through the very same trauma Caithe and Comm went through when Aurene died.

Caithe calls for Comm to return to her because she needs them, and the Comm tells everyone they should go and spend whatever time they have with people they love. Implying that Aurene is who Comm loves but then again Caithe is there too. The 3 of them were going to spend the last of their lives with each other. (not saying they don’t love the rest of the group, but had they decided to leave, the 3 would still stay together.)

As from War Eternal to till now their co-parental connection is getting stronger.

[growingstronglikeahighgardenrose]

The Christmas Miracle

Pairings: Charlotte/Sidney

POV: Georgiana

Prompt: When those blue snowlakes start falling (12 days of Sanditon challenge hosted by @sanditoncreative​

Synopsis: 'You’ll come to regret ever setting foot in Sanditon’, Esther had said. Four months after her departure, Charlotte was indeed wondering if the adventure had been worth the pain, but Esther, Georgiana and Lady Susan are determined to invalidate Esther’s statement. Never underestimate four girlfriends when one of them has been hurt by a man.

Also available on AO3

Georgiana hated the English climate.

It was cold.

It was wet.

It was windy.

And not a single beach or park could ever compare to the natural splendour of her country of origin.

And right now, she considered England the worst place on earth.

It had never been a good place to begin with. She was shipped to it like some kind of slave, forced to live and perform in England. The only difference was that her cage was a gilded one, but she had about just as much say in her life.

No, the unfairness was that over the summer, she had started experiencing joy and moments of happiness with Otis and Charlotte, and come Autumn, both had been ripped away from her.

The first by his own mistake, her heart still ached too much to pity him, and the second all by the fault of her brother.

Because Georgiana didn’t know a lot, probably not half of the story, but she didn’t need to. Sidney was a brute: he was moody, antagonistic and rational to the point of being heartless.

Yet, for some reason beyond her comprehension, Charlotte had decided to be interested in him.

And coincidentally, or rather by no coincidence at all, her best friend left shortly after news of his engagement to the blonde rat who wore a constant scowl.

Georgiana had actively avoided the woman, only seeing her during the wedding of Lord Babington and forced dinners, but she had a calculating look in her cold blue eyes, and talked in a contrived London manner she instantly detested, and then there was the barely concealed disdain in her words whenever the topic of Charlotte Heywood or Sanditon was broached.

And whenever she talked to Georgiana, Georgiana felt treated like a little girl. If she had an opinion, it was amusing, if she said something sharp, she was addressed with the nickname girl, and when she took a stance, she was often put down for simply being unknowing.

Just as the wretched Lady Denham had finally taken notice and calmed down, a new enemy entered her social life.

Was there to be no end to the endless list of awful people in England? Surely, she’d met many unpleasant people in Antigua, but this was on a whole other level.

The only good thing during the Autumn season were Charlotte’s letters, in which her dear friend told her, upon hearing of her bad encounters with the blonde serpent, how she’d belittled Charlotte on the day of the regatta as well.

Georgiana felt bad talking about the serpent and Sidney to Charlotte, because she knew it hurt her. It was visible in her writing. Charlotte almost never reacted to statements considering Sidney, and the comments about the snake got comforting and supportive replies. She didn’t know why it pained her friend. She herself wouldn’t mind getting weekly letters about how poorly Otis fared after he’d hurt her heart.

It would serve him right, literally gambling away their happiness.

Just as it served Sidney right that he looked to be completely miserable with the serpent. He chose her for her money, not for her character, so it served him right that she didn’t possess a single redeemable quality.

At the end of November, Lord Babington, who had stayed in Sanditon for Sidney, had to go to London because the prince regent requested it, and parliament would pick up soon. Mrs. Campion wished to go as well, since she missed her London friends, wanted a London dress for the wedding and wanted to show off her fiancé.

Georgiana’s fate was uncertain, but Sidney seemed disinclined to take her with him, since she: ‘Was able to cause enough problems in Sanditon, and managed to cause problems from Sanditon to London.’

But then a letter of Charlotte arrived, in which she said Lady Susan had invited her to visit London with her.

Leave it to Georgiana to make a scene and hold a pity party if she thought there was something to be gained from it. In the end, Sidney gave in and allowed her to go to London though Mrs. Griffiths and her other charges were to go as well.

So all went to London, and on the day of their departure, the first snow greeted them on their way to London.

 ☼☼☼☼☼

Though there was no chance Charlotte would set foot in the Parker residence, Georgiana got an invitation for tea at Lady Susan’s almost immediately. She delighted in only telling Sidney of her plans over dinner, since dinner was almost always had with Mrs. Campion, so he was never able to ask about Charlotte or show his emotions when Georgiana announced she was visiting again.

One time, Mrs. Campion, jealous of the time Georgiana spent in the presence of one of the most famous and esteemed ladies in London, asked why she was not invited. To which Georgiana gleefully, and with the same haughty tone, with all the pretended innocence Mrs. Campion showed when she made a nasty remark, replied that she didn’t feel secure enough to ask anything of Lady Susan, since she was such a busy and esteemed woman and her table was always full, since she wished to see every acquaintance worth having. She’d always cleverly left out the fact that most meetings were only in the presence of Charlotte.

The reaction was instantaneous, Mrs. Campion pulled back from the table she’d been leaning on, her face paling. Little black Georgiana worth having every couple of days, Charlotte Heywood living with her, but wealthy Mrs. Campion who had already known and greeted Lady Susan on numerous occasions wasn’t worth having.

She could see her struggle with the fact that she herself wasn’t wanted by Lady Susan, and that Lady Susan preferred the two girls she so clearly disliked.

‘But y-‘ She was like a fish on dry land, her lips forming words but her vocal chords weren’t producing them. She wanted to say it. Georgiana could see how she tried to ask why such a lady would want Georgiana and Charlotte, but she could also see the stern look that Sidney was giving his fiancée.

He knew, Georgiana realized.

He knew that she wanted to make a mean-spirited remark. And he hated her just as much for it.

Just ditch the bitch, please.

‘But how unfortunate. Does she know I am in London?’

Clever, a most clever save… But a bad one.

‘I believe so, I’ve mentioned dining with you… And we’ve already been to a ball she was present at’, Georgiana replied, the last comment with an innocent smile saying: how could you have forgotten, you poor silly thing.

Bested in her own game, Mrs. Campion could only stare with an open mouth.

‘Oh, I understand. She must be busy then, perhaps at the next ball we might talk.’

‘Perhaps.’

 ☼☼☼☼☼

The next day proved uncommonly cold as Georgiana went towards the Babington residence. She’d never really cared or interacted with Lady Babington before she got married, she’d always seemed cold and quiet, but during their first ball in London, she’d lost Charlotte for an hour, and found her red eyed but with dry cheeks at the refreshment table with Lady Babington. Apparently, Charlotte had a run-in with Mrs. Campion and Sidney, and as Lord Babington had gone after Sidney, he’d alerted his wife that Charlotte might be in a bad state as well. She’d escorted Charlotte to a private chamber, in which Charlotte had admitted that indeed nothing good ever came of Sanditon. Afterwards, they’d talked a couple of times and though she didn’t form a natural friendship with the woman, she could at least agree that they both cared about Charlotte. She was as snappy, snarky and opinionated as her, but as always, two people similar in character had trouble connecting.

A maid let her in and showed her to a green drawing room upstairs. Lady Babington and Charlotte were already present… As was Lady Susan, unexpectedly.

‘I called you all together, because, through our combined knowledge, I hope to find a solution to our problem.’

‘Our problem?’ Georgiana asked.

A maid came in bringing tea and biscuits, and the red haired woman waited until the maid left again.

‘Yes. Our problem. Now, I know I was a bit preoccupied with my own problems this summer… And any potential friendship has suffered under it, since you rightfully avoided my brother, Miss Heywood. But lately, I’ve come to a conclusion that many people seem to be bothered by a particular problem. And since men are too stupid to tackle the problem, and are to occupied pitying themselves, it’s up to us. I won’t beat around the bush any longer: our problem goes by the name of Mrs. Campion. I’ve asked Charlotte if it was alright to discuss it beforehand, and it is. Mrs. Campion is a mean cruel creature and the thing standing between Mr. Parker and Miss Heywood.’

Georgiana refrained from telling Charlotte to just pick a better, less crappy person, and continued drinking her tea.

‘The information I’ve collected thus far is the following: Charlotte and Mr. Parker are in love. Charlotte and Mr. Parker were about to get engaged, until something happened that lead him to engage himself to his former fiancé who’d left him for a rich man. This we all know, by knowing Charlotte. Now, my husband strongly believes in privacy and wishes to keep the secrets of his friends. So the past few months I’ve only managed to notice that Mr. Parker was faring badly. James stumbled home late, or drunk and late a lot, and the person he’d entertained was always the same: Mr. Parker. Now, I’ve also met Mrs. Campion a lot and she’s an upright bitch. Of course, Mr. Parker could just have developed a bad taste, or decided that personality isn’t important in a woman. Yet, if her personality didn’t matter, he had no reason to be so miserable.’

Georgiana found herself becoming interested in the story. These were all things she had observed herself, yes, but she was curious what this was leading up to.

‘Now after the first ball, I’ve started paying more attention. Why, if both Mr. Parker and Miss Heywood are unhappy, and nobody likes Mrs. Campion, is he engaged to her? There had to be a reason. And I thought that if I found the reason, we could treat the reason. If there’s no reason for him to be with her, we can split them up and fix things… Alright now fixing it won’t mean everyone can go straight back to being happy… That’s not how feelings work…’

Lady Babington seemed a bit lost in thoughts as her eyes wandered across the room. Georgiana coughed, which managed to snap her out of it.

‘Right… So though it still may take a while for things to be actually fine, things can at least start getting better once she’s out of the way. Happiness is still possible.’

‘I’ve listened with my ear pressed to closed doors, I’ve played the part of worried wife – which mind you I am – when James came back home drunk and down because of Sidney’s misery… And I’ve talked with James when he was sober. I’ve found out the following, of which I’m not sure you are aware. When those buildings burned down, Sidney discovered that Tom didn’t pay for the insurance for the same reason he always pays his workers late, skimps out on spending money on new material and so on: he’s broke. He has an incredible amount of loans, his debt is ginormous. But he keeps thinking that once Sanditon catches on, he’ll make the money back. However, the amount of money invested in the houses, was large, and he needed to sell or rent those buildings with great urgency. All Parkers knew Sanditon cost a lot, they knew he depended on Lady Denham’s financial support, they knew he’d asked Sidney to ask for loans in London, they knew he needed to get Sanditon on the map. But when he told them how much he owed his debtors, they knew they couldn’t pay it. Even if my aunt had died and all the money had gone to Sanditon, he’d still be in trouble. His debt was bigger than all the money the Parkers possessed, plus the money of my aunt. They needed new money and couldn’t lend it.’

‘So he asked for the bitch’s hand’, Georgiana concluded.

Lady Babington nodded.

‘So the reason is money.’

‘Only money. Not even for his own benefit, purely for Tom’s. Mrs. Campion wanted Mr. Parker back since her husband died, and her money only becomes his after the marriage, so he complies with every whim. She sometimes uses it to make him do things, because, despite claiming to want him, she has no problem threatening to break off the engagement if he doesn’t do as she wishes. And though he dislikes her, he does hate marrying her just to use her money. He feels miserable being with her, and he hates having to use the only benefit marrying her brings.’

‘That makes.. Sense actually’, Charlotte muttered. ‘I always told him how he should make more of an effort to support his family… But I never meant this… I never thought… To trap two people in a loveless marriage just to help Tom… Oh poor Sidney, poor Mr. Parker.’ Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears threatening to overspill any moment.

Were they to all suffer because of money? She a bird in a cage because of it, her engagement ruined because of Otis’ debts, Lady Babington suffering through money troubles and having to comply with Lady Denham prior to getting engaged, Sidney’s engagement being broken off because the serpent wanted to marry a wealthier husband, and now Sidney and Charlotte both being miserable because of Tom Parker’s money trouble.

‘And his family, he’d go straight to debtor’s prison, and his wife and children would be in a lot of trouble. And the other two brothers as well, since they too wouldn’t be able to pay off his debt.’

‘So they need money’, Lady Susan decided.

‘And they need it before the marriage takes place’, Charlotte replied.

‘So, we need to find money’, Esther explained.

‘Or find ways to make it’, Georgiana decided.

‘Yes. Anyone ideas?’ Esther asked as she sat down with a notebook in hand.

‘Either we need to find a way to make sure Sidney wouldn’t be harmed by Tom’s trouble’, Georgiana sighed.

‘Or we need to find a way to make Tom’s trouble go away’, Esther agreed.

‘So Sanditon needs to become a thriving town, within half a year?’ Lady Susan asked.

‘Or the Parkers need a lot of additional funds so that Tom can focus on paying back the money, instead of spending for new stuff’, Georgiana concluded.

Charlotte looked around the room. The Babingtons, Lady Susan, Georgiana…

‘I can’t ask this of you. If it was about a little amount, it would be kind and I would know they’d give it back to you, but I doubt that would be the case. No.’

‘We can, of course, always poison her shortly after the marriage’, Georgiana suggested.

Lady Babington smiled but the other two looked reserved.

‘What? Then we wouldn’t have to do anything. They’d have the money and Sidney would be free.’

‘Except that murder is illegal’, Charlotte said.

‘Only if they find out.’

‘Hold on, she might be on to something’, Lady Susan decided.

‘Murder might not be the answer. But as long as they get married, the money is his. Now I’ve seen many marriages dissolve in my time… Perhaps, we only need to find a reason for divorce.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Esther huffed, ‘a marriage is practically a lifelong contract. The only legal grounds are if the husband almost beats his wife and children to death or if a party, but most frequently the woman…’

‘Commits adultery.’

‘But, that doesn’t make it possible for Mr. Parker to remarry’, Charlotte said.

‘It does… if you take it to Parliament’, Lady Susan explained.

‘But doesn’t that only happen a handful of times a year?’ asked Esther.

‘Yes, because it costs money to take it to Parliament, and since it doesn’t happen a lot your name and reputation might take quite a hit. Most who have the money are society people, but it frequently leads to them being shunned… Luckily, I doubt that would be the case, since I, Lord Babington, Mr. Crowe and other very influential people would make sure his reputation would remain good enough. We’d make sure it would be known that he’s still welcome at parties attended by the Prince Regent. That really sends a sign. If he, as a divorcee, still moves in the same circles as the Prince Regent, no one will dare close their doors for him.’

‘But Mrs. Campion…’

‘Now most divorce cases I know are awful things. And the wife ends up a poor outcast, not allowed to remarry and not receiving the alimony she should. But I’m sure that Mr. Parker would allowed her to remarry, and would pay her alimony.’

‘So what you’re saying is: we should make her cheat with someone with enough money to take her on in case of a divorce, despite the serious social repercussions.’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s, a lot… Though… To put her through. I don’t like her, and she’s definitely mean, but she’s only about thirty, this could impact her the rest of the years of her life. And we are already assuming she would commit adultery.’

‘Someone doesn’t have to commit adultery, there are bad men who have divorced their wives with no real proof of anything.’

‘But let’s just pretend she at least has to be a bit guilty, otherwise she isn’t deserving of such a punishment.’

The woman all grabbed their teacup to drink and collect their thoughts.

‘Lady Susan, you managed to get a lot of people to Sanditon this summer. Perhaps, it could happen again, if Sanditon hosted more events’, Charlotte asked.

‘It could, perhaps with even more people, my going was a last minute decision.’

‘But would that be enough?’ Esther asked.

‘I doubt it.’

‘If I marry, the money will go to my husband, I’d much rather spend it on that damned sandy place if it helps you. I care more for having you as something as close to a sister as it could get, than having more money than I’ll ever need in the possession of a future husband.’

‘I doubt Sidney would allow you’, Charlotte sighed. ‘And neither would I want you to.’

Esther stood up and walked about the room, coming to a standstill in front of the window. Georgiana noticed it had started snowing again.

Lady Susan and Charlotte took the paper and started noting down ideas for future events and ways to get people to Sanditon.

Georgiana sighed in frustration. All these tactics would take months. Not knowing a lot about making money, she started imagining ways to murder Mrs. Campion.

Stupid horrid woman, why did she have to marry him?

Why, after all these years, did she suddenly want him?

‘Wait, when was the wedding again? I never paid attention to the date’, Esther asked. She turned away from the window. Her lips were a flat line as she looked at Georgiana.

‘They were going to marry on the day they got engaged all those years ago, somewhere around the beginning of July… But, she’s been asking for a date at the end of January the last couple of weeks. Since the bans would already be read by then. She wanted a London wedding and claimed to not want to wait until the summer season.’

‘That soon?’ Charlotte asked in panic.

‘Oh, interesting. She doesn’t seem the type to suddenly change plans.’

‘She isn’t she’s a control freak.’

Esther walked away from the window.

‘How many weeks ago did she say that?’

‘I don’t know, the week before we left for London. Mrs. Campion had been visiting Sanditon since the ending of July, but always returned to London. She had already wanted Sidney to go because she was going to spend the entirety of the season there. Sidney wasn’t planning on going, but since you and Lord Babington and Mr. Crowe went, he felt inclined. Then Mrs. Campion returned and demanded he go, because she wanted a London wedding “where everyone could attend, and it would be such fun, perhaps there might even be snow.” And stuff’, Georgiana said, mimicking Mrs. Campion’s airs as she spoke the words.

‘Interesting’, Lady Susan concluded.

Esther’s eyes connected with those of Lady Susan.

‘I think, perhaps, our initial suggestion might not be so unfair to Mrs. Campion.’

‘Death?’ asked Georgiana with amusement.

‘Adultery… Miss Lambe, we need you. Please, try observing her as well as you can over the next few weeks’, begged Esther.

‘Look how she responds to food. Does she get ill, nauseous, refrain from eating certain things… Check how often she feels faint-headed, or says she’s indisposed or ill.If possible, try to determine whether her face is getting rounder, or the silhouette of her dress is changing’, Lady Susan instructed.

‘Why?’ asked Charlotte, who just like Georgiana, didn’t know what the married women were aiming at.

‘They’re signs of pregnancy.’

‘You think Mrs. Campion might be – that?’

‘Why would a woman, with more than enough money to provide for herself, want a husband beneath her in rank and wealth? Love, one might say, good enough. But why suddenly love a man you haven’t spoken to in years, and were able to give up years ago? Why suddenly marry half a year sooner than planned, if she herself suggested the original date? Perhaps she’s been in a relationship for months, and wanted Sidney as an insurance that should she become pregnant, there’d be a father and no scandal, but it could have already happened, and now she has to speed up her plans.’

Esther and Georgiana were smiling now.

But Charlotte wasn’t faring too well.

‘She’s using him again. Leaving him and taking him depending on what’s useful. Are we to let her marry him?’

‘She’d be cast out if she became pregnant whilst unmarried, no matter her money. It practically makes no difference, the scandal would be as large as it would be if there was a divorce… The only thing which would be different, would be who the money belongs to.’

‘But to have Sidney go through a wedding and a divorce…’

‘She has to marry someone or she’s ruined, and he’s so desperate for her money, that it wouldn’t matter if he discovered about her condition shortly before the marriage.’

‘So she has to marry someone, and Sidney will take her on out of loyalty for Tom.’

And then.

Like a snowflake falling out of the sky,

Twirling in the wind,

A thought formed,

And slowly solidified as it floated through her head,

Until it hit her.

‘She doesn’t have to marry him. If our guess is right, she wanted Sidney because he was wealthy enough and she liked him. She also knew he needed her money and would take her back. It was a good situation for her, if she got pregnant, the child would be born within a marriage. She’s known Sidney before and she knows that Sidney would be too good a man to go through the trouble and humiliation to divorce her, should he discover her relationship. But she hasn’t taken into account that he loves someone else. She hasn’t taken into account anyone discovering before it happens. We can blackmail her. We can inform her that we know. There’s no time left to entrap another husband. She has to marry. But she has no choice as to who she marries. We can force her to marry into the family, that way her money is ours, but she gets to keep her social life, and her child won’t have to grow up in poverty, its name forever coated in scandal.’

‘That still means they have to marry.’ Everyone was visibly confused.

‘No, she has to marry a Parker, not that Parker in particular. It doesn’t matter which brother gets the money. There are two single Parker brothers, and they’d both willingly give the money to Tom.’

‘You mean we should put… Mr. Arthur through a marriage to that woman?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.’

‘That would solve our problems… But it would force him to be with that woman for the rest of his life’, Lady Babington sighed. ‘It doesn’t seem like the best solution.’

‘Actually, the more I think of it, the better I think it would be. I have an advantage none of you have. For some reason, he has taken it upon himself to befriend me, grumpy and unwilling as I was to make friends. Now, I might be betraying his confidence, but it’s essential that you know. If you know, you might understand why I think he would agree.’

All other women were silent as they looked at her, hope, interest and confusion written in their eyes.

‘Firstly, Arthur Parker would do everything for his brothers. Secondly, he’s a happy go lucky guy, even Mrs. Campion’s awful mood wouldn’t be able to break his spirits, rather, his spirits would annoy her and she’d have to live with him for the rest of her life. Thirdly, he loves children, no matter whose they are. Fourthly, the changes of Arthur marrying were already quite slim to begin with. And the chances of him marrying and procuring children even slimmer. This would actually be a solution to his problem, since it would give Arthur and heir, and she’s possibly the only woman who’d agree to marry him. She has no choice but accept him.’

‘Why?’

‘Arthur Parker doesn’t like women. He never has. Not in a romantic way. If he were to marry, it would be a marriage from which no children would come, few women would agree to that. But Mrs. Campion has no choice, and has a child on the way.’

‘Oh my.’

‘Heavens.’

‘The chances of such a thing…’

‘Are you sure he would agree, it’s still Her?’ Charlotte asked. She was the least surprised of the three.

‘I believe so, I could write to him?’

‘Shouldn’t we wait until we know she’s with child?’ Lady Susan asked.

‘It’s snowing. Post will be slow, and we have to act fast. We have to know of her pregnancy and the youngest Mr. Parker’s willingness by the middle of December, so that there’s enough time for the bans to be read and the preparations to be made’, Lady Babington replied.

All women stared at the snow twirling past the window.

‘So… If we are lucky, we have found a solution?’ Esther asked.

‘’It seems so’, Lady Susan replied.

‘Charlotte, we don’t want to encourage you to hope, but we just want you to know that we’re here for you. To listen, and to help should you wish.’

‘Thank you all. The last months have been… Certainly something… Thanks for going through the trouble. I’m not hoping for a magical solution, I think I’ll only believe there to be one when I see it happening. The past year has made me realize that I’ve been overly open and overly trusting and optimistic. I’ve quite lost that spirit now, which I believe is a good thing, but still, it would be nice to have the guarantee that some things could get better.’

☼☼☼☼☼

Hugs and support were given, and by dinner time all left for their homes. Georgiana asked Lady Susan whether there were particular foods known to agitate a pregnant woman, which there were, and lo and behold, the next day when Mrs. Campion arrived for dinner, it didn’t even take a full ten minutes for her to scowl and stare at the soup, which she didn’t eat a lot of. Then came the first course, and her face paled further as she subtly held her hand in front of her throat. When Mr. Parker asked her whether she was alright, she smiled sweetly and claimed to have been feeling bad all day. But the real spectacle came during the main course, when a very red piece of meat was served, barely cooked.

After the two previous courses, she’d already gotten pale but when the servants lifted the lids of the main course, she didn’t need more than a sniff to jump upright and run away.

Georgiana couldn’t explain her laughter to Mrs. Griffiths or her brother. A laughter that didn’t disappear by the time she went to bed. She didn’t want to report back to the ladies because of a single event though, so the next couple of days she kept looking and testing, until, after three dinners had gone by during which Mrs. Campion had become unwell, and two cancelled dinners because Mrs. Campion was “indisposed”, Georgiana felt certain enough in her observing to report back. She asked the ladies over for tea, and as she reported her findings, a letter arrived for her. It was by Arthur Parker.

He agreed, that if it were the case, he would gladly assist.

☼☼☼☼☼

By the middle of December, Arthur arrived, Sidney was informed, and Mrs. Campion was confronted. She was shocked at having been found out, and surprised by the suggestion of the Parkers. But she found herself, as Georgiana had predicted, unable to refuse. And on the 24th of December, the bans announcing the wedding of Mr. Arthur Parker and Mrs. Eliza Campion were read. It was more of a Christmas Miracle than any of them had ever experienced or read about.

And, when those blue snowflakes started falling again on the 1st of February, they were wed. Sidney and Charlotte had a lot to sort through, her trust and heart had been broken, and if it hadn’t been for Charlotte’s friends, he’d have been stuck in a loveless marriage. But, the love was still there, through it all. It took time, for Charlotte to grow comfortable with her feelings again, and she and Mr. Parker spend a lot of time rebuilding and solidifying their bond, which had always been tumultuous, but by the time the winter left their country, their bond was blooming and an engagement was announced.

And Georgiana, despite her initial reservations, had to admit that Charlotte had managed to bring out the best behaviour in him. She had even succeeded in mending the bond between Georgiana and Sidney.

And truth be told, if Charlotte smiled so much, and Sidney was so desperately in love he couldn’t even pretend to be gruff anymore, Georgiana could only be happy for them.

[itsclydebitches]

Diving Deep

Hello, @badluckcharm-exe! It’s finally done! Sorry this took forever and a day. Inspiration decided to take a vacation for a while... Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. I’ll be sure to get it up on AO3 tomorrow 💚

Prompt was for a Mermaid AU. 

“Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream! Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream. Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream—”

“Holy shit, kid, you’re twelve. Don’t you know any other songs?”

Oscar blinked, finally drawing his gaze away from the aquarium. The hallway they stood in had water on both sides as well as above, a dome that never failed to leave Qrow’s stomach queasy because good god what happened if that glass ever broke? Oscar had no such reservations. He pressed right against the barrier—things with teeth passing him by—until the water rippled off his skin and there was a green tint to his eyes.

“I’m fourteen,” he said, head cocked strangely against the glass.

“That’s worse.”

Oscar shrugged. “I like it. The song I mean. Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. If you meet the kelpie’s eyes then don’t forget to scream.”

…What the actual fuck?

It wasn’t the first time the kid had said something totally off the wall. Qrow leaned on his mop, watching Oscar tap the glass until, coincidentally, a bright orange fish swam up to where he stood. Qrow had worked at Atlas Labs nearly a year now and knew that, no matter what Ozpin claimed, they were only surrounded by a bunch of dumb animals. You couldn’t train a fish to come when called, no more than he’d been able to train Oscar to be marginally less annoying. Honestly, what the ever loving hell was a kelpie?

“Hey.” Qrow tapped his boot until Oscar finally looked his way. The fish immediately swam off. “If you’re just gonna stand there how about you help me wipe down the glass?” That way Qrow didn’t need to go near all that nonsense. “All boys your age should have chores. Builds character. Or something.”

For reasons unknown to him Oscar’s eyes strayed to the bucket full of water next to Qrow’s feet. He split into a grin.

“Nope! Tell Dad I said hi!”

And Oscar scurried off, boots squeaking on the tiled floor as he disappeared around a corner. He’d left smudges on the glass and a scuff where he’d stood. Great. 

Another bug-eyed fish bumped against the glass parallel to Qrow’s head. He scowled.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

***

Atlas Labs. Renowned world-wide for their cutting advancements in marine biology. Not exactly the sort of research that got Qrow all hot and bothered, but what could he say? People were weird. Apparently while most looked to the skies for answers to Earth’s problems, the real scientists were turning to the many mysteries of the seas. Our origins, future, even a chance at immortality—all of it was hidden somewhere beneath the waves. At least, that’s what Ozpin claimed.

Not that Ozpin was any less weird than his son.

“Your brat says ‘hi.’”

Lithe and tall enough to hit his head on the occasional hanging lamp, Ozpin Pine presumably had his picture printed next to the dictionary definition of ‘eccentric.’ Qrow had never seen him in anything other than a wrinkled green suit (not the same one every day… surely?) and a lab coat stained with all sorts of things that he never needed identified, thanks. A mop of white hair looked perpetually windblown despite the fact that the man rarely stepped outside and Oz wore these teeny tiny glasses that couldn’t possibly help a flea see, let alone a grown-ass man. He wore rings on his fingers, a long line of earrings, and had hidden tattoos that Qrow sometimes caught peeking out from beneath the cuff of his shirt. It hurt to look at him. In the same way it hurt to look at an ongoing car wreck while being blinded by the sun. Ozpin was, simply put, an oddball.

And Qrow would have laid down his life for him.

Heh. Not to be dramatic or anything, but there weren’t many world-renowned scientists in this place who’d design to speak kindly to their janitor. Or speak to him at all. His first day Ozpin had slipped a sweet from his pocket into Qrow’s hand, made some horrendous joke, introduced Oscar as “My much beloved offspring” (what?), and capped it all off with the warmest smile Qrow had ever had the privilege of soaking up. Those scraps of kindness would have bred devotion on their own, but Ozpin genuinely seemed to like him, as ridiculous as that seemed. Qrow had thought this job was going to be the worst of the many he’d grabbed in the last three years. Instead it was…

Interesting. Yeah. It was something alright.

Ozpin had no inkling of Qrow’s inner judgement. He was too busy comically looking around the floor, or roughly around the height where a pint-sized teen might stand.

“My brat?” he asked, smiling so wide the florescent lights glinted off his back teeth. He took another candy from his pocket and munched it, seemingly thoughtful. Qrow had heard the other scientists bitching about Ozpin bringing food into the labs, claiming that it would attract animals. Like they weren’t already surrounded by animals. Duh.

Qrow eyed the tank in the far corner of Ozpin’s office. Like every other room in Atlas it was a space with aquarium tendencies, though this tank wasn’t listed on any of the public tours. The fish in there were clearly some special experiment of Oz’s, with bright neon strips on top and transparent bodies below. Qrow caught a glimpse of fish skeleton and swallowed back a gag.

“Yes, your brat. He kept bugging me while I cleaned the entryway. Don’t you have a leash for him or something?” Qrow started emptying the trash bins while Oz watched, gaze so focused it seemed to sizzle a hole in the back of his uniform. He did a lot of that. Watching. Qrow had also heard the other nerds complaining about Ozpin’s overly observant nature, saying he wasn’t just intense, but downright creepy.  

Weren’t science types supposed to be curious about everything though? If Ozpin wanted to examine the slope of Qrow’s ass, then by all means.

He bent a little farther while picking up the next can, just in case that really was what Oz was interested in. Gray slacks and beige boots weren’t exactly the height of style, but Qrow was confident in his ability to work even the saddest of outfits. Besides, it wasn’t like Ozpin had room to judge. Today he had a stack of jelly bracelets on his left wrist and an octopus pin on the collar of his coat. The man was a hodge-podge of strange adornments, wearing each and every one like they were actually fashionable.

Months he’d been at this job and Qrow was still trying to figure out if the man was just that dense or just that indifferent. Besides, none of this even touched on Ozpin’s tendency to—

“I’m afraid not. I tried a leash of kelp once and Oscar slipped right out of it. He always was such a nimble little fry.”

—say weird shit.

Like father, like son. Apparently.

Qrow paused in the act of dumping five billion used tissues into his cart. He pinched the bridge of his nose. It was 10:00 at night and he didn’t have the energy to tackle whatever the hell a kelp leash was. Instead Qrow raised a single finger, letting it flop. “Nimble fry? Should I serve Oscar up with ketchup tomorrow?”

Which resulted in Ozpin throwing his head back and laughing—literally, like something out of a cartoon. His desk was a mess of papers covered in rainbow highlighting and the bookcase next to that was organized by color rather than genre. Or heaven forbid, last name. Between those and the fish (and his iffy fashion sense) Ozpin was surrounded by color in the otherwise sterile room. It was like this wherever he went. Ozpin blended in with the vibrant life of the tanks around them; always looking like he was more at home with the water just out of reach. Qrow supposed that was a good thing for a man who’d devoted his life to marine biology. It did make one wonder about stupid, sappy things though. Like fate maybe. What kind of man was born with eyes the color of sand and a smile that lit you up like a glimpse of the horizon?  

Sometimes Qrow wondered if he’d hear waves if he listened for Oz’s heartbeat. Would he taste salt on his lips?

Right now Qrow had neither. All he could smell was trash.

“A fry is a juvenile fish,” Ozpin said, still wiping tears from his eyes. “Ah, but you’re a fry too, aren’t you, Qrow? So very young. I wouldn’t expect you to know such things.”

Ozpin came up and actually gave his cheek a pat, like some doting grandmother humoring her young charge. Qrow got a close look at his unlined face and could see how soft his hair was, with none of the wiry texture that usually accompanied gray strands. For a man who loved teasing him about his age (not nearly as young as people tended to assume), Ozpin didn’t look a day over thirty himself. It was just one more of his oddities. Qrow had stopped bothering to count them long ago.  

Instead he leaned into Ozpin’s touch when his hand decided to rest on his cheek a moment, like some rare bird designing to visit. Ozpin’s fingers were cool as their pads lightly took in the texture of Qrow’s skin. He thought he saw Ozpin’s pupils dilating, blowing black against brown, though that may have just been a trick of the light.

“Is anyone gonna let me do some actual work around here?” he finally groused. A moment longer and Qrow might not have let Ozpin go.

“You should be very proud,” he said, voice carrying a touch of awe that didn’t sit right with the rest of the scene. Ozpin was looking at a bio waste bag. “You have such a wonderful job.”

Qrow stared. Then he looked down to make sure that yes, he was still a janitor and yes, those were drops of day-old coffee on his shoes. A smear of something vile-smelling on his sleeve. Everything else was disinfectant.

“I do?”

“Of course! Why, it’s a service. You keep things neat and sterile. You help make sure my family has a lovely home to keep coming back to.” Ozpin rested his hand on the tank and all the fish congregated around his reflection. Must think it was time for food or something. Qrow was used to the term ‘family’ getting thrown out when Ozpin was speaking and slimy, big-eyed fish were involved. That hardly fazed him nowadays.

The idea that someone found janitorial work impressive? That was something out of left field. Qrow could feel the blush now staining his cheeks.

“Guess I’m not the worst at it,” he muttered, taking up his bag again because damn, he couldn’t look Ozpin in the eye when he got like this. He was expecting another non-sequitor into the new book he was reading, or maybe the fact that Oscar had started collecting forks again (don’t ask). Instead Qrow felt a touch at the crook of his arm, as gentle as when Ozpin had touched his cheek. He stepped closer. 

“You truly are marvelous,” Ozpin whispered.

“…Do you hear the stuff that comes out of your mouth?”

“Oh yes. Sometimes I’m the only one who hears. Except Oscar, of course…and you. You’ve always heard me, haven’t you, Qrow? Tell me, do you enjoy the music?”

Must just mean music. In general, like. Qrow suspected that Ozpin was foreign, slipping articles in where none where needed because there certainly wasn’t any music playing now.

…Right?

He wasn’t holding the trash bag anymore. It was thrown haphazardly across his cart, now replaced with Ozpin’s cool, surprisingly smooth hand. Qrow stared  down at the appendage, reeling, wondering when that had happened and why. How many times was the man going to touch him tonight—freely—when he’d kept some sort of distance all these months before?  

“You do hear,” Ozpin murmured, seemingly to himself. “And Oscar is so very fond of you…why, we both are.” His contemplative look suddenly split like ripe fruit, revealing a blinding smile beneath. “Come, Qrow. Let me show you.”

“Show me what?”

Don’t ask too many questions. You’ll spoil the fun. Ozpin had said that to him once when Qrow had feigned an interest in all his nasty fish, figuring that maybe he’d have some sort of chance if there was a shared interest between them, even a faked one. Instead his words had been rebuffed, Ozpin seeming to stare through him to the lie beneath, finding it all very humorous. Qrow wasn’t surprised that his questions weren’t answered now.

Instead Ozpin led him down the long corridors of Atlas labs, their steps echoing and their breathing overly loud. The aquarium around them shifted with dark blues and greens. The fish seemed to follow, waiting.

It occurred to Qrow then that they were the only ones here. He was the late-night janitor. Ozpin was the workaholic who never seemed to sleep. The only thing that broke the isolation was Oscar’s voice drifting faintly down the hall as he sang that insistent song. Row, row, row, your boat. Where to though? They were the only ones here and suddenly that seemed as much a possibility as a threat.

Don’t forget to scream.

Qrow opened his mouth, but all that came out was a soft, devoted sigh. He stepped into the water.

…water?

“There you are,” Ozpin said. It came out as a coo. “Quite lovely, isn’t it?”

He’d taken him to one of the wading pools. Into the wading pool, where the wildlife swam free, providing the scientists with a place to get up close and personal with their research. A tiny part of Qrow’s mind expressed surprise that Ozpin had stepped in with him—he and Oscar had always had such a strange aversion to touching water, despite their love of it. Filled boots. Wet pants sticking to his ankles, now his thighs. A slightly larger part of him was sending off panicked signals, claiming that he never ever wanted to be this close to a bunch of fish. There were little guppy things scurrying about. Rays with long tails. What might have been a small shark. Everything circled around them as they moved forward, a whirlpool of all the things Qrow had wanted to avoid since taking this position.

Except for Ozpin. Qrow waded deeper, moving towards him and him alone.

“You heard, Qrow. Do you see too?”

Dumbly, Qrow stared down at their still clasped hands. There were membranes between Ozpin’s fingers now and when he smiled his teeth had grown sharper. He’d grown more.

There was a ledge where the pool connected to the tank, a space between the two worlds just large enough for the kinder animals to slip through. Or perhaps two men. One man and… Ozpin; who pulled Qrow under with a forceful, determined tug.

He’d always thought it would be boring under the water. All dark and silent. Far from it though. When Qrow first jerked in panic Ozpin was there, his tattoos, his scales bright within the pool’s gloom, casting little prisms between them. His tail pulled Qrow close while his pupils narrowed into slits. There were tender, clawed hands bowing his shoulders.

There was a moment of suspension then, poised somewhere between bobbing and swimming. Qrow caught Ozpin’s gaze and gave himself up to drowning in those eyes.

Well done, they seemed to say. A mouth filled with teeth and fierce possession leaned in for what might have been a kiss.

Qrow had always taken his chances. He met Ozpin halfway and what do you know.

He tasted salt.

[hellsparadiseessays]

Chapter 66 - The gourd

Disclaimer : As usual, this is Spoiler Central so go catch up if you haven’t done so yet. Also, I’m not Japanese nor Chinese so what I’m explaining here is supported by the research I did beforehand. Finally, English isn’t my native language and lately my brain hasn’t exactly been the most functional so yeah, sorry if there’s typos and some dodgy grammar (yes, this one has been difficult to type, that’s why I tried to keep it as simple as possible). That said, I hope you’ll find this write up entertaining or informative!

There is a neat little detail in chapter 66 I hope you all caught: Rien put the Elixir of Immortality in a small bottle shaped like a gourd. Now you may ask “but Crow, why is it relevant, we often see bottles like that in manga and anime”. Well, it is more relevant than you think, both from a meta perspective (cultural aspect of the gourd in Japan and China) and from a narrative perspective. In fact, Rien *had* to use a gourd for many reasons.

I. The practical use of a gourd

From a strictly practical perspective, the fruits we know as gourds have been used for food, but also as musical instruments or as bottles when dried. The process takes some months for the gourd to completely dry, and the fruit must be turned regularly to dry evenly. Once it’s dry, the seeds in it can be used for a musical purpose, or it can be opened and used as a container. It is even possible to give the gourd a specific shape when it’s growing – the 8 shape being very common, 8 being considered a lucky number (and making it convenient to tie a rope and have a portable gourd). There is a reason why, nowadays, the image of the old but eccentric mentor figure in anime and manga can be portrayed as an old man with an 8-shaped gourd used to keep sake, for example. It all has a practical and cultural basis that can be found pretty far back in time.

II. Symbols of the gourd

The gourd is linked to a lot of symbols, especially in China.

It is commonly used as a charm to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck because of the way it is pronounced. Called *hulu*, it has the same pronunciation as the words meaning “to guard” and “blessing”  (both pronounced *hu*) as well as “happiness” (*fulu*). The word for creeper (like a gourd vine) is *màn*, which sounds like *wàn*, the word for 10 000, myriad and forever. As such, gourds and creepers are often associated to symbolise immortality.

The image of the gourd appears often in Chinese mythology as well: used as a boat to escape the deluge, used as a magic tool to trap Sun Wukong (spoiler alert: Sun Wukong didn’t get caught in the end because he’s smarter than that)... And in early Taoism, it is used to describe Chaos (Emperor Hun-Tun’s tale). Indeed, the image of the cosmic egg-gourd that holds Paradise at the beginning and end of time, seems prevalent in Taoism and helps explain the search for balance and immortality: Taoist Chaos is a place and state where all opposites are equal and balanced, where notions like hot and cold don’t exist anymore, where dreams are real and reality is unreal. These concepts are meant to encourage a spiritual journey in oneself to find that paradise. To go even further, the ultimate Taoist body, in its primordial state, should be that of a faceless hermaphrodite with techniques that are frightening to the uninitiated. And I am pointing that last point out specifically because you know what matches that description in Jigokuraku? Lord Tensen’s Kishikai forms.

Knowing all that, it makes sense that Rien *had* to put the elixir in a gourd specifically. It completely suits the theme of the island.

III. What the Elixir is supposedly made of

Now this is the fun part, at least for me, because it’s both amusing and horrific. See, while in the manga we learn that Chôbe’s body parts are essential for the Elixir I’ll never forgive Rien jfc, in the actual myth about the elixir, two rather interesting elements are used to compose that fancy Paradise Potion. I’m straying a bit from the initial point of this writeup on purpose here, but it allows me to expand a bit on a point I mentioned in my previous essay.

See, the Elixir of Immortality is said to be composed of various elements one shouldn’t ingest, such as jade or arsenic. Two curious elements used to symbolise the masculine and feminine aspects are specifically used: mercury for the semen, and cinnabar for the menstruation blood (balance of Feminine and Masculine, I think you get the point now). Now Cinnabar is a vermillion stone which, once refined, turns into mercury. Interestingly enough, I wouldn’t be surprised if this stone was the basis for the Philosopher’s Stone (often envisioned as a glass-like red stone in its purest form, just like cinnabar ore). Now, ladies and gentlemen, have you ever heard of *mercury poisoning*?

Because the Elixir of Life is basically “how to poison yourself 101” from a modern point of view, and mercury poisoning is especially not fun to deal with. Now what happens when one gets mercury poisoning? Well, here is a little list of the symptoms: peripheral neuropathy (movements and vision are affected, with a loss of coordination and of peripheral vision), painful sensations of burning and itching, discoloration and shedding of the skin, memory loss and insomnia... Potentially leading to coma and death if left untreated. Organic mercury (methylmercury) is especially vicious when it comes to poisoning, since it’s an element notoriously that builds itself up in the food chain. Wondering why pregnant women are advised against eating fish? This is the reason why, and fish and whales are closely watched for that reason as well. Interesting fact: the character of the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland is based on hatters being poisoned by the mercury they used for their work. Furthermore, the loss of coordination may make one look drunk... Coincidentally, the Eight Immortals are traditionally associated with a certain martial art imitating the movements of a drunk person. I’m not saying there *is* a link, but it knowing what we know, it may not be totally unfounded, right?

If you are curious, I suggest you to check about two interesting modern cases of mercury poisoning. The first one is the widespread poisoning in Minamata (Kumamoto prefecture, Kyushu) in the 50s, that led to the name Minamata disease for mercury poisoning (a second case happened in the 60s in Niigata prefecture, Honshu). The other case is the poisoning of Karen Wetterhahn in the late 90s, which led to a tightening of the regulations concerning the manipulation of mercury, especially with the use of special gloves that are completely impervious to mercury – thus reducing the risk of poisoning through the skin.

And with this, we’re done with this short essay! While it’s not much compared to what I’ve been producing until now, it was interesting to do all of that research! I was aware of Minamata disease thanks to the lore masters of Bloodborne such as Redgrave or Aegon of Astora and their research about mercury, which has a major place in the game. However, I was not familiar with it to the extent of knowing about its references in Chinese myths, so it was yet again an occasion to generally improve my knowledge about stuff that’ll be utterly useless for my daily life! But hey, it’s what makes it so attractive.

For my next write-ups, I’ll have the long-awaited Criminality and Misery essay, as well as a Chôbe rant (y e s) I’ve been thinking about this past month. I guess I’ll do this one first to get it out of the way? I don’t know, I did wanted to at least have the first part of C&M out of the way before Sunday (because this part makes me think about the Aza bros a lot and I end up depressed everytime so I’d like to have it out before we see them again in the manga)... Yeah guess I’ll work on both stuff in parallel and try the insane bet of getting them out before Sunday. Besides, the Chôbe rant shouldn’t be too long, it’ll be mostly the explanation of a trope often used in literature that, I think, matches with Murder Bae perfectly.

Sources

Symbols of the gourd and the creeper

Myth and meaning in early Taoism: the theme of Chaos (Hun-Tun), by N. J. Girardot

Sacred gourd myths

Mercury poisoning

The poisoning of KW

[wowheadquarters]

Top 8 of my favorite WoW OC

For a lovable anon. Now I am not sure if it means strictly my OCs or any OCs, and at this point I am too afraid to ask. So... Let’s make it my OCs and argument with the fact that I don’t know all OCs there are to exist and I could exclude someone really realy super

8. Rybomyl - My old DK character, his name is a pun on the common structure of Czech men’s names meaning [something]-loving, but in this case it means fish-washing. His greatest passion was fishing and everyboy hated to have him in a dungeon because c’mon, a body of water deep enough to cast the fishing rod it!

7. Ensheilah - An Orccish goddess or rather a spirit maintaining order within the ever-changing realm of the dead, ghosts and spirits. Coincidentally also a Shadowmoon shaman from countless years before the Dark Portal opened (or even before Durotan was born for that matter). I just like to recycle good names, the two have no relation whatsoever. Spirit-Ensheilah has never understood why people wear shirts, so she had conveniently long hair to avoid female presenting nipples on Tumblr and also on her “in-game model,” because she is a part of Taedal’s expansion for WoW. Shaman-Ensheilah exists purely to satisfy my dreams of having large tusks and enough time to romantically gaze at a star-filled sky.

6. Taedal - You actually know this guy if you bother to read the end of the lists here. His whole concept was initially made to piss off and mock the Illidari, most notably Taedal being a Demon Hunter (as in a Demon who is a Hunter). His full title/name is Taedal the Traitor, the First of His Flame. My dream is to make his expansion, on which I am still partly working, a part of canon, or at least accepted widely enough that it doesn’t matter that it has never been anywhere near the canon.

5. Toolpencil Whatzzcoil - This is a Gnome Rogue who has spent an unhealthy amount of time studying magical theory in Dalaran. I’ve created this OC accidentally during an interaction with @askvoljin (btw an ecellent blog in case you miss your Warchief). It got a little out of hand, because she has sprouted out her own comics.

4. Ti’wa - A Troll who has been thorough a lot, both in developing and backstory-wise. He’s been a lot of things - a character I played in DnD, my Horde main Druid in WoW, and lastly he is now Toolpencil’s new companion in her comics. He’s been black haired, red haired, now he is full white. If I stick with his latest canon, he comes from the Amani tribe. A thing that has been consistent with him: nobody ever bothers to tell him what is going on, and he is very tiny for a troll.

3. Anduion - Quite an important Black dragonflight help... 800 years from the future. One of the few dragons to directly walk the path of Light. If he stands next to Anduin Wrynn, people assume they are seeing double, although Anduion is visually much a darker person. He is somewhat relevant in Taedal’s WoW expansion as a questgiver, and if I make up my mind on having a playable Dragon Class (yes, Class, because game mechanics) then he is super relevant to the Dragon Heroes. Precious child, must be protected. Mainly from himself, but must be protected all the same.

2. Tee Summerwine - A Pandaren coming from Toolpencil’s comics and whose character was developed mainly after Judge Dee from the book series of same name. Except Tee is more adventurous... and also more prone to panicking. Life loves to put him in distressing moments. (And his wife is secretly a dragon.)

1. Gwen - Her full name, Gwendoline, has never actually been used. She was a young girl (died at age 12) who got sort of adopted by the Cult of the Damned since she was a toddler, she grew up in Naxxramas where she was the Head Catkeeper, wore a too big cultist robe and had a prosthetic leg. Eventually she had been sent as a field-informant (that is: a spy) to Thoramore where she died when Jaina’s tower toppled on her. Currently she is one of Garrosh’s 37 adopted ghost children. She was the only person within the Scourge who had their shit together.

Honorable mention: Authormi - She is me except she is a bronze dragon. Life goals, folks. Life goals.

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

Phantom Confidants AU

In an alternate universe, I actually write about a P5 AU where the non-party social links are the phantom thieves of that universe. So Mishima, Hifumi, Shinya, Sojiro, Toranosuke, Iwai, Takemi, Ohya, Chihaya, Kawakami and even Sae. Honestly I would have loved to have an animal in the group but Morgana is the only animal social link and he's an original member. But hey it's still a pretty diverse group considering it's a mix of mostly adults, some teens, and a kid. They've got a pretty badass lineup to be honest so here's how I think it'll go. 

Full plot, codenames, and Mementos chats under the cut: 

(SPOILERS AHEAD) 

Plot Your Heart Out!

So first up, who would be the new protagonist? At first I figured Mishima because he's got that work-in-progress good guy vibes. But then I checked the list and realized that most of the group are adults and not really sure if Mishima can handle the leadership role. So who else? Then it hit me. Best dad Sojiro. Think about it. He had a direct connection with Wakaba who started this whole metaverse discovery. It's the perfect setup! He helped Wakaba with her research from time to time and during one of the experiments, they had discovered the metaverse. Maybe. I'm making this up as I go. Anyways! 

The general premise is that Sojiro was the first Phantom Thief in his youth and became an urban legend later on when he retired. When he took in Futaba, he promised he'd devote himself full time into raising her so he quit the calling card business. Except fast forward many years later, he was forced to wear/rip off his mask again. 

In this AU, Sojiro already changed Futaba's heart early on so Futaba was able to enroll at Shuujin Academy. It's all fine at first until she comes home and brings up Kamoshida and how no one not even adults can lay a hand on him. Her concerns bring out his instinct protect his child from such monster. When conventional methods failed and the rumors of sexual assault is less farfetched from the truth, he didn't hesitate to start stealing hearts again. 

During the infiltration he'll most likely be able to recruit Mishima and Kawakami (both obviously carry good reasons to get back at Kamoshida). Mishima has average stats which makes him a good support member. He gets stronger with baton pass! Someone give this child a confidence booster and he will plow you. Kawakami has the best buffs which makes life so much easier. They succeed and the school becomes safe so he thought his comeback was just a one time thing. Oh he was sorely mistaken. 

At this point, gossip about the Phantom Thieves have spread and such news have even reached our local back alley doctor. During the weeks before Kamoshida's confession, Sojiro had been striking up unethical deals for medicine from her and so she connects the dots. She confronts him at the cafe during a slow night. She doesn't plan on ratting him out however she wants in. She wants him to change the heart of this one doctor and gives him a deadline (she doesn't say at first that it's because of that one girl patient although they find out anyway during the confrontation in the palace). She somehow ends up joining them during infiltration, awakens and joins the team. She is probably the closest friend/acquaintance that Sojiro had among the group before they were phantom thieves. 

Then comes my favorite arc temporary title Guns Ablaze. They're somehow managing in the metaverse but medicine can only go so far. They need good equipment and when they realized that model guns were effective in the metaverse (courtesy of Mishima experimentally bringing one with him once because real guns are illegal), they decide to shop at Untouchable. Only to somehow get roped into his yakuza blackmail drama. 

Sojiro develops a camaraderie with Iwai because they're both single parents trying hard to raise their adopted child. Definitely share the father of the year award. He joins them at the first day of infiltration because this is his fight and he will settle this with them. Hell, he doesn't even hesitate to bring a real gun with him and shoot a shadow even without a persona. Turns out the shadow yakuza is stronger than a few bullets but he faces him head on and awakens. He is Sojiro's best bro and they talk about parenting a lot. 

Halfway through though they get stuck because the shadows are surprisingly agile. Gun attacks are effective but they keep missing their shots. And you guessed it. They're going to have a kid teach them how to shoot a gun. It's embarrassing really at first, especially for the adults, but they respect Shinya for his sharpshooting skills. They hang out with Shinya a couple of times and the kid grew on to them. One time though they decided to head to the palace after training/hanging out with him but they didn't know that Shinya followed them due to some undecided plot device. He wouldn't awaken in the palace tho but he's still in awe. Some time later, the mother issue happens and he asks for their help. He asks to join them when they decide to change her heart and that's how he awakens. He is best boy. They dote on him a lot. 

Meanwhile the Phantom Thieves are gaining popularity, hence a greater demand in media. Ohya being one of those journalists assigned to write about them, accidentally discovers more than just your average article. However, good journalism is confirming facts before publishing half-truths and so she investigates further regarding Sojiro's group. She ends up frequenting either the cafe or the clinic (she tried the airsoft shop but that was too obvious). She ends up being a regular of Sojiro's curry and of Takemi's medicine (altho she just goes there to flirt err fish info). It takes a while, weeks even, but at some point, someone slips. She gets her evidence on them being Phantom Thieves but she has no plans on outing them just yet. She asks them to change the heart of her boss and they do, with her help even. She insists on tagging along and they couldn't shake her off so she comes with them. She awakens when she confronts her boss' shadow. From there on, she's been helping the team with selecting their targets because who better than a journalist? 

Recruiting Hifumi was probably the most obscure accident, mostly because I honestly can't think of a good connection just yet. There's the fact that she goes to church and Wakaba's grave is near there but even that is grasping straws. Maybe Hifumi put in a mementos request? Somehow got dragged by proximity when they went to mementos and she was just on her way to catch the late train home? I don't know. Someone help me. Chihaya too. I was thinking that Chihaya gets involved with Ohya's arc. Maybe they're friends since they both frequent the red light district. Yeah let's go with that. Chihaya is obviously the navigator of the group so she's a must have party member and Hifumi is the strategist also a must have. They work hard okay. 

Moving on! At some point they try to target the politician from Toranosuke's social link. But it becomes their shortest case ever. Tora had somehow figured that his old acquaintance could be targeted by the phantom thieves and he wants to stop the, but he has no way of contacting them. One day he went to visit that guy's place but coincidentally it was his place of distortion. Coincidentally, the phantom thieves were there and unaware of Tora's proximity. He gets pulled in with them. They never did manage to beat the Palace ruler. Instead Tora just talks it put with the shadow and the palace crumbles after negotiations succeed. Everyone's confused as to what just happened but they're not against it. Tora awakens on his own the next time he joins them, probably in Mementos. He refuses to fight but he always steps up to talk with shadows willing to negotiate. 

At this point, the phantom thieves reputation is skyrocketing. The hype is so strong that Sojiro gets a warrant of arrest. Sae hadn't confirmed it yet but she has made enough connections to point Sojiro as a suspect phantom thief. They do their own research to find out the best way to get out of this. During their investigation, they find out that there's been a suspicious pressure to have the phantom thieves arrested, abnormally so. They deduce that although Sae was an immediate threat, she was just being pulled by the strings. 

They needed to see the bigger picture and to so that, perhaps Sae was the key. They need her cooperation and to have that, they need her to have a change of heart except without the excessive guilt to render her incapacitated. They tried talking it out with her but when that failed they had no choice but had her face the facts, or rather face her shadow self. Sae awakens in her own palace, realizing how twisted her desires had become. When they escape, she asks if she could join their cause and they gladly welcome her. 

Shido is the last palace not just because of him being a corrupt prime minister but also considering the motherfucker had Wakaba murdered which makes this personal for Sojiro. After all, not only did Sojiro love Wakaba (romantically or not) but she was also the reason he was able to become a Phantom Thief in the first place. That fucking dildo Shido is long overdue to be brought down by Sojiro so that Wakaba can have some semblance of justice. Oh and Japan gets saved too I guess. (Yaldabaoth who?) 

>>Oh yeah, although Futaba isn't a thief here, it's not because she doesn't know. It's only because Sojiro forbade her and his word is law so she's still mad about that. She still helps as Alibaba though. Honestly best non-party member confidant of Sojiro and that's not just father bias talking. Okay maybe a little father bias but he's a proud dad okay. 

>>Also Morgana is a social link of Sojiro's. Except it's really just Sojiro being a softie with the cat. He has no idea what Morgana's meows mean (does he even talk/transform in this au?) but he is a good landlord and sometimes he feeds the cat better than he does Akira. 

>>Originally I didn't want Sojiro to be a Wild Card but due to Persona Tradition, in order to be a protagonist one must be a special snowflake with lots of facades inside. So I guess his velvet room would look like a cafe only without the coffee because Caroline and Justine (or just Lavenza) are kids and coffee is bad for them. Sojiro feels so uncomfortable with Igor behind the counter because for a barista to not touch them coffee beans at all, that's pretty suspicious. 

—

Codenames 'subject to change' 

Sojiro Sakura - Solo (single shot of espresso) 

Yuuki Mishima - Wolf (talk about wolf in sheep's clothing or is it the other way around?) 

Hifumi Togo - Jade or General (because shogi) 

Shinya Oda - Trigger (guns guns guns)

 Munehisa Iwai - Gecko (his tattoo) 

Tae Takemi - Witchdoctor or Plague (she protec but she also attac) 

Ichiko Ohya - Rebel (fight the power!) 

Sadayo Kawakami - Burnout (teachers have no chill) 

Chihaya Mifune - Tarot (fortune telling duh) 

Toranosuke Yoshida - Tiger (his name) 

Sae Niijima - Empress or Judge (her personality)

—

Mementos Chats: 

Ohya: No matter how much I drink every night, my body still gets hangovers sometimes. Hey, Takemi. You're a doctor, right? Know any good medicine for this? 

Takemi: I can actually prescribe you with the best medicine. Prevention. "Drink moderately" is an effectively proven motto to live by. 

—

Toranosuke: I tried checking this "phansite" and I keep seeing the "pound sign heart stolen", could you explain to me what that means? 

Mishima: ...Did you mean hashtag? I think I'll be explaining to you more than just that. 

—

Shinya: Are all adults like this? Stressed? I've been thinking about how I'm not growing up fast enough but now I think I just want to be a kid forever. 

Iwai: Smart move, kid. But don't let us get to you. Us adults are fun too, heh, when we're not too buried in bills and taxes.

— 

Iwai: Hey, know any good places to bring your kid? 

Sojiro: Depends on what he likes and the occasion. From what I heard, your kid already likes you enough so just go out and have fun with the kid. 

—

Mishima: Between studying and phantom thieving, I think I just might be better with the latter. 

Kawakami: Why? Last time I checked, your grades seem pretty okay. Are you having difficulties with any of your subjects recently? You know you can always ask me to teach you. 

—

Kawakami: I know I signed up for this but this is too exhausting! I don't even have the energy to check papers after. When I get home, I just collapse on my bed! 

Ohya: I know what you mean. I can't even make a pit stop at my favorite bar! 

—

Chihaya: I've seen shadows in my fortune tellings but to think that I'll be using it against literal shadows. The city sure is amazing ain't it. 

Hifumi: I'm not sure if it is exclusive to the city. Nevertheless, it is always fascinating to watch you work, Chihaya-san. 

—

Hifumi: Despite this group being composed mostly of adults, I find myself strangely at ease... 

Sae: Even as an adult, I agree with that sentiment. This is... a wonderful group to belong to.

—

Sae: I've been meaning to ask this but how do you juggle Phantom Thief work with your real world jobs? I honestly didn't think you had any free time to spare. As a case example, I myself only get by with four hours of sleep on slow days.

Takemi: We seriously need to reevaluate your working schedule... That or quit your job. Can't have you dying from exhaustion on us. 

—

Takemi: I may be a doctor but you all need to look after yourselves better. If any of you collapse, I'm not footing your hospital bills. 

Sojiro: What's this? Free medical advice? You've gotten soft. 

—

Sojiro: So you've been hanging out with Akira and Futaba lately? Those two can't be good influences on you. 

Shinya: They're cool, I guess. Heh, so what if they're bad influences? I hang out enough with you guys at night so that should balance it out, right?

—

Some other trivia: 

Since most of the group are adults with full time jobs, they do most of the phantom thief stuff at night 

They also work out a schedule because they have a lot of responsibilities outside phan stuff 

Still, since Sojiro is a veterinarian at this, they usually accomplish a lot in an hour or two so that helps 

Mishima and Hifumi are forbidden to do any phantom thief activities during exams week 

Meanwhile Kawakami excuses herself for the week after finals week (checking papers is exhausting okay) 

Kawakami is at the forefront of "long weekends do not touch" and "holidays touch them and you die" because teachers need those okay 

Kawakami volunteers to clean the dirty armor they find but on the condition that she gets first dibs on good armor 

Mishima still manages the phansite and he's super proud about the work they do 

Mishima visits the cafe a lot and eventually befriends Akira and Futaba 

Hifumi still speaks dramatically when giving orders or planning strategies in the metaverse 

Hifumi is actually very extra but they just let her be 

Toranosuke can't really fight much but damn he's good at them shadow negotiations 

Toranosuke can't join much because he campaigns at night but he makes it a point to be present at least once a week and during important meetings 

Shinya can't stay too late either so they either go in earlier sometimes or make up an excuse in unexpected cases 

You'd think Shinya would get teased a lot but he's actually doted upon 

Gee Shinya, how come you get to have three dads? 

Iwai and Sojiro are best dad friends and you can't tell me otherwise 

Iwai only cancels on them for father-son bonding and he usually gives them prior notice 

Ohya is the type who cancels at the last minute or arrives late 

Ohya is also the one who invites the adults out for drinks after 

Sojiro offers coffee as an alternative for those who want or may need it 

Takemi is the strict mom friend who doesn't let anyone get sick on her watch 

Takemi forbids anyone to do anything further the moment the first signs of exhaustion show 

Takemi has a special skill that makes her immune to status ailments (unlockable with social link rank up) 

Chihaya does their fortunes upon request with or without persona (she still uses her tarot cards either way) 

Chihaya still slips in her accent sometimes especially when they get ambushed 

Sae is super conscious about used to having a palace (and the only one in the team who had one) but the squad is understanding and she feels happy to be accepted even still 

Sae actually gets along pretty well with them despite their previous conflicts, which are all water under the bridge 

Sae is probably the most OP out of all of them, maybe it's because she had to face her own shadow, hmmm 

The women of the group do hang, sometimes even go out for drinks 

Hifumi joins mostly on weekends because those are in the mornings and Takemi forbids alcohol as long as the sun is out so they just window shop mostly or eat out 

More often than not, those hang outs extend into evenings so Hifumi excuses herself and Ohya now drags the rest to Crossroads 

Meanwhile the guys just chill at Cafe Leblanc, sometimes Iwai even brings his son 

They do have outings with the whole squad (sometimes plus Futaba!) 

They are a good squad, and god I love this AU

—

I uhhhh wanted to write down everything, like codename, outfit, persona, awakening scene, skills, mementos chats with each other, and all but I didn't have the time. Maybe I'll do them in another post? Maybe. Just know that I love them confidants and this au stole my heart. 

If anyone wants to add, draw, write for the Phantom Confidants AU then feel free to do so! Have fun with this idea and enjoy!!

[chainsawbettyloo]

Title: Snow Laden Confessions 

Pairing: Sidlink

Rating: Explicit

Summary:  Sidon and Link confess their love for each other after being stranded during a bad snowstorm, then proceed to find a unique way to keep themselves warm -wink, wink, nudge, nudge-

A/N: i hate thinking up titles : D

This has also been posted on my AO3 so if you’d prefer to read it there! Comments, reblogs and kudos are very much appreciated! Thanks!

-

Don’t make this weird, he thought fervently. Whatever you do, do not make this weird.

Lying curled up next to the small, currently dead fire that he knew he should give one more go at getting started again but just couldn’t work up the motivation to do so, Link hugged his legs to his chest and tried valiantly to ignore two things: the bitter cold cutting through his light, flimsy clothing to assault the vulnerable flesh underneath - why on earth had he chosen a regular old tunic over the much warmer, much sturdier Rito clothing was beyond him - a serious slip in judgement as far as he was concerned. Why did people allow him to be the Champion again? He couldn’t even competently dress himself, despite knowing the weather was going to be freezing! The cold, however, was something he was used to ignoring. It was a relatively easy thing to ignore, despite the immense discomfort it wreathed him in.

That other thing was Prince Sidon, who was sitting quietly only a couple inches away, close enough that if Link were to roll over, he would get a faceful of knee. So close, in fact, that he was completely surrounded by the Zora’s unique, pleasant scent. Every time he breathed in, his throat, lungs and mind were saturated by it. He had been surprised, at first, to discover that despite Sidon’s people having some kind of connection to fish, they didn’t at all smell like fish. Instead, Sidon, at least, gave off a salty, grassy scent - something similar to what a sunny, clear day in Lurelin village smelt like; when you got past the overwhelming odor of dead fish, that is. He’d define it as a peaceful, welcoming aroma, as well as one that was very, very distracting.

If his concentration on not thinking about it slipped for even a moment, Link found the same lines of dialogue zipping through his mind, chanting over and over again that Sidon smelled so good, so unbelievably good, how could he smell so good, how was that even possible, no one should be able to smell that good, especially not someone who spent the majority of his time in water. For a few moments, his brain would be completely overrun by the loud, incessant cacophony before he jerked back to reality, harshly chastising himself as his cheeks burned hotly with embarrassment. He knew there was so way Sidon could hear his thoughts but still, that didn’t change the fact that he was thinking them.

Don’t be weird, don’t make this weird, he told himself for what felt like the tenth millionth time since he and Sidon had coincidentally met at the edge of the river that ran through the split of the Dual Mountain just as a nasty snowstorm was picking up. It had caught them both by surprise, leaving them practically stranded as hefty snowflakes pelted down from the stone grey sky to quickly cover the world in a thick sheet of pristine white. His heart fluttered happily as he remembered the huge, relieved smile that had spread across Sidon’s handsome face when they had spotted one another. After all, it’s better to be out in dangerous weather with someone you can trust and rely on, rather than be stranded all alone. He wasn’t sure who was more thankful for their impromptu meeting, himself or Sidon but one thing for certain was that they were both very happy to be in each other’s company.

Though, it would probably be more accurate to say he was both very happy and extremely worried. The cold was easy to ignore, he had spent more than enough of his time convincing himself that he wasn’t freezing or that he wasn’t overheating that he knew how to handle being out, exposed, in bad weather. Sidon, on the other hand, was very difficult to ignore - mostly because he didn’t want to. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to roll over, prop himself up on his elbow and look up into those gorgeous, warm, golden eyes but he could recognize that would be putting himself in a dangerous situation. The mental filter he usually kept strongly in place tended to get a bit weaker whenever he was exhausted; given that he had spent the entire day climbing up the sides of both sides of the Dual Mountain just so he could get to the shrines that, for whatever horrendous reason, were at the top, it was easy to say that he, before Sidon had appeared and even more so now, was about ready to drop where he stood.

Now that Sidon was beside him, the exhaustion was still there but it was accompanied by a familiar jitteriness - the sensation he associated with his flight response, the basic and instinctual need to flee from a situation he knew posed a danger to him. Not a physical danger in this scenario as he knew that if Sidon ever were to attack him, he had probably been asking for and deserved it, but rather a sense that something that was both intangible and precious was currently in peril. All because he might not be able to keep his dumb, big mouth shut.

Don’t make this weird. Do not make this weird, he repeated over and over again as Sidon’s heavenly scent wafted around him, cocooning him in pleasantness that easily pulled his mind away from the fact that he was currently so cold that his fingers were numb. He needed to rebuild the fire, to get it going once more or he was risking hypothermia. However, that would entail rolling over, getting himself up and collecting the materials needed to make a fire, which would mean some kind of interaction between him and Sidon would most likely take place. And in his current exhausted but somehow hyped up state, he was scared of what might happen. He didn’t even really need to blurt anything out - Sidon could just smile and he knew he’d probably fall flat on his face, the tips of his ears turning the same color as the rivers of lava that ran from Death Mountains.

In other words, he’d make an ass of himself and Sidon wouldn’t just turn a blind eye to that. He would know something was going on, would probably also demand that Link tell him what it was (most likely out of fear that the cold was getting to his head - which wasn’t wrong as he was sure the cold wasn’t helping his current state), and that was something that he just couldn’t risk because the answer was one he didn’t ever plan on sharing with Sidon. And given that he didn’t want to lie to Sidon - mostly because he knew he was a terrible liar, and the Zora Prince knew the same - he just found it easier to lie on the cold ground, his limbs shivering, his teeth clenched so they wouldn’t chatter and try his best to ignore the someone who, in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t even consider snubbing.

He just needed to hold on for a little while longer. Eventually, exhaustion would overwhelm everything, as it always did, and he’d slip into a restless sleep where his dreams would be filled with Sidon’s scent, possibly even more than just his scent, then he’d awake in the morning to find the world blanketed in white, Sidon asleep by his side and probably take a few moments to gaze longingly down at the Zora Prince’s handsome face before guiltily jerking away and putting his refreshed mind on maintaining a non-weird demeanor. Then, they would continue on, same as before, nothing having changed and awkwardness avoided. He just needed to get to that point - after that, everything would be fine. He would be fine, Sidon would be fine. Their friendship would be fine.

“Link,” Sidon abruptly spoke up, his voice hesitant and soft, “are you awake?”

Suddenly, he was very grateful for his lack in motivation in getting the fire going again because if he had, Sidon would have definitely been able to see his jolt of surprise but due to the darkness brought on by the heavy, overcast sky, he was relatively sure that the Zora Prince could probably only see his general shape and nothing else. Biting back the automatic response that had arose in his throat, Link tiredly sighed inwardly at the wave of guilt that washed over him at having ignored Sidon calling out to him, and told himself that it was just for tonight, he just needed to hang on for the night and tomorrow, he would be okay. Tomorrow, he would make it up to the Zora Prince by listening attentively to every single thing he said, never letting his focus slip once.

But for now, he needed to play it safe and remain quiet.

“Are you asleep?” Sidon whispered, followed by the telltale noises of him shifting closer to where Link lay.

Again, he bit back a response, mentally apologizing Sidon for being dishonest. Struggling against the urge to hold his breath as he felt the Zora Prince lean over him, obviously inspecting his face in the dark. There were a few moments of tense silence, during which he was certain that the Zora Prince knew he was fibbing, before Sidon shifted back, let out a soft, long sigh, whispered something to himself that Link couldn’t quite make out then fell quiet once more. The guilt was in full force now, almost to the point that he couldn’t bear being quiet for a moment more.

Don’t make this weird, he chanted, over and over again, inside of his head. He knew if he were to speak up now, if he were to roll over and engage Sidon in some kind of dialogue, something would slip out that would make things weird between them. There were a lot of things he didn’t want and one of the things at the very top of the list was their relationship becoming awkward. His friendship with Sidon was very precious to him, he considered the Prince to be his closest, dearest, most beloved friend whom he could lean on, rely on, talk to about anything and he would rather march into Hyrule Castle, completely naked, armed only with a tree branch to face Calamity Ganon over doing anything that would mess up their relationship.

And if that meant swallowing down everything, clamping his mouth shut to keep words that desperately wanted to be said from falling out, then was absolutely what he was going to do.

Warmth suddenly brushed along the curve of his cheek, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. He managed to not actually do that and remain still as he tried to figure out what just touched him. It took him less than a second to realize that what was currently lightly stroking the cold skin of his cheek was none other than the backs of Sidon’s fingers. The only reason he could tell that was what it was was because he could feel the Zora Prince leaning over him, his other hand planted firmly on the ground directly in front of Link’s stomach, close enough that he could feel it pressing against him. Not to mention, just from the sensation alone, he could tell that it was somebody’s hand and given that no one was there besides him and Sidon, and since he wasn’t touching his own face, that only left the Zora Prince.

Okay, that explained the what but not exactly the why. While the Prince wasn’t at all the distant sort, he was actually quite affectionate but it was never to this extent. Hair ruffling, bear hugs (which he was sure were just normal hugs for Sidon but were more of the bear variety for him given their size differences), as well as the common Zora sign of friendly affection that Link referred to as the forehead bump because it was just Sidon lightly bumping the rounded curve of his head fin against his forehead or temple were what he was used to - simple, easy going signs of platonic love, some of them a bit rough, others a little more sweet but nothing ever this tender. The gesture was almost intimate in nature, though he was certain that that was probably just reading too much into it.

A soft pang of guilt made itself known in his heart. Maybe Sidon wanted to talk about something that was bothering him, perhaps that was why he had been inquiring as to whether he was asleep or not, and Link had ignored him. However, the guilt was quickly batted down by confusion: if Sidon wished to speak about such a something, why was he touching him in such a way? Link wracked his brain for any line of thinking or sort of problem that could lead up to him having his cheek gently, almost loving stroked while the person doing the motion was certain that the one whom the motion was being enacted on was asleep. The answer was none, he could not come up with a single, defined reason as to why the Zora Prince was touching him in such a way.

A thought sudden sprang up in his mind. Perhaps Sidon was just feeling lonely but didn’t want to be rude and wake Link up so he was just touching him in that very soft, very gentle way so he’d feel less lonely, but also wouldn’t disturb him. Yes, that had to be it! The Zora Prince wasn’t sleepy just yet so the intense quiet of their current situation was making him feel a little uncomfortable - therefore, he was initiating some kind of physical contact with Link to alleviate that but was doing so in such a way that he was certain that he wouldn’t wake him. Link mentally nodded, a little proud of his deduction skills, though the guilt sullenly crept back as he realized he had pushed Sidon into feeling such a way by ignoring him. He would definitely have to make it up to the Prince someway, somehow in the following days but for now, he would just stay still, enjoy the feeling of those long, calloused, warm fingers grazing his skin and try not to think too terribly hard about the whole thing.

He had just made up his mind to do that when he suddenly felt Sidon lean further down. For a split second, he was scared he had been caught in the act, that the Zora Prince had figured out that he was just fibbing. Hundreds of excuses screamed through his mind, each one more ludicrous and outlandish than the last but they all came to a screeching halt when he felt Sidon’s warm, firm lips press a light, fluttery kiss against the same cheek his fingers had just been caressing. Warm air slid along his skin as the Zora Prince breathed out slowly, sending a wave of tingling goosebumps across the surface of his flesh. Before his sputtering mind, which was just repeating ‘WHAT! WHAT! WHAT!’ over and over again in an annoying, maddening loop, could react to what Sidon had just done, the Zora Prince leaned down once more, nuzzling his lips against the curve of Link’s cheeks, lightly pressing kisses that became increasingly firmer and more pronounced as they move along the line of his face. Not with enough pressure that if he were truly asleep, he’d be woken up but still with what he was only a little bit hesitating to say was enthusiasm. Short, harsh breaths puffed against his skin, chasing away any trace of cold.

Meanwhile, his own breath had frozen inside of his throat, surprise at the sudden actions causing his lungs to seize. He had thought up an explanation about why Sidon had been stroking his cheek - it had been far fetched now that he actually thought about it but it had still been a reason as to why. Even with his brain currently in the state of constant, startled screaming, he knew there was no explanation as to why Sidon was kissing him to be found inside his mind. How did he explain this? This went beyond just feeling lonely, beyond needing some kind of physical connect in order to chase away the discomfort of stillness and silence.

This...this was intimate, this was beyond friendly affection. And it felt so supremely good. His exhausted, seizing mind quickly got away from ‘what’ and ‘why’, deciding instead to focus on the immensely pleasant sensation of Sidon’s lips brushing softly along his skin. Heat began to bloom in his cheeks, spreading across his face to his ears, surely turning them a bright shade of pink. Inside his chest, his heart was hammering wildly, slamming hard against his ribcage, sending reverberations of the beat throughout his entire body. Struggling to keep the pace of his breath even so Sidon wouldn’t catch on to the fact that he was awake, Link distantly wondered what he should do. He wasn’t exactly anywhere upset that Sidon was kissing him out nowhere, he was just extremely confused as to why.

A sudden disturbing thought dawned on him: what if this wasn’t really happening? What if he was halfway asleep and this was just a dream? As soon as the thought appeared in his mind, he just as quickly shoved it away. The sensations, the warmth, his own sense of perception alone was enough to tell him that this was not in any way a dream. Though, that had been the only why he had been able to think of and now, he was left again with no explanation. Maybe he should speak up? Just like the thought about how this could be a dream, that suggestion was quickly shoved away. Don’t make this weird, the mantra chanted once more inside his mind. Pretending to wake up now would most definitely make things weird.

Before he could make up his mind as to what to do, Sidon abruptly jerked away, letting out a harsh, hard exhale of breath. Link felt him lean back, away from him, and cold quickly refilled the space he had once occupied. An intensely mournful feeling suddenly filled his chest as Sidon’s scent, Sidon’s warmth slipped away from him. Swallowing hard, struggling against the impulse to turn over, grab the Zora Prince’s arm and yank him back, Link let his breath slow down, his ears trained for any noise. There was a deep sigh from Sidon followed by him softly saying, “What are you doing? Are you an idiot?”

Another sigh followed then there was nothing but silence for a very long while. It felt like a different silence than before - this one was heavier, more tense, as though there were an ominous cloud hanging directly overtop of them. Link swallowed hard again, a hint of anxiety nervously murmuring in his chest. He desperately wanted to ask what was going on with the Zora Prince but was far too scared to reveal he was awake. Pulling in a deep breath to calm his still pounding heart, Link had a short lived internal struggle of what to do that was brought to an abrupt end when Sidon suddenly reached over, gripped his shoulder and began to firmly shake him.

“Wake up, Link.” Sidon commanded in a calm but forceful voice.

He couldn’t ignore that. Pretending to be asleep now would definitely just bring to light that he had been fibbing. After letting Sidon shake him a couple of times, Link slowly opened his eyes, then out a quietly irritated noise before rolling over to face the Zora Prince. Just as he previously thought, it was so dark that he could barely make out any of Sidon’s features. Rather, all he could really see was Sidon’s outline. The Zora Prince had moved close once again and was leaning over him, his head bent down so Link guessed he was looking down at him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, a little proud of how perfectly he got the ‘I’m tired, why did you wake me up’ voice.

Sidon was silent for a few moments. Link could practically feel his gaze boring into him. Fighting against the urge to fidget under such a scrutinizing stare, Link tried to meet his eyes but since he couldn’t figure out exactly where his face was, that proved to be a bit difficult. All he could do was look back in around the place he estimated Sidon’s head to be.

“If I were to kiss you right now, what would your reaction be?” Sidon suddenly asked.

“Eh?” Was the only sound he managed to get out.

“Please just answer the question, Link.” Sidon responded firmly, though his tone sounded like false bravado.

Staring blankly up at the Zora Prince, Link slowly digested what he had just been asked. What would he do if Sidon were to kiss him right now, in this very moment? Link stared blankly up at the Zora Prince as the question flashed vibrantly in his mind’s eye. Did he mean kissing him as he had just previously done or a full blown kiss on the lips? No, now that he was thinking about it, that might be a stupid inquiry. This atmosphere, the way he could feel Sidon's gaze boring into him, he could only mean an actual kiss kiss. Still, maybe it was best to ask for some clarification so he didn't misunderstand.

“What do you mean?”

More silence from Sidon, though thankfully, it didn’t go for too long, “Here,” he said, lifting one large hand to point at Link’s mouth, “if I were to kiss you here, right now, what would your reaction be?”

“Why would you do that?” Link finally managed to ask after several moments of stunned silence. It felt like a dumb question to ask. A large part of his brain already knew the answer. Despite not being the most versed on the subject, he could, at least, put two and two together to come up with a valid reason. Not to mention, looking back to only seconds before, that just hammered home that this was what he thought it was. Wasn’t the answer obvious? But still….he needed to hear Sidon say it. Before he could answer, before he could officially shove away the mantra of ‘don’t make this weird’, he needed Sidon to say it.

For a very long, very tense moment, he thought Sidon wasn’t going to say anything. He thought for certain that the Zora Prince was going to move away, tell him to forget it before lying down on his side, facing away from Link. Anxiety fluttered inside his chest. He didn’t want that. Yes, he had just been running away and pretty much doing the exact same thing, which he now felt profoundly embarrassed at having done so - he was the Champion, and yet, he couldn’t handle something like this?! - but at the same time, he realized that, rather abruptly, he and Sidon were in a scenario he had envisioned many times, and what they both said in this moment was going to be very important to the future of their relationship.

“Sidon?” He spoke up, his voice cracking slightly, “Why?”

The Zora Prince was quiet for a moment longer before he let out a long, hard breath, his head bowing. His hand dropped away, somewhere down where Link couldn’t really see. A lump rose in his throat, his stomach muscles tightening as he anxiously watched the shape of Sidon’s broad shoulders rise then slowly fall back down. He wanted to reach out, to reach down to wherever the Zora Prince’s hands had gone so he could take one into his own, squeeze it tightly, comfortingly, in hopes that would give Sidon the courage to speak but his body refused to listen to his wants. Instead, all he could do was stare up at the Zora Prince, his heart thundering in his chest, his skin cold for another reason beside the frigidness, and a dizzying mixture of hope and anxiety whirling around inside his mind.

“I love you.” Sidon suddenly said, his voice soft and barely audible, “I’ve loved you for a very long time now. Ever since you first arrived in the Domain, I think there’s been a part of me that loved you. As time passed and we spent more and more time together, that small part grew and grew and grew until it filled my entire being with adoration, adulation for you. I thought I could hide it, that I could swallow it down and we could just be friends. I wanted to be friends with you, to be close to you, to be your confidant, someone you could turn to but I wanted so much more.”

Sidon paused, taking in another deep breath before softly continuing, “I wanted you. Not as just a friend, but as something so much more. I wanted to deeply to tell you but I was frightened. I didn’t know what would become of our friendship if I did. I-I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you but this silence...it's suffocating. I can’t keep quiet any longer, I know that now. So please,” Sidon’s head abruptly lifted and Link felt, rather than saw, the full weight of his intense glare fall upon him, “answer me. Deny me so I can put these feelings behind me and be your true and honest friend. Please, before I do something shameful.”

“No.” Link replied after several moments of silence.

He heard Sidon gasp quietly in surprise but he paid no mind to it. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he scooted forward until he was directly in front of the Zora Prince. Also ignoring the breathless question of what he was doing that came from Sidon, Link reached up, having to stretch his arms out to full length, and cupped the Zora Prince’s cold cheeks in the palm of his hands.

“You asked me what I would do.” He said softly, his voice trembling, excitement thundering through his veins, an intensely dizzying feeling bombarding his head, “Is this good enough of an answer?”

With that, he pulled the Zora Prince down while pushing himself up as far as he could go and clumsily placed his cold lips against Sidon’s, using the tips of his thumbs to guide him to where his mouth was. A startled, hard breath brushed against his nose, followed quickly by Sidon’s muscular arms wrapped around him and squeezing firmly. Pulling away from the light kiss, Link stared up into what he hoped was the Zora Prince’s eyes, took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sidon asked hazily, his voice laced with barely disguised want.

“I’ve feel the same way. I’ve loved you for so long but I’ve always been so scared to tell you. You are my most precious friend, someone who I want to remain by, to stick by your side through everything and just be with you. And I was so scared of making our relationship awkward, to ruining it and losing my closest, dearest friend that I would just tell myself to not make this weird, to not doing anything that could destroy this,” He slid down into a sitting position, his hands falling away from Sidon’s face to rest limply in his lap, “Everything is in turmoil right now, there’s tragedy and violence everywhere I turn but you are the one who makes me feel safe. No matter where we are, if I’m with you, I feel at peace, like the whole world had just vanished and everything was okay. I can talk to you about anything, turn to you about everything and loved being someone you felt the same about - that we were on the same level, we could talk openly and honestly with each other. I was so fucking scared of losing that. I couldn’t even stand the thought of it. But that didn’t change the fact that what I felt for you went beyond just friendship.” He laughed quietly, “We’ve both felt the exact same way. How did it take us this long to realize that?”

“Say it again.” Sidon whispered.

“What?” Link asked, brushing hair out of his eyes.

“How you feel about me. Please, say it again.”

Sniffing hard, his cheeks heating up again, Link let his gaze drop down to his laps, took a deep breath and said, “I love you.”

“Again...please.” Sidon whispered urgently, reaching forward to brush the backs of his fingers along Link’s flaming hot cheek.

“You say it back first.” Link said in a tone that was a little pouty. “It's not fair if it's just me.”

“I love you.” The Zora Prince said firmly without any hesitation. Stroking the pad of his thumb against Link’s lips, he whispered, “I love you so much. I want to make you mine. I want to keep you by my side always. I love you, Link.”

Leaning down abruptly, he began to pepper kisses all over Link’s warm face, whispering soft confessions of love in-between each smooch placement. Basking in the blissful attention, Link slowly turned his head every which way to give the Zora Prince access to every inch of his skin. However, a dinging thought suddenly popped up in his mind. He wasn’t bothered by the abruptness of their situation - if anything, he was glad that, if anything, despite their confessions coming out of nowhere, the entire thing had been handled far smoother than he ever would have thought and resolved so easily that it almost made him nervous. There just was something he was immensely curious about - to the point that he couldn’t really concentrate on anything other than the question flashing inside his mind. Setting his hands on Sidon’s broad shoulders, he gently pushed him away and asked, “Why now? What made you speak up now?”

He felt the Zora Prince jolt underneath his palms, accompanied with a sharp grunt of surprise. In the darkness, he saw Sidon bow his head slightly, though couldn’t tell at all what kind of expression he was wearing. Now the darkness was really starting to get annoying. He should really get that fire going again. Opening his mouth with the intent to tell Sidon he was going to do just that, he was cut off by the Zora Prince suddenly speaking up.

“I lost control of myself just now, when you were asleep. I wanted so badly to touch you, to kiss you that my restraint simply caved, and for a short moment, I allowed myself to indulge in you, all the while knowing that I had not been given permission. When I managed to regain control of myself, I realized that this was something I could not remain silent about anymore. No matter the result, I understood that it was unfair to both you and I to keep my silence. So, I chose to speak.” Sidon chuckled softly, reaching forward to lightly stroke Link’s hair, “Praise to the Goddess, you feel the same as I.”

“I do,” Link said warmly, covering the back of Sidon’s hand with his own. After hesitating for a moment, he cautiously said, “I have a confession, though.”

“Oh? What is that?”

Heat rose to his cheeks as he meekly lowered his head and said, “I was awake.”

“Huh?”

Flinching slightly in embarrassment, Link took a deep breath before continuing, his words coming out quickly, flowing free from his mouth like a strong moving current, “Just now, I was awake. Having you so close was incredibly distracting because you smell really good and I couldn’t help but to think of you but at the same time, I didn’t want to make anything weird. If things became weird, our relationship might become awkward so I was pretending to be asleep with the intent on making it to you tomorrow for ignoring you and then you started touching my cheek and then kissing me and I didn’t know what to do so I just kept quiet.” He stopped, took another deep breath and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

There was a tense moment of silence, during which he was certain Sidon was mad at him for tricking him but, to his relief, the Zora Prince abruptly burst into laughter. Cupping Link’s burning cheeks in the palms of his large hands, he gently pulled him forward into a sweet, smiling kiss, “Well, I suppose this makes us even, doesn’t it?”

Smiling back, leaning into Sidon’s touch, Link nodded, pressing his lips against the Zora Prince’s, loving the expected firmness but also the unexpected smoothness, “It does.”

Chuckling gleefully, Sidon yanked him close, muscular arms snugly closing around him. Pressing kisses all along the top of his head, the Zora Prince whispered in-between smooches, “This doesn’t feel real. I’ve dreamed of this for so long and now that I have you in my arms, it feels like a dream. It isn’t, is it, Link? Tell me this isn’t a dream, please.”

Link was about to respond when an idea suddenly popped up in his mind. Squirming lightly against Sidon’s embrace, he said, “Give me a moment. Let me do something real quick.”

Very hesitantly, as though he didn’t want to let go, Sidon moved his arms away, his hands slowly training down Link's arms. The cold immediately assaulted Link’s flushed skin, quickly driving away all memory of heat. Not bothering to put the effort to keep his teeth from chattering, Link fumbled his way over to where his pack sat. Beside it was a the last bundle of wood he had. Picking it up, he retrieved a piece of flint as well as a small dagger from inside his pack then made his way back over to the designated fire pit. After instructing Sidon to scoot a bit away, he dumped the wood onto the remains of the previous fire and, with trembling hands, took a few tries to get it going but managed to get a loud spark on the fourth try. It took a little persuasion to get the sparks into a roaring fire; however, his talents with flames was something he was bit proud of so soon enough, there was soon a splendid source of heat and light flickering away in front of him.

Smiling triumphantly to himself, he turned back to Sidon, stood up and walked over to him. Sitting down in the gap between his legs, he scooted closer, sighing happily when Sidon’s arms embraced him once more. Wiggling around until he was in a more comfortable position, he leaned his head back so he could peer up into the Zora Prince’s face, he smiled sweetly and said, “This isn’t a dream. See? I’m right here.”

“You are.” Sidon softly, his expression so warm and intensely loving that Link felt his heart skip a beat. Heat rushed to his cheeks, surely turning them a deep shade of red. He wanted to look away, but at the same, he never wanted to stop looking into Sidon’s golden eyes. Never would he have thought that he’d ever see the day that the Zora Prince would look at him in such a way. Now that it was here, now that that gaze was right in front of him, he dearly hoped that nothing would ever take it away from him.

“Are you warm enough?” Sidon asked worryingly, brushing his fingers through Link’s hair.

“I’m warming up nicely.” Link replied.

They both fell silent, simply enjoying the closeness of the other, breathing in each other’s scent. Sleepiness almost immediately swamped him as he sunk into the blissful feeling of Sidon’s warmth, skin and embrace. Yawning, he snuggled closer, ready to let himself slip into a peaceful slumber, knowing that tomorrow, he would start the day not with the suffocating, painful thought that he needed to continue hiding, to continue ensuring Sidon never knew but instead open and honest, with Sidon by his side, their fingers intertwined. That was about the most comforting promise tomorrow brought with it in a long time.

“Link?” Sidon suddenly spoke up, pulling him from his almost slumber.

“Yes?” He replied sleepily.

“Can I touch you?” The Zora Prince asked after a moment of hesitation.

“You already are.” Link said, confused.

“No-” Sidon stopped, his voice catching before quietly continuing, “I mean, down there.”

His sleepy mind couldn’t figure out what the Zora Prince was talking about for several moments. Leaning back, he stared, perplexed, up at Sidon, trying to put the pieces together. Seeming to understand that he needed some time, Sidon quietly gazed back, though Link noticed, even in the low light level, that there was a distinct blue tone to the Zora Prince’s pale cheeks. He understood that to be the Zora equivalent of blushing. As his eyes focused on that blue hint, all the pieces fell together inside of his mind and he finally understood just what Sidon was asking.

Now, it was his turn to blush. Though, instead of blue, he knew his cheeks had to be as red as rubies. Sputtering slightly, he blushed even more deeply when Sidon abruptly smiled, obviously catching on that Link had figured it out. Down there, there was nowhere else he could be talking about other than privates area. That was definitely taking a giant step forward but was he bothered by that? Tearing his gaze away from Sidon’s tantalizing golden eyes, Link stared down at his lap and was startled to find, despite being exhausted, he still had enough energy to react to that request.

Inside his loose pants, he was already semi-hard. Not yet standing to full attention but he was quickly getting there. As Sidon’s voice, asking if he could touch him down there, echoed inside his mind, his cock responded, eagerly hardening and growing. He could even feel a little patch of wetness around the head. Physically, it seemed he wasn’t bothered at all and was even ready for such a big step forward. Was there actually any complaint or doubt inside of him? He quickly searched around inside his head but came up empty in that department. There was only a soft, meek question of why so suddenly but he couldn’t find the energy to devote to that inquiry. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the abruptness - after all, this was something that both of them had been unconsciously hoping for for a long time. Sidon didn’t even have to affirm that, he could see it in his eyes. Instead, he found his heart racing, heat coursing through his veins, causing a tidal wave of goosebumps along his skin. As he registered all that, he realized that he was excited, all traces of sleep had once again been driven away in favor of thundering exhilaration at the thought that if he said yes, Sidon would happily touch him. His big hand would slip down between them until it got to his crotch and then-

“You can.” Link said in a warbling voice, not wanting to just imagine what would happen. He wanted to experience it. Not for it to just be a sweet, lovely dream as he slept underneath the wide open sky. Not for it to just be a hazy daydream as he jacked himself off, after which the shame and guilt over doing such a thing threatened to make him vomit. He was being willing, hopefully, eagerly, happily offered the real fucking thing.

And he wanted it so unbelievably bad.

“You sure?” Sidon cautiously asked, reaching down to cup Link’s chin, raising his head up so their eyes met.

His heart pounded hard against the confines of his ribs as he looked up into Sidon’s eyes. Despite the calmness of the Zora Prince’s voice, his gaze told a different story. Inside that golden sea was an intense heat, a hungry, almost desperate want that stared down at Link as though he wanted to devour him. He hadn’t been fully hard before but now, his cock was standing directly upright, pulsing and hollering that it was ready to go. Swallowing hard against the dryness in his throat, Link could only manage a short nod.

“I need you to tell me, Link.” Sidon softly urged him, leaning down, bringing that hungry gaze even closer, “Tell me that it's okay. I have already shamed myself by kissing you without permission and I swear to do that never again so tell me, speak clearly and tell me that it's okay.”

“It’s okay.” Link coughed out, his voice embarrassingly eager, his breathing uneven and patchy.

The Zora Prince stared at him for a moment longer before a small smile replaced the stern, serious expression on his face. Leaning down further, he pressed a soft kiss on the tip of Link’s nose and whispered, “You are so unbelievably cute.”

Before Link could respond, Sidon’s large hand was sliding down his back, downwards towards his hip. Holding his breath in excitement and anticipation, he tried to turn his head away out of embarrassment at just how much he wanted this but Sidon kept his head in place with the hand on his chin and began to place light, fluttery kisses along the bridge of his nose, the curves of his cheek and the line of his brow. Pulling back slightly, his hand pausing at the hem of his pants, Sidon smiled warmly down at him and whispered, “So cute.”

With that statement said, the Zora Prince, without a speck of hesitation, pushed his long, calloused fingers underneath the hem of his trousers. A hard jolt raced throughout his entire body, startling the air out of his lungs. Given the length of Sidon’s fingers, as well as his own smallness in comparison to everything that was the Zora Prince, he didn’t have to move his hand much further before he was weaving through the wild, wiry pubic hair that grew in abundance around the base of his cock, sending shudders up Link spine at the sensation of his smooth fingertips rubbing softly against his sensitive skin. He expected Sidon to take it slowly, to gradually move further down until contact with his dick was made but it seemed the Zora Prince’s patience had run out. Letting out a short, hard, excited pant, Sidon plunged his hand down even further and wrapped his fingers firmly around his twitching, precum dripping member.

Letting out a loud, choking, startled cry, Link’s hips uncontrollably pistoned forward into the ring of Sidon’s fingers and immediately, as the last note of his yelp was coming out of his mouth, he was coming into his pants. Scalding hot, thick jizz spurted all inside his underwear and all over the Zora Prince’s hand. It was so abrupt that there was only a short lived, flimsy flash of pleasure that faded just as quickly as his orgasm had come. Shuddering, his cheeks burning with mortification, he tugged his chin away from Sidon’s grip, bowed his head and mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”

Instead of responding, Sidon carefully pulled his hand from Link’s pants. Frowning deeply at the removal but knowing he had no place to voice a complaint, he was about to apologize again, to explain that it's been a long time since he had gotten some relief so that’s why he had been so quick - not to mention, it was Sidon, someone he had been dreaming about touching him like that for so long so it was kind of understandable but still, didn’t change the fact that that had been embarrassingly quick, when a wet sucking sound reached his ears. Jerking his head up, his eyes widened, even more heat pouring into his cheeks. Half-lidded, hazy golden eyes gazed unabashedly down at him as Sidon slowly licked off all traces of his semen from his hand and fingers. Hard pants fell free from the Zora Prince’s open mouth. His cheeks were stained with vibrant splotches of blue. Link watched, mesmerized, as his long blue tongue slipped in-between and around his digits, loudly slurping up his jizz.

His dick, which had been softening, immediately reacted. Twitching slightly, it decided that playtime was nowhere near over yet. When Sidon pulled his now clean, but glistening with saliva, hand away, it was already semi-hard again. Smiling widely, the Zora Prince softly said, his voice a husky purr, “That was the intended end result, so why apologize?”

“It happened so quickly, though.” Link mumbled, his gaze still on those sharp, white teeth. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Sidon would bite him. He didn’t know what it would be like to be bitten but, for some reason, he really wanted to find out.

Sidon shrugged slightly, still smiling, “That doesn’t bother me. After all, this isn’t going to be the only time, correct? So why worry?”

His heart jumped excitedly inside his chest. It was obvious, of course it was but still, the promise of more, the sudden impactful knowledge that this wasn’t going to just be over once the moon had set. There was going to be more, so much more! A big smile spread across his face. Thrusting himself forward, he threw his arms around Sidon’s broad shoulders and nodded happily, “You’re right. I promise it’ll last longer next time.”

Sidon laughed heartily, wrapping his arms around him tightly, “That’s not something you have to promise. I’ll be happy no matter what, as long as I’m with you.”

Stupidly happy - that was how he felt. Happy to the point that he felt he was going stupid. Snuggling close to Sidon, he sighed contentedly, ready to just spend the rest of his night in his arms, utterly uncaring of the fact that the situation in his trousers was very soggy, but a thought suddenly occurred to him. Leaning back, he placed his hands on Sidon’s shoulders, looked up at him and said, “Not just me. Lemme do you, too.”

The Zora Prince’s eyes widened in surprise before, to Link’s distress, visibly hesitating, his golden eyes shifted away. A little worried but not wanting to jump to conclusions, he leaned to the side so he could peer into Sidon’s face, “What’s the matter?”

He remained quiet for a moment more before moving his gaze back to Link. After taking a deep breath, he slowly said, “My gential...situation is a lot different than yours.”

“I figured as much, we’re different races, after all.”

“It might be a little...overwhelming for you.” Sidon said haltingly.

Link blinked, tilted his head and said, “I’ll have to see eventually, Sidon. Unless you really don’t want me to.”

“It isn’t that! It’s not that. I just don’t want to scare you.”

Scare him? That was not remotely possible. Sidon would have a gaping mouth in place of a penis and he wouldn’t even blink. He’d find a way around it, find a way to make it work. There wasn’t much of anything that he felt could deter him away from any of this. Not to mention, now, more than ever, he really wanted to see. He actually knew nothing of Zora genitalia or reproductive activity. It wasn’t exactly something he could just ask so he had been curious before but now, it was officially piqued. He didn’t want to do anything that would make Sidon uncomfortable but he felt this was probably something they needed to go ahead and get out of the way before it became awkward.

Placing his hands on Sidon’s warm cheeks, he peered into his eyes and said, “If I’m ever scared, I’ll tell you and we’ll stop. I expect the same from you, understood? If you’re ever nervous or uncomfortable, you just need to tell me, okay?”

Sidon hesitated once more, clearly having an a short but intense internal battle before letting out a soft sigh and nodding, “Okay, understood. Sit back for a moment, I’ll need to guide you a little.”

“Nothing like a Zora biology lesson to get you in the mood.” Link replied teasingly, scooting back a few inches to give Sidon some room. There was just enough light coming from the fire that he could clearly see the entirety of the Zora Prince’s front. His eyes unconsciously traveled down to Sidon’s crotch region, which was still as smooth and unbearing of anything resembling a penis as it ever was. If he were being completely honest, he’d have to admit that curiosity was overrunning excitement. Due to Sidon’s reaction to having to show off whatever it was that was Zora genitalia, he was more eager than ever to see it.

Chuckling, Sidon spread his legs open a little bit more, fully exposing his crotch region, “Do you see it?” he asked quietly.

“See what?”

“Give me your hand.”

Link obediently offered his hand to Sidon, who gently took it into his own. Bringing his hand down to his crotch region, he gingerly pressed the palm against the dip in-between his legs. Immediately, Link caught on to what the Zora Prince had been talking about. It was a little hard to detect but there was definitely something underneath his hand. A line? No, a slit, currently closed, which means, it could most likely open, probably with a bit of stimulation. Without waiting for a verbal prompt from Sidon, Link began to gently rub the heel of his palm against the quickly becoming pronounced edges of the slit. To his delight, Sidon immediately began to react, shuddering lightly and panting softly as he gently encouraged the slit to open up, excited to see what was hidden underneath.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in his head, a way to speed along this process just a little bit. Moving his hand away, he ignored the confused look that Sidon gave him, and scooted back further back, just enough that he could lie down on his stomach with his face directly in front of Sidon’s crotch. He felt the Zora Prince start slightly but, again, paid no mind to it. Now that he was closer, he could more clearly see the slit. The edges had become much more pronounced, no longer a stark white color but instead tinged with an adorable shade of pink. He still hadn’t gotten it to open up but he could tell that he was close. It just needed a little more encourage. With his pulse pounding in his temple, his breath falling hard and fast out of his mouth, and his dick rock hard once more in his trousers, he leaned forward, stuck his tongue out and pushed it gently but firmly against the bottom of the slit. As the loud, startled moan that Sidon let out rained down onto his head, an intensely weird but somehow immensely delicious taste flooded his mouth. It was sweet and bitter at the same time, a bizarre combination that immediately made him feel dizzy.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, the scent of Sidon’s musk driving the dizziness a notch further, he ran his tongue up the length of the slit, pausing at the top to suck lightly. He actually had no clue what he was doing or what he should do to make it feel good but he supposed the best way to find out was to try what seemed right. At least, he could tell that trying to force open the slit was a bad idea - he could imagine that probably was not a pleasant experience and it needed to happen naturally. Not that that bothered him, he was already enjoying himself. Sidon’s slit was tantalizing soft, tasted unbelievably amazing and it was clear his ministrations were well appreciated, if Sidon’s gasps and moans were any indication.

“Link,” he suddenly coughed out, “back up, back up!”

He didn’t want to move away but he could tell by the tone of Sidon’s voice that he should do what he says. Pulling his head back, he leaned up with the intention to ask the Zora Prince what was wrong, a little afraid he had done something to hurt him, when the slit abruptly opened up in a smooth, easy movement. A shudder passed through Sidon’s legs as two very large, pink lengths of flesh pushed themselves out to stand proudly in front of Link’s face. His mouth hung open in shock, his gaze filled with the startling sight of Sidon’s penises. The base shape, at least, looked similar to a Hylian penis but there was the similarities ended. For one, the head was shaped like an arrowhead with instead of a rounded tip, it was more angular and pointed. The texture of the penises almost, from look alone, seemed to be rubbery almost, as though they were flexible. And, of course, they were big - very, very big. This came of no surprise as he couldn’t imagine someone as big as Sidon having a tiny dick, that just didn’t correlate but he never expected his member to be that big.

There was also two of them. Tilting his head slightly, his eyes glued to the throbbing, twitching dicks in front of him, he quickly decided that was probably the most important detail. In the back of his head, he vaguely wondered why he had two, what purpose did that serve but quickly decided that was a question that could be asked later. Right now, rather than being nervous or uncomfortable by the strange dicks, he was actually even more excited. This was something entirely new and he was ready, willing and eager to explore it. Swallowing down the excess saliva in his mouth, he scooted back to his original position and softly asked, “Can I touch?”

“Yes, please.” Sidon breathed.

Quickly realizing that there really was no point in lying down anymore, Link shuffled into a sitting position, got himself comfortable, ignoring the throbbing erection begging for attention inside of his pants and cautiously reached out to wrap his hand around one of Sidon’s cocks. The Zora Prince let out a sharp, short breath, his large body shivering. Now that the dick was in his hand, he found it no more strange than holding his own. It was a bit slimy but also soft, hot and throbbing. He didn’t even get closer to getting his fingers all the way around it, though. His fingers weren’t even close to touching. Slowly, he slid his hand up to the head, paying close attention to Sidon’s reactions to make sure that what he was doing was appreciated. Again, it seemed as though his actions were much appreciated since the Zora Prince was making the cutest noises and after a quick glance up, he found that his eyes were closed, his mouth was halfway parted, soft, hard pants dripping out from between his lips, and his cheeks were a brilliant shade of blue.

The head was oddly firm and spongy underneath his palm. Immediately, he could tell that, just like a Hylian penis, the head of Zora penis was a highly sensitive area. Mostly because the moment his hand wrapped around it, the reactions from Sidon intensified. What had been a minute shudder running occasionally through the Zora Prince’s large body magnified into a constant shiver. Those adorable little noises he was letting out became more frequent, as well as a bit louder. Well, seeing how that was the case, there was only one course of action he could think of to do.

Tucking a length of hair behind his head, he slipped his hand to just below the head, leaned down, opened his mouth as far as it could go, straining his jaw a little in the process and pushed the head inside. It was so big that it could barely fit but his brain barely registered that. Instead, all he could really think about was that amazing taste, how soft the skin of his dick was and just how much he wanted to sink his mouth all the way down to the base, despite that meaning it going down his throat. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to stuff his entire throat with Sidon’s cock.

He wanted Sidon to fuck his throat until it was raw.

The intense desire didn’t last for long as reason slowly bled back into his mind as the pain of his jaw being so strained brought him back to reality. Largely ignoring it but knowing he probably couldn’t keep this up for long, Link paid special attention to where his teeth were in relation to the head as he brushed his tongue against the spongy head. It was largely flat but intensely powerful tasting precum was leaking out of a small split that ran down the middle. He sucked the best he could but it proved to be a little difficult. Not that that mattered to him because Sidon...just listening to him alone was enough to nearly make him come. The normally composed, in control Zora Prince was currently gasping, mewing and melting underneath his ministrations. At some point, he had put one of his large hands on the back of Link’s head, fingers weaving through the silky strands.

He was feeling it. He was enjoying it. He was liking it. That meant more to him than any discomfort. He wanted to give him so much more, but could already tell that, just like him, Sidon was not going to last long. Quickly realizing that he was only paying attention to one of the dicks and let the other one out, Link reached around, wrapped his small hand around the large head and began to earnestly rub his palm against the flat edge.

“Link!” Sidon cried loudly.

Wishing he could smile but his mouth was just too full, he intensified his ministrations, wanting to drive Sidon to edge, wanting him to flood his mouth, to send scalding hot, copious amounts of his cum down his throat. He wanted to swallow every last drop of it. Craning his neck so he could look up at Sidon, he took great pleasure in seeing just how much he had unraveled. Mouth wide open, head thrown back, chest heaving, eyes squeezed closed, and, to his delight, a thin stream of saliva was slowly rolling down his chin - if that wasn’t the face of pleasure, he didn’t know what was. Abruptly, Sidon clenched his teeth shut, his head wrenching forward as he looked down at him with an intense, glowing gaze.

“Off!” He grounded out from behind his teeth, “Off, now!”

Not happening, Link thought distantly, hopefully conveying the same with his eyes. Though, neither of them were given the time as the moment after the words were out of Sidon’s mouth, his entire body spasmed, a loud, keening cry erupting from his mouth, his head jerking back as, inside of Link’s mouth, a different kind of eruption was happening. Link felt both of the cocks momentarily swell up before fluid was gushing in copious amounts into his mouth, He attempted to swallow it down but it soon proved to be too much. Regretfully, he pulled off, swallowing down a mouthful. However, he refused to move away so he caught the last few spurts on his face, chest and arms. Probably not the best idea, though he really didn’t care.

By the time Sidon was spent, there was a large amount of Zora jizz on him. He wasn’t covered but, understandably, it was a bit messy. Sitting back, taking the time to look down at the liquid on him, he licked away the cum from his lips. Swirling it around inside his mouth, coating every inch with the bitter taste of Sidon’s jizz, he decided that it tasted alright, not as good as what he supposed had been a natural lubrication to keep everything smooth and soft but still not nearly as bad as what he’s heard Hylian jizz could taste like. Glancing over at the Zora Prince, he was surprised to discover that, in opposition to how long it took to get the penises out, it hadn’t taken any time at all for them to go back in. There was only a slight hint of the slit remaining now. Blinking hard, he tilted his head and wondered if that was a conscious or unconscious thing - did Sidon control when they come out and go back in? Another question he would need to ask later.

“Was I even any good?” Link asked curiously, as Sidon slowly slumped forward tiredly, his head bowing down towards his chest. “I’ve never done that before so I can’t imagine I was any good at it.”

“Doing something like that is unheard of among the Zora.” Sidon said softly.

“Like what?” Link asked confusedly, wiping away the jizz from his face best he could.

“What you just did with your mouth. That isn’t something Zora do, I didn’t even know that was something that could be done.”

“Because of your teeth?” Link guessed, flicking the cum from his fingers.

“Precisely. Sharp teeth and genitals don’t exactly match.” Sidon replied, slowly raising his head.

His eyes immediately widened in alarm when he saw the state Link was in. Reaching forward, he yelped out an apology and became to fervently wipe away the mess on his face. Giggling mischievously, Link took hold of Sidon’s jizz covered hand, tugged it over to his mouth and, without breaking eye contact, playfully licked away a swatch from his skin. Sidon’s eyes widened, his shoulders tensing up. Then, they abruptly slumped as his head fell forward.

“Don’t rile me up anymore, please.”

“Oh? And what will happen if I do?” Link replied teasingly, licking off another patch.

In one quick, fluid motion, Sidon suddenly reached forward, grabbed his arm, yanked him forward until their chests bumped together. For a moment, he was worried he had made him mad but that was quickly disproven when the Zora Prince’s hand landed on his backside, and firmly squeezed one of the rounded, plump globes. A powerful jolt of tingling pleasure ran up his spine, causing his penis to twitch powerfully in response. Gasping into Sidon’s shoulder, he shamelessly rubbed his butt against Sidon’s hand.

“I may not have known that the mouth could be used for such pleasure but I do know that this can be used for intercourse.” Sidon purred into his ear, “I wanted to know how to make it work with you, even though I thought it would never happen. I explored the options, learned what to do and how the two of us could do such a thing, but it only heightened my lust. And now, with you right in front of me, I want nothing more than to claim you, to mate with you but we cannot do it here. At least, that is what the rational, in-control part of me is saying but the primal part, the one driven by instincts wants to push you down, spread you open and shove myself inside.”

Part of him wanted to tell Sidon to just do it, fuck the consequences and fuck him until he couldn’t stand in the morning, to shove both of his dicks so deeply inside of him that he could feel them bumping against the bottom of his stomach but he knew that was a stupid request. Even if they did decide to do it, there was no way that even a finger was going to get inside of him, let alone even one of those massive dicks. Despite never having actually done it with a someone else, his own fingers had been inside him often enough to know that even with his small fingers, a significant amount of lube and preparation was needed. Right now, they neither had the lube nor the patience to get through the preparation process. Though he did like it when it hurt a bit, he didn’t much like the idea of a very large dick suddenly being shoved up inside him. That was a little bit too much pain for his liking.

Just going for it was tempting because he wanted to but he needed to be realistic, “Promise me that’ll be one of the first things we do when we get out of here?”

Sidon chuckled, “I promise. One of? What would be the first thing?”

Link thought for a moment before easily replying, “I really want to sleep in a bed together with you. No playing around, just wrapped up in your arms and sleeping by your side. That would be my first thing.”

“I can arrange that.” Sidon replied, lightly nuzzling his neck, “I can give you half of the request right now, however. Not a bed in sight but I would delighted to have you sleep in my arms.”

There was nothing else, at that moment, that sounded more wonderful than being wrapped up in Sidon’s arms, surrounded by his scent. Now that all the excitement was winding down, he quickly realized he was exhausted. His limbs were getting heavy, his mind was becoming sluggish and he knew that in no time at all, he would barely be able to keep his eyes open. Nodding happily, he snuggled closer to the Zora Prince, unintentionally rubbing his still hard dick against his stomach. It twitched angrily in response, almost as though it was chastising him for forgetting about it.

“Do you want me to take care of that first?” Sidon asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

Okay, strike that. There was one other thing, at that moment, that sounded more wonderful than just falling asleep. Despite being very tired, he figured he could keep himself awake for one more orgasm. Slipping his arms off Sidon’s shoulders, he slid back, pushed himself a few inches away with the heels of his feet then, while coyly smiling up at the Zora Prince, he spread open his legs, revealing the very obvious bulge in the crotch area. Waggling his hips invitingly, he said, “You’re welcome to it.”

“Then, allow me to indulge myself just a little.” Sidon said, his voice dropping once again to a low, husky purr.

Reaching forward in a startlingly smooth motion, he gripped both of his legs, yanked him back but instead of sitting in down right in front of him, he kept pulling until Link was on his back then on his shoulders then not on the ground at all but instead, held upside down, one of Sidon’s arm tightly holding him around his midsection, his back against the Zora Prince’s chest and his legs dangling uselessly above him. He was so startled by the abrupt chain of events that he barely registered the fact that somewhere along the way, Sidon had shoved his pants down, exposing his bare buttocks to the cold, night air. Once he had managed to realize that, he was given no time at all to figure out just what Sidon was planning before the Zora Prince was spreading him apart with one hand and in the next moment, something wet and incredibly hot was pressed against his opening.

Tongue, he thought distantly, his mind already going funny. Tongue, tongue, tongue, that’s his tongue, he was licking an area that Link would have never thought to put a mouth anywhere near but now that there was a tongue there, he couldn’t bring himself to think about it. All he could really focus on was that Sidon’s long, limber, talented tongue was swirling teasingly around the puckered opening, occasionally pushing against it and spreading him open just a little bit. It was a strange, foreign feeling but one that he quickly got used to, and thus, one that almost immediately had him on the brink of orgasm. He really needed to work on his endurance but for now, he allowed himself to bask in the shudders of electric pleasure flashing throughout his body, making his toes curl and his heart pound. Arching his back, grinding his butt against Sidon’s tongue, Link, needing something to hang onto, set his hands on the Zora Prince’s thighs, curling his fingers so that his fingers were digging into his scaly skin.

He was coming close, the tingling at the base of his cock growing into a steady, loud, thrumming hum. Rivers of precum were currently flooding out of the tip, flowing down to create a large puddle on his chest. Seeming to sense that his orgams was quickly coming, Sidon picked up the pace and intensity, but didn’t go quite far enough for Link. He knew he needed a little bit more. Sure, he could reach up and jerk himself off until he came but he wanted something else to make him come. Reaching forward, he gripped hold of Sidon’s wrist and said through clenched teeth, “Inside! Fuck me with your tongue!”

A mighty jolt raced through Sidon’s body but he made no complaint or argument. Instead, he pushed the tip of his scalding hot tongue directly against his opening and with absolute ease, pushed inside. Now, it was Link’s time to jolt, his eyes going wide as the distinctively odd but immensely pleasurable feeling of a wet, wiggling, talented tentacle of a tongue pushed deep into him. Crying out loudly, he held on as best he could, forcing off his orgasm through sheer power of will - not yet, don’t end just yet, just a little while longer. Somehow, he managed to keep himself from coming but Sidon seemed determined to force him to him. With a soft chuffing sound, he began to swirl his tongue around inside, pushing up against the sensitive walls in a constant assault. Cries, mews and sobs of Sidon’s name fell free from his wide open mouth, along with lines of saliva as his inside were mercilessly invaded by the Zora Prince’s tongue. His mind was completely blank, filled with nothing but a loud buzzing noise as his orgasm coiled like a spring, tighter and tighter, inside the base of his groin.

He didn’t last much longer than that. When Sidon pulled his tongue almost all the way out, only to forcefully shove it back in, his self-restraint snapped. He came quietly, only letting out a choking sob as his orgasm tore through him, his eyes and mouth clenched shut, his fingernails digging into the Zora Prince’s skin. The world behind his eyelids went momentarily white. His body shuddered pleasantly, pleasure zipping through the network of his veins. As it faded away into a golden glow, he let out a long, gasping breath, slowly opening his eyes as Sidon carefully righted him. Dizziness immediately swamped him as all the blood rushed away from his head.

“Are you alright?” Sidon asked, stroking Link’s cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“That felt amazing.” Link reverently breathed, smiling tiredly.

Sidon smiled in response, tugging Link close, pulling up his pants as he did so, “I’m glad, that was a fine experience for me as well. One I’d like to do again sometime but for now, I think it's time we actually try to get some sleep.”

Yawning widely, pretty much on the verge of passing out, Link nodded. Lying limply in the Zora Prince’s arms, he let him move him around until they were lying beside the fire with Link being the closest to it, and the Sidon behind him. Snuggled up close to his chest, safely tucked into the natural curve of his body, covered by his arms and their legs intertwined, As they relaxed into one another, Link mumbled, “I’m going to need a bath so badly tomorrow.”

“A bath and a change of clothes.” Sidon agreed.

Link fell silent, feeling himself slipping away into slumber but before he was completely gone, there was one more thing he wanted to say. Pressing a warm kiss against Sidon’s chest, he said, “I love you, Sidon.”

A kiss was pressed against the crown of his head, followed by warm breath ruffling his hair. Curling his arms tighter around him, Sidon whispered, “And I love you, my little one.”

With those simple, profound, warm words echoing inside of his mind, sending waves of comfort washing over him, Link sighed happily, buried his face into the Zora Prince's chest and finally allowed sleep to claim him.

[vin-taege]

Zodiac

Summary: Despite Yoongi’s protests, you still buy the small mirror in the antique shop rumored to bring good luck. Soon enough, a series of fortunate events happen, and so does a chain of deaths. The mirror may bring good luck, but at what cost? 

Genre: Horror, Angst, FengShui!au

Pairing: Yoongi x reader, ft. members

Disclaimer: major character death, mild depictions of gore

Legend: >> a few minutes forward 

Yoongi doesn’t believe in superstitions, much less luck. Everything you got in life was because of your own will and perseverance, not because some higher entity thought you could have it. You, on the other hand, couldn’t agree less. There wasn’t any harm in trying out so-called luck-bringing rituals. If it didn’t work, nothing bad would actually happen, right?

The first part of your relationship was a bit rocky. His hectic schedule provided you barely enough time to see each other, and when you did, he needed to rest. He left before you woke up, and arrived just after you fell asleep. Composing for artists was a difficult and stressing thing, a fact you understood. That’s why when you moved to a new house, you wanted to start anew.

You were currently shopping for furniture in an antique shop. Taking Taehyung’s advice, you wanted to go for a classy look. Plus, the prices were way cheaper than those in department stores. Yoongi had already picked a dining table and its chairs, and you just finished checking out a dresser, when you saw it. 

It was a fairly simple mirror, small enough to fit on top of your front door. It was a circular mirror, a thick octagonal border around it.. You went towards it and picked it up, its black, gold, and red colors vibrant. However, you noticed that there was a piece of cloth taped around the edges of the glass.

“May I help you?”, a voice said behind you, almost making you drop the mirror in surprise. You turned around to find one of the employees, a bored-looking teenager- who was probably annoyed at you touching their stuff.

“Oh, I was just looking. Um, do you know how much this thing costs?”, you showed him the mirror. He took it, checking the back and sides, before returning it to you. “Well, there isn’t a price tag, but I’ll ask Ms. Mei. That bagua’s pretty old, so it might cost a lot”, he said, leading you to the counter, where Yoongi was waiting for you.

Bagua.

You remembered reading about it once. In Chinese belief, it supposedly brought in good luck if you placed it at your front door. Perfect for your new home. 

You placed the bagua on the counter, earning a questioning look from Yoongi. “Another ritual, cult girl?”, he teased you. You gave him a playful slap. “There’s no harm in trying.”

The employee went through a curtain behind the counter, and came back together with an old woman. She was shorter than you, her grey hair tied into a neat bun. She was wearing a shawl over her loose, red dress. Greeting you with a smile, she took the form you filled out earlier.

“The shop can help you transport your furniture. We have a truck, and I can get one of my employees to drive them to your house”, she offered. 

“Yes, we would like that very much”, Yoongi smiled back, appreciating her thoughtfulness. She then looked at you, smile suddenly disappearing as she saw the mirror on the counter. Her expression darkened, and she even took a step back, wrinkled hands moving to pull the shawl around her tighter.

Even Yoongi noticed, and he flashed you a look of confusion. You nibbled on your lip awkwardly, the change of atmosphere evident. “Is there something wrong?” you asked her. “I wanted to ask how much this bagua costs. I saw it on one of the displays, so I thought it was on sale.”

“No!” she snapped. “No. Keep it. Y-you can have it for free. Just... be careful with it”, she said, her tone much softer this time. She hurriedly went back through the curtain, leaving behind the employee from earlier, who looked equally confused.

“I can drive the furniture. Just point out your car so I can follow you guys”, he trailed off, getting the truck keys. “Sehun, I’ll be out for a while. Man the counter”, he called out to the back of the store. You heard a faint ‘okay’, before exiting the store, with Yoongi holding your hand, the bagua clutched tightly in the other.

Fortunately, Jin and Jimin came to help move your things. It would’ve taken you two days to move just a cabinet, and a table set, and that’s even with Yoongi’s help. The table wouldn’t have been off the ground by an inch, and you’d already drop it.

“Wow, you guys got more than what you bargained for”, Jin said over a mouthful of cookies. Indeed, you did. For a cheap price, you got a small, but cozy bungalow. The inside was a plain white, which Yoongi liked since he thought it was simple.

“She even got into a fight with one agent”, Yoongi elbowed you teasingly. You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. “He was charging us way too much. The house wasn’t even that nice”, you argued, making the boys laugh.

The house you chose was near a forest, and was more on the rural side, but not too far away from the city. Most of your neighbors ran farms, so there were times a chicken or a dog would run down the streets, something you’d get used to. Taehyung was delighted to hear that, coming from a family of farmers himself, though he hasn’t visited the house yet, due to his busy school schedule.

To your luck, you didn’t have to change jobs since the shop you were working in was just a ten minute walk away. Definitely closer than your old house. 

“Noona, what’s that?” Jimin nodded towards the octagonal mirror, the reflective surface itself still covered up. You took it from its spot on the table and brought it close to your face, holding it away as you took the cover off. 

“It’s a bagua. It brings good luck apparently”, you told them as you tried to scratch the tape off. Yoongi snorted beside you. “It’s another one of those Chinese things she tried out. I gotta admit though, the incense she sprayed around in Chinese New Year did smell pretty great.”

Ignoring his comment,you finally got the cover off, and you peered into the mirror. It kind of looked like the eye-holes in hotels, where everything was slightly more rounded than normal. Weirdly, it gave off an odd feeling. Worry was tugging at your subconscious, but like Yoongi’s comment, you payed no attention to it. Maybe you were going to get a fever. It was just a mirror after all.

“Woah, that looks cool”, Jin remarked, reaching for it. Yoongi sat back as you handed him the mirror, choosing to look at you questioningly. You shrugged at him. “Hey, it’s not doing harm.” He gave you a half-smile. “I suppose not.”

“Hyung, let me see”, Jimin shifted next to Jin, seeing his own warped reflection beside the older boy’s. “Woah, it’s like those fish-eye things. Yoongi-hyung, wanna look too?”

Yoongi gave him a gentle smile. “No, I believe I’m good.” He leaned onto you, using you as a cushion. You whined, trying to push him off. He rolled his eyes, only squishing you further into the side of the couch. Jin looked at you and fake gagged, before handing back the mirror. Suddenly, a honk from outside caught your attention. 

“Ah that’s Hobi. We should get going. We don’t really trust Jungkook alone at the house”, Jimin chuckled. “I suppose so. Thanks for coming over.” you said, laughing with them. The pair got up, only to be greeted by Hoseok opening the front door. “Hobi!” you waved at him,urging him to come in. “Hello! Sorry I wasn’t able to help in the moving.” he rubbed his nape. 

He nodded at the mirror. “What’s that?” he said, moving closer to get a better look. “Oh, just a little lucky charm I got.” you replied, ignoring Yoongi’s scoffs.

“Y/n good news!” Your boss walked in as you were arranging a bouquet. The business at the flower shop has been slow, resulting in low paychecks. The salary wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the best either. The only things keeping you from resigning were your overly-nice manager and the need to help Yoongi with the expenses. 

“Yes, sir?” you placed the final rose in the center, stopping to turn to him. “Fortunately, a sudden pop-up of orders came; at least a hundred different companies and people are asking for orders.” he beamed at you.

Your jaw dropped. The shop you were in was a small one, having only a number of chains nationwide. It was highly unusual, and almost miraculous, to have a hundred orders pop out of nowhere. “W-what? Really?” a smile slowly crept, heart beating at the news. “Yes! I’m equally surprised. So, let’s work hard! About a fourth of them are due next week, so we better get going.” he patted you on the shoulder, a ringing phone drawing him out the room.

You stared at the pink cloth wrapped around the flowers. Twenty five orders were needed by next week, and God knows how much the amount was. Coincidentally, your boss came back with a long slip of paper. “Here’s a portion of the list.” he said, placing it on the counter. “I’ve already talked to Jiwoo and Hansung. They’re going to help you.” he finished, rushing out to manage another phone call.

The list was a jumble of rushed writing. Big companies were even there, and so were weddings. Determined to finish the orders by today, you looked at the first name. 

Song’s Wedding

Your heart rate sped up. Could it possibly be Song-Song couple? No way. “Y/n!” your manager’s voice brought you back to reality. “On it!” A ton of peonies and roses mixed together, making about twenty for the aisle, and another special bouquet for the bride. It was going to be a long day, but it was so worth it.

*

Yoongs <3

Yoongs <3: Really? You aren’t just joking right?

You: Yes! I’m shocked too, I mean 100 orders in one day?? wtf

You: but in a good way

Yoongs <3:  I’m so happy for you, babe :)

You: … omg screenshotted

Yoongs <3:Fuck off before I take it back

You smiled, sending a quick ‘I love you’, before putting your phone in your bag and zipping it up. Your boss was a bit too delighted and decided to send you home early. It was perfect for walking around the village and getting to memorize the way home.

Lately, the weather has been unpredictable. One moment, it rained, the next, it was incredibly hot. Thankfully, it was just right today, although it was a bit windy. A strong breeze pushed your hair back, making you hold it down with one hand. You could feel your phone vibrating in your bag. With a huff, you tried your best to get it using your free hand.

‘Goddamn,’ you muttered ‘How convenient.’ You continued grumbling, then you felt something hit your chest. A shriek left your lips, and you furiously wiped whatever landed on you off your body. You calmed down enough, seeing a small, thin, brown envelope in the ground.

It got blown away a few inches more, before you caught it by stepping on it. You reached down, and opened it. ‘Holy shit’ you thought. The thing had 50 000 won in it. 

You looked around, seeing no one looking for it. In fact, you were strangely the only person in the empty road. 

“Min Yoongi!” you screamed at him as soon as you got your phone out. “Y/n, I love you and all, but I actually need my ears to compose-”

“Yeah, whatever. Shut up and listen. Ok, so I was walking down the road, and it was windy, and there was a thing-”

“Y/n, take a deep breath, and please talk slowly.”

“Yoongi,” you squealed. “50 000 won literally got blown to me.” 

Silence followed, and at one point you thought he hung up. Then, you heard a loud thud, followed by what sounded like someone hitting a table multiple times. “You- what- how?” he managed to choke out, though you could hear extreme happiness in his tone.

“I don’t know! I was just walking, and no one seemed to look for it. I mean, we really kinda need it, babe.” you said in an uneasy way, guilt starting to follow. Maybe taking it wasn’t the most moral option, but you didn’t want to skip meals like last time. “I understand. But really, wow. I- I don’t even know what to say.”

More silence. Yoongi normally would’ve had something to say, never being a man lost for words. You didn’t notice how long you were talking until you began to see your house. “Hey, I’m home early by the way. I’m making a celebratory dinner.” you grinned. Yoongi let out a cute victory yell. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. My girlfriend’s calling for me, and there’s no way I’m passing this up.”

The news of your promotion spread fast among the boys. Despite Yoongi’s whines of having alone time, you invited the boys to your mini feast. They gladly accepted, with Taehyung excitedly coming over (and dragging Namjoon with him) within the first thirty minutes.Hoseok showed up next, fresh from his dance tournament. Jungkook texted that they’d be a bit late since they decided to make you a little present. 

“Where’s the lucky mirror?” Namjoon grinned at you. Yoongi sent you a smirk. “It’s outside. She’d gladly show you the way.”

“You sure you don’t want to look at it, babe? Might give you a small work boost.” you winked at him. He laughed and shook his head. “I’d rather stay inside and not let the food burn.” You looked at Hoseok. “I’m staying to help this guy. Plus, I’ve already seen it anyway.” he politely declined.

Shrugging, you stepped out the door, the other boys following you. Namjoon giddily came next to you, glancing up at what you were pointing to. “Oh, a bagua?” you glanced at him, surprised that he knew the term. He gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ve been reading in my spare time.”

“A what, hyung?” Taehyung said, moving next to Namjoon as he looked at the mirror. “A bagua. Something from Chinese belief.” Taehyung hummed in response, staring as the reds and golds of the mirror captivated him.

Back at the dorm, the three boys were busy preparing a meal of their own. They planned to give you a bulgogi, knowing that you’d share it and they’d get some themselves. Jin has been leading the process, telling them to wrap it up as it was getting late. 

“Jimin, just put the materials back. Look at that knife holder, it’s almost falling off. Plus, there’s tons of bowls scattered around. Move it, men!” he clapped. Jimin squinted at him. “Aish, so bossy.” he muttered. Jin ignored the comment, grabbing a glass of water. “I’m gonna change clothes. You guys look decent already, so we’re going straight out after I finish.” he rushed off, leaving the younger boys to tend to the mess.

He softly sang to himself as he entered the room, setting the glass down a bit too close to the edge of the table. His stufftoys and figurines lay messily on the floor, the older boy not finding the time to recently clean his room. Marios, Princess Peach, and a huge Donkey Kong plushie was left untouched near the table. 

He dug through his closet, carelessly throwing out shirts. He’d clean it up once he gets home. ‘Aha!’ his eyes glanced upon a simple button-down, perfect. He took his shirt off, tossing it behind him. As he was about to button the shirt, he heard something fall and looked behind him. 

The glass fell, water soaking through his shirt. He grumbled, turning his head to the door. “Kook, can you hand me the mop?” he hollered. No reply. “Kook?” he waited a few more seconds, still met by silence. He sighed, walking around the spill to a small cabinet where they kept the brooms. 

He got a mop, dragging it behind him. He trudged around the junk sprawled around his room, dodging things he could step on. However, he mis-stepped, tripping over a backpack. 

The older boy yelped, arms not fast enough from catching his fall, head hitting the edge of the table with a loud bang. His body landed on the Donkey Kong plushie, limp. 

“Jin hyung?” Jungkook called from downstairs. “Are you okay?” No reply.

“He totally left us with all the cleaning.” Jimin chuckled. Jungkook shook his head with a smile. “I mean, I’m not even surprised.” He picked up the plates and bowls they used, stacking them on top of each other. He placed them in the sink, then turned back to Jimin.

“Hyung, can you handle the others? I really don’t want to touch raw pork, especially after I just showered” Jimin nodded at him, gathering the whisks and teaspoons. “Hey, isn’t it weird how we have at least three different butcher knives, but can’t get a knife holder that actually holds the knives?” Jimin gestured to the knife holder. Jungkook shrugged. “Then again, it’s Jin hyung, ‘master of culinary arts’“ he said, adding finger quotes. 

Jimin’s phone beeped from his pocket. “It’s probably noona. You should answer her.” Jungkook told him. Obliging, he took his phone out, blindly leaning on the counter. “Hyung!”

He reluctantly drew his arm back. The chopping board was halfway off the edge, the knife holder placed on top of it. “You should look at what you’re doing.” Jungkook tsked at him. Jimin rolled his eyes. Suddenly, they heard a loud bang from upstairs, causing Jimin to drop his phone. 

They looked at each other. “Jin hyung? Jungkook called out. Knowing Jin, he probably just fell down amidst the mess of his room. However, he didn’t reply. “Are you okay?” Jungkook yelled after him again. Or maybe Jin was just playing prank. The two boys felt an unsettling feeling neither of them could explain. “I’m gonna check on him”, Jungkook muttered, leaving the kitchen.

Jimin blinked, soon crouching down to reach for it. He mindlessly scrolled through his phone, trying to get his nerves eased up. His other hand reached for the counter as he tried to pull himself up, accidentally whacking the chopping board, sending the knives and bits of pork flying.

A loosely placed butcher knife fell, blade down, landing on his neck. Jimin gasped, blood rapidly dripping down and pooling in his throat. He couldn’t find the strength to stand up, crawling on the floor instead. Pork and knives lay around him, making it difficult to maneuver.

“J-Jungkook!” his voice came out hoarse, much of a silent yell. He clutched his throat, trying to stop the bleeding. “Hyung!” he heard the younger one call from upstairs. “We need to call the ambulance! Jin, he-” But Jimin didn’t even make it to the end of the sentence.

“Someone’s late”, Namjoon impatiently muttered. It’s been an hour since they texted, and even though Jin took his time while cooking, it was never this long. Finally, Taehyung’s phone rung, and he quickly answered.

“Jungkook, where the hell- What?!” he stood up, worry etched in his face. The room fell silent, except for Jungkook’s unclear voice on the phone. “Okay. Okay, we’re going there right now. Kookie wait, we’re going there right now.” he said, getting the backpack and dragging Namjoon up.

“What? What’s happening? Why aren’t they here?” Hoseok looked at the younger boy worriedly. You walked closer to him, Yoongi following you. Taehyung pulled the phone away. “Jungkook’s in the hospital. Something bad happened. Really bad. We need to get there now.” 

You didn’t need another word from him before scrambling outside and craming into Hoseok’s car. “The one near our dorm, Daegu Hospital, something like that. Please hurry.” Taehyung told Hoseok. The older boy got the car running, and sped out. 

Taehyung directed his attention back to Jungkook’s call. “We’re on the road. Just keep talking. We’ll get there, don’t worry. Jesus- why?” he choked, tears starting to spill out.

>>>

Jungkook had his head in his hands, fingers clawing out at his hair. He hasn’t stopped crying, and he was scared. Scared and traumatized. Nurses and doctors passed by him, giving him sympathetic looks. He didn’t need their sympathy. He needed a doctor to come out and tell him that his friends were fine. That the hit Jin took to his head only resulted in a minor concussion. That the knife sticking out of Jimin’s head somehow got removed and he’s in recovery now. 

He heard footsteps shuffling down the hall, immediately hearing Namjoon’s worried voice. 

You spotted him crouched against the wall. “Kookie!” you ran to him, kneeling to his level. “What happened? Are they okay now?” you held his wrists, moving your hands to wipe his tears. Yoongi kneeled next to him. “Jungkook, what happened?”

The youngest looked up, eyes skimming over your worried faces, before stopping at Taehyung. His face was ashen, and they knew they shared the same pain. The same thing you’d experience in a few seconds.

Yoongi rubbed his back, making him calm down before he spoke. He coughed, leaning over to you as you welcomed him in your arms. Jungkook shut his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. 

“It was a freak accident. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left Jimin. I- I should’ve asked Jin to stay. I could’ve helped them”, he said, tears streaming down his face again. Hoseok joined you and Yoongi on the floor, him also starting to cry. “Jungkook. Tell us what happened.”

“Jin hyung, he bumped his head on the corner of a table. It was a sharp edge. I told him to tape it or something since it was so sharp. I should’ve taped it myself, then maybe he wouldn’t-”

“Jungkook.” Namjoon said, voice cold.

“Jimin, he-” Jungkook choked on his own words. He couldn’t forget the gruesome image, Jimin laying on the floor, a huge pool of blood coming from his neck. “I don’t know how. He- there was a kn-knife in his neck. H-he was on the floor with a knife in his neck, I think he toppled the board, I don’t know anymore..” Jungkook sobbed, burying his head further in your shoulder. 

Shock settled in everyone. It was too ridiculous to believe. You were just talking to Jin and Jimin yesterday. Jimin even texted you. They were supposed to bring bulgogi. You were supposed to have fun. The night was supposed to end anywhere else, except in a hospital, hoping that your friends were still alive. 

“For patients Kim Seokjin and Park Jimin?” A doctor approached you. You helped Jungkook shakily stand up, crowding around the doctor. “We’re his friends”, Namjoon informed him. 

The doctor stared at each of you, a sad expression plastered on his face. “Well?” Namjoon pushed, his tone alarmingly increasing. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to inform you that both patients didn’t make it. Mr. Park has lost too much blood, and Mr. Kim suffered heavy trauma to the brain, resulting in a blood clot.”

“And you can’t do anything about that?” Namjoon snapped at him. He glared in response. “The knife that fell on your friend’s neck hit two nerves, something impossible to treat with the time it took to get there. He was dead on arrival. The blow Seokjin suffered was forceful enough to form a small dent in his skull, and cause a blood clot. I’m sorry, but we couldn’t do anything.”

“That’s just bullshit! You could’ve at least tried harder with Jin. You guys are doctors- you’re supposed to save people”, Namjoon took a step forward, inly to be held back by Hoseok. The doctor, now alarmed, signaled to one of the nurses. “If you think of causing a scene here, I won’t think twice of calling security”, he warned, turning his heel to attend to other patients.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Joon” Hobi whispered. Namjoon shrugged his arm off, walking towards the exit. Hoseok gave you a teary-eyed look, before going after his friend. 

You looked at Yoongi, who now had his eyes shut. “This is not happening. They’re joking right?” he scoffed. “They have got to be joking. I was talking to Jin this morning, there’s no way he’s...” No one wanted to say the word. It hung in the sullen atmosphere, where the chatter in the background turned to static and the hospital’s white walls seemed too bright.

Jungkook didn’t want to go home. Especially since all the blood and spills where still there. In fact, he never wanted to go back. It would hurt too much seeing Jin’s room, or passing by the kitchen. The thought of an empty bed across his room, where Jimin should’ve been, was unbearable. 

“Hyung, can I stay over at your house?” he was looking out the window when he said that. All four boys looked at him ready to let out a ‘yes’. “Yoongi hyung, can I?” he looked towards the older man. 

Yoongi didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at the road, thinking of how things escalated so badly. His hand held yours, and although he felt warm, it looked like he was a thousand miles away. You squeezed his hand, getting his attention. “Jungkook asked if he can stay over tonight.” you repeated. He nodded, sinking farther in his seat. 

“We need to get spare clothes though.” Taehyung slowly said, knowing it’d imply something bad. Jungkook’s faced scrunched in a mix of annoyance and anger. “I’m not going back there. Not now, not ever.” he hissed. 

“You don’t have to. You can wait in the car.” Hoseok said, already taking a left to their dorm. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You don’t know how fucking hard it is to go back there!” Jungkook sprung up. “Namjoon, you understand, right?”

Namjoon had his earphones in. He didn’t feel like discussing anything with anyone, and he just wanted to ignore the elephant in the room. Aside from Hoseok, he was the one who tried to show his friends the good side of things. However it was difficult to when there is no good side.

When Jungkook was met with stone-cold silence, Hoseok spoke up again. “I know it’s shitty to say, but trying to avoid it won’t help you. I miss them too, we all do. But we can’t bring them back, and we have to accept that.”

He pulled up on their porch, unlocking the doors. “You don’t have to go, Kook.” you said, stepping out the car. Yoongi followed you, slamming the door shut. 

“You know where their rooms are.” Yoongi said, tone flat. “Where are you going?” you asked him. He just shrugged, about to go in the kitchen, then stopping halfway. “Why? Is there something-”

“Don’t go in there, please.” He grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around. You decided not to question any further, knowing you wouldn’t want to hear the answer. He steered you upstairs, purposefully blocking your view of Jin’s room.

“Grab a few random shirts, then let’s get the hell out of here.” he said,opening Jungkook’s cabinet. You obliged, standing next to him, packing a few jeans and shirts. You included a beanie too, plus a bracelet you’ve seen him always wearing. 

“Finished?” you nodded at Yoongi, showing the bag you filled. He gave you a small smile. “Everything will be okay. I’m so proud of how strong you are right now.” he gently said, giving you a kiss on the forehead. You returned the favor by pecking him on the cheek. “We should go.”

You went out the room last, making sure to properly close the door. Then, you heard something fall from Jin’s room. You looked back, contemplating whether to tell Yoongi or not. 

“Yoongi?” he looked back at you. “Can you wait for a bit?” Although he wanted to protest, he gave in. “Make it quick. I can feel Jungkook losing his shit in the car.”

You couldn’t agree more with what he said. The place was starting to pull off a creepy feeling, but you had to know what made that sound. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you slowly went to the room.

Your heart was pounding from fear and anxiety. It better be a figment of your imagination. You reached for the knob and swung the door open.

It was as if time stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear. The room was cold, too cold. There was a big mess all around, and you saw a small puddle of water drying out next to a coffee table. The corner had a smear of blood on it, reminding you of the previous events. But that wasn’t the thing that caught your attention.  

Jin stood at the center of the room. He was wearing a crumpled button-down, the buttons put in lopsidedly. His hair was sticking out, and a slight dent was on his head. The side of his temple was purplish, blending in with bloodshot eyes. 

“Pay the price” he hissed at you.

You slammed the door shut, running back to Yoongi. “Get out!” you screamed at him. 

He looked up at you in a daze. “What?” 

You continued running, pulling him along with you. You’d explain in the car, or at least when you got home. You didn’t want to talk about the two boys in front of Jungkook, but this was way too messed up. You reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door a few meters away from you.

“Y/n, wait!” Yoongi tugged at you from behind, trying to get you to stop. You halted, turning around to face him. “Yoongi, you don’t understand- holy shit!” you screamed, looking behind him. 

By the kitchen entrance stood Jimin, a large knife sticking out his neck. There was blood all over him, and he had the same bloodshot eyes. He opened his mouth, a pool of blood streaming out. “Pay the price” he repeated.

Yoongi confusedly followed your gaze. “What are you-” You cut him off, bolting out the house with him in tow. You didn’t stop running until you were inside the car. The backpack was clutched tightly in your hand, and Yoongi had to pry it off. “What was that?” The other boys looked over curiously.

You were about to explain, but then you saw Jungkook’s face. His cheeks were a bit puffy. His eyes were a slight tint of red from all the crying he did. You didn’t want to give off a mocking story, so you swallowed the fear. “I just got a bit freaked out. I’m sorry. Let’s get out of here.” Yoongi nodded uneasily, and you could tell he didn’t bite into your lie.

Hoseok started the car again, driving you back home.

“Thank you”, you hugged Hoseok. The two other boys stayed in the car as Yoongi helped Jungkook with his things. “Stay safe please” you whispered. He let out a sigh. “You too. I’ll try my best to calm Namjoon down. Tae’s still...”

“In shock?” you completed, face dropping. You’ve never seen Taehyung so quiet before, and it just made the whole thing worse. The impact of Jin and Jimin’s passing was completely evident, leaving a painful effect on the boys. 

“I hope wherever they are, they’re happy.” Hoseok nodded in agreement. Without another word, he got back in the car and drove away.

You went to go inside, stopping next to Jungkook. He was standing in front of the door, staring at the bagua. “Kookie, what is it?” you gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look at you, eyes still glued to the mirror.

“I really hope it brings good luck, noona” he said, voice starting to break. “I really do.”

Jungkook’s been silent for the past few weeks. He didn’t talk unless he was spoken to, and when he did, it was one-worded answers. Sometimes even just simple grunts or nods. He’d usually stare into space, drowning out the whatever noise in the background. 

Things haven’t been the same. The funeral passed by, and none of you uttered anything about it. The boys even considered selling the apartment the three had, mainly because Jungkook knew he couldn’t stand the silence.

“Kookie, Yoongi’s gonna be back in a bit, okay?” you told him as you got your grocery bag. “Can you handle two minutes? I’m just going to buy a few things from the store.”

His eyes stayed on the TV screen, intently playing video games. He gave you a swift nod, looking over you as you passed by. 

Sometimes you forget that you moved. You were used to seeing tall buildings and buzzing cars when you went out. However, now the neighborhood’s so much simpler and nicer. A soft breeze blew gently against you. There were definitely more bushes and flowers, making the walk better. A loud bark came from behind you, making you flinch.

During the first week of your move, a few neighbors have told you about some stray dogs lurking in the forest. These were the wild kind, being a rural area. ‘Stay out of the forest, unless you have a hunter with you’, they’d say.

You walked up the steps to the small village center mall. There were stalls selling various fruit and produce around. Your grocery list was fairly small, so you thought of bringing fruits home to cheer the boys up a bit.

“Good morning, miss. Want to test your luck?” You turned your attention to the man in a suit. He was handing out a flyer advertising a ‘grand raffle’. Seeing there’s no harm in trying, you nodded thanking the paper. He smiled. “Registration is this way.”

You scanned the flyer as you followed him. The raffle showed off practical prizes, the first one being a car. Yoongi always whined about getting a car of his own, so it would’ve been amazing if you won it for him.

The man passed you a form, needing a few details like your name and contact number. “When do you announce the winners?” you asked him, dropping your raffle stub in the drop box. “In a while, actually. We initially planned to close off the entries early, but you made it! You’re the last entry for today.” 

What a coincidence.

“We’ll text you if you win.” he added. You thanked him, then carried on with your errand. You didn’t want to leave Jungkook alone, or Jungkook alone with Yoongi. The younger boy was too sensitive, and you knew your boyfriend might let the wrong words slip.

Fortunately, you easily found what was needed on your list. The line in the cashiers weren’t too long too, making your trip easier. 

As you were taking your wallet out, your phone buzzed. You handed the employee your payment, before checking your phone. There were four texts, one from Yoongi, and the others from an unknown number.

“Ma’am, here’s your change.” She handed you a few coins and your now filled bag. 

4 UNREAD MESSAGES

Yoongs <3: Babe, have you seen Hoseok?

Yoongs <3: Taehyung went home and Namjoon wasn’t there

Yoongs <3: Fuck you need to come to the hospital right now

Unknown: Congratulations! This is Lee Woo Bin from PriSeoul. I’d love to inform you that you one the first place in our raffle. You may claim your prize at the registration booth on or before the end of the month

<<<

Hoseok didn’t handle it easily. The first thing he did after the funeral was lock himself in his room and cry. When there were no more tears to shed, he ate less and danced more. Exhaustion couldn’t stop him from distracting himself. 

Usually, Taehyung or Namjoon would visit him to give him something to eat. It even took them great difficulty to convince him to come back home and rest.

“Namjoon, I’m going out for a jog.” He ran out the door, avoiding any opportunity of protest from the younger boy. He didn’t bring anything else aside from his phone, earphones, and a bottle of water. Normally, he wouldn’t bring the last one, but since he didn’t want to worry Namjoon, he did.

Their dorm wasn’t that far from your house. They lived somewhere in the middle of the city and the country, so it was pretty convenient at times when they needed to buy something. Fruits and vegetables from the countryside, and clothes from the city.

He thought of paying Jungkook a visit. He knew how traumatized he must be, seeing two of their friends dead in one night. 

Holding Onto You played as he put his earbuds in. He started to jog, not stopping even when his legs started to hurt. It was the afternoon, so the sun wasn’t scorching his skin as he ran. 

He finally halted at an intersection, looking left and right before crossing. A second just as he passed the middle, a truck zoomed passed him, nearly hitting him. He stumbled into the sidewalk, looking on as the truck passed. “Hey, I’m suing! I almost died there!” he screamed after it.

His heart beat fast in his chest. He couldn’t stand up, too scared by the encounter. The printed-on design of collars and accessories on the truck’s back stared at him as it sped into the distance. His water bottle rolled away, but he couldn’t care less about it.

When he composed himself again, he got up. He didn’t want to continue taking the same route, considering he almost got run over. Instead, he took a rumored ‘shortcut’ in the forest.

He turned and went through a row of trees, the cement soon fading into leaves and twigs. The twittering of birds surrounded him as he jogged. Relief washed over him, the beauty of it all making him forget everything bad that happened for a moment.

Seamus flowed into his ears. At first, he wasn’t into Pink Floyd much, then Namjoon suggested it to him. The main source of all his new music tastes were either Namjoon or Jungkook, as the two were ‘adventurous’ when it came to songs.

Behind the song, he heard something faint and muffled, kind of like a bark.He ignored it, thinking his earphones were just starting to break. They were old anyway, and he’s been planning on buying new ones. 

He heard it again, this time closer. Slowly, he lowered the volume, but still kept the earbuds on. He jogged faster, breaking into a full run when he heard the barks become louder.

Through shaking hands, he ripped the headset off before getting his phone out. He scrolled past his contacts, tapping Namjoon’s name. ‘Come on, pick up. Please.’ A hundred thoughts raced in his mind as he dodged bushes and trees. 

The barks were accompanied by crunching leaves now, making it apparent that something was chasing him. On instinct, he looked back, seeing a wild dog, fangs jutting out, chasing after him. Its fur was coated in dirt, and saliva dripped from its mouth.

‘Shit.’ This was too surreal. He was a few steps away from death. One wrong move and he’d die or get seriously injured. Unless he can fight the dog off. 

He whipped his head back, only to trip. In front of him was Jimin, hand outstretched to stop him. The younger boy had a blank look on his face as he stared at Hoseok. 

From the ground, Hoseok looked up, locking eyes with him. “Hyung” Jimin whispered, voice gravelly. “Hyung, it’s time.”

Just as he finished, Hoseok felt fangs sinking into his his shoulder. Claws dug into his back while the wild mutt teared at his flesh. His screams ran through the forest, sending a flock of birds flying away.

Screams turned to whimpers, and soon enough, the dog stopped. It got off his body, walking towards the phone he dropped. Namjoon was on the line for a good minute, before the dog pawed it, accidentally ending the call.

It looked around more. Seeing no predators, it scampered off, Hoseok’s blood smeared all over its fur.

Namjoon rushed out of the house. It was a good thing Taehyung wasn’t at home, because he didn’t have enough time to explain to him why. He knew were Hoseok would’ve gone too.

The older boy was someone who always put other people before himself. Who played off his own hurt, and chose to comfort others first. It was obvious he went to visit Jungkook, especially since Yoongi’s been telling them that their youngest wasn’t doing well.

He dodged a few passers-by, shouting Hoseok’s name out in the process. “Hobi! Hobi, where are you?!” he breathlessly reached the intersection. He glanced around, looking for signs of his friend. Then, he spotted something wedged under the bushes.

The familiar water bottle lay under the leaves. He took it, rubbing the dirt off the surface. “Hoseok-” he stopped mid-sentence, bumping into someone.

He looked behind him, spotting an aggravated teenager. The boy was wearing all black, starting from his baseball cap, all the way to his leather jacket. It was so awfully pretentious. His minions stood behind him, the two of them balling their fists threateningly.

“Hey,” the boy narrowed his eyes. He took the toothpick he was chewing out and threw it on the ground. “You should watch where you’re going.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. It was an accident, but I don’t have time for this.” He tried walking around them, but one boy grabbed him and pushed him back. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. My friend is missing, and I know he’s in danger. So can you just let this one go?” he scoffed at them. 

Their leader stepped forward. “I think the fuck not.” He lunged at Namjoon, delivering a punch to the boy’s stomach. The air got knocked out of him, and he stumbled because of the sudden hit. “F-fuck off. I need to find my friend.” he coughed out.

The group huddled around him, kicking and hitting him. It was three against one, and there was no way he could hurt anyone. The two boys held him in a kneeling position while the other one kept throwing punches at him. When he finally thought it was over, the boy he bumped into clutched his shoulder and forced him to stand. 

“This should teach him.” he sneered to his lackeys, before punching him one last time.

The punch might’ve been a little too hard; or they might’ve been a little too close to a fire hydrant. It wasn’t until after Namjoon fell when someone yelled at them to stop. A middle-aged man chased them off, but by the time he got there, Namjoon’s blood was already spilling on the concrete. 

Next to them was a yellow fire hydrant; a single red splat on the metal.

The road was crowded when you went out. The locals were drawn to the forest shortcut, forming a circle around a clearing. An ambulance and police cars lined the streets. Policemen were preventing the people from going in further. Inside, a few more police were investigating the scene. 

“I pity the poor boy.” you heard an old woman whisper. “I do too. He mustn't have been from here. If he was, he wouldn’t even think of going in the forest.” her friend replied.

“The authorities really should start on putting up those anger signs.” she continued.

“Mama,” a little girl tugged on the hem of her mother’s dress. “What happened to the man in the forest?” 

Her mom looked down on her, her face etched with worry. “Nothing, honey. Let’s go before daddy gets worried.” She picked her daughter up, walking away from the scene. You caught up to her, curious about the news.

“Excuse me, miss. What happened here?” you asked her. She contemplated whether to tell you in front of her daughter or not, but in the end, she set her child back down. She leaned closer to whisper to you.

“There was an accident involving the wild dogs. A man was chased down and mauled to death. I overheard the police talking, and they said he didn’t make it.”

Dread stated to fill you. Your phone buzzed again, reminding you of Yoongi. “T-thanks.” you bid her goodbye.

Yoongi <3: Y/n where are you?? We found Namjoon... his body at least

You: Babe, wasn’t Hoseok born on the year of the dog?

Yoongi <3: What? I think so. Just come here please

Namjoon lay on the hospital bed. His white clothes matched the sheets. His eyes were closed, as if he was sleeping, except he wasn’t breathing. Bruises coated his skin, and one side of his head was busted. A faint line of stitching showed on that side, much like what happened to Jin. 

Taehyung stood at the foot of the bed. Jungkook clung onto him, his head tucked into the older one’s shoulder. They both looked tired, with Taehyung’s messy hair, and the dark circles under Jungkook’s eyes. 

You stood in front of Yoongi. He was hugging you from behind, nuzzling his mouth on your hair. Though he tried to stay calm, you could feel tension in his hands. 

“This is unbelievable.” Taehyung chuckled bitterly. “This is all your fault!” he pointed a finger accusingly at you. 

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this?!”

“This all started ever since you bought that stupid mirror. First Jin, then Jimin. Now Namjoon was beaten to death, and guess what? His head exploded on a fucking fire hydrant. Even Hoseok’s missing, and god knows where he’ll turn up. Probably dead, because of you!”

“Taehyung, that’s enough!” Yoongi shouted at him. You flinched, never hearing Yoongi yell before. 

SIlence returned to the room, and you couldn’t help but think that Taehyung was right. All the fortune came to you, but you didn’t want your loved ones taken away.

“Yoongi, we should go back to the shop.”

Without Hoseok, Yoongi drove this time. Taehyung helped you find his car keys so you can use his car for a bit. The bagua was shoved in your bag, wrapped with cloth. You didn’t know how the mirror worked, so you avoided all physical contact with it for the meantime.

You wordlessly reached the shop. Yoongi got off the car first, and without waiting for you, stormed into the shop.

He was slamming the bell on the counter when you went inside, the two other boys following behind. “Anyone here? Ms. Mei? Is no one manning the store? Sehun, where the fuck are you?!” his voice rang throughout the store. 

Finally, the employee who assisted you with the furniture came out. He looked twice as annoyed, a sour frown on his face. He held a black bag and hauled it on the counter. “Sir, I would need to ask you to stop-”

“Where’s your boss? We’re returning something.” he stretched his hand out to you, gesturing for the mirror. You unzipped your bag, shuffling through your things, before handing him the bundled cloth.

“This-” he shoved it near the clerk’s face. “-has ruined our lives. Four of my friends died. Call me crazy, but they died because of this.”

His face paled upon seeing it. He stepped back, shaking his head. “Ms. Mei isn’t here, and I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Bullshit!” Yoongi drew his hand back, throwing the mirror on the ground. Glass shards lay under the now loose cloth. You felt relieved seeing the mirror broken. It means it’s over now, right? Whatever curse it had should be lifted. It was gone, and you were saved. 

“That’s not how it works.” The cashier said weakly. “Ms. Mei is not here, and never will be. She’s dead. The day after you bought the mirror, she was about to move to America. She mentioned something about wanting to get away. A few days later, her grandson called the shop. She died after getting into a horsefly attack.” He pointed to where the mirror fell.

You stared in shock. It wasn’t there anymore. The cloth and the shards were gone. Yoongi looked back at mouth hung in confusion. You checked your bag again, digging through your wallet and phone. There it was, the cloth still wrapped around it. You felt around it, trying to feel a crack. However, there were no signs of damage.

The cashier coaxed you forward. The four of you stood behind the counter, the mirror placed in between. You put your bag next to his, the weight wearing your shoulders off.

“My name’s Minseok. I’ve been running the shop with her ever since the start. She’s practically like family now, you know? I’ve seen that mirror around a few times. She had it with her, but she never talked about it or showed it to anyone. Actually, I don’t know how it got on that shelf the day you saw it. I thought she changed her mind about it and decided to sell it.” He looked at you, and you nodded.

“Before she went to America, she told me something about it. It came from a girl, way back in the 18th century. No one knew her name, and she was dubbed Lotus Feet since her feet were bounded to give her small feet, or lotus feet. During the battle of Ningpo, her family was being hunted down by the British. Food was scarce, and they were having a hard time escaping. So, they decided to leave her behind.  They thought she was a burden, so they left her for dead. This-” he tapped the mirror.

“-holds her soul. It’s evil. I know it brings luck, but if you accept the luck it brings, it takes a life in payment. In particular, those who have looked into the mirror after you.”

“But why did she die? If she knew about it, why couldn’t she do anything about it?” you asked him. The three boys were silent next to you. You could feel Taehyung’s burning stare, but decided to ignore it.

“You. You were the good luck it gave. Something she couldn’t reject. You wanted the mirror, and the curse was passed from her to you. The only way you can avoid its effects is to reject the luck it brings.” he pushed it towards you. 

“Can’t I find someone else? How do I permanently end this?” you pushed it back.

“Unless someone willingly accepts the mirror, it won’t leave you. Unless...” he paused, nibbling on his lip while he was deep in thought. 

“Unless?” Taehyung pushed on.

“Unless you can go to a Chinese blessing shop. You can destroy it there. There’s one, but it’s in another town, left from here. You should go.” He ushered you out, grabbing your bag and returning it to you. 

You bounded put the shop, waiting for Minseok as he locked the door. “I can’t come with you. I’m sorry but I need to send money to my mom, since she’s really sick.”

He walked towards Yoongi and got a pen out. “Go on that road and drive straight down until you reach the fourth intersection. Take a left, then a right, and drive until you see a ‘Welcome to Jil-An’ sign. Turn right on the second crossing, and the second building should be ‘An Liu’s Charm Shop’. Just go straight in and say Fa Mei sent you.” he instructed as he scribbled down on Yoongi’s arm. 

You got into the car, and Yoongi slammed the pedal. Through the rearview mirror, you could see Minseok’s fading form. The forest was getting larger as you ventured forward. The sun was starting to set too, and it was going to be a long night for you.

“Why can’t we just destroy it here? It’s more dangerous going there,” Taehyung looked out the window, big raindrops splattering on it rapidly. “Let’s just chuck it out the window or something.”

Along the way, you ran into a storm. It was pouring outside, and there were constant flashes of lightning. The car’s headlights provided little help with the amount of water dripping down the windshield. A twig or some leaves would slap against the car from time to time, but Yoongi was unfazed.

“We can’t do that. Didn’t you see what just happened at the shop?” he said through gritted teeth. Taehyung glared at him from the backseat. 

“Easy for you to say. You’re the only person in this damn car that hasn’t looked at that mirror, and you perfectly know you’re safe.” he leaned forward, grabbing the back of your seat.

“Taehyung, sit back down. You’re distracting him.” Jungkook murmured, though the older boy ignored him.

“See that?” he spoke, just as lightning lit up the sky. “That’s the sign of me dying soon. I’m next. I’m the stupid bastard who looked into the mirror, not you.”

Yoongi shifted gear, driving impossibly faster. You looked across to see him. Tears pooled at the edges of his eyes, ready to be released. His breathing was getting irregular, and his grip on the steering wheel was tightening. 

“It’ll just get restored again, you know that. Hyung please stop.” Jungkook whispered, pulling Taehyung back. 

The older boy pushed him off, sending him flying to the window with a thump. “Shut up! Unlike you, I don’t want to die yet!”

“What, you think I want to die? How could anyone fucking know looking into that thing would kill you? Stop putting the blame on someone and think for once.” Jungkook snarled at him, throwing a punch. 

Taehyung sat back, rubbing his throbbing jaw. Jungkook stared back at him, appalled. “Jungkook...” your eyes swept back and forth on the two boys.

“Can you please stop? We’re all suffering here.” Yoongi looked at Taehyung through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, okay? We’re trying to help here. We won’t just let you die.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Stop the car.”

“What-”

“Stop the car!”

Yoongi stepped on the brake, sending the car forward in a jolt. Taehyung's eyes flickered to the bagua you were holding, then to you. “If you won’t do anything about it, I would.

He lunged forward, grabbing the cloth from you. “Taehyung, no!” you screamed at him, trying to pull the mirror back. His hold was strong, and you couldn’t shake it off, even with Jungkook trying to pull his arms away. Yoongi clicked his seatbelt off and grabbed Taehyung’s wrist.

“Let go!” he yelled. Suddenly, Taehyung let out a pained scream. You looked up to see Jungkook forcefully biting his shoulder. Just as the younger one pulled away, he did too. With the sudden loss of contrast, Yoongi stumbled back in his seat, the mirror in his hands.

In a state of shock, he looked at it, his distorted reflection staring back at him. Frantically, he grabbed the cloth and wrapped it around the bagua again. With shaking hands, he handed it back to you. 

“No,” you whispered. “Not you too. No, Yoongi-” Tears streamed down your cheeks. You hugged him, sobbing into his chest. The two younger boys speechlessly watched on.

You felt soothing hands caressing your hair. “Baby, it’s okay. We can make it.” he gently told you. His face was close to yours, and you could feel his cheeks equally wet. Was he crying too?

You heard the door lock click, and turned your head just in time to catch a glimpse of Taehyung stepping outside. You were about to go after him, but Yoongi held you back. Jungkook, however, was out of the car within seconds. 

“Jungkook, no-” Yoongi was met a slam of the door. He turned to you. “Get your phone and call Jungkook. Tell him to go back” He readjusted the gear and backed up the road. 

You opened your bag, trying to feel the outline of your phone. ‘What?’ You opened the bag wider, turning on the inside light to get a better look. “Yoongi, this isn’t my bag.”

The bag had bands of money in it. None of it was yours, and most of the contents looked like it belonged to a man. Everything pieced together. 

“I changed bags with Minseok.” you stared at it in horror. It would be a matter of time now before something happens to the person next in line. Distressed, you rolled down the window, chucking the bag out. “I don’t want your money!”

Taehyung trudged through the forest. The wind slapped at his face, and the rain sprayed harshly against his skin. He wanted to go home. That was all he could think of. Maybe if he slept it off, he’d wake up to find that it was just dream. Hoseok would wake him up, then he’d go to the living room to find Namjoon sitting on the couch, reading the same boring book. 

Jin and Jimin would call him over to hang out, and at the end of the day, he’d have dinner at your house just as usual. 

He wanted to believe it so bad. The blinding lie was so much more comforting. It warmed him as he shivered under the trees. He brought an arm to wipe his face, not sure if he wiped away tears or raindrops. 

In the distance, he heard Jungkook call for him. “Hyung!” he whipped his head around to find a figure making its way to him. “Hyung, come back!”

He didn’t know why, but he broke out into a run. He entered the forest, trying to get away from the younger boy. Why was he running? Isn’t he tired of doing that very thing? 

Maybe he couldn’t think straight. There was no way of escaping death at this point, so what was the use of avoiding it?  The cold was distracting him, that’s for sure. Jungkook’s voice was fading, but he didn’t stop.

The ground he was stepping on started becoming muddier. He concentrated on his steps, trying not to trip. Then, a loud snap followed by excruciating pain on his leg ensued. He fell down, clutching his left leg. A bear trap bit into it, the metal hidden under the mud. 

He tried forcing it open, only to injure his fingers. He cried out. “Jungkook! Jungkook, help me!” he yanked at it, thinking of ripping it off in desperation. Pain coursed through every bone in his body. Slowly, he felt the sharp tips on his bone. 

His screams grew hoarse as he tried prying it off. Thunder covered the sound of his yells. Mud coated his body from moving on the ground too much. The rain made his hold slippery, and he could feel a chunk of his leg starting to separate. Panicked, he looked around, eyes stopping on a familiar boy silently watching behind the trees. “Hoseok hyung.”

“Yoongi, we have to go after them, and the car isn’t helping.” you sternly told him. At last, he hesitantly nodded, stepping out the car. You took your seatbelt off, grabbed the mirror, and followed suit. 

“Jungkook!” you shouted for him. “Jungkook!” Yoongi cupped his hands around his mouth. You walked more, the fog devouring the car as you got farther away. 

“Y/n,” you looked at him. His brown eyes no longer held coldness. Instead, they were filled with regret. Sadness. The boy was tired. “If something bad happens, promise me, the first thing we’ll do is to run back to that car.” you nodded, understanding his point. There was no guarantee Jungkook will make it. It hurt to sa that, but it was the truth; and you didn’t want Yoongi to go next.  

“Is that him?” Yoongi pointed at a shadowy form standing on the other side of the road. “Where-” you started to run towards it, only to have Yoongi pull you back again. A car zoomed past you, beeping loudly.

“Noona?” It was Jungkook. He started to show clearer as he jogged towards you. “Wait-” you shouted, fearing the worst. “-stay away from the road!” 

A loud honk interrupted. Jungkook was illuminated under bright headlights, like a deer caught on the road. Metal against flesh collided, and the boy was thrown a few feet away. The driver of the truck tried to regain control, only tipping the truck over. Broken milk bottles lay on the road, some of the milk turning pink around Jungkook’s body. 

Horrified, Yoongi put you behind him, and you walked back to the body. The milk turned a darker shade of red each step you took closer. Jungkook was slumped on the ground, his limbs bent at awkward angles. 

Yoongi shook his head. He reached for your hand again. “Time to go.”

You forced yourself to take our eyes off the scene. If Yoongi didn’t save you, would’ve it been over? It was unfair. The mirror knew you couldn’t reject the luck it just brought. What if it happened to Yoongi? No, not him. Dear god, anyone but him.

Various thoughts raced in your mind as you got back in the car. Yoongi started it again, absentmindedly staring out the windshield. “You know couldn’t just let you die out there right?” you nodded at him. His voice was weary, the same voice he used when he comforted you. 

The trees got replaced by pastures. Fences appeared at the side of the road. You were close. You could make it. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you passed the sign Minseok told you about. Yoongi let out a breath he was holding. He looked over to you, smiling. You smiled back, eyes glancing at the road again. 

“Yoongi!” you screamed. He swerved, however still hitting the lone chicken that was about to cross. He lost complete control of the car, sliding off the road and crashing into a fence. You felt his hand holding yours, before you were knocked unconscious.

The police found the wreckage in the morning. You woke up to an unfamiliar voice talking to you. “Miss? I think she’s conscious now. Miss, do you remember your name?” Your body ached all over. Your head was pounding, and something sharp poked at your ribs. 

A siren pierced your eardrums. You could make out the sound of mumbling, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. Bits and pieces were caught up in your brain, then you suddenly felt something soft against you.

“-lost control, and it crashed on the chicken wire fence”

“What about the other one?”

“Didn’t make it, he-”

“Miss, can you hear me?”

The voices were blending in your head. You tried opening your eyes, immediately closing them as harsh light came into view. A hand cupped over your eyes, preventing further light from coming. You blinked twice, blurry eyesight starting to focus. 

“We’re taking you to the hospital, no need to worry about anything.” 

With much effort, you turned your head to face him. Your mouth froze into a scream, looking face to face with Yoongi. His head was busted and blood was all over him. 

“Time to go, sweetheart.”

[objectivesubjectivity]

“Let’s not blow it right now / Let’s not do something we’d both regret”

In March of 2001, I went to see Reel Big Fish (and to a lesser extent, Sum 41) at the Roseland Theatre in Portland, OR. I was a sophomore in high school and throughly intrenched in the ska and pop punk revolution; this was to be a show for the ages. But while I remember little of the nerd-bro antics of RBF, the heavy metal and/or hip-hop breakdowns of soon-to-be-famous Sum 41, and literally nothing of the first band, Double O Seven, I have vivid memories of the short lived, alt-rock act, Benjamins.

Playing second on the bill, Benjamins were comprised of three pudgy dudes and a lanky bassist with an impressive Jew-fro. From the jump, they felt vastly out of place in the spiky hair, slightly emaciated, “pretty-boy” world of early 2000s pop-punk. Musically they didn’t quite fit either, pulling more from Superdrag and Weezer than New Found Glory and Blink-182. But despite all of this, they donned unwavering smiles and played furiously catchy power-pop with a joyous energy. The entire performance could be summed up with the phrase, “we’re just happy to be here.”

The next week, I went to my local record store and bought the album. That same joy flowed through every single track and I instantly fell in love. Songs like “Wonderful” and “Dr. Frank Was Right,” made it on to nearly every single one of my mix cds (partially due to merit, partially due to the fact that I was pretty sure none of my friends had ever heard of this band). I strummed my way through “Weather’s Here, Wish You Were Beautiful,” while straining my vocal chords, attempting to sing along. I turned to it when I was crushing (“You’re so great, you know / A total shooting star”) and when I was crushed (“I just want someone to be there on my birthday”). I distictly remember at least one bout of unrequited love being exercised by shouting along to “Gave it Away” (”I don’t give a FUCK who you FUCK!”). “The Art of Disappointment,” was my pearled oyster, my grand discovery, my bedrock.

Unfortunately, whatever possessed them that fateful evening at the Roseland was short lived because, by the end of the year, they had disbanded, due to in-fighting. This was to be their one and only full length album. There was no way in hell it wasn’t making my Top 100 list.

This past week, I tried desperately to listen detached from my personal history in order to provide a more objective view of what I like about the album now. And in doing so, I ran into major obstacles. “The Art of Disappointment,” possesses both the brilliance and buffoonery of a relatively unheard-of band with nothing to lose. I admired the youthful inhibition that led to its tug-at-your-heart-strings vulnerability, the unnecessary (but somehow great?) modulation of the final chorus in “Shine,” and the past-it’s-prime inclusion of the secret track busting in after about a minute of silence (the song also happens to be as good as any other track on the whole damn thing). But at the same time, that inhibition led to sloppy lyrics (“Why’re you still breathing my air?/You’re like gum in my hair,”), self-aggrandizing whose irony, or lack of, isn’t clearly defined, and the use of a bong-rip sound effect, underscoring, or more aptly, telegraphing the lyric “All those nights we spent hiding from the world.”

And it gave me pause. What other albums am I denying in order to look the other way at every misstep? Do the moments of greatness outweigh the cringe-worthy ones? Can I honestly separate my memory of this band from the way in which I approach the album now?

I ended up listening to the full thing four times to try and grapple with this decision and I came to the following conclusion: we’re only two weeks into this thing. There’s no necessity for this album to leave the contender list just yet. But, if the time comes, I’ll be ready to wish it a fond farewell. And I have a feeling Benjamins will understand. After all, they’re probably just happy to be here.

Side-note: It is purely coincidental that the first two albums in the list are from bands I discovered at concerts. And, if my memory serves me correctly, these may be the only two albums on the list from bands I discovered at concerts. Go figure.

Another side-note: I couldn’t figure out how to put this analogy into the blog so I’ll share it here: Benjamins are to Music what Freaks and Geeks is to Television. I so desperately wanted to hear/see what they would do next but never got the chance. Plus, I bet the dudes in Benjamins played D&D.

What I listened to last week (in addition to the Top 100 Contender):

Top 100 contenders in bold.

Coheed and Cambria — The Afterman: Descension

American Football — American Football (2019): This is their most consistent and engaging effort yet. Easily one of my favorites of the year so far.

Khalid — American Teen

Asamov — And Now…

Albums listened to in total: 2,261

Top 100 Contenders: 119

This week’s album: Local H — As Good As Dead

Think I missed an album? Challenge me! The list is alphabetical by letter.

[ncityzen]

TAGS (part 1... i think)

Hello friends! It’s time for me to say uninteresting facts about myself! I know it’s been a while since I was tagged in some of these but I’ve been through hell these past few days (and I’m still going but we’re going to ignore that).

I’ll divide all the tags in probably two or three posts because some of them take up a bit of space.

1. TAG 1: I was tagged by @nc-ty! Thank you!!! :))

Rules: Answer the questions then tag 5 people!

5 Things You Can Find In My Blog 1. lots of :)))))))) or :’’’) in the tags, occasionally some <333 2. heart emojis in the tags, mostly purple 3. mostly nct, day6 and then a mix of 100 other groups (mostly ikon and winner lately I think??) 4. tags that are just too long     5. omg / lmaooo

5 Things You Can Find In My Bedroom 1. Papers, notebooks, books. Everywhere except from where they should be. 2. Cookies  3. Framed pictures of me and my friends because I love them a lot  4. Clothes on the bed, on the floor, on the chair... (someone help me I’m a disaster)  5. Most probably me

5 Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do

1. Write a book  2. See a show in Broadway lol 3. Go on a proper vacation with my friends 4. Read as many good classics as I can. All of them.  5. Play the piano (I played for like eleven years but I abandoned it completely and now I miss it :(( )

5 Things That Make Me Happy 1. My dog :’’)  2. Sleeping 3. Not having any responsibilities and being able to watch movies or series all day   4. Cinema nights with my friends  5. Eating food made by my mum after spending months on my own eating horribly

5 Things I’m Currently Into 1. Procrastinating, and I’m great at it 2. nct’s new comeback!!!!  3. Bobby’s smile  4. Pentagon’s comeback (Kino dancing at the beginning is so cool!)  5. hating characters in the books I have to write essays about in my exams (Ralph from George Sand’s “Indiana”, I’m talking about you)

5 Things On My To-Do List 1. Get a decent grade in all my exams  2. Practice more Korean and German this summer  3. Spend some days at the beach with my friends (and try not to get sunburned...)  4. Start packing my bags to go back home for the summer :’)  5. Read

5 Things You Might Not Know About Me 1. I have an older brother whose name sounds really similar to Chanyeol lol 2. I am the biggest fan of Tesco’s dark chocolate ginger cookies (if you know what those are)  3. I am scared of fish and sea animals, but mostly only when they’re alive and moving and all that 

4. I cannot live without olive oil, but it has to be extra virgin and from a certain kind of olives because I’m from the south of Europe and I’m used to quality food lol (please don’t hate me, but food in the UK at least cannot compare. Also, it’s really not a very expensive luxury thing where I live)  5. I’m horrible at conversations, but just know that if we’re mutuals, I love you all a lot! 

2. SONG TAG

I was tagged by @day6sweg. Thanks a lot!!!

Instructions: You can tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to! Put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people! No Skipping!

1. Butterfly - BTS: I used to be obsessed with this song, it’s still very pretty

2. Got7 - Never Ever: Yugyeom’s voice at the beginning is my favourite thing omg

3. You are - Pentagon: such a beautiful song, Pentagon has amazing vocals

4. Really really - Winner: I’m pretty much convinced that I’ll never like any Winner song more than Baby Baby and Sentimental, but Really Really is close!

5. How People Move - AKMU: I know I don’t post any AKMU but I love their music!

6. The 7th Sense - NCT U: The legendary. The best most greatest debut ever (with Day6′s Congratulations). The 7th Sense. 

7. Fighter - Monsta X: Monsta X never disappoints :))

8. My House - 2PM: I love this song so much for some reason lol, and the MV is so nice!

9. Block B - Very Good: This song is just so energetic I love it (how many fake MCs out there?), also Taeil’s voice :0 everyone called Taeil is destined to be super talented

10. EXO CBX - Hey Mama: such a great song. Coincidentally, my mum loves it lol

I can’t believe I didn’t get any day6, I basically have their entire discography on my phone lol

I’m tagging people, but you can do these tags or the one in the next post (or the one with the pictures ugh sorry there’s so many).  @nctgr, @silenceisbetterthanbs@nc-ty, @yuto-da, @chrrybombyuta, @midnight-daydreams-11, @haitrash, @jeonwonswoon, @day6sweg

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

This summer, while a lot of Americans are going on vacation, many of the 2020 Democratic presidential candidates have been hitting the trail harder than ever — marching in Fourth of July parades in New Hampshire, pressing the flesh at a minor-league ballpark in Iowa and even frying 4,000 pounds of fish in South Carolina.

Back in May, I used data from the Des Moines Register and New England Cable News to see how many events each presidential candidate had held in Iowa and New Hampshire, the first two states to hold their presidential primaries. Today, I’m updating that analysis to include the two remaining early-voting states1 — Nevada and South Carolina — using data from the Nevada Independent and Charleston Post and Courier. And instead of looking at total events, I’m now going to look at the share of days that each Democrat has spent in the four states since they announced they were running. (Looking at the share of days rather than total events helps account for the fact that some candidates entered the race earlier than others. For a similar reason, I am limiting my analysis to the time they’ve spent running since Election Day 2018.)

Overall, although Nevada and South Carolina enjoy a prime spot on the calendar, it’s clear from the numbers that Iowa and New Hampshire are still considered the main kingmakers in the primary. Through the end of July, the 23 Democratic presidential candidates that FiveThirtyEight considers “major”2 have spent a cumulative 336 days campaigning in Iowa, 216 campaigning in New Hampshire, 74 in Nevada and 132 in South Carolina.3 The overall pattern so far goes something like this: Most candidates visit Iowa and New Hampshire a lot and Nevada and South Carolina a little. For example, this is true of former Vice President Joe Biden, Sen. Elizabeth Warren and South Bend, Indiana, Mayor Pete Buttigieg. (It is worth noting, though, that in contrast to the narrative that Biden isn’t holding as many public events as other candidates, he has spent 22 percent of his days as a declared candidate in an early state, which is pretty average for the field.) But, of course, not every candidate follows that pattern.

Everybody loves Iowa

Share of days since campaign launch that each Democratic presidential candidate has held an event in Iowa, through July 31

Candidate Share of Campaign Days Joe Sestak 44%

–

Steve Bullock 18

–

Beto O’Rourke 17

–

Tim Ryan 13

–

John Hickenlooper 13

–

Amy Klobuchar 12

–

Michael Bennet 11

–

John Delaney 11

–

Marianne Williamson 10

–

Bernie Sanders 10

–

Joe Biden 9

–

Kirsten Gillibrand 9

–

Pete Buttigieg 9

–

Elizabeth Warren 9

–

Julián Castro 8

–

Bill de Blasio 8

–

Cory Booker 8

–

Andrew Yang 7

–

Tulsi Gabbard 6

–

Kamala Harris 6

–

Jay Inslee 5

–

Seth Moulton 2

–

Tom Steyer 0

Among candidates deemed “major” by FiveThirtyEight. Excluding any visits made before Nov. 7, 2018.

Source: Des Moines Register

Let’s start in Iowa, both the first state to vote and the most popular destination for most candidates. Seventeen of the 23 candidates have spent a plurality of their early-state campaign time in the Hawkeye State.

If you calculate visits as a share of the days that each candidate has officially been in the race, former Rep. Joe Sestak has been the most active campaigner in Iowa, by far. Sestak has held at least one Iowa event on 17 different days, which may not be all that impressive in absolute terms, but considering he just got into the race six weeks ago, it means he’s spent 44 percent of his days as a declared candidate in Iowa. Furthermore, he has not yet visited any of the other three early states (although he is planning a visit to New Hampshire), suggesting that getting a foothold in Iowa is a priority for his campaign.

Montana Gov. Steve Bullock ranks a distant second for time spent in Iowa — although, at 18 percent of his campaign days, the state still represents a fair chunk of his time on the trail. Like Sestak, Bullock is white, belongs to the moderate wing of the party and has emphasized his ability to win in Republican-leaning areas (like … Iowa!). In other words, he’s exactly the kind of candidate whose hopes of winning the nomination rest on doing well in the Hawkeye State. And indeed, he has only spent 3 percent of his campaign days in any other early state. A little further down the list, Rep. Tim Ryan and former Colorado Gov. John Hickenlooper have also spent much more time in Iowa than in the other three early states combined. (Not coincidentally, they are white moderates from the middle of the country as well.)

Sen. Amy Klobuchar hasn’t focused on Iowa quite as much as Bullock, Ryan or Hickenlooper, but she has spent an above-average 12 percent of her campaign days in Iowa. That could be because the Minnesotan sees next-door Iowa as a good fit for her Midwestern persona (although unlike in New Hampshire, politicians from neighboring states haven’t historically had a special advantage in the Iowa caucuses).

By contrast, former Rep. Beto O’Rourke shows up near the top of the list of Iowa campaigners mostly because he is a relentless campaigner overall. He has spent more than a third of the 140 days since he launched his campaign in one of the four early states — most other candidates are spending less than a quarter of their time in them. So while it’s true that he has spent more time in Iowa than the other three early states, as we’ll see, he ranks high in time spent in other early states as well.

Gillibrand leads the way in NH

Share of days since campaign launch that each Democratic presidential candidate has held an event in New Hampshire, through July 31

Candidate Share of Campaign Days Kirsten Gillibrand 11%

–

Marianne Williamson 10

–

Tom Steyer 9

–

Elizabeth Warren 8

–

Seth Moulton 8

–

Beto O’Rourke 8

–

Amy Klobuchar 8

–

John Delaney 7

–

Tulsi Gabbard 7

–

Cory Booker 7

–

Michael Bennet 7

–

Pete Buttigieg 6

–

Joe Biden 6

–

Andrew Yang 6

–

Tim Ryan 5

–

Bernie Sanders 4

–

Julián Castro 4

–

John Hickenlooper 3

–

Kamala Harris 3

–

Jay Inslee 3

–

Steve Bullock 3

–

Bill de Blasio 1

–

Joe Sestak 0

Among candidates deemed “major” by FiveThirtyEight. Excluding any visits made before Nov. 7, 2018.

Source: New England Cable News

Meanwhile, the most familiar face in the Granite State is Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand. She’s spent 11 percent of her campaign days in New Hampshire and is one of just four Democrats who have spent more time in New Hampshire than in Iowa. Rep. Seth Moulton also seems to be focusing on New Hampshire, especially in contrast with Iowa; he has spent 8 percent of his campaign days in the former but just 2 percent in the latter. And a New Hampshire-centric campaign strategy might make sense for these two. New Hampshire has historically favored candidates with local ties: Gillibrand went to Dartmouth, and Moulton represents a Massachusetts congressional district on New Hampshire’s southern border.

Marianne Williamson has spent the second-largest chunk of her campaign in New Hampshire (10 percent of her campaign days), but that appears to be less indicative of her campaign strategy. Like O’Rourke, who himself is a frequent New Hampshire tourist, Williamson has been a prolific campaigner everywhere. She has spent 40 percent of her campaign days in one of the four early states, so spending 10 percent in New Hampshire just means she’s splitting things up fairly equally.

Finally, I was surprised to see that Sen. Bernie Sanders had spent just 4 percent of his campaign days in New Hampshire. The Granite State is a natural fit for Sanders, since he is from next-door Vermont and won 61 percent of the primary vote there in 2016, but he has spent more time in Iowa and South Carolina. However, I think that might be a smart campaign strategy for Sanders, as his built-in advantage in New Hampshire may allow him to do well there regardless. So by campaigning harder in Iowa, Sanders may be calculating that it increases the chances that he wins there as well as in New Hampshire, a one-two punch that would set him up well for the rest of the race. And his visits to South Carolina may demonstrate that he knows he needs to do better in a state where he got blown out in 2016.

Nevada gets overlooked

Share of days since campaign launch that each Democratic presidential candidate has held an event in Nevada, through July 31

Candidate Share of Campaign Days Marianne Williamson 8%

–

Cory Booker 4

–

Seth Moulton 4

–

Beto O’Rourke 4

–

Kamala Harris 3

–

Bernie Sanders 3

–

Julián Castro 3

–

Bill de Blasio 3

–

Elizabeth Warren 2

–

Amy Klobuchar 2

–

Joe Biden 2

–

Jay Inslee 2

–

Pete Buttigieg 1

–

Kirsten Gillibrand 1

–

Tulsi Gabbard 1

–

Andrew Yang 1

–

John Hickenlooper 1

–

Tom Steyer 0 John Delaney 0 Michael Bennet 0 Tim Ryan 0 Steve Bullock 0 Joe Sestak 0

Among candidates deemed “major” by FiveThirtyEight. Excluding any visits made before Nov. 7, 2018.

Source: Nevada Independent

  As for Nevada, no candidate has spent a plurality of their time in the Silver State. In fact, most Democrats are spending barely any time there. In the period we looked at, from the 2018 midterms to the end of July 2019, six candidates didn’t visit Nevada at all after declaring their candidacy. And all but one have spent less than 5 percent of their campaign days there. This is a bit surprising, since Nevada will be the third state to vote in 2020 — it comes before South Carolina, yet the Southern state is a more popular campaign destination.

Williamson is the only candidate to spend more than 5 percent of her time in Nevada — 8 percent of her campaign days have involved at least one event there. Part of this is because Williamson has distributed her many campaign visits almost evenly between the four early states, which means that, almost by default, she has spent more time in Nevada than any of the other candidates. Sen. Cory Booker has also tried to give equal attention to all four states, so even though Nevada is his least-visited state, he still ranks second there, having spent eight days of his campaign in the state. Moulton, perhaps surprisingly, ranked right up there with Booker, also at 4 percent. In fact, Moulton has come closer than any other candidate to making Nevada a centerpiece of his campaign strategy. Almost a quarter of his days in early states have been spent in Nevada, a higher percentage than any other candidate.

Heated race in South Carolina

Share of days since campaign launch that each Democratic presidential candidate has held an event in South Carolina, through July 31

Candidate Share of Campaign Days Marianne Williamson 11%

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Tom Steyer 9

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Kamala Harris 8

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Cory Booker 7

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Beto O’Rourke 7

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Bill de Blasio 6

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Joe Biden 5

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Bernie Sanders 5

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Michael Bennet 4

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Seth Moulton 4

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Elizabeth Warren 3

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Pete Buttigieg 3

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Kirsten Gillibrand 3

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Tim Ryan 3

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Amy Klobuchar 2

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John Hickenlooper 2

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Julián Castro 2

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Jay Inslee 2

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Andrew Yang 1

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John Delaney 1

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Tulsi Gabbard 1

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Steve Bullock 0 Joe Sestak 0

Among candidates deemed “major” by FiveThirtyEight. Excluding any visits made before Nov. 7, 2018.

Source: Charleston Post and Courier

Again, because of her packed travel schedule, Williamson (11 percent of campaign days) ranks first for the share of time spent in the Palmetto State. The latest entrant to the race, billionaire Tom Steyer, ranks second, having spent 9 percent of his campaign days in South Carolina — but he had only been actively running for 23 days as of the end of July, so that means he only spent two days so far in South Carolina. Whether he continues to prioritize South Carolina (or New Hampshire, the only other early state he visited in July) remains to be seen.

The biggest thing that jumps out from the South Carolina data, though, is how much more time Sen. Kamala Harris is spending here (8 percent of her campaign days) than in any other state. Harris has caused consternation in both Iowa and New Hampshire for not devoting as much attention to those two more traditional (and, it should be said, whiter) early states, but it’s probably smart of her to prioritize South Carolina. Harris has made efforts, with some success, to appeal to black voters, who make up a majority of the South Carolina Democratic electorate. For example, she has already won nine endorsements from members of the Congressional Black Caucus.

Honorable mentions also go to Booker and New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio. Booker has spent 7 percent of his campaign days in South Carolina, which makes it his second-most-frequented early state. (Like Harris, Booker is hoping that support from black voters will help carry him to the nomination.) And the 6 percent of his campaign days that de Blasio has spent in South Carolina also make it his second-most-visited state.

With six months to go until these states start voting, there’s obviously plenty of time for candidates’ strategies to change. But the data we have now gives us a pretty clear idea of which candidates are putting all their eggs into one early-state basket — and where candidates might want to visit next.