#crossing that line could be to the detriment of their survival

[gracemarkss]

thinking about “but there seem to be only two of them” in detour…two creatures learning to adapt to a hostile environment, fighting to survive, fending off that which encroaches and invades…strange cryptids that baffle outside observers and defy understanding. alone with each other. inextricably linked.

[merakiui]

winter woes.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, breeding, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied stalking, obsession note - strangely, jade is thrown into his mating season in the middle of winter.

Jade thought it wasn’t so bad when he woke up in a feverish fog. He assumed it would dissipate once he got to moving, but it only seemed to worsen as the day wore on. He trudged through his classes with dimming focus, reasoning that if he wasn’t about to keel over and die he could survive a few hours of lecture.

It was fine. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He’s Jade Leech, Octavinelle’s talented Vice Housewarden! A masterful actor capable of brilliant efficiency, even when he’s at his lowest.

And yet he’s never experienced a day as detrimental as this one. He’s endured his fair share of sleepless nights, stagnant days, and monthly burnout. On some level, Jade suspected it was coming when the frost began to encroach on withered plants and leafless trees. He always finds himself bogged down with an annual case of winter woes. 

This pattern of behavior isn’t any different.

Except it is. Very different, actually. Unlike his previous blues, this one is markedly unique. He’s never been this delirious before, so much so that he staggers about like he’s learning to walk all over again. Winter blankets the world in white, condemning Jade to what he believes is Mother Nature’s padded cell.

Without enough stimulation or spontaneity, how can he possibly function?

Normally, he’d take to trekking in the mountains to clear his head. The biting cold is familiar, a reminder of the comforts of home, but it doesn’t soothe him like it should. He’s restless and itchy, perpetually hot all over. His clothes aren’t helping either, clinging like seaweed. He wants to shred them to pieces and dive into the sea. Or hike in the mountains. Definitely one of those. 

Alas, even if he wanted to scale a mountain, he couldn’t. Not when they’ve called for the possibility of an avalanche.

He is, unfortunately, stuck in the dreaded rubber room with his school uniform for a straitjacket. Only the room itself is made of ice, and it’s unpleasant and isolated. He’s left alone with his thoughts and they’re swirling around his skull in a flurry of snowflakes.

Clothes are truly unbearable… How can land-dwellers possibly endure such constrictive material?

Perhaps he underestimated his own mental fortitude. It’s bad. Very bad. So bad that he’s just as startled as you are when he crosses paths with you in the hall, catches the scent of your shampoo, and sprouts fins. 

“Oh, Jade, your ears!” You’re gesturing at his face with worried urgency. He follows your line of sight and reaches to brush his fingers along the pointed webbing jutting out from the area where his ears ought to be. You take a step towards him and Jade, rather foolishly, takes one back. You blink at him, bewildered. “Is…everything okay? You seem under the weather. Want me to walk you to the infirmary? I’m going that way right now, actually.”

Jade wets his lips and swallows thickly. Did you always smell this nice? No… No, he has to focus! Right. Focus on the issue at hand. His transformation potion must be wearing off. Surely that explains the sudden surprise of… Your hips—were they always shaped so nicely, or is it just an illusion from your uniform slacks?

No, he’s sure of it. Something’s different about you. His nose wrinkles.

Sweeter. That’s it.

You smell sweet like a flower or candy. And your eyes are brighter in this light as they look up at him, glittering like pearls in the deep. You’re wearing the same uniform, but you’ve never looked more appealing. And your hips—

Jade curbs that thought before it can deteriorate his sensibility far past his control. What was the topic of conversation? It’s his turn to respond, isn’t it?

“I’m quite all right. Thank you for your concern. This is merely an error on my part. I’ve neglected the time.”

“Really?” You say it like you don’t believe him. Jade forces a smile, gluing his gaze to your face to avoid looking anywhere else. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful. Geez. Is Azul giving you a break over there?”

He chuckles. “I assure you all is well in my world.”

As it happens, his world is currently tilting and spinning and blurring, messy like a shaken terrarium. Jade’s attempt to excuse himself is made in vain, for he strides past you and immediately stumbles. You hurry to steady him, your fingers wrapped tight around his arm. Your touch sends an unusual electricity bolting up his spine, and suddenly he’s overcome with a wild urge. He wants to push you against the wall, slot his knee between your legs, and bite your lips bloody.

He could do it. He knows your preferences. He knows you like he knows his hand. Intimately acquainted, even if you’re not aware of your second shadow. 

Jade yanks himself free as if the contact is scalding. His heart skips in his chest, frenzied in a way it’s never been before.

He’s had plenty of scandalous fantasies in passing, and he was content to leave them as such. But now…

Sweat beads at his brow and rolls down his back between his shoulders. He needs to shed these layers. A wildfire rages beneath his skin. It’s the middle of winter. Why is he so hot? Surely there’s a logical explanation for…you. Looking at him. You’re looking at him.

Oh, you’re so pretty.

“Jade?” You move in again, lifting your hand to his forehead. This time, before he can jerk backwards, you pull away. “You’re burning up!”

“Is that so? I must not have noticed…”

He has a quick-witted retort to tack onto that sentence, but it’s scrambled on his tongue.

“If I may, (Name), have you always looked so…”

He pauses, tasting the adjective in his mouth. He was certain humans didn’t have the same sort of broadcasters merfolk do—the shifts in behavior that allow for successful mating. Colors and sounds, a duet of language. Special scents and other bodily cues to convey secret messages. A mutual understanding between two. The need to fulfill a biological imperative beneath the sea.

Is that what this is about? He was certain his transformation snuffed that part of his biology. He’s not a mer right now. He’s human. So then why is he feeling so…not human?

Ready is the word he thinks he’s searching for, but he’s starving and so it comes out wrong. 

“Ripe. Like fruit.”

“Uh… No?” You cough out an awkward laugh. If Jade could feel shame, it would be raking its nails across his back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know what—don’t answer that. Let’s just get you to Professor Crewel. He’ll know what to do.”

Jade spies his reflection in a nearby window. The markings under his eyes are showing through pale skin. There are flecks of scales gathered on his forehead. Mindlessly, he reaches to touch them.

You turn to look at him, and he can parse the shift in your attitude like it’s blood in the water—deliciously potent. He wants to dig his claws into you and never let go. He wants to love you until the very feeling is muddled and you’ve lost sense of what’s healthy and sane. If only you could understand, peer through his eyes for the day, and navigate the labyrinth that is his heart.

“Jade? You coming?”

He already knows what’s happening. He doesn’t need the diagnosis from Professor Crewel. He just needs you.

Before you can continue onwards in your beeline to Professor Crewel’s office, Jade seizes your hand. You don’t flinch, but you do struggle to put your confusion into words. The feeling is almost palpable, clear on your countenance like a cloudless sky. He watches you, trailing his eyes over your face and finding new things to appreciate. If he allows delusion to grip him by the throat, he can pretend the makeup is all for him—a discreet, enticing signal.

He reads it. He listens. He knows, even if it’s the furthest from what he believes it to be.

Jade clasps his hands around yours.

“Um… Okay then.” Your shoulders shudder with laughter. “Is this really you, Jade? This isn’t Floyd putting on an act again, is it?”

He shakes his head, suddenly disgruntled. Why would it be Floyd? Do you want it to be Floyd? His grip on you tightens to a possessive degree. He steps closer, not yet pressing himself against you but edging dangerously close. He doesn’t speak a word when he opens his mouth at you, revealing pearly points set in razored rows. You don’t seem to grasp the meaning behind his gaping maw, and it’s somewhat disheartening.

Logically, he’s aware of your very human ideals—ideals that fail to encapsulate the intricacies of moray courtship. Still, he hopes the sentiment comes through.

“Something wrong with your teeth?” You tilt your head and squint up at him. “They look fine to me.”

Jade shuts his mouth, considering his options. It would be much easier if this was the sea. Then he could present you with hypnotic bioluminescence, drape a chain of sea flowers around your neck, and offer you an entire month’s worth of fish. None of that is very viable on land. At the very least, he could replicate it—take you in a dark room and hope the shine in his eyes is bright enough to entice you, conjure flowers with magic, and scour the Mostro Lounge’s storage for enough food to last you through the season.

Surely the desire I feel for you transcends the great depths of the sea. He breathes out a sad sigh. I want to make you mine. I want you to look at me in the same way I look at you. Won’t you do that for me? Please…

As far as he’s aware, humans follow their own palaver when it comes to romance and attraction. What he’s learned from his time on land is that human courtship is, by his comprehension, excessively complicated. While moray courtship has clear, defined goals, each one outlined in the body language of both parties, humans baffle with the time it takes to secure a mate. Jade watches students get together and fall apart within the span of weeks. It’s fascinating. Dating is almost like a trial run—like testing a new ingredient in a recipe to see if it sweetens or sours the overall dish.

He could have gone that route; he was fully prepared to, but the human and mer sides of his brain are leaving him in a daze. It’s impossible to think like a human when his mer instincts are vibrating so intensely beneath his skin, every part of his deep-sea biology saying he ought to do it the mer way.

So he opens his mouth again.

He’s cheating when he nods at you. Somehow you work out half of his intention.

“My mouth? What about it?” It hits you then, and your eyes widen into the shape of a full moon. “Oh! You want to compare teeth size, is that it?”

Not exactly what he was aiming for, but it has you reciprocating anyway. You open your mouth to show off your teeth, and if Jade was of a more stable mindset perhaps he would have been content to simply observe. He doesn’t expect land-dwellers to know anything more than what’s taught in class.

“What do you think? Mine aren’t as cool as yours,” you say after a moment.

“I think…” He hesitates. The words are jumbled, and he almost says it in mermish. But it’s difficult to produce the syllables with his limited nasal capabilities in this form. A smile curves his lips up, and it’s so similar to Floyd’s dopey grin that it leaves you slack-jawed. “Pretty,” he says with a happy hum. “Very pretty.”

Before you can respond, his hands slide away from yours to secure tightly around your wrists. And then he’s pulling you in the opposite direction, through the main building’s many halls, until he finally arrives at his destination.

You’re tugged into the Hall of Mirrors next. Jade seems to be losing his usual gentlemanly flair, for he issues you an apologetic chuckle as an afterthought. His mer features look more defined now—even his skin tone is darkening to suit the color palette of his mer form. You weren’t in objection before, but now that you find yourself being pulled through the mirror and trapped in the bubble transport with Jade you begin to worry.

“Hey, hold on a minute! Shouldn’t we find Professor Crewel? Your transformation potion—”

The sound of shredded leather disturbs the air. Jade lifts his gloved hands for both of you to survey. His claws have ripped through the material, and he’s grown webbing beneath the tattered remains of his gloves. When he reaches for you, you flinch away.

An uncomfortable quiet falls over the bubble, only bursting once you’re inside Octavinelle Dorm.

Jade’s heart aches when he spies the unease scrawled on your face. Don’t look at me like that. Please, my pearl, don’t fear me. I would never hurt you.

Is it so wrong to want to smother you in an abundance of love? If this kind of love is forbidden on the surface, how is he meant to exist in the same world as you? It was possible for the mermaid princess and her lover. Is this not the same? It’s just love. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Right?

He curls his hands into fists and hopes the stabbing pain of his claws piercing his palms is enough to quell the urge to hold you.

“J-Jade…” Your voice is meek, a mere wobble. “Are you okay?”

He blinks, suddenly aware that blood is oozing from open wounds. “Ah… Forgive me… I’ve shown you such an ugly side.”

“No, I’m sorry! It startled me, that’s all.” You attempt a brave, albeit flat, smile. “I’m not scared. Just…surprised. Is this how all merfolk get when they’re sick?”

Jade wants to understand, but he has never known dread like that before. He’s a predator. He doesn’t need to feel fear when he instills it in others.

Still, it bothers him more than he thought it would. If you fear him… If you can’t present him with a real smile…

Is there even a point if he’s not the reason for your happiness? What is he if not the blight that destroys your flowering radiance?

Without fail, like a cruel cycle destined to burden him, the winter weather evokes morbid gloom. It darkens his consciousness like a shroud over a corpse or a cover on a mirror.

If you’re not scared, why are you keeping your distance? Am I truly so monstrous that you feel the need to cower? My love is sincere. I promise I would never hurt you.

But he would, if given the opportunity. And that’s precisely what he plans to do now.

So it catches him off guard when you surge forward to lace your hands with his. Carmine drips from his claws, pattering the floor in tiny drops. He stares at you with pupils blown wide.

“You’re my friend. Why would I find this side of you ugly? Just because you’re not at your best doesn’t mean it’s weird or bad.”

And isn’t that the worst? 

Jade’s lungs constrict when he kisses you. You try to jerk away, but he holds firm. Your lips part only briefly, and you manage a squeak of protest before he reclaims the space with ravenous intent. Your whines are swallowed whole as he all but devours your mouth like a famished animal. Sharp teeth click against your blunt ones. Jade laps at the back of your throat, savoring every gasp. You press against his chest in a weak struggle.

“S-Sto—wait. Jade—”

But even those words become appetizers for the feast that’s soon to follow.

It’s because I’m your friend that you place your trust in me. Thus, it will hurt all the more when I take that trust and crush it beneath my heel.

He’s never felt more alive, his body buzzing with exhilaration. When he pulls back, breathless and panting, you’re still reeling. He doesn’t give you any time to recuperate, for he tugs you along down the shadowed halls of Octavinelle.

You dig your heels against the tile. “Please wait! I don’t understand. What are you—”

You’re yanked forward again, and the rest of that sentence trickles into reserved silence. You hurry to keep pace with Jade as he drags you towards a door. A large indoor pool, dimly lit by the lights above, greets the both of you once it’s opened.

With furrowed brows, you glance at Jade. He’s looking right back, but it’s a strange gaze. He’s ready to pounce, just barely holding on to nonexistent restraint, every muscle riddled with tension.

“Sometimes we’re permitted to use this area for personal reasons,” Jade explains, shutting and locking the door with magic.

“Personal reasons… Like what?”

He smiles, watching the shiver roll though you. “Nothing against the rules, I assure you.”

“Right… Look, Jade, at the very least…” You wring your hands. “Um… Could you at least get in the water? I’m worried your potion’ll wear off any second now, and there’s no way I can lift you myself.”

“Your concern is much appreciated.”

He places one webbed hand on your shoulder, the other situated at your lower back. In one fluid swoop, he gathers you in his arms. You don’t have time to yell at him to put you down because he’s already striding over to the poolside.

“I do hope you’ll forgive my temperament. I confess I’m a touch impatient.” A lopsided smile strains on his flushed face. 

“Jade, don’t you dare—”

Your scream cuts through the air, echoing off the walls. He tosses you into the water without decorum. Jade sheds what’s left of his already tattered uniform and dives in just as the rest of his mer features overtake his human shell. Salt sprays around you in a resounding splash when you, coughing and spluttering, break the surface.

Jade watches your feet kick back and forth as you paddle towards the edge. The motions are hypnotic. What pretty, fragile limbs…

Gliding through the water with minimal effort, he circles you like a moon hopelessly devoted to remaining within your orbit. His hand wraps around your ankle, and he pulls you beneath the water to meet him. You struggle in his grasp, kicking and thrashing, but he doesn’t let that deter him.

Jade cradles your face in his hands. “So pretty… Like a pearl,” he clicks, his words musical and foreign to your human ears. “My treasure.”

He captures your lips in a mystifying kiss. Clumsily, his deft fingers work to peel your clothes from your person. You push back just as your bra is unclasped, gasping for air, and he allows you to surface after nearly a minute. He comes up with you, drunk off the taste of you. The world could be ending just beyond the confines of this pool and it wouldn’t even matter to him. Not right now, at least. Not when he’s at the verge of vehemence. So close. He’s so close.

“W-What’s up with you?” You cling to the pool wall, chest heaving. He follows your hand as it moves to cover your mouth. “You’re not usually like this.”

“Does it bother you?” He swims closer, effectively pinning you to the wall. He presses his nose to the dip between shoulder and neck and hums. With a boyish giggle, he smiles again. “You smell so pretty…”

“Jade…” You pat his head. “Jade.”

“Hm?”

“I… I’m flattered. Really, I am. But we can’t do this.”

He detaches himself to look at you. “We can’t?”

This time, unlike in the past, he isn’t playing dumb for the fun of it.

“I’m sorry, Jade. I think you’re a great friend, but that’s it. I tried to tell you earlier, but you wouldn’t let me.”

So that’s how you feel.

He’s cold-blooded by nature, but somehow this confession chills him more than the Northern waters ever could.

Just a friend.

“Ah. Is that so? My apologies for overstepping a boundary.”

You turn towards the wall to hide your exposed chest. “I-It’s fine…”

He admires the water droplets cascading down the slope of your shoulders. Winter woes and mating season make for a devastating combination, and Jade is the tsunami who will tear through you with reckless, remorseless abandon.

A clawed finger taps at your cheek. Defiant, you keep your gaze pinned ahead. “Are you, by chance, embarrassed?”

“O-Of course I am! Please close your eyes and don’t peek until I’m out of the pool.” With one arm held over your chest, you fish through the water in search of your waterlogged clothes.

Jade takes hold of your empty hand, marveling at how small yours is compared to his. So precious. I could hold this hand forever…

“There’s no need to be shy. Nudity is commonplace where I’m from.”

“Well, it���s not like that up here. Not always, at least.” You swallow thickly. “Please don’t look…”

“That’s tantamount to asking someone not to admire artwork in a museum.” Gently, he coaxes you away from the wall and into his chest. “You deserve to be cherished in full. Is that not why land-dwellers sculpt the human body?”

“That’s different!”

“How so?”

Please, (Name), you’re driving me wild. Please just let me love you. Please. It’s all I want.

“Most of them are representations of deities and other important symbols.”

“In that case, I am but your humble devotee.”

You roll your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“No? Then how about this instead?”

Jade turns over on his back in the pool. You’re tugged along for the ride, settled on his chest like a turtle resting on driftwood. His arms wrap around you. Stubborn—an adjective known to describe Jade on occasion.

“Now I won’t see a thing.”

His smile is too cheeky for your liking, but that’s the last thing you’re thinking of. His hands creep down the expanse of your back. You yelp when he squeezes your asscheek. 

“H-Hey! Watch where you’re touching!” Your expression is meant to be threatening, but all it does is earn you a gentle laugh.

“Forgive me. My hand slipped.”

“Yeah, right. You’re not slick.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a retort. Instead, he floats aimlessly on his back. You press yourself to his toned body and silently hope he can’t feel your hardened nipples.

“Can you bring me back to the edge?”

“I can.”

Just not the edge you’re thinking of.

“Will you?”

“Eventually.”

It’s spoken like a promise, a sweet sigh. You don’t believe him for a second.

Once more, his hand dips lower than it should to rub against your bare pussy. You flinch out of your skin, sucking in a deep breath. His whimsical laughter is more grating than nails on a blackboard.

“Oops.”

You want to throw yourself into the water, but that would risk giving him an unintentional show and that’s the last thing you want. So you squeeze your eyes shut and, body taut, lie still. 

“Can you—will you tell me what’s going on?”

“I will.”

You wait for him to continue, but he chooses to bask in the silence instead. If you weren’t trapped in his embrace, you’d throttle him. Or try to, at least. He’s all muscle in this form, and it would be so easy for him to subdue you if he felt so inclined. The result of a wrestling match with a moray isn’t exactly in your favor.

Groaning in defeat, you play right into his game: “Can you tell me?”

“Allow me to show you.”

He propels himself backwards, his tail fin cutting smoothly through the water. You’re taken from the shallows to the deepest end of the pool. His hands find your waist and, with startling ease, he helps you up so that you’re sat just above his slit. It brushes against your pussy every time you shift. Minding his claws, he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you still. You hurry to cover yourself with your arms, hoping to preserve what’s left of your decency.

“Many mers prefer spring and summer climates.”

“Because the water’s warmer?”

“That’s part of it.” His hands crawl up your waist to close around your arms. Gently, he pulls them away from your chest. His eyes stick to your breasts, but you can’t muster the courage to fight him. “The water is warm and food is plentiful. The perfect time to find a willing mate.”

“So this is—you’re in…heat, basically?”

“It’s rather unbearable if left untreated.”

“You say that like it’s an illness…” Shaking your head, you sigh and offer a sympathetic grimace. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can help. I don’t know the first thing about moray mating!”

“I wouldn’t say that. You possess all the proper equipment. It’s merely a matter of body language, really. Think of it like dancing,” he assures, petting your inner thigh. You watch his fingers inch closer and closer to your pussy, and with an embarrassed gasp you place your hand over it. “Won’t you be a dear friend and help a poor moray in need? I would be very grateful to have your assistance. In fact, I would be in your debt. Isn’t that most advantageous?”

“No way! Ask someone else.”

“I would if I could, but this isn’t the type of issue one can treat so carelessly. Selecting a mate is of great importance in the sea.”

“So go to the sea and do it.”

“We’re already there.” He chuckles at the dubious glower you give him. “As it happens, Octavinelle’s surrounding territory is entirely oceanic. How fortunate for us.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

My dear pearl, I treasure you something fierce, but you’re wearing my patience painfully thin.

“Why not?”

“Didn’t you just say picking a mate is super special?”

He hums, wondering if you’re feigning ignorance for the sake of the situation or if you’re genuinely this lost. It’s likely the latter. After all, you accepted his invitation to mate without even knowing it.

“It’s a special occasion, yes. Many mers have new partners every summer. Sometimes they remain and other times the tide carries them along, bringing in new opportunities with every changing season.”

“And finding the one who sticks is the goal?”

“For some of us.”

“So what about you?” You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “You’re speaking for everyone but yourself, Jade.”

Jade flushes. Your perceptive words are pointed, stabbing through thick skin to reach his heart. It isn’t often someone parts all of his curtains to peer at the truth.

“I would like that,” he admits, soft and sweet, almost demure. “Someone who sticks, as you’ve put it.”

You watch his face carefully, but there’s no lie to find. With his pinched brow and shimmering coloration, so much so it’s as if he’s been set aflame, you steel your nerves. He brightens the dark pool with his light, a beacon on still waters. Jade looks right back. The eye contact is heady—more hypnotic than a swaying pendulum. He waits for you to make the first move, as is customary in his courtship, but when you don’t react he begins to suspect it’s the opposite for yours.

But then you find your voice. So words are valued in human courtship. I see…

“If I help with this… W-What exactly happens? What does it mean?”

Jade knows his pearl isn’t stupid, but sometimes he really has to wonder.

“It means—” he takes the hand that had been previously protecting your nudity and pulls it away, fingers intertwining— “we would copulate like every animal does.”

“I… I’m not sure.”

“I’ll be very gentle.”

“Still…”

“You have my word.”

“I know. I understand. But—”

“It’s my first time as well.”

You stare at him, astounded by the revelation. “Really?”

“Indeed. So I ask that you forgive my boorish insistence. I’m usually very prepared for my season, so it’s a shock it’s come so early.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. I wonder if it’s because you’re a human. Maybe something with your transformation?” Your breath catches in your throat when he presses two slender fingers against your clit. “H-Hold on… If you touch there—”

Jade’s mismatched eyes sparkle when he looks at you, wet with tears. “Please,” he murmurs, resting his head back against the water. “Please, (Name)…”

You’ve never known Jade to cry or beg outright, let alone utter that single word in such a submissive tone. He’s so vulnerable, an image curated for this very occasion. Not that this is imperative information you absolutely must know.

With slumped shoulders, you glance elsewhere. “I’m not so sure…”

Jade considers himself fortunate to have his wits about him, otherwise he would have already had you plastered to the pool tiles, his cock thrust up in your tight pussy.

“I understand my size in this form may seem rather intimidating, but I’m still myself.”

“I know. But…”

“You can lead. I’ll follow. Almost like a dance.” Taking hold of your hips, he rocks you back and forth as if you’re a doll. Your cunt brushes against his slit and, though it isn’t nearly as euphoric as the actual ordeal, it still sends a wave of carnal relief washing over him. He hums pleasantly, gills fluttering. “Mhm… Like so. It’s simple, isn’t it? Nothing to fear.”

You place your palms against his chest to brace yourself. A reedy breath shakes through you. Jade can see the gears turning. And—oh—how he wishes to be able to poke around your head to understand what it is you’re working through. He’s certain he’d be walking on air if he could hear your innermost monologues: To love or not to love Jade Leech… Or, at present, this would be a better and very humorous phrasing of your secret dialogue: To fuck or not to fuck Jade Leech… 

Even if you don’t love him now, you will later. Just as all life in his terrariums inevitably blooms, so, too, will your affection for him. Patient and persistent care will get him far. He’s sure of that.

You shiver above him, face scrunched and bottom lip bitten to muffle your musical moans. He doesn’t bother hiding his very obvious enjoyment as he guides you along until, eventually, your hips move on their own accord. You grind down against his slit, panting wetly, and he watches your lashes flutter, beautiful like butterfly wings. He admires the divine softness of your nudity, picturesque like that of the Renaissance.

No matter how delicious you are on the eyes, how electrifying it is to have your body pressed to his, it’s still not enough. Jade has half a mind not to buck up to meet your dripping pussy halfway, even if his every sense is telling him he should. Too much force and he’d throw you off into the pool; there’s no telling what he’d do if you were in the water, fully at his mercy. So he allows you to have your fun, deems it polite that you find your end first before he follows. He has to remind himself that you’re not a mer and, thus, you won’t find it very appealing if he succumbs to animalistic urges.

Humans like gentle creatures. Jade is not a gentle creature by nature, but he enjoys masquerading as one.

If it were up to Jade, he would have just taken you for himself ages ago. The minute you looked him in the eyes, he would have grabbed your face in both hands and yanked you up to smash his mouth to yours. And then you’d know there’s more beyond that curtain of placidity.

But that’s not the approach he wants to take.

What he really wants, right now and in this moment, more than anything, is to be inside you, pump you so full of himself that you’ll feel bloated like a whale carcass. Sink his teeth in your throat and taste the blood puddling beneath. Chew you out like you’re nothing more than a squeak toy and he’s your wildly disobedient dog. Dig his claws into your thighs until red ribbons slide down broken skin and cloud the water.

Your yelp brings him back to the present. For a strained second, he thinks he’s hurt you—gone too far and chased you away before the game could even begin. But the source of your startled reaction is easy to pinpoint, for it’s currently prodding at your folds.

“W-What’s that?” you ask around another gasp.

More of Jade’s prehensile cock wriggles free from the safety of his slit. He squeezes his eyes shut to collect himself, hissing through his teeth.

“Most mers are equipped with—mmh—with both sets of…anatomy…” His mind is whirling. He can’t finish that thought. Does it even matter? You’ll understand without the explanation. “It won’t hurt… You can touch it.”

You shake your head and—sevens, you’re lucky he loves you so much or else he wouldn’t have the foresight to be mindful of your inability to breathe underwater. What he’d give to take you below the surface and ignore the world passing above—to spend what little eternity he has rutting into you, tails twining, mouths meeting…

“I shouldn’t… T-That’s your…thing.”

He wasn’t sure you could get cuter, but you do. Surprises are endless with you. He could never tire of this.

“Of course it is. How else am I to copulate without it?” he replies smartly. “It’s called breeding season for a reason, my dear.”

You lift your hips slightly to avoid the tip searching for a home within your gummy depths. Panic paints itself on your face. “W-Wait! You can’t—”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself moments ago. I promise you this will feel even better once it’s inside.”

“That was before I—b-before you…” You swallow thickly, stumbling over your tongue. “There’s no way I can—it looks…too big.”

“Any size is going to seem so if you’ve never taken it before.”

Jade presses two fingers inside your pussy and spreads it. Slick strings from the opening, coating his digits in your arousal. You stiffen and hide behind your hands.

Aah, if only I could devour you right here and now… You’re just too adorable. Are you doing this on purpose?

“You needn’t fret. If my fingers slide in like so, then I’m certain it will be the same for my—”

“I don’t know how mers do it, but if it’s anything like humans…” You shake your head again, adamant. “I don’t wanna get pregnant.”

That’s unavoidable, he wants to say, but that would serve to scare you away.

“We’re incompatible.” Even I’m not certain of that, but it must be false if the mermaid princess could start a family with her human. “Therefore, the risk is nonexistent.”

“Are you sure?”

Not in the slightest.

“Quite.”

Apprehensive, you still refuse to lower yourself onto him. He’s aching, desperate and near-deranged from waiting, and if he were still in his human form he’d be sweating out of his skin. Jade grabs your hips again and, somewhat forcefully, brings you down to meet his tip.

“Please,” he stresses, putting on his best, most convincing pout. “Please, (Name), won’t you help me? I fear I can’t endure any more of this torture.”

You open your mouth, but a trembling breath slips out in place of a protest. Jade’s cock presses against your pussy, gradually delving inside. You almost flop on top of him, the air knocked out of your lungs as he spears you open. Jade grits his teeth. His claws rake across your sides. He has to remain calm, but how can he do that when he’s finally inside you after months of fantasizing? He knows now that his hand could never act as a substitute for the real thing.

To think he was missing something as grand as this all along! No amount of warmth could ever compare to you. You’re an angel who’s just taken him to Heaven.

You gasp again when he slams you down without warning. “Ooh…”

He heaves a shaky, satisfied sigh. Tears dot his lash line. He’s never known relief so strong. It wraps tightly around his cock, squeezing like a vise. If not your mind, your body definitely agrees to this connection. You’ve taken him so well. Surely you wanted this all along. It was just convoluted courtship, a messy tangle of misunderstanding. You want him to knock you up—to stuff you over and over until you can’t fit anything else.

Oh, if only he had eggs. If only he could give you a clutch.

Next time, he thinks, and he means it.

“See?” he says, finding his voice. It comes out breathless, like he’s just been squeezed dry. Not yet. Soon, though. He’s sensitive, and it betrays whatever image he hoped to curate by seeming unbothered. You’re supposed to fall apart first, yet here he is on the verge of coming undone. “You’ve fit every inch. I surmise you could fit even more.”

“I don’t want to!” You lift your body, but it’s a silly endeavor. His cock twitches and curves up against your walls. You and Jade groan in unison, your eyes squeezed shut. “We should’ve just gone to—haa—Professor Crewel and let him handle this…”

“Magical intervention would only pause the inevitable. These cycles are easier to manage as they happen. And this—” he helps you grind down against him, to which you do with startling obedience (but then perhaps he’s just strong enough to manhandle and pretend it’s compliance)— “is the best medicine.”

His webbed hand closes around one of your breasts. It’s soft and springy in his grasp. He pinches your nipple experimentally, and you clench around him.

“Ah, do you like being touched here?”

“Mmh—no… Not there. Don’t—ooh!”

“Or perhaps here?” he asks, circling your clit.

“Stop—you can’t…”

“But I already am.”

You muster the energy to glare halfheartedly, but it soon unravels when he drags you up and down once more. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, every lewd, wet slap an addition to your cries. Jade wonders if this is what true inner peace is, for he’s never been more elated. So utterly, indescribably relieved.

You’re just what he needs to weather this cruel winter.

Jade’s mind, once so organized, is a chaotic scramble. You’ve always occupied a majority of his thoughts, but now you’re made front and center. Everything revolves around you at this moment. He even tries to sync his breathing with yours, if only to feel closer to you. As if this bodily connection isn’t already close enough.

You happen to glance at him then. There’s a glaze to your gaze that wasn’t there before. He admires the way it makes you look—the softness in your eyes and the subtle part of your lips. You appear so blissful while you rock yourself on his cock, dragging your hips in jerky motions. He doesn’t think twice about the sloppy nature of your union, for he moves with a singular goal in mind.

He reaches without meaning to, searching for your heartbeat so that it can align with his, and you squeak in surprise when you’re pulled against his chest. Jade’s reminded you’re not a mer when he tries to wrap his tail around your nonexistent one, feeling legs kick out instead. Just like that, ripples run across tranquil waters as you’re flipped over.

Ah. I was too hasty.

You break the surface, coughing and spluttering. He mourns the disconnect immediately, yearning for your warmth again. When he comes up to join you, he’s met with a splash.

“A-At least warn me before you do that!” You mumble the rest of your disappointment, but Jade’s keen ears pick it up anyway. “I didn’t even get to finish…”

Jade chuckles and wipes water from his eyes. His face is bright, burning with joy. “My apologies. I may have gotten carried away.”

“Obviously.” You huff. “Now can you bring me to the edge?”

He winds around you. “It would be my pleasure.”

You’re pressed against the pool wall, legs spread and wrapped around his waist. He braces himself on either side of you, his fingers curling around the ledge. With how strong his grip is, it’s a shock the tiles haven’t cracked under the pressure. You avoid his stare while he pushes in. He listens to your breath stutter, and that’s all it takes to shatter his self-control. He draws away, savors the confusion polluting the air, and then snaps his hips forward to fill you with every inch of his strange, inhuman cock. A strangled moan rips from your throat and you throw your head back, deflating flatly against the floor.

Jade’s brows knit together. He bows his head, gasping into your neck. His teeth are centimeters from unmarked flesh. He wants to bite you, but the sensation of your velvety walls wrapped around his cock is so distracting. He thinks he might faint. It feels too good. So warm. So wet. So tight. Is this really what humans feel like on the inside? Are they always so soft? He feels boneless as he rolls his hips, numb and dumb, mindless like an animal.

That’s really all he’s ever been: an animal enthralled, his sights forever locked on you. He’d do anything to get you to look at him.

Your arms snake around him, and you cling so sweetly, your nails scraping at his back, that he almost cums right then. Your voice is in his ears, wanton and whispery.

“J-Jade… Aah, Jade…” You hold firmly, unyielding, and chant his name like it’s something holy. “Oh, please, Jade!”

You were so averse before. Now look at you. You’re so cute. The cutest, in fact. I want to make you mine and lock you away forever. Your voice, your body, your smile, your everything… It would be mine to admire. A fascination reserved specially for me.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asks, tracing your cheek with a claw.

A fond smile graces his face. You blink up at him. Tears track down your cheeks, but he knows they aren’t woeful. You’re enjoying this just as much as he is. You want him. You like him. You have no choice.

“Feels full…”

“Does it?”

“Mhm.”

That angelic smile fades into something wicked and proud. Full. You’re full. Full of him and, very soon, full of as many loads as he cares to give.

His hand dips between your bodies to nudge at your clit. You choke around a bawdy moan. If he fools himself, he imagines your parted lips are mirroring the same invitation he voiced to you earlier. Maybe it really is. Maybe you’ve finally understood this facet of his language. 

Hypnotized, Jade watches your lips. He doesn’t even register he’s leaning in. You struggle somewhat, but he just kisses you harshly. His tongue slithers past your lips to explore the insides of your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders.

I love you. I love you. I love you and need you and want you. You’re all mine. Finally mine.

Saliva dribbles from your lips when he pulls back. His eyes are blown wide.

All mine.

When he leans in for another kiss, this one more dizzying than the last, he presses his hips to yours, aiming to get as close to your womb as possible. He needs to. Needs to be deeply acquainted with your insides. Needs to flood your empty womb with enough cum to guarantee pregnancy. Needs to knock you up and watch you swell with his child so that you’ll be even softer than you are now. Oh, the beauty of it all is too tantalizing! You’d look so cute, maternity wear stretched taut around your gravid belly. And your tits would grow fat and heavy with milk. He can already picture it: You’d fluster when you leak through your shirt, even more so when he takes your teat in his mouth and drinks his fill. He wonders if you’d call him gross, a pervert, a freak… Would you do so if he asked?

Would you hate him if you knew all of the depraved fantasies that flit around in his head?

Maybe. The lack of linear clarity excites him. Endless possibilities. He wants to know all of them.

He wants to—

With a wheeze, he cums quick and hard, lashes fluttering and vision whiting out. Your body flinches beneath him, caught in the throes of pleasure as you, too, ride out an orgasmic wave.

He comes to moments later, his heart racing, and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s…it, right?” you mumble, running your fingers through matted hair. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

Jade tries a shy smile. “On the contrary, we’re only just beginning. A mer’s season isn’t over until they’ve emptied everything, heart and soul, into their mate.”

Can he really call his dick his heart and soul? Maybe. It sickens him with a wild delight.

No matter how many rounds, he’s going to love you until you’re thoroughly worn out.

You don’t have a choice.

But then you already love him, don’t you?

You will by the end of this.

And suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Suddenly, he’s no longer embroiled in the sticky shackles of winter woes.

[trek-tracks]

Okay, hear me out. TOS 4 is the time travel movie. So AOS 4 is the time travel movie, but it's not about whales.

It's about a conversation AOS Spock had with TOS Spock before the latter died, when TOS Spock mentioned that things didn't really go irrevocably wrong in his universe until Admiral Kirk disappeared with the Enterprise-B. AOS Spock wonders what repercussions this has had on his own, somewhat more distressing universe, and when the AOS Enterprise bridge crew finds itself assigned to protect Earth by examining an unstable temporal ribbon that seems to be crossing through the galaxy--well. Spock wonders. Is this the Nexus? They find out soon enough that it is. And since Spock's the first one in, technically, the Nexus gives him what he wants, which is what the Nexus has--the ability to cross universes as well.

Now everyone, out in two groups on separate missions has to resist succumbing to the temptations of the world of the Nexus while they try to rescue Admiral Kirk, making sure his mission is still completed (so as not to destroy anything for the TNG folks' reality) but that he survives, so that they can figure out how to get through the Nexus and pop him back in his universe right as he's supposed to leave on the Enterprise-B. AOS Spock is sure he can figure out those calculations somehow. Some of the temptations are funny, some are sad, but we find out where Uhura and Sulu and Scotty are in their lives, and where they want to be.

Like Spock got to meet TOS Spock, TOS Kirk gets to meet Kirk (and Spock, and McCoy, and eventually the rest of the bridge crew). AOS Kirk learns that the life he's been envious of all this time didn't turn out well in the end because TOS Kirk ran toward duty alone despite what he had, and TOS Kirk learns that a) he could have suffered so much more loss, b) he's just one of a set of infinite possibilities, just like AOS Kirk is, and c) he's been wasting eternity exploring those other possibilities of happiness in the Nexus when he could have been content with what he already had.

He finds out what happened to TOS Spock, and it's agonizing. He sees this weird young Spock and Bones, both of whom could bench-press him, and he misses his Spock and Bones so much that the Nexus starts trying to change the fantasy world, to their detriment. It's only when the crew sticks as close as possible together and all concentrates on wanting the same thing that they're all able to shift the Nexus to their goal. Then Picard shows up. Things get complicated.

We hear, from Generations: And in the end, what did it get me? An empty house...Not this time.

and from Star Trek V: I knew I wouldn't die because the two of you were with me.

I thought you said men like us don't have families.

I was wrong.

TOS Kirk decides that, yes, he wants to leave, and he wants to go back. But they're not entirely sure how to line up Picard's plan and TOS Kirk's plan and the AOS plan and have it all work. It's a lot to figure out.

To simplify things, AOS Kirk decides he's going to volunteer to go die in TOS Kirk's place so that they can return TOS Kirk and at least one of them will have a decent ending, because his own life still feels so uncertain. This seems like it's going to work until his Spock and Bones both read him the riot act. But it's Bones who really goes off.

Karl Urban gets a great speech as Bones about how both Spock and Kirk met their counterparts, a chance which he will likely never be afforded and neither of them learned anything from it. Spock went off and punctured the walls of a universe even though TOS Spock indirectly destroyed AOS Vulcan through it. Kirk is trying to run away and die again because he doesn't know what to do with himself, even though TOS Kirk had an unhappy ending to a good life because at the end he ran away and tried to die again. Bones just tries to pick up the pieces. You don't fix things by tearing them apart, and you don't fix them by tearing yourself apart. You fix them by healing the rift. AOS Kirk's eyes light up. They're going to fix the rift.

They're going to give this random meaningless villain what he wants, throw him into the Nexus, he can have infinite joy, then they're going to seal it and heal it.

After all, AOS Bones says. He had a drink with TOS Kirk at the man's insistence, even though the Saurian Brandy didn't taste like anything, and Kirk told him he could cure anything from a rock to a rainy day. The tasteless brandy? Apparently Bones is the person who can actually perceive that nothing here is real, so he doesn't want anything except for everyone to remain safe.

From Beyond: Better to die saving lives than to live with taking them. 

Bones says: Better that no one dies at all. This time, no one dies.

So TOS Kirk and the Bridge crew go with Picard to subdue Soran and honestly, it's not that tough with all of them. Nobody had to die. And as they fix the rift, with TOS Kirk and Picard's Enterprise about to be thrown back into their universe on one side and the AOS Enterprise into theirs on the other, Picard suddenly realizes that he never clarified how they were getting Kirk back to his own time. And how will they explain his status?

TOS Kirk grins. Good thing I know how to slingshot around the sun, he says. And when they report me missing, I'll just say I didn't go in the first place. Clerical error. Who are they to argue with an alive man?

AOS Kirk has so many questions, but the two of them merely salute each other, and then they're thrown back.

Back in his own time, TOS Kirk walks into a Starfleet Academy apartment, and hear him say:

Bones, I heard you got laid up with Andorian flu and Spock was taking care of you, and this I just had to see! How many hypos? Don't let him talk you out of any, Spock. They're all important, every single one, even ones he hasn't heard of.

A pause.

Yes, I know I said Starfleet needed me. I just thought maybe you two needed me more this time.

Back in the AOS universe and Spock's calculations are totally off in getting home, because he didn't account for the gravitational pull of--

Vulcan. The planet that apparently still exists.

TOS Spock still came into their universe--he was always going to live longer than his ties to his Enterprise family. But his actions had been tempered, less destructive, which had clearly resulted in the Enterprise being able to save the planet. They were going to have to find out how.

Not everything had changed, of course. Nero had still been Nero, they had still come together. But Jim only vaguely remembers dying, now, as though it had happened to somebody else. He feels more settled than he ever has before. Some of that's the time travel revision, and some of that's the meeting with his alternate self, and some of that's Bones' yelling. Spock feels a sense of closure. Bones is just relieved that nobody died this time.

Uhura suddenly and quietly alerts them to the chronometer. It's a week before they left, which means there are now two Enterprise bridge crews on Earth, and that they need to lie low for a week to avoid running into themselves.

What should we do, Captain? she asks.

Jim smiles.

Let's go to Yosemite.

[altarfates]

@yingren x.

This nondescript room with its creaky bed and its diaphanous, off-white sheets contains these moments like a furtively kept secret. Because it was a terrible decision, perhaps the worst decision either could have agreed to. It’s because they both know it but refuse to speak it aloud that it’s grown wild and unchecked. There was something inexplicably right about the way ren’s slender hands sink into his hair, pressing half of his face ruthlessly into the bed and whispering salacious depravity into the shell of his pointed ear. addictive was perhaps a more apt representation of it because like someone deprived of their substance of choice he returns desperate, hungrier, with each opportunity presented to him. It was disturbing, to feel the magnetic pull of ren and lean into it, encourage it, rather than desperately jerk away. It cannot cause him much distress because tangled in the rumpled sheets dan heng is delineated as something ethereal. He has yet to trouble himself with the onerous task of thinking about retrieving his urgently discarded clothes and appears utterly serene despite the lurid marks in the shapes of ren’s hands and mouth that deface his otherwise pale skin.  As pleasure recedes into a dull, intermittent ache, dan heng is able to gather his frayed thoughts. any semblance of regret is absent which he has already committed too much time dwelling on before to agonize over now. through lowered lashes he has enthralled himself with the strange, sinuous creatures the smoke seeping out of ren’s cigarette become, wreathing over one another again and again in a ravenous, dissipating, frenzy. It’s hot, that was the response he had chosen ? the pellucid water of dan heng’s gaze immured ren beneath their surface, retaining the way his lean frame harbours all of the tension the room could hold within his taut sinew and hollow bones. he was charged with it, as if it might disgorge violently from him in an instance. encircled by it, tangible waves undulating off of ren’s broad shoulders, he felt exposed, vulnerable, which seemed absurd considering the fervent way he had compelled ren to sink his teeth into the soft, pliant juncture between his throat and shoulder. a shudder curled up his spine, his fingers flexing absentmindedly to stave it off. Dan heng had never thought about smoking before, lining one’s lungs with a slick of virulent toxin seemed detrimental to his attempt at wanting to survive. When ren’s teeth sink into the crooked end of that cigarette though he is mesmerised, his pupils slithers of darkness amongst ravenous rapids. then, as if affronted by a lack of something he nonchalantly dips the cigarette into an abandoned cup long since tepid, leisurely stirring it as if to mix the dregs of caffeine and the abhorrent black ash into a bilious concoction. He merely stared at it for a long moment, drinking in the ripples as they slowly stretched to the outer perimeter of the cup and then dissolved into nothingness. There was something alleviating about it, he could correlate the dull cadence of pain echoing through him to their unfurling and when he dared repossess his focus he found ren moving again. He seemed incapable of remaining still, like it might drive him mad to be stagnant, it was a sentiment dan heng knew intimately. Still, the languid way he stretched commanded dan heng’s eyes to brazenly traverse his skin, devouring each inch of him he offered up with the avarice only a dragon could possess. It’s a terrible thing when their eyes meet again, being caught staring causes a heat to rise from his cheeks to the tips of his pointed ears, he averts his gaze intentionally, hastily. ren has seen, touched, tasted, all of him, it seems like such a futile thing to be flustered and adhering his gaze to the low, decrepit table below but he needs to anchor himself somewhere else, anywhere else. 

It isn’t until ren approaches him, crossing the distance that feels insurmountable as soon as they’re not pressed together in a slick of sweat and desire, that he commands dan heng’s attention once more ━ as if he could fully commit it anywhere else. coming this close he tucks a wayward strand of dark hair behind dan heng’s ear and the gesture, so miniscule, so insignificant to most, has his breath held captive behind his teeth, appraising him with an expression that was not quite prepared to be guarded ━ but felt, when touched so gently, so transiently, that it needed to be. With his knuckles bereft of their usual bandages, ren's skin grazes the warmth of his cheeks and he finds himself inadvertently leaning into it again rather than away. “ a week, that’s how long you think i’ll last.” he says, it sounds like a challenge but not unlike his expression his voice is still soft, breathy, the impression of him obscenely moaning for ren haunts this constricting space. He shakes his head but still leans over, the sheet falls away from his stomach as he stretches, revealing long plains of skin, pooling around his waist like an invitation. Holding the lighter feels excruciatingly intimate, considering it with a wary gaze he instead does something reckless, something bolder, something to negate the peculiar servility of doing something like this for ren. With it still in hands he rises from the sheets revealing more tantalizing inches of skin before impudently sinking into ren’s laps, thighs spread, focusing on the click, click, click the lighter makes as he coaxes a spark from it rather than the molten heat from the contact of ren’s skin against his skin. “ perhaps you are right after all.” he says lowly, obediently lighting the end of his cigarette. “ I am the insatiable one.” 

[cryoniic]

starter for

↳ @archoniic

𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒔𝒍𝒚, overconfident to a fault and almost sadistic? Those were traits Kaeya was most proficient in. With the task -- or rather, the imperative -- of saving Mondstadt and those he cared for deeply, gaining the trust of an Archon, preventing detrimental events, and rewriting history?

The least he could have done was make it a challenge

Does he have a chance of success? There is a possibility that Khaen'riah would never have been destroyed. The relationships he had with those he cared about deeply would cease to exist upon his return if this were the case. The years they had spent together, the laughter they shared, and the tears they shed, would only end up being memories and burdens for Kaeya and Kaeya alone. In the end, it was a small price to pay to ensure their survival.

His decision weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he knew there was only one option -- to put his life on the line selflessly. If they had never seen him again, no one would have known. Each of those he cared for was visited before he left. The least he could do was ensure that their last thought of him was not entirely awful if they never crossed paths again.

He underestimated the challenge of dealing with Jean and the Knights. He certainly hadn't anticipated emotions to play a role, not when the stakes were higher. Jean's familiar twinkle of happiness would be a memory he would cherish through the inevitable loneliness of the years to come. Diluc ... There was nothing he could do to bid Diluc farewell. The red headed noble wasn't likely to respond well to gifts in a public setting, or comments that weren't needed, and any niceties might make him push for answers, jeopardizing the plan. He settles for buying one last glass of red before he departs - making sure it was the very same man who poured it.

"Thanks." A warm smile appeared, though Diluc may have passed too quick to notice. Those years would be remembered by a single word spoken by the man. Although he had differing views, he hadn't abandoned him like others may have. At such a young age, he accepted him and gave him an entirely different perspective than what his father expected of him. Although he wasn't born here, he considered it his home by nature. If only you knew.. One final glance over his shoulder was taken as he reached the door. It took him only a moment to curl his lips, make a noise in his throat, and then he was gone.

In the time between that point and his transportation to his destination, the Calvary Captain arrived on the outskirts of what he hoped were the Guili plains with uncertainty about his safety. Some women are watering crops among stone structures. It was almost too peaceful. Apprehensively, he steps forward, pondering how best to approach. whomever he spoke to would be ingrained in their memories beyond what they already know. Even the slightest slip could affect the future. No doubt Kaeya was quick with his tongue, however he was not immune to mistakes. The fresh smell of the morning harvest greeted him as he approached. This was an entirely different scent from Mondstadt -- yet not unwelcome.

Knowing now that his attire was unique and prone to drawing attention, hindsight would have greatly assisted him in approaching people who had been around years before he was a twinkle in his parents' eyes.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

108. Different Seasons by Stephen King--No Rating

DIFFERENT SEASONS is the first short story/novella collection by Stephen King that I've ever finished reading. I'll admit, this was a bit of a ride and had a lot of highs and lows. I'm so torn on what to rate this, so I'll not rate the overall collection, but each individual novella.

My library doesn't have DIFFERENT SEASONS in its entirety as an audiobook, but it had three of the four novellas in individual audiobooks, so that was fun and kind of weird--especially since that meant that the last story was a physical read for me (it was a really interesting contrast to doing audiobooks for the other three.

Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption: 5 Stars

To be fair, I absolutely adore the film adaptation. I loved seeing the little details left out of the film and the despair that can only come fr0m reading about an experience, rather than watching actors acting it out. One of my favourite things about this novella is how I was hooked from the beginning. Definitely a favourite from this collection! If you loved the film, I highly recommend this novella because it gives you a different experience that you might end up loving.

Apt Pupil: 2.5 Stars

One of the things I've always loved about King is how he has this power to make you incredibly uncomfortable through his provocative and dangerously line-crossing writing. But I'll be honest that this novella made me squirm in my seat. Maybe that alone should raise the rating, but what's also stopping me from raising the rating is the fact that I was eventually starting to zone out. I was NOT feeling this story and I think it's definitely my least favourite from the collection.

The Body: 3.5 Stars

I'll admit that this took a while to grip me. I don't know if having had watched the movie first so many years back was a detriment to reading this novella because I wasn't expecting this book to be so heavy with stories and reminiscing. I know this is the point of this book, since it's a journey (both literal and metaphorical) for four best friends who are about to have their lives changed. I will say that once I was finally into the story, there was no going back. The characters were vivid, the friendship a reminder of childhood adventuring and endless hope for what might come the next day. I ended up really enjoying this one in the end, but it took a while to get there!

The Breathing Method: 5 Stars

Hot take but, this is my favourite of the four novellas. I enjoyed the main character and his naive way of navigating this new world that has just opened up to him. I loved the concept of a men's club sharing stories of all kinds during Thursday nights. And that ending, as my friend said, is very much a Stephen King thing to do. I think this carried some really good scares (traditionally speaking) and an ending only King could write. I felt that the story flowed a lot better than two of the other novellas, and that in itself makes it a winner. I also enjoyed the story so much because it felt so unique, even thought there are a lot of people who get together on occasion to share stories, this grabbed my attention immediately since it was written in such a compulsive way. I love thinking that somewhere in the bowels of New York City there is a group of older white men telling each other horror stories.

___

109. Alive by Piers Paul Read--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I've read horror books that have tackled some of the topics explored in this nonfiction recounting of the survivors of the Andes plane crash. I thought I would be super ready because truly, what story with cannibalism could be as jarring as TENDER IS THE FLESH? But I was so wrong, especially because this one was a true story.

Before I get to the meat of this nonfiction survival book, I want to mention how amazingly it is written. The pacing is great, the chapters being split on occasion between the survivors and their forever hunting and searching parents was amazing. While it was definitely important to see the perspectives of the parents, I loved that the main focus was on the survivors and their tale. I think a lot of books mess this up, so props to the author for getting this balance between the two just right.

Also, the events were told in such a way that it literally felt like a fictional story. It's hard to believe that these young men went through such horrors and somehow survived by the end of it all.

Now, for the raw aspects of the story: I think most people, when they talk of this plain crash, they speak of the cannibalism that occurred. The way it was explained by the survivors was both genius and terrifying. By the point where eating the bodies of the deceased became the norm, the dehumanization that occurred was what grossed me out the most. Referring to it as "meat" and just casually mentioning the body parts and spoiled "meat" tasting like cheese made me want to pause the audiobook and take a deep breath. One truly doesn't know what their brain is capable of until they are in that situation.

The survival aspect of this book is absolutely incredible. I highly recommend it--but please, for the love of all that is meaty, strengthen your stomach before you take a bite out of this one.

___

110. Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Pretty much everyone knows about this book by now. The hype has risen this book to bookish stardom and it's gotten to the point where we get at least one phone call per day (at the bookstore I work at) asking if we have it in stock.

Before I went into this, I was preparing myself. I was worried that the hype would set my expectations for this book at ridiculous levels. I avoided reviews and tried my best to avoid spoilers. When I finally picked this up, I tried my very best to have low expectations. If it sucked, it sucked. If the characters were meh, they were meh. If I was bored, it was fine. I could DNF it.

Ha.

FOURTH WING was incredible. It was the wildest ride I've had with fantasy in a long time and I enjoyed every single minute of it. I devoured the 20 hour audiobook in a day and a bit and my only regret is that it is done. With the sequel safely pre-ordered, I can say that I absolutely need it. Like, tomorrow.

The characters were amazing (even if a few of them should dive into a tub of acid--screw you and your creepiness dude I won't name, but if you've read this book you know who it is--he's a freaking PREDATOR.) and the MC's internal dialogue was *chef's kiss*. I loved the relationships and how they formed and how you couldn't get too attached to them because the Yarros is ruthless. You think you can bond with some characters? Nah, you can't because they'll be dead in the next chapter. It's wild, but I honestly loved it. Especially with how some of the deaths were dealt because dang, some were too funny and I'm probably going to hell.

The plot was addicting and so quickly paced. There was always something going on and I couldn't wait to see what came next. I'm also a massive sucker for the "prove everyone wrong" trope, which Yarros maneuvered masterfully with her novel. Plus, seeing as the MC has chronic pain, or her body is a lot more fragile than the other riders, made this book so much better. I loved that aspect, especially when others acknowledged how hard she worked.

The romance was GREAT. It was predictable, but so delicious. And I don't feel weird saying that because they were in their 20s. I loved how open the MC was about her sexuality and horniness, and how the love interest absolutely devoured her when given the chance. Those spicy scenes be spicy, especially the one near the end....I also loved the fluidity of sexuality in the academy because it's realistic af.

I loved the dragons and their sass (and the occasional adorableness of one of them). It makes me want to read more dragon stories!

One of my favourite things, however, was how I could see the MC growing through the writing style. When the book first started, it felt very YA. The MC was naive and she definitely needed to learn the keys to surviving her new and dangerous world. But as she grew into her experiences and as a character, the writing grew with her. Of course, more people died and that also helped mature the writing. But by the end of the book, the YA writing style felt like a thing in the distant past.

I loved this book and I know that it might not be for everyone and that some people may think it's over hyped, but it's just...pure fun? The tension, the adventure, the constant threat of death, the cunning, and the characters who never stopped striving to succeed made Fourth Wing a force to be reckoned with and I'm so glad I finally read it!

___

111. Pet by Akwaeke Emezi--⭐️⭐️⭐️

Super unpopular opinion here: While the message of the book and topic are extremely important, the storytelling was...okay? I don't know. I think it started of beautifully, especially the descriptions of how the world was and who the monsters were, but somewhere along the way, the writing lost its hold on me.

I almost DNFed this because I wasn't into it. I kept going because there's so much love for this book and given the topics it explores and the themes it shines a light on, I can totally understand why. I think it just felt like this weird in between of middle grade and young adult, but with swearing thrown in. And I don't mind either of those things because I love MGLit books and I will swear until I'm blue, but the the combination was just odd and off-putting.

Also, the MC was kind of....annoying near the end. I understood what she was doing, but maybe it's the Taurus in me that was so annoyed by her actions. It read, to me, as an adult putting their morals onto a teenager who might not act in the same way if they were real. It's always been a thing that irks me with certain YA books, because it doesn't feel like a thing teenagers would do.

I don't know. Like I said, the messages were super, SUPER important. I loved the idea of calling these awful human beings monsters (because they are) and how by thinking that they've all been eradicated and/or rehabilitated, a town could live in peace even though some monsters hide in plain sight. I enjoyed the heart of the story because truly, if you ever watch true crime, it'll usually feature a town that thought it was safe from such evil. I really liked the concepts and the main idea, but the writing felt lacking for me. And that MC just felt too unrealistic.

If you DO decide to pick this up, though, trigger warning for CA and CSA.

___

112. Lost in the Moment & Found by Seanan McGuire--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

My new favourite in this series!

LOST IN THE MOMENT & FOUND is heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time (especially when the MC sees both a new future and the potential for a second chance at a future. Heartbreaking because, TW, of the horrors living in her home and the threat of CSA (but like the author says in the preface, she runs away).

From the author's heartfelt TW page, to the reveal of what was really happening in the MC's new life, this book was magic. McGuire's ability to take words and create a narrative both so naive and oddly mature at the same time is masterful and while the other books dealt with the whimsical, bullying, lost dreams, and other forms of childhood formative experiences, this one hit different. I felt so ill reading the first half of the book, but I knew the MC, even at such a young age, was someone incredibly powerful in her own right--even as this monster was attempting to steal her strength.

Highly recommend this series--each book offers so much magic.

___

113. Clown in A Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives by Adam Cesare--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

While this one, in my opinion, wasn't as good as the first book, I still found it to be entertaining and full of stomach-churning moments. This was like...reading the sequel to SCREAM and knowing that it will probably not live up to the first movie.

The story for this started just as slowly as the first book did, but it definitely played with the idea and concept of the victim being blamed to the point where they look like the villain. I think that was pretty well done, especially because there were instances where I got pretty pissed off with the people victim blaming.

I loved seeing the continuation of a couple that was revealed in the first book, but it hurt to see the issues between them--especially when I just want to see them succeed together. I found that their issues weren't really resolved and just kind of...swept to the side? But I think this is also par for the course, especially since these books are written in a way you'd expect to see for a potential film adaptation.

The horror was gruesome, the deaths were just as gory as the first book, and the ridiculousness of the whole thing was so much fun. I highly recommend these books, especially for October!

Don't go in expecting a masterpiece, but just go in to have a bloody good time.

___

114. Horror Hotel by Victoria Fulton & Faith McClaren--⭐️⭐️⭐️

While HORROR HOTEL isn't perfect, it's such a fun read--especially if you're a fan of the Cecil Hotel.

When I first heard about this book, I was instantly hooked on the idea of it. A group of teenagers who are paranormal investigators going into a hotel that is hella haunted and has a dark af history? Sign me up. The central case and character that is often referenced at the beginning of the book is a mirror of a famous death that happened there a few years ago and while some might find it questionable, I think it was an interesting.

When the Elisa Lam case first appeared on the internet, I was so curious and terrified by the footage. The idea that this poor woman could have experienced who knew what and ended up where she did was such a heartbreaking mystery. Obviously, there are only a couple of similarities in this book to the real-life case, nothing too macabre, but it was enough to pull me in.

The character relationships were interesting and had some layers that could have benefitted from a bit more exploration. This story really felt like we jumped into it in the middle of these friendships, kind of like an episode of their show where we only know what they show us and nothing more. In a way, this really did feel like I was watching an edgy episode of a ghost hunting show--this one just included a serial killer and a lovestruck teen boy.

Like a lot of young adult horror, don't go in expecting perfection. If you want a pretty straightforward ghost story with a real killer, some questionable side characters, and a group of teens making less than great life choices, then this is a book to add to your TBR. I'm always wary of the star rating on Goodreads for horror novels because honestly, the genre can be incredibly divisive.

___

115. What Happened to Rachel Riley? by Claire Swinarski--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I remember seeing this book at work and being so curious about it. One of the things I love doing is browsing the middle grade shelves because sometimes I find gems like this one. WHAT HAPPENED TO RACHEL RILEY? is such an important read. And listen, I know I say this a lot about middle grade novels, but oftentimes, books like this one have such important messages and undertones.

Swinarski tackles bullying in this one and I really appreciated it. Yes, there's a mystery and a teenager who is an aspiring journalist/podcaster, but the heart of this book is about a girl who fell from the pedestal she was put on and was taken down quickly and harshly. Rachel, the bullied subject of the MC's "project" handles the bullying so well and so maturely. What's messed up, though, is that she has to do this at such a young age.

As a person who suffered HEAVY bullying in middle grade, I can say that middle school is hell. Kids are cruel and will do anything to avoid being the next target. One of the topics explored in this book was also that of sexual assault and the many forms it may take. It's also important to note that these kids show how society has essentially groomed girls to laugh SA off if it doesn't fit the "typical" SA behaviour. If a young reader reads this and sees a situation they might have witnessed while in school, they may now have a tool to speak up against the behaviour. This is why literature like this matters. This book attempts to break that cycle and although it shows how difficult that can be, it also shows that there is hope that one day the cycle will be easier to break.

I highly recommend this, not just for middle grade kids, but also for adults who might have been kids like the ones in this book who thought laughing discomfort off was the only way to survive the jungles of middle grade.

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

Happy reading!

[buck-yyyy]

my complete, organized thoughts on volume two of stranger things.

spoiler alert: i'm really fuckin upset.

obvious spoiler warning for under the cut.

so. where to begin. lets start with... well, there's too much i'm disappointed in to pick a notable one to lead the pack, sooo a random one it is:

continuity between the seasons

there was none. there were so many plot holes and things left unmentioned from previous seasons that were important and completely left out. starting with will's birthday- what the hell? they made a specific point to mention it in season two. it was important enough to be one of the few confirmed birthdays in the cast of characters (actually, is it the only? a quick google search tells me that apparently, of the main kids, only mike and will have a confirmed birth date, and of the two, only will's was actually mentioned in the show). and yet, they somehow forgot it- with a team of hundreds of people, no one caught the fact that the date they used at rink-o-mania was one of the few dates ever mentioned in the show.

moving on from that fiasco, we have the fact that the upside down's air is harmful. they have to use hazmat suits in season one, in order to safely enter the upside down without getting sick. hopper gets sick in season two from the particles, when he's in the tunnels. yet, when steve/robin/nancy/eddie/dustin go into the upside down this season, they're perfectly fine with no masks or anything? that makes ZERO sense. there are a million other continuity errors, but i simply do not have time to name them all.

chekhov's gun

for those unaware, chekhov's gun is "a dramatic principle that suggests that details within a story or play will contribute to the overall narrative. This encourages writers to not make false promises in their narrative by including extemporaneous details that will not ultimately pay off by the last act, chapter, or conclusion" (courtesy of masterclass.com). in even simpler terms: a detail that was important enough to be brought up in the story isn't going to be shelved and ignored. it's a fairly important concept in writing; it confuses the audience when you bring something up then don't ever address it again. so why did that happen so much this season?

hopper's broken ankle wasn't ever addressed after he escaped from prison, even though an injury to that particular body part is detrimental to one's mobility (trust me- i ran cross country for years. when i fucked up my ankle, even a little bit, like simply twisting it the wrong way, i couldn't run. and while his situation was life or death, there was NO MENTION of it). max's letters were unopened and unread, except for billy's- so why did they chose to make such a big point of her writing them for everyone of her friends? mike's behaviour at the airport was COMPLETELY unexplained, and just made him more of a douchebag this season. and again, the upside down particles and the general atmosphere of the upside down being harmful was completely ignored.

all of these things add to the shoddy continuity, and lazy writing of this season- particularly volume two.

max's story line

what. the. fuck. i am so beyond angry at this. volume one featured max, a deeply traumatized girl struggling with PTSD, survivors guilt, and suicidal thoughts, choosing life and deciding to fight as hard as she could to survive. that story was and IS so deeply personal to me. however, they chose to resolve that plot by having her FUCKING DIE as a self-sacrifice. i should NOT need to explain to you why that's so shitty.

harmful tropes/stereotypes - part one

so, i'm dividing this one into two parts, one for what i'm about to bring up and another to put with all my byler/queer rep thoughts (i told you it'd be organized :0). this season (although this is NOT the first time), they employed SEVERAL overused stereotypes for POC as a main feature of various character's stories. i'm the first to admit that i am not the best person to talk about this, because i'm white, so i'm going to link a post by meembyers, who did a quick summary of the tropes.

mike and eleven's relationship

i'm going to be upfront about this, i'm particularly biased on this front because i'm a byler shipper, but hey- none of this is unbiased. you clicked to read this because of bias. plus, i don't think any milkvans follow me, so whatever.

their relationship has deteriorated to the point that it is genuinely laughable. i used to think that it was so that they could set up byler, but i now i don't fucking know whether that's actually what they're trying to do or if the duffer brothers just can't fucking write a good relationship between the two characters- we've seen them do well with lumax, so what the hell is the problem with el and mike?

if we're forgetting about byler for this analysis, their relationship is such. a mess. mike couldn't say 'i love you' for months, and in fact has never said it properly to her face in a way that she could respond to. he says it himself, that he practically worships her. there's a complete disconnect in his mind between jane, a very real girl who is in love with him and just wants a happy relationship with him, and eleven, the teenage superhero who can move things with her mind.

mike is the first person that she met outside of the lab. everything that she liked was just stuff that he liked. el latched on to him because she was a traumatized, abused child who had no one else in her life, nowhere safe to go. she didn't know what a boyfriend was, let alone the meaning behind a romantic relationship- and while we can see that this is what she wants now, that is not at all how it started.

mike has been reduced to nothing more than el's boyfriend. he has no development- even when he finally managed to say 'i love you', it was only because will told him to, encouraged him. and again- he has never been able to say it in an environment where she can respond to it.

mike's character assassination

i said it in the above paragraph, and i'll say it again- mike has been reduced to simply being el's boyfriend. gone is the mike of season one and two, the mike who yelled at his friends for being the only one who cared about finding will, the mike who stepped off a fucking cliff to protect dustin, the mike who could instantly tell whenever something was wrong with will, the mike who tried so hard to carry will out of the lab when hopper had to go back for joyce. all of that is gone.

he's one-dimensional, a massive jerk to his friends, painfully oblivious (and not in the funny or plot-moving way), and again- he only cares about el.

i mean, for fucks sake, he couldn't even tell that will was sobbing in the van next to him. season two mike would have noticed instantly and tried to make things better- but nope. none of that.

the fucking queerbaiting? what the fuck?

holy fucking shit it was bad. it was. so bad.

QUEER PEOPLE ARE NOT AN ADVERTISING TACTIC.

i mean, for fucks sake, i don't even want to talk about this. it might sound stupid, especially to casual viewers (although, lets be honest, what casual viewer is reading this- it's longer than essays i've written for a grade), but i feel so, so heartbroken. i've linked a post i made last night about why byler meant so much to me, if you want any extra context, but it's really not necessary to read.

https://hey-its-bucky.tumblr.com/post/688553205043511296/this-will-probably-be-my-last-post-before-i-go

queerbaiting is fucking horrendous. i'm not going to talk about any more. it makes me genuinely sick to my stomach to think about.

harmful tropes/stereotypes - part two

now, this one is about queer stereotypes- and this, i feel like i'm equipped to speak about, with my own personal experiences.

will's whole story line this season was an overused trope. it was the 'gay person is in love with their best friend, but oh no the love is unrequited, so gay person steps up as the "bigger person" and hides their feelings and helps best friend with their relationship while feeling broken inside' mixed with a little bit of 'sad gay boy' and then some 'in love with a straight person' thrown in for spice.

i'm not going to say that this doesn't happen. that would be a lie. this is word for word, something that i experienced. but that doesn't mean that it isn't a trope or a stereotype.

some people are going to fit a stereotype, and as long as that's actually who the person is and not just a caricature of them, that's okay. the issue arises when it's the only thing we see in the media, because it reinforces the idea that there's only one type of gay person.

i'm not going to go into this much more, because i know a large portion of people on this website are queer and very much understand what i'm talking about, but if you're really curious you can do some research on your own.

and, now, for the grand finale of my rant:

will's feelings for mike being used as a plot device

dear fucking god.

they used will's feelings for mike as a way to push mike towards saying 'i love you' to el. his personal connection, his love for mike, was only seen to progress a straight relationship. again- i should NOT have to tell you why that's problematic.

conclusion

i'm so tired, guys. physically, because it's 12:40 am, i've been writing this for an hour and a half, and i got like. five and a half hours of sleep last night. but i'm tired mentally, too.

i'm so fucking sick of the treatment of queer characters in media. i'm sick of lazy writing. i'm sick of stereotypes, of poorly-thought out decisions, and especially: I'M SO FUCKING SICK OF QUEERBAITING.

i'm tired, and i'm angry, and most of all, i'm disappointed. so, immensely disappointed.

i'm going to bed. i hope this all made sense. i'm sorry to those of you who feel the same way as me, because we all deserved better. best of luck to everyone. take some time for yourself- it might seem silly, but i know how much disappointment on this scale hurts. remember to drink water, and, of course:

fuck the duffer brothers.

[savagesbonergarage]

If you’re still taking requests, how would you feel about a Savage x Reader where the reader works in the Sundari palace as a hand of the duchess/lords and/or works as a diplomat, but then surprises Savage with her combat skills? (Steamy sparring/demonstration of said skills ensue from there? 👀) Feel free to make it as NSFW as you’d like (IF this is something you’d be interested in, that is 😅)!

I mean, of course?

I’m going to take some artistic liberties here and combine this request with another one, the second part to this ask about reader's first kiss with the Opress brothers. ☺️

A/n: I think the only warnings are violence, death and a little steaminess at the end? Nothing TOO steamy though...at least, not in THIS one ;)

This time featuring our favorite golden boy~

Savage

"First Kiss"

It happens after an intense battle.

The cowardly defectors of the Death Watch weren't content leaving Sundari Palace to it's rightful rulers, it seemed. It certainly wasn't an unanticipated move, with Prime Minister Almec having predicted some form of retaliation due to the imprisonment of the former Duchess Satine and the familial bond correlating with that other Kryze traitor who dared to reject Lord Maul upon Vizsla's defeat - however, no one seemed to foresee who their precise targets would be.

Rather than attempt to rescue Satine, they prioritized removing the alien intruders from the positions they obtained directly. An otherwise foolish and hasty move in any other circumstance, yet they managed to establish the perfect link that would lead them to victory - or so they thought. Before they could confront the zabraks they'd have to eliminate Almec, and in order to do that, they needed to eliminate you, his diplomatic aide. It might have worked, too, if they'd only been able to proceed beyond the first phase of their plan.

Unfortunately for them, you were also a mandalorian. Perhaps not the sort that paraded around in their armor and clung to their identity as a warrior for dear life, but you were well-versed in combat nonetheless. Despite the lack of battle situations in your daily life, you could hold your own fairly well should the need ever arise.

Today, it did.

You watched from the balcony of the palace as the city below became erratic with suspicious activity, the guards at their stations displaying unusual behavior as you watched them leave their posts and return unannounced, all the while some approaching unknown speeders crossed the boundaries of royal property - something only the traitors of the Death Watch would recklessly attempt. Clearly, some had already infiltrated the palace and were transmitting orders for a coup. Almec was inside, but he did at least have a few bodyguards with him. You, however, weren't detrimental enough to require protection, and therefore made an easy target to subdue before moving on to the rest of the ruling body - in theory.

In practice, the Death Watch assailants soon discovered that the first phase of their assassination plot had a bit of a hiccup, and by 'hiccup' that meant 'the weak-looking young lady in fancy robes is killing us, actually'. Every warrior that was sent up to dispatch you was never heard from again, and by the time the fourth comm cut out, they began arriving in pairs, and then triads. Eventually, too much precious time and muscle was wasted and the entire palace was made aware of the plot, with the red-embellished mandalorians quickly arriving to thwart the forces of the blue-armored enemies.

It was now or never if they had any hopes of weakening the fundamentals of the ruling body, so in a desperate attempt to at least get through to dispatch Almec, almost every one of their soldiers was sent to exterminate you. Ultimately this didn't go unnoticed, and even the zabrak brothers themselves were made privy to the onslaught of traitors surrounding you. Rather than send in reinforcements on his behalf, Savage was anxious to handle the situation on his own - for exactly what reason he couldn't quite determine - although he was cognizant of the fact that if it were anyone else being attacked, he wouldn't be as inclined to get personally involved.

Even though you were well-taught, you were only a single individual and therefore hardly capable of taking on what was undoubtedly a small army. The large and powerful zabrak arrived just in the nick of time to see you about to be overwhelmed by a handful of heavier-looking infantry soldiers, and before the final blows could be dealt, you looked up after being alerted to the sound of men screaming to see Savage’s arms yanking two of your attackers away and throwing them violently over the balcony. The crimson blades of his double-bladed lightsaber ignited, sending a rush of anticipation for what was to come through you as he stood with his back to you somewhat protectively, however, his resoundingly low voice ushered in a command that forbade your involvement.

"Leave, servant."

You collected yourself to the best of your ability and geared up to do as you were told, wiping some blood away from your face as you slinked off to let the zabrak handle the rest of the enemies. There weren't many left, no doubt he could defeat them all easily-

However, a horde of red-clad foes in stolen armor quickly flooded onto the platform via jetpack as well as on foot and surrounded him from all sides, firing projectiles and flames from their gauntlets all at once in an attempt to subdue him. They concentrated absolutely all of their firepower on Savage, aware that he'd still manage to take most of them out, which he did - but not before sustaining some significant damage. You watched the scene unfolding, taking notice of their strategy and how they were timing their efforts to make a constant barrage of attacks that would gradually injure him until he was weak enough to kill.

You weren't about to stand by and let that happen.

Fortunately, it seemed that your presence was all but forgotten while they focused on the beast rattling them around with his brute strength and bursts of force energy, which gave you the opportunity to give him more of a fighting chance before it was too late. There were openings all around, and although it would be risky to your own safety, you never thought twice about hesitating. Most of the onslaught that he couldn't deter was aerial, their attacks inevitable while he focused on battling the ground enemies that were posing a more immediate threat. That was your chance.

You made yourself known to them, running back out onto the balcony and yelling something to the effect of "forget something, di'kut?" while you left yourself an open and vulnerable target. One of the airborne attackers took the bait, redirecting his attention to you as he shot a restraining line from his gauntlet. You allowed it to reach you and wrap all around your leg, the wire sharp enough to constrict and cut through to exposed skin, yet you acted quickly despite the pain and yanked on the line with every ounce of strength you had, ignoring the cuts your palms sustained as you did so. He jerked downward, only by a few feet but it was enough that you could jump and latch onto him, delivering a swift kick to his face as you used the edge of his breastplate to cut the wire while you climbed onto his shoulders. He reached for you, but not quickly enough, as your thighs strangled his head and you violently jerked your hips all the way to the side, an obscene crack of bone sounding through the air as you ended him. The body went limp, yet the jetpack kept operating and you used the opportunity to guide yourself and the corpse to another of the flying opponents.

With a vibroblade that you retrieved from the dead man's belt, you punctured the jetpack and lept off of it right before the impact. He collided with an enemy utilizing their flamethrower, and the result was a fiery and undoubtedly lethal explosion that consumed not only its immediate target, but the remaining airborne attackers as well. You fell, not as gracefully as you would have liked with the force of the blast above sending you down hard, making a controlled landing nearly impossible - if you even landed, that is. Luckily, Savage took notice of your predicament and used the force to not-so-gently catch you before you missed the trajectory of the balcony completely, and with a flick of his wrist you were flung onto the hard ground. It wasn't a very graceful landing, either, as he was still preoccupied with his own battle when he helped you out - therefore the back of your head and torso took the brunt of your fall, which served to quicky render you unconscious.

~

The throbbing pain in your skull was sensational before you even opened your eyes. The smell of bacta filled your nostrils and the sterile sting of it was piercing through the open wounds on your skin, making you wince. However, what really seemed to fully awaken you wasn't any discomfort from this, but from the cold compress against your forehead. You stirred, and just before your lids cracked open, the pressure of the compress lessened significantly and the rag slid down the side of your face. There was a whoosh of air beside you, prompting you to look in that direction to see the blurry visage of black and gold heading toward the door.

"Lord Savage?" you inquired, voice caught between a croak and a squeak.

He stilled, apparently debating on whether or not to leave the medbay now that you had acknowledged his presence. After what felt like a full minute he pivoted on his feet to face you again, taking a single step forward as he thought of something to say.

"So," he began, a strange tinge of embarrassment in his tone, "you survived."

"I... yes," you replied, feeling a little flustered yourself for some reason, "...so did you." There was a pause that carried an unnerving amount of tension in it, and you decided to say something else to remedy the stupidly obvious statement you made. "What happened? Did the enemy retreat?"

Savage answered quickly, somewhat relieved to be having a less personal discussion. "Yes. Their forces were significantly depleted. Lord Maul is pleased with the outcome of the battle. I'm also- um...I'm pleased-, uh, grateful-, um, you fought good. Well. You fought well."

A small smile tugged at the edge of your lips, the unanticipated compliment lifting your spirits significantly. "Um, thank you. You fought well as...well."

Another painfully awkward silence. You swallowed, suddenly remembering your position as a diplomatic servant indebted to one of your masters. You spoke again, reverently and candidly. "Thank you for guiding my fall. You saved my life."

The zabrak's countenance softened for a moment before you took notice of the bob in his throat and what might have been a temporary flush in his tattooed cheeks. "Yes. Um, I apologize that it was a harsh impact. I was afraid that it did more har-" he caught himself, taking a moment to cough awkwardly into his fist before he continued, "I'm glad you're not dead." He winced after he spoke.

You felt your own face getting warmer, and this time you knew that it wasn't due to the absence of the cold cloth against your skin. It was...strange enough that he had complimented you earlier, and now he was more or less expressing relief that you were alive. It wasn't inherently anything to feel flustered about, yet you felt like he wouldn't have said those things let alone be here with you if it were anyone else. You couldn't quite discern what that possibly meant, but there was no denying what you hoped it was...

You snapped back into reality when you heard his voice again, realizing that you had been stupidly staring right at him while you were lost in thought. He looked almost strained, as though he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible and utterly failing to do so. "Your...injuries are stabilized?"

"Um..."

You sat up a little to get a better look at your own body, all properly bandaged and set despite the pain.

"Yes. What about your- oh."

Your thought was interrupted when you finally analyzed the man before you and found that he was still pretty battered in most places, the major wounds clean but still irritated without any coverings. He was raising a non-existent brow at you, confused by your concerned expression as you quickly forgot to filter your questions. "Do you not like bacta patches?"

Savage momentarily seemed somewhat reluctant to answer the question, but evidently decided to do so anyway. "I'm fine with patches. I hate droids."

Ah. After the unexpected welcome he and his brother received when the Death Watch first acquired them, it only made sense that Savage wasn't privy to being operated on by machines - and with the medbay being staffed solely with them, his disinclination to have his wounds checked was understandable. Still, your worry was outweighing your conscience, and the words slipped out before you could stop them. "I can help you."

Once again, silence. You wished that you'd been killed when your head hit the ground. What were you thinking, offering care beyond your duty to Lord Savage of all-

"Alright."

You blinked. He was serious. You both cleared your throats and avoided one another's eyes as he fumbled around looking for a chair to place at your bedside and you clumsily retrieved some bacta patches from your side table drawer. You set them on your lap and looked over as you felt him plop down onto the seat, and you almost audibly gasped when from the corner of your eye you realized he was nearly naked. You hadn't even heard him remove his heavy armor, but you...you didn't mind it. Don't stare, do not stare, do not-

"L-Let me see your arm," you managed to say coyly, feeling ridiculous as he extended his forearm and rested it in your hands, which made them look absolutely miniature in comparison. Savage was obviously a large man, but actually having him close like this and touching him only made the size difference that much more apparent. This was also something you didn't mind. His skin was so warm and rough even in places where the flesh would be more supple on anyone else, the texture so oddly pleasing against your fingertips, which were lingering a little longer than they should have been with every new patch you applied. It didn't take long for you to realize that your heart was racing, and you had to consciously pace your breaths to keep them from becoming ragged. Maker, pull yourself together!

Before long, you had applied the final patch and it was time to dress the last wound - his swollen lip. It didn't need an entire patch for such an insignificant injury, only a dab of bacta gel that you gingerly applied with the pad of your ring finger. This time, neither of you were able to avoid eye contact. You were both extremely cognizant of the...tenderness being displayed, and you could only hope that you weren't making him too uncomfortable, let alone aware of your more hidden impressions. You felt the warm wetness of the inside of his mouth against your finger, and with that you abruptly took your hand away before you did, said or thought something you might regret.

"Finished."

Savage examined your handiwork, seemingly pleased with the results. "Thank you."

"You're-, oh. I missed one."

You took his hand and faced the meat of his palm in your direction so you could get a better view of the significant scrape there. Once you had finally applied the actual last bandage, you smiled softly and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

"There we go," you uttered aloud, and without thinking, you brought his massive palm up to your lips and lightly kissed the patch over where the wound was. A beat. Your entire countenance sank as the realization of your actions finally hit you with the force of fifty rancors. Oh God. Oh my God. I really just did that. I just-

You reluctantly lifted your head to see that Savage was just as puzzled as you were, a little frozen in place as his eyes never left that spot on his hand. "What...?"

Oh, kriff.

"I-," you blurted, stopping yourself before you said I'm sorry, since, well, you weren't. Obviously you wanted to do it, but now the difficult part was explaining to the giant zabrak sitting in front of you what it all meant. Hell, you didn't really know for yourself what it all meant. "It's..." you tried again, "it's an old healing gesture. Parents will do it to their children's wounds to 'kiss them better'".

Dear God, that sounded even more pathetic out loud. Was it too late to run back out to the balcony and jump off? Maybe you could catch Lord Maul in a bad mood and he'd mercifully end you? Forget Maul, the zabrak you should be the most concerned with was presently almost right in your lap and any second now he could become unhinged-

Only, he didn't. He only looked...curious. Not angry, not confused, simply just curious. He was still studying his hand, his golden irises flickering while you all but held your breath. "Interesting," he finally replied, quelling your anxiety for the moment, "does it always work?"

"Um-"

His hand was at your mouth before you could respond, his expression charmingly eager. "Again."

Again?

He wanted you to do it again? To kiss his wound...again? You swallowed, your chest swelling up not with fear exactly, but with a strange anticipation that you weren't expecting to feel that night. It wasn't your place to deny him what he wanted, so you held his wrist up with both of your hands and carefully placed another kiss in the same spot, letting it linger for a while longer than the last. Your lips made a tiny yet audible smack against his skin when you pulled away, and Savage's eyes weren't on his wound when you drew back - they were on you.

"Hm," he whispered, "it works."

"Lord-"

"Here," Savage interrupted, bringing your hand to the patch on his chest, "this one, next."

You gazed up at him, as if to inquire if this was really okay, and his expression in return was genuinely insistent. Did he... Did he really believe that your kisses were helping, or was he...? You tried not to think about it too much, instead simply closing your eyes and bringing your lips to each patch he guided you to - his chest, his arm, his stomach, his thigh, his shoulder - and when you pulled away, heart pounding so rapidly there was no possible way of concealing it, your blush deepened when you felt Savage's lip against your fingertips. You gazed at him once again through half-lidded eyes and silently asked if he knew, if he really knew what he was doing - turns out, he did. He absolutely did. His arm was already snaking around your waist-

You started out carefully, just in case, only barely allowing your palms to graze against his pecs as you leaned in and softly collected the most swollen part of his lip in yours. You kept it chaste, making no moves to deepen it, and neither did he. You simply stayed like that for a while, only applying the slightest bit more pressure right before you pulled away. Your eyes met. There was a dual beating beneath your palms - two hearts - and with no further words needing to be exchanged between you, your mouths swiftly met again in tandem and your embrace on one another tightened. It wasn't very chaste this time, Savage uttering a growl into your mouth that wasn't at all menacing while his teeth grazed your lips, rather, it came from a place of sheer desire and need and passion-

It wasn't much longer before his large frame was pressing you into the bed, one of your hands cupping the back of his neck and the other gripping onto one of his long horns as you felt the bedframe staggering to support the weight. Savage also took notice of this and finally parted from you long enough to speak, his low breaths sensual and uneven. "Perhaps we'll continue this in my private chambers..." he growled into your neck, sending heat coursing all throughout your body before he finally asked, "do any of your wounds require...a healing gesture?"

You managed a playful chuckle, tenderly bringing your lips to his once more. "Yes. All of them."

He smiled against your skin before effortlessly picking you up and holding you against his chest. "I have my work cut out for me," he purred against your neck before pulling your body even closer to him. "I'll take all your pain away."

[mim526]

I think this post touches on a subject important for the UK and the world.

Based on occasional references in speeches, etc. QEII personally was probably more inclined to agree with her husband and son Charles but did not allow her personal opinions to cross into her functioning as head of state. Charles was ahead of the curve on organic farming, but I think climate change, specifically the push to eliminate fossil fuels, could be the Achilles heel of Charles and William if they attempt some sort of govt/private cooperation. Unless and until alternatives are as reliable and affordable as fossil fuels, a majority of the general populace won't get behind it, nor should they IMO.

Largely populated areas like China, India continue burning fossil fuels, often not the cleanest. Meanwhile the West, where some countries are already using much cleaner fossil fuel and nuclear energy, makes large scale decisions detrimental to our national economies without the public's concurrence. I believe in taking care of the environment sensibly (e.g., use less plastic), but can see at last four good reasons to be skeptical about climate change activism:

through the years as alarmist predictions have failed to pan out, the language has changed until now it's just "climate change" which has been going on since as far back in history as we can trace

traditionally democratic governments are increasingly using "climate change" to expand government control over the populace in ways that impact their survival and way of life (e.g., food supply and forcibly confiscating farmland, restricting movement to within a certain distance from their residence, etc.)

there is no debate on the subject allowed. True science by its very nature is all about research, hypotheses, and always questioning. Where there is no debate or questioning allowed, there is no science.

the environmental danger to oceans is much more visible and obvious yet gets a fraction of the attention climate change does (William's Earthshot addresses oceans to his credit). Could it be because ocean pollution does not lend itself to controlling the populace (#2) like climate change...?

I found this video conversation between clinical psychologist Jordan Peterson and Dr. Judith Curry (climatologist) very instructive on the subject of climate. This woman is a scientist, not an activist. She doesn't hesitate to correct Dr. Peterson when he makes assumptions she does not feel entirely accurate, which gives greater confidence that it's a more balanced, truthful interaction. Bottom line: the data does not support the claims being made about "climate change" with near the level of certainty those claims are being given.

Nowadays, the only engagements they attend are ‘causes close to their heart’ ignoring all other sectors of British society. Diana’s legacy is somewhat responsible for that as well since she has become this life changing royal.

And to be fair Charles is a big responsible about it too. I really respect his huge humanitarian work, his activism about the environment, etc . And he has been able to make half of his job about causes ‘close to his heart’ but also ‘royal’ stuff, but he was one of the first people ‘changing’ the meaning of how a royal family should work and what they ‘should’ do.

As I’ve said, I appreciate that he is able to do royal stuff too, but everytime he is out and about, all the visits are connected with sustainability and environment (not that is wrong tho, and at least he visits lots of places everywhere connected with his causes and has the opportunity to met lots of people) but even his speeches are the same message (it’s easy to imagine what he will say everytime he opens his mouth). At the end the monarchy is ‘political’ but after seeing his successful Germany tour, not surprised why press is labeling as the ‘Political King’, because that’s the direction he wants to give to the RF, to open their mouths and have an opinion about everything, specially their causes and to have more ‘purpose’ (again, it’s not bad, but not what I’m expecting from royals, when they only focus on their interest and when they want to cut all the tradition). There is no balance, everybody is doing whatever they want.

You hit the nail in the head. Even the coronation has to be ‘sustainable’ and he constantly pushes it. I personally like the Prince’s Trust which is more of a legacy Royal foundation helping people like Prince Albert would. But otherwise, I much preferred the Queen’s approach. I wonder why William seems to be going down Charles’ route when he said in an interview that he would model on the Queen instead.

[hinaaspanda]

...and they were (more than) roommates! | njm

Pairing: Campus Pretty Boy + Roommate! Jaemin x Dancer! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 9576

Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin. 

a/n; hi! for this fic i tried adding my own oc (Hina) just to spice things up!! lol totally not to insert myself as jenos love interest or anything ahaha anyways please enjoy!

Huang Renjun never thought that breaking off one college relationship would be so detrimental to your heart. 

It really was such a small relationship, just one month of innocent pecks on the cheeks in between classes, weekend dinner dates, and trips around the city on your breaks. It was such a minute thing, yet your heart couldn’t get enough. You grew invested, never wanting to let go. Becoming dependent on mere goodbye kisses. And after one month of being together, you were stuck watching him drift away, fingers intertwined with that of someone new. Now, of course, one question remained; if it was such a short relationship, why in the world did it hurt your heart so much? 

You sat under the brisk afternoon sunlight, gnawing at the cafeteria food as your campus friends began bickering over god knows what. You tune out the ruckus before you, your mind wandering like a lost child between the aisles of a supermarket. An image of him swims into your mind as you curse under your breath. It didn’t matter how healthy your break up was, or how put together your persona must’ve seemed. The only thing you wanted was to be in Renjun’s arms once again. 

Suddenly, you felt the stares of a concerned Hina and Shotaro burning through you. Your shoulders shivering at the sudden thrust into the spotlight. Was your thinking face that miserable-looking? You sent a half-assed chuckle in the hopes of diverting their attention.

“Is something wrong-”

“You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” Your childhood friend, Hina, began rather harshly, throwing off your more laid-back classmate, Shotaro. “About Renjun?” 

The soda that slid down your throat almost shot out of your lips, straight into the air as Hina stared you down, interrogating you. How obvious were you? You pondered for a little bit, your eyes now meeting Hina’s and Shotaro’s concerned ones. You couldn’t defy the truth to your overly caring friends, even if you tried. “...Yeah. I was.” 

The somber air around you thickened with each passing minute as you finished off your lunch for the day. You wince, fearing your friends would, out of disappointment in your inability to shut up about your failed love life, cut ties with you right then and there. You wouldn’t blame them, though. Even you were starting to get tired of your weak, measly heart. Shotaro breaks the silence, a sweet grin plastered on his face. 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n! You just need to find something to get your mind off of him!” Shotaro chirps, his upbeat demeanor infecting Hina beside him. Hina continues, a grin now lining her lips.

“How about another date? With someone new!” 

You almost scoff out loud. “Another date?”

The bold figure of Hina crossed her arms in disbelief. “There are other guys out there, y/n. What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?.”

“My roommate? No! We’re just friends, nothing else!” You quickly retort, waving your hands in a very strong denial. Hina’s head tilted in persuasion.

“You’ll never know until you try, y/n.” Your head hung low as you let out the fifth sigh that day. You loved Hina, you truly did, but with these outlandish ideas protruding from her head, you were convinced she was going crazy. 

...

“What? You gonna chicken out or something?” Donghyuck scoffed through a disgusting amount of food stuffed in his mouth. “You’re telling me the campus hottie’s too scared to go on a date?” Jaemin’s eyes sent nothing but death threats to the aggravating college student, sipping on the vending machine drink destructive to his health. He was offended, to say the least. Offended at how inaccurate his so called ‘friend’ was being, anyways. 

Na Jaemin had it all.  A decent fashion sense, heavenly proportions, good grades and work ethic. A face most people would classify as attractive, and a bright, luring smile to tie it all together. Some say he was the whole package, driving the women of the campus insane as they line up to get a simple glimpse of the school’s resident hottie. He was the campus pretty boy, but one question remained; why was he still single?

It’s been theorized by many, some believing in his virtuous desire to focus on his studies, while others believe he might just swing another way or simply not interested in the idea of romance. But one thing stayed true, Na Jaemin was not some coward who couldn’t get a date. 

The pretty boy sat before his set of now intrigued college friends, Donghyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang, all riddled with such an irritating curiosity it made Jaemin cringe. It was only Tuesday, Jaemin had a tower of school work waiting for him back at home, and the last thing he needed was three idiots challenging his love life. He reached for another sip of his drink, cursing at lack of said drink in the can. 

 “Don’t be stupid, Hyuck. I could get a girl if I wanted to. I’m just...busy right now, with schoolwork and stuff” 

“Oh really?” Donghyuck’s sly voice ticked a flame in Jaemin’s soul. He huffed out a disbelieving scoff as he leaned back on the cheap, plastic chair.   Was he really doubting him? He quite literally had the entire female population of the school at his grasp, and Donghyuck was doubting him? Lee Donghyuck was bound to eat his words, as gross as a child to their ice cream. 

“Yeah, I can get any girl around here, just watch. And if I don’t?” Jaemin’s eyes scour around, searching for a way out another stupid idea before finally landing on the trash pile that was Yangyang’s homework. “...I’ll do your guy’s homework for a week.” 

Everyone’s eyes widened at Jaemin’s proposal, a proposal that stunted even the slyest of prankers, Lee Donghyuck himself. Was he really going all out? Sacrificing a week of freetime for some measly bet? Even stupefying the once unbothered Jeno, trapped in his own, unexpectedly unfortunate love life. 

“Dude are you serious? Deal!” Donghyuck and Yangyang practically hollered, both sending Jaemin a crisp slap on the back. Na Jaemin, how much of an idiot are you?

“So, who do you think you're gonna go for?” Jeno gripped the strap of his school bag as him and Jaemin trotted away from their final class of the day. Jaemin huffed out what felt like the 100th sigh that afternoon. His eyes grazing the trees peeking through the campus windows. Surely he needed a plan, right? No matter how many girls relished in his good looks, he wouldn’t possibly survive without one. Jaemin’s palms grew cold, pupils shaking in a sudden fear. God, maybe he would be stuck writing Yangyang’s overdue essays for the next week. 

“What about that y/n girl?” Jeno suddenly chirped. “The quiet one from the dance department?” 

Jaemin froze in his tracks, looking synonymous to a deer caught in headlights. He tilted his head, puzzled, to say the least. “...y/n?” 

“Yeah, I heard she got out of a relationship recently.” 

Jaemin’s once boastful voice soon grew into a stuttering mess as Jeno walked past him, sending a heartwarming chuckle. Jeno turned around, giving one final look to Jaemin, currently bathing underneath the small snippets of evening sunlight. 

“It’s just something to think about, Jaem. Don’t worry about it too much.” 

...

Your legs were anything but stable as you stepped off the city bus that night. You loved to dance, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said it drained you faster than a mosquito sucking out your blood. The mustard streetlight effortlessly cascaded off of your frame as your wobbly figure began its long trek to your apartment. Sudden buzzes from your phone shook you awake一a sensation your exhausted self clearly needed一before you clicked on the notification. 

Roomie :) [7:34pm]: I bought us some dinner before I got home

Roomie :) [7:34pm]: sorry it’s frozen pizza lol I’m too poor :((

Roomie :) [7:36pm]: oh also I got a favour to ask when u get here

Your mind trails back to lunch, with a familiar phrase replaying in your head for the umpteenth time that day. 

 How about another date? With someone new?

You huffed out another somber sigh, something you found yourself doing a lot, lately. Could you really do it? Could you finally let go of the dead weight? Finally free yourself of the heartbreak tainting you? You feel your heart clenching inside you as you fumble with your house keys. Could your heart handle another simple date?

What about your roommate? Isn’t he single?

No, your roommate didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve being bombarded with the atrocity that was your failed love life. He was too sweet, too caring to deal with anything of the sort. Besides, with how gentle and pleasant he is, it was certain you didn’t deserve him. 

This wouldn’t have been the first time you held your roommate in such high regard. He really had it all, a kind personality, decent looks, and an exquisite taste in cheap, diabetes inducing food. He knew all the best coffee places and knew the perfect times to surprise you with your favorite drinks. He wasn’t just some rando who split the rent with you. He was your friend. A sudden rush of unwanted blood heats up your cheeks as you stop in your tracks. 

He was your friend. Nothing more. 

The golden light of your apartment blinded you as you strolled in. The figure of your roommate was cast before you, dawning his classic ivory shirt and grey sweatpants, paired perfectly with his undone hair, and a plate of steaming hot pizza, straight from the microwave. It looked nothing like the pretty boy image he left your apartment with before class this morning. It was surreal, really. Only you got the luxury to see him like this. It was one of the strange perks of being roommates with the one and only, Na Jaemin. 

“Welcome home!” Jaemin chirped to your sleepy figure. He thrusted the plate of pizza to you, a smile wiped across his cheeks. “Pizza?” 

...

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest.

Your trembling, sweaty palms couldn’t stop shaking since dinner, almost breaking one of your scarce dinner plates in the process of washing them. You couldn’t blame yourself, though. Na Jaemin’s proposal was nothing but calming.

“So, what were you gonna ask me, anyways?” You spat through your mouth full of rubbery pizza. God, you need to eat properly before practice. You glanced at our roommate, currently fiddling with the tips of some miscellaneous fork as he suddenly dodged your eyes. 

“Uh, yea, that.” He stuttered. So timid, it was unreal to you. Usually this man had no fear of asking for favours. Whether it was doing his laundry or fixing up dinner on his assigned day of the week, he would never show any hesitation on asking you to do anything. 

“Okay this is gonna sound weird, but…” Jaemin started, breaking into a cold sweat. “I need you to go on a fake date with me.” Jaemin finally exhaled before connecting his eyes with yours. The whites of your eyes spilled out, along with the juice that almost had the chance of successfully slipping down your throat. He wanted... what?

“Don’t worry! It’s just gonna be one date! I made this stupid bet with Hyuck, and if I don’t get a date soon, I need to do their homework for a whole week!” He gripped the locks of his hair as he slumped onto his side of the dining table.

You shuffled back to the dining room, clenching your paper towel tightly in your palm. Anything to help calm your rapid heart down, just for a moment. “And, you can use this as a chance to distract yourself from that Renjun asshole.”

A sudden pain struck your chest like a lightning bolt to a lanky tree, barren in a grassland. You wince at the sudden calling of that name, your taste buds growing sour. You let out another soft sigh. You really need to get over him, fast. You stretch up from your seat, hoisting up the now empty dinner plate as you trudge towards the sink. But not before stopping in your tracks, tilting your head in Jaemin’s direction. 

“I-uh-I’ll think about it.” 

Oh, you thought about it, alright. Screamed into your poor, innocent pillow about it, at least. 

It all zoomed too fast for you, too swift for your brain to handle. Your breathing grew short and shallow. You felt as if you could die, right then and there, gripping onto your bed sheets while freaking out about Na Jaemin, your bold roommate. No, you couldn’t take up his risque offer. You were in no shape to go on another date, even if it did have no actual meaning behind it. You were too tangled in your mess of a life, and this stupid move would only fan the fire. 

You can use this as a chance to distract yourself from Renjun. 

The phrase rang through your head more time than you would’ve liked. No matter how much you shielded yourself from his claim, Jaemin would still be right in that manner. You needed to distract yourself, sure. But was this the way to go? 

Another sigh escapes your lips as you rush down the hall of your apartment. Your steps, hesitant as ever, dripping in a mix of confusion, exhaustion and nervousness. It’s official. You are the worst at well thought-out decisions. 

“Hey” you huffed at your roommate, eyeing him timidly as he washes the dishes. Something your shaken figure couldn’t properly complete without breaking a glass that night. He shifts to face you, a slightly nervous expression painting him. You clear your throat before continuing, hoping that small cough would stop time in its tracks. 

“I-I’ll go on that date with you.”

His classic boisterous smile spreads across his face once again. If your mind wasn’t rushing around in four different places at once, you could probably admit that you found it the slightest bit cute. 

“Really? Thanks so much! How does this Saturday at 7 sound?”

You only had the mental energy to swiftly nod your head as you zoomed back into the confines of your room, your safe space. You couldn’t help but notice the heat rising back to your cheeks as you plopped back onto the bed, vigorously scrolling through your phone to find your saviours.

the gorls and shotaro [9:48pm]: guys I need help with something

the gorls and shotaro [9:49pm]: let’s meet at hina’s after class

...

“I don’t care if you’re just going on some fake date to lie to his friends, I still wanna make you look hot!” Hina never failed to leave you, Shotaro, and probably some people passing by her house, shaken by her booming voice. With her small, fragile looking frame, she was the last one you’d expect to have such a bold personality. 

“Please, that’s the fifth dress in your closet she’s tried already. It’s just a fake date, we don’t even need to try hard!” Shotaro challenges, his attention leaving a now grumbling Hina as it turns towards you. “Why did you even say yes, anyways?” 

“I dunno, I’m stupid?” You murmur, the hint of bitterness caught in your breath. You give a subpar twirl to your audience, a deadpan expression shielding your face. “I guess I wanna help him? It would suck to do all that homework for a week.” 

“Yeah, but he could easily ask any other girl on the campus. This is freaking Na Jaemin we’re talking about!” Hina once again hollered. An action that would guarantee her a slap on the head if you didn’t love her so much.

“Are you sure it's just for that stupid bet?”

You slip into the makeshift change room, which was really just blankets hung on coat hangers, propped across two sides of a corner in Hina’s room. After making your final decision for your outfit of the night, you change back into your own clothes, stalling your response to Hina’s question. You never knew why you felt the need to stall, though. You should know your answer by now, right?

“Yeah, it’s just for the bet, nothing else.” You find your voice trailing off at those last words of yours as you emerge from the corner, holding the destined outfit that made the cut. Hina sighed, plopping onto the bed like the main character of those dramas after they finally find out they’re in love. 

“Just make sure you aren’t lying to yourself, y/n. It could hurt you.”

“Oh really? Isn’t it time you listen to your own advice??” Shotaro provoked, Hina now shooting up from the bed in irritation. “How are things going with that Jeno guy, huh?” 

“I am going to murder you.” Hina’s voice stayed low, barely trembling before zooming through the door, chasing a now escaping Shotaro and his incredibly fast feet. You, however, couldn’t pray for Shotaro’s survival. Not with your mind stuck in it’s own rut, and your cheeks now glowing a violent pink. 

This was just for a bet, nothing else. You reminded yourself once again.

...

“This wasn’t too bad, right?” His soothing voice swam through your ears softly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm down your heart, which was currently pacing anywhere but your chest. You mustered up all the courage in the world to glance back at his eyes across the restaurant table, your breaths stopping in an effort to hide the sudden rush of blood flowing to your cheeks. With his unbothered eyes locking onto yours in an instant, Na Jaemin sent you another one of his heartache-inducing smiles. “Thanks for helping me with this.” 

This shouldn’t be affecting you this much. After all, the only thing you and Jaemin really did was sit under the restaurant roof, order dishes deemed perfect under the social media lens, and take pictures with said dishes, becoming the perfect pieces of evidence to show that Na Jaemin was no coward. However, with the romantic, first date type outfit draped onto your figure, and the general ambience of the room, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit flustered. You shot him another smile, one hiding the forest fire that was your mental state. “Uh, yeah! No problem!”

Silence fell over the two of you as you listened to the clinks of glass sounding off from the dishwashing station behind you. A silence that you wanted to hold onto more than anything. But alas, Your roommate breaks it, glancing up from the ground. 

“You look great, by the way.”

Your cheeks flush a deep vermillion. They’ve been doing that a lot lately.

“Thanks, Jaem.” You barely muster out, dodging his eyes. “But you don’t have to say stuff like that, this is all fake, remember?” You took the time to remind him, not fully sure who truly needed it. You fiddled with your fingers as your ears picked up the sudden ruckus of obnoxious college students coming from down the dining hall.

“You should ask her out, Jeno!” a voice chirped

“No! Are you crazy? She probably thinks I’m weird or something”

“I doubt it, you’re hot! Plus, she’s in my department! I can alway ask-”

“Guys, quick, look! Over there!”

The voices grew closer and closer, the whites of your eyes spilling more and more in utter shock. You can’t help but check on Jaemin, the same expression now burning through you. You mirrored each other so much, you could tell the exact words running through his mind right now. Mostly because they ran through yours, too. Oh Shit.

“JAEMIN!!” The voice of an irritating Lee Donghyuck rang through your ears at an alarming, and unwanted rate. The hollers of an equally aggravating Liu Yangyang from Jaemin’s class, swiftly followed, leaving behind the only tolerable one, Lee Jeno behind. “I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“Ahaha, hey!” Jaemin stuttered, panic overflowing in his eyes as the three intruders squished into the already occupied, two person booth. His eyes scanned the restaurant, grasping for any way to escape. Afterall, this was certainly not part of the plan. Donghyuck’s curious eyes scanned, too, his pupils finally focusing on you. “And who might this be?”

“I-I’m y/n” You stuttered out, your wrist feeling heavy as you began gesturing to the date in front of you. “I’m his da-”

A lightbulb jumped from Jaemin’s head, his shoulder jolting in response. Na Jaemin wasn’t one for outlandish pranks, especially if you were at the receiving end, which only made your thumping heart wonder; what the hell was he trying to pull now?

“She’s my date.”

Suddenly, your once isolated and vacant hand was tugged to the center of the dinner table before softly getting encased in his. His fingers, notably bigger than your nimble ones, interlocked with yours. Heat began to creep up at your ears. Who knew your hand fit so perfectly in his? You looked down, foolishly hoping that your cheeks would stop flushing into that embarrassing red if you hid it well enough. “See?”

“Oh!” Donghyuck lined his lips with a stupid grin, his eyebrows wiggling as he scoffs in disbelief. Yangyang riled up with excitement beside him, and even the calm Jeno couldn’t stop his jaw from falling to the floor. Na Jaemin did it. He really pulled it off. “I guess we’re disturbing something, then?” 

“No worries! We were just about to leave, anyways” Jaemin still held onto that panicked tremble in his voice as the two of you shuffled through the restaurant booth. He stalked behind you before handing you your coat. “See you guys tomorrow!” 

Your mind couldn’t help but focus on the light touch Jaemin’s palm left on the lower, small of your back as he gently escorted you from the restaurant. You felt like a princess, protected by your knight’s brute strength, as you tiptoed on your path of feathers.  That darned flushed heat wouldn’t leave your cheeks. Na Jaemin, your one and only roommate, was driving you crazy.  

The wind roughly brushes against your cheek as the two of you finally exit the restaurant. The breeze was the last thing you would’ve classified as comfortable, which was why you felt just the slightest twinge of disappointment once the warmth of his hand snaked away from you. His palm hugged the nape of his neck as his eyes softened from their former panic. 

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know they’d show up so randomly.”

No, he had nothing to apologize for. It was your fault for being so greedy. You instinctively widen the distance between you, saving yourself from a wave of embarrassment.  

“It’s fine.”

It’s official, you hated your weak heart more than anyone. 

...

Three. There were three instances in which your heart was set on fire the next day, by none other than the infamous Na Jaemin, of course. 

[10:49 am]

A violent GAME OVER! blasted through your ear drums as you slumped on the couch, watching your roommate die for the 70th time that evening. He let out an equally jolting groan, throwing the controller to the depths of your living room carpet before rushing to check if it was okay. You sat promptly on the couch he leaned against, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as if last night you didn’t experience the most heart-collapsing date in the 19 years of your life. 

Your heart still hasn’t properly healed from it, either. Every time you pass by him in the halls, whether it be a quick snack or a glass of water, your heart never fails to tense up, your throat tightening up in a cruel response. You swear, Na Jaemin was out for your blood the moment he asked you to stay in the living room with him, even if it was to simply watch him fail play. 

“Aw fuck me!” Jaemin suddenly blurted out as he examined the now loosened control button. As if on cue, an army of redness storms through your cheeks as you listen in, his simple word choice setting you off. Your head shakes vigorously enough to give you a pounding headache, before you get the chance to fill your head with certain spoiled thoughts. Wow, you really are evil. 

You didn’t spare him the explanation for your sudden departure from the living room couch. All you knew was that your mind and heart were running haywire, and the only thing that could stop you from thinking about your roommate as anything but your roommate was a deep rethinking of your own morals beside your castle of stuffed animals. 

[2:45 pm]

“Here, I’ll get that for you.” Jaemin’s towering figure shielded your back from the apartment kitchen as he stretched over, retrieving the ranging dish your pitiful frame couldn’t reach. He closed the air between you, his extended chest grazing your shoulder as you stood frozen, your mouth gaping open. He sends you a playful grin as he hands you the plate. “You should try growing a little more, y/n!”

You were too stuck in your questionable haze to tighten your grip on the glass plate, so it was only natural to feel the glass slip through your fingers, shards of the crisp material scattering around your bare feet. Frightened, Jaemin scurried below you, the gentleness of his fingers as he picks up each shard of glass sending butterflies to your stomach. 

“Oh my god! Y/n, are you alright!?” You wanted to scoff at his face. Of course you weren’t.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

He glances up from below you, his fingers circling the new scratch on your foot that only surfaced from your astound clumsiness. 

“Be careful next time, alright?” 

You nod hesitantly, staying frozen as Jaemin swiftly works around you; throwing out the dangerous glass shards, running away to retrieve your first aid kit, and patching up your pathetic wound in what felt like one swift heartbeat. God, how pathetic were you?

[8:22 pm]

“Have you seen my hoodie? The blue one?” Jaemin showed no mercy to your innocent door as it swung straight into the wall beside it. You let out an award-winning shriek, your once calm figure jumping from its curled up position. “I think it’s in your laundry bin.”

What he actually had on was...minimal. Nothing but tousled, damp hair and a white towel hooked around his waist. You would let out another shriek if you wanted to, but the lack of air reaching your lungs, all from the utter shock of a half-naked Na Jaemin in your wake, stopped you from spitting out any kind of noise imaginable. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of your poor teddy bear as you shield your eyes from your door frame. 

“Gahh! What are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh.” It finally clicked in his mind that his current appearance was not for the faint of heart. Not for yours, at least. You let out another ear- piercing wail. “Put on a shirt already!!” 

Jaemin let out a boastful, childish laugh. He leaned over, digging for your eyes, which were currently finding anything else to lay their attention on. “What, are you getting flustered?”

Your eyes finally meet up with his as he keeps you hostage with his stare. A familiar heat storms up your cheeks for the millionth time that evening as you grip the limb of another one of your stuffies on standby. With one final whine, you chuck the plush at his direction. Your lack of looking back all in an effort to hide your glowing red face, out for revenge. “Get out!”

“You’re so cute, y/n.” Jaemin teasingly hums as he slips out of your door frame. You let out an exhausted huff, your chest loosening so much, you’re convinced you haven’t been properly breathing before then. 

Na Jaemin will seriously be the death of you. 

...

You knew it was cowardly, but you just had to run away. Your weak heart wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise. 

You wisp into the barren walls of the dance studio, the flickering lights blinding your vision as you switch them on. You shuffle to the corner of the room, dropping your bag before fumbling with the music station. A soothing song swims through your ears as you settle down in the center of the room, an eye keeping watch of your posture. You close your eyes. Maybe this will finally calm your heart down. 

You start slowly, an arm traveling artistically through the air as your legs twirl around the floor. The melody of the music carries your limbs away, leaving your mind alone to think. 

They were just simple interactions, a simple slip up ending with a broken dish, a simple choice of words, a simple clasp of the hands to keep up with some measly lie. They were such small things, so why did your heart light up in flames everytime? Why did each instance leave a staining image of Jaemin in your mind, everytime? 

You think back to the man that held your heart, before brutally smashing it with his own fist. Huang Renjun. He hasn’t grazed your mind for quite some time now, but this familiar feeling wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Your heart soaked itself in that same lonely feeling, the desire to cling back. You froze from your dance, expecting full well your mind would submerge in a pool of sorrow. Yet, this week was just full of surprises, wasn’t it?

Another image of your horrid roommate flies into your mind, your head mentally swatting it away like a pestering insect. Nonetheless, it’s trailed back, persistent as ever, as you grumble your way to turn off the music. Na Jaemin, wins again. 

You could admit, Jaemin kept his promise at shielding your mind away from your failing love life, but he never warned you about the repercussions that were of him seeping into a corner of your heart. His risque, almost flirty behaviour, his teasing remarks, a smile that would brighten up a barren world. He just wouldn’t leave your mind. Yet, you knew you couldn’t have him. If your forest fire of a romance with Renjun had taught you anything, it was that you couldn’t love. You were too clueless, too childish to properly hold someone’s heart. You didn’t deserve anyone’s love. 

After gathering your belongings, you trek out the door. You were so lost in your thoughts, not even the thing you held to your heart so dearly, dancing, could pull you out of your rut. You were in no state to go back home just yet, so your fingers trace your phone screen to look for Hina, your resident childhood friend and therapist, apparently. And you wished you had the luxury of plopping onto Hina’s bed, screaming out all your anger into her pillow as she sneaks snacks up to her room, but your horrid life had other plans. 

A familiar figure stop’s in their tracks, their bag swaying in their grasp一a grasp that was almost loosened in pure shock一 as they connect their eyes to yours. You stay frozen, your breath hitching as you search for anything to say. And by the looks of it, they were doing the same. 

“Y-y/n?” The voice of a flabbergasted Huang Renjun rings through your ear. “W-what are you doing here?”

...

It didn’t take Jaemin long to realize you had left early that morning. Your dance bag left an awkward space beside your night stand in its absence, the dish drying rack was already occupied, with one simple plate and a glass turned over. But more importantly, Jaemin woke up with an empty, lost feeling rumbling inside him一something he only felt when you weren’t around. 

It first occurred during the third week of splitting rent, when you joined the school’s dance team. You had left the room without a trace, leaving Jaemin to search for you like a lost puppy to its reluctant owner, instead of getting ready for his afternoon class. He tried his best to brush it off as simple boredom, but with the way his vision simply lights up in your presence, even he started to get suspicious of himself. 

He couldn’t quite pinpoint it at first, the very reason you always trailed in his mind. It could have been anything. Your immense amount of talent, the wisp of anonymity that surrounded you, one he strived to break to get to know you better. The angelic personality he was first greeted with once he did break down that barrier. Anything about you could’ve easily pulled his heart closer to you. He was in love. 

Nevertheless, he clearly wasn’t obvious enough, as within weeks of beginning your college career, your figure was cradled in the arms of another man. Huang Renjun, resident A+ student and Jaemin’s childhood classmate.  

As the days pass by, and he becomes bombarded with endless homework, the two of you slowly drift apart, returning to the simple ‘roommate’ label on your contact lists. He resorts to the abundance of girls around the campus. Hoping each one he’d fool around with could finally get his head away from you. Yet, as he always comes home just to see your face, so did his heart, apparently. 

Don’t get him wrong, he felt terrible the night you trudged home in tears, the fresh sadness of a break up welling through you. And he tried everything in his power to make you feel better, though it never worked. But一 and he would rather kill a man than ever let this slip from his tongue一he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit relieved that you were finally in his grasp once again.

“So, how serious are you? About her?” Jeno quizzed through the phone, a now distressed Na Jaemin on the other side of the line. Jaemin fell onto the bed, dust particles jumping into the air. 

“I really like her” Jaemin huffed.

“So? Then go tell her! You should be with her, not here blabbering about her to me. Look, you don’t have anything to worry about, Jaem. It’s not like she’s in a relationship anymore.”

Jaemin's eyes widen and Jeno’s nonchalant words. That's right. You weren’t taken anymore. Not trapped in the confines of another man’s arms. It was what he was fighting for, all those months ago. Na Jaemin finally had a shot with you. 

“Are you sure you like her?” Jeno pulled Jaemin back to reality as Jaemin scrambled to the bathroom. He placed the device down on the bathroom sink, his eyes locking in with his reflection from the bathroom mirror. “Yeah.”

He chuckled to himself before ending the call, an image of you rolling into his mind. ‘Like’ would be a deep understatement. He was in love, has been for months now, and he was finally ready to tell the truth. He probably looked like a little kid hungry for ice cream, but he didn’t care. He paced out the door. He was going to finally have you, once and for all. 

...

“She and I are good, yeah.” Renjun stuttered out, not looking past the drink he hastily purchased before the two of you sat down in the campus cafe. “What about you? How have you been?” 

With all your might, you stopped your throat from belting out a petty laugh. How have you been? Was he being serious? You’ve been pleasant, aside from all the inner turmoil ringing through your heart at the moment. You sent a bogus smile at the man in front of you. “I’ve been...alright.”

The awkward silence suffocated you, squeezing your throat so tight, not a single sliver of air could slip through. Why did he come across you now of all times? And why did he have to be so much more emotionally sound than you were? Renjun shifted around, clearing his chest with a small ahem! You knew he was always a man who would never beat around the bush, and today was no exception. 

“I’m sorry…” His sudden confession shook you to your core, the liquid inside your glass mimicking your shivering movements. Your eyes, out of pure shock, finally take the courage to graze across Renjun as he continues. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I know I didn’t give you that much of an explanation back then.” 

Your eyes retire back to the wooden table in front of you. He didn’t need to apologize. He didn’t need to explain himself at all, not when your greedy heart was at fault. “I knew I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I wasn’t enough for you.” 

“You don’t have to apologize, Renjun.” You were having enough trouble forgetting him as it is, you didn’t need this. 

“I didn’t wanna lie to myself, so that’s why I left you so abruptly like that.” He explains, his fingers turning white from his grip on the coffee cup. Your breaths grow short, your mind scurrying to find the hidden meaning behind his words. All this time, your mind retired to the idea of him running away from your clinging figure, claiming that now rash narrative as valid; correct. Tearing your heart up into little pieces in the process. 

“So we didn’t break up because I was being...selfish?”

“Selfish? Of course not.” He comforted. “You deserve someone else, someone way better than me.” 

Your mind trails back to your roommate once again, his smile growing more contagious. You find your lips sneaking in a small smile at the thought of him. Except, this time, no twinge of sorrow had followed. Like a bag of bricks lifted off your shoulders, you were finally free. You shined a genuine grin, your first in a long while. “So, we’re good?”

“Of course, y/n.”

You were so trapped in your own childish thoughts, you didn’t notice the hasty booming steps crash through the cafe door frame. 

“Y/N!” The voice of your roommate flew through your ears, striking you like a deer caught in blinding headlights. His volume was so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard him from the outside of the cafe.  “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

...

Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back. Generally unbothered with a smirk lining his lips every now and then. It was one of the ways he stayed on top of the collective campus hierarchy for so long, he was always calm, cool, and collected. He always was, except for today. Instead, he was scrambling at his feet, thumbing through every inch of the school, looking for the infamous y/n. 

He finally skips to the cafe, the faint scent of coffee and flavouring overtaking him. He was a panting mess, his hands gripping at the bolts of his knees as he leaned over in pure exhaustion. It was weird, Jaemin always considered himself to be decently fit. It must’ve been you, suddenly turning his world upside down. 

She’s gotta be here. 

As if on cue, your head pops up on the corner of his eye, basking under the afternoon sunlight which generously seeped through the cafe window. Your eyes weren’t on him, but that wasn’t the worst of his problems. His eyes travel further down your direction, his limp legs mindlessly following like a puppet on two strings. Your eyes weren’t on Jaemin. They were on someone else. 

Renjun.

A familiar clenching feeling pulls on his heart harshly, so much so, that his hands reach up to palm the pain through his chest. He’s only felt this rude awakening one other time in the 19 years of his life; the moment you left the house on your first ever date with Huang Renjun. A flame ignites within him as he stalks up to the table. With his heaving breaths and awkward, stiff posture, it was inevitable he'd summon a couple of stares from various customers, but he couldn’t care less. 

Usually, Na Jaemin was laid back, but because of you, he became this gross, jealous, poor excuse of a man. 

“You didn’t have to be so loud, you know!” You found your voice peaking at the end of your sentence, probably gathering more attention than what you were currently lecturing Jaemin for. A blush stained the circles of your cheeks, though you were never quite sure whether it was the embarrassment of being the center of attention, or the fact that Na Jaemin came rushed and disheveled, looking for you. You cleared your throat to hide your obscene thoughts一a practice you’ve been getting the hang of, lately. “What did you need from me anyway-”

“Why were you with him.” Jaemin cut in. Although, with his stone cold frame now towering over you, his eyes; unassuming and distant, and shallow, hitched breaths, you weren’t even certain this was the same roommate you couldn’t get out of your head for the past week. You simply wave your hand away. 

“We just happened to meet up by accident, and we got to talk some stuff out, that's all.” You prayed that your calm voice could soothe the currently tempered man before you. Of course, however, it didn’t. 

“Was it really?”

“Yes! Okay, Jaem? What’s with you today?”

“Don’t visit him anymore.” His voice boomed towards the end of his sentences, startling even the finest of nature as two innocent birds fly away in fear. 

Something didn’t click, didn’t sit right in your head. Since when was he so demanding? So rude? You found yourself slowly backing away from his figure, an action you thought you’d have to do in your life. Before, he was always a safe space for you, even without your confusing feelings for him. He was always there for you. But now, the air around turned gray, and you were scared more than anything. You scoff, throwing Jaemin off. 

“Are you telling me what to do?” 

“I’m only worried for you, y/n.”

“Worried about what, exactly? That I’d get back with Renjun?” You stand firm before him. Y/n, what the hell are you doing now. To your own dismay, you continue. “Why would you care about that anyways?”

“Am I not allowed to care about you!?” He practically hollered at the top of his lungs. A fire welled up inside you, with no way of fanning it down. Who does this guy think he is?  

“Last time I checked, we didn’t have anything real! Everything between us was all a damn lie! So no, maybe you don’t!” 

You lay one final blow straight to Jaemin’s chest, knocking him down like a line of concurred dominoes. Your heart clenches in a cruel response. You were right, factually correct, but the truth always came with a price. Spectators began to crowd around the scene, as a fuming Jaemin stalks towards you, closing the distance between your shoulder blades and brick wall behind you. 

“WELL MAYBE I WANTED SOMETHING REAL!” Jaemin retorted, eyes holding a flame you never thought your calm roommate could ignite within him. The air around you grew cautious, the only things sounding off were the weary engines driving past the scene of the crime. His breath grew shallow as it brushed against your skin, your trembling figure watching as he let out an aggravated sigh. His fingers, laced in irritation, comb through his hair as he softens his voice into one final whisper. 

“But you don’t want anything like that, right? ‘Cause you’re still caught up with that Renjun asshole?” 

“Jae-”

“Forget it” Jaemin spits, his eyes finally dodging yours. He backs away from your trembling figure, his hands buried in his pockets as he quickened his pace away from you. Jaemin hissed under his breath, everything finally clearing up in his head. You didn’t want him, You were never ready to move on. It’s official, Na Jaemin couldn’t have you, and he never will.  

...

Your brain always had a knack for remembering things, keeping random nuggets of knowledge stored deep within random crevices of your head. Your brain always had a good memory, and today was no exception. 

Forget it.

You could probably liven up a lifeless desert with your endless tears that stained Hina’s pillows that night. It would be life or death to retire properly to your own home, not with the atrocity that was this afternoon still thriving in your wake. One more bottled emotion, and your body would simply burst out of existence. You could only properly pinpoint three of them; exhaustion welling up in your feet, confusion tearing through your brain, and guilt overflowing in your heart. 

“What am I gonna do?” you weep through the flesh of Hina’s teddy bear. After tossing the empty pop can into her makeshift trash can, Hina plopped onto her bed beside you, drilling a finger straight into her temple. “You need to tell him how you feel, y/n, you can’t just leave him in the dark like that. That’s probably why he got so riled up.”

Your eyes shake as they stay on the ground. Hina shuffles around arms crossing in a full interrogation. “You do know what you want, right?”

Slowly, and without much thought pulling at your strings, you slowly nod. “Well then, what is it?” 

An image of your roommate shines into your head once again. The kind roommate you had the great luxury of coming home to, the one always saving you a slice of frozen pizza for when you arrive, the one who reaches the irritating dishes at the top of the cupboard, the one you couldn't get out of your mind. His heartwarming demeanour, his charming smile, his everything. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. With a twinge of determination, you lock eyes with Hina.

“I want it all to be real. I wanna be with Jaemin.”

Hina rested her back onto the plump mattress, a smug grin lining her lips as she crossed her arms in pride. “So you’re finally gonna start listening to me, hm?”

...

“Are you sure about this, Jaem?” Yangyang has never一in Jaemin’s two years of knowing him一sounded so concerned for his friend’s wellbeing. It sent shivers down his spine, how pitiful Jaemin must’ve looked right now. His fingers grasped the horrendous stack of papers; one wrong move could easily decorate the floor with the homework, and Jaemin was...concerned, to say the least.

“Why are we even doing this? You won the bet!” Donghyuck hugged his own stack close to his chest as the three boys watched Jaemin’s head sink low to the floor, and watched his heart sink even lower. “Yeah, about that...”

Even if the truth hurts, it needs to be said, right?

“...Y/n wasn’t my date at the restaurant. I never asked anyone out, actually. The truth is… she’s my roommate. I only asked her out on a fake date so I could keep the bet going.”

Jaemin felt the confused, yet somber stares of Jeno burn through his skin. It only made sense that Jeno had a few questions; Na Jaemin’s beaten up, hunched over figure was nothing like the lovestruck, head-over-heels Jaemin he’d witnessed just a couple of days prior. “But it didn’t work out that well with her, so here I am, ready for the punishment.” 

It struck Jaemin’s chest more times that could count, slashing at his heart, his pride, everything he loved. How could he be so foolish? Convincing himself his simple crush could ever reciprocate his feelings. Could ever love him back. Nevertheless, it was more clear now than ever before. To you, he would always just have one label; a simple roommate. 

“Jaemin-” Donghyuck reluctantly brushed his palm on Jaemin’s shoulder, his best excuse for a peace offering. Jaemin, however, finally snapped, shooting a glare through the eyes of his rather persistent friends. 

“What? You were right, okay? I can’t get any girl I want. I really am just a coward, so I deserve this!” Jaemin slumped his figure一drenched in a sorrow he’s gotten quite familiar with, as of late一into a cheap, cafeteria chair, his heart leaping through his throat. 

“She was the only one I wanted, anyway, so what’s the point?” 

“I think you got a few things wrong there, buddy.” A familiar voice rang through Jaemin’s ears. The whites of his eyes spilled out of their sockets as Jaemin shot up. You couldn’t blame him, though. The last thing he expected to see was his childhood classmate, Huang Renjun, before him. “You still have a chance with y/n, Jaemin.”

Jaemin sent a rough hiss at Renjun before slowly backing down at Renjun’s unnaturally calm demeanour. “What?”

“I’m not after her anymore, nor is she after me.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Then why-”

“It was an accident, we didn’t mean to meet up like that. And that talk at the cafe? It was all for closure. It was something she and I both needed, a lot, if I might add.” 

“So… you weren’t trying to get her back?”

Renjun squinted at the utter dumbassary currently blinding him at the moment. “No, are you stupid? I have a girlfriend. And besides, when she first saw you barge into the cafe, her flustered reaction tells me she feels the same way, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” 

Heat rushed over to Jaemin’s cheeks, the cause being a 50-50 blend of pure embarrassment一from letting his jealous heart take over his mind一and the simple, but beautiful thought of you. Everything started to fall back in their rightful places. His head was finally cleared, his anger had finally wisped away. And more importantly, you were moment’s away from being his. Moments away from retiring the ‘roommate’ label. 

Donghyuck leaped from his seat. A directing hand pointed towards the dance department wing as Donghyuck shifted into his ‘fight or flight’ stance, riling up with energy. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CONFESS!!”  

Without any further hesitation, Jaemin shot from his seat, his eyes etched with determination, and his heart moments away from bursting through his chest. Donghyuck let out a defeated sigh, arms crossing in disappointment. “God, I can’t believe the campus playboy is such a wuss!” 

...

Your easily distracted mind had made it maddeningly clear; no song, no matter what the tempo or melody, could take your mind off of your one and only roommate, Na Jaemin. It also didn’t matter that you spent a whopping one night without his bedroom just across the hall from yours; as your heart was still drenched in the guilt you couldn’t seem to get rid of. However, one thing was made clear that night. Your heart purely and utterly belonged to Na Jaemin alone. Only one thing stayed in your way; he may more may not hate your guts now. 

Your palms dripped in a cold sweat as your limbs begrudgingly swam in the air. It was bad enough your dance instructor gave not one, but two lectures about getting distracted to blow your ears dry, but even after that public display of embarrassment, your head couldn’t stop recounting the different ways you could finally tell Na Jaemin the truth; the whole truth. 

I want the real thing with you

I don’t just want something fake, Jaemin

I wanna be with you

That last statement threw your cheeks into a heated, rosy frenzy. You cup your hands attempting to hide your horrid thoughts as your dance instructor, with a few deadpan words, sets your class free for the evening. You scurry to the corner, peacefully shoving your things into your bag when Shotaro’s voice suddenly rings behind your ear. 

“Y/n? Oh yeah, she’s right over there.” 

“Great, thanks.” 

  You freeze on the spot. You could recognize that voice from a mile away. It was almost concerning on your part. 

“Y/n!” The voice yelps, in a tone you hadn’t heard in a while. You smile under your breath. You missed his cheerful voice. You slowly prop up, dropping your bag to the depths of the dance room floor. You pivot on your heel, your chest coming face to face with none other than Na Jaemin, in the flesh. “I need to tell you something.” 

After scrambling out of the dance room, certainly not attracting the attention of any unwanted instructors, the two of you hide behind the studio entrance. Jaemin stood just centimeters before you, his breath shivering despite the warmer weather. Although, and you wouldn’t be surprised, but this warm sensation could simply be deriving from your cheeks, which was nothing new. 

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you yesterday, I never wanted to be mean to you or anything, I was just… heated, yeah.” Jaemin finally began, scratching the nape of his neck. You didn’t like the fact that he was the one apologizing to you, when you knew it should’ve been the other way around. “You don’t need to say sorry, Jaem. I lashed out too and-”

“I was being all selfish, when I really should’ve been thinking clearly. I-I was jealous when I saw you two together, and I couldn’t take it.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. Jealous? He was jealous?

“Truth is… I’ve liked you for some time now, probably ever since we first met. And while the fake date was really fake…” His eyes finally lock yours up, keeping them hostage in his determined glare. “...I really wanted something real between us.” 

Jaemin’s hand reached down, cupping your nimble fingers in it as he kept his eye contact tight. His breath hitched as he eyed you, all flustered and adorable with your eyebrows furrowed in a hopeful confusion. Everything about you made him want to cradle you in his arms, never letting go, forever. 

“Can I be more than just your roommate, y/n?” 

You stayed frozen, mouth gaping wide open at every confession he threw at you. You stayed so still, the only thing visibly moving on your body was the rapid blush zooming through your ears and cheeks, except this time, you didn’t feel the sudden urge to hide such a sensation. Your mind didn’t carry the necessary brian capacity properly function, so naturally, your arms did the job for you. 

Your palms cupped the edges of Jaemin’s jaw, a sudden confidence surging through you as you pulled him closer. The tips of your noses collide moments before the surfaces of your lips. You melt into a passion filled kiss, a kiss that’s been pending since the day you first moved in together. Jaemin hugs the small of your waist as you hug his neck. Instinctively, your stomach tucks itself, hiding the embarrassing butterflies fluttering within it. You felt like a celebrity, kissing the campus’ pretty boy; Na Jaemin. Your eyes flicker open. 

“Of course you can.”

Your’s and Jaemin’s world crashes back into reality at the sound of a pestering holler, one which Jaemin could only sigh in grief to in response. You turn around only to find a snooping crowd right behind you. Shotaro, joined with two of Jaemin’s friends you first met at the restaurant; Yangyang and Donghyuck, jump for joy at the sight of you two, while a distressed Hina rips her hair out at the fact that she missed the most world shattering confession scene known to man. Jeno, to the right of her, calms her down in a heartbeat. Those two were really perfect for each other. You turn back to Jaemin, a wide grin now taking over his face. He tightens the grip around your hand, a hand that you noticed he’s never let go since he first arrived at your department. 

“Do you have another class after this?” “No, why?”

A sly smirk lines his lips as he raises an eyebrow. “Then, shall we go home, darling?” 

Gosh, he was such a dork. “Of course.” 

…

The long awaited kiss between Hina and Jeno was much more dramatic than any first kiss you could’ve imagined. In fact, it was practically ripped right out the current episode of the drama you and Jaemin had settled down to watch. The air was filled with cheerful hollers roaring from Yangyang and Shotaro and the pathetic wails of Donghyuck realizing that一with Shotaro’s crush on the new girl on campus and the random girl Yangyang met online一he would be the last one standing in the terribly single committeeTM. Jaemin grumbled beside you, his head tucked under your chin as you sat cradled in his arms

“Jeez, Jeno’s stealing my thunder!”

“Let them live, Jaem. They’re in love.” 

Jaemin huffed with over exaggeration. “I can’t believe Jeno would betray me like that!”

You pulled Jaemin’s chin up, his face now inches from yours. “Why don’t you forget about them, alright? Just focus on me instead.”

The two of you lean into a kiss, basking in the afternoon sunlight that was peeking through the campus roof. It didn’t matter who was around you anymore, whether they were random strangers or your annoying yet close knit friends. You had already won at life, being the girlfriend of the infamous Na Jaemin; your very special roommate.

[that-sw-writer]

Damsel in Distress

Summary: When the Supreme Leader is in a sticky situation, it’s only right that you go and rescue him... and then hold it over his head for the rest of his life.

Word count: 1694

Warnings: subversive gender roles for days, reader definitely gives off top energy, suggestive tones, violence & ruthless killing

Notes: basically I was in the mood for fucking around with this trope so I did, enjoy some gender role reversal 

Damsel in Distress

"I don't answer to you, I answer to our Supreme Leader."  You were sat down in amongst Kylo Ren's Supreme Council, your posture reflecting your mood.

You were leaning back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, whilst everyone else sat upright, glaring at you.

"When the Supreme Leader isn't here, you answer to me."  Allegiant General Pryde snapped, and you just rolled your eyes,

"Don't speak as though he's not here by choice, he's being held hostage and you're doing nothing about it."  You raised an eyebrow, expecting someone to say something useful.

"Very well Commander, what would you have us do about it?  The kidnappers made it very clear that they will kill the Supreme Leader if we attempt to pursue him."  It was obvious to you that Pryde was delaying rescuing Ren because he saw this as an opportunity to make a grab for power.

"I would send a covert team to rescue him.  A team that could get in without raising any alarms."  You shrugged nonchalantly, as if that were an easy task.

"And I assume you would be on this team."  He snorted.  Pryde never had much faith in the Force, he couldn't accept that her alone would be more powerful than an entire garrison of Storm Troopers.

"Leading it, as a matter of fact.  I'll take the Knights of Ren."

You wouldn't say you necessarily liked Kylo Ren... well, it was complicated.  Generally you fell somewhere between wanting to kiss him, and wanting to punch him square in the face.  In fact, you had done both of those things multiple times.  Your relationship with him was complex, both of you were powerful in the Force, and you didn't want to get mixed up with feelings and romance, but equally there was a raw chemistry between you both - you couldn't really stop yourself from flirting with him.  But that didn't make him and his 'Supreme Leader' attitude any less annoying, sometimes you just had to take him down a few pegs.

"Don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement on this one, Commander."  Pryde sneered, and you immediately rose to your feet, preparing to pursue Kylo with or without their permission.

"Personal feelings?  You mistake me Allegiant General, if I rescue Kylo Ren from imminent death, he'll never hear the end of it."  With a cocky smirk on your lips, you left the room, setting out to find the Knights and recruit them.

It was a slight stretch of the truth, but you were willing to continue ignoring the pang of fear you felt when you thought about the possibility of Ren not making it.  All the times you had stolen heated kisses from him during training sessions, or snuck out of his quarters early into the morning shift, or even relentlessly flirted with him at any given moment just to tease him... is it possible that there were feelings other than sexual attraction there?

No, surely not.  You expelled the thought from your mind as quickly as it had entered.

When you found the Knights, they were more than willing to come along with you and find their Master.  They were just as fed up as you were with waiting for the council to do something useful - you all wanted to take matters into your own hands.

"Commander Y/L/N, you were not given permission to leave this base."  Pryde's snarl rung out over the comm aboard the Knights' transport as you attempted to take off.

"Table that discussion for when I'm back with the Supreme Leader."  You quipped back, shutting off the communications device.

According to the Supreme Council's intel, Kylo's ship had been intercepted by pirates whilst he was flying nearby the Mandalore system.  It must have been a planned attack, else they would never have managed to not only kill Ren's entire squadron of troopers, but take him hostage in the process.

The First Order had received no proof of him being alive, just a ridiculously large ransom of credits and weaponry.  In turn, this would buy the release of the Supreme Leader, as well as the silence of the pirates - if the galaxy knew that Kylo Ren had been taken hostage it could be detrimental to the war effort.  

They were on Mandalore, the pirates hadn't attempted to conceal their location because they knew they had the upper hand.  Little did they know what was coming for them.

The Knights landed the transport just outside the range of the pirates' transmission, and they all turned to you for orders.  You were used to Kylo being the one in charge, but now here you were being in charge of saving his ass.

"Jam communications, then we can split up, go in under the radar, take out anyone we see before they can raise the alarm.  Whoever finds Ren first comms the others, and we blow this place to hell."  You outlined it very simply, and the Knights all nodded, hurrying to work.

With communications jammed, the pirates had no technological way of seeing you coming.  You had the element of surprise, and that was all you needed... hopefully.

You branched off from the Knights and began to manoeuvre silently through the building.  Mandalore was a harsh environment, but you weren't going to let the terrain stop you from getting to Kylo.

The building seemed largely abandoned, but you soon heard footsteps approaching you from around a corner.  You stayed where you were with your back pressed to the wall, waiting for the assailant to come into your eye-line.

When the pirate did round the corner, you grabbed him harshly by the neck and pinned him to the wall, your Lightsaber immediately being drawn and held next to his neck.  The red glow illuminated the helmet he wore - you couldn't tell what species he was.

"The Supreme Leader, tell me where he is."  You demanded in a hushed tone.

"I will tell you nothing."  His voice was nasally, and surprisingly high pitched.  He spoke as if basic weren't his first language.

"It's only a matter of time before I find him, so you can either tell me where to go and survive another day, or I can kill you right now and find him myself."  You challenged the pirate, knowing that your ultimatum was fool proof.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the pirate quickly conceded, "down this hall and to the left, just please let me live."

"No."  You replied, a sly smirk on your lips.

"But you said-" he immediately began to struggle.

"I know what I said-" you interrupted yourself by thrusting your Lightsaber right through his chest, "-but you'd be crazy to think the Supreme Leader would let you live."  You taunted as the limp body of the pirate hit the ground.

Retracting your Saber, you rushed to where you now knew Kylo to be, and when the blast doors that stood between you and him flew open, you were greeted by three masked pirates in the room.  Kylo was strung up in the centre, arms secured above his head in Force-suppression cuffs.  He looked a mess, splatters of dried blood on his face, tears in his tunic, but equally you had seen him look a lot worse - he had only been their hostage for just under one planetary rotation.

Springing into action, your Saber was once again drawn and you cut down all three pirates at such a speed, they could barely acknowledge your presence.

Now with you and Kylo being the only two living beings in the room, you moved to stand in front of him, a smug look on your face as you looked up at him.

"What took you so long?"  He bitterly grumbled, clearly losing his voice from lack of hydration.

"Your incompetent Supreme Council weren't keen on me coming.  They still aren't."  You shrugged, twirling your Saber in your hand painstakingly slowly.

"Well what are you waiting for?  Get me down."  He snapped, clearly exasperated from the day he'd had, and your smug attitude wasn't helping... but you were just enjoying basking in the glory of saving his life.

"Is it wrong that you look quite hot strung up like that?"  You teased him, slowly running a hand down his chest.

"Yes."  He snarled, "this isn't the time."

"Very well."  You heaved a sigh, stepping back to swing your Saber straight through the cuffs which were suspending him, "you're such a spoil sport."  You continued to flirt with him, despite the fact he was dropping to the ground.

He was strong enough to hold his own weight and pull himself to his feet, and he immediately did so.  Evidently the pirates hadn't done him much damage beyond the cosmetic injuries.  In the meantime you reattached your Saber hilt to your belt and comm'd the Knights to tell them to meet you back at the transport.

Once Kylo had found his own Lightsaber, he turned to leave, but you blocked his path.  You stood with your arms folded, an expectant look on your face.

"What now?"  He sighed.

"I just saved your life."  You pointed out, "can I at least get a thank you from my damsel in distress?"

"I am not-"  He jabbed a gloved finger in your face, about to protest his new, admittedly emasculating, nickname, but you interrupted him.

Pushing his finger aside you simply raised an eyebrow, "I'm the only person who's going to live to tell the tale of what I saw in this room Ren, I can be very generous, or very stingy with the details.

He admitted defeat at this, definitely not wanting the full details of this embarrassing hijacking and subsequent kidnapping at the hands of pirates to spread.  "Fine.  Thank you."  He practically spoke through gritted teeth.

"That'll do, for now at least."  Just before stepping aside, you leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, clearly teasing him, "you can thank me properly later."

For the first time he didn't grunt or snap in response, he just looked at you with a mischievous smirk, before following you out of the room.

"Maybe you'll get tied up twice in one day."  You briefly turned around on your way back to the transport, shooting him a suggestive wink.

"Don't push your luck."  His expression contradicted his words, because he didn't seem able to wipe the smirk off his face.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 15 (Final)

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story. 

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Lying upon the cart, you wished to be dead. It was ironic that in the beginning, this very cart had transported you into this world as Jinyoung’s treasure. Now, he laid beside you, unmoving. Fresh tears soaked through his shirt, your head strewn across his chest, hoping for a glimpse of his heartbeat.

Tired eyes lingered at the body next to him and you reached out for Jackson, shaking as the wound continued to stain through any bandaging Jaebum had done. You wondered if Jackson’s body would ever dry up.

Jinyoung’s only seemed to maintain what blood he had due to the sword still embedded in him.

The remaining fight had ended once Argo was dead, his men looking between each other for guidance.

“Should we kill who remains?”

“Let’s say they’re all dead, they might as well be,” another decided, backing off and holding his hands up in surrender. They soon departed the battle site, leaving behind their fallen leader and men, and you to mourn your losses.

“Don’t remove the sword from him,” Jaebum said in all but a whisper, cutting Argo’s limb away and freeing him from the hunter.

You had been numb to the whole procedure, unable to help the three men pick up what you still had, merely stumbling along with Jinyoung’s body as they carried it to the cart now attached to Jinyoung’s horse. You had silently climbed up then, curling up beside Jinyoung and had laid there ever since.

You wished for something or someone to rid you of the excruciating pain that burdened your heart and mind. Flashes of your life shared with Jinyoung played out one by one, tormenting you further.

You already longed to see him smile again.

Eventually, you grew aware that you were no longer on land. The sea breeze was brisk and the waves choppy. You ignored all offers from the others to eat, and you lost count of how many times the sun rose and set.

You pleaded for an emptiness to overwhelm you instead of the constant memories, the ghost of Jinyoung’s lips upon your skin.

It was bittersweet when the cart finally stopped moving. You had no energy to get yourself down, Mark scooping you up and carrying you inside a small cabin.

You hated how much you relished the comfort of a bed, and the warmth of a blanket, soon drifting off into a dreamless state.

“It’s time to get up now,” Youngjae called when he finally found you awake, offering you food.

“I don’t want to eat.”

“Tough, I will force you if I have to,” he retorted, coming over to your side and holding up the spoon to some porridge. You glared at him yet he only shot one back. “How dare you not eat!”

You merely stared back at him.

“That’s what he would say, you know. He would scold you for being foolish.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you lowered your head. “He’s not here.”

“How do you know that? He’s always been in here,” Youngjae mentioned, reaching to touch your chest softly. “Can’t you hear him in your head telling you to get up and live on?”

“I’ve lived on without him once. I don’t want to do it again.”

“Have we held a funeral? No, now start eating or we’ll have to but for you!”

Glowering at Youngjae, you took the spoon from his grip and swallowed down a mouthful.

Your friend eased his stern expression. “There, that’s what you need to do.”

Days after awakening, you were pulling yourself up with the sun, helping Youngjae plant a vegetable garden and setting up your new home. You had no idea how you had acquired such a place but you were certain Jinyoung would have loved it here with you. It was a small farmstead, with two simple cabins. So far, you and Youngjae shared the one you had woken up in, whilst Mark and Jaebum set up in the other.

With Jackson and Jinyoung.

You hadn’t been brave enough to enter the place yet, unsure if you would be able to handle seeing his listless body again. You couldn’t seem to will yourself into death, no matter how much you had tried to. You missed Jinyoung and still cried yourself to sleep every night. Yet, you regained your strength, healing from your injuries well and soon felt back to usual self physically.

You wondered just how selfish a human could truly be to continue to survive in this world without the one person who you wanted to do everything with. You felt a coward, to still be breathing in the air that Jinyoung and Jackson should be doing as well. It bothered you when you stopped to think about it, which with your returning energy, you tried not to allow to happen often.

There was a lot to be done around the farm. Mark helped where he could, but it was Youngjae who you saw the most of each day.

Still, despite living, eating, and doing chores, you weren’t in connection with the world anymore. You hardly spoke, never smiled, and tried your best not to look too much at your remaining friends.

Each time your gaze lingered on their faces was enough to bring back the pain again, causing the air to be knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe through.

“She’s having another panic attack!” Youngjae shrilled as you bent down in the garden bed, gripping at your chest with one hand and planting yourself in the soil with the other. You felt the wind brush passed you as Jaebum arrived at your side, trying to help you breathe properly again.

It was in these moments where you would see Jinyoung instead, his dark eyes etched with concern as his words of comfort fell into your hair, willing you to breathe for him again. You would watch him painfully, knowing he wasn’t there and yet your hopes would rise, all the same, your breathing returning. And then when you blinked after your ordeal, Jinyoung was no longer there, Jaebum sighing in relief that you were recovered instead.

He said it was part of the trauma you had faced with what happened that day. You wondered if that was why you started to see Jinyoung more often as well. Much as you had when living with your Grandmother, you started to talk to him as you did your chores, fond of the image of him helping you wash the vegetables you had fetched with Youngjae from the nearby village, or hanging out the washing and peeking around the corners at one another.

Even though you knew it was detrimental, you welcomed the visions.

Still, it was deep in the night where you realised just how alone you were. No image of Jinyoung could substitute the warmth of his arms that were lacking within this bed. You despised the night now, the moon and all the stars in the sky. They had lost their beauty the same time you lost the man who whispered sweet nothings upon them.

You willed for the sun to arrive quickly.

“Y/N, are you going to come in for breakfast?”

“I’m going to hang out the washing first!” you called back to a grinning Youngjae, the man looking at the cabin and then back at you.

You paid him no mind, picking up your laundered items to hang up and make the most of the drying sun. Reaching for a blanket, you struggled to hoist it over the line.

“Here, let me help you.”

“Jinyoung, don’t be silly, you’ve never hung out a single thing in your life.”

“There’s always time to learn, don’t you think?”

You smiled sadly. “It would have been nice to see you do laundry.”

“Let me try now.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” you replied, blinking back your tears. You stretched up on the tips of your toes and hoisted it over the line, cursing Mark for having hung this section of the washing line too high for you to easily reach. Once the blanket fell over the line, you let out a triumphant huff of air and then spun to grab the next, losing your footing and ending up in the arms of a man you hadn’t seen in weeks.

Jinyoung smiled. “Always falling for me. It’s a bad habit of yours. How would you be able to cope in this world without me catching you each time?”

You merely blinked, trying to decipher if you had truly gone mad. His grip felt too real around your waist and there as an unmistakable level of warmth that had never once come from your hallucinations.

Shakily, you reached up for his face, gasping when you connected with his cheek. “You’re alive.”

“Well, I sure hope so. How could I leave this world whilst you’re still alive in it?”

“But you … you…”

“Later,” he murmured, his lips curling up into a delighted smile. “We can talk later. Right now, there’s something I need from you.”

“What is-”

You knew he was truly back when his lips pressed into yours, caressing you right down to your soul.

“You all tricked me!” you exclaimed later over dinner, even glaring at the pale Jackson who merely shook his head at you.

“Now don’t go adding me in this, I think I really died.”

“Then how are you sitting at this table with us? Are you a ghost?!” Jaebum huffed, looking at his hands and then held them up at him. “I worked tirelessly on you both! Don’t underestimate my efforts to bring you back from the brink of death, brother!”

Mark chuckled as he pulled off a piece of the fresh loaf of bread you had made. “In all fairness, we did try to tell you, Y/N. You just didn’t want to hear anything about either of them.”

“She’s someone who needs to see things with her own eyes to believe in them,” Jinyoung mentioned, chewing on his food before grinning at you. “It was more effective that she found me alive than you telling her I was recovering when you didn’t know how long that would have taken.”

“I’m right here, you know,” you grumbled and Jinyoung nodded.

“And she’s really impatient so Jaebum would have gone insane with her hanging over his shoulder looking for new signs of life.”

“Enough!” you exclaimed, slapping your hands down on the table. Looking at each man to see if they dared to talk, you then nodded. “Let me get this straight. You discussed a plan like this?”

“It wasn’t one we wanted to take but if anyone got gravely injured we needed to put them into another world to heal.”

“You all acted like they were dead to me!”

Jaebum nodded. “They were close to it. But I gave them both a tonic to keep them going until we got here so I could start the treatment properly. You weren’t functioning no matter how often we tried to bring you back to the present so you didn’t realise I had purposely slowed down their breathing.”

“I was mourning the loss of the love of my life.” You turned to glare at the evidently healthy man beside you. Jinyoung sheepishly shrugged at you. “Clearly, I wasted a lot of emotions on you.”

“I’m touched, really.”

“Did you cry for me?” Jackson wondered as you rolled your eyes, now looking at everyone around the table. “Anyone?”

“I did, don’t worry,” Youngjae offered hastily, which made the men all laugh.

“I’m still ridiculously confused!” you announced and stood up, storming off outside.

Jinyoung joined you a moment later, reaching for your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Glancing at the wounded arm that was strapped to his body in a sling, you grunted. “Will you be lame in that arm forever?”

“You did a good job with that sword, I doubt I’ll ever be able to fully regain strength to it.”

Your annoyance eased and you spun to look up at Jinyoung worriedly. “Really?”

“I’m grateful to have been blessed with a spare,” he mentioned cheekily, holding up his other arm. You hit it as he laughed heartily and you stopped to smile, listening to the bright sound. It was the first time he had truly laughed with so much ease.

“You’re different.”

“I feel like I’m the same.”

“No, you’ve never been like this,” you told him, stepping to his side and gazing up at him adoringly. “You’ve always been looking for the invisible threat. You’re relaxed right now.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Jinyoung beckoned you closer. “Jaebum gave me a very strong pain relief this morning. It’s still working its way through me.”

“You’re being very playful, so it’s not just the medicine. You’re not the same Jinyoung I’ve ever known.”

“I played with you when we were children!”

“Well, yes, but I mean even then you carried a hardness in your eyes. You never showed your emotions easily. All day long you’ve been laughing, smiling, and sharing everything with those handsome eyes of yours.”

“Do you not like it?”

“No, I love it.”

“Good.” Jinyoung kissed the side of your head. “Because I don’t have to hide anymore. No one is looking for me.”

“You’re free.”

Jinyoung nodded happily. “We all are.”

You finally got your wish. Every day, you woke up in the warmth of Jinyoung’s arms, soft kisses starting the morning before going off to prepare breakfast together for everyone. After that, you did chores on the farm, now raising your own animals to further live off the land. You were also building a third cabin since word had reached you that BamBam and Yugyeom were alive and were on their way to join you all.

Each day was full of activity, though you didn’t mind working hard. There was constant laughter and the youth you had all been robbed of from the Rebellion returned through playful water fights and endless teasing. And when you found yourself growing tired from being the only woman on the farmstead, you would go into town to spend time with your friends you had made there. In turn, they visited your home, though you were certain it wasn’t just to see you.

You hadn’t realised just how charming the men you lived with were until you watched them in action.

Looking at Jaebum sweet-talking a cat he had found hungry in the neighbouring fields instead of talking to Bethie who was interested in him, however, showed you that some of them had a long way to go before they could fully be free from the shackles of their upbringing.

But each day brought them one step closer.

Falling onto your bed exhaustively later that evening, you groaned when Jinyoung climbed in beside you and gestured for you to move. “I’m too tired.”

“You need to get under the blankets, it’s the middle of winter.”

“You know that being pregnant makes me feel hotter than normal.”

“Still,” he said with a warning tone and you sighed, picking yourself up only to pull back the blankets.

By the time you were about to slip back into bed, Jinyoung had extended his arm out for you and was waiting. You smiled, though took your time gently nestling into his side.

Not for your sake, but for his.

“You always offer me up this arm to rest upon.”

“Well, considering we go to sleep on the same sides of the bed each night, how am I meant to give you the other?”

“I’ve offered to swap but you never accept,” you pointed out, glancing up at him. “Why?”

“You freed me with this arm,” Jinyoung mentioned, shifting his head so he could kiss your temples. You closed your eyes with sheer delight that tingled throughout you from his soft gesture. “You see it as something awful.”

“I would never wish to harm you.”

“I see it as you setting me free from the Rebellion. Having you lay upon it is my way of showing how grateful I am.”

“But it hurts you.”

“A small price to pay to still be here at your side,” he reminded and you nodded, lifting your head to kiss him.

“You followed me here to Nowhere.”

He grinned. “There’s no better place than to be nowhere with you.”

“We have quite the adventure to tell this child that I’m growing,” you said, rubbing at your slightly protruding belly. “What should we keep to ourselves?”

“How about we skip the ten years we were apart for.”

“Why? That’s the best bit!”

Jinyoung balked a little. “How is that the best part of our story?! The best was obviously when I kidnapped you.”

“And I hated you.”

“You could never hate me.”

“I hated you until I saw your face,” you corrected with a giggle and Jinyoung shook his head.

“We really have been through a lot. Maybe we need to think about how we share this tale with our offspring in the future.”

“I’ll write a book!”

“If you do that then it will be greatly exaggerated.”

“Says the man who wrote an entire love letter about comparing me to the moon and stars.”

Kissing you to silence your teasing remarks, you soon fell into a heady embrace, parting when you were certain your soul was about to burst out of your body and jump into his. You smiled and Jinyoung kissed you briefly before nodding. “However we tell it, let’s make sure we do it together.”

“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Anywhere might be nicer than nowhere,” he offered but before you could respond, Jinyoung was sizing up your lips again. “No matter where you go, I’ll follow you.”

“Of course, you’re mine.”

“Mm,” he hummed, a satisfied smile tugging his plump lips up. “I’m yours.”

_________________

Thank you for enjoying this series. There may be an Epilogue shared at a later date in 2020. 

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

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[kat-hawke]

Round 2

Stress and tension swelled as reports of Grimm began to dwindle, and the newfound funding opened more doors, which in turn brought their hurdles. Against Thea's wishes, the Director cut her day short and retired to the lower levels of the tram for the afternoon.

The scent of blood mixed with liquor and drugs in the brawl pub air, a calming and dangerous combination for the beast shackled within. Abstaining from the ring herself, Kat perched from a rented room above, trading the official attire for leathers and pulling the hair in tight braids to complete the façade of "Darah" that so many became accustomed to. 

The fight below offered moderate entertainment but ended too soon for her enjoyment. At the far edge of the pub, the glimpse of a familiar elf caught her eye, heading for the stairs to the upper level. Nostrils flared with a heated breath as she retreated to the crescent-shaped sofa with a drink in hand. The Ren'dorei stood her up in the original agreement, but now she returns. She signaled for the bouncer to allow entry just as the elven woman approached with a motion of one hand.

Serelia brushed past the massive bouncer, strutting into the room without cleaning from her last fight. Unceremoniously, she dropped a hefty leather-bound tome onto the coffee table beside Kat's feet. The covers dyed black as midnight, a large embossed 'H' the only image upon the face.

"So far, this seems to be useless to my situation. Not that I needed much more confirmation that my former employers were all bluster and no impact. I see you survived the Scourge incursion Darah?" A flicker of a smile touched the elf's lips, "rumors that you're hard to kill remain true."

"Ya' canno' kill that which does no' truly live," Kat scoffed before casting her gaze over the tome.

Her lips twisted in disgust at the embossed emblem, letting the hum of dissatisfaction roll in her throat before silencing it with a sip of whiskey.

"Yer former employers were always fluffers- show ponies. Like rotted apples painted red. Look real good from th' outside but real shite beneath the outer layer." She sucked her teeth in spite. "Wot do ya' expect when ya' ask a child playin' with mommy's toys t'perform a job fit for an experienced adult?"

Serelia drops onto the other part of the curved section of the couch, and her empty eyes turned towards Kat. "That all measures up. I thought I'd seen all the bluster nobility could muster in Silvermoon, but at least they backed it with power. Human nobility is an oxymoron the way it's used here." She puts feet up, crossing ankles on top of the book, hands folding in her lap. 

"Nobility," Kat mocked, "please. At best, these want-to-be imbeciles are glorified harems, no'-so-secret adultery, and the pompous new-bloods thinkin' they can demand respect. They wouldn' know noble if it bit 'em on the ass." 

"Needless to say," Serelia continues, "my other possible source didn't lead anywhere useful, and so once more I am before you, where I should've stayed from the start."

"Sometimes we have t'learn th' hard way that we were right the first time, luv'." Kat's statement comes with a sly grin, her arms stretching across the back of the cushion as she studied the adjacent elf. "Should have listened, could have saved yer self some precious time. Who knows how much more rooted or detrimental things 'ave become in that poor judgmen'."

"I hadn't planned for a scourge invasion to disrupt our schedule. The Void does seem to take at an increasing rate," the elf grunted, shuttering her gaze for a moment. "I'm ready to bargain. What cost is your help, and where do we start?"

Glancing out over the fight pit, Kat chuckled, amused at the situation. She felt less inclined to offer her assistance now.

"Remind me again wot it is I am to assist ya' with?" Masking the sarcasm, Kat toyed with the elf.

Serelia's expression doesn't betray her feelings on being asked that again. 

"My eyes were damaged by a Warlock's Felfire. The Void overtook my vision to...repair them. I now see the world like a storm of chaos, where every possible reality is overlaid atop one another. I wear glasses," a hand rises to slightly adjust them on her nose, "enchanted to help filter it to some degree, but I can only use it to adjust the things that I gain confidence are true."

Wagging a finger in the woman's direction, Kat clicked her tongue in an uncaring manner. "Ah, right. Right. And ya' don' know wot yer child truly looks like because of it all. Such a shame, really." 

"I do not," Serelia replies, expression and tone darkening a bit at the reminder.

Drawing a deep and sardonic breath, Kat sank into the plush cushion of the couch, shrugging faintly. 

"T'be quite honest, luv', things have changed since our last exchange. My needs and desires are a myriad of ever-shifting webs to suit the current situations of the world. T'bring my goals to fruition, of course." One thumb rand across the fingertips as another hollow hum rang out. 

"Here t'bargain ya' say? And pray tell, wot exactly do ya' have t'bargain with that is of interest t'me?"

"Service," Serelia replies. Exhaling a breath and feet returning to the floor as she sits forward, clasping hands together, elbows resting on the knees. "I am, perhaps not to your degree, but relatively proficient and moving between spaces in the Void. You've already seen me fight several times now." 

She paused to lock eyes with the Director.

"I don't want to work for the crown, but I'll work for you."

Deliberately, Kat yawned and waved a hand at the proposition. Everyone wanted to offer this, and after years of broken promises and missed deadlines, she found that people default to that which is easily untracked or collected upon. Her patience with the meeting began to wane.

"Did the bouncer let in the rabble again? I thought I was in th' company of one I granted an audience to." Sarcasm hung from every word, unimpressed by the offer. 

"Same offer I hear time 'n time again, luv'. 'bout fifty-fifty if they make good on th' word, but yer gonna need t'try harder than that. Ya've heard the stories. I can fight m'own battles."

Serelia's lips tighten into a flat line. "I've heard the stories," she agrees, "I'm offering what I have. If it's not enough, it's not enough. Spent my first dozen decades in the military; combat training was my life. I've nothing of monetary value. My skills are the thing I own to give."

Kat's eyes shut, and her head shook slowly. "Blind in more ways than one, I suppose." 

With a quiet breath, she looked to Serelia again. "We'll call it a favor owed, then. Maybe in time, ya'll find somethin' of value."

Serelia, visibly annoyed by the counter off, opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut again. An irritated tone rumbled from behind the pressed lips before she conceded in a simple agreement, "A favor owed then."

"I knew ya'd be smart about it, luv'. Had ya' left and came back a third time, I may no' have been quite as generous. Simple economics; supply and demand." A wicked grin pulled across Kat's lips, the teeth poking through. "Ya' understand."

"Be easier to establish what I could supply if I had any idea what you demand." The elf retorted. "You're right. I'm blind. I come from a rigid structure that likely put me into a set way of thinking. I'm missing corners and other avenues. If you think I've got something you want, then let's hear it, but I don't know what your angle is right now, and games around wants are exhausting to play." 

"If it weren't for my daughter, maybe I would walk instead of play, but if games are what it takes, then that's where we are. So. A favor owed."

"Ya' don't play much poker, do ya'?" Kat muttered.

"There is no game t'play, luv'. Ya' agreed, and that's all I needed. Ya' want control over th'power, and I can give it to ya'. But remember; wot is given can also be taken away."

"It won't be," Serelia replies as if stating a fact. "Regardless, price has been agreed then. When and how do we start?"

"Depends," Kat answered as her fingers drummed upon the cushion. "Do ya' want control or freedom?"

Serelia's lips curved into a crooked smile at that. "What a question..." she hesitates only a moment before completing her answer. "Control."

Kat's head inclined and rolled to the side ever so slightly as she stared curiously at the elf. 

"Too many eyes and ears here. Need somewhere quiet. Secluded. Are ya' familiar with Elwynn?"

"I am," Serelia replies. Her posture eased slightly at the suggestion of resuming this conversation in a more quiet environs.

"Good. Wander in th' woods east of Goldshire after sundown." Kat instructed, keeping her eyes on the elf as the last of her drink was down.

"I'll find you."

"Deal." Serelia agreed with a throaty chuckle, standing to her feet and motioning to the tome. 

"You want to burn this useless book of 'shadowmancy' or whatever they called themselves, or shall I?" 

"I want that book." Alyssa chimed into the conversation before Kat could respond.

Kat ignored the dagger-bound soul, partially annoyed at the interruption and slightly concerned with how much environmental awareness she gained from within the blade.

"Shadowmancy? Fer fucks sake... There ain't no such thing. Buch of fuckin' wanna-be's." The Director spat, rolling her eyes at the tome before waving off the Ren'dorei.

"I'll do more than burn this amateur level bullshit. Trust me."

"Good riddance," Serelia nods as she turned to exit the rented room. "To the whole family."

[ @serelia-evensong​ ]

[kamyru]

Ghosts of the past: Takado x MC (Angst)

Summary: Being a doctor comes with a lot of responsibilities and challenges, because when you’re at work, your first a doctor, than a human. When MC meets a person that she didn’t want to see again, she have to face one of her biggest fears. Even is she gave the Hippocratic Oath, she is still a human.

Trigger warning: Detailed description of leg injury, mention and slight description of sexual harassment

Word counting: 1907

The day was hectic because near the Hospital was an accident - a driver ran over a pedestrian. Hopefully, the pedestrian survived, but he had a very bad leg injury. His limb was nearly flat and the bone was nearly a 3D puzzle that reminded just from afar that in the past it was a whole.

Every normal orthopedic surgeon would have amputated the leg, but Takado decided that it could be saved and in no time he, MC, Ekuni and other nurses were in the operating theater, doing their best to save the patient’s leg and life. MC didn’t have enough time to look at the patient’s face or to find any information about him. They had to act fast and correct, putting aside any feelings they could have.

It took them a lot of times to make a limb out of all the small pieces which formed man’s leg. Of course, it wouldn’t be his first surgery, but the entire team did everything possible to stabilize his state and to save the leg.

After some hours, when they already finished, some of the staff members found the patient’s family members and contacted them. MC, exhausted, had to talk to them. His wife looked somehow familiar, but she couldn’t remember from where she knew her... Until she finally said her name - Sato. It is a pretty common surname in Japan. but this missing piece put everything in place in MC’s mind. She wanted to enter the patient’s room to see if she was right, if he really was the person she thought he was, but she didn’t have enough energy to do it after hours of operating.

When she returned to other doctors, she did everything possible to look as usual, so they won’t be worried. They were tired too and her problems didn’t have anything in common with them. For the time being, she would be alright. She’d think about everything the next day. She still had to make sure that her patient was the person she thought he was, before starting to worry.

“Wanna go home?” asked Takado, bringing her back to reality.

With a soft smile, she nodded. He was her lover, he cared about her. MC didn’t need anything else at this moment, beside him. His presence made her feel protected, loved. Nothing that could remind her of what happened in high school.

“I love you” he whispered, hugging her from behind while laying on his sofa.

“I love you, too,” she was happy. With her beloved near her, having a career she always wanted, working hard to achieve it, saving others’ lives. 

But when she felt Takado’s warm and caring touch, under her clothes, she tensed. He wasn’t her teacher, he didn’t saw in her just an opportunity, but her brain didn’t want to process it. Not knowing what else to do, she just pretended to be asleep. He would understand, the day was really tiring. Not insisting, Takado just picked her up bridal style and put attentively on the bed. Kissing her, he laid beside her.

The next day, MC thought that everything returned to its normal state. But this feeling disappeared when Takado told her to go see the patient. She still hoped that it wasn’t him and that the woman she talked with wasn’t the one she thought.

When she entered his room, the man was asleep. She wanted to verify everything without looking at him. In that case, she could convince herself that it was another man and give her best to be a good doctor. But when he groaned in pain, she couldn’t just avert her eyes.

“Is everything okay?” MC asked with a shaking voice, seeing in front of her the teacher she didn’t want to see ever again.

“What happened?” was everything he could mutter.

She explained to him how he got in the hospital, what they did and that his wife was here, an hour ago and that she can call her. She really hoped that he didn’t recognize her and she was right. At least, he was in too much pain to understand who was sitting in front of him.

When she finished what she had to do and went back to the doctors’ room, the only thing she could think about was how she really felt. She wanted to be a good doctor and to draw a line between her personal life and her work, but in that case it was impossible for her. She felt sorry for him, she didn’t want revenge, but she was afraid, so afraid that everything could happen again, just as in her last year of high school.

She knocked on Kasumi’s door and before he answered, she entered. He just looked at her questioningly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Kasumi nodded.

“What makes a doctor good? Is there a line which a doctor can cross, to the detriment of the patient, and still be a good doctor?”

He frowned. Now the boss was worried. He could tell that something wasn’t alright with MC, but couldn’t tell what exactly, besides the fact that it had to do with her patients.

“What happened?”

“There’s a man... The one from yesterday. I don’t think that I can be his doctor. What can I do?”

“Talk to Takado. He’ll help you, I’m sure...” and before MC left, he whispered “Everything will be alright, MC”.

MC waited till Takado returned, fidgeting. She was paler than paper. When he appeared, she nearly jumped from the chair.

“I don’t think I can continue with the new case we have. Can I give up?” she asked when they finally were alone.

“What is the reason?” he was annoyed from the moment he entered the room, but seeing his girlfriend act cowardly infuriated him.

“I... I can’t... don’t know... I don’t have a reason for this...” she just whispered.

“Then don’t run away! You’re a doctor! You have to save lives! I don’t know what’s up with you. Just put yourself together!” and slammed the door without looking back.

That hit hard. MC wanted to help people. She knew what are doctors supposed to do. But she couldn’t. That moment she was simply a human being, not a doctor. She was afraid, ashamed, confused. Looking at her watch, she understood that she had to check on the patient again.

He was alone and awake. His wife was supposed to appear in two hours, after work. MC checked on his stats and asked him how he felt. Before she could leave, he grabbed her wrist and pushed her on the bed.

“I see you grown up as a beautiful young lady. You always were intelligent. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? I still have dreams about you.”

Saying this, he touched her chin to lift her head, looking directly in her eyes, he leaned. Before he could do what he planned to do, MC slapped his face and run away. She wanted to feel protected, important, loved. And there was only one place she could get this. She hoped that Takado was in the in-call room, but even if he wasn’t, he’ll be there soon. So she would be able to hug him tightly and just feel the warmth of his body.

Entering the doctors’ room, she took the sanitizer from Kasumi’s desk and started to rub her hand and chin. She wanted to get rid of the feeling of that pervert’s touch.

***

When he slammed the door after the conversation with MC, Takado went to ask nurses about another patient. He was angry and wanted to work till get fatigued, so he won’t be able to think about everything that was happening.

Walking on the corridors, he heard two nurses talking: “Do you know that the man who was hospitalized yesterday worked as a teacher and was accused of sexual harassment? My sister was a freshman in high school when a girl said that he touched her repeatedly. But no one believed her. And then, was found out that he had a relationship with another girl, that was in the same class as my sister. He then left that school. And when you think that he is married and has two children... What an awful man!”

The moment Takado approached them, they nearly choked, being taken aback.

“What school was that?!” he nearly shouted. The response what the one he feared the most. Was the same high school his lovely girlfriend attended. Without waiting for another second, he ran to find her. He saw how his girlfriend was entering the in-call room, rubbing her hand and chin with the sanitizer.

Takado followed her and closed the door with a slam, to let others know that he didn’t want to be disturbed.

The skin on her chin was already red when she looked at him. Her eyes were glossy and she looked terrified.

“What happened? What has he done to you? Please, tell me. Please...”

MC wanted to meet his gaze, but didn’t have enough force to face him. She wanted to cry. The first move she could do was to hug him as tight as she wanted when she escaped the man’s grip.

Takado waited till she was ready to talk, gently touching her back and kissing her hair.

“I was in my last year in high school” she started. “He was our homeroom teacher... He was loved by everyone... Some girls even had a crush on him, but they knew that he was married... Though... One day he stopped me after our lesson and wanted to talk about something... I don’t remember what he was saying, but he then started to touch my hair... I felt uncomfortable, but he was a teacher... And then he touched my thigh... I don’t know how I escaped, but after that I thought that it was just a coincidence, that he didn’t do anything... But it wasn’t the last time he did this. Each time he had the possibility to be alone with me, he did something like this... Till one day he... He... unzipped my skirt... I was terrified and hit him... I didn’t have enough courage to tell someone about it immediately. So I talked with the principal after a week. But she said it’s my fault and that I just want attention... I am still afraid of him... That everything will repeat... I know that I have to be a good doctor, but I don’t think I can do it,” she was crying so hard, that she couldn’t even talk coherently.

It broke Takado’s heart to see her like this. He felt so guilty for not listening to her when she wanted to leave the case. He took her hand and kissed it tenderly.

“You’re a human being. Sometimes you’re allowed to show it. I won’t let him touch you again. You don’t have to be near him again. I want you to be happy. If you are not ready to take care of someone like him, you don’t have to. You’re a good doctor for understanding that you can’t be the best one for him. Don’t push yourself too hard. Please. I’ll always be near you. Trust me.”

While hugging her, he understood that now he had another problem. He was the only one competent enough to make that monster healthy again, but he didn’t have the will to do it.

[spookypetrine]

Bewitching the Elements: Earth

I have been away for a while and I am very sorry I had to move home and start classes. As I am writing this class has ended and I am looking for jobs. In between applying for jobs and tweaking my resume and cover letter I am also reading 'Bewitching the Elements' by Gabriela Herstik. If you look for this at your local book of metaphysical store it looks like this:

I have been working through the chapters and although long she encompasses a lot of aspects of each element from the crystals, to the zodiac, to tarot cards. It's super informative and I do suggest it for any baby witches out there starting on their journey into element work.

The first chapter is about the earth and using several techniques for ground oneself using this element. Also at the end of each chapter are questions to help you connect more with the subjects and integrate them more into your practice. I will be posting and answering each set of questions here so if you like the questions or want more info to shoot me a like or a message.

In what areas of my life do I feel supported and safe?

In March of this year after a grueling stay in the hospital with bacterial meningitis and sepsis in my spine and brain lining my 'friends' at the time kicked me out of their house (way to kick a girl when she's down). So I begrudgingly came home and my parents took me in. I was appreciative, but fitting what was a 3 story apartment into a room the size of a queen-size bed was a challenge. They have supported me and love me while I took classes and now through my job search (fingers crossed). They have been a treasure and I am so glad.

Now in my craft, my support system is my best friend of 7 years is Aubrey. She is my soulmate I am sure because we are the same person. She started me on this path and I have been all the better for it thanks to her. We share so many things in our practice and resonate the same energy so much so that we share the same deity and my patron visits her on occasion. We are thicker than thieves and without her, I would not be able to survive. My depression would have taken me out long ago if it hadn't been for her. She's the kitchen witch to my green witch and I wouldn't have it any other way.

What does it mean for me to feel grounded?

So like most when I think of being grounded I imagine being barefoot in nature celebrating the elements. However, in this sense grounding is not an adjective it's a verb and active practice. To ground to me is to silence the soul and let it be once with nature. No distractions, just you and nature resonating in harmony with the earth mother. Actively grounding is a consuming practice for most, but so rewarding once it is achieved.

What does my body need to be healthy and happy at this time?

Currently, my body needs water, fruits, and vegetables. It needs meditation and more magic outside of the cramped room I now inhabit. My soul in conjunction with my body needs love and attention from me. Following my self-care routine and body care routine to make me feel better about my appearance. I am a bigger girl and being desirable has held me back for a long time, but now I just appreciate and forgive myself and go about my life. I am working to change this, but it is a slow process and in the meantime, I still live in this body so I need to work hard to make it better.

In what areas of my life do I have healthy boundaries?

Thanks to covid I have become more self-aware of the emotional issues I have and dealing with them. I have learned to put up boundaries on physical contact with people and set hard boundaries with others. If someone crossed those boundaries on purpose or ridiculed me for them they were immediately cut off. Never let someone make you feel uncomfortable or weird for having a boundary with them. If they don't respect your limits then they don't respect you and don't deserve your time or energy.

What areas of my life could use more compassionate boundaries?

So for this question, I am turning the compassion to myself which I don't often do. The boundaries I need to set for myself are ones on who I give my time and energy too. Time and time again I go out of my way and comfort zone to help and appease others at my own detriment. I need to start setting higher standards of the people in my life and who I spend my time with. Having compassion and caring about them does not mean hurting myself for them in any way including financially, physically, or emotionally.

What does abundance mean to me? How can I channel this Queen of Pentacles energy?

Abundance to me is having something to or near excess. Having enough of something for myself I can now comfortably share it with others as well. Now to embody the Queen of Pentacles energy I would definitely need to focus on growing and flourishing also taking part in more sensual activities cause as we know she is the Queen of Abundance. She fills your cup till it runneth over with gifts from the universe and for loving yourself and bring yourself the finer things. To thank her and embody this I need to perform more self-loving rituals in my everyday routine to show her my gratitude for all she has done in my life.

What am I looking to manifest in this phase of my life?

In this phase of my life, I am manifesting a successful and rewarding career that allows me to get my independence back. I have lost a lot in the past four years from my fiance passing in 2018, wrecking my car in 2019, my job in 2020, and my home in 2021. These years have not been kind and have made me suffer greatly and I feel I need to just rebuild. I need to manifest a successful and powerful future that allows me to become exactly who I need to be.

Well if you read this or stuck around till the end for any reason thank you. Typing these is like therapy for me and if you have any questions feel free to message me. I type these in hopes that my brutal honest with myself can help strangers on the internet be more honest with themselves. Because if you can be honest with yourself you can be honest with others. You owe yourself honesty in all forms even if it hurts and the techniques in this book can help you find your truth. Thank you for reading and also would any of you be interested in me posting my personal crystals and some info about them as well? If so drop a like or something.

Thank you,

Bree

[mwolf0epsilon]

How about a Sammy and Wally teaming up for once to get out of a sticky situation only to never speak of it again as no one would believe they worked well together :3c

Summary: Just like how water and oil didn't mix, there was no way Sammy could ever be openly nice to Wally... Or could there?

---

[[MORE]]

     Water and Oil. That was the sort of relationship Sammy Lawrence and Wally Franks had between them.

Under normal circumstances they did not mix, avoided getting involved with each other, and overall preferred to maintain a general distance.

Like both liquids, they were polar opposites of sorts.

Sammy was somewhat anti-social with a rather finicky temper that could be set off easily, while Wally was highly sociable, very easy-going and carefree.

Where the music director was a workaholic by nature (to the point it became quite detrimental to his own health), the janitor was more on the lazy side (only ever becoming invested in certain very particular interests of his).

So really, the hostilities and recurring arguments weren't unexpected whenever they crossed paths.

No one expected anything less from them.

     Everyone knew that Wallace Franks was a friendly person. He was born and raised in Brooklyn and had quite a mind-boggling background that often contradicted itself or put in question what sort of upbringing his parents had subjected him and his sisters to.

Questions that were met with a smile, a shrug and an eagerness to follow a routine full of cut corners, cleaning up spills, ignoring Mr. Connor and trying to avoid stepping on both Sammy's and Mr. Drew's toes.

He didn't particularly dislike anyone (although Thomas's pretentious tone made his blood boil quite a bit), and felt a little off put when others found reason to pick fights with him (fights he could in theory win if he felt like getting into a scrap with any of these fancy white boys who never once so much as got a punch to the gut or a kick to the balls).

Avoidance was the best survival tactic, one he stuck to unless personally blighted by anyone that thought he wouldn't retaliate.

He was a friend you could count on, but also a natural trickster, so if he wanted to be a problem he certainly could be.

The two things keeping him in line were sheer laziness and a good disposition. Why make enemies when you could make new pals? And thinking too hard on things wasn't really worthwhile in his humble opinion… Just look at Sammy Lawrence!

     Sammy… Wally didn't hate him (like most people thought he should, considering the blond was such an antagonistic asshole towards him). If anything he pitied the guy quite a bit.

The music director was an aggressive bundle of nerves. A ticking time-bomb that was just ready to be triggered, and it often seemed like no one cared enough to keep an eye on his well being.

Wally wasn't a medical professional of course, but even he knew when someone should step back and let themselves play stupid for a while to combat the amounting stress. Sammy was in his early forties (only 5 years older than Wally) and in desperate need of partying and some no-strings-attached sex. You know, the usual stupid adult stuff that got you in trouble if you weren't legal or if you weren't a straight white male.

Either way, all opinions aside, Wally didn't find reason to hate Sammy. He could understand why someone would carry themselves so tightly guarded when the economy was in shambles and you were trying to make something out of yourself. Although the same consideration did not apply to the other...

Because Sammy sure seemed to find reasons to absolutely despise him.

  "He's an incompetent brat with no respect for others! He's a petty thief, inept at maintaining the pipes, sloppy with cleaning and absolutely infuriating in how he brags about skills and smarts he clearly lacks!" The Brooklynite winced as he hid behind Norman, who was glowering down at the blond nuisance currently screaming at him.

A leaky pipe in Sammy's office that he'd been trying to fix had gotten displaced and destroyed a nearly completed composition, setting back the band quite a bit. Naturally the head of the department (who'd gotten sprayed in the face as well) had lost his temper.

  "Bite your tongue Lawrence, before I rip it out of your mouth myself." The much larger man between them growled in warning. "It was an accident, no need to go spittin' out such poison."

  "You can't keep protecting that little… that speckled half-breed!"

  "Now yous is really askin' for me to put my foot up your tight little ass!" Norman bodily shoved the belligerent ink coated man, the indignant anger in his voice pointing to the projectionist beginning to lose his patience. Not that Wally could say for sure, he was still very much hiding behind him. "Apologize to the boy before I deck yous in that big beak o' yours!"

  "I'd rather die." Sammy hissed between his teeth.

  "Why I oughta teach yous a good lesson on havin' some manners, you obnoxious little--"

  "N-Norman that's enough…"

Both fell silent as he spoke up, the janitor moving back from the pair and looking down at his feet in defeat.

He had messed up and Sammy had every right to be angry, since he had ruined his work and consequently screwed over the rest of the department.

It wasn't fair if he got off completely scot free, even if he didn't want to face Mr. Drew soul crushing reprimands.

  "I made a mess of things… I didn't pay attention and messed up the stinkin' pipe…" Sammy actually looked confused that he was just taking it for once, rather than getting out of dodge. "Now Mr. Drew's gonna be real mad and it shouldn't be the music department to pay for it…"

  "Don't mean Mr. Lawrence gets to go havin' a dyin' duck fit! Hollerin' up a storm like that, you'd think yous went and deflowered his sister."

  "Polk!" Sammy really did not like the sound of that. If he went any redder with rage Wally feared he might literally explode like a bomb. "How dare you?!"

  "Don't feel too good when others go sayin' shit do it? Even if Wally here is takin' the fall, yous still gonna apologize to the kid." Norman stated.

  "I will do no such thing."

  "Good Lord in heaven, yous really are like water an' oil! You better start cleanin' up your act before I start usin' yous to grease up the projector belts!"

  "Why am I the oil in this analogy?!"

  "Must be because you're an unpleasant asshole."

The three turned to stare at none other than Thomas Connor who had a displeased look on his face and a toolbox in hand. Wally looked away, already knowing what was coming.

  "Franks, get moving back into that office. You're fixing that pipe while I sort the ink pressure." Thomas passed him the toolbox without any second thought. "Mr. Lawrence, I'd suggest you go collect your things to keep them well away from the ink."

  "I don't take orders from you, Engineering." Sammy huffed "I was already planning to do so before you decided to show your face around here."

  "Then why haven't you?" The older man raised an eyebrow.

Well it turns out Sammy's face could get redder. That probably wasn't normal, but it did seem to amuse Norman quite a bit.

He snorted and shook his head.

  "I needs to go downstairs t'get a new reel for the projector. I better not hear no more hollerin' when I get back." He gave Sammy a pointed look before looking at Thomas "And yous better get sortin' that pressure issue. If any more pipes burst in this little ol'department we might get another flood, and we still don't got no pump switch installed yet now do we?"

  "At the end of the month that's getting sorted. For now, we do our jobs." Thomas huffed and moved to go check the utility shaft where most of the pressure gauges for the music department were located.

     Wally watched quietly as both older men went their separate ways, leaving him alone with Sammy.

  "Well,what are you standing there for? Go fix your fuck-up." The blond snapped at him as he went to pick up an empty box from the closet and began to stomp his way back to his messy office.

The Brooklynite gulped and took the toolbox he'd been given, hoping this wouldn't take long.

The thought of being alone in a room with Sammy when he was in a terrible mood wasn't particularly appealing.

Especially when he was pissed at him.

It was just one measly little pipe.

How hard a fix could it be?

Stepping inside, the janitor winced. The floor was absolutely coated in ink and the spill was beginning to spread.

Sammy was dragging his desk away, leaving marks on the wood that were then hidden away by the growing puddle. The bin he'd used to put under the flow was full to the brim and spilling out in rivets.

  "Franks! Close the damn door and put that curtain under so it doesn't end up going into the actual band room!" The music director called out, startling him slightly.

  "Oh, uh right. Contain the issue an'... Junk." He grabbed the curtain, something Sammy had put up himself to cover his office window because he couldn't be bothered to mess with the rickety shutters, and stuffed it under the crack of the door once he closed it.

There was a loud click but he elected to ignore it since he had his keys. He could just unlock it later.

  "You need any help dragging that?" He asked as he began to look through the toolbox for a wrench.

  "Just do your job."

  "Right…"

     They fell into silence, where Wally tried to figure out where exactly along the pipe did he actually have to sort, and where Sammy muttered to himself as he tried to salvage his papers.

The leak wasn't too bad all things considered. There was little to no pressure, which meant there might be a block somewhere else but that was why Thomas was checking in the utility shaft.

He just needed to fix this, tighten that, twist this doodad and turn that knick-knack… He winced when he heard papers crumple and get tossed into a wastebasket.

  "Damn it, not one fucking sheet… I swear I had some notes somewhere… where did I put those…" The composer was going about trying to find his stuff, looking through a filing cabinet that looked just as disorganized as Wally's dresser. "Was it in E? Or… L? Do I even use the separators?"

It was amazing really, how easily Sammy seemed to lose track of things.

He often yelled at the janitor for misplacing his keys, yet here he was murmuring and rushing about all scatterbrained.

It was a little ironic.

  "What are you staring at, Franks?!"

  "Hm?" He hadn't even noticed he'd been looking. "Oh uh, was just gonna say this is almost done."

  "Good. I want you out as fast as possible, so get that done and clean this muck so I don't have to see you for the rest of the day."

  "Yeah yeah, this whole pipe stuff ain't too bad when the ink aint--" a loud groan interrupted him abruptly, and even Sammy seemed to pause to look up.

Both stood there, slightly alarmed by the sound.

  "What was that?" Sammy asked.

  "I…" Wally frowned and listened closely. It sounded almost like, like… "Oh crap."

Another much louder groan and then suddenly the Brooklynite was on the floor, ears ringing and mind blank from taking a sudden hit.

The pipe had completely burst now, due to a sudden change in pressure, leaving the two with a rapid cascade of ink.

  "What did you do now?!" He heard once his hearing returned, but he didn't respond. Instead he sat up and stared at the pool of ink all around him. Where he sat it was steadily rising to his knees, and it was already covering Sammy's feet completely.

The office was filling up like a tub, and quickly.

  "Oh boy…" he got up onto shaky feet and made for the door, wincing when he realized it had indeed locked.

He went for his keys but froze when he found them gone. "Shit, shit shit shit shit!!!"

  "What now?!"

  "I think we're in a bit of a pickle!"

  "Why am I not surprised?" Sammy rolled his eyes, moving over to try the door. "Where are your keys?"

  ".... Uh…"

  "Are you serious?" The blond groaned and began to try pulling the stuffed curtains from under the door to get rid of the flooding problem. The color draining from his face when he realized they wouldn't budge. "No…"

Wally bit his lip as he watched Sammy tug harder and then try the door handle with a little more urgency.

  "No, no no no! I'm not drowning in my own office!" The music director let go of the handle and instead began to bash his shoulder against the door to no avail.

It wouldn't budge. "FUCK!"

     Thinking quickly (and trying not to stare at the ink slowly raising up to halfway up his legs and nearing knee height), Wally began looking for his keys.

  "I just had them!" He'd checked before entering the office. They must have fallen out when the pipe exploded and threw him down, so they had to be somewhere in the pooling mess. "Come on…"

He was practically on his knees searching while Sammy continued to assault the door.

There was no one to hear the noise, and if they didn't find a way out soon… Well… Wally's aunty Tess once told him drowning was a painful and far too long a death.

  "This isn't the time to roll around like a pig in mud!" The blond shrieked at him, to which he couldn't help look back with a glare.

  "I'm lookin' for my keys! They're somewhere in here!"

  "Then move aside!" Sammy joined him and began to frantically palm the floor, trying to find the illusive circular keyring "If we survive I'm getting you a better ring!"

  "If we survive you won't have to! Cuzz I'll be outta here!" Drowning was definitely not on the job description. This was good enough a reason to quit right?

  "I'll believe it when I see it happen!"

No matter how much they desperately searched however, no keys could be found in a pool that now reached well above their waist.

Realizing just how dire their situation was becoming, both men looked at each other with dawning horror.

It was a matter of minutes… their lives were going to end in minutes.

Wally felt at a loss for what to do, while Sammy… Well the blond was already under enough pressure as it was, so naturally he broke.

  "No… I can't die like this!" Fat tears began to run down his face as despair started setting in.

  "Hey now, I know this ain't ideal but--"

  "Ideal? Ideal?!" Sammy grabbed at his own hair and began to tug while he hiccuped hysterically. "I'll tell you what's not ideal! Drowning in this chemical mishap, with some brat from Brooklyn while my 16 year old sister is none the wiser at home, probably thinking 'Geeh I wonder where Sammy is, he usually calls if he's staying at work', only to then find out on the local paper the next morning that she's absolutely alone with no one to care for her! That! That isn't ideal!"

  ".... Oh you actually have a sister? I thought Norman was just provokin' you…"

  "I WILL STRANGLE YOU WELL BEFORE YOU DROWN YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

  "OI DON'T YOU GO CALLING MY MA A BITCH, SHE'S AN ABSOLUTELY SWELL LADY!" He yelled back, ignoring how both of them were now up to their chests (well he was starting to float since Sammy was taller than him) in ink. "HOW WOULD YA LIKE IT IF I CALLED YOUR MA A BITCH?!"

The blond head of the department screeching and lunging for him was all the warning Wally got before the two ended up tumbling in, heads fully submerged and bodies flailing as they attempted to restore their mothers' honors (if anything they probably looked like little kids fighting in a puddle while their parents looked away in embarrassment).

They only came back up to gasp for air and push themselves away from one another.

  "Ok that was not my best idea!" Sammy coughed and looked around. "I can barely see the doorframe or the edge of the window… We're going to die in here and it's all Drew's and that infernal machine's fault!"

  "... I." Wally paused "Wait, I ain't included in that?"

  "No?"

  "But the pipe, and what you were tellin' Norman and the fighting just now…"

  "I was pissed because you aggravated an issue I already had! You also stole my sister's birthday cake that I spent money on, are a braggart of the worst kind, and a troublemaker, but fuck I'm not gonna blame you for this shitty situation!" Sammy threw his hands up in disbelief, yelping once he lost balance. He righted himself and looked back at Wally. "And the fighting was because you called my dead mother a bitch."

  "Oh… My condolences… also that cake was yours? Man good taste! Nice stuff really… I uhm… I donno what to say… I just thought you hated me."

  "... Well if we're going to die I might as well be honest." Sammy sighed "I don't hate you Wally. I just find you aggravating. You're an impossible optimistic guy in a world that eats brats like you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If someone isn't hard on you, how are you meant to learn how to survive out there?"

  "... That how you were taught?"

  "..."

  "Then no worries Sammy. I'm from Brooklyn! We're made of durable stuffs! Like our uh… like… roaches!"

  "Durable like roaches… how reassuring…" Sammy held a hand up to reach for the ceiling. They were going to lose air in seconds. "It's the same as saying glass is strong unless it meets with a hammer…"

Wally stared at him before something clicked. The toolbox!

  "Glass, hammer, the window!"

"Hm?"

  "Sammy you're a genius!" The janitor took a deep breath and dove down to the floor. He blindly groped around for the toolbox and then for the hammer inside it.

He resurfaced to take another big gulp of air before showing his companion the hammer and diving back down.

All it took was a knock on the side of the glass for the whole thing to come down. Thank God for Joey Drew's not so safe work ethic and construction jobs!

-

     Thomas Connor was having a rotten day. He'd gone down to figure out what the pressure issues were all about in the utility shaft connected to the music department and the sewers, and had then rushed to get Joey to bring him down and show him the root of the problem.

He'd become irate when he realized the man had turned on the machine during maintenance, and it took a newly returned Norman and a mildly concerned Jack to talk him out of kicking his employer's ass.

  "With how irregular the pressure has been, turning on the machine was grossly negligent on your part! The more fragile pipes could have burst and then we'd be faced with catastrophic failure all around the studio!" He practically roared at the impassive grinning bastard. "Have you any idea how unstable the floors currently under construction are?! The building could collapse!"

  "But it didn't."

  "But it COULD have!"

  "And yet it didn't." Joey's grin widened. "So I don't see what the big deal is, Mr. Connor."

  "Sir I really think you should consider what he's trying to say. For uh, for everyone's safety…" Jack tried, only to be shrugged off with a wave.

  "Mr. Fain I see no reason to worry. No catastrophic failure has occurred, and no one has gotten hurt." Joey insisted. "It's as they say. No harm no foul."

  "No harm no foul?! What kind of business owner doesn't consider their workers's safety?!"

  "Mr. Connor…" Joey rolled his eyes but stopped once he heard what sounded like a loud bang, before the band room was suddenly inundated by a massive wave of ink and random junk. Among said junk, lay a coughing and very disoriented Wally Franks (still holding a hammer) and Sammy Lawrence.

The foursome that had been arguing were now coated in almost as much ink as the pair, and looking stunned.

Once the coughing subsided, Wally raised the hammer in triumph.

  "We're alive!" He dropped the hammer and flopped his arm back down weakly.

  "Huzzah…" Sammy rubbed at his face tiredly before looking over at their audience. Once his eyes locked with Joey's, he seemed to regain all strength. "DREW."

  "Shit." Joey turned around swiftly and began limping away at a considerable speed with aid from his cane, while Sammy scrambled onto his feet and began running after him.

  "WE NEARLY DROWNED! YOU AREN'T GETTING AWAY SO EASILY! COME BACK HERE!"

  "Someone cancel my appointments!"

  "DREWWWW!!!!"

    Norman clicked his tongue and shook his head while Jack helped Wally onto his feet and asked if he was ok.

  "Oh, I'm good!" The Brooklynite smiled "Nearly drowned with Sammy, but peachy!"

  "You nearly drowned?!" Thomas stared in disbelief.

  "Yeah… but it's good. I broke a window but other than that everything should uh, be repairable I think? Might need a lot o' bleach to clean up… but you know." Wally shrugged.

  "Should I ask what abouts happened in that office when yous was both alone in there?" Norman questioned "Besides nearly drownin' in Joey's hubris?"

  "Uh… oh, you're asking if Sammy gave me any trouble aren't ya?" Wally shook his head "Not really. He was even nice to me for a little bit!"

  "Nice?" Norman and Thomas both exchanged looks "To you?"

  "Oh Geeh, I should get him checked, he might have swallowed ink and become delusional…" Jack whispered to himself in concern.

  "Ye, nice! Sammy Lawrence was nice to me in a situation where we thought we were gonna die, so it had to have been genuine!" The janitor grinned. "But I'll bet by Monday he'll be back to being a grouch. Probably for the best… saying Sammy is nice is like saying water and oil mix."

Thomas stared at him before snorting.

  "They do mix."

  "What…?"

  "Water and oil mix. It just takes the right conditions." He shrugged "Thought you went to college."

  "Oh come on you're yanking my leg!" There was no way those two mixed, just as there was no way Sammy could be openly nice to Wally.

Could there?

The world might never know.