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daydreaming-nerd · 7 months

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 5

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: Damn we really on part 5? Wild. Also y'all thought Tama Lama Ding Dong was a shithead in part 4? Light your torches and pitch forks then...

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): physical abuse, mentions of SA, major sexisim.

Word count: 5462

(all photos are from pinterest)

I wake up the next morning to warm kisses being placed on my cheek. My eyes flit open and I can feel Rhys’ arms holding me tightly from behind, in front of me the sunlight drifts through the balcony windows and the snow on the mountain seems to glisten in the sun. I feel Rhys’ kisses trailing down my neck causing me to giggle.

“I knew you were awake,” he smiles, kissing my cheek.

I roll over to see him looking down at me, his eyes catch the sun and I can swear I see literal stars flickering in his eyes. The golden sunlight warms his face and I can’t help but reach a hand up to cup his cheek. His hand falls on top of mine and pulls it down a bit to place a kiss to my open palm.

“I haven’t slept that good in years,” I laugh.

“Well over 5 rounds will do that to a couple,” he grins.

“I suppose you’re right,” I laugh playfully, hitting his chest. “But that’s not what I meant, I liked sleeping here, with you.”

“I feel the same mate,” he smiles nuzzling my cheek. “When you’re in my bed I can sleep well knowing you’re as safe as you can possibly be.”

“That is very true,” I smile, running a hand through his hair pulling his lips to mine. “I love you Rhys.”

“I love you too y/n,” he smiles into the kiss. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

“I’ll never get tired of saying it,” I reply, kissing him deeper, the tension in the room shifting. I feel his arm snake around my back pulling me closer to him and I take it as an opportunity to snake a leg around his hips and swing my body over his so that I’m straddling him.

It takes him a moment to realize what has just happened but the second I start raking my hands down his chest his eyes light up in amusement.

“Where on earth did you learn that little move mate?” he grinned, rubbing circles into my hips.

“My so-called ‘dirty books’ you always tease me about,” I muse running my hands down his chest loving the feel of his velvet covered muscles under my fingers.

“Then my mating present to you is going to be a whole library full of dirty books,” he smiles and leans up to kiss me.

“Please stay,” Rhys begged again.

We had spent the rest of our morning tangled in a mess of morning sex and cuddles and then we utilized the abnormally large bath. As the afternoon started to roll around I felt my internal clock ticking and I knew I needed to get back to the Spring Court before anyone suspected anything.

“You know I can’t Rhys,” I answered as I finished tying the top of my dress off. “If Tamlin finds out what happened it won’t be good for either of us.”

“It makes my stomach sick to know you’ll be locked up in that house again, with him, with Lucien.” he pleads, taking my hands in his.

“I’ll be okay, I promise. The sooner I go back the sooner I can tell Tamlin.” I say remind him, placing a hand on either side of his face.

“And then you can come home to me.” he says warmly, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Yes, home,” I sigh, liking the way the word rolled off my tongue. I bury my head in his chest and hold him as close as I can.

“Let me go with you,” he begs, rubbing my back as his chin rests on top of my head. “We can tell Tamlin together.”

“I wish you could, but the second that you set foot in our court Tamlin will attack first and ask questions later. We won’t even get a chance to talk to him civilly.” I say.

“I hate that you don’t smell like me anymore,” he deadpans.

I knew that if I walked into the Spring Court with Rhys’ scent all over me there would be no way in Hel that Tamlin would let me explain. So I had thrown a glamour over myself to mask the scent.

“I promise when I get back you can rub your scent all over me you psycho alpha male,” I laugh pushing away from him so I can see his face.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he chuckles. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too Rhys’” I say, standing up on my tiptoes to give him one final kiss.

It’s unseasonably cold in the Spring Court when I arrive, though the sheer fabric of my dress didn’t do much to keep me warm. I walked through the gardens and up the front steps of the mansion. The closing of the door echoed throughout the house. Its sound reminded me of how empty this place truly was, how it held no love in it. Just pastel fabric and cold, echoing marble. It was never a home, hell it wasn’t even a home when my parents were alive.

My find wanders to Velaris. The warm inviting wooden walls, the cozy fireplaces, Cassian’s laugh. The lived in couches covered in all sorts of blankets, the amazing breakfast that had been served to us in bed. My mate, my beautiful wonderful mate, and how he smiled at me this morning. How it felt so good to wake up in his arms.

My heart already ached for home, and I wasn’t going to waste another moment.

“Tamlin!” my shout echoed off the marble walls as I started walking through the house looking for my brother. “Tamlin!” I scream again this time a little louder.

I peer into the tea room and find no one. I prance down the hall towards the dining room and don’t find him there either.

“Tamlin!” I scream even louder and begin walking towards his study.

“What?!” came a muffled response from behind the study door. I open the door and let myself in. I find him bent over spreads of papers adding up numbers and recording them.

“Tamlin, I need to speak to you,” I say, closing the door.

“Me first though sister,” he starts, standing up and rounding his desk to lean on the front. “I spent the morning negotiating with Beron and we’ve come to an agreement. You and Eris are to be married by the end of the week.”

“I already told you I won’t marry Eris!” I seethe. “I want to marry my mate.”

Tamlin laughs mockingly, “and who, pray tell, is that sister? Don’t tell me that after all this time you’ve grown to tolerate Lucien.”

“Lucien isn’t my mate,” I take a deep breath. “Rhysand is.”

The amused look on Tamlin’s face drops and he suddenly embodies the idea of ‘if looks could kill’ as he stands up straight.

“What did you just say?” he growls.

“Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, is my mate,” I say, trying to sound brave as I let my glamour drop and Rhys’ scent floods the room.

Tamlin’s eyes turn murderous and I know that there’s no going back now, no explaining my way out of this. There was nothing else I could say, the law of mates was as absolute as it got, he would be forced to accept it.

He charges forward and before I can move far enough away his hand is wrapped around my throat and the back of my head is slamming against the doorframe to his study.

“You let him fuck you?” he growled, and all I could do was whimper, as the hand around my throat wouldn’t allow me to speak.

“You’re a worthless fucking whore and you always have been,” he shouts slamming my head against the doorframe again. “I’ve worked far too hard and lost far too much to lose this alliance with the Autumn Court. I’ll be damned if Rhysand putting his cock in you changes that. You’ll marry Eris even if I have to chain you to the altar!”

Tamlin releases my throat and I drop to the floor unable to get my footing. I’m free for mere seconds before he’s grabbing me by my hair and pulling me down the hallway.

“TAMLIN PLEASE STOP!” I scream trying to rip my hair out of his hands.

“You’ll marry him even if you do so in a cell sister!” he bellows and I realize where we’re going. Where he’s taking me. My stomach pits. The cells below the Spring Court aren’t for the faint of heart. They are cold, wet, and musty. A stark contrast to the flowers that bloom outside.

Tamlin drags me down the steps, my knees scraping and cutting open on each one. As I feel the stone slice my knees the air around me gets colder and colder. The screeching of metal screams in my ears and I finally feel Tamlin let go of my hair. I scramble to the bars but it’s too late, I hear the lock on the door click shut.

“Tamlin, please don’t do this!” I plead, reaching through the bars for him but he moves away.

“You did this to yourself y/n, I’ve been a good brother. I raised you, clothed you and watched over you for years. All I asked is that you marry Eris peacefully and you couldn’t even do that. I’ve just lost parts of my land, I won’t lose this alliance. I’ll see you at your wedding.” he seethes and turns to walk away.

“Rhys!” I cry out hoping that saying his name out loud will be louder through the bond.

“He can’t hear you sister, these cells are so heavily warded, not even that so-called mating bond you think you have can get through.” he smiles before closing the door at the top of the stairs and leaving me to the darkness.

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys… I called down the bond but I heard no answer.

I had spent most of the morning and afternoon screaming for Rhys hoping that maybe verbally calling for him might strengthen the signal, but my voice ricocheted off the stone walls just like the mating bond did.

When the tiny sliver of sunlight went dark so had my voice. I could barely speak, so I resorted to calling down the bond. But just like Tamlin had said, it was hopeless. I tried to pick the lock with a nail I found on the floor but only succeeded in slicing my palm open. At this point my dress was so ripped up from being used as bandages and being dragged down here it could hardly be called a dress.

I screamed down the bond through the night until fatigue took over and I fell asleep. I woke to that tiny sliver of light again, which meant another day had passed and I was one day closer to my “wedding”. I stared at that sliver of light and continued to call down the bond but I was met with nothing but silence. I even tried tugging on that invisible string inside me, but I didn’t feel anything.

That night, the cell felt more like an ice box. The damp floor combined with the cold underground air had me shivering in a ball in the corner of the cell suddenly wishing I hadn’t used so much of my dress to bandage my wounds.

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys

I called and called until sleep took me, my body tired from starvation, and cold. And as I sat in the back corner of my cell, freezing and alone, I realized that no one was coming.

“Just give her time, Rhys,” Cassian told me. “Tamlin’s always been a bit of a hard ass, I’m sure she would say something if something was wrong.”

“Yeah she’s survived there this long, she can do it again,” Azriel chimed in.

It had been three days since I had seen or heard from y/n and I was beginning to worry. I know she wanted me to stay away from the Spring Court and give her time to reason with Tamlin, and I wanted to give her my complete faith that she could do this. But something wasn’t right.

“She should’ve contacted me by now, something is wrong.” I say pacing around my office.

“When was the last time you tried to reach down the bond?” Azriel asks, being uncharacteristically chatty today.

“Just last night, but I couldn’t hear her,” I replied.

“Tamlin’s got some pretty nasty wards on that place. I heard that Tarquin helped set them up,” Cassain replied.

“Maybe try to break into a few of them,” Az suggested.

“Worth a try I suppose, but that never stopped us from communicating before,” I say.

I allow my power to flow to the Spring Court and in my mind I can see the layers and layers of wards. I cut my way through the first few and I hear a faint crying but I can’t make out what it is. I use my power to dig in even further, straining against the wards, and then I hear her.

Rhys…Rhys…Rhys…

My knees nearly hit the floor as I hear her little cries. My heart nearly caves out from how hopeless she sounds, how weak.

“What is it?” Azriel asks, sensing my pain.

“She’s in trouble, I’m going to get her,” I say firmly, trying not to let my power rattle the very house we stood in.

“Rhys you can’t, Tamlin will see it as an act of war. Let me and Az go get her.” Cassian pleads.

“I don’t care, I won’t lose her.” I grit. “You both go get Madja I’ll be back.”

I winnow to the Spring Court as fast as I can and pray to whatever gods are listening that I’m not too late.

This morning Tamlin dropped a piece of bread and a glass of water into my cell and I didn’t even plead with him to let me out. His small offering of food when he knew I was starving was proof enough that all my screaming and crying hadn’t affected him at all. He was beyond compassion and beyond saving.

The bread was mostly moldy but I picked around the parts that weren’t and ate what I could, which wasn’t enough to cure my hunger. I left the rest to the rats who ran about the cell and crawled back into my corner to stare at that sliver of light on the floor all day again waiting for my wedding day tomorrow.

The smell of flowers and freshly cut grass had never smelled so sour to me as I waltzed up the steps to the Spring Court mansion. On the outside it was truly beautiful, but the inside was cold and barren, no warmth, no life and I couldn’t imagine my sweet y/n living in such a place.

I knew Tamlin was aware I was here, knew he felt me touch down on his soil, yet I didn’t yet see him. I used my powers to feel around for his presence and ended up walking toward the dining hall. I threw open the doors, hearing them crash into the walls behind them. There Tamlin sat, at the head of his empty table, and I swore fear flickered across his eyes.

“Where is she?” I growl stalking towards him.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Rhysand.” he glowered.

“Where is my mate,” I seethed, letting the last word bite.

“Ahh my sister, well she has a prior engagement and I do mean that quite literally,” he mused. “You see she’s to bear Eris Vanserra many sons and make me a very rich High Lord.”

My blood boils at the thought of her carrying Eris’ children and I feel my mental talons reach out to grab Tamlin’s mind. He falls to the floor in pain and it only seeks to fuel me further.

“You dare attack me in my own court?” he chokes out. “I will declare war upon your court Rhysand, and that whore will still be where Eris’ warms his cock when I leave your city in a pile of rubble.”

“Be careful how you speak about my mate Tamlin, I will cut out your fucking tongue and take a great deal of pleasure in doing so.” I growl, tightening my grip on his mind.

“She’s not worth this Rhysand, not worth your court, go home and I’ll forget this ever happened.” Tamlin rasps out.

“You forget that you are standing between a male and his mate Tamlin, and not just any male, me,” I glower and step closer to him. “I will melt your mind until all that is left is your rotted fucking corpse in this absurd mansion.”

I lean in close to growl every word to him loud and clear. “Where. Is. My. Mate.”

Tamlin doesn’t say anything. So I dig my talons so deep inside his mind so that his entire body convulses from the pain. I could shatter his mind right now, leave him dying and rotting in this mansion just like I promised. But then the whole council would declare war on The Night Court and I wouldn’t risk my family like that, wouldn’t risk y/n like that.

I dig my talons deeper until his eyes roll into the back of his head and I release him leaving him to fall to the ground unconscious, he likely wouldn’t wake up for hours. I think about killing him one more time for what he did to her, but I just turn my back and take off to find my precious mate.

I stare at the sliver of light on the floor and try to decipher what time of day it is. Try and figure out how many days until I legally belong to Eris and I’ll never hold Rhys again. I think about how my life will look, once Eris becomes High Lord. Will he allow me to attend council meetings with him? Will I have to watch Rhsyand from across the room and pretend I don’t know every inch of him? Will he one day show up with a High Lady? And I’ll sit there and watch him love and dote upon her like she placed the stars in his court?

I shutter at the thought and try to curl inward on myself even more letting my tears fall freely. There was no one here to tell me how pathetic I was anyways. I trembled to the point where I couldn’t tell if I was crying too hard, scared or freezing to death.

I hear the door to the dungeons open and I press my forehead against the wall and curl myself into the tightest ball possible not wanting Tamlin to get any satisfaction.

“Y/n?” that voice echoes off the walls and my head snaps to the cell door. There before me, Rhysand is kneeling on the other side of the bars. His voice is broken and so is the pained expression on his face.

“Rhys?” I rasp out, my voice still gone. I scramble over to where he’s kneeling and I reach my hands through the bars to touch his arms. The second I feel him I erupt into tears. “Rhys oh my gods,” I sob.

“What has he done to you?” he asks, taking in the state of me, I must be covered in dirt and blood, my dress ripped to shreds from makeshift bandages. “It doesn’t matter, stand back I’m going to break open the door.”

I do as he says and scootch back on my butt to the corner of the room where he found me. I cover my head and let my tears fall as I try to catch my breath. I hear the door blast off its hinges, metal crashing to the stone floor. Before I can even look up Rhys has me in his arms.

“Oh my gods you’re so cold,” he hisses when he touches my skin. “Come on, I'm getting you out of here.”

I feel him hoist me up and carry me up the stairs where there are no wards to prevent him from winnowing. The next thing I know my senses can smell the jasmine of Velaris and I open my eyes to find us in the foyer where Rhys first winnowed us.

“Cassian! Azriel!” Rhys bellowed an urgency in his voice I never heard before. I hear two sets of footsteps enter the room. “Where is Madja she needs help.”

“What the fuck happened to her?” Cassian balked.

“He locked her in the fucking dungeons,” Rhys gritted out. “Here take her,” he said, passing me off to Azriel and I let out a whine at the loss of him.

“Where are you going?!” Cassian bellowed.

“I left Tamlin alive before I found her, I’m going to finish the job.” Rhys seethed in a fit of blind rage.

“Like hell you are, y/n needs you Rhys. Your mate needs you, Tamlin will be handled another day, stay with her for now.” Cassian beseeched Rhys, and I could see Rhys trying to decide what to do.

“Rhys,” I cried, and I saw his heart melt at the sound of my cry.

“I’m right here darling,” he cooed, taking me from Azriel’s arms. “I’m gonna take care of you.” he said, pressing a kiss to my brow and taking me into a room where Madja was.

I felt her hands assessing me for any broken bones before she started cleaning the wounds on my knees and hand. Her healing magic is already making me feel better taking away the tightness in my chest so I can breathe without sobbing.

“She will be okay, she has a few cuts on her legs but her hand will need stitches. She seems to have some head trauma and severe damage to her trachea,” she begins. “Say ‘ahh’ for me sweetie.”

“Ahh,” I comply, the word barely a flicker of sound.

“Damage to her vocal chords, she must’ve been screaming for hours.” Madja says, helping me sit up again. “She’s cold, hungry and traumatized, but with some warmth, food and rest she will be okay,” she smiles at Rhys.

“Thank you Madja,” Rhys says, forcing a smile.

I stood and walked over to where a mirror was across the room, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel looked at me as if I might shatter on the ground at any given moment. When I look into the mirror I gasp, I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. Hair matted, tired eyes, dress torn to shreds and a large bruise around my neck from where Tamlin choked me.

I can see Rhys coming to stand behind me as I trace the bruise with my hand. I make eye contact with him in the mirror and I can see him trying not to cry. I turn to throw my arms around him and sob into his chest and though his arms come to wrap around me as well he holds me like I might break.

“Let's get you cleaned up okay?” he says sweetly.

I nod and allow him to pick me up and carry me to his, well, our room. When we arrive the bath is already magically filled and heated and I chalk it up to the magic that brought us breakfast in bed that one morning.

As I sit in the warm bath he kneels at the edge, sponging me off and washing my hair with jasmine scented shampoo.

“You don’t need to do this,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

“I want to,” was all he said in return and I didn’t have the voice to argue.

He dries me off in a warm towel and carries me to bed. Already waiting for me is a beef and vegetable stew. Rhys tries to pick it up and spoon feed it to me, but I take it from his hands to feed myself.

“I promise you I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself,” I give a hoarse laugh.

“I know, I just…I want to take care of you.” he says sadly.

“You are Rhys, I promise it’s not as bad as it looks,” I say, shoveling the stew into my mouth.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not that bad’, y/n look at you,” he pleads, eyes flitting to my neck.

“I’m safe now though Rhys, I’m with you.” I say setting down the stew to crawl into his lap.

I feel his hand graze my neck where the bruise is, “when Madja said you must’ve screamed for hours,” he stopped teeth gritting at the idea. “Did he torture you?”

“No,” I started. “When I got back to the mansion I immediately thought of you and Velaris and how much I missed this place already and I didn’t even think twice before barreling in his office and telling him. I was even stupid enough to let the glamour drop. He completely lost his mind and that’s how I got this,” I said, hand grazing the bruise. “He told me I would marry Eris even if I did it in a cell. And he dragged me down there and left me. The cuts on my legs are from being dragged, the gash on my hand is from trying to pick the lock with a rusty nail and slicing my hand open.”

“And the screaming?” he asked.

I sighed knowing that he wouldn’t give up until he knew the truth, “Tamlin told me the cells were heavily warded, that the mating bond wouldn’t be strong enough for you to hear me through them. But I didn’t care. I screamed your name for days until I lost my voice completely.” I admitted.

I looked up to see the hurt in Rhys’ eyes. Through the mating bond I could see him playing the image of me, cold, alone and screaming his name in a cell for hours. That name he begged me to say when we first met… I screamed it for days, and he didn’t hear me.

“You couldn’t have known Rhys,” I assured him, placing my hands on his face.

“Who's the mind reader now,” he quipped, trying to hide his pain.

“I’m safe now Rhys, I’m here with you.” I smile, wiping the tear from his face.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, I never want to be separated from you from this moment forward.” he said with promise and I could sense he was trying to assure himself more than me.

“Never again mate,” I say, pressing our foreheads together. I reach for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head.

“y/n no you’re hurt,” he murmurs, pulling his shirt back down.

“No not sex, I just- I want to feel you,” I say referencing the time he held my hand under a council table.

He takes his shirt off slowly and lays down pulling me into his chest. My cheek hit his skin and I’m flooded with his scent. My heart immediately calmed as I pulled the fluffy towel up on my body. Rhys reaches down and covers us up with the blankets and even though it’s not yet 4 o’clock we fall fast asleep.

The next morning I wake up in Rhysand’s arms and sit up to admire him sleeping. Somehow he’s still the most beautiful male I had ever seen. I run my hands down his chest and I can't help but lean down to place a kiss there. One kiss turns to two, two into three, three to four and before I know it the sleeping High Lord is waking with a groan.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he smiles that devilish smile that brings me to my knees.

“I’m sorry to wake you, I just can’t get enough of you,” I giggle, kissing his chest again.

“That’s the frenzy starting, once we officially mate it’ll be much worse. So much worse in fact, I’m going to have to take you away to my cabin in the mountains for a bit.” he smirks and runs a hand through my hair as I pepper kisses all over his chest.

“Aww but I love this house so much, I don’t want to mate in a cabin,” I pout.

“Yes but if we stay here it's a safety concern for the citizens but mostly for Cassian. If he even looks at you the wrong way I’ll be inclined to rip his head off,” he chuckles. “I promise you’ll love it, it's not a ramshackle place, it's enchanted just like this one.”

“That’s right I forgot males can get all territorial after they mate,” I snort.

“It's true,” he laughs. “I’ve seen males of reason and education destroy a room and attack other males, only because a male looked too long in the direction of his mate too soon after their mating.” he says, kissing my brow.

“Then maybe the cabin is a good idea, I’m quite fond of Cassian already, I’d hate to see him decapitated.” I smile, giving him a short kiss.

“You and I both mate,” he smiles, kissing me back.

I lean in to deepen the kiss and he abruptly pulls away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, feeling like I might’ve been too bold.

“It’s Mor, I just heard her thoughts and she wants us to come downstairs, says it’s urgent,” he explains begging to sit up.

I don’t ask questions, whatever Mor has to say must truly be urgent given the events of the past few days. I slowly realize I don’t have any clothes and reach to pick up one of Rhysand’s discarded shirts on the floor and slip it over my head. It’s big enough on me that it fits like a dress. He pulls a shirt over his own head and turns back to look at me.

“Shit woman, we're going to have to go shopping because if you’re walking around this house in nothing but my clothes I won’t hesitate to take you on every piece of furniture I own,” he smirks, grabbing me by the waist.

“Is that a promise mate?” I muse.

“You little-” he smirks before leaning in to kiss me deeply.

We reluctantly break apart and Rhys leads me down the stairs to where his cousin Mor awaits with a letter in hand, the wax seal already broken.

“Mor this is y/n, my mate. Y/n this is my cousin Mor.” Rhys introduces us, taking the letter from Mor’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m sorry I’m not wearing something more proper. I don’t have any clothes here yet,” I smile nervously, holding out my hand for her to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, pushing my hand away and wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “And don’t worry about the clothes I’ve been dying to go shopping, and no one is better at spending Rhys’s money than me.”

I see Rhys roll his eyes as he pockets the letter.

“I’ll look forward to that, I’ve always longed for a girlfriend to go shopping with,” I say truthfully. “What was the letter about?” I say directing my attention to Rhys who already looks like he's scheming and brooding over it.

“It’s from the council, they are calling us in to question the validity of our mating bond and who you truly belong to, me or Eris,” he explains and I can tell it’s plaguing him.

“Beron definitely wrote that, he’s such a sexist asshole,” Mor ranted rolling her eyes.

“Do you think we need to worry?” I ask earnestly.

“With Beron backing your brother? We might.”

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#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #cassian acotar

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thegainingdesk · 9 months

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The Spider to the Fly

Statement of Oliver Barrett, dated 22/05/2023

The rent should have been the first red flag, I know that, but fuck me, have you seen the rents in Dublin these days? Worst than fucking London, if you can believe it. And there's this guy, right, four-story townhouse, twenty minute walk from my new job, says he just wants a tenant to make this place feel less empty, all for a grand a month, bills included. In this market! Too fucking right I didn't question it.

Well, I say a grand a month. One thousand euro and one cent, to be exact. The cent didn't bother me at the time, why the fuck would it? The man wants to add a cent to the rent, I'll give him a cent. Maybe it was to get over some threshold for something, or some tax dodge, or whatever, I didn't know and I didn't care. It was still €999.99 less than I'd be paying anywhere else in Dublin for some damn sight nicer digs. Now though, knowing what I know, after everything that… well, anyway, it bothers me more now. It feels significant. Like those old penny rents you hear about, or something. Something symbolic, and old.

But anyway, there was a cheap room going, in a good location, a good house, it was bloody better than anywhere else I've come across, and I was only in Dublin for a weekend before I properly moved to get everything sorted, so I didn't ask too many questions. So I go to this house, and it was gorgeous. We're talking Edwardian or Georgian or, I don't know, fancy. Some Upstairs Downstairs shit, like there were servants quarters and a coal cellar and whatever a scullery is. I didn't really think about it at the time - again, I'm not really in a position to ask questions - but you usually see houses like that in a row, right? Like terraced? This one was just there. On its own. On a nice street, don't get me wrong, but it was taller than any of the other houses, set back a little, and the style's all wrong. Maybe I thought the rest of the street had gotten destroyed in the Blitz or whatever they had in Dublin, it's not like I know anything about history outside of naming a couple of Henry the eighth's wives.

So I walked up to this great big, not quite right house, and I pulled this rope by the door and it fucking clanged. This wasn't some little ding dong electric doorbell, this was some fucking machinery. It felt like the house was vibrating from it. And while I'm reeling, this Victorian era sonic torture device still going off in my ears, the door swung open, too fast really, faster than you'd expect someone to get to the door, even if they were by it.

I don't know who I was expecting but this guy was hot. Like, something else. I'm talking movie star hot. Fuck, maybe he was a movie star, there's so many movies these days, right? He could have an Oscar for all I know, maybe that's how he could afford the house. I'm looking up at him, checking him out, and I don't have to look up at many people but this guy is real fucking tall, six-six maybe? And rail thin, but in a way that he makes work, he wasn't gaunt or anything just… angular. He had this jet black hair and his eyes were somehow even darker - at the time I probably would have said they were like ink or the night sky or something sappy, but looking back all I can think of is how shark's eyes look. I don't know, maybe that's just me projecting stuff after… well you know, after what happened. And he's just stood there, completely still, but, fuck, I really don't know if I can explain how fucking still this guy was. And that's not me looking back after the fact, at the time I was a bit creeped out. It was like looking at an optical illusion or something, like my eyes couldn't put together this guy that I'd just seen open a door in double-speed with how fucking still he was now. It was like someone had pasted a photo into the middle of my vision. And even though he was so fucking still, there was this, I don't know, this tension to him, like I could just see some energy there, ready to… fuck, I don't know, pounce. Like a tiger or… well, like a… but that's for later I guess.

Anyway, I'm checking this guy out, because he was sort of giving me the creeps, sure, but he was also fucking hot, and suddenly he wasn't so still anymore, and he’s looking me up and down and he's smiling and I'm starting to feel like this guy's checking me out right back. I don't know if you're gay, but there's this look, right, every gay guy knows it, this discrete little up and down, maybe with a little smirk and it just says, you know, "I'm gay, you're gay, let's fuck sometime". Now, I've had my share of guys in the past, I'm not about to be humble about it, I know that I'm hot myself, or, well I guess, you know, back then… but you know, I really was a great looking guy. Square fucking jaw, little dimple right in the middle of my chin, real broad shoulders, you know, I've always played rugby, and you could tell, because I had some decent fucking muscle on me, still do, probably, somewhere under all this fucking… whatever. The point is that I've had guys lining up for a chance to bounce on my dick, so I wasn't exactly shocked when guys checked me out but this guy, I mean, he was out of my league, you know? Out of everyone's league. It's insane to think guys that look like that would check anyone out.

So I was feeling sort of cocky, like maybe I could get more than a room out of this deal. And I know, don't shit where you eat, and definitely don't fuck your landlord, but fuck me this guy was hot, right? I couldn't pass up on this. And everyone in the fucking city's probably going for the room, it's not like I was likely to get it anyway, not with an advert that attractive. Sorry, what's that? Where did I see the advert? No, sorry, I can't quite… No, no, I don't think it was on a website, maybe a… Listen, I don't fucking remember, okay?

Anyway, so this guy smiled and he stepped back, and with his long legs he was all of a sudden right back in the shadows, and he let me in and the door closed behind me and all of a sudden it's just so dark. And I sort of stumbled around and I hear his voice, somewhere off down the corridor, and he said, and I remember this, because it's the first time I heard his voice, all soft and whispery, like I'm imagining it more than I'm hearing it, and there's this light, coming down the corridor from some door, but it's not like the hallway gets any brighter, it's just this beam of light for me to walk to. And he said, right, he says "Why don't you come into the parlour?" I remember that, exactly, because who the fuck says parlour, but it's in my head too, like it echoes in there. Anyway, so I walk towards this light, but it feels, I don't know, like I'm pushing through something, like- fuck, sorry, can we stop for a minute, I just need-

[Archivist's note: the recording was paused here at the subject's request. The subject was provided with a cup of tea and a member of the museum staff brought some food. After around five minutes, the subject was happy to continue the interview.]

Sorry, it's just, that's sort of where it feels like it all started. Walking through that hallway towards that voice and that light and that… that parlour. I'm not sure I really even remember what happened next. We spoke, for a while, the house rules and stuff I guess, when rent was due. I don't even remember agreeing to taking the room, it was just assumed. He certainly didn't give me a tour. He didn't even tell me his name, I don't think, not then anyway.

The next thing I knew I was back blinking in bright daylight, disorientated to be out of the dark and out of the warm, heady air of my new home. I flew back to London the next day, and spent the next few weeks preparing for my move. I received a contract in the post and found out my landlord's name - Damhán Alla. The contract was short, and was lacking a lot of the details I was expecting - nothing about a deposit, no bank details to transfer money to, none of the usual stuff. And what was there was odd - the contract was for one year and one day, no naked flames, the basement was out of bounds, I wasn't allowed to use certain spices or cleaning products, and I specifically wasn't allowed to do the hoovering myself. But like I said, if he wanted to run a tax dodge or whatever it was by renting me a cheap room, and if he was a little particular about his cleaning, or he's got some allergies, I was happy to help him out.

I turned up with all my worldly possessions in a few bulky bags - I'd either sold a lot of my stuff or sent it to my parents for storage, there was no realistic way I could haul much of anything to Ireland. My new landlord opened the door and was once again eye-achingly still for a moment or two, and then suddenly he's all charm, welcoming me in, taking my bags from me once I'm over the threshold, asking me how the journey was, if I wanted something to eat or drink.

I stuck my hand out. "It's Damhán, right?" I said. "I don't think we actually exchanged names last time." Thinking back, I don't even know how he knew my name and address to send me the contract.

His laugh was soft, but with a cruelty hiding somewhere deep in it. There was another sound there too, coming from his throat; a clicking maybe, or bubbling, and a hissing behind that. "Damhán," he corrected my pronunciation. "Not 'Damn-ham'."

"Down," I tried again. He shook his head and repeated it, slowly. "Dow-un," I said, doing my best to replicate him. He shrugged and gave a small nod - it would do, obviously.

I had the attic room - a whole floor really. In contrast to the rest of the house it was light and airy, with large windows and modern furniture. It had an en suite, a little kitchenette, even my own sitting area. I never needed to use the rest of the house if I didn't want to, but Damhán assured me from the shadows of the stairwell that I had the run of it, reminding me once again about the contract's stipulation not to go into the basement.

I got the full tour. The house was huge - I mean huge, you know. Bigger than it looked from the street, it must have just gone back and back. Loads of empty rooms, which makes sense, I guess; what are you supposed to fill that much space with? I remember at the time asking where his bedroom was, you know, just so I'm not stepping on his toes, and him avoiding the question. Thinking back I don't think I ever did figure that out. And the whole house was dark, curtains drawn in every room, hardly any lights. And cobwebs absolutely everywhere. And these cobwebs weren't dainty little strands, you know, they were thick. I'd occasionally walk through one and actually get stuck for a second or two. I remember thinking that if I had enough money to afford a house like that I'd hire a cleaner to come in a couple of times a week, but rich people are weird, right?

We made our way through the dark to the kitchen - me stumbling, my new landlord silent - where he started pulling out pots and pans to cook me lunch. I can't remember if I'd mentioned being hungry, but I suppose I must have been, anyway, after so long traveling.

Once he was set up, he led me through to the parlour where we spoke that first time, and told me to sit down. He left and I could hear him cooking in the kitchen.

He came back in after a while and placed a plate filled with bacon sandwiches in front of me. The bread was thickly sliced and freshly baked, the fat on the bacon was still sizzling slightly, and I could smell the butter before it was even close. There must have been three or four of them on the plate, each one piled with bacon and far too much for me to eat in one sitting usually. I remember salivating and licking my lips. Damhán licked his lips as well, and watched me tuck in.

Damhán wasn't much of a talker, I quickly learned, but he liked my company at meal times. Whenever I did try talking to him, he'd always end up laughing - with that hissing, bubbling, clicking sound beneath it. I learnt after a while to not make him laugh. He'd not eat with me, he'd just… watch me. Each breakfast and dinner time, and lunch on weekends, he'd call me into the parlour, place a pile of food in front of me and watch me eat it all. Always huge portions, always rich and fatty, always fucking incredible. Some of the best food I'd ever eaten, honestly. Every time I'd think, I'm never finishing that, y’know, always a proper pile of food, and then I'd take that first bite and… Look, it did taste amazing, it did, and I'm sure that was a part of it, but really… I don't know. I just ate. Like I entered a trance, or I was sleepwalking, or… I don't know, okay? All I know is he'd put food in front of me and watch me eat and then it was like, I don't know, like I knew I was eating but I didn't feel it. Like someone else was eating and I was watching them as well.

I started snacking at work as well. I've never been much of a snacker, got to watch my figure you know. Ha! And you can see for yourself how that turned out. But all of a sudden I'm just hungry all the time, I'm stashing chocolate and biscuits in my desk and in my coat, and all day I'm just mindlessly eating and- no, no, not like when he was watching, not that kind of mindless, just, you know, I didn’t ever think about it, it was just, I don't know, habit or instinct or automatic or whatever.

I didn't notice at first. The weight gain, I mean. God, I mean I must have noticed it, but I didn't notice it, you know? Like I could see it happening, I could see myself getting doughy and could see my gut puffing up and how my clothes weren't fitting right, but it's not like. I don't know. I thought with the move and the new job and living in a new country, it was just stress. Like, my weight goes up and down sometimes, this was just an up, there was nothing to notice.

But it kept on going up. And up. And at some point I'm bigger than I've ever been and my clothes aren't just fitting weird or too small, they're tight. Like, couple of sizes, bursting out, buttons not closing tight. I don't know what everyone at work thought. God, I must have been obscene. Actually, I think I, yeah, give me a moment, I've got a picture from around then, some work drinks thing… ah, yeah, here you go.

[Archivist’s note: the subject here showed a picture of himself in a small crowd, at a bar or similar. The subject looks to be around 250 lbs and wearing clothes several sizes too small, with skin showing where his shirt has ridden up, and shirt and trousers showing clear signs of the fabric straining. This picture, along with several others the subject has provided of themselves during their time in Ireland, can be found in the supplemental materials attached to this statement.]

I still didn't see it though. Like, you can see what I looked like, and, I mean, god those trousers! They must have killed, you know? And I can remember how painful they were to wear, remember noticing my body getting bigger, but my brain, I don’t know, just didn’t make the connection that I was actually getting fatter.

It was fast. Really fast. There was this woman in the office, Sarah, right, and she was maybe six months pregnant when I started. Well, obviously, couple of months later she's going on maternity and I looked over at her and I think its the first time I clocked how big I was getting because I realised my belly was bigger than hers. Even accounting for, you know, different heights and builds and stuff, my gut still looked bigger on my frame. One day just before she was due, she mentioned she's put on over two stone, and I remember people saying how much that is. I get home and I weighed myself for the first time since London. I was eighteen and a half stone. I'd put on about five stone since moving. I literally put on more than twice as much as a pregnant woman, and I did it in only a few months. That's mad, right? After that I tried to pay a bit more attention to my weight, step on some scales occasionally, but like I say, it was difficult. My brain just couldn't focus on the idea.

At some point in all of this, some point before I realised I put on more than Sarah I mean, Damhán one day just appeared in the parlour while I was eating some, I don't know, mound of potatoes and meat, and he just put this pile of clothes next to me. Didn't say a word, no mention of how it's because I'm bursting out of my own clothes or where they've come from, just puts them next to me then stands back to watch me eat.

I tried them on later and they fit perfectly. Well, I mean. They fit, anyway. I think I was so used to my clothes cutting in everywhere by that point that anything that was actually reasonably my size felt like it was tailor-made. They must have been expensive though. Real wool suits, tweed trousers. Not really my style, you know, bit old fashioned, but I couldn't deny they looked good, and by that point I was just happy I had something where I could get all the buttons to close.

I remember one time, not too long after, I think I was a bit over twenty stone at that point. I’d come back from the pub - I started drinking a lot, during it all. I think on some level I recognised how fucked up it all was and was just trying to… I dont know. Numb myself. Get out of the house. Whatever. I came back, took off my coat and shoes and whatever, get upstairs and collapsed. The next morning I had this hangover from hell, but at least I knew Damhán’s going to have sorted a slap up breakfast to help me through it. So I went downstairs and… god, sorry, it's just… right, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need…

[Archivist's note: The recording was once again paused here, and the subject was given some cake and biscuits while he became settled.]

Sorry, where was I? Right. I went downstairs and he’s standing in the hallway with his palm outstretched. Completely still, like he's been there hours, just waiting for me to come down. He had a lighter in his hand - I must have nabbed it off someone in the smoking area, you know how it is on a night out, you just sort of pick these things up, don’t you? Anyway he’s stood there with this fucking lighter in his hand, just staring and staring at me as I come down the stairs, and he said “Your contract said no lighters”. That's it. No “good morning” or “how's the head” or whatever. “Your contract said no lighters.”

And I said, you know, sorry, won't happen again, few too many last night, as you do. And he doesn't move. Just stood there with his lighter and he just repeated himself, louder: “No lighters, no naked flames.” And I realise, this guy’s angry. Really, properly, fucking livid. He was almost shaking with it, you could hear it in his voice. His face wasn't really showing it, not really, a little bit around his mouth maybe, but his eyes were… fuck they were blank. This guy was furious about this lighter, probably waited for hours for me to wake up, and his eyes were just blank.

So I'm there realising just how badly I've fucked up, that he must have some phobia or something. I’d seen all the hobs and whatever were induction whatsits, but I'd not really thought about it until then, just thought, I don't know, fuck, that they were just induction hobs, didn't think to care. I started to apologise again, told him I understood. I don't know if he heard me. He just went on and on about lighters and fire, getting louder and louder all the time, until suddenly he just stops and turns around and walks away down the hall.

For a second he stopped outside the door to the basement and put his hand on the knob and turned to look at me. It was like he was sizing me up, looking me up and down. Clearly he decided against whatever he was planning because he carried on to the kitchen and just snapped at me to go sit in the parlour. I remember that moment really clearly. And to say it now, it's nothing, right? He went to open a door. Decided against it. But… fuck me, it felt important at the time. Like my whole life depended on whether or not he opened that door. Maybe it did.

Fifteen minutes later he walked in and just put two big frying pans down in front of me, one piled up with bacon, one filled with eggs and sausages. He walks away and comes back with a loaf of bread and a couple of packs of butter and throws those at me and says “eat”.

And there was a part of me that, you know, obviously wanted to ask about the deconstructed breakfast sandwich I've just been served, and a part of me that was just absolutely boggling at how much food there was, but then there was… I mean the biggest part of me, the bit that wins out, just says to eat.

So I ate. I reached out and I grabbed some bacon with my bare hands out of the frying pan and I just shoveled it in my mouth, and just carried on until it was all gone, all the while with Damhán stood watching. Then the eggs and sausages, just with my hands, you know, with the yolk just, fuck, just dribbling down my arms. When that was all gone I started taking bites out of the bread. Didn't slice it, didn't butter it, just ate until it was gone. Then Damhán just carried on watching me and I… I got that feeling. Like I was in a trance and the only thing I knew is that I had to eat. So I bit into the butter. Just took a great big bite out of it. And another, and another. Fuck me, I ate it like it was chocolate. And I was screaming at myself to stop, right? Obviously I didn't want to be eating butter by the block. But he didn't force me, or threaten me, or whatever, didn't even tell me to. I ate it. I did that. Me. And he just watched.

Once I was done he walked out and left me alone. I won't lie, I cried. Pretty fucking hard. My stomach hurt, I was covered in butter and grease and egg. I felt huge - I was huge. And I just felt so ashamed.

After that it all picked up pace. He never mentioned that day again, but meals got bigger. A lot bigger. Each one could have fed a rugby team. Occasionally he'd just put a block of butter on the side, like it was a fucking dessert or something. I always ate it. He never told me to. I just knew what I was supposed to do.

And I started swelling up. I was gaining fast beforehand, but this was, fuck me, I reckon it must have been over a pound a day, maybe two. Must have been, honestly, considering how fast it all was and how big I am now. Clothes just seemed constantly uncomfortable; even straight after he'd given me bigger ones, they'd not quite fit right. My back hurt all the time from hefting around this gut, my feet hurt, I got these stretch marks fucking everywhere. It was just a lot, all the time, and my body never got a chance to adjust.

It was around Christmas, I must have been, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven stone - who knows honestly, it all went by so fast. I went to my work’s Christmas do. Fuck knows what they must have all thought of me - can you imagine? They hire me at thirteen, fourteen stone, and not even a year later I'm pushing double that and not showing any signs of stopping?

Anyway, the Christmas do. I'm wearing the biggest Christmas jumper that I could find in M&S, and even that's, you know, riding up on me, fits me like a sausage casing. People are being friendly, nicer than I'd be if I was watching someone inflate in front of me in real time, if I'm being honest. No jokes or anything; not to my face anyway. And someone asks if I'm going home for Christmas, and I say no, I'm staying in Dublin. They ask, you know, very reasonable questions; am I not seeing family, my friends back in London? And I couldn't answer them. I had no clue why I wasn't going back home.

Eventually someone asks will I be doing anything with my housemates. I said it's just me and the landlord, so they get to asking about him, you know, what's he like, is he alright, do I get on with him. And at some point I mention his name and a couple of people give me funny looks, one woman laughs at me. I assume I've just said it funny, you know how Irish names are. And someone tells me that Damhán Alla means spider in Irish. I sort of laugh and say I must be saying it wrong, I spell it out on a napkin and someone says, no, that’s definitely just ‘spider’. And they keep on asking questions; is it his first name, full name, do I know if it's a nickname, just finding it absolutely mad that the new fat English bloke at work is claiming his landlord’s full name is Spider.

It makes me feel weird. I think they eventually just accept it as a weird name, like celebrity parents calling their kids Apple or Moonbase, but it really stuck with me. And I didn't really talk the rest of the evening, I just sat thinking about the cobwebs, and how dark the house is, and how dark and empty his eyes were.

At some point I followed someone to the smoking area and made a point of nicking a lighter. I didn't know what it was supposed to do, what I'd use it for, but fuck it, if Damhán didn't want me to have a lighter then I'd make sure to have a lighter. I tucked it into my pocket, and from that point on I always had it hidden somewhere, slept with it under my pillow, even kept it in sight when I was having a shower.

Nothing changed for a while, not really. I had my lighter, and I was thinking about Damhán differently, but honestly, it's not like I'd trusted him for a good while anyway. I was still eating the insane piles of food he put in front of me, still getting fatter and fatter. This goes on for a few months, and remember, I reckon I'm putting on over a pound a day at this point - a few months is a good long time to be putting on that much weight. But, as I got bigger, I felt like Damhán started to act differently towards me. I could see him eyeing me up sometimes, like, I was some fruit he was waiting on to get ripe enough. He even asked me, a couple of times, how much I weighed. I'd always tell him, between my bites of butter. One time I said I wasn't sure and he followed me up to the bathroom and watched me weigh myself. I remember him laughing when I read off the weight - bubbling and clicking and hissing again, making my stomach turn - and telling me I was doing a good job.

One Sunday in March, breakfast was huge. I mean, I was pretty used to eating a lot of food by that point, but this was just a crazy amount of food. He just kept bringing out plates and plates of it, didn't even watch me like he usually did, just kept on going back into the kitchen to whip up more. Eventually the sausages and eggs turn into roast vegetables and chicken and gravy, and there's some steaks in there, a load of it was just ready meals still in the plastic, and it all just keeps coming and coming and I just keep eating and eating. Eventually it got dark and the food stopped coming. He never says what the fuck just happened or that it was over, he just stops coming in with trays of food. Anyway, at some point a bit after that I heard him go through the basement door, which, I mean, I should have realised then that something was about to happen. Because I've never been down there, obviously, but I also don't think I've ever seen him go down there either.

Anyway, I sit there burping and farting and digesting until I feel human enough to pull myself up, and fuck me I was used to putting on weight by that point, but I could literally feel all that sudden extra weight. And I stagger up the stairs, probably travelling about a foot a minute, really fucking sluggish, until I collapse into bed, in the same too small pyjamas I had on that morning, my gut fucking looming over me, not even enough strength to pull the covers over me, fuck knows if I’d even be able to reach over my gut to grab them in the first place, and I’m asleep within a few minutes.

At some point I woke up. I didn't think too much about it at first, because I'd started snoring pretty bad somewhere in the first hundred pounds or so, bad enough that I woke myself up with it sometimes. But eventually, I started to see a shape somewhere above me. Like, the room was pitch black, but there was a section above me that was even darker. And I felt something drop onto my face, like something wet and slimy. I reach over to turn my light on and there's Damhán leaning over me, with his mouth wide open, long lines of saliva falling down onto me.

And his teeth were, fuck, I don't know if I'd ever seen his teeth before. Like, maybe he never opened his mouth when he spoke? Or maybe it was the same as how I didn't think about how much I ate or how big I was getting and he just made me not notice them, but they were… fuck me. His mouth was full of these huge, sharp, black fangs.

And even though he had his mouth wide open, wider than I've ever seen any human ever open their mouth, it sort of felt like he was smiling. Like this sadistic, shit-eating smile.

I backed away, as best as I could, what with my being the size of a small hatchback and the fact that he was close enough that even a normal sized person wouldn't be able to really put that much space between him and them, never mind me with my gut almost touching him. I realised that I was covered in cobwebs, thick ones, so that I had to pull them off as I went. And he laughed. His mouth didn't move, but he laughed, and it was so much worse than any other time I'd heard. It was that same gurgling, hissing, clicking sound, but it was like he wasn't bothering to cover it up anymore. I felt like throwing up.

I reached under my pillow and I grabbed my lighter and held it up to him, lit. It seems mad really, how he reacted to it. A tiny little flame like that, and that fucking monster cowered from it like I was holding a gun up to his head. I’m not particularly maneuverable, these days, so it was a struggle, but I made sure as fuck to keep that little flame between him and me at all times as I heaved myself out of bed.

I backed towards the door, and I think he panicked that I was going to get away because he lunged at me and… fuck. He went up like he was covered in petrol. The flame barely touched him. And he started going around the room, bumping into things, and they went up as well.

I couldn't exactly run, but I turned around and I lumbered out of there as quickly as I could. At one point I turned round and the whole landing had gone up behind me. I couldn't believe how fast it was all burning. I think it was all the cobwebs.

I got downstairs, with my heart pounding, and I turned around one last time to see the basement door open. I heard this clicking and gurgling, like when Damhán laughed, and these legs came out round the door, like spiders’ legs but huge. Six, eight feet long maybe. I didn't wait to see whatever they were attached to. I barrelled the door down, and I think it came off its hinges - this much weight will do that.

A neighbour must have rung 999, because the emergency services got there pretty sharpish. The paramedics put one of those foil blanket things awkwardly over my shoulders, like it was supposed to cover me up, and I got given a cup of tea and sat in an ambulance for a bit, then got taken to the police station for some questioning. I lied, obviously. Just told them I woke up when I heard the fire alarm and that's all I knew. I mean, what was I supposed to tell them? I set fire to my surprisingly flammable landlord because he was fattening me up to feed to a spider god he kept in the basement? Is that… I mean, do you think that's what it was? No, no, I suppose you don't know any more than me.

Someone at the station must have picked something up about why I wasn't giving any details, or they had additional information about the house or something, because someone mentioned I should give you guys a call. That you've smoothed over cases before where some of the details have been, I don't know, weird.

And I guess I thought you might be able to give me some answers. If you've seen anything similar, I mean. Like why did he have to make me so fat? Okay, you've got a spider-thing in your basement and you want to make sure its meals are nice and big and nutritious, but then why take so long? Just feed it a normal-sized person a week, not, fuck, not the fattest person you’ve ever seen after a year.

No. No, I suppose you haven't. Sorry, I just. Yeah.

I've been to a doctor about the weight. They didn't even have any scales that could weigh me, they had to refer me to a specialist who had some bariatric scale things. Fucking four-hundred and eighty something pounds. Thirty-five stone, or near enough. Have you ever even seen someone that big? Ha, I suppose you have now, yeah. Anyway, yeah, they've got me on some special weight loss regime, you know, restricted calories, physical therapy which is basically just walking for ten minutes until I'm knackered. I need to lose a load of weight before they can even talk about surgery.

That's it, I guess. Will you- yeah, no sorry, you've got your own procedures and stuff. Yeah, I can see myself back to reception. I don't suppose you have any more of those biscuits, do you?

[Statement ends.

Final archivist's notes, dated 05/11/23: The details of Mr Barrett’s statement have been verified as far as possible. There is a record of his move to and employment in Dublin, and while there is not a record of his renting with Mr Alla, there is a record of the existence of a building matching Mr Barrett’s description at the address provided and of the fire Mr Barrett described [see supplemental materials].

There are 17 reports of missing persons logged in Dublin where the missing person had gained a significant amount of weight prior to their disappearance, going back to 1909.

The name Damhán Alla appears in four previous statements, dating back to 1907. We have added the name as a searchable tag to these statements, although none seem to deal directly with him.

In recent follow up interviews with Mr Barrett's family, friends and doctors, it would seem that his weight loss plan has been unsuccessful, and he has gained somewhat more weight since moving back to London. His family and friends have noted that he seems in good spirits, despite his rather unique trauma and ongoing circumstances. His father made a mention of a new hobby - a newfound interest in spiders.]

#weight gain #gaining fiction #gainer fiction #gainer story #weight gain story #male weight gain #wg story #weight gain fiction #the spider to the fly #ive had lots of people mention that whst they like about my stories is how sweet they are #lol anyway here's this #horror fiction

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impyssadobsessions · 1 year

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DpxDC vague concept.. The normal what if Damian and Daniel was brothers. EXCEPT what if when the Fentons adopted/fostered Danny, they thought he was possessed by a ghost because of the pit rage this feral child had. So they managed to successfully cure Danny of it- but because of it and being revived from the pit Danny lost all his memories of the league. He didn't even know he was adopted. Until ding dong years later finds out and is so confuse. Jazz like OH right.. you did try to kill me when mom and dad took you in. Danny: I DID WHAT?! Jazz: Mom said you were trying to assert your rightful place or something like that. Sam: Pfft! No way Danny could be that scary- Parents have photos. Danny was indeed terrifying the first few photos they had of him.

Also actually had this idea of the concept.. from like What if Danny ended up in Gotham because parents doing a convention and had to be saved by Batman and Robin.. Only for Damian to recognize Danny and start investigating to see if this really is who he think it is. He keeps it from his siblings though they all know Damian is up to something. Damian gets his answer even after blowing up the machine from it trying to read Danny's dna sample. Damian then warns Danny to leave Gotham- doesn't realize at first how much Danny remembers or not. But once its clear he doesn't, he just really strains Danny needs to leave. Damian fearing Talia and the League of Assassins will find out Danny's alive and well. Though never having a close bond due to the nature of the league with Danny, he didn't want his brother to be subjected to it again. (Damian only having realized how much he regrets not being an actual brother to Danny after living with the bats and learning what family relationships are suppose to be like.)

Danny finding out he's adopted- and also a deep-rooted fear rises as something is telling him to really heed Damian (Robin at the time)'s warning. Only hard part is getting his parents to leave when they're about to reveal their grand achievement to the world. So Danny has to juggle sabotaging his parents' portal they're making for the convention, avoiding being kidnapped, figure out who's after his parents invention, and his own turmoil (of being adopted, not remembering who he is, and fear of where he came from) Of course turns out the League of Assassins and Court of Owls are already interested in Fentons' invention.. more importantly the ectoplasm that powers it. Danny really has far too much on his plate. While Damian tries to keep it secret the entire time that Danny is his brother from the other bats as they try to figure out why the assassins and owls are interested and what they plan to do with the Fentons and their inventions. explaining things poorly again LOL my mind been rummaging this idea all day especially after I read Noise and Light by TheWritingOwl last night on Ao3 >w< hehe.

#danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc concept #damian wayne #damian and danny are brothers #fic recommendation #fanfic idea #dc x dp

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skzhua · 9 months

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Caroling to my Heart

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lee Minho x Female!Reader

Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas love story, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 14,653

Warnings: Swearing, talks of regrets, mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks.

Summary: Christmas is meant to be spent with your loved ones. Minho stopped loving a long time ago.

A/N: Credits to my boyfriend for the general idea of the plot (story is all me, though)

November nearing its end, Chrismas was approaching quickly. Children playing in the snow, shops filled with decorations to sell for the holidays, sales everywhere for presents shopping, music playing everywhere you go; truly the most wonderful time of the year.

At least, that's what most people think.

Chan has always loved Christmas. He always took it as an opportunity to gather up with his college friends with whom life was always enjoyable. Jeongin had recently gotten a promotion at work which he took very seriously, Hyunjin finally opened his dog rescue center a few years back, Felix was happily getting married in the following spring, Seungmin had finally started to get recognition for his stand up comedy shows, Changbin had entered a production company with Chan, and Jisung was finally seeing someone after not daring to date for years.

And then, there is Minho.

Him and Chan used to be the closest friends ever, and Minho was always the life of the party. He messed around in college, got good grades, made his way up to become a successful lawyer. Overall, things had turned out pretty well for him.

What Minho considered as his biggest accomplishment was his lover. The apple of his eyes, the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, the sunshine of his life. Y/N was in the same major as him, one of the top students. It started out as a very typical college love story. He was annoying her, she found him funny, they were paired for a project, they got closer, and they got together in a matter of weeks. From that point, life was perfect. They moved out together after college, adopted a ton of cats, went on so many trips outside of the country... they even got engaged.

That was until Minho messed it all up, losing everything he loved the most in one go.

Ding dong.

Jumping at the sound, Minho takes a second to recover and puts the movie he was watching on pause. He checks the clock; it is 7 o'clock in the evening. He wasn't expecting anybody to visit him. Nonetheless, he goes over his front door and looks into the peephole. He isn't surprised to see Chan waiting patiently with a plastic bag in hands. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before letting his friend in, greeting him boringly.

"Hey, Chan," he says before yawning loudly.

The older man looks him up and down, analyzing every bit of his friend's appearance. "Wow, you look like shit."

Minho doesn't answer, giving Chan the death stare instead. "What do you want?"

"Well," he starts while allowing himself to get comfortable on the couch. "Jisung is presenting his new girlfriend to us and because you didn't answer in the group chat, I thought I would check on you."

"Tonight? No, I have to get up early tomorrow."

Chan's shoulders drop as Minho, once again, declines an invitation. "You haven't come to see us in months."

Minho shrugs, visibly not seeing a problem. "I'm just very busy. I have cases coming in all the time and I can't trust my associate to work on them."

"You're overworking yourself, a break would do you some good. Besides, we miss you."

It's not that he doesn't want to see his friends, of course he does. He just knows very well he'll only end up ruining the night by not being the funny guy he used to be.

"I don't know."

Chan takes a nicely ironed shirt out of his plastic bag and puts it on the coffee table in front of him, and stands up to walk to the door. "You're welcomed to drop by if you change your mind. It's at the restaurant we used to go in college."

"Why the shirt?" Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Consider it as an early Christmas gift from me."

After throwing a small smile his way, Chan opens the door and leaves. Minho finds himself alone again, perplexed. He approaches the shirt and scrutinizes it. It's a designer piece which does not surprise him, Chan has always been the kind to go an extra mile for his loved ones. Looking at the clock again, it indicates 7:20 P.M. Does he still have time to go? It would mean he has to shower, get dressed, drive all the way to the restaurant... Right, that specific restaurant.

He will visit his friends, just not tonight.

2 years ago.

Christmas was the most important holiday to Y/N. It brought so much nostalgia to her and she absolutely adored every aspect of it. Baking cookies and go ice skating were part of the many activities she loved doing in December.

This was also the first year she had to spend it away from her family. She didn't regret choosing to study so far away from home but it hurt nonetheless. It would be difficult and Minho knew that.

Y/N had to work an extra shift that night if she wanted the day of Christmas Eve off. It was ridiculous, she thought. As if the restaurant really needed her to stay so late. Coming home, Y/N was so glad to finally be able to relax as she climbed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Minho was waiting excitedly at the front door of their shared apartment. He made sure the gingerbread cookies were all ready to be assembled to construct a house, checked if the Christmas lights were working fine, and put a playlist of Y/N's favourite holiday songs on his speaker.

"Soonie!" he yelled frantically at his cat as he saw him get on the counter. "You don't want to ruin your mama's night, do you?"

He picked him up and brought it close to his body, petting his head lovingly. Needless to say, this couldn't be a cuter sight to have when Y/N walked in.

"Hey, my two favourite boys," she chuckled at them before taking in how well-decorated the home was. "Min, did you set up all this?"

Her boyfriend put his pet down before bringing her into his arms. "I did. You've been feeling off recently, I thought it'd be a good idea to cheer you up. And since Christmas is next week, why not decorate cookies for the occasion?"

"You made gingerbread cookies?!"

Y/N's eyes lit up from seeing the baked goods and she rushed to go sit at the counter. Minho smiled at himself, proud he had managed to lit up her inner light just a little.

"Thank Felix for these."

"Well, thank you Felix."

Present.

Minho remembers every night she came home from that workplace. He always tried to make her feel better each time, Y/N despised working so late but she somehow always stayed positive.

How much he misses her.

Minho gasps for air, sweat all over his body. He had another nightmare, nothing unusual. What is odd is the phone ringing nonstop at this hour of the day; 4 o'clock. Who in their right mind would call someone so early?

"What?"

The person on the other side of line doesn't respond, Minho can only hear them breathe unsteadily.

"Hello?"

"Minho," Jisung finally speaks. "Sorry to bother you this early."

"It's 4:00 A.M."

"I know, I know. Just, I'm getting worried about you and I can't call you tomorrow –well, today– or you'll say you're busy with work as always. You're not okay and I think you could use a friend."

Although not wrong, his statement fueled Minho with annoyance and frustration. He doesn't need help, or anyone for that matter.

"Minho?" Jisung speaks up again as he doesn't get a response.

"Good night, Jisung," he simply says with the intention of hanging up.

"Wait!" he hurries to stop him. "If you don't want to talk for your own sake, at least do it for mine. Not just mine, the other guys' too."

Sure, Minho hates talking about his feelings. Still, he's not a monster and cares a lot about his friends nonetheless. Feeling a bit obligated, he agrees.

"So, uhm, who's your new girlfriend?" he asks, getting uncomfortable already.

"She's a friend of Jeongin. Remember that girl he worked with in college? Well, that's her. She's so nice, I wonder why Jeongin hadn't introduced me to her sooner. She kind of reminds me of..." he trails off but stops himself before stepping out of line.

"I'm happy for you two. I'm sorry I couldn't come."

Jisung lets out a huff. "Thank you but I know you could have, you just didn't want to."

"That's not-"

"Don't lie, Minho," he cuts him off. "You didn't come because of her, am I right? Because of Y/N again?"

Minho can feel his heart tighten while his friends keeps going at it, insisting on speaking about her. He doesn't want to, is it so hard to understand?

"Let's not talk about her."

"That's the problem, Minho. You never want to open up about it."

"She left. What is there more to say?"

"How you're coping with all, how we can help-"

"The only thing you can do to help is leave me alone. I'm doing just fine. Talking was a bad idea, I should go back to bed."

"Min..." Jisung says in a desperate voice.

"Good night."

As he hangs up, he can sense it might have gone too far. Regardless, he discards his phone on his nightstand and buries his body in his bedsheets. He hears meowing coming from the entrance of his room. A second later, his cat Dori jumps on the mattress to come and lay next to him. Minho reluctantly cuddles the cat back, his last one he got with Y/N. Dori is technically her baby but she left so suddenly that Minho had no other choice but to keep him.

"Where are your brothers?" he whispers affectionately to the ball of fur who replies with some more purring. "Are Soonie and Doongie sleeping too?"

Chan is probably the only one able to get Minho out of his house, especially during Christmas time. Maybe it is guilt or shame that he feels, but Minho hasn't been so great ever since he had his early chitchat with Jisung. Shopping for presents wasn't what he had in mind when he thought of making up for it but Chan insisted it would be a good idea.

"Look," he says while pointing at the pig plush on the top of the pile. "It looks like Changbin."

Minho shrugs. "I guess it does."

"What about this?"

He looks boringly at the shirt Chan is showing. Yeah, maybe he should have done something else to make the most of his day off. A good meal at home seems so much more appealing to him.

"Come on," Chan encourages him. "Enjoy a bit."

"I am enjoying, look," Minho tries to convince him with a forced smile.

"Hmm, maybe it's time to go to the food court and take a break."

Dragging his friend behind, Chan moves from restaurant to restaurant in search of a meal for his lunch. After a while of debating internally, he settles for a hamburger. As for Minho, rice with pork seems to be tasty enough. They sit at a table and start to eat in silence. Minho looks around the place, watching people chat and laugh. He sees one couple in particular and they remind him too much of Y/N. Adverting his gaze from this spot, he focuses back on his food before speaking.

"I was thinking of buying a new hoodie for Jisung."

Chan is surprised his friend is even conversing with him but smiles. "A hoodie? Doesn't he have plenty of them already?"

"He does but he sent me a picture of one specifically the other day."

"Then you should buy it for him. Have you heard from him, by the way?"

Minho gulps. "No."

Although suspicious, Chan doesn't push it. They quickly finish their lunch and decide to head towards a clothing store to find Jisung's present. At a certain point, they unconsciously part ways as they look at different pieces of clothing. Minho would look for Chan but he has the hoodie to find. Chan is fine on his own anyway, he tells himself. He goes to the right section and begins to browse through each item. He frowns as he inspects them, not convinced these would be appropriate for his friend.

"Minho?"

He freezes in place. Has he gone crazy or has he just heard Y/N's voice?

"Minho," she says again.

Finally turning around, he is somewhat relieved that it isn't his former girlfriend, but her sister. "Deena," he greets her politely.

"It's been a while, wow. How have you been?" she asks cheerfully, too much in his opinion.

"Nothing much."

She seems taken aback by the short length of his answer. Minho used to be the nicest man she knows. Of course, she doesn't know the full story about what happened. Nonetheless, she still considers Minho as family. So seeing him so lifeless in front of her is quite a shocker.

"I'm in a bit of a rush but we should go grab coffee soon and catch up," she suggests but from the look on Minho's face, she knows she shouldn't have.

"I'm pretty busy."

"Alright," she answers, uneasy. "I'll see you around then."

"Yeah."

Without adding anything, he resumes to looking through the hoodies. Deena eventually leaves and Minho feels like he can breathe again.

He has nothing against his former "sister-in-law" but seeing her so unexpectedly is not something he has prepared himself for. He will go grab a coffee with her when he feels ready to.

Chan comes back a few minutes after with a couple of black shirts and an oversized pair of jeans he picked for Jeongin. As they wait to pay for their things, Minho can feel that Chan has something to say. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence but this time feels like it's eating him inside.

"What is it?"

Chan hesitates for a second. "It was Deena, right?"

He hums. "Yes."

"I'm running out of ways to tell you appropriately but you need to get your shit together. The girl did nothing to you and she seemed to be on the verge of crying when she left the store."

Minho rolls his eyes, like always. "What do you want me to do? Run after her and apologize? I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. Dude, everyone around you is getting sick of your way of dealing with what happened. Sure, your feelings are valid. This doesn't mean you have to inflict your pain onto us. We only want to help," Chan responds, not realizing his tone is increasing more and more.

"Always wanting to play the good savior, uh?" Minho scoffs. "In front of strangers too? Look, I don't need you to tell me how to be. You're not my dad or anything."

"I took you under my wing in college, of course I'm still looking out for you."

"That was back then. I don't need your pity anymore."

Chan's jaw clenches as the two men stare right into the eye. The cashier awkwardly calls for them to proceed to payment which breaks their staring contest. They hurry to pay before storming out of the mall, both of them fuming with anger. The moment they get into Chan's car, the latter explodes.

"This has lasted long enough. How long has it been now? A year?"

"Eleven months," Minho corrects.

"Whatever, same difference. My point is that it might be time for you to move on or at least stop being such a pain in the ass."

Minho's eyebrows raise as he lets out a chuckle. "I didn't know such strong words could come out of your mouth."

"Minho," Chan says in a warning tone.

"So what if I'm not as easygoing as before? You don't understand how it feels anyway."

"Help me understand, then!"

"You just wouldn't!"

He surprised himself by yelling so harshly. The hint of regret creeps up but he tries to hide it by looking away. They both know this is the end of this conversation, neither want to continue anyway. Chan starts the car and the ride home can't be any worse. The tension is so heavy, he swears he feels his body crushing.

Still in silence, he drops Minho off in front of his apartment complex and drives away. Face blank, Minho goes in his building and lazily enters the elevator. It's like he's in a daze, not fully aware of himself. Before he knows it, he's back home sitting at his counter with three cats waiting patiently in front of him as they expect him to fill their bowls with food. But he remains still and stares at nothing in particular. Has he gone too far this time?

In all of the people he knows, Chan is the last one he would have thought to snap at him so harshly. Most importantly, he never thought he'd yell at him for no reason. For the first time in a while, Minho allows one single tear drop from his eye.

Christmas has come. Well, almost. Work has been the same and no contact have been made with anyone for the last week or so. The lack of human interaction felt both good and bad, but mostly aching.

Every day is the same, Minho realizes. Waking up, eating a very mediocre peanut butter toast with coffee, scrolling through his feed on social medias, getting dressed, going to work, bossing his ass off in return of a less than decent pay, coming back home, eating, washing up, going to bed, sleeping, only to do the same all over again the next day.

In a way, he loves not having to think about planning things out. On the other hand, his life is becoming more and more dull with less of a purpose. Why is he alive for if it's only to do the same task over and over again?

For a change, Minho decides to start a Christmas film instead of rotating watches of the same five movies. A mistake he does is not reading the synopsis before pushing play on the remote. He settles comfortably on his couch while Soonie and Doongie cuddle next to him. Dori is somewhere nearby, playing with a piece of paper Minho had dropped on the floor earlier that week.

At first, the show is boring he thinks. The more the story develops, however, the more he sees the resemblance between himself and the protagonist. The movie is A Christmas Carol, one Y/N once had begged him to watch with her. Scrooge is very unlikable, there is no denying in that. But Minho tries to ignore the similarities he shares with him and keeps on watching the screen in silence. At some point, it simply became impossible to ignore the tightness in his chest. In an abrupt move, he turns the TV off, picks up his two cats, and heads to bed.

Christmas is so near, he thinks as he is watching his alarm clock getting closer to midnight. He really does his best to not make a big deal out of it but his mind can't stop having these images of Y/N, his friends, Christmas... everything. He can't escape pain, no matter what.

Thankfully, Dori comes in his room to join the other felines which distracts him for a second, just long enough so he can finally fall asleep.

The clock indicates 11:55 P.M. when Minho is in a deep sleep and the only sounds that can be heard throughout the whole flat are the appliances running and the cats snoring. Maybe some snores are coming from the man himself but they are faint. Slowly, Doongie wakes up. He wiggles around to find a new comfortable position but fails and falls off the bed. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. He was going to hop back on the bed but a weird sound catches his attention. It sounds like a bell. Curious, he comes out of the room in attempt to find where it comes from. But nothing. Or maybe there is something.

A faint light can be perceived from the bottom of the front door. The cat carefully gets closer, lowering his body. In a single snap, something flies right from under the door and moving straight into Minho's room which scares Doongie well enough to go hide in his cat tree and let out a cry.

This immediately wakes Minho up as his instinctive cat dad senses take over but it is soon replaced with an unsettling feeling as he sees the bright light in front of him. He squints as it almost blinds him but he wants to know what it is. He can feel his heartbeat increase by the second as the source of light gets closer and closer. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes closed and moves his head away from whatever that is. Until he hears a sigh too familiar to his liking.

He dares to open his eyes and his shoulders drop at the sight. "Chan?"

It's not exactly Chan, it is more of a ghost-like version of him. He wears a very formal suit with his hair styled with gel and his body is translucent, making Minho very skeptical. This is a dream, he thinks. Chan is very much alive and very much not in his apartment. Certainly not after the events of the other day.

"I see you didn't even reach out to me."

Minho frowns and looks around the room as if to make sure he really is speaking to him. "What do you mean?"

Chan chuckles, his voice sounding more like an echo. "After our fight, dumbass! Come on, you weren't going to leave things as it is until Christmas."

He checks his alarm clock quickly. "Well, it is Christmas."

"In five minutes," Chan smirks at him. "I know the past few months have been hard on you."

"Great, even my subconscious is trying to fix me," he whispers to himself, loud enough that the ghost-like figure hears it.

"As in a dream?" Minho nods to the question only for Chan to laugh some more. "You're funny. Anyway, I'm not here for fun. I'm here to help you."

"You tried that already," Minho grumbles in an annoyed voice but receives a shook of the head as an answer.

"My human self tried, I haven't tried yet. You see, I only appear if I'm really needed and your case is a pretty severe one."

Minho tries to protest but is quickly shushed.

"Look, this is a night shift on Christmas Eve, I don't want this any more than you do so let's do it quickly. I'll send you three spirits tonight before it hits midnight. They'll guide you through your entire life and help you make the right choice. Got it?"

"Midnight is in five minutes."

"I know."

"But-"

"You'll understand," Chan cuts him off. "As for now, bon voyage."

Not even conscious that he had been awake —or dreaming— Minho hears a snap of fingers before opening his eyes widely and gasping for air as he wakes up. He is still somewhat confused, but rather glad this was simply a dream. He can feel that the sweat has gone through his pyjamas and makes a face out of disgust.

Quickly, he eats breakfast and freshens up before leaving for work. Yes, he is working on Christmas day. This might be the only way he can get distracted from everything going wrong in his life.

As he approches his work building, he notices a young man. He looks awfully similar to Jeongin but not quite. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, and Minho instinctively walks up to the man. He takes a moment to scan his appearance: he's shorter than Jeongin, has light golden hair and wears loose white streetwear clothing. He also takes notes on the grey of his eyes.

"Lee Minho!" he says cheerfully before Minho could let out a single word.

The man jumps in surprise. "Jeongin?"

He shakes his head as a no and smiles brightly. "No, my name is P."

"P..." Minho repeats slowly, slightly confused.

"Shall we go in?"

He doesn't wait for an answer as he begins to walk and Minho automatically follows him into his building, assuming this boy might be a new worker in his firm. They hop onto the elevator together and P pushes the button to level 7. As Minho is about to look for his own floor, he notices something odd. The building has 26 levels. So why the hell are the numbers going up to 30? He slowly turns to come face to face with the younger man who keeps a wide smile on his face, fear creeping in.

"Who are you?" he dares to ask.

"I told you, I'm P!" the boy repeats with an even bigger grin, almost creepy. "Short for Past."

Oh. Oh no. It all suddenly clicks in Minho's head. Either this is a dream occuring because of the movie he had watched before going to bed or this is his own story of A Christmas Carol. He pinches the side of his arm, hoping he would be back in his room but it only results to him hissing in pain.

"Do you remember your Christmas when you were seven years old?" Minho can only glare at him but P doesn't seem to care. "This might refresh your memories."

The doors of the elevator open right after and not only are they not in his workplace anymore but the setting is exactly as he remembers it from his childhood. They are right on the street of his parents' home. The street is empty, understandably so because of the light snow falling down and the cold weather. It is early in the morning and his childhood home looks much smaller than he remembers, and in a much poorer state.

P walks out first before turning around, encouraging Minho to follow. "Can they see me?"

"No."

The answer satifies Minho and he finally steps out of the elevator, letting himself get led by this Jeongin look-alike. He wonders why this specific time was chosen in all of his years of life. He ponders the idea of asking P but it soon vanishes when he spots his younger self coming out of the house with his parents observing him in a loving way. A knot forms in his belly. He hasn't talked to his parents since Y/N left. Are they doing okay? Maybe he should have called a few times at least.

"Can we bring one home?" younger Minho asks his mom, eyes full of hope.

"Do you want a kitten as your Christmas gift?" his mother asks and the child happily nods. "We'll go see the cats and I'll think about it, okay?"

Satisfied enough, he skips down the street while humming a Christmas song. Oddly enough, it is Y/N's favourite: Winter Wonderland.

Minho watches his former self with nostalgia. He remembers the moment perfectly. This was the first time he ever owned a cat after begging his mother to get one years after years. He had named her Nala, which he thought was very clever at the time.

"Can we follow them?"

P takes his hand, much to Minho's surprise, and they begin to float just slightly above ground and fly right to where his past self is. He doesn't question the spirit about how this works and resumes to watching himself coo at the cats. For a brief moment, his eyes advert from the scene and land on his parents. But there is something catching his attention. He sees his father emptying his wallet as well as his mom before they give it to the worker. His breath gets heavier as he looks back and forth from them to himself.

"Is this why my mother stopped going out for tea with her friends? And why my father couldn't take my mother out for dates? They used to argue so much about it..." Minho almost whispers.

"Parents make great sacrifices for their children," P says longingly.

"Why didn't they tell me?"

P shrugs. "Probably because you were a literal child but also because they didn't want you to feel bad."

"My grandmother would have helped us in an instant if she knew."

P shrugs again. "They didn't want help."

He easily catches on why the ghost brought him at this exact moment. Just in time, Minho gets a hold of himself and says in incoherent words that he won't fall for P's tricks. The latter isn't nearly fazed by this statement and he takes the man's hand to bring him back to the elevator in a quick flying trip.

After the door closes, Minho is relieved that he can finally go back home. That is until P pushes the button for level 18 which earns a frown from Minho.

"Aren't we done?"

"No, you have other things left to see before I send you back. Well, a few more years to see."

"And me at 18 years old was an important year?"

P sends him a knowing look but he acts clueless, as if he doesn't know what happened back then although it's painfully obvious he does. Denial is the best way to cope, isn't it?

The doors open to the hallway of his college dorm he used to share with Chan. He can instantly recognize the said-man and Changbin joking around before they walk in his dorm. Without waiting for P, Minho follows and freezes when he stumbles upon Y/N. This moment was merely over two months into their relationship but he could tell he already knew she was his everything at that time.

Y/N greets the two boys and encourages them to put their wrapped presents under the mini Christmas tree she had insisted on making to display in his small living room. Meanwhile, a nearly adult Minho is unwrapping takeout as he watches the scene with a huge smile.

"What took you two so long?" he asks, walking towards the group with the food in hands.

"Chan's fault," Changbin immediately accuses, earning a stare from the older man.

"Not true."

"I'm not the one who lost Hyunjin's present."

Hyunjin's eyes lit up. "You got me a present?"

A small smirk appears on Chan's face. "I got all of you a present."

"Even me?"

Minho's heart tightens. He still struggles to listen to your voice and because you were there physically in front of him, it pains him so much more.

"Even you."

"Can we open them?" Felix asks, eyes lighting up.

"After eating," younger Minho says in a stern voice. "Otherwise, you'll get your dirty ass hands on the gifts, or on anything for that matter."

Y/N glances at Jisung with a knowing smirk that his friend returns, something he hadn't caught onto back then. She still hastens to give Minho a hand with all of the food dishes, not forgetting to give a napkin to each person. He knows he can be a bit peculiar with keeping his place tidy and he never wanted Y/N to feel pressured with that. Still, it visibly seemed to have been a common issue she and Jisung had with him.

"Y/N, I thought you were supposed to go back home for the holidays," Seungmin tells with food already being chewed in his mouth.

"I was," she confirms. "Minho and I determined we wanted to spend our first Christmas together and, sorry, but I rather be here than with my aunts. They were going to be all over me about not knowing what I want to do with life, I can spare myself from it."

The whole group lets out a laugh as they go on with their feast before discussing all sorts of things. Hyunjin and Chan are in the corner laughing their asses off, much to Minho's dismay who is keeping a close look at his white carpet. Hyunjin has always been clumsy and this wouldn't be the first time he spills something.

Present Minho watches it all, fully aware of what is about to happen. He never regretted getting mad at his friend for a small spoil but this kind of behaviour is one of the many that contributed to his separation. He sees what P is trying to do by showing him this.

"I get the point, can we go?"

P chuckles. "After you know what."

In shame, he observes from the corner of the eye himself exploding at Hyunjin for staining the carpet, Chan nagging at him for doing so, the boys uncomfortably watching the scene as they back away from him... and he catches a glimpse of Y/N getting the necessities to get rid of the sauce stain, not even complaining.

"I think we're good here," he tries again to convince P.

He receives a playful smirk from the spirit. "Are you sure?"

Minho groans but, nonetheless, nods. "Please."

P is quick to grab his hand and fly right back into the elevator, doors shutting behind them. He does give Minho a minute or two to recuperate from the sight before pushing the button 24. Minho's eyes are stuck on the lit up number and gulps, feeling suddenly hotter. That was last year.

"Don't you have another Christmas to show me before..." he trails off.

He is met with no answer and has to settle for the tranquility of the metal box going up. Anxiety keeps letting itself known through his body the more the number rises. Finally, after what felt like eternity to him, the ding sound signals that they have reached the level.

"You might want to prepare yourself for this one."

Minho huffs and glares at the ghost as to tell him "no shit". The doors slide open and they are already in his apartment. At least, P was kind enough to spare him from reliving what triggered the actual argument.

His cats are all doing their thing as normally. All seems out of the ordinary until he feels footsteps through the ground. He takes a deep breath in and watches Y/N barge into the place, hair messy and tears streaming down her face. The guilt pit down in his stomach when he sees himself step inside after you, throwing his scarf carelessly on a chair.

"Are you going to talk at least?" he asks, looking down at Y/N who scoffs at her boyfriend's question.

How dare he is the one demanding explanations from her?

"Are you going to talk about it?" she questions back, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything."

"Telling everyone you want to call off the engagement is something."

P hisses in a disapproving way. "Man, you outdid yourself with this one."

"Shut up."

Y/N still waits for Minho to speak up but nothing comes out of his mouth other than his unsteady breathing. In a swift manner, she walks behind the counter and fills their cats' bowls in the meantime of waiting still for her lover to say something. But the man stays where he is, observing his surroundings in awkwardness.

"Minho," she finally calls out.

"I didn't call off the engagement."

"Really? Saying getting married is bullshit isn't telling everyone you don't want to marry me?"

"It's not like that. I meant it's not a necessity for us to know we love each other."

"You don't get that marriages can mean something other than that, it's so much more."

"It's an excuse to spend thousands of dollars on things that will last a day or two at most."

Y/N buried her face in her hands as she let out a groan. "You've always been like this."

"Realistic?"

"No, a grumpy old man. You can't see the beauty in anything."

Minho smirks for a second. "I see beauty in you."

"Don't try with your sweet words, Lee Minho," she says, raising a finger up at him. "You know exactly what I mean. I can give you so many examples. Firstly, you never buy me anything on Valentine's day because it's a marketing holiday. Then, you want every single aspect to be perfect and at their exact place although life isn't like this. And finally, you just see the negative everywhere, always pointing out what is wrong. What happened to my sweet Minho who would smile at the slightest thing?"

He remains quiet as he sits on one of the dining table's chairs. Not knowing what to do next, Y/N copies his actions and gets seated in front of him. They don't dare to look at each other just yet but Minho most definitely wants to. His ego too big, he doesn't budge.

"Minho, please," she begged.

"Alright, it's enough."

P lets out a huff. "The action barely started."

Clenching his jaw, he doesn't insist more and settles on looking at the ground while the scene he had been trying to forget about for almost a year was happening right in front of him. Minho hates it, his heart is bleeding in pain.

"I've grown, maybe that's something you should consider doing as well," he hears himself say.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he can't contain himself from looking at her, he never knew how she had reacted to his words. The view he has in front of his eyes makes his heart shatter in an instant. He swears he can see her soul leave her body just now. Had he really done this to her?

"What- Min, I-" she tries to speak, but struggles.

"Y/N, we want different things now."

She chokes out on her tears, the ones that she finally lets stream down her face since she had been containing them. She hated crying, especially with Minho.

"No, we want the same things," she affirms, her voice breaking. "You've just become too obnoxious and focused on your career that you don't see it anymore."

"You think I'm the obnoxious one? Y/N, have you seen yourself?" Minho asks in a loud voice as he gets up from his chair. "You're so full of bullshit with your positivity and ignorance towards actual problems, it makes me sick. Take the cat, for example. We don't have space for a third one but yet, here is Dori who can't even behave properly. And your Christmas decoration is taking too much space too."

"This is about space now?"

"Yes, I need space! And I'm sorry I cancelled our last date but I just can't deal with you right now. You're in the way and I can't work and- Fuck, I don't know how to tell you but we can't keep on going like this."

Her breathing is becoming more unsteady while the tears are still flooding out of her eyes. Present Minho approches her and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but it goes through. Right, he forgot. He is not really there.

"I didn't want to call off our engagement. But maybe I do now."

Slowly, she gets up and walks towards their shared bedroom which leaves a perplexed and helpless Minho standing alone in the middle of his dining room. He hears unknown noises and hesitates on whether he should go to you or wait. But again, his ego takes over and he stays right where he is.

Soon later, only a couple of minutes, he sees Y/N walk out of the bedroom with one bag and two suitcases full of her belongings. His face dropped immediately.

"You're leaving?" he asks, desperate. No answer. "For how long?" Still silent. "Y/N, please, I know we can figure it out."

Her lower lip quivers as she sobs some more, trying her best to ignore the man in front of her. She dares to walk towards their front door, not acknowledging her lover for one second.

"My love, please," Minho tries once more.

And just like that, she walks out, door shutting quietly behind her.

"We've seen enough."

P is about to say no when he catches Minho's watery eyes. He taps himself on the back mentally, he didn't think he would break down so fast. Taking him by the forearm, he leads him towards the elevator. The doors slide shut rather fast, which Minho is thankful for. In a careful move, P presses the ground floor button and the elevator goes down.

Once arrived, the doors reveal Minho's bedroom. It looks the same as it did the night before. Minho takes notes on that, it means his night is far from being over.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will," P reassures. "I'll leave you alone, now. It was my pleasure being your guide for tonight."

As the two men exchange a small smile, more as a form of respect, P begins to glow, brighter and brighter. So much that Minho can't even look at him anymore and is blinded. He tried to look away but even then with his eyes closed, the light goes through.

Suddenly, there's nothing.

The morning is brighter than he thought it would be. He swears he saw on the news the day prior that Christmas day was going to be gloomy. The blue sky with the sun shining is definitely a pleasant surprise.

Enough with admiring the weather, Minho finishes rapidly his coffee, grabs his briefcase, and heads out to work. As he walks towards his building, he can't help but think of his dream from last night. He did expect dreaming of Y/N but not having to relive the day she left so vividly.

As he is about to cross the road, he feels his body collide with someone which is soon followed with the feeling of burnt. He curses out loud and is considering telling the other person off. Only, it is someone he hasn't seen in a while and who has a face he definitely recognizes.

"Hyunjin?"

The man cocks his head to the side and frowns. "Are you Mr. Lee?"

Minho, as equally confused, nods. "You don't recognize me?"

The Hyunjin look-alike seems to take notice of his whereabouts and clears his throat. "I apologize, sir. This is my first year working as a guiding spirit. Shall we start over? Hi, my name is P."

Suddenly, Minho has flashbacks of his encounter with the boy of the same name. Was he still in the dream? Or was the Chan spirit saying the truth? He feels a lump growing inside of his throat as the P man in question goes on about himself.

"I'm sincerely sorry about the coffee I spilled, let me fix this," he says before splashing Minho's figure with gold dust. The stain instantly disappears. "Now, where was I..? Oh, right! I'm P, short for Present. I was assigned to you to review your Christmas of this year."

At this point, Minho doesn't have it in him to protest. Without saying a word, he walks in the building as P follows him behind. This one spirit is much giddier than the previous one. The moment he steps in the elevator, he does nothing but look around nervously. It is with a heavy sigh that Minho empresses himself to push the button next to 25.

"I thought I forgot something, thanks," P laughs nervously, receiving a glare in return.

The ride up is quiet and awkward but when the doors open, they both step out in sync and walk along the trail of snow. The Christmas market is an event that the real Hyunjin takes part in each year. He always contributed with an animal rescue center to help them give puppies up for adoption.

This year is especially important to him, it is the first time he does it with his own dog rescue shelter. For the occasion, a few of the boys promised him they would come by to encourage him. Including Minho.

Far from the distance, Minho sees Felix and Seungmin arguing about whatever while Chan greets warmly their friend who has just finished setting his booth up.

"Guys, come look at the doggies," he calls the younger men who rush to pet the furry creatures.

"I'd call this one Seungmin," Felix jokes as he picks up a baby labrador.

Hyunjin laughs at the comment. "Her name is Daisy."

"Not very original," Felix allows himself to point out to which Hyunjin chuckles again.

His laughs trails off while he looks around, brows furrowed. "Didn't Minho say he'd come too?"

Chan sighs heavily, giving one of the poodles some scratches. "I called him but he didn't answer. Plus, we had an argument last time I saw him so I don't think he'll come."

"About Y/N again?" Seungmin asks and Chan nods. "The number of times I told her to talk it out with him, she really should call him. The guy is getting on my nerves."

Minho's heart stops for a moment. Not only because he finally knows what his friend thinks of him but also because he apparently has been in contact with Y/N, without his knowledge. He thought all of his friends haven't heard from you since.

"I told her too but what can I say? They're both stubborn," Felix shrugs. "I thought of stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers."

"Oh, please. He'd kill you if you even mention her name."

The four men share a sad laugh before changing topics. Hyunjin is careful with each dog as he introduces them one by one. All of it becomes a blur for Minho, he doesn't know if he wants to leave now or listen more to it. As much as it hurts him, he can't help but be curious.

"Did you know this?" he finally says, turning his body towards P.

"I did read it on the report paper before meeting you but, hey, I don't know you all," he responds with his hands up in defense. "We can go see her if you want."

Minho ponders for a moment. Was he ready to face her once again?

"No. Not yet."

"As you wish. Your friends are having a party tonight if you didn't know. We have to see that."

"I know, yeah."

P takes his hand as they float away all the way to Changbin's house. Before setting foot on the ground, he can already see all of his friends with Felix's fiancé, Chan's wife and Jisung's new girlfriend. Everyone is there. Except him.

He carefully approaches the group inside the living room where the girls are busy putting the presents under the Christmas tree. What takes him aback the most is seeing a tall and beautiful woman coming down the stairs before placing a kiss on Changbin's cheek. Since when is he seeing someone? It takes everyone a few minutes to settle down and serve themselves drinks. Once everyone is sat, they hold their glasses up for a toast.

"Who wants to do the honours?" Jeongin asks and Jisung immediately gets up.

"Merry Christmas, guys! Thank you for this year and thank you to Changbin for hosting the dinner tonight," he says, bopping his head towards him. "And let's have a moment for our Minho. He might not be here but he's in our heart. Let's hope he can get back on the right track next year."

There is a pause in the room, everybody suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and sadness. They know they've done everything for their friend, but they still feel like they should have tried harder.

Minho, this time, doesn't try to contain his cries. He walks up Jisung and smiles, just a little.

"Thanks, Hannie," he whispers.

"To Minho," he cheers, holding his drink higher.

"To Minho."

P lets out a cough, grabbing Minho's attention. "Not to be a mood breaker but I think you should see Y/N."

"What do you mean?"

"See what she is doing at this exact moment."

He surprisingly agrees with no hesitation and they both float away to another neighbourhood of the city. One Minho isn't too familiar with. This must be why she chose to move there, somewhere she knew she wouldn't encounter Minho. They float down at the apartment's balcony and Minho can see her right away through the window.

"You can go through walls," P informs and he does as told.

He's surprised to see her alone with her sister. She used to be a social butterfly, he wonders what happened. Deena sets the table while humming to Christmas music and Y/N finishes up with cutting the ham. It's not as Christmas-y as it should be, it's rather sad. The atmosphere is sad.

"Need help with that?" Deena offers.

"I'm good, thanks," Y/N answers as she brings the dishes on the table.

She looks paler than he remembers, maybe because of the lighting. Her hair is longer and she seems to have dyed it brown. She's also much skinnier.

"Thank you for cooking," Deena smiles warmly at her.

"It's nothing," she smiled back and begins to serve herself a plate. "I would have definitely given a piece of ham to the cats if they were here."

Deena shakes her head. "How many times did I tell you that I can go get them back?"

Y/N shakes her head too and sighs. "He loves them as much as I do, maybe even more. Who knows how he would survive without them."

"He's not really surviving, if you want my opinion. You should have seen him at the mall the other day."

Y/N shrugs while playing with her potatoes. "He's coping in his own way."

Her sister lets out a groan, desperate. "Jeez, you two are so sad to see, it's depressing."

Well, if Minho wanted to be sure Y/N is still struggling with getting over their separation, he has his answer right there.

"I'll be fine and so will he. Besides, it's not like we lost everything. I still have you and he has the boys."

Deena deadpans at her and then points at her ring finger. Minho looks at it more attentively and allows himself to gasp quietly. Y/N still has the ring, the one he proposed to her with. After what he said to her, she still wears it?

She is quick to pull her hand off the table and cover it with her sleeve. "It's a pretty ring."

"It means more to you than that and you know it."

"He didn't want to get married and it's alright. We grew apart and it is what it is. Can we talk about something else now?" she says in annoyance.

"Y/N, Felix, when he called-"

"Stop," she cuts her off. "Felix doesn't know what happened. He doesn't understand."

"Okay, I'll stop. But just so you know, this is doing no good to anybody, especially the two of you."

Minho can't hear any more of it. In a second, he turns around and goes back to the balcony which indicates to P that the visit is over. The ghost throws some of his golden dust in the air and the elevator magically appears next to them. They step inside and press the button to the ground floor.

As it goes down, Minho is looking away from the spirit, he has a certain pride to maintain. P hesitates but decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Can I just say? In my whole year of working, this might be the only case where I really empathized with my client."

Minho moves his hand away from him and grumbles something under his breath. P doesn't hear it properly but it goes along the lines of "I don't need empathy, don't act like you care".

When they get to his room, the spirit is quick to take a leave, leaving Minho alone in his cold room. At least he has his cats. He has them because of Y/N's kind heart knew he needs them.

At least, maybe she still cares a little.

The formula is the same this morning. So much that Minho knows he isn't going to work and is still trapped in this weird loop of exploring his life. He doesn't bother dressing properly nor bringing what he needs for his job. He doesn't even change his cats' water.

The moment he walks in his workplace, it doesn't even take him a second to spot the ghost of his future. It's Jisung this time. Well, not him exactly.

"Hello, my name is-"

"F, I suppose? For future?"

The spirit, stunned, slowly nods. "Usually, people are happy to see me."

"I had a long night, buddy. Just show me what you have to show me and I can move on with my life."

F doesn't argue with him and he leads him to the elevator when he presses the button 30 right away. "We'll do the quick version since you're in such a rush. I would have gone through 26 beforehand but-"

"What happens next year?" Minho interrupts him.

"No, you want this to be quick. I respect that. It's Christmas anyway, I can make an exception."

"What happens next year?" he repeats.

F smiles knowingly before glancing at the button 26. Minho, hesitantly, goes ahead to press it himself to which the ghost responds with a satisfied smirk. Before he knows it, they already reached the level.

As the doors open, Minho soon recognizes Jeongin's penthouse. Looks like that year's Christmas is settled to be at his place. Jeongin is alone with Changbin as they seem to be preparing food and drinks for the guests they are expecting. It is soon confirmed when Jisung walks in without knocking, alongside with his girlfriend. In the following minutes, each of his friends, sometimes with a significant lover, come inside and the party gets louder and merrier. However, after Hyunjin arrived, it dawns on him that his future version himself won't take part on that year's dinner.

Just like the previous year.

After chatting some more about what they are up to in their lives (nothing much other than Felix getting married but everyone knows as they attended the ceremony), Changbin calls everyone for dinner and they sit around Jeongin's dinner table.

"Can I make the toast this year?" Jisung asks, earning looks from his friends.

"You did last year, I say our host of the night does it," Seungmin suggests and they all seem to agree.

So, a bit uncomfortable still, Jeongin gets up with his glass of wine in hands. "Thank you for another year of our usual Christmas party. I'm really glad all of you were able to come. Of course, we still have a thought for our Minho who won't be joining us, yet again, tonight." The guests exchange glances in agreement and let the youngest continue. "Merry Christmas and let's enjoy our meal!"

They cling their glasses together, wishing a merry Christmas to one another, and don't lose another second to attack their plates. Although it pains him to not see himself enjoy the feast with them, Minho is somewhat happy. At least, they still have each other.

"Why couldn't he make it, anyway?" Chan asks around the table, looking at anybody who might have the answer.

The only person to answer is, unsurprisingly, Jisung. "The last time I saw him was in September and he said he had some issues with the cats. I don't know if he was making up excuses but he seemed to be alright."

"It was a miracle he even showed up for my wedding," Felix scoffs, making Minho huff. "An even bigger miracle was that he didn't make a scene when he saw Y/N there."

"They left together, no?"

What Seungmin just said gives him some kind of hope. Wanting to be sure he would hear every detail, he gets closer to his friend who continues to speak on the matter.

"I know they drank a lot but has someone seen what they were doing?"

"He was cuddly," Jisung answers. "No, clingy as hell. Poor Y/N who had to drive him home."

"They could have made up then?" Chan questions and Jisung nods.

"But we all know him, he missed his chance to fix things again."

"I really thought inviting both of them would have put an end to their mishaps," Felix sighs, discouraged. "I'll send Minho a message later."

"We could call him all together?" Chan suggests but by the reactions of everybody, this is not an option.

Just like that, they change subject and continue to discuss cheerfully about everything and anything. F gives a sad smile to the man, who watches the scene feeling beaten. There must have something really wrong with him that his closest friends wouldn't even wish him a merry Christmas.

"Where am I while all of this is happening?" he asks the ghost.

Carefully, he is transported away from the penthouse and directly to his apartment. The moment he takes in the sight of his place, he sees how nothing much changed in a year. Everything is still where it was during the present year.

His hair is longer, he notices. Not only that but he grew a bit of a beard, a choice he questions a little. His cats are still doing their thing, none of them appear to be sick. What particularly catches his attention is the glass filled with a bright yellow liquor that is set next to him as he scrolls down through his feed on his tablet.

Is he drinking? He does have a few occasions where he'll consume alcohol but a glass full of whiskey is new.

Soonie jumps on the counter and, unlike what Minho would automatically do as of right now, his future self pushes the cat off. He gasps in horror and runs to catch his pet. Only, he did forget he isn't actually there and that things pass through his body. Fortunately, Soonie is fine.

"I should text her, at least," he hears himself say.

The man he sees is far from being remotely close to what he is. Hair messy, tie loosened and a beer belly growing; he wonders what caused him to let himself reach this point.

Future Minho opens his e-mail app and clicks on New Message. He is quick to find Y/N's e-mail address, which real Minho takes as a sign he must have done the same more than once in the last year. He tries to read what he is typing but the amount of typos is quite overwhelming. Despite that, he manages to make out a somewhat coherent note.

___

Hey,

I know I should probably not be writing this but it is Christmas today so, merry Christmas. Remember how we used to go out with the others and play stupid games until late? Then, we'd come home and I'd make you a hot chocolate before going to be? You remember all of that, don't you?

I miss it, and I miss you. I know I said I'll stop writing but you broke my heart, Y/N. How can I forget and ignore what happened? You left so suddenly for no reason. I should be furious, maybe I am. No, I know I am. I still can't help myself but longing for you.

Have a jolly holiday, even if it's without me,

Min xox

___

"Wow, that's pathetic," Minho breathes out after reading. He turns to face F and frowns. "That's a year from now?"

"Precisely."

"No, it can't be. I'm alright, I moved on."

F visibly tries to contain himself from speaking on that, but he can't. "You're one oblivious man."

"I am okay!"

F scoffs. "Sure. Now, shall we visit you at 30 years old? It's Christmas and I have others plans after this."

Minho keeps finding it ridiculous how these ghosts continue to act as if they are actual people. He's still dreaming, why would he bother imagining spirits with personalities?

He is soon led to the actual elevator of his apartment building where F presses the button quickly. Once the level reached, the doors open to a beautiful wedding reception, leaving Minho confused. He does not know anybody other than Felix, who is supposedly already married by then, who is engaged.

The two men walk around the room, recognizing a few faces, and Minho finally spots himself sitting with his friends. At least he isn't alone, he tells himself. He goes straight ahead to observe the scene where he is obviously bored and sick of being there. He does notice how his appearance seem much better than before with gel in his hair and a tuxedo well ironed on.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Chan asks him in a concerned voice.

"Stop with that, I'd leave if I wasn't fine," Minho rolls his eyes.

"You haven't spoken to her, though."

"You really are good at observing, Chan," Minho responds in a mocking way and the older man simply sighs.

Suddenly, the entirety of the room begins to cheer loudly and clap. Minho tries to follow their gaze to find out who they were waiting for. After moving around to see through the dozens of head, he finally spots her. And him.

Y/N. It's her wedding. And she invited him of all people?

His brain short-circuits and he feels his heart pounding faster and faster. He can't think properly anymore, the only thing he can vividly see is her. How she smiles at every single person who congratulates her. How she clings onto this man as if her life depended on it. But most importantly, he sees how her smile just gets sadder when her eyes stop on him.

He knows time stops for the two of them before they walk towards each other. He knows so many things are still left unsaid. Gaining back his consciousness, he follows himself to watch what is about to happen.

She hugs him, a bit awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd come. Thank you."

"Congratulations," Minho says, retracting from the hug as fast as he can. "You two make a fine couple."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "Look, Min-" she starts but Minho shakes his head.

"Don't, it's okay. Enjoy your day."

Grateful, she sends him one last smile and moves to thank other guests. Chan, at this point, can do nothing else but pat his friend's shoulder. Surprisingly, Minho doesn't budge. He does, however, let one single drop fall from his eye.

"That's it?" he exclaims, now looking at F. "I'm not even trying? I just gave up? What even happened between then and that moment?"

"I've shown you plenty, you can figure it out by yourself," F says calmly and then begins to walk back to the metal box.

Minho, refusing this as an answer, runs to join him hastily. "Who's this guy, anyway?"

"Does it really matter? You two are not together anymore."

"Yes, if it can help me to prevent this."

"So you don't want her to be happy?" F perks an eyebrow making Minho groan in frustration.

"I'm asking you what I need to do to change this. It can't be like this. I'm the one who's supposed to marry her."

F smirks as they walk in the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor and finally looks at the man. "You know what has to be done, you're just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Oh, please. Stop with the act. How has the last year really been like for you?"

Minho gulps, already feeling himself choke up. "I-" he starts. "It's been hell."

F nods. "What else?"

"Y/N was right, as she always is... I'm the one who lost myself with time. I did want to marry her and I did not think she was obnoxious. Certainly not..."

He starts to cry, heavily this time. There is no more hiding or denying, he just said it all out loud. Regrets and pain, that's what's been eating him. He sobs as everything finally hits him so brutally. He lost Y/N for good. Or he will lose her for good if he keeps acting the way he does.

And his friends, the only people who stick with him through everything. The ones he keeps pushing away in fear of himself.

"You're home," the spirit says, interrupting the moment.

Minho doesn't hesitate to crash into his bed and sob some more. Even if F wanted to leave so badly, he doesn't think he should just yet. Cursing at himself, he comes to sit on the bed and pats the back of the broken man.

"It's alright, let it all out. You've had a rough night."

Minho hiccups and sniffles before glaring at the ghost. "No shit."

"You know, I think you can fix this."

Minho shrugs. "I've been horrible to everyone."

"You acknowledge it, that's a start. From there, only you can decide how things will be." F looks at his watch for a second and gasps. "I'm late for my next human! Good luck with everything."

Minho doesn't watch him leave. He is still crying but he has no more energy. He desperately wants to wake up, but mostly, he wants to see Y/N.

Minho doesn't wake up until the later morning. With the dream he just had, the sleep deprived guy seriously needed more than eight hours of resting. He does miss out work but, honestly, is not bothered the slightest. In fact, he is grateful he won't be working today.

After feeding Soonie, Doongie and Dori, he determines he should catch up on the gifts he planned on offering to his friends. Walking to his home office, he pulls out the wrapping paper he hadn't touched in a while and begins to wrap each and every single one of the presents he bought. He is definitely happy to have made some purchases the day he went shopping with Chan.

The task does grow tiring and boring after a while. To keep himself motivated, he plugs in his speaker to play some music and hums alongside the lyrics. He hasn't done that for a long time. As he is about to skip the current song playing on his playlist, his solo karaoke session is interrupted by a call coming in.

Not bothering to look at the contact, he answers happily. "Merry Christmas, you joined Lee Minho. How can I help you?"

The other side of the line is silent but he can hear that there is someone. Frowning, he repeats himself to encourage the person to talk.

"Minho, it's Changbin."

"Oh, hey! How are you doing? I was about to call you to ask what you wanted me to bring for tonight."

He senses that his friend is quite taken aback and he smiles proudly to himself.

"You're coming?"

"Unless I wasn't invited-"

"No, no," Changbin cuts him. "You're always welcomed, you know that. I'd just expected you to say you have work or something."

"I was supposed to clock in but I didn't feel like going to the office. Oh, by the way, can I ask a favor from you?"

"Uh, yeah, go ahead..." Changbin replies, skeptical.

"I know you're still in contact with Y/N."

Changbin, on his side, freezes. "How did you- Min, I swear we all wanted to tell you-"

"I'm not mad. I just wanted to know if you could possibly invite her and Deena for dinner, please? Don't tell them I'll be there, though."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I want it to be a surprise."

He doesn't say anything for a minute, processing what is happening. "Then, I'll invite them and say you aren't coming."

"Good! See you tonight! And tell your girlfriend I'm excited to meet her!"

He doesn't let Changbin question him on how he learned about his girlfriend and hangs up. Resuming to his activity, he stops when he sees Soonie playing with wrapping paper. Filming him, he coos at him before giving him loving scratches.

"I won't ever hurt you, I promise," he tell his cat, recalling what happened in his dream.

When he has finished with wrapping his gifts, he goes to his closet to find an appropriate attire for the night. For the last year, he hadn't wore anything other than work clothes and sweats. The nice shirt Y/N once bought him catches his attention. The dark green buttoned blouse seem to be a perfect match for his black clean pants. He changes fast and does not forget to add a few pieces of jewelry to finish his look.

He is all set to go. But one look at himself in the mirror at his entrance stops him for a moment. It suddenly clicks that he is a couple hours away from seeing Y/N again, for real this time. Although terrified, he has found some peace with it from the events of the previous night. He wants to make things right.

And one thing he can do just now is call his parents, the ones he has been ignoring for a year. He did expect his mother to cry but certainly not his father. Both incite him to come to his hometown in the following days and he can't refuse the invite. Not when they are begging with their puppy eyes.

"I'll come for New Year's, does it sounds okay?"

His mother nods vigorously through the screen of his phone. "Will Y/N be coming with you?"

He might have left out that he isn't with her anymore. Seeing the look on his parents' faces, he does not have the heart to tell them yet. Instead, he goes with a safe answer.

"I'll see with her if she can clear her schedule, but no promise."

"Tell her she's always welcomed here whenever. Merry Christmas, son!" his father wishes him adoringly.

He smiles, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "Merry Christmas to you two!"

And he hangs up.

Before going to Changbin's place, he doesn't forget to stop at the Christmas market to pay his friend, Hyunjin, a visit. Mentally preparing himself to face a pissed off Chan, he strolls between the booths and stops at a few of them. Some are selling soaps, a lot of them in fact. Others sell clothes they crocheted themselves and a few offer samples of their baked goods.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin's golden locks are easily found from afar. Minho also spots Chan, Seungmin and Felix. He has a heavy case of déjà-vu when he sees the four of them discuss with frowns on their faces.

Discreetly, he walks towards his friends who don't take knowledge of his presence yet. That is until he arrives right behind Felix.

"-stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers," the man is telling the others, oblivious that Minho is hearing everything.

Seungmin gulps and nods his head towards him but Felix cluelessly frowns. Hyunjin does the same which finally makes him turn around and come face to face with Minho. His eyes grow twice their sizes and his mouth opens slightly in shock.

"Hi, Yongbok," Minho says, unbothered. "Cute puppies you got, Hwang."

Hyunjin smiles, thankful. "Do you want to pet one? I've got this chihuahua that looks like Kkami."

He doesn't have the time to answer when a small dog is suddenly placed in his arms. With no complaint, he pets the puppy affectionately. The four men look at him, rather confused, and say nothing. They simply have no idea on how to react to this.

"Minho, what I said about Y/N- She- Uh... We-" Felix stammers out his words but Minho interrupts him.

"I know and it's all good. She is your friend too, I can't be mad at her for wanting to keep you all around."

"I see you've made some thinking," Chan finally speaks up, eyes stern.

"You can say that... I'm sorry about the other day, you were right. I shouldn't have shut you out of my life," he admits, much to his own surprise.

"Apology accepted," Chan grins. "A little birdie told me you asked Changbin to invite Y/N and Deena for dinner."

Seungmin's eyes lit up. "So you changed your mind? You'll come?"

Minho huffs. "I never said I wouldn't come."

Hyunjin sneers. "I know someone who'll be ecstatic about that."

The girl paces the floor nervously, biting her nails as she waits for her sister to arrive. Even if Changbin assured to her that her ex-fiancé wouldn't be attending the party, she can't help but feel like he will find out. She already feels guilty for keeping contact with his friends, who knows how he would react if he learns she went to celebrate Christmas with them.

As Deena finally walks in the apartment, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Finally!"

Her sister rolls her eyes. "It took me barely five minutes to get here."

"Still," she chuckles sheepishly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"What would you do without me?" she exclaims dramatically. "For real, it's very nice for them to invite you. Especially after last year. Plus, it's better than our sappy sister date night."

Y/N lets out a small laugh but resumes automatically to biting down her lower lip in nervousness. Deena notices it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she rushes her to leave, saying they will be late otherwise.

In the car, Y/N can't wait any longer. She has worries and needs to let them out or she'll go mad.

"What if Minho ends up showing up?"

Deena gives her a look but answers nonetheless. "He won't. And if he does, he'll have to suck it up and be an adult about you being there."

"Do you think he'll get mad when he discoverd that I still talked with the guys?"

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, it's not your problem to deal with! He's the one being a little bitch. Besides, you're not with him anymore."

"It doesn't mean I want to hurt him... and..."

She doesn't complete her sentence since she knows Deena must have understood right away. Y/N is still hopelessly in love with Minho. As much as she believes that leaving was the right thing to do, there were so many instances where she tried to convince herself that he'd change if she goes back to him.

She knows, deep down, she might be right on that.

"I can't believe you're actually here with actual presents!" Jisung almost yells as he brings his friend into a warm hug.

Hyunjin scoffs. "Let the man breathe! See, Min? I told you."

Minho taps Jisung's back a few times as to tell him to let go but he refuses, tightening the embrace. Jeongin is the one to break them apart to be the next in line to hug Minho. Everyone is baffled by his change of heart but they look past it and are simply grateful to have gotten their friend back.

"So? Is she coming?" Minho asks Changbin once he greeted everybody one by one.

"She confirmed she is."

Chan frowns and takes him by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to talk to her?"

"Things were left unsaid, I need to clear this out once and for all."

Ding dong.

Oh. Now things are getting a bit too real, and panic begins to settle throughout his entire body. With once glance exchanged with Chan, it somehow reassures him. Still with his heart beating fast, he retreats himself behind the group as Changbin goes ahead to open the door.

She looks just like he remembers, stunning. There is, however, a hint of something he can't quite understand. She is paler and shyer. Past that, she is the same. While hugging everyone with her bright smile on her face, she shines. Minho is not too sure if he wants to ruin her brightness by letting his presence known. Looking around nervously, we wonders if this was a bad idea after all.

Before he can escape, he hears his name being called from afar; Jisung. Cursing at him mentally, Minho steps aside from behind Hyunjin and waves, embarrassed.

To no one's surprise, there is a moment of awkwardness settled in the room. While Minho is too ashamed to look back at her, Y/N can't rip her gaze away from him. She can't believe he is actually there. She has to make a mental note for later to smack Changbin for lying to her.

The moment is interrupted by Deena, thankfully. "Hey, Minho! I didn't think you'd be here."

"Hi Deena," he replies in a small voice.

This seems to be enough for the others to resume to their thing: Changbin taking his guests' coats to the other room while his girlfriend offers drinks, Deena putting the presents under the Christmas tree, Chan's wife and Felix's girlfriend sitting in a corner to discuss... Y/N, however, does not budge. Not until everyone leaves the entrance, revealing Minho standing in front of her.

"You dyed your hair?" he finally says, more or less to break the weird tension between the two.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through her longs brown locks. "I did, I thought a change might be good."

He nods as he puts his hands in his pockets, rocking his body back and forth. Now what? He knows he wants to talk about the obvious, but how?

"You're wearing that shirt," she points out with a smile. "It fits you well."

"Thank you. Your dress is cute."

"Thanks. I haven't wore this in a while."

"In a dress or not, you're cute either way."

She blushes. It's not as bad as she thought, they can at least do small talk. Still, this is far from being what she was used to with him. It suddenly snaps in her mind how much she missed him.

"I'll go get a drink, you're welcomed to come along," she offers which makes Minho smile.

Changbin's girlfriend makes no complaint when Minho asks her to make a specific drink, one Y/N would always get when they were together. It does not get unnoticed by the latter and she is amazed he remembers such details even after not speaking to each other for a whole entire year.

"You seem to be doing good," he comments once they get a hold of their alcoholic drinks.

"I'm not too bad. I joined a new law firm and, hopefully, they'll let me work on a case on my own."

It pains him to know she is still struggling with work, this was never an issue for him. "One day, someone will recognize your competence."

"Easy for you to say. I've heard you climbed status and have your own office?"

"Which one of the boys told you that?"

By the look on her face, he has managed to surprise her. "So you know."

He takes a sip of his glass and shrugs. "It did hurt a little that nobody told me but it's alright. You needed them as much as I did."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm the jerk here. I pushed you away to the point you left and after you did, I was so close to losing all of my friends. You did nothing wrong."

She moves her head to the side, unsure on how to react. "We both made mistakes."

He scoffs. "Maybe, but you have to admit I did things way worse than you."

"It's alright, we're okay now. It wasn't meant to be."

His heart tightens and he scoffs once more. "What if it was?"

"Minho-"

"No, Y/N, listen to me for this one. Please." The gleam in his eyes convinces her and she nods for him to continue. "I don't know exactly what happened, it might be work, but I lost myself at some point. I never thought weddings were bullshit, not once in my life. My dream the moment I met you was to put a ring on your finger."

Minho stops himself and gives a scan around to make sure nobody is watching. He is thankful when he realizes his friends are busy with watching a funny video on Felix's phone. With no hesitation, he takes Y/N's hand and moves her sleeve up to reveal her engagement ring, still beautifully worn on her finger. Embarrassed, she is quick to retract her hand back in hiding. How did he know if she has been hiding it as soon as she saw him?

"And I think you might still want that."

Her eyes get watery when she forces herself to stare back at him. "This year has been... a lot. I was not ready to remove it just yet and, I guess I just got used to wearing it."

Although tempted to correct her as he know the truth, Minho does not insist any more. Instead, he sends her a look that says he understands. Almost as if it was planned, Chan calls everyone in the living room to open the presents and to, as they do every year, make a toast.

It takes a few minutes until everyone is sat and silent but once they seem good to go, Chan nods his head at Minho. "Why don't you do the honours this year, Min?"

"Oh, um..."

"I think it won't be appropriate if it is anybody else other than you," Seungmin adds to which the others seem to agree on.

Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat and clears his throat. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I've been acting. I was going through a lot and I shouldn't have imposed it on you, I'm sorry. Second of all, thank you all for sticking by my side although I was a total asshole."

"Heck yeah, you are," he hears Changbin jokingly respond.

"Something else I want to mention," he continues, ignoring his friend, "is how much regret I've felt this year. Y/N?"

All eyes move to her figure by the mention of her name. She looks at Minho, feeling a bit intimidated, but smiles to let him know she wants him to go on.

"I've never loved anyone else more than I have with you. I am aware things were not ideal but you brought the best out of me. I'm sorry I had to be the one ruining this for us. I love you still and I can only wish you the best from now on." He gives the others a last glance before raising his glass. "Thank you Changbin for hosting this year's party, and merry Christmas!"

Even though the entire room cheers and applauds in response to Minho's sweet speech, Y/N is not mentally there anymore. Her mind going wild, she can't think straight other than what Minho has said. She undeniably still loves him, more than she'd like to admit. But is she ready to let him in again?

"Hey," Deena calls her out, shaking her away from her thoughts. "You might want to figure some things out with lover boy."

Her face grows red. "You think so?"

"He just left outside to go for a walk but I'm sure he isn't too far yet. Go join him."

"I don't know..."

"Y/N, stop being in denial. You still love him, he still loves you, he obviously wants you back... Just go get him already."

Slightly intimidated by her sister, she doesn't need to be told twice to go grab her coat and boots, and walk out the door. She expected for him to be at least further away on the street but it is definitely a surprise to see him sitting down on the porch. His back facing her, she quietly approaches him and sits beside him.

There is a moment of quietness before he finally looks at her. "It's snowing."

She chuckles. "Thank you for the info, Mr. Obvious."

They share a laugh and both go back to watching the snowflakes fall. It's calm and peaceful, Minho loves it. It painfully reminds him of many occurrences where they'd watch outside the window for no reason on snow days.

"That was a good speech you just made."

He smirks. "I know."

His playful demeanor is something she doesn't remember seeing in the last moments of their relationship. It feels nice to see him back, as himself.

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

He frowns. "The part about regrets? Yeah, I mean, I was an ass and it didn't help me getting better so... I just know I want to fix it."

She shakes her head. "Not just that. The part about still loving me."

He moves his eyes from the snow to her own and she looks at him expectedly. She is so pure, he hates himself from even thinking he had hurt her. Carefully, he takes her hands in his and sets himself just a bit closer to her while still giving her space. He feels the sweat on his forehead, waiting for either getting rejected or getting the love of his life back. Either way, he has to say it. He's been putting it off for too long.

"I meant every word I said, I still and will always love you. How can I not? You're sensitive, smart, beautiful, and so caring. You always put me before yourself. So far, you were ready to give up your cats so I could have them because you knew I needed them."

"Minho-"

"No, you don't get to interrupt me until I'm finally done saying what I have to say. Y/N, never once did I think you were obnoxious. You see beauty in everything, something I'm incapable of doing and that's what bugged me. It bothered me how you are so perfect while I am not even close to be as loving as you are."

She scoffs with a knowing smile pending on her lips. "Now, I'll have to cut you here. You don't see yourself how I see you, Minho. Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place? You have your own little ways of showing affection, each cuter than the other. I don't mind the rest because I know you do love me."

"I hurt you," he argues sadly.

"And I forgive you, just as long as you don't do it again," she grins, tightening her grasp on his hands.

Minho raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You forgive me... As in-"

"Don't make me say it, I have my own pride too."

Minho wipes away his tears he hadn't realized were starting to fall on his face and doesn't lose another second to bring her close to him and crash his lips onto hers. They're just like he remembered and maybe better, sweet and soft. At that point, both of them are crying. Only this time, it's not because they are hurting. So many feelings are said through the kiss and not a single one is coming from pain. It's sereine and warm, Minho can feel his whole body get lighter.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he says when they break away, holding her close to his chest. "I'm never letting you go again."

"You better," she chuckles through a sniff.

The door behind them opens wide with more than seven pairs of eyes on them. Minho blushes while Y/N hides herself in the crook of his neck.

"So we good? Everything is sorted out? Please, the food is ready and I'm starving," Jisung complains, receiving a smack from Changbin.

"You're not starving and let them have their moment!"

Jeongin sighs. "I think the moment was already ruined.

The couple, who are still sitting, explode in laughter before getting up and joining their friends in the warmth of their home where Changbin's girlfriend has selected a nice Christmas playlist to complete the ambiance. Music Minho recognizes to be Y/N's favourites. A coincidence? Probably but he likes to believe it isn't.

While the boys congratulate him for being back together with his love, Minho looks outside through the window one last time. He isn't too sure if what he sees is right but four figures seem to look at him proudly.

While nobody is watching, he mouthes a "thank you" before the silhouettes fade away in the wind.

Minho still doesn't know to this day if what happened that night was real or not. One thing for sure is he can't be any more thankful for these spirits. Most importantly, he is finally in a happy place.

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