#fall/winter. they call it spring term but uh. it's barely in spring

[autumnoakes]

i just got asked if i was job seeking for the fall (for co-op) like boi.... slow down..... we haven't even gotten past finals in spring yet......

[zhongyeet-me-to-the-moon]

Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat.Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in heat. Gorou in h---

Every time I thikn of heat I think of that furry phase I narrowly missed cause 2 of my friends in jr high were furries (literally went to school walking around between classes with a tail) and I refused to get into it lol.

Gorou x gn!reader (reader top though so)

Type: bullet points and story

warnings: It's just smut bro. Sub!bottom!gorou, soft dom!top reader. Specifics are under cut.

If yoy want gorou in rut lemme know 👌👌

No matter how many times I read over my work I will always miss typos/grammatical errors and I apologize

ALT

Specific nfsw content: praise kink (use of good boy and other doggy terms, implied reader has a dick but tried writing it so it can be seen as getting pegged as well. Begging, thigh riding, coming untouched, slight overstim. Eating out (gorou recieving) teasing, slight breeding kink if you squint hard enough.

..

So before yall are dating Gorou was good at hiding his heats from the army

It actually just became less intense to the point it was barely noticeable due to lack of visual stimulation. He considered everyone he works with as family too quickly to see them that way.

But then you joined the army and a dam burst. The first to join in a longgggg time.

Yall fellow pot heads know how you haven't had a pot brownie in forever so you kinda forget how long it takes for it to kick in so you continue to eat more. And you're like "Did I not put enough weed in it?.....oh shit, OH SHI--"

He didn't get it immediately I think heats are periodic, like 2 times a year one in spring and one in fall. Or if someone is physically trying to come onto them and they do reciprocate.

So when you first join it wasnt during that period, maybe winter when the war is on a periodic still for being too cold to fight healthily. Because of this he thought you were cute but he'd learn to just love you like family like he did everyone else.

but when spring finally came around and you walked into breakfast without your armour on (you're still in the under clothing lol this isn't an exhibitionist fic sorry) It's game over bro.

A year of lack of visual and physical stimulation hit him all at once. It starts with his tail twitching, then you stretch your arms on the table like a cat revealing a bit too much of your chest, now he's blushing, his ears are down casted as the heat builds up.

"General gorou? You doing ok?"

"Hm? Oh I...Uh...." He didn't even register your words cause it's getting really dizzy and he's getting tunnel vision trying to look anywhere but your chest. "I...Should go see when delivery for our next shipment of supplies are coming!"

Avoids you for the rest of the heat (I imagine it last like a week-2weeks max). It dies down a bit cause he knows how to manage it but the second he sees you it's like he's a horny teen again and can't make eye contact with the person he just jerked off to (lol)

First couple times he does manage to control himself till its gone for the time being, just cause this man's wayyyy too shy to do anything about it.

But it does get harder and harder, silently calling himself an idiot for thinking he was a pro at hiding it before. No sir you just had nothing to jerk off to till now. Now you do and you're FUCKED.

One month he knows an especially hard one is coming and he's caving in the weeks to come in nervousness. He feels manipulative finally working up the courage to ask you out solely so he can get you to fuck him but....at this point he's desperate.

He asked you out 3 weeks before his heat. 3 weeks is enough time to get to know someone to want to ..... bed them right?? Surely theyd like me enough to do that....right? Oh shit are they even a top????

Now he has a whole other thing to worry about (lol 2x)

General gorou did not show to dinner, and he didn't show to his night patrol shift either. You being his s/o, got asked to check on him. You wondered maybe with how busy his schedule has been as of late, the stress probably gave him a cold. So you prepared some soup and a loaf of bread, as well as some herbal tea to soothe any groggyness/headache he might have. Meds were scarce at the moment on the camp so this just had to do st the moment till you lettered Kokomi for the supplies.

"Gorou? You doing alright hun?" You tap your foot on a stump that laid in front of Gorous tent, used as a makeshift door knocker since...well its a tent.

"D---dont come in y/n! Im...not doing so well." He said on the other side, his voice ragged and breathing heavy. He was second guessing himself now, felt guilty about his reasoning to ask you out. He did like you, but he realized the night before that 3 weeks wasn't enough time to ask someone to do something like this for you. First times together should be romantic and come naturally. Not when your high out of your mind on horny hormones.

"Ok, well I have some food and tea that could help, can I at least come in to bring it to you?"

".......that......should be fine." You walk in, his body laying on his cot completely covered with a blanket. His tail stook out and twitched left and right with each step you took closer. You sat on a small stool beside him and set the soup down next to his bedside table. "You d-dont have to stay. I wouldn't want you.....getting....affected by this because of m-me." He whispered,muffled slightly due to the covers still over him.

"Gorou can you even sit up to eat this?"

"I'll be fine..i promise."

"So stubborn" You pout, gently grabbing the covers and pulling them out of the way. Gorou yelped a bit at the sudden sight of you, face flushed mistaken to you by the cold, but his pupils were blown out which made you a bit confused. Maybe it's a canine-person symptom when they get sick? "Cmon, lemme help you sit up." You reach over to grab his arm and other to place onto the small of his back.

"Ah!" He moaned slightly, taking you both by surprise as he sat up on his own and jerked away. "I think....you should go now y/n."

"What? Gorou whats--"

"As your general is imperative to state the importance of getting a good night's sleep and.....and..." his eyes are darting around the room, shaky hands clutching the covers over his groin area to hide everything.

"Gorou....are you...what's it called?" You pause for a moment to gather your thoughts. "In a rut?"

Oh no. He just blushes more out of embarassment, looking down at his hands. If only it was a rut, maybe this conversation would be less awkward if he was the one that wanted to mate, not be mated. The manliness he felt in himself waning at the thought of you being disappointed he's not a top. Ever so slightly he shakes his head. "Not a rut." He whimpers out, but the way he's practically trembling now from anxiety more than the ailment was telling enough.

Oh? Oh. It clicked in your head, knowing a bit of the difference between a rut and a heat. If it wasn't a rut, then it must be that. "Well whatever it is," you start, picking your words carefully as not to make him any more embarassed, "You know as your s/o that Im able to help right?"

"I can't ask you to do that y/n. This...isn't how I wanted it to be." That was a lie. He definitely planned this but he didn't want them to think that was the only reason he asked them out. You quietly stand up and take a seat next to him on the cot, him jumping at the sudden dip and closness, instantly leaning his head in and closing his eyes as your hand goes to cup his cheek. Archons it felt so nice, he thought.

"You don't have to ask me love, I'm offering. Can you look at me Gorou?" He opens his eyes, grimacing slightly at how much just looking at you had an effect on him. I'm so dirty, he thought. " you cup the other side of his face, and gave him a genuine smile. "My good boy. Can I help you?"

Gorou gulps at the nick name, pausing in awe at you before finally removing the covers from his bottom half, a noticeable tent in size and discoloration from pre already leaking. You peck him on the nose and adjust him so Gorou is straddling you. The second your hands grab his waist he's Hunching forward slightly at the contact, and immediately trying to stop himself from bucking when he puts his full weight down on your thigh. "It's ok puppy, let yourself go." You encourage, whispering it close to his ear, and beginning to kiss his neck. He still tried to stifle his moans, but the second your chest met his to angle your head right, he was bucking like crazy. Riding your thigh in slowly growing ferver, the harder sucks on his neck earning you moans he couldn't keep in.

"Ah...ah ugh..hah...y/n...ah! Ahhh Im...i" his pace quickened more, you helped out by pushing his hips down more on your thigh. He doesn't have time to finish the sentence. He rest his head on your shoulder and keens in your ear and comes. Shaking and twitching slightly from the after shocks of you still grinding his hips down.

"Want more love?" You ask, petting his head, intentionally playing with his ears. You feel him nod, too blissed out to speak at the moment. "Hm? I'm sorry I didn't hear you? Maybe that was enough." You stop your petting and his head immediately shoots up to look at you, biting his lip and eyes full of desperation. He whines a bit,grabbing your hands to put them back on his waist, but you intertwined them together instead. "Use your words Gorou."

He looks down slightly, eyes moving between your lips and eyes. "I...I...please."

"Please what?"

"Please I....I ache...I need you y/n....in...inside."

You smile, giving him a deep kiss, parting your lips so he can slip his tongue in and yourself moaning and giggling at his desperation. In between breaths you help him remove his pants. You look down and laugh at the soaked fabric, "real pent up huh?"

"D-dont laugh!" You kiss him again.

"It's ok love. I'm here to help now." You move to rest on your stomach with your head directly in front of Gorous dick, it wasn't too large, just slightly above average at 7 inches and not any thicker than anyone else, but it curved slightly inwards and was blushing a cute shade of pink like his face. You give the tip a kiss, it twitching in rhythm with his tail. You begin to clean up the cum left over on his dick and abdomen where it smeared due to being stuck in his pants. All the while your dominate hand slowly beginning to finger his tight little hole. "Lube?" You ask.

"E..everything you need is in the bedside table."

You try to stop a giggle, your thoughts trailing off imagining Gorou pleasuring himself, trying to stay quiet so no one heard him release, or quickly fixing himself and covering up when someone interupts. You lean over to the drawer and pull the items out, meanwhile Gorou finally removes his shirt and begins helping you remove your clothes as well. Something about helping you out of your clothes felt more intimate than the festivities you just did with him. He took it slow despite his need, watching your arms rise and your chest slowly come Into view. "So perfect." He whispered, earning a blush from you this time.

You place your hands on his chest, slowly rubbing before giving them a gentle squeeze,"Not so bad yourself there." He scoffed at the assertiveness,rolling his eyes as you gave a cheeky wink. You lean back down, he produced a wetness all on his own but you wanted be sure you weren't hurting him. Slowly lubibg your fingers up and putting 2 in before continuing to lick his penis, slowly getting lower to suck his left ball, then his right.before eventually you were low enough to get your tongue right at his ring. "Turn around for me babe."

He listened, getting on all fours, hips bucking as you place both hands on his pretty round ass, not a bubble butt persay. Years of training making it toned and chisled, but definitely bigger than normal. You lean down to kiss a particularly big scar that went from his lower back and angled down his left check.. Your tongue re enters, licking at his folds and searching for that one spot. When a quick yelp and a tug forward finally escapes Gorous lips,you knew you found it. Unfortunately your tongue wasn't long enough to his it completely, just enough to scrape it. But you continued none the less, messaging and squeezing Gorous butt in tandem, also to keep him for Jerking his hips back too much.

You quickly fell love with the needy whines he made when you teased him. You didn't consider yourself much a dom,a top maybe, but taking the lead in intimate relations didn't really cross your mind. For gorou though, seeing him whine and moan, sweat tangling his fur and tail wagging and twitching with each touch, you'd gladly take the reigns every time.

"Not- not enough. Y/n please. I need it already!"

You remove your mouth, giving his butt a quick little nip before getting on your knees to line yourself up. "Ready love?" He doesn't answer, just whines and rubs your length between his ass, trying to get it to hook inside. To continue your teasing you lean back a bit, earning more whines,right as he was about to turn his head around in confusion you pushed the entire length in in one go. He screamed, "aahhhughhhmmmm!!!" Quickly covering his mouth in fear someone outside the tent heard that. "Ahh ! Mmm--- y/n. So...ssssho"

"So, what, love?" You emphasized each with pulling mostly out before just the tip remained,and jamming it quickly back in before the next word.

"Shoo...shoo.. GuUudD. Aah. L--wuv you." His words were slurring, he had a vice grip on the blanket crumpled in front of him. Trying desperately to match your rhythm and he bucks back to get you deeper.

"Love you to. My good boy, so tight just for me."

"Only for yew" He confirms. "More..Archons pweleAsE fill mwe moar!"

You just laugh,switching positions so his back was flush to your chest, lifting his thighs up so it could go in deeper. He quickly leaned his head back on your shoulder, yelps coming out of his mouth each thrust and tongue sticking out to smear his face in drool. You kiss his neck,he quickly turns his head over to kiss you. It's sloppy and he's too out of his mind to put real effort in it, but it was sweet none the less. One particularly hard thrust has him arching up," C-close! Y/N I..hah, ugh"

"Me to baby. Together with me now ok?" You thrust a few more time, deeper and harder each time. Before finally you both moaned in release, un hooking his thighs soon after, inadvertently having him sink a bit more on you due to his dead weight and Cumming more ropes out of him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling your head on his shoulder and leaning it against his. Gorous tongue was still sticking out, panting heavily as his drool dripped down his cum soaked chest. You waited til he began to soften to pull out. Soft groans left him. You grav a towel that was also in the drawer to help clean him, Gorou being too tired to do anything but rest his hands on the arm still wrapped around him, closing his eyes as his head rested beside yours.

"You calmed down now? No burning up?" You ask. He sighs contently and nods. You want to talk to him a bit more in length about how his heats work, but for now you were both too tired for lengthy conversations like that.

"Sorry." Goroy whispers, now more conscious, grip tightening on your hands still around his wwaist.

"Hm? What for?"

"Our first time should've been more romantic, not because of some condition I have where you had to do it."

You turn him around at that, putting a hand up to his chin so he could face you a better. "Gorou you didn't make me do anything. I didn't feel obligated, I felt like you needed me and I let you have me. Nothing was unconsentual, and I think it was very romantic to trust me with something like this." He blushes, eyes sparkling in awe at just how amazing you are, how easy those words of affirmation came out about a subject Gorous always been embarassed about.

"You want to...stay the the night tonight, cuddle with me?"

You kiss his cheek. "I'd love to."

[jkstompers]

a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

genre: arranged marriage but they wanna do it right!, best friends to lovers, royalty!au, FLUFF, crown princess!oc, prince!jk, surprises!, jk believes in soulmates confirmed, oc is so in love, perhaps jk flexes how rich he is in this ~(˘▾˘~)

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual tension, more talk of exes (both jk and oc’s), they both talk about losing their virginity, mild jealousy, mentions of menstrual cycles, a little bit of lip locking action

word count: 11.1k

author’s note: ♡ happy jungkook day! ♡ this chapter spans over a week and a half-ish! also i made a little oopsies in the last chapter when i said that oc had only been back in raemor for a week… it’s actually been a month since she’s left the city. i’m sorry about that! i changed it on an arrangement already, but i just figured it out when i was editing this chapter. other than that, i’m so excited for this series and i hope u all enjoy!! pls lmk what u think! ღ'ᴗ'ღ 

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

there was something in him that always knew that the love the two of you had ran way deeper than a friendship— probably more than a relationship too. it was something like a soul tie. something the stars created before the earth was ever created. two beings that were always meant to be together, in every universe, in every time before and after this. jungkook held his hope in that. his trust that the love the two of you forged was strong enough to pull you out of your room and into his arms before the plane took off.

the war between your head and your heart ended in a stalemate. you were fighting against something that you knew in your heart you wanted. your brain couldn’t make any more excuses to go against it when jungkook laid his heart out on the floor for you. you’d already made your decision before you went to sleep— before you even left jungkook’s grasp. but you were one for the dramatics.

the sound of the plane landing woke you, you were afraid you were too late. thinking that you slept in during a moment that could decide the rest of your life, you ran. bare feet smacking against the cold floor of the castle, before you eventually made it out to the garden and then the royal runway.

the sound of your voice that morning set it in stone. that jungkook will never love another the way he does you.

“jungkook!” you called out.

he was just about to board the plane for fenutar, jungkook and his advisors huddled into a circle to talk about customs and special etiquette since it’s been a while since he’s last visited. your shout interrupted the conversation. jungkook turned around immediately at the familiar voice.

the sight of you running through the cold, wet grass in your sleep wear with a winter coat and no shoes on. it makes his heart swell, with both love and worry. more so worry. “princess? what are you doing out here?! it’s freezing and you’re not even wearing the right clothes—”

you cut him off as you crash into his body for a tight hug. it felt right, it always did. “am i too late?” you ask, face snuggled into his warm chest.

he shakes his head, a little laugh accompanying the words. “you’re just in time.”

now, jungkook and you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling together. since seven in the morning, the two of you have just been talking about everything and nothing. mostly just appreciating each others presence. time passed quickly and it was almost time for everyone to start getting ready for breakfast. “so... how should we tell everyone? over breakfast?” you asked, pulling yourself on his chest and resting your cheek against his ribs.

he smiles at you. “sure, i heard they’re serving waffles, donuts— you know, sweet stuff.”

“and wouldn’t our news be so sweet?” you grinned. he laughs and you can feel his chest rise and fall under your head, the sound of his laughter just up against your ear. “should we go now?”

you move to get up, but jungkook stops you, placing a hand on your waist. “let’s stay here for a little bit longer.” he suggests, moving his hand up to run through your hair. “aren’t you tired from your dramatic show of affection this morning?” laughing as his fingers card through the strands of your hair. he combats your glare with a tender massage to your scalp. remembering how you’d always fall asleep whenever he did, and it worked. your eyelids fell and you melt against jungkook as he continues to rub your scalp gently.

love wasn’t scary. times like this, when it’s just you and jungkook; no expectations, no titles, no responsibilities. it’s just love. it wasn’t terrifying, it’s not painful. well, maybe it is sometimes. like how your heart beats out of your chest whenever jungkook looks at you, eyes glistening with admiration. like when you smile at jungkook and he feels like he could burst at any second just from the sight of you. love is hard to explain. love is whatever you make it out to be. and right now, love is in the curve of jungkook’s lips when he smiles at you. love is in the palm of your hand when you reach out to hold him.

the sound of the knocks on the door doesn’t register until the second round of taps. “princess, it is time for breakfast.” you hear from behind the door.

you sit up. “i’ll be right out!” trying to get out of bed but jungkook pulls you back.

“uh-uh,” he tsks. “you’re not dressed.” you furrow your eyebrows before you look down at what you’re wearing. a slip dress, the one you wore to sleep to be specific. “i won’t look, don’t worry.” he laughs, scooting himself up on your bed and covering his face with one of your pillows. he ignores how nice it smells, just like that shampoo he really likes. you bought it back in the city, raemor doesn’t have shampoos that smell like this.

he hears you rustle around in your closet before he hears a faint zip. “wait— jungkook, how does this look?”

the pillow is pulled away from his face and his eyes lay on you. with a colorful sundress draped on your body. it flows and compliments your skin beautifully. you’re beautiful. god, you’re gorgeous. asking jungkook for his opinion wouldn’t help, he’s biased. you’re pretty in his eyes no matter what you wear. “that— yeah, it’s— you look great.” he stumbles over his words.

“cat’s got your tongue?” you tease. in retaliation, jungkook ruffles up your hair a bit, making you groan and spend another five minutes in front of the mirror to fix it. meanwhile, jungkook pulls himself off the bed and straightens his outfit out, opting to leave his jacket off since it was toasty in the castle. he still looks proper and handsome with his white button up and dress pants on. for the last touch, you dig through your jewelry box, knowing that it has to be somewhere in there.

then there it was, at the bottom, tangled with a necklace from your mother, was the friendship bracelet jungkook gave you when you were twelve at the lantern festival. a dainty gold chain with a flower embellishment on it, signifying the promise the two of you made. he watches from afar when you put it on, trying to hide his surprise. “you still have it?”

you nod, “you don’t?”

“i do.” he assures. “i just didn’t think you’d remember it after all this time.”

you scoff playfully, walking towards him. “of course i remember,” linking your arm with his. “i remember everything.”

with that, the two of you step out of your room and down to the dining hall. they were expecting you, but not jungkook. the shock on everyone’s faces was evident. your parents, clementine, your ladies, venus, even blue. it was a good surprise though. both of your parents had to hide their big smiles behind their napkins. the staff kindly added another chair next to you for jungkook to sit down in. no one spoke up about it, if they wanted to ask, they kept their mouths shut. the two of you enjoy a delicious breakfast without any interference from any of the advisors.

but someone had to say it, and you were happy that it was going to be you.

you let out a cough before standing up, holding a glass of water and clinking your knife against it gently to grab everyone's attention. it only took a few seconds for all eyes to land on you. “jungkook and i have come to the conclusion that we will marry.” you announce.

the hall is overjoyed. cheers coming from your parents, smiles being sent your way from blue and your ladies. even the advisors, the most stern and inexpressive people you know (except for venus) crack a little smile at the news. “but—” you begin. silence quickly takes over the room. “only on jungkook and i’s terms.”

there is a bit of confusion amongst the crowd. so clementine is quick to ask, “and what are those terms, your highness?”

one. “jungkook and i will wed next year, when spring begins.”

two. “both of us will plan the wedding, with help of others, but the main parts will be orchestrated by the two of us.”

three. “there will be no talk of an heir until we are ready.”

“deal!” both yours and jungkook’s parents say as soon as you’re done talking.

“then it is settled! prince jungkook and princess ___ will wed next spring!” clementine announces to the hall and cheers erupt through the room once more.

jungkook stands and gives you a tight hug. the moment is all too perfect, the joyous chatter of everyone around you and the warm embrace of the one you love wrapped around you. it’s something you’ve dreamed of. “i won’t let you down, princess.” he promises you, in your ear, only for you to hear.

“i’ll be the best husband this world has ever seen.”

a good husband has to be honest.

jungkook has something to tell you, and he isn’t sure how to word it. he’s scared you’ll be turned off by it. it is a pretty serious topic, so he needs to say it, or else he would feel the guilt start to build in his stomach. then before he knows it, it’ll spill all out. so it’s better to nip the bud. get it done before it becomes a bigger problem.

the two of you were having a sleepover tonight. it’s the first one you guys had since you’ve been back. jungkook brought all the fancy snacks that his mother packed along with some drinks, while you had your contraband: face masks and matching pajamas for the both of you.

he looks funny with his peel off mask drying on his face. you told him not to make any facial expressions or else it wouldn’t work. jungkook’s been pulling a straight face for ten minutes while watching elle woods destroy chutney in the courtroom.

he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to speak up about it, but it’s been eating at him for long enough. “i have to tell you something.” he says out of nowhere. you look at him, trying not to react with your face. his serious tone makes you want to burst out into laughter, it was just so out of place.

but he looks somber, like how he looks when something’s bothering him. you swallow the urge to laugh and just nod. “you can tell me while i peel this mask off your face, deal?” you ask, moving closer and picking at the edge of the mask.

you wait patiently until he spills whatever he needs to say, but he looks a little distracted by the feeling of the face mask being peeled off. he’s already nervous, he tells himself not to get side tracked. so he just spits it out. “i’m not a virgin.”

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

you try not to show your shock, but your eyebrows were already raised and now your facemask is stuck to itself. “oh— oh my god, jungkook,” you laugh, covering your mouth. “do you want a high-five or something?” you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. you raise your hand up and wait for him to reciprocate.

if you were being honest, it did make you a little jealous. you wondered who he lost it to. it was probably jieun. did he love her? enough to want to lose his virtue to her? while the questions run through your mind, he returns the high-five, taking you out of the downward spiral of queries. you weren’t angry at him. there wasn’t an agreement between the two of you that you’d take each other’s virginities. jealousy is unforgiving, because you knew there was no reason to be mad but you still felt the stupid pang in your heart.

you finish taking his mask off, expertly in one piece. jungkook waits for you as you throw it in the trash. he’s still silent, not really knowing what else to say. he was waiting for an argument, in all honesty. but you’re smiling, seemingly unaffected by his confession. “do you wanna help me take off mine?” you ask him, sitting back on the bed, facing him.

he nods, picking at the edge and trying to do exactly what you did. “you’re not upset?” he asks, pulling the mask off of your face. maybe you were, but you weren’t going to tell him. it’s in the past, what matters is now, and he’s here with you now. you couldn’t be too mad.

maybe you should be honest too. you shake your head, “of course not, i’m not a virgin either.” this conversation only proves that there was no need to hide when it came to jungkook. you admired him for speaking up about it first too, even though you aren’t exactly sure why.

jungkook successfully took your mask off in one piece as well, discarding it into the trash can. you tell him that the two of you have to wash your faces to get the tiny pieces off and he follows you into the bathroom. responding with a, “really?” and a raise of his eyebrows.

you turn the water on and splash him a little bit. “are you trying to say i’m too ugly to get laid, jeon?!” you glare.

jungkook backtracks, “no— no! you’re pretty— really pretty— i just— i didn’t know what to say.”

you roll your eyes playfully. rinsing your face with water and making sure your face is entirely clean from the mask before stepping aside and drying your face off, allowing jungkook to have his turn. “who’d you lose it to?” you asked. despite probably already knowing the answer, you just had to make sure.

“uh—” he starts, looking at you through the mirror. his eyes flicker back down to the stream of water when he answers, “jieun.”

of course. you let out a little laugh, stepping closer and nudging his side with your elbow. “congratulations, dude.” at least he told you, at least he was honest. that’s all that matters. jealousy can play it’s part later. after the sleepover.

“what about you?” jungkook asks when he finishes drying his face off. he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. curiosity gets the best of everyone.

“my ex-boyfriend,” you answer nonchalantly. “min yoongi.”

“boyfriend…” he exaggerates. pursing his lips and nodding, the same jealousy you felt earlier coursing through his veins now. “that’s nice— congratulations.” he says, copying what you said. an awkward silence comes between the two of you, in turn, making the two of you laugh out loud. clutching your stomach type of laugh.

“why did you bring it up in the first place?” you question. curious as to why he would need to speak up about his sexual past.

“well, i just wanted to tell you because— i don’t know— when it happened, you were the first one i wanted to tell, and i know it’s too much information but we always talked about stuff like this— like remember when you told me when you got your first period?” he begins to ramble again. a cute habit of his.

you cringe at the mention, but you remember it so well. jungkook was so worried for you, he did all the research he could on menstrual cycles; asked his parents about it, looked online, asked his advisors, and even the doctors that come around the palace for check-ups. with all the advice he got, he showed up in front of your door with a big basket of your favorite sweets, literally every menstrual product ever produced (he wasn’t sure which one you used so he brought all), and other random things like flowers, just to be extra nice. you ended up crying in his arms because of how lovely the gesture was. it showed what kind of person jungkook was. meticulous, caring, and just so sweet.

“you’re right.” the trip down memory lane was delightful, as it always is whenever it comes to him. “but what… about us?” you asked. the question seemed random, but whenever you travel down memory lane with jungkook, you’re always reminded of the feelings that you had and still do have for jungkook. being on this topic makes you wonder: did he bring this up because he wants to have sex and wants to be transparent about how many partners he’s had?

“what do you mean? what about us?” he asks. his eyebrows are furrowed and you can tell he doesn’t understand.

the question shouldn’t have made you hesitate the way you did, but now you’re trying to find the words to backtrack. “i— um,” your smile fades a little. expecting you and jungkook to jump into a relationship was unrealistic, let alone having sex. “nothing.” you shake your head.

jungkook can somehow read your mind. he probably just picked up on context clues. “if you’re thinking about— you know— us, having sex,” he starts. “we don’t have to do anything of that sort, if you don’t want to.”

the thought is something that’s lingered in your mind for a while. same for jungkook. but neither of you will admit that. so the conversation comes to an awkward halt. you blush. “right! yeah— sure, of course.” you nod. every synonym of ‘okay’ leaves your mouth. it makes jungkook laugh, starting a domino effect and making you laugh. soon enough, the conversation was pushed aside and the two of you focused on whatever movie netflix decided to autoplay. it wasn’t long before the buzz of the tv lulled the two of you to sleep.

“jungkook! save me!” you shout from the doors of his palace, spotting him talking to his father in the foyer. you just ran from your castle to his in hopes to outrun your chaser. jungkook’s head turns at the sound of your voice, your figure coming closer and closer.

“what? what is it?” quickly placing the papers in his hand onto the table, he rushes towards you. his face was riddled with worry as he watched you run towards him.

taking you into his arms, you hold him tightly. “venus won’t stop asking me what color the table cloths for the guests should be— please… spare me, my prince.” you fake sob into his chest.

he lets out a relieved laugh, the stress lifting away when he realized that you were just being bombarded with wedding questions again. “shouldn’t they be white?” he asks.

you look up at him in his embrace, chin against his chest, near his throat. “that’s what i said! then she started asking about the details of the cloth— like if we wanted it to be a certain type of thread, if we wanted a different colored detail woven through it— i just— why does it matter?!”

“it matters because it’s going to be the wedding of the century! now tell me, ___, white with gold detail or—” venus finally finds you after asking the guards where you went. she approaches you hurriedly and tries to shove the samples in your face, but you hide in jungkook’s chest, refusing to look at them.

“the gold detail is beautiful, venus, thank you.” jungkook answers for you. you relax against him once again. venus looks satisfied, putting her cloth samples back into her bag and walking away. with venus finally out of your hair, jungkook rubs your back gently. “wanna stay the night?” jungkook asks in your ear.

“depends.” you act like you think about it. pulling away from his embrace, looking at him with a playful glare. “do they still make those strawberry tarts i used to love?”

jungkook smiles. “i’ll ask them to bake you some right now.”

“deal.” you pinch his cheek. “hello, your majesty!” you greet his dad when you turn around. jungkook moves over to the side and tells one of his assistants to ask the kitchen to make your strawberry tarts.

jungkook’s dad gives you a bright smile. “good evening, princess.” even bowing slightly.

“you know you don’t need to do that, papa, it’s just me.” you smiled, giving him a curtsy back for the courtesy

“yes, yes, i know.” he laughs. “i’m just so glad to see you home.” opening his arms for a hug. which you move for immediately, hugging him tightly.

jungkook’s parents were always amazing to you. never making you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. “i missed you as well, you and mama jeon always make me feel at home whenever i’m here.” you express your gratitude to him.

he holds one of your hands in his. “it is your second home, ___.”

“thank you,” you grinned. when you look down, his hands are holding an entire stack of papers. it must be something important, you excuse yourself so that they could finish their business. “i’ll see you later, papa! jungkook! i’ll be in your room!”

jungkook only gives you a thumbs up as he takes his place back next to his dad. the two of them watch as you skip your way up the stairs. your figure receding as you make it to his room when jungkook’s dad speaks up once more. “she is something else, son.” patting his back with a light laugh.

jungkook laughs too. a big smile on his face when he says, “in the best way possible.”

“agreed.” he replicates the same smile that’s on his son’s face. “i’m happy for you.”

when he looks down, his father holds out the papers to verify the marriage arrangement for him to sign. your family had already signed and his parents did too, a while ago. jungkook told them that he’ll only sign after you did. then, just after breakfast when the two of you announced your agreement to the arrangement, you signed happily. it’s a little late because jungkook’s been super busy, but now, with excitement in his heart for your future together, he scribbles his signature on the line. “thanks, dad.” he says as he hands the papers back to him.

they settle the rest of their business and finish signing some more papers. after about ten minutes, jungkook is finished with all the reading and signatures. he makes his way to the kitchen and the chefs hand him a platter of strawberry tarts on the cutest serving plate. white with little red hearts that match the strawberries. a detail that jungkook knows you’ll appreciate.

with two waters in his hand and the tarts in the other, he makes his way up the stairs. hilariously, a problem arises when jungkook needs to open the door to his room. he doesn’t wanna put the stuff down and he figures that you probably can’t hear him if he knocks because the volume of the tv is leaking through the door. in the corner of his eye, jungkook can see a guard crossing the hallway. “psst!” he calls out, hoping to get his attention. the guard passes by without a second thought. a few seconds pass and he can hear the guard take a couple steps back.

soon enough, the guard pops his head into the hallway. “everything alright, your highness?” he asks.

“yes, but— do you mind opening the door for me?” he laughs awkwardly. the guard nods and rushes over, turning the knob and sliding the door open. “thanks, man, have a good night.” he smiles at the guard.

“of course— you too, your highness.” he bows before leaving him be.

when he enters the room, you’re nowhere to be seen. the tv is on and playing some scary movie from what he can tell, the background music is eerie and quite frankly creeping him out. he sets down the waters first onto his bedside table and you come out of his bathroom at the perfect time. “there you are.” he sighs. “how are you just going to play a scary movie and then make me come into an empty room?!” he cries.

you roll your eyes playfully. “my apologies, prince, i didn’t hear you come in!” sporting a hoodie and a pair of boxers stolen from jungkook’s closet, you jump into his bed and eye the beautifully plated tarts in his grasp.

jungkook tries not to get distracted by the way you look right now. so cute in his clothes. he wonders if you caught the way that he looked you up and down. when he realizes that you’ve been staring at the tarts, he refocuses and picks up one of the pastries, holding it close to your mouth “your tarts, your majesty.” when you open to take a bite, he snatches it back quickly and takes a bite himself. his face contorted in pleasure, the treat was perfect amounts sweet and sour.

“jungkook,” you deadpanned. your straight face breaks into laughter not even a second later when he holds the bitten pastry back up to your mouth. “you literally ate half of it!”

“then eat the rest of it!” he shoots back with a laugh. you roll your eyes, taking the rest of the pastry into your mouth. in turn, your lips slightly graze against his fingers. it wasn’t helping that your eyes were looking directly into jungkook’s. it was quite obvious that there was some tension here.

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

most of the time the two of you just act like it never happened. but they’ve just been happening a little too often these days. like that one time you and jungkook almost kissed after he helped you put on a necklace. that time you and jungkook were hiding from blue; he held his hand over your mouth and the other arm tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t move or make a noise. then now, your sex eyes peering directly into his as your lips graze his fingers. yeah… it was a hard thing to talk about.

jungkook is just as confused as you when it comes to whatever the two of you were. just best friends? engaged but friends? dating? no, that wouldn’t be right. jungkook should ask you to be his girlfriend, er— fiancee, right? just because the two of you are arranged to be married doesn’t mean the two of you go from best friends to a pair of lovers just like that, even with requited feelings.

communication wasn’t a hard thing for the two of you. being best friends for twenty years does that to you. fights, the silent treatment, and even that one period of time where you swore that you’d never talk to jungkook ever again; you guys have been through it all.

it’s just that— neither of you really know how to go about it. this conversation was awkward. maybe it’s just not time to talk about it yet, jungkook thought. you were so busy these days. your advisors would pull you away from him before he even got a word in.

then when you two do get the time to spend with each other, the both of you are usually exhausted from the days you’ve had. even though the wedding was an entire year away, there was way more planning than either of you expected. everyone wants it to be perfect. which is nice in hindsight, but it does get annoying sometimes. like how venus was hounding you earlier for the choice of table cloths.

so the two of you just ignore it for now. maybe when it becomes more of a problem, you’ll talk about it with each other. but for now, it’s just something neither of you are ready to face. you chew and swallow the rest of the tart while jungkook moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. giving the both of you enough time to calm down and gather your thoughts.

when he comes back out, you’ve eaten at least three more strawberry tarts and started a new movie. another scary one. jungkook doesn’t understand how you can watch these kinds of things before you go to sleep, it’s like you’re immune to nightmares or something.

but you weren’t immune to feeling tired. just before jungkook joins you in bed, you let out a yawn before stretching your limbs a little bit.

“tired?” jungkook asks, pulling the comforter over his legs.

you nod, “a little.”

he smiles. “it’s late,” he nods to the clock on his night stand. one in the morning. “sleep, you did a lot of work today.”

“i know,” you groan. “just one more bite.” trying to fit an entire strawberry tart into your mouth was a bad decision. the pastry crumbled into your throat and had you choking for a minute.

jungkook comes to the rescue with your glass of water and a hand rubbing circles against your back. “alright, alright.” he laughs. “no more tarts— go to sleep, princess.”

when you’ve come down from your coughing fit, you nod before you tell him that you’re going to call seungyeon and jimin. “let me just update them about the wedding planning— they’re gonna laugh about everything, i just know it!”

“it’s supposed to be a secret, princess.” jungkook shakes his head, watching as your hands pull out your phone at lightning speed.

“oh… really?” you pause, “i’ve been telling them everything since we’ve started.” jungkook only laughs. he could never be mad at that, why wouldn’t you wanna share something like this with your friends?

“just make sure your advisors don’t find out, okay?” he holds his pinky up for a classic promise, which you reciprocate.

the next fifteen minutes or so, jungkook acts like he isn’t listening to your conversation as he immerses himself into the storyline of this movie, it was interesting but not as interesting as the way you tell them about the wedding. you sound so excited, telling seungyeon that you’re gonna have to go dress shopping soon and that you want her to be there and everything. it makes jungkook smile. it’s more back and forth between the two of you, seungyeon saying of course she’ll be there and you saying that she better because you’re sending a jet to her. it was quite funny.

then seungyeon’s voice rings over the line, updating you about how jimin’s prepping for his big dance recital on saturday and how much they miss you.

you wish you could go to support him. jimin’s been dancing for as long as he’s lived. he’s so passionate about it and you admire him for it. he talked your ear off about how excited he was about this performance. that the crowd is going to be the biggest he’s ever performed for and how scouts will be in the audience. you wished you could go.

the way your voice shakes isn’t something you can hide very well. over the phone it may pass off as a breath you took too long to breathe in, but in person, jungkook can hear the way that your voice gives way to the tears building in your eyes. “tell him i wish him the best of luck.”

“of course,” she answers. “oh! and i was able to take some pictures when we went into the city, you remember all those hole-in-the-wall spots, right? turns out they’re great for photography!”

not long after, you received an email notification. containing the pictures that seungyeon took and they were beautiful. the city's night lights make everything look so cool, like a movie.

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

“they’re gorgeous,” you tell her. scrolling through picture after picture. seungyeon rambles more about a new restaurant they found that she hopes to bring you (and jungkook) to when they have the chance. jungkook could see the way that your energy changed. you’re sad now. he can feel it. he knows you miss the city. the way you slowly scroll through the pictures, longing to be there instead of having to look at a picture of it through a screen.

the gears in his head turn. a plan has already been set into motion for a date between the two of you. yugyeom, taehyung, and eunwoo have all been trying to pitch in, give him ideas as to where to go, what to do. but jungkook thinks he knows exactly what to do. he wanted to do this right.

so that next morning, jungkook makes an important phone call after retrieving the phone number from namjoon.

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

it’s already been a week and a half since you and jungkook agreed to an arranged marriage. you’ve only been able to see him five out of the twelve days. busy was an understatement. venus said there is too much to do and that even a year isn’t enough time to get everything done. it seems like an exaggeration, in your opinion. sure, a wedding was a lot of work, but did you really need to be there to confirm everything?

maybe venus will let you have a break one of these days. you don’t suspect it to be anytime soon. today, you were told to wake up early (six in the morning type of early) and get dressed. no one told you exactly why, but you listened and once you were ready, made your way to the briefing room.

when you push the big doors open, venus eyes you suspiciously. “princess, what are you doing here? we are not wedding planning today.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “then what are we doing?”

“you are going on a plane, something about a political appearance.” she winks. walking your way and weaving her arm through yours to lead you out.

“already? mother said appearances weren’t for another month!” you groaned.

“sorry, princess.” she laughs. “your bags are being packed as we speak, just go freshen up and we’ll meet jungkook and blue at the royal runway.”

“got it.” you assure her. ah, such a good kid. venus thinks. you don’t even question the random political appearance and just accept it at face value. she knows you’ll be surprised. you don’t even suspect a thing!

after maybe ten minutes, you walk with venus down to the runway and meet up with the boys. jungkook seems a little nervous. he’s doing that thing where he shifts his weight on his feet. “you okay?” you ask him.

“yeah! yeah— why wouldn’t i be?” jungkook answers. a smile that’s way too bright is displayed on his face. you suspect it’s just nerves for the speech he’s probably gonna have to do.

“if you’re nervous, just remember i’ll be right there next to you, yeah?” you assure him. gently taking his hand into yours.

jungkook is suddenly reminded why he shouldn’t be so damn nervous. because it’s you. he gets to be with you. to marry you. of course, he wants it to be perfect, that’s why he keeps going over everything in his head, making sure he’s got everything down. but it’s you. his best friend. when he looks at you, his nerves are at ease. that burning feeling in his chest dies down and his throat no longer feels like closing in on itself.

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

you nod, “where are we going anyway? venus never told me.” stepping up into the aircraft and taking your seat, jungkook and blue follow suit.

“i think we’re going to gotia, right, blue?” jungkook answers, turning his head to namjoon. his face directly telling him to go along with it.

“yes, your highness, gotia.” namjoon smiles brightly.

your eyebrows knit together. they’re acting weird again. “alright…” you say, suspicious of them already. “wake me up when we’re there.”

apparently, you were exhausted. you slept through the entire plane ride and it was a fifteen hour plane ride. namjoon said you did this the last time too. only waking up to eat and talk briefly before falling asleep again. it was a great time for namjoon and jungkook to gather blackmail photos for themselves as your sleeping faces are unbeatable. even when you land, you don’t wake up. jungkook isn’t gonna be the one to wake you up, so he gently lifts you up, bridal style. you don’t even bother opening your eyes, you just cuddle into his further. jungkook was always so warm, and so strong. he carries you into a car and lets you continue sleeping there, with your head on his shoulder.

after about twenty minutes of traffic, you finally decide to open your eyes. suddenly conscious of the way that jungkook’s hand is intertwined with yours. you don’t mind, his hand felt nice in yours. with sleep-riddled eyes, you look outside the window to see city infrastructure; which is not very common in gotia. gotia is a green mountain country, known particularly for their abundance of livestock and green grass.

you give them the benefit of doubt, perhaps you guys were just going somewhere in gotia that you’ve never been before. so you ask, “where exactly in gotia are we going?”

jungkook smiles. a very mischievous smile. “you’ll see when we get there, princess, don’t worry.”

hm, suspicious. this time you sit up, the seat belt digging into your belly when you push forward to lean against the front seat. “blue, where are we going?” you ask your trusty body guard.

“i am just following directions, your highness.” he tells you with a tight grin.

you were already suspicious during the plane ride, and now since neither jungkook or namjoon want to tell you where you’re going; you’re starting to put the pieces together. they’re gonna make you play that game where blue drops you and jungkook off in a random location and the two of you have to figure out where to go from there. and from your own experience: it sucks! so you scoff. “you guys are kidnapping me! hand me my phone, i am calling my father.” holding your hand out with your palm facing up. both of them laugh, jungkook places his hand on yours instead of giving you your phone.

“just wait a little longer, princess.” jungkook tells you as he intertwines your fingers together.

another few minutes and you’re still unsure of where you are, the dark tint of the windows is only adding onto the difficulty to spot the exact location. blue stops abruptly and turns to the two of you, “i was told to let you off here.” he says. the street is empty, but somewhat familiar. you weren’t able to get another look before jungkook covered your eyes.

“it’s a surprise, close your eyes.” he says. out of habit, you close your eyes, giving your trust to jungkook. jungkook steps out of the car first and then the door to the left of you opens. you keep your eyes closed and scoot out of the car with jungkooks’ help. he helps you out and onto the ground where he leads you somewhere onto the sidewalk.

“can i open my eyes now?” you ask, still squeezing your eyes shut.

“in a sec,” jungkook promises. bringing you a little further, you can hear him open a door and feel him lead you inside. “you can open your eyes now, we have to go up some stairs first.” he tells you.

when you open your eyes, you’re in a staircase with carpeted floors and metal railings. it looks fancy. the two of you make it up the stairs and you still can’t tell where the hell you are before jungkook tells you to close your eyes again. he opens another door and leads you out, leading you through a curtain you can feel. now you can hear some noise, quiet bickers of a crowd of people. it had to be hundreds of people out there.

you hear jungkook sit down beside you before he speaks up once more, “okay, open.”

scared, you only open your right eye just a peek. from the image, there’s an entire crowd below you. you’re in a theater of some sort. no, wait— it’s not just some theater, it’s the theater. the one that jimin’s performing at! that’s when your eyes shoot open. you’re back in the city, with jungkook by your side, about to watch your best friends’ performance.

“no way.” you spoke quietly, facing jungkook. he only smiles at you, holding your hand in his. “did you really do this for me?” the two of you sat in the highest box seat, jimin called them ‘the rich people seats.’ no one can really see you from here and you had one of the best views; it was perfect.

it was just so thoughtful. he must have noticed how homesick you were feeling, how much you yearned to see your friends again. this is the best gift you could have ever received. you’re not even sure what to say, and jungkook understands. he doesn’t expect any thank you’s or a major display of affection. he’s just happy that you’re happy.

when the lights dim and the music begins to play, you can’t help but feel the tears start to build in your eyes. “thank you, jungkook, so much.” you pull yourself close to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“of course, princess.” he tells you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. “anything for you.”

with that, a tear falls and the curtains are drawn. revealing jimin standing in position with a beautiful dark forest background, performing his black swan routine. one of his longest and most physically intensive choreography he’s ever made. but it’s so damn gorgeous. he performs flawlessly and receives a standing ovation. you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

during the extended applause, jungkook stands up pulls you along, through another carpeted hallway. “wait— where are we going?” you ask him. his other hand holds a bouquet that literally came out of nowhere. “and where did you get those flowers?!”

“we’re gonna see jimin!” he tells you as he maneuvers through the never ending hallways. “oh, and i hid these— so you could give them to jimin.”

the two of you stop just before another door, you pull him back gently. “what? people are going to see us, jungkook, we aren’t allowed to be outside of the kingdom without proper guards.”

“no one will see us, i promise, jimin will meet us here in this room.” he tells you. the both of you peek through the door window, it was an empty practice room. the door on the other side of the room opens and it’s the cue that it’s safe to come in. “ready?” he asks, holding the flowers out for you to take.

you start crying again, it was immediate. jungkook wipes the tears away quickly, “don’t cry, princess.” he places a sweet kiss on your forehead before he hands you the bouquet and opens the door for you.

then there in the middle of the room stands your best friend. his arms open for a hug and you run into them. crying even harder when you realize that jimin is crying too, you can hear the way he sniffles. “why are you crying?! you did amazing!” you sob.

“because you’re here and everything went perfectly— it’s just overwhelming.” he admits, pulling back from the hug. the two of you laugh at your crying faces.

“congratulations, jimin.” you tell him, holding out the flowers for him.

“thank you, ___.” he accepts them with a smile, wiping his tears and turning his attention to jungkook, who stands at the door as a lookout. “jungkook—! oh crap, wait— should i call him majesty or highness or something?” jimin’s quickly tries to correct himself, asking you for advice.

you can only laugh and shake your head. “you can just call him jungkook.”

“i was called?” jungkook stands just behind you, with a smile on his face.

“yeah, man— come here.” jimin embraces him in a hug and jungkook doesn’t object it.

rubbing his back, jungkook congratulates him as well. “you’re incredibly talented, jimin.” he smiles when he pulls away. “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“thank—”

“jimin! it’s curtain call!” a lady barges into the practice room. she stands speechless for a second, her eyes darting straight to jungkook. “wait, is that prince jungkook?!” all of you are wide eyed. jimin’s mouth is silently telling you two to ‘run!’ before you knew it, she was pulling out her phone, trying to take a picture.

jimin is quick to block the camera as he shouts. “go! hurry!” the two of you rush out of the door you came from. you and jungkook bolt back to the car, blue is a little startled when you both jump in, breathless.

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

“shit— alright!” blue complies and steps on the gas, getting you out of the parking spot behind the theater and now onto the streets of the city.

now that everyone’s calmed down. you just realized that you, again, have no idea where you were going. “now where are we off to? it’s about eleven o’clock, right?”

“go with the plan, blue.” jungkook tells him. with the creepy wording, you begin to feel more suspicion around the two of them. what more surprises could there be?

the three of you spent another fifteen or so minutes of driving, and quite frankly you were tired of looking for little landmarks to pinpoint where you were. just as you were about to ask again, blue stops the car and looks at jungkook.

“okay, another surprise— close your eyes.” jungkook says. you can’t help but admit this is kind of fun. sure, you were annoying the hell out of the boys for the past fifteen minutes asking when you were gonna get there and where you were going. but they love you either way.

you keep your eyes squeezed shut as jungkook helps you out of the car and onto another sidewalk. “just a little further.” he says, leading you closer to whatever it was. just before he speaks again, you hear a little jingle. “okay, open.”

when your eyes finally adjust to the city lights, you recognize the building entirely too well. a place that you lived for five years. “is this— are we— no way!” you stutter, purely out of surprise. you were sure that you weren’t going to see this place for at least another decade.

you stand there speechless, just like how you did at jimin’s recital, for a good minute or so. jungkook has to wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of the trance.

“so, are you gonna show me your apartment or not?” jungkook grins, holding up your cutely decorated keychain. you squeal in excitement as he hands you the keys and you drag him into the building. it’s only been about a month and a half since you’ve last seen it, but it feels so nostalgic. it feels special. you suspect it’s because of the man whose hand you’re holding right now.

up the elevator and to the left, the apartment labeled with a silver plated 101 beckons you inside. soon enough, you’re pulling jungkook through the door and giving him a detailed tour of your shoe closet that is right there when you walk in.

as the two of you walk around, it’s cleaner than you remember. venus must have gotten people to tidy the place up after you left. just as you finish the very short tour of your apartment, you remember that you’d left some things from jimin and seungyeon in your room. “make yourself at home, my prince, i’ll just be in my room, collecting some things.” you excuse yourself and let jungkook look around some more.

if jungkook were honest, he would have told you that he got a bit of whiplash from your tour. he was turning every two seconds because you were speaking so fast. you were just so excited, and jungkook couldn’t have been happier. everything was going exactly as planned. the clock was ticking and jungkook did have a schedule to be on, but there was nothing wrong with a little snooping around your apartment. he wanted to see the place that you called home for the past five years.

your couch looks cozy, blankets on one side with decorative pillows to adorn the piece of furniture. your coffee table is cute too. you’ve got good taste. everything just seems so you. so when jungkook turns toward the bookcase you mentioned earlier into your tour. it was crowded with books, photo albums, cd’s, and records. a specific photo album catches his eyes, a cute light blue album. on the spine it was labeled: ‘jjk’ and from what jungkook knows, it must be his initials.

it’s when he opens it is when he confirms. the album is full of pictures of the two of you when you were kids, at every festival, from infant to teens. flipping through the pages, both of your smiles never changed. over the years; in both of your eyes, the certain glimmer of love shines so brightly. he puts it back with a soft smile after he’s flipped through all the pages. another book catches his eyes, your favorite fairy tale story: hansel and gretel. while everyone made fun of your choice of story, jungkook thought it was cool. you were all about safety and stranger danger, therefore making hansel and gretel a good story for kids to read (in your opinion.) you always read it when you needed to make an important decision, you called it a comfort read. it helped you get into the right mindset, think about all the pros and especially the cons of the decision you were about to make.

jungkook was only going to look at it and flip through the pages mindlessly. but when he pulls it out of its place in the bookshelf, two envelopes fall out from between the pages. squatting down, he picks up the fallen pieces of paper and coincidentally, sees his name on one of the letters. the other is blank, just a plain envelope. if it was addressed to him, then it means it was meant for him, therefore, he could read it… right?

jungkook,

if you are reading this, then that means i’ve already left for the city.

first, i wanted to apologize: for everything. for not telling you that i would leave sooner, for leaving you, for not telling you how i felt.

i was scared terrified that i would ruin our friendship if i ever told you, but now, since i don’t know if i’ll ever come back. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time.

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

i’m sorry this is how you had to find out, i’m sorry i didn’t have the courage to tell you in person.

but i love you, and i think i always will.

i hope you will be happy, whoever you marry. i hope they love you the way you deserve.

i hope to be at your wedding when i hear the news.

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

easily, his eyes gloss over. you’ve loved him all along. he should have known. how could he have not known? thoughts run through his mind at hundreds of miles an hour; what would have happened if you did give this to him when you left. he probably would have gotten on the next plane out and searched the city to find you. probably would have done the exact same thing he did recently, beg you to give the two of you a chance. he shakes his head, sliding the letter back into its envelope. reading the other letters wouldn’t hurt, right?

of course not, he tells himself. he was always so nosy. the blank envelope held multiple pieces of paper. most of them were unfinished confessions to him, smudged black ink with multiple sentences crossed off. from what he can count, you wanted to confess to him at least five times now.

jungkook isn’t sure how he feels, he just knows how in love he is. this feeling of being surrounded by warmth, it’s enough to make a tear slip out. he can’t help but smile either. this is the boost of confidence he needed for tonight. he was so nervous before, that everything would go terribly wrong, but now he’s just so… content, so happy. he wanted to hug you, kiss you, everything. so he puts the envelopes back into the book, places it back into the shelf and makes his way to your room. your body hovers over your vanity, digging through your jewelry box.

“my princess.” jungkook pouts even though you can’t see him. coming from behind, he hugs you tightly and rests his head against yours. he tries to hide the way that his tears began to tear up. you look up from your tangle of necklaces, turning and taking him into your arms.

“are you crying?” the single tear that rolls down his cheek grabs your attention. your hand immediately coming up to wipe it away. “what’s wrong? do you hate my little apartment that much?” you let out a laugh.

he laughs too, shaking his head with a smile. “your little apartment is perfect— i love it actually, i love you.”

“aw,” you mumble against his chest. “i love you too, even though you’re acting super weird.” the two of you stand there, swaying in a hug for a little longer.

“am not.” he rests his chin atop your head.

“whatever you say.” you hum, pulling him towards your prized possession— your queen sized bed. the two of you plop on top, your fluffy comforter proving to be one of the best purchases you have ever made in your entire life. the two of you lay there in silence for a little bit, you almost fall asleep due to how warm jungkook is.

“as much as i would love to cuddle and take a nap in your bed, we’re on a tight schedule— c’mon.” jungkook says as he stands from your bed, pulling you up.

“a schedule?” you quirk an eyebrow. “what else are we gonna do in the city? our faces are plastered all over the internet, not to mention you’re the most-thirsted-after prince in the entire world.” you ask as he tugs you through the hallway and back into the living room.

“can you show me the roof?” jungkook asks. a sly smile on his face, while you’re still completely clueless.

“of course!” you squeal, excited to show him the amazing view of the city the roof of your building has. the two of you exit your apartment and you pull him up another two flights of stairs. “usually it’s kind of dirty, so don’t mind the mess.” you warn before opening the heavy door.

but when you push it open, the roof is…clean. it’s decorated too. it’s not the same as you last saw it. “huh— would you look at that?” jungkook steps out onto the roof first, with his hands on his hips as he looks back at you. “it looks pretty clean— and look! it’s set up for dinner...?” he acts surprised. his eyebrows raised as the two of you walk towards the dinner table. he pulls out the chair for you to sit down and you can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“so this was your plan.” you snort. dinner was in the shape of cups of ice cream. it was adorable. “ice cream for dinner?”

jungkook nods, handing you a tiny spoon for the ice cream. “your favorite.”

he did all of this for me. you realize the effort. he must have gone through meticulous planning and conspiring all of this in secret. he’s good. really good. god, you could kiss him.

the two of you sit there in the ambiance of the late city night, eating ice cream and having a small conversation. whenever the conversation paused, you could hear some music playing quietly in the back.

jungkook really did deserve the mantle of prince charming. king of romance. ruler of your heart.

“do you hear that?” jungkook asks, holding a hand out next to his ear. a familiar tune playing from wherever the music was. standing up, he extends his grasp for you to take. “a dance, princess?”

“you know i have two left feet.” you try to decline him, remembering how taehyung teased you about the way that you tripped over his feet when the two of you danced at your welcome home party. but jungkook doesn’t mind. he loves dancing with you, always has. he loves the way that your feet crash into his, how focused you get when you try not to get the moves wrong. he wanted to waltz with you everywhere, even if you stood on his feet the entire time.

“just follow me, alright?” he smiles. giving in, you take his hand and the two of you make your way to the middle of the rooftop. the night sky bearing witness to one of the most romantic things you’ve ever received. you feel his hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to step where he does.

“sparks, huh?” you smile, finally putting a title on the song playing. “kind of a sad song to dance to.” following his moves, dancing does seem a little easier with jungkook there.

“i thought it was perfect.” he states, leading you in for a twirl and then back into his arms. “it explains exactly how i feel about you.

“yeah?” you look up to him. even in this faint lighting, the abandoned flickering light bulbs that hang from strings all across the rooftop from an old tenant party, he still shines so bright.

he nods. the two of you silently sway for another few beats of the song. you lay your head against his chest, the beat of his heart is as calming as the music in the back. maybe if you just leave your eyes closed, this moment could last forever.

meanwhile, jungkook is trying to amp himself up to get these words out. another confession and an important question sits heavy on his tongue. he knows you feel the same, knows that you’ll accept, but he’s still so nervous. what if you don’t say yes and he’s left there with his knee against the rough concrete floor? what if this was just too cheesy for you and you hate it?

jungkook tells himself there’s only one way to find out.

“i— can i tell you something?” he asks. you lift your head away and look in his eyes, they greet you with that sweet eye smile that hasn’t changed in all the days you’ve known him.

“of course.” you pull yourself back, holding his hands.  

“when you were gone...i was always afraid that i was romanticizing you— i had nothing but our memories and the small talks we would have sometimes through our parents,” he admits. “i was scared that i was in love with the idea of you, and not… you— you know?”

his confession makes you stop in your tracks, clear disbelief on your face as you drop his hands from your grasp. “what?! jungkook— why are you telling me this now?” you groan, folding your arms over your chest. you move to grab your phone to find a way to reverse this. “you know what— it’s not too late to cancel the engagement and call up the king of fenutar— i’m sure they’ll forgive you— yeah, let’s give them a call—”

he pulls you back gently, “princess, relax.” he laughs. “i was just getting started.”

your gaze softens, letting him finish his point as he restarts the sway. your feet move with his, slowly to the beat of the song playing in the back. it’s changed to something calmer, from what you could hear, it sounds like cigarettes after sex.

“this past month, ever since you came back—” he starts up once more. you attention falling back onto him instead of the music in the back. “i don’t know what it is, but i think i was wrong.” he says. you gently furrow your eyebrows. confused as to what he means. jungkook brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before raising his thumb to soothe the creases in your forehead.

relaxing your muscles under his touch, he lowers his hands back down to hold your hands. he says the next words, staring straight into your eyes. “i love you, i always want to be around you, i wonder if you are alright— if you’re sad, because i want to be there for you, i want to take care of you.” your hands are pulled close to him, enough for him to be able to gently press a kiss against your knuckles. “i want to be by your side, against foes seen and unseen.”

“so—“ he lets go of your hand to pull a tiny white box out from his pocket and gets on one knee. “will you marry me?”

the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

you let out a little laugh, your smile going from ear to ear. “yes! of course— yes, yes!” tears collect in your eyes quickly. holding your arms out for him, jungkook comes up and collects your embrace. a tear slips out and he can hear your sniffle. gently, he wipes the tear away, and the two of you stare at each other just long enough. long enough to understand that this was the time.

you both lean forward and finally, let your lips connect. a kiss seals the fate of both hearts involved.

dreaming of this moment ever since you were fifteen has given you quite high expectations for it, but jungkook always exceeds expectations. even when you think he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he always has something up his sleeve. it shows in the way his kiss is gentle, but so passionate. transferring his love to you in the most efficient way possible.

jungkook is in dreamland almost. wonders if this is what being on drugs is like. pure euphoria. knows that this is what love stories are based off of. pure adoration. fears what he’ll do if he won’t be able to kiss you. the beginning of an addiction. your lips, they take him prisoner.

slowly, the two of you pull away and stare at each other like love sick puppies. jungkook holds your face in his hand as you lean into his grasp. the sound of confetti poppers startle you, flinching at the noise before looking to see what happened. through the rain of confetti, you can see all of them. seungyeon, jimin, blue, taehyung, eunwoo, and yugyeom. you didn’t think it could get any better. you were so happy.

“congratulations, your majesties.” blue moves forward after the confetti settles and hands the two of you a purple rose. the national flower of raemor and it was a common tradition to give engaged couples raemors for good luck all throughout their relationship and marriage. you thank blue with a hug and so does jungkook. jimin and seungyeon also congratulate you, seungyeon pulls out her camera and shows you the pictures she took while she was hidden with everyone behind the huge skylights.

eunwoo takes hold of your hand gently, raising the ring up for everyone to see. jimin and seungyeon also come close to get a better look, holding your arm still. “that rock is adorable, jungkook.” he pats him on the back. making slight fun of the stones size. everyone in the kingdom was used to huge gems, rings that would weigh down the finger of the wearer. you give eunwoo a light shove.

the ring was your style. it was actually really thoughtful too. there were conversations where you and jungkook would gossip about the adults sometimes, you knew everything back then. who was cheating on who, whose wives knew about the mistress, whose husbands knew about the paramour. then most of the time, they would solve it through money. buying bigger, more expensive material things to woo them, to make them forget the betrayals. you hated it. you specifically remember telling jungkook that you’d rather have a small ring and a great love, instead of a big ring and a loveless marriage.

so when you stare at the pretty gem laid on your ring finger, you realize it’s just more evidence that jungkook listens, and he takes your words into account. you couldn’t have been happier with the piece of jewelry. “i think it’s beautiful.” you pout in defense of the ring.

“it’s a red diamond.” namjoon tells them. “one of the rarest diamonds in the world.”

“how much is it?” yugyeom peers at the ring as well, he likes the way it sparkles even without the light.

“it doesn’t matter!” you groan, looking at jungkook for some help as four different people have your hand in their grasp.

“the diamond itself is roughly about five million— the rest of the ring, i can’t say.” namjoon shrugs nonchalantly.

jimin and seungyeon gasp at the same time, same pitch. both yugyeom and eunwoo’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “sorry man— i thought it was a ruby.” eunwoo scratches the back of his head. jungkook only laughs at the conversation, not taking any of it to heart, along with taehyung (and chaeyoung!) who helped him customize the ring in the first place.

“five million?! are you serious?” you turn to him, about to scold him for wasting his money. just for an engagement ring too?!

he catches your hand before you can shove him like you did eunwoo. he brings it to his mouth, kissing your ring finger gently. before coming close to your ear, he whispers, “it’s worth way more than five million.”

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hii! I saw your winter prompts list and they are so good!! If it’s okay, can I request scenario 2 with trope 16 with Diego hargreeves x f reader? Love your work ❤️

A/N: A New Romance for a New Year! Word Count: 1103

“Thank you again for coming,” Diego said as the two of you stepped outside, finally able to escape the throngs of people. “I know it was a lot to ask of you.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, adjusting your coat collar to better block out the chill wind. That was certainly one way to phrase your best friend springing the request on you, with less than 48 hours notice, to be his date to the New Years Party that the Police Academy was throwing because he was embarrassed to show up alone. Of course you had agreed readily, never wanting him to feel unhappy when you were around and could fix it, although you found his nerves at the idea a bit odd. Until the night of the event, tonight, when you learned exactly what he had neglected to mention: that everyone at the academy thought you were his long-term girlfriend, met not long after he and Eudora parted romantic ways. 

“I told you,” you replied with a shrug, “it’s no big deal. Although it would have been nice to have a little heads-up on what I was walking into.”

“Right, sorry about that,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want to freak you out.”

“Because no one could possibly be freaked out upon learning that they were dating their best friend for a year and didn’t know about it,” you teased, elbowing him in the ribs lightly. 

“I didn’t...I just...they kept trying to set me up after Eudora and I, so I panicked,” he explained, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“And claimed to be dating me?”

“Well, I made somebody up, and never set the record straight...so when I showed up with you tonight…”

“They drew conclusions based on the evidence, like any good aspiring detective?”

He chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I guess.”

The pair of you walked in silence for a bit, each apparently lost in your own thoughts, and relieved to be leaving the overwhelmingly cheerful and patently false atmosphere of the event, well ahead of the midnight countdown. Not that you would have minded sticking around, but you could tell that Diego was uncomfortable and would never admit it, so you’d made up an early morning shift to give him an out. Plus it meant you didn’t have to fear the inevitable “first kiss of the new year” that people tended to expect of couples. Not that you would have minded, but if you were going to kiss Diego Hargreeves and throw years of friendship out the window, you wanted it to be real, not a cover story. 

Suddenly something wet and colder than the air around you hit your face. 

“Hey look,” you said, turning your head up to the sky. “It’s snowing!”

He chuckled, watching your eyes light up as you spun, arms outstretched in the falling flakes. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited for snow,” he chuckled. “It’s adorable.”

You felt your cheeks heat as you stopped short. “Did you just call me adorable?”

He looked at you, staring for a moment, taking in the sight of you under the twinkling decor that lined your walk. Adorable wasn’t the word he wanted to use to describe you. Not the only one anyway. Not when others like beautiful and amazing and angelic could have fit even better. 

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “But that’s not what I meant…” 

“Oh.” Your heart dropped. 

The mood was so romantic, And he had offered to walk you home, even though he knew you could take care of yourself and it was in the wrong direction for him. Part of you had hoped that by the end of the night, playacted feelings would give way to real ones. But of course that wasn’t going to happen. Especially since you could see the front of your building down the street. There were only moments left for a confession to take place in, and no sign of such a thing. You tried to keep your disappointment off your face, especially when he didn’t continue to speak, and kept walking, enthusiasm fizzling out like a candle in a bucket. 

“Y/N?” Diego said, catching your attention, and your hand, as you stopped on your stoop.

“Yeah?” you asked, hoping your breathlessness seemed plausibly related to the weather or your walk instead of the overwhelming feeling you felt from the way he said your name. 

“Do you...uh...want to get dinner sometime?” He asked, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head with his free hand. 

“As opposed to what we've been doing every Tuesday night for a year?” You countered, raising an eyebrow. 

He cleared his throat, face reddening. “Yeah. Different than that…”

You stepped closer, taking up his space suddenly. He looked down at you, watching the way the snow collected on your eyelashes and the wisps of hair stirred up by the breeze in a halo around your head. 

“Are you asking me out on a date, Diego Hargreeves?” you murmured, anything louder seeming like too much for the moment.

“I...would you say yes?” his voice matched your softness. You wanted to sink into the gentle hum.

“I already did once, didn’t I?” you tried to make your voice teasing but instead it just felt vulnerable and exposed. “For tonight?”

“Y/N…” he breathed, and this time you could tell for sure that there was something different about it, something new. 

“Yeah?”

“I...really want to kiss you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible even at the minute distance between you, his breath fanning across your face.

“I’ve never known you not to go for what you want, Diego,” you prompted.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his chilly fingers found the back of your head, cupping it gently, and his soft lips pressed to your chapped ones. It was the moment in the movie where the music swells and the camera pans around, slowly panning out to show the glowing street lights and the freshly fallen crystals glittering in them. There’d be tinkling bells that suggested just a tiny bit of magic. But you didn’t need any of it to know the feeling, sweet and dizzying and full of promise, because with your frame pressed gently to his and your arm looping around his neck as if it had a mind of its own, you had the real deal instead. 

Somewhere nearby a church bell rang out the hour and as you pulled back breathlessly, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Happy New Year, Diego,” you murmured, smiling and pulling him into another kiss before he could answer.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter V: Walking on Sunshine

Any minute now, those two would walk back in and bring for me what I asked for. As I waited, I kicked my shoes up above the desk and whistled a nice little tune. My eyes closed, I braced myself for a nap. Yes, it shouldn’t be long...any minute now…aaaand there it was!

Knocked awake by the sound of a door being busted open. Eyelids also opened up in a burst, as I found myself startled out of my sleep. Two women entered, both carrying bags in each hand. Good. Soon delicious food could be made.

“Welcome!” I greeted the two, the sunniest smile shone on my face. As they drew closer, I lowered my legs back onto the floor and leaned myself forward. My hand rested against my chin as I scanned them, inquisitive.

“My shoulders are about to fall right off,” Demetria groaned. “Where can I set this shit down?”

“The kitchen’s fine,” I replied, casual. “I’ll take care of it in a bit.”

“This feels so wrong. Doing your dirty work,” she retorted. Ah, that was true, wasn’t it? In any case, while she did complain, she still hurried along. Now there was just the matter of the fish that walked in behind her, the one that latched on to a shark.

She dropped her portion of the groceries on my desk. How thoughtful of her.

“Good job, Remora,” I inspected the bag, then began to write off a check for her. “This should cover the expenses of each item,” I passed the check to her.

She took it, stared me down the whole while, her gaze would have pierced through anyone, and because of that, I was grateful I wore glasses. Without averting her gaze, she tore the check in half, bared some fangs, and I thought I could hear a faint growl, but maybe it was just the senility of being a middle-aged man. In any case, my sensors detected something interesting was about to take place.

“Ah, I see. Because you have no need of the money, you figured you would tear up the check. My bad,” I chuckled.

Demetria ran in; from my peripheral I could see her distraught.

“I COULD’VE USED THAT MONEY!” She shouted. She didn’t even know how much money was written on the check, she just wanted something.

I thought that if I had her go to another room with the groceries, I could distract her long enough. Ah, that was my bad as well. I should’ve taken a more direct approach with my wording.

“Consider this a symbolic gesture,” she spoke at last, her words as icy as ever. “I’m through dealing with you.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Stop playing coy. This was never about grocery shopping.”

“What?!” Demetria balked. “So I carried all that stuff for nothing?! If I find out I have a broken back, It’ll be your fault!” I did enjoy her presence, but I wished I could ignore her for the time being.

“Then what was it about?” I kept my focus on Remora. She answered with a question of her own.

“Guess who I met while I was down there?”

“Who?”

“Someone from a past life, apparently.”

Ah. So she figured it out. Just as I hoped she would. My smile widened. Although I did not know of any ‘someones from a past life’, hearing that sure did pique my curiosity.

“What ever could you mean?”

“They thought I was that person. The same one you told me about when we first met. Clara Waters. I should have done my research before agreeing to go down there. Turns out the city you sent me to was the same one she died in.”

“Oh?” Looks like the cat was out of the bag. “Did you find anything else out?”

“Stop with the games, you sick old man. Because of you, they think I’m this dead person come back to life or something. I can’t be that person for them.”

Hmm...which of us are playing games, now?

“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, tell me, which do you prefer: working for the side of evil, or the side of good?”

“What I prefer,” she slammed her fist on the table, but didn’t raise her voice. “Is not being used by others. If you want something from me, tell me and don’t send me on a scavenger hunt.”

“I tried that and you shot my hand, remember?”

She huffed. It sounded more like those breaths you make on chilly days. Either way, she knew I had gotten her on that one.

“Who are we talking about?” Demetria interjected. Ah, well, let her.

“Yes, Remora, who?” I let my sly smile show.

“Look, I escaped that life! All I wanted was to keep to myself, you should have respected that. Instead you decided to dredge up something that doesn’t even have to do with me and now I’m being mistaken for…” She stopped herself.

For...for...almost there…

“For?”

“Just a fucking corpse,” she muttered as she walked away into one of the spare bedrooms. By the looks of things, she wanted to save face. Whatever face she had to lose, anyway.

“Uh, what was that about?” Demetria went up to me and asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” I shook my head.

Remora was angry with me, that much was clear. Even though she had not yelled, her anger could be felt through her tone and her face alone. I really miscalculated what would happen if I played my little experiment, didn’t I?

Demetria, meanwhile, being the devoted follower, ran into the room Remora was in. Luckily for me, Remora had left that room wide open. I pushed back the chair I was in and got up, then walked over to listen to their conversation.

“Hey, is this about that Rhea person my cousin and her wife mentioned?”

“Yes,” from the brisk tone, it was clear that the reply came from Remora.

“So you did know her?”

“Of course. We worked for the same company, though I never saw her. I was just aware of her existence, as well as her reputation. Trust me, she wasn’t someone worth mentioning, nor the type of person you would want to be friends with.”

“Hey, I don’t like my cousin and her wife, either, but they seemed to like her just fine.”

“I never said I didn’t like those two. You don’t know what those two have been through, and it’s not my place to judge.”

“Oh. Er...I guess that’s fair.”

“Though, if they truly did consider themselves friends with her, chalk it up to Stockholm Syndrome.”

“That’s not what that means, y’know?”

“Yes, but for lack of a better term, that’s what I’m calling it. Did you know that she tried to kill them?”

“Oh shit. Really? That’s wack.”

“She wasn’t a good person. She was a cold and merciless killer. All she cared about was eliminating her target.”

“What about you, though?”

“Yes, so was I, but I was the only one who could match her. Anyone else, she could easily have taken out. Even still, had she been given the task to kill me, I’m sure she’d have no problem doing so.”

“If she tries to kill you, I’ll protect you!”

Ah, that sweet summer child (actually, I didn’t know when Demetria’s birthday was. Could have been in the spring or fall. Either way, she didn’t strike me as a winter person).

“I don’t need protecting. She’s dead. If she wasn’t, I wouldn’t even be able to be here.”

Dead giveaway, Remora.

“Oh. Right. Thank goodness, right?”

I peeked in. Remora glared. But not at me, she hadn’t noticed me. Rather, at Demetria.

“Her skills were so unparalleled that the only way she could have died was if she were to have willed it. The fact that she’s gone means that she wanted it so. For that reason alone, I do not mourn her.”

“How unsympathetic of you, Remora,” I butted in.

“You,” she looked up.

I chuckled. “Just as Demetria said, there must be some reason why people would have liked her.”

Remora growled.

“If you know anything about her, you’d know she’s not the type of person you’d want to meet. Especially if you were her target.”

“Yeah, she sounds scary,” Demetria agreed. “Scary hot, too,” she then whispered.

Remora began packing up. “I’ve got my own home to return to. I can’t stand being here any longer.”

“You shouldn’t worry about her so much!” Demetria seemed to try to comfort. “I think you’re pretty great, and I’ll do anything to cheer you up! Let me know what you need me to do! You can even step on me, if you’d like! I’ll even thank you for it!”

“You’re being overbearing,” Remora replied.

“Me?! Overbearing?!” Demetria balked. “I resent that remark! My mom is overbearing! I think I’m being the right amount of bearing!”

Remora took her bag and shoved past both Demetria and I. Just as Remora was about to go through that door, Tigershark entered, who had been in the bathroom up until then. She ran up and hugged Remora.

“I’m leaving now,” Remora announced.

“Can I come too?” Tigershark asked.

“Sure.”

The two walked off.

“What about me? Take me with you!” Demetria called after them. Tigershark turned around and stuck her tongue out. Then, as the two disappeared, Demetria turned back to me.

“Have I mentioned that I don’t like kids?” She pointed behind her with her thumb.

“Demetria, go work on the dining area,” I suggested.

“Why? There’s never any customers. I know! I’ll make her a cake! That’ll cheer her up!” Then she paused. “I don’t know how to make a cake. Teach me!”

“I think you should give her some space.”

“I don’t have to do that!” She declared while pointing at me. “I’m not on her naughty list! You are!” Then she looked away and muttered. “Though I wish I was on her naughty list…”

What I wouldn’t give to be young again and have the same amount of energy as her. It brought a smile to my face, to think of the prime years. However, I realized that I had caused quite the kerfuffle and it weighed on me. I looked down and smiled.

“It would please me if you mopped up the dining area. You never know when a customer will arrive.”

She groaned, along with a heavy, exaggerated sigh for good measure. “Fine. But no one’s shown up since I’ve been here.”

It pained me to admit, but she was right. However, I didn’t know the exact cause of the lack of patrons as of late and I wanted to believe that it was just an anomaly and that the pace would pick back up in due time. The most unfortunate bit about the whole mystery was so far, no rumors have surfaced of any possible explanations. Then again, could a lack of customers even be called a mystery? Such a thing should be expected for any business.

While the lovestruck scholar did her servant work, I stepped into the kitchen. There were dishes aplenty to do from all the meals I’ve made for Tigershark. Dishes I should have done, as I would in the past do right away, with the greatest of ease, but, being in my shape and age, I was slowing down just a little. Had to relearn a few skills here and there.

Through the window to the dining room, I spied Demetria swinging around a mop as if it were a sword. She then slipped on some water and fell onto the floor. After looking around, she got up and continued to mop. All of that begged the question, did she know that I could see what she was doing?

Before I could dwell on such a question, the front door opened and the bell above rang. I focused my attention to the left to see who it was, and found myself glad to see such a familiar face. However, the test was to see how well my little worker bee could perform as waitstaff for a customer.

Right on cue, she welcomed him in. He sat at a booth and she pulled out a notepad and pen.

Was she prepared for something like this? Has she been studying? Well, I’ll be.

“Welcome in, what will you have today?”

So far so good…

“Coffee,” he replied, his voice gruff.

“Right,” she scribbled it down. “Coffee...sugar? Cream? Cream and sugar?”

“Black.”

“Eep! Right!”

She ran over to me. Ah, so she knew where I was after all.

“Um, Mr. Sunshine, there’s a customer and he wants coffee. I don’t know what to do.”

I smiled. “Demetria, take a breath. You’re doing just fine.”

She made a few hand motions and took a few breaths. Not slow, though. Rather fast, like she just wanted to get it over with. With my good hand, I wagged my finger, as if to say “just a sec,” then walked over to the coffee machine.

After pouring a cup of coffee, I handed it to her.

“Bring it to the kind man, then ask him what he would like to eat.”

“What about a menu?”

I waved my hand. “There is no menu. Now do your best.”

She balked, but didn’t utter a word.

“Here’s your coffee, have you decided what you’d to order?”

He took a sip, then set it down. “Mm. I can taste the grounds. Just how I like it.”

Yes, he always did have impeccable taste.

“Um...compliments to the chef?” She tried to muster some nervous laughter.

“Who are you, anyway?” His eyes darted from side to side. His type could never be too careful, and could I blame him?

“My apologies! I’m Demetria, I’m new here!”

“Where’s Ray?”

“He’s in the kitchen.”

Iff that man were an enemy of mine, I wouldn’t have liked that answer. At least I had built good enough relations with most of the regulars.

“So, what’ll you be having?” She persevered. Bless her heart.

“I’ll keep it simple for you’s. All I want is a stack of sloppy Joe pancakes. Capisce?”

“Sloppy…” She began scrawling it down. “Oh, by the way, nice getup. Going for a mafia cosplay or something?”

What was she doing? Trying to ease the tension? Oh my…

“What’s it to ya?”

“Just curious. What are ya, some kinda time traveler? Like, hello, the 1930s called and they want their mobsters back.”

Yes, Tony over there was wearing his usual pinstripe suit and bowler cap. In his mouth was a cigar, the ashes falling into his cup of coffee.

“What do you know about time travel, kid?”

“Eep!” She jolted. His voice sounded grim, as if he were about to pull a gun on her.

To think she was doing so well...oh well, for her first time, I would give it an A for effort. However, we would have to work on her conflict resolution skills.

“Oh Demetria,” I called to her. “A word?”

She scurried over.

“Tony here is a regular in this establishment and someone I’d like you to treat with upmost respect,” I informed her.

“Yeah, and how am I not doing that? By the way, the guy wants sloppy Joe pancakes. I held my tongue on that one, but really?”

Not what I was referring to, but a good point as well.

“Good for you. However, if you say certain...things...it may give people ideas. Things like time travel and the like.”

“What? You can’t be serious, right? That’s not even a real thing! I was just joking around.”

“Even still, to certain people, it’s very real. Such things as time travel and alternate dimensions may not mean much to people like you and I, but to someone like him, it could be a serious matter.”

“I don’t get it, but okay. Just Sci-Fi nonsense to me.”

“Hey, Ray! What you doin’ bein’ all shy?” Tony called out to me. Drat. I’ve been caught.

I stepped out of the kitchen and greeted him.

“Tony, how’s it been?” I drifted over to his booth. “How’s your husband?”

“Who, Al? He’s fine. Always complainin’ about my taste, tho. I keep tellin’ him, all’s I need’s is your Sloppy Joe pancakes. Simple, but effective. Just like the family business.”

I laughed. “You flatter me, Tony.”

He pointed his beefy thumb at Demetria. “Who’s the gal?”

“I figured it was time to hire some staff, y’know? Can’t just be doing all the work. I found this poor orphan girl off the streets. No education, nothing. So I decided to take her under my wing.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know –”

“How kind of you, Ray. Always lookin’ out for them little folks. Say, what’s Sunny up to?”

“Off tomb raiding. She said she caught wind of a dragon statue. She wants to recover it before any sort of museum gets to it first. Philanthropy, and all.”

I took out my phone and showed her a picture she had sent me just a couple days ago.

“Look at her, Tony! Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She really is a dame.”

I beamed. “Look, I can show you more, too! She really is the light of my life!”

“That’s what matters, innit? Say, ever look into that rumor? Was it Rhea?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, Tony. Turned out it was just a regular indigenous hunter. We chatted a bit, then we parted ways.”

“Damn. Got my hopes up thinkin’ she was alive. I’ll never forgive her for what she did to my men. If she weren’t dead, I’d kill her, myself.”

Yikes. Just how many messes have you made for yourself over the years?

“My regards. Unfortunately, I can’t bring her back any more than you can.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Well, I’ll go get started on your pancakes. Nice catchin’ up with you, Tony.”

“Call me Antonio. Al calls me Tony.”

I gave a hearty laugh.

“Very well, Antonio.”

Before I could make my way back to the kitchen, he called to me once more.

“Can I expect to see you at my daughter’s wedding?”

“You come to me with this on a day that I’m cooking? Tell you what, I’ll think about it.”

“Forget about it. Just make sure you make a mean Sloppy Joe.”

I gave one of those “chef’s kiss” gestures, and danced right along into the kitchen. Unbeknownst to me, Demetria had followed me in.

“What was that about just now? All of a sudden it’s like everyone knows who this ‘Rhea’ person is but me!”

I smiled, preparing the pancake batter. One handed, of course.

“Oh, nothing.” I looked around the room. From what I could tell, nothing had been planted that could listen in on us from here.

“Bullshit! How do you know her?”

“Hehe, you could say she was just ‘the one who got away’.”

“So what, a crush or something?”

Ha. Now there was a concept.

“Tell me, dear, would you find yourself having a crush on someone like that, were you to meet her?”

“No way! I’ve only got eyes for Remora!”

“Mm...while I do love Tony like a brother, he’s got a personal grudge he wishes he could settle, and while his anger is justified, I’d rather not have our dear friend Remora be attacked under false pretenses. Understand?”

“Yeah, sure,” she looked worried. I could also tell by the look on her face that she was thinking something like “just what the hell did I get myself into?” Ah, but that’s the service industry for you.

Once I finished making the Sloppy Joe pancakes, I brought the plate over to Tony and set it down. “Here you go. Would you like more coffee, by the way?”

“I shouldn’t. Doctor says my blood pressure’s already at risk.”

“Good call. I’d hate for the next time to see you to be at your funeral.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he nudged me, which reminded me of the issue in the back of my mind.

“Say, Ton...er...Antonio, any idea where everyone’s been? I’ve had nary a customer as of late.”

He shrugged, tapped his cigar into the coffee mug, then answered:

“No idea. I’ve just been hanging out at home with Al. We’ve got our own business to maintain. Family’s a busy profession.”

Don’t I know that.

“No clue at all? No rumors or gossip or anything?”

Again with the nudge.

“I know that’s your thing, brother, but when I say I have no idea, I mean I have no idea. Believe me, I miss when this place was full of life just as much as you do.”

Full of life. Back when killers, thieves, and arctic researchers could share the same space as your everyman. Ah, those were the days. It didn’t seem all that long ago, but that was just the thing: year and a half could go by fast.

So many things coincided; The death of ‘Clara Waters’, the lack of customers, the blizzards which have taken lives, the appearance of strange and previous unheard of creatures. But whether they all had to do with each other or they were all a coincidence were yet to be determined. Until more pieces fell into place, they were merely coinciding events, and nothing more, as coinciding events didn’t mean that they were all connected.

Tony finished his plate, then got up and went about his way.

“Bring Al with you next time!” I called to him. “I’m tired of hanging around an empty restaurant!”

He waved goodbye without so much as a word. I didn’t take it personally, it was just a trait of his inherited by the family business he maintained. I picked up the plate and took it to the kitchen for a good wash. Afterward, I sat in the diner at one of the booths next to the window and stared out. Darkened purple skies, a white and barren landscape losing its tint little by little as dusk approached.

As I sipped a fresh cup of flowery pekoe tea, I wondered when I would encounter another customer; none showed up for the rest of the night. Once I realized that, I locked the doors and shuttered the blinds, then made my way to the back, where the desk filled with stacks of papers next to my desktop computer, all of which served to compile the requests and rumors Sunny and I have received. Flurries were sent in daily, and it was my job at the end of the day to sort through and figure out which ones I wished to tackle.

Just like any old mail, most were junk. But it was still important to sift through it all, as a gem could be found in the filth. Some folks offered a great deal of money for what might have seemed like the simplest of things. There were folks who sent the things they found most prescient in a letter, as they believed the information too sensitive to be sent over E-mail. Couldn’t say that I blamed them for that, either.

Lost in the shuffle of the requests, I failed to notice the swivel chair in front of my desk moving on its own. No, that wasn’t right. I leaned up to find Demetria crouched over, knees up, and spinning herself around with the edge of my desk as support.

“Are you having fun?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, her voice low and dull. Reminded me of Remora already.

So this is what she’s like when not in her presence. Fascinating.

“You might make yourself sick if you keep doing that,” I cautioned.

“I don’t care. I have nothing to fixate on.”

“Well, what kind of things are you interested in?”

“Fish and Remora.”

How convenient.

“Oh. That makes sense, seeing as a remora is a fish. How did you meet our cold friend, anyway?”

“At an aquarium. She was looking at remoras.”

“How fitting.”

That was so simple. It made too much sense.

I had to hold back laughter. Those two were so ridiculous (no matter how much either of them might try to deny) that it bordered on adorable.

“How come that guy earlier never paid for his meal?” She asked.

Ah, a splendid question. One that I didn’t have to answer, but would anyway.

“There are ways to provide payment outside of monetary compensation.”

“I see...prostitution?”

I spat out. “What? Why did you jump to something like that?”

She shrugged.

“I run a respectable establishment.”

“Sure you do. That’s why you serve mafia cosplayers.”

“There’s an old adage,” ah, there we go. An opportunity to teach the younger generation. “Something like ‘the way to someone’s heart is through their stomach’, or at least, that’s how I think it went. I don’t know, my grandma used to tell it to me. Anyway, the best way to get on someone’s good side is to serve them a nice meal. If you can get on someone’s good side, you might find them useful to you in the future.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Teach me to make a cake so I can get in Remora’s good graces!”

I gave a wild hoot to that one.

“Didn’t I tell you that you should give her some space?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I don’t even know where she lives.”

Such logic. I had to remember that one.

“What about you?” She asked. “You’re the one she’s mad at, or have you forgotten?”

“How could I forget? It was only earlier today. But yes, you’re right. I’m the reason she walked out and she had every right to do so. If the connection I was hoping to build has been severed, that is on me.”

“Great. So if she never shows up again, I’ll blame you? The whole reason I came here in the first place was because of her.”

“Just give it some time.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. I don’t really want to go back to my old life, anyway. My mom and my former roommate have been texting me and I keep leaving them on read because I don’t know what to say.”

“Are they worried about you?”

“Yeah, it’s real annoying. I just want them off my back, but I don’t wanna be rude about it.”

“Have you ever considered lying?”

She gasped. “That’s brilliant! Why haven’t I thought of that? Hmm...but I still wouldn’t know what to say.”

“What’s your roommate been saying?”

“Stuff like ‘what the fuck? Why haven’t you been at uni? Are you okay? Your mom keeps asking me if I’ve seen you, which I haven’t. She thinks you might’ve gotten kidnapped or something.’ I want to reassure them both I’m okay, but I don’t want them to know that I’ve dropped out and come all the way up here because of some crush.”

At least she was aware of her predicament. Admittedly, it didn’t quite look good to be dishonest and while I loved to revel in trickery, I could tell what kind of person she was.

“What did you study?”

“Marine biology.”

“I see...how about something almost honest?”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s quite easy. Something like ‘hello, sorry to worry you, I’ve taken a job studying marine life in the arctic. It’s been going great, but I’ve been too busy to get back to you!’ How does that sound?”

“Oh my god! Thank you!”

I smiled. “Not a problem. I was young once, too. What better age to make mistakes than your twenties?”

“...I take back what I said. I’m just pursuing my dream, how’s that a mistake?”

Dream or fantasy?

“Right. It must be me that made a mistake. It could be my old age setting in. After all, it can’t be called a mistake if you have yet to regret it.”

She yawned, stretched, then got up.

“Well, I’m gonna brush my teeth and get some shut eye.”

“Novel idea,” I agreed. If I had any sanity left in me, I would do the same.

Just a few days later, early in the morning, after we had shared a nice breakfast of eggs au gratin, Demetria and I once again found ourselves in the same place; in the back of the restaurant, bored out of our minds.

“This is all your fault,” she complained.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Before our conversation had a chance to spiral into a boredom induced argument, someone burst through the door: Tigershark. Alone, no less.

“What? Tigershark? What are you doing here?” I jumped out from my seat.

“I’m hungry!” She shouted.

Oh, right. I forgot how much that kid liked my cooking.

“Did you come out here all by yourself?” While I didn’t have a problem with Remora not wishing to speak with me, I’d hope that the kid didn’t come on her own.

“Yeah, why?”

Ugh. That was what I was afraid of.

“You really shouldn’t do that. It’s dangerous out there. No place for a kid to be wandering out alone.”

“I can handle it! I’m strong!” She roared.

“That may be so, but I’d still prefer it if nothing bad happened to you.”

I really thought you were more responsible than that, Remora.

“What gives? Do you and her have joint custody of Tigershark?” Demetria asked.

I shook my head and smiled.

“Not really. I’m not fit for raising a child. Actually, I have a daughter of my own and I love her to death. Would you like to see a picture?”

Demetria shook her head. “No thanks.”

“So, Tigershark, is Remora coming back?” I turned my attention to the child present.

“She’ll come back sooner or later! She likes your food too much to stay away! She’s just grumpy!”

Did she really, or was it just Tigershark who liked my food? That I wondered.

“I see. Good to hear she’s well.”

“I’ve been learning things from her, too! She taught me about culture! She pulled out a whiteboard and said you’re bad culture and she’s good culture!”

That was one way to teach someone about culture, I suppose.

“What was her reasoning?”

“Because you trick people and bring up irrelevant things! And she’s honest and...um...not complicated!”

Demetria knelt down and put her hands on Tigershark’s shoulders.

“Did she say anything about me?” She asked her.

“Yeah, she said she didn’t know what to make of you, so she put you in the middle.”

She held her head low and smiled. “There’s still hope for me.”

Don’t tell me she’s about to get all teary-eyed about that.

“I just want some food!” Tigershark demanded. “Make me crepes! Or waffles! I don’t care!”

Did...did she run all the way over here just for me to make her food? If so, I too was at a risk of getting teary-eyed.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Demetria pointed to the room down the hall she stayed in. “Only so much social interaction I can do, and kids annoy me, anyway.”

“Fine by me,” I turned to her with a smile. “Enjoy your rest.” Then, I turned back to Tigershark.

“How about both crepes and waffles? With strawberries and ice cream?”

“Hell yeah!”

Thus, Tigershark and I spent a nice day together, starting with a sugary breakfast. Now, being the age I was, it was important to watch my figure. So I opted to partake in but a few strawberries. It was more important that she get something to eat, anyway.

Afterward, she jumped up, as if the fill of food had no affect on her.

“I wanna see the penguins!”

I tilted my head before remembering what she had called me during our first encounter. ‘Penguin Man’. However, there had to be some kind of mistake, right?

“Dear, there are no penguins around here. They live in Antarctica, in the south pole. We live closer to the north pole, where Santa lives.”

“Then let’s see both!”

Oh my.

“Okay, well, you see, south is the opposite of north…” Wait. Why was I explaining something like that? She already knew north from south, I was sure of it.

“I know there’s penguins! My parents were researching them!”

“Up here?”

Could it be? Add that to the list of strange happenings. That blizzard that took her parents, the grisly deaths of everyone in that research base. Then, if they were researching penguins in the north...well, what a finding indeed.

“Very well,” I relented. “Let’s go out and see what we can find. Even if we don’t see any penguins, I’m sure there are other nice things to see.”

Now, now, Ray. Don’t let your curiosity get the better of you. There is a child with you, my inner Sunny told me. Yes, I had to remind myself such things as after all, there was a reason why Elodie didn’t live up here with Sunny and I. Why I refused to see my own daughter.

“Stay close to me,” I called to her. My words failed to reach her; she ran around, and yelled how strong she was in defiance.

“I’ve learned many things!” She pulled out from under her sweater two stakes, tied by a tight series of strings joined together.

I know that patchwork anywhere. Guess she’s applied things both Remora and I taught her.

“I carved the stakes myself, and I tied them together myself, too!”

“Impressive,” I clapped. “What do you plan to do with them.”

“I don’t know yet!” She declared, then ran off.

Dammit. I told you to stay close.

The chase between her and I went on for what seemed like several kilometers in the snow until we both came to a halt. Out on the horizon, we saw a group of penguins. Yes, there could be no denying it; I tried rubbing my eyes, wiping the lens of my glasses, all to no avail. There was no mistaking what I saw. The only question was: how?

Tigershark flapped her arms. “Waddle waddle!” She started to do a funny walk, as if to mimic them.

I was at a loss on how to react. It all looked innocent enough, but sirens went off in my mind. As if two ecosystems merging as one. How that might affect things, I didn’t know. For the moment, I just let her have her fun.

Ever get the feeling that something was just a little bit...off? That everything looked and felt normal, except for something being just a little out of place. But everything else around it acted as it would have any other day, as if to suggest the thing that was off was also normal.

That was the feeling I was experiencing. There wasn’t a clear and present danger, and yet I felt sinister vibes in the air, all the same. Said vibes defied all logic, but then, so did the very things in front of me.

“Tigershark, dear, I think we should head back home now.”

“We just got here!”

“Yes, and this is enough excitement for one day.”

Just as I uttered such words, a chill ran through me, a blistering breeze.

No, apparently this isn’t enough excitement.

She ran over to me. Thank goodness.

“What’s going on?”

I had no answer. Something told me a blizzard was about to roll in. Perhaps the same blizzard and fog that has been plaguing the region for a while now.

As I felt the winds against me grow harsher, I watched the group of penguins walk away, as if they too could sense something.

“Let’s follow them,” I patted her head.

“Yay!”

Yes, that sounded rational. To walk against the wind’s pressure. Then again, I was about ready to throw any sense of rationality out the window if it meant ensuring her safety.

We followed the ‘penguins’ to a cave opening and took shelter in there. I peered over my shoulder to see the creatures we had followed either dissolve or become one with the cavernous walls. Whether that meant that they were never penguins to begin with, or an illusion, I couldn’t say.

“Where did the penguins go?” She looked around.

“Where indeed…” I stroked my chin. From outside the cave, the blizzard began to rage.

The two of us sat together.

“What were you going to do with that thing?” I pointed to her invention.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Wrap it around a penguin and take one home with me?”

I laughed. “And here I thought you were going to use it as a weapon.”

Her eyes lit up.

“I can still do that! I’ll wrangle a shark!”

I don’t doubt that you could.

As the storm died down, so did the daylight, and the skies began to darken. Tigershark was beside me, having fallen asleep. I nudged her.

“Hey kiddo, you’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”

“But I wanna catch a cod…” she mumbled in her sleep.

I nudged her once more and that time, she jolted up.

“Let’s go back to the diner. I’ll cook you a nice dinner.”

She grinned. I knew I had won her over.

“Okay, now this time, for real, stay close beside me,” I told her.

“How are you able to see so well in the dark?” She asked, ignoring my instruction. At least she didn’t outright reject it like last time.

“Because I have ‘Dad Vision’.”

“What’s that? Can I get it too?”

“You have to be a dad first.”

“Oh! So when I’m old like you!”

I didn’t feel like telling her such things like how I wore a special pair of glasses which allowed me to adjust the lighting of my surrounding environment. Some things were more fun when left to the imagination.

We were about halfway back home when a howl erupted. Not a howl of wind, rather a wolf’s howl. But also had a tinge of a roar to it, like a warning signal. As if to state “I’m on my way.”

Could it be a wolf? Pack of wolves? Possibly a polar bear?

My mind raced. If it were just me, that would be one thing, but I was with Tigershark, and for all her talks of being strong, I feared what would happen were she to get attacked by a polar bear.

I grabbed the back of her jacket with my good hand.

“Hey! Let go of me!” She squirmed, but as the creature, which I had yet to catch a glimpse of, drew closer, I held tight, until I could hear it leap forward. Then, I took a step back, in the nick of time.

We were still too close for me to be able to let go of her, even though holding a person, however little, was difficult when you only had one hand to work with.

Tigershark bit my arm and I flinched. Whatever fear she should have had, being a child, she didn’t, and instead, was a little too eager. She dropped to the soft, white ground.

“Yaa!�� She yelled as she swung her double-staked contraption and whacked the creature right at the side of its jaw and to my surprise, even managed to puncture through its cheek. With a yelp, droplets of blood spilled from the frothing mouth of the creature, but aside from the few second lapse, it showed no sign of relenting its attack, and latched its teeth onto the stake, then bit down and yanked it, pulling Tigershark forward.

In that moment, I was frozen in awe of the strangeness of the creature, being some odd combination of a polar bear with its white fur, a sabertooth tiger with the two long, upward fangs, and its legs a more grotesque and thin than the short and stubby of a bear. Its stance brought to mind a grasshopper, more than anything else.

But more than that, I felt frozen and helpless as images flashed in my mind of back when Elodie lived with Sunny and I. To think a similar scene might play out before me with another child...that was all I could think about as the creature lifted up a paw with needle-like claws and ready to swipe at Tigershark.

“AAAA –” I cried out.

“Ray?” She asked, right behind me. There was a certain tear in her voice, to which, there might have been some tears of my own. From the pain? Heh, I would have rather chalked it up to frostbite.

I had managed to step in front of the attack right on time, but in doing so, my cheek had been torn up.

Before we could celebrate, the creature reached its jaw forward, mouth open wide, ready to bite my head clean off. Rather than allow that, I took the other end of Tigershark’s stake contraption and shoved it upward with enough force to tear through its jaw.

Looks like all my cooking experience paid off. Just think of what feats I could have accomplished had I use of both of my hands.

That time, it was the creature’s turn to howl out in pain, and I took the opportunity to take Tigershark and run off with her.

“My weapon!” She cried.

“We can make you a new one later,” I assured her.

Our escape was short lived, not that I expected any different. Both of us halted, and I watched as the creature circled around us.

“What do we do now?” She turned to me.

I smiled, excitement starting to get the better of me.

“This thing is much faster than us. It’s trying to catch us off guard, or catch us in a misstep. I think it knows, though, that whatever we do, it will catch us.”

My good hand shook. I knew it would be sore in the morning. Ah, well, I’d rather not think of my actions as a mistake, especially not in the moment. All the same, I reached into my pocket.

What’s more important: speed or reflexes?

“I’m curious what you are,” I addressed the creature. “But then, I know if I am the embodiment of curiosity, then you must be the cat.”

Even if the analogy fit, my own face felt a little too Cheshire than what the situation called for.

Sure enough, the creature ran toward us. It tried to flank us to the side, where we might have been most vulnerable.

But just as it acted, so did I: several needles were thrown from out of my hand, each needle tied to a steel thread. The needles attached themselves to the creature’s paws, as well as its upper ends of its legs. To the creature, such needles might have felt like nothing. Perhaps just a light sting. But soon, the sensation would be so much greater, as I let go of all the strings, then in my pocket, flipped the switch.

Electricity began to crackle through the steel threads and run their way up to each point of the needle. Soon, both Tigershark and I watched as electricity surged throughout the creature and it convulsed in place, all while howling. Wait. Shit.

“You should look away,” I urged her.

Looks like such a plea wasn’t necessary. She had already fallen asleep on the ground.

I wonder when that was. Did she even watch the creature get electrocuted or did I just think she did? Get it together, Ray. You’re going senile.

As for my latest discovery, it had not been killed. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. With the creature alive, but paralyzed, I was able to pull out my phone and take a picture.

Snap.

There, picture taken. Proof of an unknown creature.

I went up to Tigershark and reached both arms out to lift her up. Easier said than done, but while I didn’t have both hands to work with, I still had two arms. It was just a little awkward, is all. More elbow and shoulder movements.

After a while, I found myself carrying her on my back, unsure how I even managed such a feat. I felt less like a Ray and more like a turtle. Oh well. At least the little shark was safe.

Once we made it back to the diner, I took her to one of the rooms in the back, and set her on the bed. Then, I went over to my desk and sat slouched over.

“I need to reevaluate my lifestyle,” I sighed.

The next day, I tasked Demetria with watching over Tigershark and making sure she didn’t leave the building. I had a feeling Tigershark could overpower her, but I told Demetria I’d teach her to make a cake if she watched over Tigershark, so I didn’t think I had too much to worry about.

As for me, I went on a little walk down to where Remora resided.

I gave the front door two light taps.

She opened and looked not too pleased to see me.

“Rather than ask how you know where I live, instead I’ll ask what you’re doing here.”

“I’m not fit to be a parent,” I opened up with. There was no smile on my face as I said that. If there were any expression at all, it would be one of defeated acceptance.

“I’m not surprised, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Tigershark was with me yesterday. She nearly got hurt. Badly.”

“Yet another reason why you are bad culture.”

“Yeah. Okay. I deserve that.”

“Is that all you’re here for? To tell me that? In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Right. I understand that. But I figured since it pertained to Tigershark, you’d want to know.”

“Is she okay?”

I nodded.

“Good. Then you can leave me alone.”

She was about to close the door on me, but I blocked the door with my foot.

“There’s something else. Then, I can leave you alone.”

“I could shoot you right now, you know.”

“But then who would cook you such delicious food?”

“Fine. Say what you want, then leave.”

Looks like Tigershark was right.

“There’s something I failed to mention when I first met you.”

“What?”

“Those rumors about you, they were spread by people who would want you dead.”

“What do I care how someone wants me? They can’t have me. I’m not on the market.”

“Damn it, Rh...Remora, what I’m saying is that there are people who may still go after you if they saw you because of who you resemble.”

“Sounds like their problem, not mine.”

“Yes, well...such people, some of them are customers of mine. I’ve no doubt that you can hold your own, but I’d rather neither party get killed, you know?”

“Shit happens.”

I huffed. “What I’m trying to get at is that I’ve got a proposal for you: come back and stay at the back of the diner. I’ll put you in charge of the requests side of things. You can choose what requests get accepted, who takes what, and which get ignored. If any customers show up, I’ll tell them you’re a good friend of mine, and that you work with me.”

“I think I’d rather someone want me dead than think the two of us are friends.”

Ouch.

“Look, I’ve learned my lesson: my place is in the kitchen. No more tricks, just treats.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Doubt all you want. But what do you say: will you accept?”

“I don’t think I should be taking any proposals from bad culture. I’ve got a chart, if you’re having trouble understanding.”

“Yes. I deserve that. I should have been more honest. I’m really sorry about that.”

“I’ll think about it.” Were her last words, before closing the door, and this time for good.

For my effort, hearing ‘I’ll think about it’ was better than had she said ‘no.’ At least I could work with that.

Later in the evening, after a long day of no customers and two rowdy little helpers chasing each other around, I sat back in my usual seat. Stacks of papers, my monitor. All that jazz. Nothing changed.

At least those two fell asleep. Leaves me some room to breathe.

The door which faced me opened. The same one which led to the restaurant side of the building. To my surprise, I looked up and saw Remora.

She sat down at one of the chairs next to the wall and stared at me. There was a pause of the two of us just facing each other before she spoke up:

“I saw her.”

“Who?” The first person that came to mind was Tigershark. Next was Sunny.

“When you had me go to that city. I paid a visit to the morgue.”

“Whoa. Preserved that long?”

She shook her head, as if such a detail was irrelevant.

“It was strange. This person who I once shared an identity with, but who lived a life unknown to me.”

“That’s how it goes, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?” She asked.

“Just rumors. After that, I did some research of my own. There’s not really much to it.”

“Yet it’s like you knew such intimate details. Almost like an assassin’s relationship with their target.”

I let out a laugh. I couldn’t help it.

“I just like to gather as much information as possible.”

“It’s just strange. That you know so much about me while I know so little of you.”

“I’m sure you could find out plenty about me. Besides, if it’s any consolation, all I know about you is what is known of her. By your own admission, you and her led two different lives. I knew neither her life, nor yours. I just found the two of you interesting.”

“Heh,” she smirked. “If you were more interesting, I’d dig up plenty of dirt. Still, I’ll make it a habit to keep my wits about you.”

“Good practice in general,” I agreed.

“It was strange. Seeing her,” she continued. “We really were identical. If I hadn’t dyed my hair, it would have been a perfect replica. It was like looking in a mirror.”

“You could say it was like a re –”

“Careful. Unless you want to lose function in your other hand as well.”

That time it was my turn to smirk.

“So you knew?”

“I could tell.”

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag on that one, too.”

I lifted my arm with the bad hand; I couldn’t move the hand at all.

“I didn’t realize it would be that bad when you shot it, and it didn’t start out that bad, but it started getting numb over time, and I had Dr. Cole-Slaw take a look at it. She said all my nerves in my hand were gone. Simply put, it’s paralyzed.”

“Have you been managing okay?”

“Ah! Good question! Pretty well, actually! It’s forced me to be a little more creative with my usual tasks. I’m a little slower, in some regards, but it’s not been all that bad.”

“Have you told your wife?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I only need one hand to please her.”

She made gagging sounds. “Sorry I asked.”

“Don’t mention it,” I waved it off.

“Still, impressive. That wasn’t an ordinary bullet. You should have faced worse than that. Like your whole arm getting blown off. You must have pretty tough skin.”

“Let’s just say it’s not my first time getting shot at. Dr. Cole-Slaw considered me lucky as well, but also suspects all those lucky breaks I’ve gotten in the past must have caught up with me. If only slightly.”

“That’s good. How’s Tigershark?”

“She’s well. Asleep in one of the rooms down the hall. You know, I’d really prefer if she didn’t run off by herself.”

She shrugged. “When I was her age, I was already a trained assassin.”

“Have you ever thought that just because that was the case for you, that doesn’t mean it should have been?”

“Yeah. Of course. I wouldn’t want her to be a trained assassin. I’m just saying, she’s strong.”

“That is true, but she’s still a kid.”

“Well, if I’m going to send you out to fulfill requests, it should be fine. I can watch her just fine.”

“So you mean…?”

“It might be fun to give orders rather than take them.”

“I’m sure someone else around here would be happy to hear that,” I teased.

“What?” She leaned forward. “What do you mean by that?”

I whistled. “Oh, nothing.” I got up. “Well, have fun at the desk. The room to your right is still open, whenever you think you can get some sleep. I’m headed to bed, myself.”

To my right, there was a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway. Upstairs was where Sunny and I slept, although most nights, it was just me. But I was fine with that. Because I knew she would return soon, and every moment with her was a treasure. Oh, but before I head up and turn in for the night…

“Glad to see you again, Remora,” I turned to her.

She nodded. I guess that would have to do.

[ainulindalenya]

Song of Eldamar

At @snailbird ‘s request. Please ignore some, uh, tiny errors in the tengwar that I posted.

Lirnen lassion, lassion laureva, ar lassi laureva lohtanë: Þúrio lirnen, þúrë túlë ar i olvassen þúnë. Anar pella, Isil pella, i winga né i airessë, Ar ara i falassë Ilmarino tuianë laurë’ alda. Undu i eleni Oioþinyëo Eldamaressë calles, Eldamaressë ara i rambar Tirionwa Eldaron. Tanomë andë i laurië lassi arahtier loassen pantala, Sinomë i ëari hátala pella sí lantëar Eldaníri. A Lórien! I hrívë tulë, i helda ar úlassëa aurë; I lassi lantëar i sirildë, i sirya oar sirë. A Lórien! Andavë amárien Entarda sinassë Ar ríessë fifírula irícien i laurëa elanor. Mal qui ciryaron sí merin linda, mana cirya tuluva nin, Mana cirya atacoluva inyë olla ta palla ëar?

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew: Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew. Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea, And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree. Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone, In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion. There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years, While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears. O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day; The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away. O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor. But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me, What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

Lirnen lassion, lassion laureva, ar lassi laureva lohtanë: Lirnen: past tense of lir- (to sing), lirnë, + first person singular ending (-n) - I sang lassion: plural genitive of lassë (leaf) – about leaves lassion: plural genitive of lassë (leaf) – about leaves laureva: singular possessive of laurë (gold – indicating color or light, not the metal)  - made of gold ar: conjunction – and lassi: nominative plural of lassë (leaf) – leaves laureva: singular possessive of laurë (gold – indicating color or light, not the metal)  - made of gold lohtanë: past tense of lohta- (to sprout, to put forth leaves or flowers) – sprouted I sang about leaves, about leaves made of gold, and leaves made of gold sprouted

Þúrio lirnen, þúrë túlë ar i olvassen þúnë. Þúrio: singular genitive of þúrë (wind) – about wind lirnen: past tense of lir- (to sing), lirnë, + first person singular ending (-n) - I sang þúrë: nominative singular of þúrë – wind túlë: past tense of tul- (to come) – came ar: conjunction – and i: definite article – the olvassen: locative plural of olva (branch) – in branches þúnë: past tens of þúya- (to breathe) – breathed About wind I sang, wind came and in the branches breathed.

Anar pella, Isil pella, i winga né i airessë, Anar: nominative singular proper noun – The Sun pella: postposition – beyond Isil: nominative singular proper noun – The Moon pella: postposition – beyond i: definite article – the winga: nominative singular noun – foam or spray né: past tense of na (to be) – was i: definite article  - the airesse: locative singular of airë (sea) – on sea Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the sea,

Ar ara i falassë Ilmarino tuianë laurë’ alda. Ar: conjunction – and ara: preposition - beside i: definite article  - the falassë: nominative singular noun – shore or beach Ilmarino: genitive singular of proper noun Ilmarin – of Ilmarin tuianë: past tense of tuia- (to sprout or spring) – sprouted laurë’: singular adjective laurëa (golden), elided due to following vowel - golden alda: singular nominative noun – tree And beside the shore of Ilmarin sprouted (a) golden tree.

Undu i eleni Oioþinyëo Eldamaressë calles, Undu: preposition – under i: definite article  - the eleni: nominative plural of elen (star) – stars Oioþinyëo: genitive singular compound noun, prefix oio- (ever) and þinyë (evening) – of Ever-Evening Eldamaressë: locative singular of proper noun Eldamar – in Eldamar calles: past tense of cal- (to shine), callë + third person singular ending (-s) – it shone Under the stars of Ever-Evening in Eldamar it shone,

Eldamaressë ara i rambar Tirionwa Eldaron. Eldamaressë: locative singular of proper noun Eldamar – in Eldamar ara: preposition – beside i: definite article  - the rambar: nominative plural of ramba (wall) – walls Tirionwa: possessive singular of proper noun Tirion  - belonging to Tirion Eldaron: genitive plural of Elda (elf) – of the Elves In Eldamar beside the walls of Tirion of the Elves.

Tanomë andë i laurië lassi arahtier loassen pantala, Tanomë: adverb – in that place andë: plural of adjective anda (long) – long i: definite article – the laurië: plural of adjective laurëa (golden) – golden lassi: nominative plural of noun lassë (leaf) – leaves arahtier: perfect tense of rahta- (to stretch out, to reach) – have stretched loassen: locative plural  noun loa (year) – in years pantala: active participle of panta- (to spread out, to open) – spreading In that place long the golden leaves have stretched in spreading years,

Sinomë i ëari hátala pella sí lantëar Eldaníri. Sinomë: adverb – in this place i: definite article – the ëari: plural nominative of noun ëar (sea) – seas hátala: active participle of hat- (to break asunder) – sundering pella: postposition  - beyond sí: adverb  - now lantëar: present tense of lanta- (to fall), lantëa + plural ending (-r): are falling Eldaníri: nominative plural compound noun, Elda (Elf) + nírë (tear): Elf-tears In this place beyond the sundering seas now are falling Elf-tears.

A Lórien! I hrívë tulë, i helda ar úlassëa aurë; A: vocative particle – O Lórien: nominative singular noun – Lórien I: definite article – the hrívë: nominative singular noun  - winter tulë: aorist of tul- (to come): comes i: definite article – the helda: adjective – stripped bare ar: conjunction – and úlassëa: singular adjective derived from lillassëa (having many leaves) by substituting the prefix lil- (more) for ú- (denying presence or possession of a thing or quality) – leafless aurë: nominative singular noun – day O Lórien! The winter comes, the bare and leafless day;

I lassi lantëar i sirildë, i sirya oar sirë. I: definite article – the lassi: nominative plural of lassë (leaf) – leaves lantëar: present tense of lanta- (to fall), lantëa + plural ending (-r): are falling i: definite article – the sirildë: locative singular of siril (rivulet) – in rivulet i: definite article – the sirya: nominative singular noun – river oar: adverb – away sirë: aorist of sir- (to flow) – flows The leaves are falling in the rivulet, the river flows away.

A Lórien! Andavë amárien Entarda sinassë A: vocative particle – O Lórien: nominative singular noun – Lórien Andavë: adverb - long, at great length amárien: perfect tense of mar- (to abide), amárië + first person singular ending (-n)- I have abided Entarda: undeclined proper noun (rule of the last declinable word moves its locative declension to the following adjective) - Thither Land (A Valinorean term for Middle Earth) sinassë: demonstrative adjective (this), with locative declension per rule of last declinable word: in this O Lórien! Very long I have abided in this Thither Land

Ar ríessë fifírula irícien i laurëa elanor. Ar: conjunction – and ríessë: locative of ríë (crown)  - in (a) crown fifírula: active participle of fifíru- (to slowly fade) – fading irícien: perfect tense of ric- (to twist) irícië + first person singular ending (-n) – I have twisted i: definite article – the laurëa: singular adjective – golden elanor: nominative singular noun – elanor And in a fading crown I have twisted the golden elanor.

Mal qui ciryaron sí merin linda, mana cirya tuluva nin, Mal: conjunction – but qui: conjunction  - if ciryaron: genitive plural of noun cirya (ship) – about ships sí: adverb  - now merin: aorist of mer- (to wish, desire, want) merë (stem meri-) + first person singular ending (-n) – I wish linda: infinitive of linda- (to sing) – to sing mana: interrogative – what cirya: nominative singular noun – ship tuluva: future of tul- (to come) – will come nin: dative of independent first-person pronoun, ni - for me But if now about ships I wish to sing, what ship will come for me,

Mana cirya atacoluva inyë olla ta palla ëar? mana: interrogative – what cirya: nominative singular noun – ship atacoluva: compound verb from prefix ata- (again, a second time) and the future tense of col- (to bear or to carry), coluva – will carry again inyë: emphatic first-person pronoun (possibly invalid, but I had to use something) – even me, even I olla: preposition – over, beyond ta: adverb – so palla: singular adjective – wide, expansive ëar: nominative singular noun – sea What ship will carry even me again beyond so wide (a) sea?

[what-even-is-thiss]

I love learning new mythology stuff if you want to go in depth about your ideas! Admittedly I know the most about Greek mythology, so you might have to give more details on any other myths you use.

I know the most about Greek/Roman and Norse mythology and a bit from my ancient Egyptian obsession I had back in sixth grade, but I’ve dabbled just a little in Polynesian, Japanese, and Celtic mythology, as well as several folktales from around Europe and one or two Aztec myths, and I’ve been meaning to do some research on the Orisha from eastern Africa I think it is, but haven’t gotten around to it.

Anyways, I’ve been developing a bit of a complicated mythology themed universe in my head and it only gets more confusing as I add more pantheons to the list, so for right now for this explaination I’ll stick with the Greek, Norse, and Egyptian ones, and maybe touch a bit on the Hawaiian stuff, but I’m not as comfortable putting that out there because I’m not overly well read on that yet.

I’m putting a cut here for anybody that doesn’t want to read this, because it gets long and complicated, and I’m not even close to being done with it, and I’m giving you all the simplified version.

So, the beginnings of my idea started when I was reading that wonderful wonderful author Rick Riordin. Specifically a short story crossover between his Egyptian and Greek series. This got me wondering if I could possibly make any of these pantheons coexist long term.

So, I began with what I call cross-pantheon deities. These are children of gods/goddesses from different pantheons. But then I had to figure out a way that these gods could meet each other.

So, the gods of old in this universe are a magical species I call manas deva from the Sanskrit words for “invented” and “god”. They are beings that came to exist because of human belief, and are a bit more contained and limited than the traditional idea of gods, but still the most powerful beings in this universe. And now that they exist, they can go do things like screw a few mortals and dink around with the weather just for the hell of it.

So once in a while you’ll get someone, (probably Zeus if we’re being honest) hanging around a mortal pub or something disguised as a mortal, and another disguised god or goddess disguised as a mortal, and since the pantheons shouldn’t interact with each other they don’t know what to look out for and therefore don’t know they’ve made a huge mistake until the morning after when they both decide to mention oh yeah you just did the thing with a god bye.

And that’s where the cross-pantheon characters come from.

I’m still working on characters and plot, but my main characters are this guy Deon, who is a cross-pantheon son of Zeus Greek god of lightning and being a terrible womanizer, and Freja, Norse goddess of beauty, war, and uh, fertility. The other main character is his twin sister Talin, which is also his half sister. (And yeah, fraternal twins can have different biological dads, it happens look it up) Her dad is Ra, god of the sun and everybody worshiped him in ancient Egypt it was just the cool thing to do.

Our buddy Deon doesn’t like either side of his family, but he kind of depends on them because his immortality is all wonky. Norse deities stay young by eating special golden apples distributed by the goddess of youth and can be killed, whereas Greek gods are just eternally young and can’t die. Deon got an awkward combination of these traits and can’t be killed but still ages, so he has to keep both sides of his family okay with him and not run off to join the mortals or something, because he can’t die and there are complications like lost limbs that can come from that, and he keeps aging, so he needs those sweet sweet golden apples to keep looking like a fresh twenty something, because who wants to spend all of eternity with joint pain? One of his best friends, Asger, son of Aphrodite, son of Odin, has the opposite problem. He’s eternally young but can be killed.

Talin hates her dad and would like to just stay in Vanaheim with her brother and favorite cousins all the time(also she might have a girlfriend there but I haven’t invented her yet), but keeps going back to the sun and puts up with her dad because there are several people there in the realm of gods and spirits that depend on her. I’m still thinking through her motivations and backstory, but she’s shaping up to be quite dangerous. She’s loud and slightly violent and is confrontational in a good way. She believes she knows what is right and will fight for it. She and Deon make nice foils for each other because he is much quieter and shy and prefers a more sneaky or indirect approach to conflict and doesn’t see morals as something set in stone. He has charming abilities and will use his magic to get what he wants, all the while making the other person believe it was their idea. So, she’s the huntress, he’s the trickster. Neither of them are overly gorgeous by society’s standards but have the ability to trick people into thinking that they are because their mom is a love goddess. Does that make sense?

I’ve got all kinds of other side characters I’m working on. None of them are overly developed at this point, but here’s some of my more well thought out ones.

I’m calling this one Jessie for now. She/her Greek/Hawaiian. Dad is Kanaloa, Hawaiian god of the underworld and magic, mom is Kymopoleia, Greek Goddess of sea storms. You’d expect somebody with that parentage to be pretty volatile, and you’d be right. Pansexual Demigirl that’s best friends with Deon and Asger and Deon is a trans guy as of right now, but I might change that later, but anyways, Jessie and Deon first got to know each other as of right now because they both wanted a trans friend and she got to know Asger through Deon. But like I said, I’m thinking about changing a few things we’ll see how it goes.

Apollo. Yes, that Apollo. He looked away from the mirror just long enough to be one of Deon’s mentors and teach him how to shoot. This is a modern day story, so that includes guns as well as bows and arrows. Don’t get the impression he’s a good person here. He’s not. He just chooses to care about his siblings sometimes.

Asger. he/him My one straight cis character. I needed one in there. He’s the son of Aphrodite Greek goddess of love and Odin, leader of the Norse aesir gods. He became friends with Deon after finding out he also had a love goddess mom and they bonded over how their moms are both just the worst. He’s incredibly strong and people often call him if they need a giant or dragon disposed of and Thor isn’t avalible. He’s also good friends with Talin and they bond over being kind of violent. They both like weapons and fighting and whatnot. The Norse gods find them to be fun at parties.

Eric, Dalia, and Astrid. Not much of a backstory for these three yet, but they are former demigods that were made gods after the Norse deities found them useful. They deliver messages, because I noticed the Norse pantheon has a god of messengers, but they don’t have a god whose job it is to deliver messages, so I invented the story of the four messengers. One for each season. Eric son of Loki in the winter, Astrid daughter of Thor in the spring, Dalia daughter of Tyr in the fall, and Deon is the summer messenger. This is an interesting device, because all four of these characters are very powerful and useful, but one of them is missing at any given time, because during the season they work they are busy almost all of the time and the only way to get a hold of them is to deliver a message. I’ve got a whole complicated story planned out how they were all added one at a time over the course of a few centuries, but this post is getting too long anyways.

Freja. Goddess of beauty and war. She runs a house of fallen warriors that are training for ragnarok, same as Valhalla. She seems ditzy and is basically the world’s worst beauty pageant mom, but if you piss her off you will suffer a fate worse than any of the underworld gods/goddesses could imagine for you. Do not cross her. She can run in heels.

Zeus. I don’t need to talk about this guy, do I? He sucks. He just really sucks. Get him out of my face. He’s a horribly abusive parent.

Ra. Good king, bad dad. Argues with other sun gods/goddesses. Sol never has any time to talk to him because she’s being chased by a wolf. For crying out loud, Ra. Stay in your lane. Focus on your own thing. This is why you have like three cross-pantheon kids.

Yeah, those are the more developed ones. I have tons more, but I don’t think I have time to get into those.

As for what kind of plot I’d have in this context? That’s a little fuzzy. I’m thinking something like demigods and minor deities are going missing, and since the gods can’t exactly throw demigods or mortal heroes at the problem, because the problem is that they’re disappearing they send some cross pantheon gods because they’re pretty much on the lowest rung right above mortals in these godly societies and their parents don’t really care for them that much. So, it would probably follow several characters on their quest to find out what the freak is going on and why all these spirits and demigods and favored mortals are disappearing across so many pantheons.

That probably leads to all kinds of shenanigans, including various figures from these mythologies that aren’t supposed to meet crossing paths. I like to imagine a scene ending with Asger smashing in some Greek monster’s head with Mjolnir or a similar Norse weapon. Probably Typhon. Can we have Typhon, a giant monster with insane features and probably bigger than mount everest get defeated by a tap from Thor’s hammer? Please and thank you?

Anyways, it’ll probably be a very long time before I get all of my thoughts together enough to actually get a screenplay together because this is taking a lot of sorting out and it would probably be several movies long, but there’s the bare bones of my mythology themed universe for you. It all takes place in modern day, so imagining Apollo sitting on the couch eating cereal and watching the golden girls on Netflix is totally something you can do, and something I have done, obviously.

Thanks for reading all of that. It’s kind of a lot.

[metamodel]

A Machine For Hammering the Soul, With Robotic Padres

It's a juicy weekend read for you, in defence of piety (!)…

📖📖📖

After taking an extended break from social design work “to get some perspective” (ahem), I find that Everything Now Looks Very Strange Indeed™. This is another one of my updates on restarting a creative practice, with added cultural and design commentary. 

(If someone’s forwarded this thing to you in the hope you’ll find it interesting, you can subscribe here to secure my everlasting love.)

Today I want to write of vibrations of the soul, the experience of the divine and the habit of prayer. With robots. Yes.

I remain a staunch unbeliever, and yet I find that these apparently religious terms become more useful when I’m wrestling with certain practices: of creativity, of recovery, of becoming a better participant in my communities (local or cosmic). Each of these requires me to paradoxically affirm my own sense of agency by simultaneously curbing it.

For example, working on our addictions is never simply a matter of exerting our individual willpower (which is called “white-knuckling it” in recovery culture, and clearly unsustainable); we instead need to make the choice to surrender to the collective agency of community. 

And the other week, my dear friend Janelle and I attended a writer’s meetup that involved everyone sitting down and just doing some fucking writing. As we sat in a zero-ambience pub bistro, beavering away, she passed me a note: 

“THIS FEELS FORCED AND NOT RAD.”

Agreed, the venue was very much not rad, and we weren't a very inspiring sight, but to be fair to the rest of us, Janelle’s own writing is driven by uncommonly strong affective tides that would wreck a less glorious being. I’d argue that for most people, sustainable creativity needs in some way to be “forced”, and this isn’t a bad thing. My own creative endeavours need to be sustained by the scheduled habit of accessing an animating spirit that might reveal itself to the solidarity of a congregation. (It does need a better venue, though. Blech.)

Such appeals to the beyond have given me a new, practical appreciation of the rigours of piety. But lest I be accused by Slavoj Žižek of some lacklustre, postmodern, liberal-secular appropriation of spirituality, I need to leaven this stuff with a good dose of machines and robots to keep it interesting to me. 😉

Eternal return: burials, and when the earth rejects us

First, some follow-up.

Did you know that in this wonderful medium of email newslettering, you can simply reply to any of these missives from me, and that your reply will appear directly in my everyday, personal email inbox? It’s real email. No really, I love this, so replies are encouraged. Meanwhile, I’m really heartened by the generous messages I’ve received from you thus far. Also, I don’t know some of you, and this mixture of the known and unknown is tantalising. 

Answering my call in the last issue for objects that deserve “burial rites/rights" with us, Andrew (who I know can light a fire with his bare hands) replies that “I would bring with me a wooden spoon for my cooking, a headlamp for reading late at night and camping, and a vr headset because I know I won’t be affording one in this lifetime”. That would just be a simulated, still life VR headset then, right?

And Deborah, who wants “to be buried with seeds inside me, so I could be compost” (and who also first pointed me in the direction of socially responsible design, many years ago 😘), also notes that the word “Pandæmonium”, which I used in my last missive to describe the experience of the classroom in the context of exploring All the Things, “was coined to describe the Place Of All The Demons” — the capital of Hell in Milton’s Paradise Lost. So oddly… appropriate.

Deborah also pointed me to “When the rocks turn their backs on us”, Ken Wark’s review of Elizabeth Povinelli’s Geontologies: A Requiem to Late Liberalism:

[T]he Anthropocene is far from being some hubristic discourse about the powers and destinies of Man. It is rather a malignant, viral human presence in geological time. I think here one could read the Anthropocene through the figure of immunity rather than community. It is not the figure of Man becoming sovereign over the community of the biosphere within geological time. It is rather the biosphere immunising itself against forms of (non)life that it can’t endure. 

While I think there’s every reason to despair, this feels a little too enthusiastically misanthropic. (Perhaps Wark is trying to make up for his embarrassing social democratic excesses of the ‘90s.) Not all community is naturalistic, hippy-dippy togetherness and accommodation, and the pain of recognising and negotiating it, against the predations of capital, might offer a bleak kind of hope. I shall ponder. I’ve naturally procured Povinelli’s book and will report back in a future issue.

⚒️🎵 The Hammer Song

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Kandinsky’s "Winter Landscape", 1911[/caption]

The Masters of Modern Art from the Hermitage show could so easily have drifted into Adult Contemporary Viewing territory, but it brought me this amazing quote from Kandinsky:

Colour is the keyboard, the eyes are the hammers, and the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.

The eyes are the hammers. Whoa. Despite its manifest spiritualism, this image builds a model of aesthetics that’s all about resonant, relational assemblages of awesome in which each actor plays a material part. My eyes and yours live together inside a big piano. Fucking yes. This is society and ecology, defined — via aesthetics. The exhibition leaves Sydney this weekend if you want to catch it.

🔪🥀 Nick Cave is a joyful robot monk. Wait, what?

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Nick Cave in conversation. Photo filched from Daniel Boud.[/caption]

I was grateful to be at Conversations with Nick Cave the other week, not just to hear Cave’s voice and solo piano really rise to the occasion and fill a venue with their resonance, but to see the open Q&A format of the show return repeatedly to Cave’s creative process.

Fans who might’ve been clamouring for transcendent tales of sudden inspiration, or 19th Century Gothic influences (“I don’t have any”), were brought back to earth by the familiar refrain of the committed creative professional: Cave shows up to work, which requires lots of meticulous preparation and backbreaking iteration, and he makes it happen. “It’s a job,” he said, with finality. (I love the incongruity of this stuff coming from people like Nick Cave, or Bobbie Gillespie, who apparently keeps office hours for Primal Scream.) 

But I’ve become a little sceptical of the total demystification of creativity that’s now common in our algorithmically inclined age of, uh, content-marketing savvy. With our era’s overly instrumentalist promotion of a well-adjusted creative-entrepreneurial mindset, it might be all too easy these days to reduce everything to using elbow grease to, you know, hit targets. 

So I love that Cave is still in awe of sacred aesthetic magic when his rigour allows it to happen. He talked of putting in the work so that the divine can arrive. All his meticulous “going through the motions” (again, not a bad thing) produces something more than the sum of those motions. For him, it’s a way to experience God. And despite his Prince of Darkness reputation, Cave was at pains to describe how joyful that process can be. “There’s nothing dark about it.” 

🤖🙏 Oh yeah, the bit about robots

When I was listening to Radiolab the other day (despite my long-running ambivalence about the show), I found that this recent episode’s focus on robots of antiquity resonated unexpectedly with my reading of Nick Cave’s creative process.

Hear me out.

In 1562 the crown prince of Spain, Don Carlos, falls down a flight of stairs and sustains a head injury that is by all accounts going to be fatal. According to Radiolab, his father King Philip II “kneels at his son’s deathbed and makes a pact with God: ‘If you help me, if you heal my son — if you do this miracle for me — I'll do a miracle for you.’” 

Don Carlos miraculously survives, apparently thanks to the intervention of the spirit of Diego de Alcalá, a celebrated monk who died a century before. And so now Philip II needs to somehow perform his miracle:

[He] enlists a really renowned clockmaker named Juanelo Turriano — a huge ox of a man, described as always being filthy and blustery and not a lot of fun to be around — but a great, great clockmaker. So the king says, “Look, I want you to make a mechanical version of Diego de Alcalá, a mechanical version of this 100-year-dead holy priest. Yes, a mechanical monk — a robotic padre.” 

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The robotic padre[/caption]

Artist and historian Elizabeth King describes the result: 

Driven by a key-wound spring, the monk walks in a square, striking his chest with his right arm, raising and lowering a small wooden cross and rosary in his left hand, turning and nodding his head, rolling his eyes, and mouthing silent obsequies. From time to time, he brings the cross to his lips and kisses it. After over 400 years, he remains in good working order. 

A miracle of technology! (You can watch a very low quality video of the robot in action here.) “He walks a delicate line between church, theatre, magic, science,” King writes, pondering the significance of the mechanical monk. “Here is a machine that prays.” 

What does it mean? According to King and Radiolab, in the context of Counter-Reformation Spain, the robot monk strikes to the heart of debates about how one gets close to God:

You have the Protestants, with Luther, who are saying, “it’s not about works … it's about whether you feel it.” And then you have the Catholic argument which is to say you do these rituals because these are the rituals, and this is the way you get close to God.

The robot monk teaches us how to do ritual. Controversial! Given the ridiculous degree of crufty observance and corruption in the Church at the time of the Reformation (and, um, other times), I obviously understand why the Protestant appeal to pure feels was compelling. But my own ingrained Catholic social justice calculus of “good works” aside (“don’t fucking tell me your account with God hinges on how you feel inside instead of your concrete actions in the world, you schismatic apostates!”), I can’t help but think that this debate, and the robot monk himself, is a metaphor for the observance of creative process. 

As stated above, I’m suspicious of the reduction of creativity to a bunch of instrumental observances in the mechanised pursuit of… metrics. Hack-work content marketing success, paid in SEO indulgences to the Church of Google. But to respond to this by abandoning the rigours of creative process for the inspiration of pure feeling would be a mistake. Unless you're a tidal wave like my friend Janelle, feelings are fickle. Protestant churches tend to trade the horrific institutionalised power of the Catholic Church (about which we need no reminders) for another kind of tyranny: exploitative emotional economies in which the faithful tend to be at the mercy of charisma. And to trade in pure charisma is to produce strongmen. As our current times remind us, charismatic populism offers release for the anxious but also destroys the processes that ultimately help us flourish as communities. Creative populism that relies on emotional catharsis tends to destroy the basis for a consistent creative practice. Just as the Reformation ended up eliding the point of what “good works” might potentially be about (i.e. acting rigorously to enable the arrival of goodness), we also need to remember what creative rituals are for (i.e. exactly the same thing as good works).

Thus it is with Nick Cave, who for me is the amazing robot monk. He mightn’t be your cup of tea, or you might even find his work occasionally objectionable, but I think most of us can agree that his creative practice really hums. (Don’t let his obsession with Southern Baptists or his own Anglican heritage distract. In terms of process, he is an exemplary Catholic robot.) He prepares, meticulously. He shows up to work. He performs the motions regularly, not worrying about inspiration, and through these observances somehow accesses what he feels to be a divine and joyous experience of creativity. 

I’m convinced that if Nick Cave relied on pure feeling, or murderous inspiration, or spontaneous gothic possession, or any of the other assumptions people make about his artistic persona, so many great moments of his oeuvre wouldn’t exist. Nick Cave walks the square and kisses the cross and talks to God. For he is a joyous robot monk.

🎼 Coda

For those of you who remain unconvinced by my yoking together of monks and murder ballads: the final line of Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose, an historical murder mystery set in a monastery, is “Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus”, or “The rose of old remains only in its name; we have only naked names”. 

Meanwhile, I was never really a fan of the chorus of “Where the Wild Roses Grow,” Cave’s duet with Kylie Minogue:

They call me The Wild Rose 

But my name was Elisa Day 

Why they call me it, I do not know 

For my name was Elisa Day 

Oooh. The name of the rose. Anyway, to me, Minogue’s delivery always reeked of passive fatalism. But the other day, I realised that it wasn’t fatalistic all — it was full of spooky reproach. Elisa Day remains known to us by her Wild Rose name of legend, but her ghost insists on remembering her own name. She’s crossing t’s and dotting i’s from beyond the grave. 

Following Kylie, we would do well to pay proper respect to the names of those who are in the beyond. The way we relate to them constitutes its own assemblage, its own machine of observances. In this I’m reminded of Arthur C. Clarke’s 1953 short story, “The Nine Billion Names of God”, in which Tibetan monks manage to automate the process of transcribing all the permutations that God’s name can take, using a supercomputer (naturally). Observing the names is the universe’s purpose, you see. And when the final name is encoded… Whoa.

How's that for a crazy constellation? (I know I'm just reaching. But it's fun!)

A sustainable portion of all my love,

Ben