#forgot the other dye which i was supposed to return at home. the sun is setting and i just got on the train. i’m gonna be downtown past dark

[dreamertrilogys]

don’t you just love being halfway through committing TERRIBLE decisions before you realize that the whole thing is an absolutely awful fucking idea

[fluffi]

SARCOLINE SUNSET I: WELCOME HOME, OUTSIDER :: SOOBIN

pairing: soobin x gn!reader, platonic!ot5 x gn!reader genre: fluff, some subjective angst, bits of humor, enemies-to-lovers, childhood friends word count: 4002 event: #summerscape for @kpopscape credit: @enha-woodzies​ for making the gfx for this series! show her some love <3 author’s note: i accidentally deleted this post so here is a rushed reupload. it might not be as good as the original because it isnt proof read as well but i still hope the algorithm picks it up, maybe this’ll be good for the post. Also, the second part will be coming out in 15 days. warnings: people disappearing, mentions of burning and fire (further warnings will be released in the next parts as the story gets darker)

THIS STORY IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT DICTATE JAY OR NI-KI’S PERSONAL LIVES AND/OR FAMILY.

part two ->

The blonde stared up at an intricately designed structure in awe, walking forward to touch the sides of it and running his calloused hands up and down its rusted carved wedges. It seemed oddly cliche and unrealistic, but he could feel its story. Every touch of the ceramic pillar provided him with emotion that he couldn’t bring himself to explain.

The sun hadn’t set yet, but he could make out the faint reflection of it settling in the background. The huge pine trees around him were making conversation with each other; their faint whispers and rustles providing peace to his veins.

So entranced in the scenery of such a mystical place, he forgot to watch out for his younger peer. Kicking back into his senses, he nervously called out, “Riki! You there?” His voice, usually strong and boisterous, laced fear today.

“Don’t worry about me Jay, I’m right behind you. Just climbing this fence..and..there!” Riki let out a grunt as he jumped onto the soft grass, looking at his older friend with an innocent grin.

At the sight of his buddy, Jay visibly loosened. It was clear that he didn’t feel safe in this environment, yet felt entranced to it in some way. Riki caught up to him in a quick jog before standing next to Jay, in awe at the magnificent view that they were spectating for the first and possibly last time.

“Is this…the place you were talking about?” Riki was out of breath from running after his peer. He pats the grassy patch below him before slumping onto it, crossing his legs afterward.

Jay took a seat next to him, setting his canvas satchel and leather jacket next to him. “According to the maps and books, this is the right spot. I just want to see if the myth is true.”

Riki clapped his hands in excitement and turned to face Jay. “We’re staying till the sun sets right? I want to see what the carousel looks like at night! This structure is so fascinating. It must be beautiful out here at night.”

“No, we’re walking back as soon as the sun goes down. I do not want to risk being out here at night. People have disappeared from staying too long and I wouldn’t want to worry your mother.”

Riki visibly slumped and turned back in time to see the last drop of orange dip. It was quiet for a while. The singing birds stopped humming their soulful tunes, yet the whispering trees grew louder, their inaudible gossip echoing in the ears of the two boys.

At nine at night, Riki’s mother would call Jay, heeding no response. She would do the same for his parents and his friends. The only piece of information they could provide was that Jay had brought Riki, in his words, to “a magical place”. With no other vital details they could draw from their son’s peers, Jay and Riki’s family agree to call the local police, reporting two missing people: two minors, one last seen in a brown leather jacket, and a taller one tailing alongside him. Both their hairs were dyed in a striking shade of blonde.

Summer’s heat-blasted onto your skin as soon as you stepped out of your sleek white Toyota. It was good to be back, you supposed. Although it was something that not many people would fawn over, you were ecstatic to be home in town.

Leaving at the mere age of sixteen wasn’t easy. After your parents decided that you were too good for a mediocre high school where people cared more about their body count than grade count, they immediately sent you off to a prestigious boarding school in the big city. You were given three days to pack and say goodbye to your friends, the rest of your family, your world. As excited as you were to study in the evolutionary epicenter of technology, you didn’t like how you had almost no say in this decision.

You didn’t return home from high school even after four years of studying at that mentally draining institution. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to come back, you were just so accustomed to life in the big city that it seemed pointless to return to square one. With the rest of the world finally in your grip (or so you thought), you enrolled in a highly expensive university and received a full-ride scholarship.

Perhaps that was your breaking point. Piles of work that could never be cleared must’ve got to your head. No one out there seemed to care about your mental health and well-being. The only reason you were allowed to take a break from the university and return was because of your constant breakdowns that your lecturers called “distracting” and “unethical”. You were hoping that this drop-by in town would give you a physical and mental cleanse.

There was no place as hot as home, from where you had been. The blazing sun scorched onto the road. Carrying baggage by itself was already hard enough, but this heat was immensely torturing. You struggled to carry your belongings while trying to close the car boot at the same time. Oh, a pity. You had just returned home and you were slowly turning into a bundle of disorganization, unlike your previous methodical attitude.

“Need a hand?” A familiar suede voice behind your shoulder sounded like music to your ears as you dropped all of your luggage and turned back to see…

“Taehyun!” Child best friend number one. You were looking at a once-innocent boy with doe eyes who had matured into a fine young man. His hair was dyed platinum blonde and, although younger than you, possessed a flair that was completely unlike his past self. His facial features were more prominent than ever and you wondered if all of your friends had developed as well as he had.

You locked your arms around his neck and embraced him as he took your baggage from you.

“You’re so tall now!” You gasped in awe and looked him up and down.

“Of course I am! A boy has to grow, doesn’t he?”

Speak of the devil(s), four people tagged behind Taehyun, waiting for you to notice their presence. All of them were just as tall (if not taller) than your blonde friend and stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t just the height, their hair was also in very...exciting colors.

“Can’t believe you forgot about us just for Taehyun.” Ah, that nasal voice was so recognizable. Choi Yeonjun, second-best friend. You cherished him like he was your secret weapon, a power waiting to be unleashed into your industrial world. Although older than Taehyun, they seemed to be the same height now. You couldn’t tell because his new neon pink hair was waxed slick and puffy which made him look a teensy bit taller than his younger friend. You had seen him around on social media and he was a hair-changing chameleon.

Alongside Yeonjun was Hueningkai, better known as Kai in the friend group. He was the youngest one, constantly babied and spoiled, you could say. He was probably influenced by the rest of his friends too, his hair now in a mossy shade of blonde. 

Poor Yeonjun, you completely disregarded his existence and dashed over to Kai instead, eagerly standing next to him to compare heights. The kid had grown so much, you couldn’t tell if you were contented that he was now taller than you or dejected that you had missed so much when you weren’t around.

“Hey, wait up!” Someone from behind called. With Hueningkai and Yeonjun blocking your view you couldn’t see who that one person walking next to Choi Beomgyu was.

Beomgyu, the last friend who joined the friend group. He was always a comedian and never failed to make your day. Although, he didn’t seem so smiley anymore. You figured that it was school stress and adulting getting the best of him. We all had those days; you regrettably knew them like you knew the back of your hand . Unlike the rest of his friends, Beomgyu’s hair was kept in a natural shade of ivory brown. He had never been swayed by the rest of the crowd.

There were so many things to do, so many people to see. You had missed out on most of your growing: having fun with friends, staying up late at night just to watch the stars, dancing on your balcony. You had missed the people too. The town felt different from when you had left it.

“Soobin! Don’t just stand behind, meet our friend! They just returned from the city, right?” Beomgyu ran over to you before giving you a little squeeze.

Who’s Soobin?

“Hey, I’m Choi Soobin. Twenty-one this year. I moved here a few years ago. You must have left before I showed up.” A simple and concise introduction from the blue-haired man. Maybe he was the root of this hair-dyeing trend in town (pun very much intended), as well as the height trend since he was just as tall, if not taller than the rest of the boys.

You briefly introduced yourself but that was about it. You didn’t know how to create small talk, nonetheless with someone completely unfamiliar to you.

Later that day, you wondered if he had replaced you, become another guardian in the friend group. As one of the oldest, you and Yeonjun were always known as the parents of your three “kids”, but Soobin seemed to take care of them equally well. Throughout the day, you watched his every action, how he helped Beomgyu with homework, how he styled Kai’s hair, how he treated Taehyun to his favorite meal, exactly like what you did when you were still around. For once, you felt like the outsider.

Marshmallow Night had always been a tradition here. It was a five-of-you kind of thing, well, the six-of-you now. It had always been the go-to celebration whenever one of you hit a milestone, or was just held for fun. The days of joy where the only thing you had to worry about was whether your smores were burnt.

It had changed a lot over the years, you guys would add some new events to it and remove the ones you guys outgrew, like hopscotch.

You had missed most of its evolution.

Instead of being the main catalyst for today’s event, you resorted to sitting at the side as Soobin took the lead, carrying tables back and forth as well as setting up the fire in a method that the five of you had never used.

Oh, how much you loathed him. You hated his innocent-looking face that spurred out words of authority and boastfulness. You couldn’t stand how he looked so obnoxious with his bright blue hair, his dark brown eyes that held an impeccable gleam. He looked so cheeky, so mean, and worst of all, he had made all of your friends convert to mini spawns of him. Even Yeonjun, the oldest member, no longer felt like the Choi Yeonjun you once knew.

If you could, you would throw him out of your hometown, except that you seemed to be the outsider here. Anyone who walked past would see five people sitting on a huge log, helping each other light marshmallows and biscuits. They would barely notice the one person hunched over on the other side, sitting on the ground, eyes dazed and uninterested.

Occasionally one of the boys would call out to you, either hand you a s’more or ask if you were alright, to which you responded, “I’m alright! Don’t worry about me, I’m having fun.”

Anyone could also see that you weren’t in the zone, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment and be a party pooper. You ended up spending most of the time scrolling on your phone, checking school emails, and such. It didn’t feel like you were back home, it felt like you were on a vacation, on your own.

The commotion had died down, for the most part. Everyone else was either discussing school gossip in hushed voices or making the most of use of their electronic device. You were tempted to join the little heated conversation that Soobin and Beomgyu were having, but you didn’t know who this ‘Chaeyeon’ girl was and either way, you wouldn’t want to voluntarily speak to Choi Soobin.

It wasn’t long before both of them went to do something else, the only sound prevalent being the wood crackling from the bonfire and the occasional chirp of evening birds.

It was a loud, sucked-in breath that drew the attention of everyone, eyes pinned onto the instigator.

Choi Soobin, once again disrupting the peace of this curated environment. He ducked his head in apology and you were about to return to your world when Kai’s curiosity got the best of him.

“Why did you just do that?” His booming voice resounded over everyone else.

You weren’t going to lie, you were curious too. It wasn’t every day you heard a gasp like that.

Soobin looked back up, eyes wide and awake. He was excited about something but seemed to be masking it for the sake of..suspense?

“Okay. You guys know Yongsam Park right?” He put his phone down and tapped his hands on his thighs in a state of urgency.

Now that statement got everyone’s attention. “It’s the flower place outside our town, everyone passes it when they enter. Of course we would know where the place is. Why are you so adamant about it?” Taehyun inquired.

“Well, have any of you gone inside the park? Or near the landmark in general?”

“No. Why would we? There’s nothing to do there than to take pictures of boring flower statues.” You stated.

“See. You guys don’t know anything about the place.” He smirked tilting his head upwards and proudly crossing his arms.

“Could you cut to the chase and tell us what it is already?” Thank Yeonjun for his smart, impatient mouth.

Soobin didn’t answer and merely flipped his phone so you could see whatever was on it. The only words you could make out were “Yongsam...missing...carnival” and something related to the park before he turned it back, away from your view.

“You can’t just say that we don’t know anything about this place then proceed to give us nothing about it.” You rolled your eyes, disinterested in the conversation once again.

“Fine. I’ll send it to you.” Soobin rolled his eyes back as four of the other boys snickered. They loved seeing the two of you bicker.

In courtesy of Beomgyu who gave Soobin your number (without your consent), you received a news article and skimmed through it with eager eyes:

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

YONGSAM PARK CURRENTLY UNDER INVESTIGATION, AUTHORITIES SAY 3 days ago

What’s the deal with Yongsam Park? Insiders say that, although bland and boring, Yongsam Park is currently under high-level investigation for the disappearance of a few citizens. The flower-decorated park is the perfect place to take Instagram-worthy pictures and is quite harmless in itself, so visitors were shocked to arrive at the park only to find it surrounded by heaps of yellow tape.

Yongsam Park was developed by Kim Yongsam, director of My Flowers, a multi-million florist franchise that has now spread to Japan and Taiwan. In a 2015 Interview with the millionaire, he mentioned that he had created the park in the inspiration of the rising ootd picture trend, also known as the outfit-of-the-day trend, which he had initially discovered from his teen daughter. 

“I wanted to create a welcoming park for people of all ages, but I couldn’t find a suitable place to do it without the budget being drastically high. In the end, my team and I found an abandoned site and decided to build a simple structure with lower costs up there. Props to my team for the discovery of this landmark. The scenery there, especially in the evening, is stunning .” He stated in the 2015 interview with Soup Magazine.

What’s the abandoned site? With the evidence that is still standing, Yongsam Park is rumored to have previously been a carnival. Said evidence is a worn-down carousel in the back of the park, along with piles of other burnt carnival decoration and equipment. With research, Yongsam Park’s site may have once been an abandoned carnival that perished from an unknown wildfire. This may have been the primary cause of the drought that ensued in the 80s, leaving only a carousel and ashes behind. When questioned, Mr. Kim said that he had decided to leave the carousel standing behind the park due because he felt ‘drawn by its alluring glow’, as quoted.

Investigators and the local police have only enclosed the flower section of Yongsam Park because that was where the victims were spotted. They believe that disappearances took place there and are currently trying to find evidence to back up their stance. Most of this new information is not known to the public, however, Kim and his team are trying to keep it that way. The current disappearance count is seven people, the most recent case being two high-schoolers.

The carousel is still open and does not require a visitor ticket, but visitors are advised to take precautions and leave before the sun sets.

RELATED

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

FAMILY OF TOURISTS DISAPPEAR AT YONGSAM PARK, INSIDERS SAY THIS IS THE SECOND CASE OF DISAPPEARANCE HERE 2 weeks ago

JAPANESE COUPLE DISAPPEAR AT FLOWER PARK, NETIZENS CALL THE NEWS A POLITICAL DISTRACTION 3 weeks ago

“Are you seriously...telling us...that we should visit a place where people have been kidnapped?” Yeonjun gawked. “Dude, that’s so stupid. What if we die or something?”

“Don’t say that! I was just curious if you guys wanted to go since it’s so near and since your old friend is back home.”

“It’s a dumb move. I’m not risking my life just so I can celebrate the return of my friend. Not worth it.” Beomgyu huffed.

“Hey! You’re worth it, right?” Soobin glanced at you, waiting for a response.

He was...defending you? His ulterior motives were questionable and you weren’t sure if he was protecting you because he cared about you (cue the puking) or solely because he wanted to go to Yongsam Park that bad.

You didn’t reply and chose to drown out the wailing and chaos that ensued with your friends. You clicked on a related article below, curious to learn more about this lesser-known part of the park.

[WHAT’S THE HYBE?]

TWO MORE BOYS HAVE DISAPPEARED AT THE NOW INFAMOUS YONGSAM PARK 5 days ago

Park Jongseong (20) and Nishimura Riki (15) mentioned to their friends that they would be heading to ‘a magical place’, before disappearing for around a week. They were last spotted walking through Yongsam Park, according to anonymous witnesses. This is the third case of disappearances at the park and both teens are the sixth and seventh people to go missing.

Both families reported their children missing just two days after their disappearance. With this case being the last straw, local authorities forcibly shut down Yongsam Park despite protests from staff and management.

Parents of the two minors refused to respond when called for an interview and HYBE reporters resorted to interviewing the victims’ friends instead.

“Jay’s never been a bad kid. Yeah, he might be late here and there, but he wouldn’t skip class or fly across the country for vacation during school. I just don’t understand why he’s not here with us. He wouldn’t voluntarily disappear.” Park Sunghoon (19), a friend and classmate of Jongseong (who is better known as Jay among his friends) said.

“Although I’m not close with Jay, I know Riki personally and I know for a fact that both of them wouldn’t run away like that. Why, Riki was gearing up for a dance competition that he’s been excited about all year, and now he’s just gone? Like that? Riki has always been like my little brother, and he’ll always be. I just want him back at my side.” A teary-eyed Lee Heeseung (20) says.

Netizens have been complaining about the lack of coverage on this issue.

“Maybe Mr. Kim spent all his money on covering this story up from the mainstream public. That’s why he had to build the stupid park on an abandoned sketchy site.” An anonymous netizen commented.

Regardless, we’ll be keeping our prayers for Jongseong and Riki, as well as the five other victims, to return home soon.

“...you guys are such wimps.” That was the first thing you heard Soobin say when you tuned in to the conversation again.

How dare he say that? How dare he have the courage to call you, someone who moved out on your own at 16 to live in the big, scary world, a..wimp?

“Look, Choi Soobin. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a wimp. I didn’t say that I wasn’t interested on this trip.” You stand up and blurt out without thinking twice.

The rest of the boys are gawking at you, their mouths open wide in awe and shock. Yes, you weren’t a wimp, that was for sure, but they had known you all their life as someone who could not stand going out into the wilderness. Maybe the big city had really changed you.

“At least someone wants to go! Perfect. We can leave tomorrow at noon, bring your camping stuff!” Soobin grabbed his things and began walking away.

“Camping?” The five of you exclaimed in unison.

Taehyun, the rational member, gasped. “I, personally, wouldn’t mind going to the carousel thing..or whatever it is, but I am not staying the night. Dude, are you nuts?” The rest of you nodded your heads in agreement.

“It says in the article that we are advised to leave before the sun sets.” You point out, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible in fear of breaking this mask of false confidence, when in reality, you were terrified of this place.

Soobin turned back and eyed you down disinterestedly. “Conclusion is that we’ll bring a small backpack, or whatever you guys want to pack, and we’ll stay there until eight. Deal?”

“Seven.” Hueningkai timidly said.

“Whatever you guys want.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It wasn’t due to fear of the place you were going, rather, you weren’t too excited about having to spend half of your day around Soobin.

What were you going to say to him? You were definitely overthinking at this point.

You know, they always say that the person one hates the most is the one that they also love most. And when Soobin flipped his blue hair back or cheekily smiled, showing his endearing dimples, you couldn’t help but…

No! You loathe Choi Soobin. You couldn’t stand his smile, or his hair, or his height. That evil moonwitch.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Speak of the devil (or moonwitch), you spotted a fluff of blue hair in your peripheral vision.

You couldn’t even muster up the courage to look back at him, merely nodding your head while staring at the white wall.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Are you...scared?” You could see him wiggle his eyebrows as he made that statement.

That was it. You turned back at him. “Yes I am. I’m absolute terrified. I can’t stand the fact that I have to forcibly spend my precious time around you. It’s like I’m about to voluntarily live a nightmare.”

Woah there, calm down. You had smoke spurting out of your ears at this point.

Soobin’s once excited face fell into one of disappointment. “Yeah, it’s a nightmare having to be around you too. Gosh, the immaturity.” He left the room in haste as your eyes shot lasers through his well-toned back.

Maybe you had gone too far with the insult. He hadn’t been mean to you at all, really.

Then again, he had been mean. He took your place when you weren’t around. Suddenly, you were determined to get it back.

“Hop on the magic school bus!”

“Shut up, Yeonjun.” You deadpanned before leaning your head on his shoulder. The two of you were finally falling back into routine and you couldn’t help but bask in this nostalgia.

You also couldn’t help but notice how Soobin kept on looking through the rearview mirror at the both of you, pupils darting away once you locked eyes with him.

Man, this was going to be a long ride.

2021 © fluffi

[jungcity]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥. | iii

word count: 7k

“my soul 

chose yours 

and a soul 

doesn't just 

forget that”

— b.m.

“This is absurd!”

There was only one thing you wanted to do tonight; curl in your bed and watch korea dramas until your eyes sore from the radiation. But as you roll the wires of the hair-straightener free, all you could do was sniff the tears that was threatening to spill from your eyes.

Yuqi laughed loudly behind you, helping you unroll the knotted wires of the straightener. “Are you seriously gonna cry right now?” She cackled from seeing your frown that could almost reach your chin.

“I don’t know what’s got to my mind. I am seriously the stupidest person to ever exist in the world!” You screamed.

Yuqi’s laughed went louder while patting your back. “No one told you to grab your boss and introduced him as your boyfriend in front of your ex-boyfriend, sis,” Yuqi said, giving emphasis to the word ‘boyfriend’ before continuing, “… so yes, deal with the consequences.”

While praying for the ground to swallow you whole before you hear the honk of Jaehyun’s car in front of your house, you reminisced the insanity of yesterday.

It was a great sunny day. The weather wasn’t too hot, nor it was too cold. Wildflowers are blooming in the grass, with the wind carrying their petals into the air. You smiled, picking one and continuing your walk towards the bus stop with a flower in your hand.

It had been a month since Yuqi was discharged from the hospital. Her recovery had been incredibly fast. Unfortunately, she needed to drop her entry to the archery team— but the coach told her she could always try-out whenever she regained her full-strength. However, the topic is still on debate inside your home, since you didn’t want to see your sister looking as pale as a ghost on a hospital bed again.

Of course, you did not have any choice— again— but to stay in Jung’s Fiscals. Out of compassion or you-don’t-know-what, Jaehyun did not give you too much headache when it came to filing a loan. You were able to pay for all the hospital bills and other expenses such as medicines because of that.

You realized that this life won’t give you any chances to choose the way you wanted to live it. It had felt as if life itself decides for what was going to happen to you. You shook your head and ran from the negative thoughts. The day is bright and the sun is smiling softly at you, you have no reason to be pessimistic. Especially now that Yuqi is all well and far from danger.

There was only one thing that was persistently nagging on your system. Looking at the view outside while the wheels of the bus rolls down the highway, you think about your dreams. Nothing mysterious has happened after you dreamt about the lake— where you heard Jaehyun’s voice calling for someone named Aurora. You have no inkling about who she might be, or what she is to Jaehyun’s life. But there is a high chance that she is nothing but a part of your imagination. At first, you wanted to ask Jaehyun about the name, but his face welcomed no conversations for things other than business. And it felt absurd to ask him about your dream. He obviously has no responsibility to indulge himself to the visions that you see every time you drift asleep. Besides, you couldn’t risk him calling you delusional nor weird.

However, it’s been a month since you last had a peculiar dream. After the lake, all you dreamt about were shallow visions which you easily forgot the next day. It made everything more sinister, for you still remember every detail of the dream you had about Jaehyun. Before you lose your mind from too much thinking, the bus halted in front of Jung’s Fiscals. You gathered your things and departed the vehicle.

Surprisingly, the inside of the lounge gave off a warm atmosphere, so unusual from its grim and quiet surroundings the whole two months you have been working there. You supposed it was your mood that was taking in the bright sides; of the smiles and greetings you were too occupied to notice because you have always struggled every day to please your boss.

Soojin was on her usual place in the front desk, giving you a wave before continuing on her work.

Jung Jaehyun arrived thirty-minutes after you. As usual, he didn’t spare you a glance when you greeted him. It was not like you were expecting him to. Slowly, in the past eight weeks of working for him, you have already got a hold of his frowning, shouting, and disappointed looks. It almost felt like he doesn’t get into your nerves anymore. But sometimes, he still does. Especially right now.

“Where the fuck did you get this coffee?” He scanned the mug in his hand. You narrowed your brows at him. Surely, there wasn’t anything wrong about its taste. You have tasted the coffee for five times, resulting to five spoons waiting for you in the sink. The same taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Sir?”

“Nevermind. Book me a flight to London, send flowers to Johnny Seo— the dick’s giving me too much shit for not going to his gallery’s opening yesterday,” he said the last sentence to himself, clearly frustrated of his friend bumming him out. You quickly typed the important words into your mobile phone, careful not to misspell nor mistyped anything.

Johnny Seo owned a gallery fifteen-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals. You knew about it when Mr. Seo visited Jaehyun to force him to go. He is a man of a great posture; tall height with lean muscles. Based from your first impression, he is the friendly-type of guy. He even invited you himself when you brought them drinks.

“And—” he paused. You looked at him, anticipating for his next command. Two minutes, of him looking at nowhere and two minutes of you waiting for his mouth to say something. He was completely speechless in his seat, his mouth a thin line and his eyes emotionless.

“Sir?” You decided to break the silence. Albeit not looking at you, his mouth said the order.

“And… make sure the painting from France will be delivered straight in my house tomorrow.”

You jotted the details of the parcel, and mentally reminded yourself to contact the delivery company for Jaehyun’s orders. When you returned to your table, you transferred the notes into the tab that was provided for you. You were halfway into the notes when you received a text from Soojin.

Yuta’s visiting TODAY! Make sure to look your best, bih! 😉

You emitted a silent gasp. Yuta’s arrival wasn’t on your to-do-list for today, and you have no plans to meet him. Soojin hadn’t given you any hint about his arrival, obviously planning to surprise you with the presence of your ex-boyfriend. And she succeeded. Darn it.

You frustratedly typed in the address of Jaehyun’s house into the mail that you created. Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you think about all the possibilities of what could happen later. Soojin’s surely going to give you hell if you stand her up. And you won’t give Yuta the satisfaction of thinking that you still haven’t moved on from your feelings for him. You weren’t trying to be ‘bitter’, you just have no tolerance for cheaters. But for the sake of the friendship that is entwining the three of you, you will go.

Lunch time approached in a dashing speed. For the first time in your whole life, you dreaded the time of eating. There was a pit resting in your stomach by thinking about Yuta. Sure, there is a small part of you that wonders about his whereabouts now, but that curiosity isn’t enough to relive the friendship you once had.

The elevator door tinged, and a smiling Soojin came out. You grunted— there was no running from it now.

“What’s that face, Y/N?” she cooed before sitting on the chair in front of your table. You rolled your eyes at her, showing that you have no time for her teasing.

“C’mon! It’s been years, babe. Don’t tell me you still haven’t moved on?” Soojin raised her perfect brows at you. You threw a crumpled paper her way, earning a loud laugh from her. But it quickly receded as she realized that she was in the same floor as Jung Jaehyun.

“Of course I have moved on! But this meet up, it doesn’t sit well with me. And I don’t understand why are you so eager to see him, not like you didn’t slap him across the cheek when I told you he’s cheating on me,” you reminded her. She, indeed, slapped Yuta before that you feared his teeth would fall off from his gums.

“Like I said, it’s been years. Aren’t you excited to see our old friend?”

No. Yes. Maybe.

“Whatever, Soo. Where is he now?”

At your question, Soojin’s phone buzzed on the table. She mouthed ‘Yuta’ before sliding the green button. “Oh! Nakamoto! Yes, yes. Oooooh! I see that you’re a rich man now! Okay, I’m with Y/N now.” You winced at your name being said to Yuta. “Yes! Okay, okay. Got it!” Then she finished the call with a playful grin plastered on her face.

“He’s already here. And he’s gonna treat us to the nearest restaurant, c’mon!” Soojin dragged you to the elevator, chanting stories after stories as you both walked into the lounge and into the restaurant five-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals.

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Soojin led you inside. As you passed the door, Soojin sharply turned on you— suddenly fixing your hair like you’re her doll.

“Alright! Let him regret letting you go.” She grinned. You were about to tell her that it’s you who practically let go of Yuta because of his cheating ass when a tall man stood in front of you.

“Yuta Nakamoto!” Soojin squealed, boxing him into a tight hug.

Yuta laughed in her shoulders but his eyes were directly looking at you. You tried to be polite and stretched your lips into a thin smile.

He looks more matured now. He does not look like the playful Yuta with studs almost covering the skin of his ear anymore, but a man who knows what he wants in life. His hair— tied in a neat man bun— is still the white that you remember. Maybe he continued to dye it that way, you will never know. When they pulled away from each other, Yuta spread his arms at you. You reluctantly spread yours and gave him a hug too.

The three of you settled in a four-seater table in the corner of the restaurant near the entrance. Yuta tried to sit beside you but Soojin pulled him beside her and into the seats in front, leaving you sitting alone opposite from them.

“Oh, I need to go to the bathroom,” Soojin said. You widened your eyes at her and she repeated the same expression while gathering her purse. You mouthed the words I’ll kill you before she disappeared from your sight.

You tried your best to ignore Yuta’s furtive glances by skimming the menu. But it was clear by the atmosphere that his tongue was going to say something soon. And he did.

“You looked good, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You chuckled at him, trying your best to sound natural. Once, those smiles were enough to let the butterflies in your stomach stir.

“Yeah, you too.”

He licked his lips, placing the menu on the table and suddenly grabbing your hands. You were too shocked to withdraw, so you let him hold it while looking straight at your eyes.

“Y/N, I know… I know I fucked up. I’m not gonna deny that. But I just wanna say sorry, for the pain that I’d caused you. And I…” He breathed before continuing, “… I came back for you. I… fuck— I still love you.”

You blinked at him, mouth going dry because of his apologies and revelations. Yuta’s eyes were glimmering with something that you could only identify as hope. But his statement didn’t even reach your heart.

It’s not even ten-minutes of you reuniting together. Heck, your butt doesn’t even feel warm in your seat yet. But here he was, ruining everything. However, even after his fucked up declaration, you still tried to gather yourself and remain composed in front of him.

“Don’t fool around Yu—”

He interrupted you by tightening his hold of your hand. “Just give me a chance. I’m a change man now, Y/N.”

Where on earth is Soojin?

“Yuta that is not the problem—”

“Please, Y/N?”

You sighed. This is what you have been telling Soojin all along the way, but she didn’t listen.

“Yuta, I don’t know about that.” You tried to meet his gaze, just so he could see that you were on your edge.

“Why? Soojin told me you’re single. Do you have anyone in your life right now?” He pleaded. You are so going to kill Soojin. You inhaled deep breaths, shutting your eyes. When you opened them, someone caught your attention.

He entered the restaurant like it was his own; with his expensive suit shouting the authority in his every step. His hands on both of his pockets— his eyes coldly scanning the crowd. A faint scowl deepened on his lips as his line of sight slid on to you, sitting and staring at him.

I’m not doing it. You told your brain, but your body seemed to disagree. For you sauntered up to Jung Jaehyun and linked your arms with his. His eyebrows creased, but you smiled widely at him, forcing him to walk to your table.

Stop, Y/N. You still have the chance to save your job and put an end to this nonsense. If your brain could scream, it probably would. But your lips seemed to have a life on its own when it said, “Yuta, this is my boyfriend Jung Jaehyun.” You turned your head from Yuta to your boss. “This is Yuta, my old friend.”

Your smile could reach your ears now, silently praying that your boss would go along this madness. Jaehyun smiled back at you— but you were sane enough to sense the danger between those pearlescent white teeth.

“Let’s sit.” You offered. He was now sitting face to face with Yuta. If your ex-boyfriend was devastated by your announcement, he showed no sign of it for he stretched his arms towards Jaehyun.

“Yuta Nakamoto,” he introduced himself, smiling. Jaehyun stared at his hand for almost a minute. Sweats started to form in your forehead but you let out a sigh when he finally took Yuta’s hand and shook it lightly.

“Jung Jaehyun,” he said. His face had an amused expression as he stared at Yuta, who is now scanning the menu.

“Damn it! I think my stomach’s—” Soojin stopped dead on her tracks, her eyes widening at the sight of her boss sitting beside you. You smiled at her, far too wide to be called natural. But she only widened her eyes.

“Oh, you’re back,” Yuta chimed. He stood up to let Soojin sit on her chair.

“We have Y/N’s boyfriend joining us,” Yuta declared. Soojin almost lost her balance.

“B-boyfriend?” She frantically exchange glances between you and Jaehyun. You swear you were going to collapse soon. But Soojin’s surprised reaction slowly receded to that of an understanding one.

“Oh yes! Ha-ha! Jung Jaehyun, right?! Long time no see!” Soojin even reached for Jaehyun’s shoulder and tapped it lightly. What the fuck? You almost wanted to scream at her, grabbing her hands away from Jaehyun. He looked at his shoulder, to the spot where Soojin touched him and you swear both of you would be dead meat later.

Your orders came— stopping Jaehyun from his quest to burn Soojin with his eyes— and the four of you shared a deafening silence with only the clanking utensils providing the sound.

“So, what do you do these days Jung Jaehyun?” Yuta decided to ask.

You glanced at Soojin, who choke on her food. She looked at you with after-this-we-are-fucking-dead eyes.

Jaehyun was silent for a moment, and you thought he was never going to answer when he wiped his mouth with a dabbing manner and said, “CEO of the building five-minutes away from here.” Then he added, “You?”

Well, that was unexpected.

“That’s cool. I am an actor and a musician in Japan,” Yuta said before biting his food.

You swear you almost heard Jaehyun scoffed, which made your head turn to him so sudden you thought your neck would snap.

“Actor, huh? Suits you.”

They refused to look at each other as they talk. You felt the tension rising up by Jaehyun’s last statement, for Yuta stopped on his chewing. Soojin kicked your shin below the table. She, too, felt the atmosphere as it thickens.

You cleared your throat before Yuta could retaliate. “The salad is good! Try it guys!”

Soojin seconded your motion. The two men snapped their heads to each of your direction.

“Try it, Jae.” The nickname tasted bitter in your mouth. You have witnessed as the same bitterness transferred to your boss’ expression.

“Thanks, chérie.”

There. That pet name again. You tried so hard not to let them notice the tremble of your hand as you leaned a little closer to Jaehyun to put salad on his own plate.

“Are you free this night?” Yuta suddenly voiced, glancing in each of you surrounding him. “Let’s go clubbing tonight. The drink’s on me.” He winked at Soojin, who excitedly shifted on her seat.

You gave Jaehyun a sideway glance, but you couldn’t make up his expression for he was drinking a glass of water. You nudged Soojin below the table. She only widened her eyes at you.

If there was one thing the both of you haven’t done together in a while, it is clubbing. You were absolutely sure that she was not going to bail on Yuta in this adventure.

“That sounds exciting!” Soojin cheered, clapping her hands together.

Yuta looked at you. “How about you, Y/N?”

“I don’t think—”

“We’re going,” Jaehyun declared.

And that is why you are wearing something out of your comfort zone tonight, with your sister straightening your hair.

“Tell me what happened after lunch,” Yuqi teased. You rolled your eyes but told her the story nevertheless.

Soojin couldn’t stop bowing in front of Jaehyun when the three of you returned to the building you thought she was going to cry. Jaehyun only waved her off without saying anything. Then she dashed to the front desk, throwing an apologetic look your way.

The ride inside the elevator was harrowing. Jaehyun’s arms were crossed against his chest, with you fidgeting beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly voiced.

Avoiding both your reflections on the silvery façade of the elevator, you decided to look down at your shoes instead. He didn’t say anything, but you seriously need to make sure that he was not going to fire you.

“You don’t need to go tonight. I know you’re a busy person. And I’m really, really sorry for dragging you into this—”

“You talk too much.” He shifted to face you. Suddenly, you felt the atmosphere warming up inside the elevator.

A finger touched your chin. Then you felt your face as it slowly lifted to meet Jaehyun. You could swim into the depths of his eyes but you were afraid to drown. How could someone be as beautiful as him? You couldn’t believe someone’s face could be as flawless as his; with his perfect brows, to his nose, and to his lips. His skin bore no scar— only perfection.

“See you later,” he breathed. Only then you realized that your faces were utterly so close your lips could almost touch.

“You can stop drooling now,” he said, walking away from you. Your hand flew in your mouth, checking if you were indeed drooling. Shutting your eyes of frustration as you didn’t feel any liquid beside your lips.

But of course, you hide that information from Yuqi.

“Wow! You looked pretty!” She cheered while looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your frown never ceased. It only deepened when you heard the loud honk of a car outside.

“Oh! The CEO is here!” Yuqi singsonged, tickling your sides. You slapped her hands away before walking outside to meet Jaehyun.

Your breath caught in your throat as you see him leaning on his car wearing a casual outfit; white shirt paired with black pants. To be honest, you’d thought he was going to the club with his usual suit and black shoes. He looked much younger in his clothes now, fresher even. The tight atmosphere surrounding him seems to vanish.

You pinched your skin, diving back into reality.

“Yuqi, please take care. Call me if you need anything!” you told your sister, a silent warning exuding from your mouth. She nodded like a puppy while hugging the door frame, trying to get a glimpse of Jaehyun amidst the thick bushes of plants covering the gates.

“I’ll go now.” You shook your head. Yuqi waved you off with a flying kiss.

Jaehyun took a last sip of his blunt before tossing it into the nearest trashcan and walking around his car, not even bothering to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes and pulled the car door open for yourself.

Cigarettes After Sex is blasting through the speakers as you slump into the bullet seat. You have never imagined Jaehyun listening to music, but you guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. And you enjoy a good music once you heard one, so the ride to the bar weren’t as horrible as you’d expected it would be.

No words were spoken the whole ride, not even when you entered the establishment. Booming electro-pop sounds filled the whole place, making your heart jump together with the speakers. You adjusted your eyes against the LED lights, trying to search the crowd for Soojin and Yuta. Jaehyun is on his way to the counter, leaving you to search alone.

A girl waved at you from the mezzanine floor of the bar. You squinted your eyes to see her face. It was Soojin. You waved back and motioned your hands to where Jaehyun was sitting, taking a shot of tequila.

“Sir—uhm— Jae, found them.”

You bit your tongue of the informality that rolled from it. That is one of the things you were not sure of tonight— formalities. And you have no idea how Jaehyun would have reacted to you calling him by his name, maybe he would really terminate you after this night. He threw you a sideway glance, one brow rising with a shot glass kissing his mouth. You quickly turned your back on him and started walking to where Soojin was.

Oh, what dread greeted you once you have reached their location. Both Yuta and Soojin were sitting on the red sofa— and because they preferred the furthermost seats, all that was left was a one-seater plush sofa. You felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you. He, himself, halted on his tracks as he noticed the only remaining seat. Both of your friends scanned the surroundings, with Soojin ploddingly covering her mouth— slowly realizing the predicament you were into.

Despite the nervousness already coating your body, you tried your best to stay calm. But Jaehyun doesn’t seem to share the same calming technique as you, for he walked to the one-seater, sat on it, looked at you, then tapped his lap.

“Here, babe.”

Babe? What on earth? You widened your eyes at him, hoping that he could see the warning against the pulsing lights around you. His lips turned into a coy smile, showing you that he was enjoying himself right now. Of course, Jaehyun would take every chance to settle your hash. You should have known better.

“There’s no more seat left but here on my lap,” he added.

You saw in your peripheral how Soojin choked on her own saliva. You swear you’d kill Jaehyun once this is all over. You really would, and probably he would do the same to you. Tightening your hands on your purse, you whispered a silent prayer  to the saints who might be watching and listening to you now, then trudged the distance between you and Jaehyun with a heavy heart.

“You can sit here, Y/N. I’ll fetch my own,” Yuta interrupted before you could sit on Jaehyun’s lap. He was smiling while tapping his seat between Jaehyun and Soojin. You glanced at Jaehyun. He had that impish look on him as he stared at Yuta; like he was a toy he wanted to play.

“Y/N, what are you still doing standing there?” Soojin waved her hands, encouraging you to snap out of your reverie and finally sit beside her.

You sat uncomfortably in the plush sofa, glancing at Jaehyun every now and then. There was boredom in his eyes as he looked at the surroundings— of dancing bodies and couples making out in the corner.

“Is he okay?” Soojin whispered. You looked at her and shrugged. Since you have never seen Jaehyun inside a bar before, you really couldn’t tell whether he was fascinated or stultified by the happenings around him. Either way, you ignored him and started drinking when Yuta came back, with a waiter carrying a seat for him.

Soojin leaned onto you again. “Let’s have some fun and leave the boys to have their manly talk.”

You answered her with a stupefied look. But she already got her arms linked to yours, pulling you up from your seat.

“It’s time for us to have some girls’ night, so I hope you both won’t mind!” Soojin flashed the two men her white and perfect teeth.

Yuta glanced at Jaehyun, and then back to Soojin. “Enjoy yourselves while the night is still young.” He smiled.

Soojin suddenly slapped his arms. “You sound like an old man!”

Then she pulled you down the stairs and into the throng of dancing bodies. Soojin screamed before diving into the crowd, pulling you with her. The both of you started to dance, leaving both Yuta and Jaehyun behind.

—

Jaehyun stared at the crowd, his eyes fixated on you. He regretted going to this awful place the moment he stepped in and heard the blasting music, but maybe his night wouldn’t be a waste if he kept on watching you losing your shit into the music.

He took another shot of the liquor, wincing for it didn’t even make his throat tighten. The boy in front of him making everything worth wincing for.

Yuta took a swig from his own bottle, gulping down almost half of its content before looking at you again. The way that he tried to worship you with only his eyes made something inside Jaehyun ticked. Nothing would happen if he won’t break the ice. Taking another shot from his glass, he decided to worsen the tensed atmosphere coaxing their surroundings.

“You’re not human.”

Yuta gave him a sideway glance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah? I can smell your fae shit from a mile so you better cut the bullshit and reveal yourself to me now.”

Yuta seemed taken aback by his words. And that was when Jaehyun knew he already caught the bird. “Are you on drugs? Listen man, I don’t know what’re you talking about,” Yuta said, looking for you in the crowd.

Jaehyun leaned closer— eyes as cold as a dead corpse as he pinned down Yuta with a stare. “You do know what I’m talking about. And I know what you are. But you, you don’t know what I am.”

Jaehyun does not miss anything. Not even the slightest twitch of Yuta’s jaw by his last sentence. He doesn’t know how this fae in front of him hides his pointed ears and he does not give a fuck. But he couldn’t let Yuta sit there and not know that he was in the presence of The Fallen, and that someone more powerful than him could sense behind his glamour.

Yuta have him a calculating look then, the fae senses of him piercing through Jaehyun’s soul. Yet he couldn’t seem to figure out what creature Jaehyun truly is. He was devoid of anything human and monstrous— not a vampire nor a lycanthrope, certainly not a warlock— that much was for sure. In the depths of Yuta’s sleuthing, he found something immaculate, hateful, and eternal. And those feelings only belonged to someone who is older than the world itself— of a creature once descended into heaven, standing beside the Almighty Himself.

“Lucifer?” Yuta whispered incredulously.

Jaehyun continued staring at Yuta until the latter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I see that you’re not as dumb as I’ve expected.”

The fae accepted Jaehyun’s taunting— not that he could do anything other than that in the presence of Lucifer. He should have sensed it earlier, when they ate together. But he was so enraptured by meeting you again he did not had any time to sense that something was amiss.

Giggling, both you and Soojin made your way back to Jaehyun and Yuta. Soojin was the first one to sit back on her place beside the latter. While you slowed your steps, drinking in the intense atmosphere between the two men. What happened?

Soojin was laughing merrily as she told Yuta stories about your little adventure in the dance floor. You giggled with her but before you could take another step, Soojin’s feet suddenly blocked the way, making you trip on your toes. A loud gasp escaped your lips before you closed your eyes and waited for the drop to happen. But a pair of strong hands caught your arms— balancing you. Your nose bumped against hard muscles. When you looked up, you saw Jaehyun gazing down at you.

The world suddenly stopped along with your body. You stared at his eyes, heart beating loudly against your chest. His face, mere inches away from you that you could feel his breath fanning your cheeks. Just like in your dreams— when he guided you towards the center of the hall to dance with him.

To hell with the rules, to hell with the barriers separating you and Jaehyun— for the first time in your whole life, you have never wanted to kiss someone as you do right now. It wouldn’t hurt to let those lips touch yours, right? You closed your eyes, slowly tipping your toes to reach those invitingly red lips when a pair of strong arms grabbed you away from Jaehyun.

It happened so fast. You slammed into someone’s chest yet again. You opened your eyes to see Yuta looking at Jaehyun with enough fire to burn the whole building, arms wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

“What the hell, Yuta?!” you screamed and tried to wiggle yourself free. But he only tightened his hands on your shoulders, causing you to wince. Soojin was stoned in her seat, with her fingers wrapped around the glass of vodka. The people around you started to watch the scene unfolding before their eyes with excitement which annoyed you.

“Enough of this game, Y/N.” His tone was serious, and his eyes never left Jaehyun.

Jaehyun worked his jaw. “Let her go.”

Yuta tensed but he didn’t stir. Which you think amused Jaehyun even more.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Yuta spat.

Jaehyun raised his brow, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes bearing a darkness you have never seen before. A darkness that could summon lightning and storm or break the ground open. It sent chills down your spine. He does not look human at all.

He walked languidly towards Yuta, and only when they stood face to face did Jaehyun let himself talk.

“You dare defy me?”

Every words was slow— like he was tasting the dominance dripping from his mouth. Yuta’s grip on you slackened. Before you knew it, his fist already collided against Jaehyun’s jaw. You gasped along with the people watching on the sidelines. Bouncers ran to where you were located and tried to get a hold of the two men. Jaehyun jerked away from their hold before wiping the blood off the side of his lips.

Soojin was quick to wrapped her arms around you, but Jaehyun grabbed your arms again. The both of you walked towards the exit with you barely catching up on his long strides. He pushed the button on his keys, and his car made a sound.

Jaehyun opened the door for the bullet seat. “Get in,” he commanded.

“No.”

By your answer, he stood there, staring at you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, but you stood your ground. What the hell happened inside the bar? To him and Yuta? And where would he bring you? You have enough questions in your mind not to go with him now.

“Get. In.” He insisted, every word laced with authority.

“Make m—”

“Trust me, chérie. You wouldn’t want to finish that sentence,” he interrupted.

You shut your mouth, blinking. Jaehyun raised his brow, motioning you to get in his car. Sighing, you lazily sat on the bullet seat. Complete silence enveloped you as there was no music playing to carry the uneasiness away. You glanced at Jaehyun every now and then, and every time you do, he was checking on the split on his lips.

Albeit not knowing the true reasons of Yuta’s rage, guilt still rests in the pit of your stomach. You have also known Yuta as a troublemaker when you were still in college. Trouble has its way to cling onto him, and you always find him brawling with another student in the fields of the school every now and then. It is a surprised that he graduated on time despite his records. And now that you think of it, you guess old habits really die hard.

Jaehyun stopped in front of your small apartment. Both of you never said anything as you opened the door and made your way out of his car. But you held on to the door, not letting it close behind you.

You bit your lips, turning to face him, “Let me at least tend to your wound.”

“There’s no need.” Jaehyun tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Please.”

You were surprised to see him open the door beside him and depart his car. Maybe you have never expected him to oblige that easily. He followed you inside the apartment and into the living room. At first, he was reluctant to sit on the sofa.

“You can sit, Sir. We clean the house every day.” You rolled your eyes. Rich people are annoying.

Quickly, you knocked onto Yuqi’s door. When she didn’t answer, you gathered the first aid kit at the drawers located in the kitchen, then poured some water to the glass and served it to him.

You sat beside your boss, then you started pouring alcohol to the cotton balls and started dabbing it on his split lips.

His eyes bore into your face, making you uncomfortable. The redolence of tequila mixed with mint wafted your nose as he spoke, “You should be careful around that boy.”

“You can’t give me orders outside work, Sir.” You exerted a bit force in dabbing the cotton ball, but he didn’t even wince.

“I absolutely could, chérie.”

You snapped, “Stop calling me ‘chérie’.”

“Why? Because it makes you nervous?” He held your wrist, pinning you with his gaze. He was right. It does makes you nervous, but you would never let him see that.

“Ha! Of course not!” You scoffed.

You tried to free yourself from his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. It feels like déjà vu. But unlike the other time, there was no buzzing of phones and dreadful news to stop what was bound to happen.

Before you could even blink, Jaehyun’s lips crashed into yours. Shocking waves of electricity traveled your body. Tickles ran down your head to your toes. His lips moved, and you melted with the feeling that you moved your lips too. It felt like a spark, a slight push to drive Jaehyun mad— for he deepened the kiss, hunger and intensity mixing with it. The cotton ball fell into the ground, along with all your senses. Every ravenous kiss you answered with the same fierceness. You bit each other’s lips, tongues colliding inside your mouths—

Jaehyun immediately pulled away, with a curse escaping his mouth. You blinked at him. The kiss you shared leaving a blackhole into your system.

“Fuck.” He stood up, pacing back and forth. Then he picked up his keys and walked away.

The wheels of his car screeched against the asphalt road. You let him go, because what else could you possibly do?

—

The sound of heels colliding with the floor filled the whole of Jaehyun’s penthouse. He never needed to turn to see who had arrived.

“My prince.” The woman said mockingly.

Jaehyun scoffed, “Chaelin.”

The woman poured liquor to the spare glass lying on the table, then she joined Jaehyun in watching the cars and streetlights below the silence of the city.

“The newborns has been taken care of,” she started.

“Good.”

“Good? You didn’t even bother to visit, knowing that Taeyong is out of the country doing God-knows-what.”

Jaehyun chuckled and gave Chaelin a glance. “What did he say?”

The woman lifted her middle finger. “This.”

He ignored the vulgar gesture and walked straight to where the liquor was located, turning his back again to the woman. “Taeyong isn’t a vampire Primus for nothing. And those newborns are the result of their wanting to spread out their dying legacy,” Jaehyun stated.

“And they are doing an absolute great job on it,” Chaelin added.

Taeyong has been recruiting humans to join his clan of vampires for hundreds of years now. His newborns are usually those who became too tired to be normal. And no, he does not force and bend their necks to sip their blood. Taeyong has a peculiar sense of doing everything in order, so he made a document to be signed by the humans who wanted to be vampire before they go through the process. It’s not a secret that newborn vampires are the wildest breed of netherworlders, so Taeyong made bars that would keep them until it’s safe enough to let them roam around.

His vampires does not harm humans. No one would dare. For he vowed to chop their heads off himself if they dare lay a hand on a person. So they mostly feed from animals. But a dent was made by his newborns when Taeyong flew out of the country to attend whatever bullshit that needed his presence. His newborns almost killed a man, sending Chaelin to fix the mess until their Primus arrived to kill them.

That was the same argument Chaelin and Jaehyun talked about two months ago, the one he suspected you heard.

“By the way, did you give the ointment to the girl?” Chaelin asked, crossing her legs into the futon.

“Doyoung gave me too much shit when I asked him for that. He even forced me to pay five aurum for it. Five. Aurum.” Chaelin emphasized.

Aurum is the money netherworlders used as their currency— the Latin term for gold. And netherworlders refers to vampires, warlocks, lycanthropes and such.

The aurum has the same color as gold and it’s similar to coins, with a circle embossed on it. One aurum is enough to buy (not rent) a small apartment if used in the human world. It’s not a surprised Chaelin has gone a little bonkers to the payment Doyoung insisted her to pay.

Doyoung is a warlock, residing in the forest. He actually owned a mansion in the middle of the forest, and that is where he often does magic. And Chaelin deserved an applause for traveling there alone.

“You went alone?” Jaehyun asked.

Chaelin checked her long nails. “Of course not. I brought Jeno with me. I know it would please Doyoung to see his favorite pup.”

“But Jeno won’t be pleased if he heard you calling him pup. He could be the next alpha.”

“Jeno isn’t as easily insulted as you, Jaehyun. And you can’t talk about that while Johnny is still alive and leading the pack.” The woman rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lilith.”

“It’s Chaelin now.”

“Why? Does it hurt to remember how the Almighty banished you from Eden and literally replaced you with a girl named Eve?”

“Watch it, Lucifer.” Chaelin’s warning earned a chuckle from Jaehyun. “As far as I know, we were both banished.” There was enough venom in her tone that made Jaehyun halt, suddenly remembering the glory he once had.

“And you must know that I don’t bow to the wants of a patriarch,” she added.

“It’s what the Almighty wished you to do, promising to forgive and make a place in heaven for you if you oblige.”

That was true. The Almighty will forgive Chaelin and lift her punishment once she agreed to be loyal and faithful to Adam. But she refused, over and over again. She was lucky, Jaehyun thought, for the Almighty still wanted her in heaven. Unlike him, who He banished beyond redemption.

Chaelin stood up and made her way to the door. She veered the door open before saying, “I don’t want to redeem myself. He could punish me all over again. But I, I won’t falter. For my pride is higher than the heaven, itself.”

Jaehyun shook his head. But he completely understands the woman. He sat on one of the stools in the kitchen counter, breathing in the silence once again.

“Chaelin,” he called out. The woman turned on her heels to hear what he was about to say.

“There’s a fae bastard roaming around. Make sure he’s taken care of.”

He doesn’t need to turn sideways to see the silent nod the woman made. Then the door clicked close.

Chaelin and him— two creatures molded from the same clay. She was casted out of Eden, and him out of heaven. But unlike when Jaehyun was exiled from heaven— all bloodied and bruised— Chaelin had a triumphant smile in her when she walked out of the paradise and into freedom. Chaelin wasn’t even as powerful as Jaehyun, but she was way more happier.

Into the dead of the night, with only the moonlight slipping into the floor-to-ceiling glass of Jaehyun’s penthouse, he thought about you. About the kiss you shared.

It was foolish of him to let the wanting overcome his senses. But the curve and plumpness of your lips made it hard to hang on to his principles. And before he knew what he was doing, he’s already cupping your cheeks, kissing you with a hunger he didn’t know lay quiet inside him. Yes, he’s kissed and bedded women after all those years of loneliness because of Aurora’s death, but he never once felt something as he did when your lips collided with his. He kissed and kissed you, and for the first time, Aurora’s face flashed in his mind. It should bother him, but no matter what he tells himself, kissing you didn’t feel like cheating. Despite all of it, he still wanted to get rid of your taste in his mouth. So he grabbed his phone inside his pocket and dialed a number.

“Get that pretty ass on here, Mina.”

—

[wakaoujisenhime]

Fairytales - Natsuo x reader

Synopsis: One night after escaping the usual family drama, Natsuo - the god of snow - meets you on a park’s bench. The two of you immediately click and he seriously considers revealing the fact of who he really is, anticipating nothing but support and understanding from your side. But what he never expected was rejection... 

A/N: So this is my second work for the bookclub! I’m actually quite nervous since I’m not that familiar with Natsuo’s character so I’m sorry in advance if I didn’t do him justice! (◞‸◟；) 

Furthermore, I’d like to thank (and tag) a couple of the members who showed interest in my story and supported it along the way! A BIG thanks to @bnha-homeroom​ , @hanniejji​ , @wesparklebitch​ , @redbeanteax​ I hope you guys are going to enjoy it! ❤️  

tags/warnings: Natsuo x reader ✅  SFW ✅  angst (like a LOT) ✅ mention of abuse and death ✅   

image/art source: Twitter (art by sakurai0329)

prompt: “You can’t ignore me forever”

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Natsuo was a member of the most famous family of gods and goddesses - the Todorokis.

The reason for their success and popularity amongst the other entities was because of their recently obtained ability to combine two absolutely contradictory elements, namely fire and ice.

To be more specific, the only family member who achieved this rare ability was Natsuo’s younger brother Shoto. 

Unfortunately, this didn’t mean that the rest of his siblings could lean back and cheer the youngest sprout on, no...now there were even higher expectations for the other three. 

“There’s no way you can let your youngest brother surpass you! Work harder, become stronger, become the strongest, and prove to me that your birth wasn’t a mistake.”

Having to hear such words every single day was not only vexing but also painful and their father’s indifference towards their feelings made it even worse. 

Not long after the eldest brother deserted his family and swore to never return, no matter what might happen to either him or them. 

After his leave though, everything started going downhill…

Their mother fell into a state of madness and pure hatred for her own husband. She even held such a deep grudge against him, that one day she unintentionally took her anger out on Shoto, scarring him for life in the process.

When her female role model of a mother was taken away from her, Fuyumi instantly knew that as the only daughter of the Todoroki family she was now expected to succeed her in almost every way possible.

Seeing his elder sister’s and younger brother’s suffering, Natsuo needed a break from it all so he did what he’d always done in dire times like this.

Go down to the human world.

He’d visited many places all over the entire globe, but Japan was the only country that made him genuinely feel welcome whenever he decided to drop by.

Right now the busy streets of Tokyo should’ve been covered by snow, but thanks to all that was going on at their home he hadn’t found the time to use his powers and dye the dark streets and alleys of this city in a purer white than his hair’s.

While he was sitting on a secluded bench, observing the countless walking people hurrying to get back home he let out a deep sigh.

“You don’t want to go back home, do you?”

The sudden voice startled Natsuo. His grey eyes immediately locked onto the source that was standing some meters away from him, the moment he saw you the retort he had prepared was instantly forgotten.

The young man had never seen such a beautiful human in his entire life, your looks, as well as your aura, had stunned him so much that he forgot how to talk for a slight second.

“Y-Yeah...how did you know?”, he stuttered. 

Your silent giggle was like music to his ears, but the moment he came to the conclusion that you were most likely mocking him, his cheeks turned bright red. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you...I just wanted to ask if it was ok for me to sit down next to you.”

“But of course! Please go ahead...”

Even though you were sitting next to him, Natsuo remained as silent as he had been the moments before your arrival. 

Today marked the first day a human had actually talked to him and even if he was extremely happy on the insides, he didn’t know how to show it on the outside. Luckily you noticed how tense he’d become so you took it upon yourself to lighten up the mood.

“Tokyo is way prettier when there’s snow around, don’t you think?” 

A nod.

“There’s something about it, that turns this busy city into a surprisingly calmer one.”

Another nod.

“The snow two years ago saved my life, you know…?”

There was no reaction just...silence.

You took a deep breath and even if you weren’t sure why you intended to talk about your problems in life with a complete stranger, you just did it. 

The talk started with your father’s high hopes that suffocated you every single day, about him being unhappy if your test score was below a B+, how your father would scold you for many hours and sometimes even raise his hand at you or your mother and to wrap things up, you talked about how your mother couldn’t tolerate his behavior any longer and had left you alone with your father. 

When you finished your monologue, you weren’t expecting a reaction from him, but as soon as you glanced to the side you were more than just surprised. 

That young man was directly looking at you with teary eyes and a slightly agape mouth, you could even see his lower lip tremble slightly...it was as if he was trying his hardest not to cry.

Natsuo was genuinely touched by your story since it resembled his own so perfectly well. 

It now made sense why you guessed correctly about the reason he was sitting alone on the park bench. 

So to thank you for sharing that story with him, he returned the gesture and told you about his family situation as well.

“Sounds like both our families are quite messed up, huh?”

“Indeed...”

The tension between Natsuo and you was gone and a long conversation began…

——

“What happened to you brother? You look quite happy!”

The chirpy voice of his older sister disrupted the young man’s thoughts. He was hesitant to talk about you...at least for now, so he just brushed her question off and went to his room.

You guys had talked for almost two hours and the talk would’ve continued if your father hadn’t interfered by calling your phone. 

Before saying goodbye Natsuo asked if he could meet you the following day to which you of course answered with a happy and loud ‘yes’. 

He has never talked to a human before and to think that his first meeting would go so well, surprised him so much that he wondered if this meeting was perhaps supposed to be fate.

Since then the two of you started meeting at the same bench every single day. One time you would be the one to wait for him to arrive and the other time it was his role to anticipate your appearance. 

It was surprising how easily you guys found topics to talk about when you were together and that was a first for both of you. 

For Natsuo, it was as if he had found the puzzle piece he was missing for his entire life. The moment he saw your face always made him feel like seeing the sun rise upon the horizon, paired with your laugh and smile it made him forget any sad or upsetting thing that happened on that day. He was so thankful that you had spoken to him back when he warmed the bench on his own and the question of how to make it up to you occupied his mind on a daily basis.

Flowers? A small gift? A date? Whatever he thought of seemed way to less for such a big presence like you. 

Was there even something you wanted or desired from him? 

He had no idea, but he was willing to give you something he had never given anyone ever before, his heart as well as his deepest secret - namely that he was the god of snow.

——

“I’m sorry! You must’ve been waiting for me for quite some time Natsuo!”

“Oh no (Y/N)! Don’t worry, I just got here myself.”

That was a lie he prayed you weren’t able to see through and apparently luck was on his side today.

It all started like any other day. 

The usual greeting at the same bench from where the two of you were able to see the countless people walking past you and even if the sight and situation were so familiar...Natsuo was perhaps the most nervous he had been up until now.

While you were sharing today’s experiences with him, he was thinking about how to reveal his true identity to you. As soon as your eyes landed on his bend over form he knew that the time had come…

“(Y/N)...what do you think of gods?” 

“Gods? Now that’s a peculiar question...”

The way your fingers rubbed your chin made you resemble one of those famous detectives he had seen on TV, it should’ve been therapeutic but for him, that motion was nothing but torture.

“I don’t believe in those fairytales.”, you said in a low voice.

That answer broke his heart into a million pieces and left him behind with the feeling of betrayal. He thought that if there was someone who’d accept him the way he was, then that person would’ve been you. 

So why?

Why were you rejecting their existence? His existence?

While you explained your point of view, he didn’t listen to any word or sentence you uttered, he instead hunched over more and covered his mouth with his trembling hands, the gesture catching your attention and making you break your speech off in worry.

“Hey, is everything alright? You look so pale all of a sudden.”

Your normally warm hand that was placed on his shoulder was now colder than the coldest of ice he’s ever felt. On any other day, your touch would’ve made him so happy, but not today.

“I-I’m good...no worries.”

Despite neither believing in him nor in his answer, you choose to nod and remain silent.

What you’ve done by answering the question like you did was beyond your imagination.

You see, for gods like Natsuo or the rest of his family members, the faith and belief in their presence were crucial to their existence. But not every human’s opinion mattered...only the opinion of a chosen person was of importance. And you were that person for him. 

Fuyumi had warned him about making that decision, afraid that it might prove to be a quite premature one, but her younger brother didn’t even listen. His trust in you had blinded him up to the point of carelessness. And now...he had to reap what he had sowed.

The reason why Fuyumi had warned him about that hasty decision of his was because of the deadly risk that followed in case the chosen one rejected their god. 

Every time Natsuo would now look at you, he’d end up remembering your hurtful words and that would take away one piece of his soul, shortening his life in the process. 

Gods are immortal.

That’s a statement a lot of humans believe in and it contained the truth..to a certain degree at least.

Those immortal beings humankind spoke of so highly were the type that had fought all life long for acceptance and was now an absolute component of the humans’ religious history. 

While the Todorokis and some similar families were merely gifted with just one special ability, those indestructible deities’ powers on the other hand knew no limit.         

You don’t want to go back home, do you? 

The snow two years ago saved my life, you know…?

Sounds like both our families are quite messed up, huh?

I don’t believe in those fairytales…

All those things you had said to him played back in his mind like a broken record, reminding him of all conversations you guys had and hurting him in the process.

Natsuo tried to stop thinking about you but had to give up soon after realizing that you weren’t just a friend to him.

It was just a matter of days and the normally vibrant and cheerful young man was looking awfully tired and feeble. Those shiny grey eyes of his were now dull and had the darkest of circles enhancing them. 

His family was already preparing themselves for this boy’s death. 

Tears were spilled, accusations were spoken and the last embraces were done. 

After Fuyumi had applied some makeup onto his face, she helped him into an elegant attire, preparing him for what might perhaps be his last day on earth.

“Are you really sure that you want to meet with (Y/N) in that state?”

The boy simply nodded and responded in a silent voice: “Yes...I’d be rude of me to just up and leave without a proper goodbye.”

His older sister had to bite her lip in order to hide the tears that were dreading to roll down her cheeks.

You don’t deserve this pain Natsuo…

With weak and slow steps the said young man walked the same path he took the first day he had come to Tokyo. His eyes registered the unchanging mass of people and made him crack a small and barely noticeable smile - perhaps the first one since long ago. 

It was just a matter of seconds for you to arrive after he’d taken a seat on the bench to preserve some strength for the rest of the evening.

“I’m sorry! You must’ve been waiting for me for quite some time!”

“N-No not at all...I just got here.”

This time this wasn’t a lie.

Your plan for tonight was to show Natsuo your favorite places and maybe give him some recommendations along the way.

During your walk, you quickly noticed that the young man next to you wasn’t in his top form. You had barely even left the park and he was already sweating while desperately trying to hide the fact that an easy task like breathing had become quite the challenge for him.

You noticed of course, so you decided to walk a tad slower, hoping that this would help.

Throughout the entire tour, he remained quiet and absent-minded which discouraged you and let your mind wander off about the reason for his silence. 

Is he perhaps mad about the answer I gave him some weeks ago? 

Your eyes gazed as unobtrusive as possible to your side, eyeing the man who very much appreciated your slow pace.

I didn’t know Natsuo would be that religious…

You weren’t the type of person to lie just to make someone happy, at least not all the time and besides...changing your opinion now would obviously be mare lip service.

Instead, you decided to cut your explanations short and even leave out some of your favorite places.

Let’s try the tour again when he feels better…

Half an hour later and the two of you terminated the expedition under a sole street light that illuminated the upcoming turn for the cars.

“Alright then Natsuo, that was it. I hope you liked it and it wasn’t too boring for you.”

“Y-Yeah, no...it w-was ok- I mean it was interesting...yeah”

You had to force yourself to smile as you watched him scratch the back of his neck out of embarrassment.

So he didn’t like it, huh..?

God...why does this have to be our last meeting…

“So (Y/N)...I wanted to thank you.”

The surprised look on your face made him smile. Your heart skipped a soft beat out of relief to finally see that beautiful smile of his.

“You’ve shown me a part of your world and I really loved spending all those nights with you. E-Even if our time was quite short I was- no I am still happy to have made your acquaintance.” 

It appeared quite suspicious of him to use the past tense and it seemed to you as if he was intending on leaving for a long time. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to ask him since he straight out left after bowing and bidding you a silent farewell.

“Y-Yeah...until we meet again, Natsuo.”

——

The young man’s back leaned against the cold surface of a building’s wall as he tried to prolong what appeared to be his last heartbeats... 

He looked at his trembling hand and as his attempt to move his fingers appeared to be futile, he bit his lower lip in frustration.

Although he couldn’t even walk properly anymore, Natsuo began moving with one goal in mind.

I want to see it…

I want to see (Y/N)’s home... 

If I can’t convince you with words, then I’ll just show you…

I’ll show you that we exist...that I exist 

You can’t ignore me forever...and that’s what I’m about to prove to you…

Wait for me…

...(Y/N)

——

“I’m home!”, you called upon entering your beloved home which you sadly had to share with the man you called father.

Luckily he wasn’t home yet, so you sighed in relief as you headed towards your room.

Upon opening the door, you were in complete awe as you looked outside of your window.

“It’s snowing?”

A wide smile spread across your face the moment you looked out into the night.

I can’t wait to show Natsuo how our park looks like when it’s covered by snow!

You started humming to yourself anticipating your next meetup but missing the white-haired young man lying motionless some feet underneath your window.

The snow that landed on his pale skin covered him like a blanket. 

Comforting him…

Hiding his tears…

Blurring his view…

I hope the ending of this fairytale was to your liking…(Y/N) 

[lazywriter7]

Five Bells

Written for @lightsonparkave prompt one and two. Cheers to the delightful @firebrands for all her words of encouragement.

Summary:  

After returning the Stones, Steve takes a detour through time.

First few lines of dialogue taken from Avengers: Endgame. All other lines in italics, as well as the title, are taken from Kenneth Slessor’s Five Bells.

________________________________

“How long is this gonna take?”

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.”

  Time that is moved by little fidget wheels Is not my time

the flood that does not flow.

 I have lived many lives, and this one life

  “You know which bagel,” Steve says – mostly distracted. Cross-legged, notepad on thigh, he is drafting new training plans for the team; Pietro is proving to be a unique challenge.

“I do?” Tony queries, standing above his shoulder. The couch is low and he towers over Steve. “I don’t remember that being covered by the history books… unless I’d fallen asleep, of course.”

Steve freezes. No, no, he stills. The setting sun angles over Tony’s cheekbone, a deep, burnt red.

Steve lowers his gaze, his skin shivering with the afternoon chill. “Sesame seed, please.”

  Why do I think of you, dead man

 You have gone from earth,

Gone even from the meaning of a name;

  It is in the little things. Natasha’s surprised blink when Steve brings her a peanut butter sandwich, the hollow silence when he curses on the comms and no one chimes the L-word back at him.

It is nothing. It should pale before the face of the big things, the earth-shattering, the miraculous – the reality of getting to hear their voices, see their faces, unblemished, every day.

Even Christmas. Clint snags a thumbnail under the wrapping paper and peels it open from the middle; lifts the box set of Jurassic Park colouring books in the air and shakes it. “Right, ‘cause I’m the toddler of the team, I geddit. Thanks, Cap.”

It’s for Cooper, Steve thinks; it’s dumb, I couldn’t help myself, you haven’t told us and I’m so sorry–

“Did you not have presents in your time?” Tony asks, part snark and mostly befuddled, the multicoloured gleam of fairy lights dappled in his hair.

I didn’t have you in my time – and. And. It is in the little things.

  Yet something's there, yet something forms its lips

And hits and cries against the ports of space,

Beating their sides to make its fury heard.

  “They’re shiny. Silver.” Tony says, bruised eyes, dim with a kind of terror Steve has lived through first-hand. “These big, heaving whales in the air… and everything else is dark. All of you are dead.”

It’s been twenty-three days since Steve told him about December 16, 1991. New traumas evoking older nightmares.

“And I’m alone.”

It wasn’t real, Steve should say. That is the correct response to a nightmare.

It was real, in another, deliberately forgotten lifetime. Five years, and they weren’t even the worst of it.

“We can prepare,” Steve fists his hands by his sides, so as to not reach for Tony’s trembling ones on the kitchen countertop. Everything around them is night and still, but for the flickering of the bulb overhead. “We’ll be ready for them when they’re here.”

It’s like a face shifting from the shade into the light; the gratitude moving over Tony’s features.

The kettle whistles, Tony pads over to the stove – and for an instant, it’s as if a cloud passes and Steve is convinced this is a BARF memory. There by the corner, the real Tony stands with shoulders curled in – gaunt, emaciated, mouthing words.

Liar. Thief. Liar, liar.

  Are you shouting at me, dead man, squeezing your face

In agonies of speech on speechless panes?

Cry louder, beat the windows, bawl your name!

  Tony, Steve breathes – and Tony catches it on his lips.

This has never happened before. Steve has no memories to compare it with, and catalogues every detail to add to a rolodex of sensations, for safekeeping; Tony’s eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s skin, the way the callus on his thumb digs into Steve’s chin when he’s holding it steady, the soft skin in the crevices between his fingers as their hands wound tighter together, the happiness of an impossible moment.

Tony pulls back, smiles softly.

Steve closes his own eyes, brushes his mouth over the corner of Tony’s, where the wrinkles begin – the place missing just a few extra lines.

  But I hear nothing, nothing...only bells,

Five bells, the bumpkin calculus of Time

Your echoes die, your voice is dowsed by Life

  “I have… Arlington.” Steve awkwardly presses himself against the wall of the overfull coffeeshop, paper cup oozing warmth through to his palms. Sometimes, if he lets himself forget, the crowds piling through the street and bustling indoors can still stun him. “There’s a memorial there, I mean. But if I could pick, after I eventually… Brooklyn, probably. In the Barnes family plot, if they allow it.”

“What,” Steve asks – turned morbid by the laughter and press of people around him. Fifty percent. It never happened here. “What about you?”

Natasha looks at him, brow crooking high enough to reach her hairline. Steve used to think that blistering colour came from hair dye, but he knows better now.

“Where I’d want to be buried?” She summarises bluntly. It’s like a wound getting cauterised – relief and pain making everything insensate.

The answer is a farm that isn’t supposed to exist, in the middle of nowhere. “Minsk,” Natasha says instead, and it doesn’t sound like a lie he’s heard before.

  Nothing except the memory of some bones

Long shoved away, and sucked away, in mud;

And unimportant things you might have done,

Or once I thought you did; but you forgot,

And all have now forgotten

   “Happy Sputnik Day!” Tony choruses, Thor’s deep base rumbling alongside his. Bruce is in the attached kitchenette, peering at jar labels in the shelf; Clint and Natasha playing Borderlands on the couch.

Steve comes further in from the doorway, gaze flitting incorrigibly from person to person. “What?”

“You know, Sputnik. The day all of humanity became a little cooler, and the Russians successfully launched the first satellite into orbit, driving the Americans insane.” Tony springs to his feet, wide grin approaching for a morning kiss. “October fourth.”

He barely catches Steve, fingers clamped about the arms, just as Steve pitches into the floor.

One year, one year one yearoneyearone –

Past, present, future swirls together in his serum-perfect brain, gibbering over two words, a fact so carefully forgotten; his breaths grow shallower and shallower, pain shooting through his chest with every hitch, black-spots-inverse-stars shimmering in his vision–

“You’re dead.” Steve rasps out, Tony’s face shuttering in confusion. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it. “You’re dead.”

  Where have you gone? The tide is over you,

The turn of midnight water's over you,

As Time is over you, and mystery,

And memory, the flood that does not flow.

  He’s curled on the couch, apostrophe-like; dry-mouthed but breathing slower against Tony’s denim-covered thigh. Tony drags blunt nails over his scalp, quietly humming under his own breath.

I’ve watched you, Steve thinks hazily – watched you raise a child, watched you be blissfully married, watched you speak to Howard, father to father, and dole out more understanding than he deserved, and let me walk you away from your pristine life and give me more trust than I had ever earned. I watched the silver grow from the temples of your head to the longer hair-strands, to the scrub of your goatee, up to the fleck of your brows. And the longer I keep watching you now, the more I know I’m watching someone else.

“Was so sure,” He can hear his voice reverberate off the floor, more of a croak than anything– “tha’ I wasn’ gonna leave you this time.”

Tony regards him, hum falling silent. There’s a dam there, in those eyes, holding back a wave of slowly stirring anger and injury that Steve fully intends to weather – but is leashed now, for some reason.

This Tony doesn’t have grey in his beard yet, but even as his lips move and Steve braces himself, he says–

“I’ll forgive you.”

  The night you died, I felt your eardrums crack,

And the short agony, the longer dream,

The Nothing that was neither long nor short;

But I was bound, and could not go that way,

But I was blind, and could not feel your hand

  After he’s said his goodbyes, Natasha follows him back to his room.

“Is he still in the plane somewhere?”

Back at the beginning, when he’d been dropping off the Tesseract at Camp Lehigh – he’d briefly considered it. Dropping off an envelope on Peggy’s desk with the coordinates of the Valkyrie, so that the other him could find… something. Maybe a happy ending, maybe just a chance. But all of time and its knowledge had been laid out before Steve, and he hadn’t resisted one extra indulgence.

It was only time before he met Scott, after all. One extra Particle than he had, one trip to the forties and back – and his self could be spared the pain of thirty years in the ice.

In twenty-twelve, Steve changed the course of history merely by showing up; all deep sea vessels, search parties in the Arctic called home. Captain America was alive and well.

“Seventy five, point two three zero six north, ninety nine point one one three zero west.” With every blink, Steve can see her memorising the numbers. “Find him, kick his ass into gear. Don’t let him run.”

She nods, and remains waiting in the doorway. Steve is motionless on the bed, the looming weight of the future wrapped around his wrist.

He looks at her. Natasha’s lips curve straight up, soft and reassuring.

“See you in a minute,” Steve whispers, and disappears.

  If I could find an answer, could only find

Your meaning, or could say why you were here

Who now are gone, what purpose gave you breath

Or seized it back, might I not hear your voice?

  Back on the platform, Bucky runs to him first. His brows are furrowed with faint surprise.

In that other past, and now that was The Other – Peggy had set him free in the seventies, aided by information that Steve left behind. When Steve re-emerged in twenty-twelve, he had no idea where Bucky was and how the years had passed for him – fettering his impulses in steel, and letting it remain that way. His interference would accomplish little, and Bucky had always managed on without him.

Or maybe that had just been easier for him to believe.

“Not the end of the line just yet,” Steve says.

The surprise smooths out of Bucky’s features, so does the staidness; he squeezes Steve’s elbow once and for a second, that grin seems alive.

“I hate running alone,” Steve tells Sam, who’s standing but two paces behind. He strides forward to catch up, reaches out and wraps Sam’s solid fingers over the strap of the shield in one motion. “Hold this for me, will you? Be back soon.”

He turns and walks. It’s a short one – the lakehouse property isn’t really big. There’s grass everywhere, and dandelions, and no headstones.

Just a tall, stately oak towards the side – foliage in full summer splendour. There’s already a circle of dropped acorns around the base, ready to sprout into a hundred, newer lives.

“Hey.” Steve strokes his fingers over the burnished bark. “I’m back.”

 I have lived many lives, and this one life

 Time that is moved by little fidget wheels

Is not my time, the flood that does not flow.

  Outside the lakehouse, Laura is bundling the kids into a van. Clint steps down from the porch, murmurs something to her, then jogs over to where Steve is watching, arms folded.

“She did have family,” Clint says, almost as an aside. “Sisters, a few others.”

Steve breathes the news in. The scent of summer is strong in the air, lilacs and crabapples and the soil itself.

“I have a few of her effects. They must’ve heard, already, but someone should tell them in-person.”

“I’ll find them.” Steve affirms. Clint nods, and walks back to the van, where Cooper sticks his head out of the open windowpane and gets his hair ruffled teasingly for his efforts.

Steve watches, the warmth of the sun beating down his arms and back. He has a feeling Minsk is pretty nice this time of year too.

[quicksilversquared]

Vanished

Emilie Agreste has been getting ill more and more often, and no one will tell Adrien why.

And then, one day, she just....isn't there anymore.

Finish the Alphabet Challenge: Part 8

links in the reblog

  Adrien was starting to get frustrated with his parents. A lot frustrated.

It was one thing for his mom to go to bed early without telling him good-night, because sometimes she got weak and tired and of course the smart thing to do was to go straight to bed to get some rest, just like the doctors had ordered. It made sense for her to not go out of her way to track down wherever in the house Adrien was - or out of the house, sometimes that happened, too- before going to bed. He would get to see her later, after her nap, or the next day when she woke up.

But it was happening more and more often, and no one would tell Adrien why. He was left in the dark, to worry and wonder and pace on his own.

It sucked. But Adrien was a little anxious about complaining, because his father had told him off before about being selfish and demanding extra attention when his mom wasn't feeling well, and he didn't want to be selfish. His parents had enough to keep track of and worry about without him bothering them about things that were none of his business.

(Adrien had trouble with that last bit, honestly- how was his mom's apparent decline in health not any of his business? If she got really ill, that would affect him, right? Sure, maybe he wouldn't be the one in a hospital bed, but- but-

But that still counted as affecting his life, right? Right?)

His mom always thanked him when he didn't ask questions, praising him for not being difficult or making problems. He was the best child she could have asked for, the most well-behaved, and she was so lucky.

But she never answered his unasked questions, or the questions that he asked when he slipped up and forgot not to pry. He was being kept in the dark, and it took practically everything in him not to show how frustrated he was getting.

Don't worry them. Be a good son, don't pry. Worrying will make Mom worse, just- just wait until you're old enough for them to be willing to share-

It was just taking so long. And now, his mom had been sent off to a spa to rest up and recover- whatever that meant, for all he knew she was getting treatment at a hospital and his parents just didn't want him to worry or didn't want to deal with the questions that a hospital visit would no doubt spur- for a week, with absolutely no warning whatsoever. And this was after several days of him not seeing her at all because she wasn't feeling well and had to rest all day.

Surely he was entitled to being able to do some worrying.

But his mom was meant to return tonight, and then he would get to see her again. If Adrien was right about the "spa" actually being a visit to the hospital, then she might even be feeling better again after getting some decent treatment and they could hang out again, just like they used to do all the time before the weak spells ate up all of the time that she had outside of her daily work.

Adrien was looking forward to seeing her again. Still, worry sat heavy in his gut. Something about this- about his mom leaving for the spa without waking him up to say good-bye, about the unexplained illnesses, about not even seeing her at meals on the days when she had been in the house- wasn't sitting right with him.

Maybe it was just worry about her illness, whatever she had. Maybe it was unfounded anxiety, spurred on by the lack of information. Maybe he was just as anxiety-ridden and high-maintenance as his father grumbled sometimes, and it was nothing at all.

Adrien played with his dinner, anticipation at his mom's impending return and worry that he couldn't quite put his finger on making it impossible for him to eat more than a few bites. He watched the clock anxiously, counting down the minutes until the time when Nathalie said that his mom would be back.

Or, rather, when she might be back. Promising exact timelines wasn't smart, Nathalie had told him more than once. Life got in the way, and adults that had said that they would be there at a certain time couldn't always make it. There might be traffic, or something else they had to attend to.

(Oddly enough, that logic didn't apply to Adrien and his photoshoots. He was expected to always be there on time, preferably early, even if he really wanted to stay at fencing or basketball for a couple extra minutes and actually have a conversation with some of the other kids. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to make a habit of being late to things, but surely it wouldn't be a big deal to allow for a little more wriggle room in his schedule?)

The clock ticked closer and closer. The staff finally took Adrien's now-cold food away and he moved into the atrium to read a book- well, to pretend to read a book, at least- and wait.

Closer. Closer. The clock chimed the time, and still no cars pulled through the gates.

….maybe there was traffic?

The clock ticked on. The worried knot in Adrien's gut grew tighter, but he didn't dare disturb his father and Nathalie, still working in the office and no doubt oblivious to the time. An hour passed, and finally Nathalie came out to tell Adrien to go to bed.

"But Mom isn't back yet!" Adrien protested, glancing out the window again, hoping that any moment now, he would see the headlights of whatever car was bringing her back turning into the drive. "Can't I stay up, just this once?"

Nathalie's lips flattened, and Adrien knew the answer before she even said anything. "It is bedtime, Adrien."

Adrien went.

  There was no way that Adrien was going to fall asleep. Not when his mom was supposed to be home and wasn't. No number of "you'll see her in the morning, now go to bed"s from Nathalie could make him actually believe that enough to lay down and go to sleep.

(He had pretended to try, at least, when she came in to check on him. But as soon as the door shut behind her, Adrien had sat right back up, waiting, listening, only growing more anxious as time passed.

And then, at long last, there were voices. But they weren't the right voices.

Adrien hopped out of bed and rushed to his door, cracking it open just enough to peer out. As soon as he did, his heart dropped into his stomach.

There were police officers filling the atrium, concern written across their faces. Nathalie was waving them into his father's office, and Adrien could see his father greeting them just inside. And he- he was actively frowning. Which was weird, because normally Gabriel Agreste just looked haughty and detached. For him to be upset...

That meant that something was really, really wrong. Adrien's gut twisted and he considered going downstairs to try to eavesdrop, but the Gorilla was still out there and Adrien would get in trouble if he wasn't in bed like he was supposed to be.

But how could he go to bed if his world was falling apart? Because that was what was happening- that was what had to be happening. His mom had gone away and hadn't come back, and they hadn't been able to get in contact with her because something had gone terribly wrong.

What if she had been badly ill and everyone just thought that she was tired? What if that illness had gotten worse and she- and she had died?

Surely they would have been told already if anything like that had happened at the resort that she had gone to. There had to be people all over the place who would have noticed if anything was wrong.

But then- what?

Adrien ducked back into his room, only now noticing the blue and red lights reflecting off of the windows of the nearby buildings. He couldn't see the cars from his room- his windows looked out in the opposite direction, after all, not down at the courtyard- but he didn't need to. He had seen the uniforms, he had already seen the police officers there.

Why hadn't his father said anything to him? Surely- surely Adrien deserved to know right away what was going on? Was she missing? Had there been a car accident? A fire? People being held hostage at the resort?

Adrien paced, then sat down on his couch when he got too tired to keep walking and had stumbled several times. He just had to stay sitting up so that he would stay awake so that once his father came in- because surely he would come in right away?- he would tell Adrien what was going on.

The night kept on. Cars passed on the street. There was a small commotion as a group of young adults staggered past, down the street. The flashing lights decreased in number, then vanished completely as the last of the police officers drove off. The moon traced a track across the sky, and still no one came.

A tear traced its way across Adrien's face, and then another. Why wasn't anyone coming to tell him what was going on? He was trying to keep himself from imagining the worst, but it-

-it was hard.

A pink line of light finally appeared across the sky as the sun started to rise again, and still no one had come to tell him what was going on. Adrien rubbed his eyes, swollen and red from both exhaustion and tears, and tried to stay awake just a little bit longer. It was too early for him to go search out his father- he would be furious about being woken up early, after all, and he would probably yell instead of telling Adrien anything- so he just had to stay up a little bit longer. Just a little bit.

  Gerald Brion knew that his employers, like many rich and famous people, were a bit on the eccentric side. They had secrets that they didn't want getting out, ones that even their loyal staff weren't allowed to know. Exhaustion and arguments were kept under wraps, wrinkles smoothed away, early greying covered up with dye jobs. It came with the territory, since the gossip magazines were rarely kind to any sort of aging or flaws that they saw.

Most of the Agreste family's secrets- well, of the ones Gerald knew about, none were particularly scandalous. Sure, there was a bit of an age gap between Mr. Agreste and his wife that they minimized with dye jobs and skin therapy, but- well, it wasn't a huge deal, hardly the scandalous gap that some celebrities had, just something that some people would raise a judging eyebrow at. There were the in-laws in London that Gabriel Agreste would clearly rather forget about, even if his wife loved her twin sister, but quarrels with and disagreements about in-laws were hardly something that was uncommon among married people.

And then there was whatever illness that Mrs. Agreste must have, one that made her exhausted and weak to the point of passing out on a regular basis.

Gerald frowned as he thought about Mrs. Agreste. He assumed, of course, that she had seen doctors about it- but he hadn't taken her in to see doctors any more often than normal for regular check-ups, and there hadn't been any house calls that he knew about, unless they came while he was driving Adrien around to various locations for his activities. And she had been getting weaker lately, canceling her appointments and outings more and more frequently..

According to Adrien, his parents had said that she had headed to a resort to recover earlier in the week. Which was odd, because- well, normally Gerald would have been the one to drive her anywhere that she wanted to go. It wasn't unheard of for Nathalie or Mr. Agreste to take the car on occasion, but normally they at least mentioned that they were doing that and where they were going.

And they hadn't mentioned when she would need to be picked up.

Gerald frowned deeper, considering that. It was possible, of course, that this resort provided pick-up and drop-off. It was possible that Nathalie or Mr. Agreste was going to pick Mrs. Agreste off. It was perhaps possible- though certainly not probable- that he was meant to pick Mrs. Agreste up, but Nathalie just hadn't told him yet, distracted by- Gerald assumed, at least, because that was what was reasonable- setting up the doctor's appointments that Mrs. Agreste so sorely needed.

And then they reached the day when Mrs. Agreste was meant to be returning, and still nothing was said. No requests for pick-ups, no letting him know when to expect another vehicle arriving at the mansion.

No Mrs. Agreste, either.

At just past eleven-thirty that evening, the police were called, and by eleven forty-five, several had arrived to speak to the family- or rather, to Mr. Agreste and Nathalie, who had been the ones last in contact with Mrs. Agreste. Adrien had been bundled off to bed well before the call with the assurance that they were sure that she was running a little late but it was past his bedtime and there was no sense in waiting up. Maybe there had been traffic.

Gerald had checked his road conditions app at that. There wasn't any unusually heavy traffic anywhere nearby.

(Adrien hadn't been particularly convinced, either, but he had gone to his room anyway. Not to bed, though- Gerald could see him staring at the police through a crack in his door.)

(He wasn't about to go up the stairs and correct that behavior, though. In all honesty, Gerald couldn't blame Adrien for being concerned. He was concerned, and he had been through )

The next morning, Gerald found Adrien on the couch in his room, small and exhausted and still asleep. Adrien had probably only just drifted off, if his guess was right, too exhausted to keep staying up like he had clearly been trying to do.

He sighed. The poor kid. Gerald hadn't stayed for the entirety of the police investigation- it had gone late and Mr. Agreste had excused him so that at least one member of the household could get some sleep- but he very much doubted that anything had turned up. Even if something had, the chances of Mr. Agreste or Nathalie actually coming in to tell Adrien anything were pretty slim. They would assume that Adrien had gone straight to bed and to sleep like an obedient machine instead of staying up in anxious wait, and then finally get around to telling him that his mom was officially listed as missing sometime later in the day.

Or maybe that was all bitter conjecture, heavily influenced by the fact that Adrien had clearly been left up waiting by himself. There were still traces of tear tracks running down his face.

Gerald sighed, considering Adrien for a moment before deciding against trying to move him to the bed. He probably wasn't very deeply asleep, and even if the rest that he would get on the couch wasn't going to be the best, it was better than nothing at all.

So he simply checked the settings on the windows to make sure that Adrien had remembered to shade them to keep the sun out the night before, then headed out of the room to see what he could learn. With any luck, the police had at least gotten some sort of lead.

He could only hope that Mrs. Agreste would be found safe and sound soon. If she wasn't….well, her absence was possibly the only thing holding the Agreste family together.

Without her there, they would shatter.

  By noon, news of Mrs. Agreste's disappearance had hit the public, and TV channels picked the news up as an interest piece. The existence of a twin sister complicated things, as did the fact that Emilie Agreste had told her family that she would be going to one place, hadn't ever arrived, texted as though she were there for the entire week, then fell off of the grid when she was meant to be going home.

There were a lot of people concerned. Was it a kidnapper? That could be dangerous for all of them! But maybe the kidnapper wouldn't be interested in normal people at all. After all, Emilie Agreste was famous, from a rich family, and she had several credits to her name- modeling, acting, voice acting, and her own jewelry line, to name a few- that might make her more of a target for someone who wanted money. It wasn't something for the average person to worry too much about.

(Some worried anyways. After all, the Agreste family had drivers and bodyguards and fancy security systems, didn't they? They should be some of the safest people in the city. And yet…)

In London, Amelie Graham de Vanily awoke to a less-than-pleasant visit from a police officer who wanted to know when she had last been in contact with her sister and if anything had seemed off. As it turned out, her brother-in-law hadn't called her up to let her know that her sister was missing, and so the police hadn't known to be more careful with bringing up the news.

(Gabriel Agreste was called one hour and thirty-seven minutes later to get the loudest and most extensive chewing-out that he had ever had- or, well, he would have, except he had set the phone down and ignored the increasingly high-pitched screeching while he went back to work on his designs and only picked the phone back up once Amelie wound down.)

She hadn't noticed anything off, but she also hadn't texted her sister at all for over a week. That wasn't unusual- after all, they were in different countries and had their own lives, and they were busy- but now Amelie was wishing that she had reached out more, or visited more often, or convinced Emilie that Gabriel was no good and she and Adrien should move to London…

(The police noted in-laws do not like Gabriel Agreste but didn't really mark that as potentially important information. After all, despite his prominence as a fashion designer, a number of people found Gabriel Agreste a pain in the rear to deal with, caustic and rude when he felt like his time would be better spent elsewhere. That his in-laws weren't particularly fond of him honestly came as very little surprise to anyone.)

The news ran several times a day at first, asking people to be on the alert for anyone looking like Emilie Agreste (unless they were in London) and providing a hotline to call. There was a reward for information, and a website that people could go to if they would prefer to submit any leads or other information that way.

And gradually, it dropped off. No leads had been found, the hotline remained silent, and the only submission to the website ended up being from before Mrs. Agreste had gone missing at all. People found other things to talk about, and those gradually took over the news cycle instead. Reminders dropped down to once a day, then once every few days, and then only when there was a slow news day and news anchors needed to fill up the time.

Paris had moved on.

  Adrien couldn't remember a time when he had ever been so strung out and exhausted as he had been after his mom vanished. He couldn't sleep well at night, and his eyes felt sandy and heavy even when he hadn't been crying. He spent all of his time anxiously waiting for some news, any news, but if anything had been turned up, no one had told him.

He was being left in the dark. As usual.

He didn't want to do any of his usual activities- Adrien just didn't have the energy- but his father insisted. So Adrien was driven to basketball, to fencing, to lessons, and he had to put on a strong face and pretend that he wasn't falling to pieces on the inside because something had happened to his mom and he just didn't know what. People tended to avoid him even so, clearly feeling awkward and unsure of what to say to him when they really hadn't known him that well in the first place.

Maybe if he had been allowed to stay after and chat with other kids on a regular basis they would have been more comfortable around him. As it was, they weren't close enough to him to really talk about what he was going through.

Adrien's only actual friend was Chloe, and she would rather talk about herself than listen to him try to discuss his feelings at all. He had even had the Gorilla remove her from the mansion once because he just couldn't spare the energy to listen to herself complain about the hotel staff and guests anymore, not when her issues were trivial to start with and seemed outright unimportant and petty compared to his missing mom.

Maybe Chloe didn't have her mom- maybe Mrs. Bourgeois was a terrible person and had run off and left her husband and daughter in the lurch because they weren't glam enough for her- but at least she knew where her mom was. They saw each other sometimes, even if Audrey Bourgeois was always unpleasant when she visited. It wasn't the same.

(Maybe- maybe Chloe thought that it was somehow and that was why she was brushing it off like it was nothing. Maybe she thought that she was providing a distraction and that was what he wanted. Maybe she didn't know how to act, either, and so had doubled down on her usual behavior to try to pretend that everything was normal, just for a while.

Whatever it was- well, it wasn't helpful.)

So Adrien tried to make sense of everything himself, doing his best to heal with (almost) no one to talk to and trying not to drive himself crazy with looking over his last texts with his mom, unable to help wondering if there was something he missed. His father didn't believe in therapists, nor did he seem particularly interested in holding any sort of conversation with Adrien himself about how he was feeling.

Which- well, Adrien could understand that! He knows that this whole thing had to be incredibly stressful for his father, because the police kept coming over and talking to him like he was a suspect somehow or like he might magically come up with a new bit of information and there was all of the media attention and whatnot to deal with, so he couldn't be expected to deal with Adrien, too. It was just too much to have on one person's plate.

(Actually, that was a lie. Adrien couldn't understand it, no matter how logically he tried to lay it out for himself in his own mind. His father was the only immediate family he has left, shouldn't they be leaning on each other for support? Maybe his dad had to deal with more, because of all of the legal stuff, but that didn't mean that he couldn't at least listen to Adrien, right?)

He was alone, struggling to keep his head up. And then…

Well, his father and Nathalie weren't the only adults around who were close enough to Adrien for him to trust them. As it turned out, the Gorilla was more than willing to listen to Adrien spilling his guts. Maybe he couldn't really give a lot of feedback other than nods or grunts, but even being able to talk at someone (someone, not just one of his stuffed animals) had helped Adrien feel a little bit better. His bodyguard's reactions meant that his feelings were validated, at least a little bit.

And Adrien needed that.

Two books on dealing with grief and uncertainty had appeared on Adrien's bed the day after their first conversation, tucked under the covers so that no one else would notice them. Several printed-off sheets of paper were tucked between the pages with little highlighted sections and scribbled notes, an additional personal touch that neither Nathalie nor his father would have thought of. Another page held instructions for how to get past the internet monitoring systems that Mr. Agreste had, and a handwritten link to a website where he could chat with a therapist online if he needed to.

For the first time in weeks, the tears that slid down Adrien's cheeks weren't sad ones.

Maybe he didn't have all the support that a normal kid in his situation would have, but at least he wasn't alone. He did have someone who was willing to listen and sympathize with him, and while maybe that wouldn't bring him answers about what happened to his mom sooner… well, it helped. A lot.

And now- well, maybe now Adrien could start to heal.

[hate-spiked-blog]

Surprises

February 12, 22 CLE.

It was getting cold outside...much too cold. She needed to come home. Wanted it, even.

She supposed to an extent she did feel guilty about lying to him but it was a necessary evil. It was all to make her easier to handle, more palatable. She’d said it was for an extensive job, somewhere far away, but the truth was more sinister. She’d been so, so very hungry. So many nights of full body aches for so desperately wanting food...real food. Not pork and raw steaks. It wasn’t enough. So she’d gone a little crazy. She’d gone to the forests outside of Noxus and gorged herself on unwary travelers. Undoubtedly the bones picked clean would be blamed on razorbeaks or murkwolves. She’d done this so she could try to go longer this time without having to relapse. Nobody could say she wasn’t trying.

Fully sated, she’d made her way back to Zaun. She wrapped herself in her coat, nuzzled her chin down into the collar, to keep the cold out. The coat was still a pristine white, just as if he’d just bought it, and not like she had used it as a blanket while she slept in the wild. Her fine claws had been enough to pick the moss and bark out of the fine minkfur. Her hair and skin, however, were in a much worse state. A detour into a bar would fix that.

Evelynn sauntered in, and she was surprised. This place was crawling with people. It was only seven. On a Tuesday. She scuttled past them with collar drawn up for obscurity into the bathrooms, and began the process of scrubbing her body clean with sinkwater, and using paper towels to dry down. Her hair, once magenta, had faded to a dull mauve from the exposure to the sun. She’d have to dye it again soon, but she didn’t want to waste too much time. She’d already sent him word she’d be home tonight. She didn’t want to disappoint.

Clean and dry, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a bottle of perfume. Another gift from him. She’d been skeptical of it at first. What did men know of perfume other than price tag? But it had become her favorite...and his too. She stalked out of the bathroom, but paused when she heard the singer on stage begin to speak.

“This next number is dedicated to the lovers in the crowd. A song for Heartseeker’s Day.”

Fuck. It was Heartseeker’s Day? Suddenly the crowd made sense, as did all the women in pinks and reds and violets.

She had no real understanding of what it entailed. She knew Heartseeker’s Day as the prime day for agony harvesting in years pasts. Single people on this day were always so much more lonely, and so much more willing to turn a blind eye to her blue skin for a little company. But now that she was in a relationship? Not a fucking clue.

Flowers were for women. She couldn’t get him flowers. Sex was inevitable. It always was, especially since she’d been gone for a little over a week now. He’d be ready to strip her at the door, most likely. That would be no special gift either. What did he want? The muscle tissue and flesh getting digested in her stomach said it all.

He’d like to see her try to eat. He always did. It gave him a lot of joy in those big green eyes to watch her put animal meat in her mouth instead. She didn’t want to eat it and potentially get sick, and waste all this effort. But maybe, just maybe, this time she wouldn’t get hungry like that again. A few streets down, she was familiar with a restaurant that was Ionian-owned. Zaunites and Piltovians alike loved their foreigner food. She made a beeline through the tables of the bar, and slyly filched a man’s coinpurse as she passed.

She made her way to the restaurant. The owners turned pale at her appearance. She paid them no heed. She pointed long fingers at random items on the menu. She also requested any raw pork they had. They obeyed her command with shaking hands, and She left the entire bag of golden hexes for them. They seemed relieved to see her leave, and her pointed ears picked up the sound of the placard being flipped to “close” as she walked out. She’d done them a favor.

She wisped and wound her way within the shadows to his “safehouse”. It was truly an unfitting word for a place so opulent. She didn’t bother to ask how he afforded it or how he hadn’t been found. Just like he probably wouldn’t bother to ask where she’d truly been. They always took things at face value; it was the easiest way. She was nearly stopped at the entrance, but an unearthly growl made the door boy turn a blind eye. They simply didn’t want just anyone let into The Dalton Waltz Grand.

Up the elevator. Thirty floors. To the very top.

The doors dinged, and the elevator attendant let her through the interwoven iron grate. He frowned at her, sneered down his nose. She returned his distaste with a threatening smile, baring her two sets of pointed canines. These hotel boys needed to fuck off. She had a man...and she guessed herself, too...to feed. 

The clicking of her heels was muffled by the plush red rug that wound down the entire hallway. At the end of the rug was a door, for which she had the key...somewhere. She patted her body with her free hand, as the other was occupied by the paper bags full of Ionian fare. Shit, had it fallen out of her pocked in the woods? Damn it. It just was not her day. She jammed a long claw into the keyhole. The locking mechanism broke but her claw did not, though it’s layer of expensive lacquer had been scraped off. She stepped through the door and closed it. She’d call maintenance up to come fix it eventually, when she wasn’t around to take the blame.

The living room was empty of her Gambler. Strange. He was always home to greet her. He always seemed to just know when she’d arrive and he was always on the couch, inexplicably. Big grin across his lips, eyes twinkling. She wondered if he’d ever ported there with his magic, just to not break the tradition. Knowing him and his love of being showy as possible, it was a pretty high probability.

But now, the tradition was broken. Where was he?

“Twisty?” Evelynn called. She stepped into the kitchen and unceremoniously dumped the bags of food on the counter. “Twisty, you better not port behind me and grab me, I’m not in the mood.” She growled. All this effort for Heartseeker’s day and he wasn’t even home? Ugh.

Her pointed ears twitched slightly. Was that a grunt...and a sigh? That was him, alright. Unmistakable. She knew all his noises. Why would he be grunting? She sniffed. The air smelled sweet, and the scent originated from the bedroom, behind a closed door.

There better not be another woman in there.

She had no reason to think that he would, but she was nothing if not insanely territorial. She crossed the white carpeting to the door in record time and all but threw it open. “TWISTED FA-....” She paused in her tracks, mid shout. There was no woman. But there was an abundance of chocolate. Just not in a box.

“Oh, Sugar! You’re home. Happy Heartseeker’s Day, Evie.”

Yellow eyes squinted down at him. He was sitting on his rump, on the carpet, one knee bent and the other leg resting on the floor. He was leaned back in a way she presumed was supposed to look seductive, but there was something wrong. His hands were behind his back. He was also nearly nude, and covered in chocolate that he’d clearly painted on himself, as the remnants of the tin and a paintbrush were off to the side on a bedside table.

“What in Runeterra are you doing?” She questioned, baffled.

“I’m surprisin’ you.”

“With....?”

“Me. I’m th’ present.” He winked at her. She scowled.

“What am I supposed to do with you now that you’re covered in a sticky mess? And where are your hands? You’d need those.”

“Yer ‘sposed to lick it off of me.” He stated matter-of-factly. She squinted harder.

“Your girlfriend, who cannot stomach human food, is supposed to lick chocolate off of your chest. Twisty, it’s all caked in your chest hair.”

“Well, it was liquid at one point. I had opened th’ window t’ stay cool while it applied, but I stumbled upon ‘n issue and now...”

“It’s hot as fuck outside...and it’s dried solid. Why haven’t you gotten up to wash it off?”

“I can’t get up.”

“What!? Why?”

“Handcuffs.”

Evelynn rubbed her eyes with her fingertips and sighed loudly. “I’m not playing this game. Port out like you always do when I cuff you and wash up. I brought home dinner.” She went to turn and walk out of the bedroom. She wanted to get a taste of the raw pork in before she had to stomach the rest of the food. 

“Y’ see, the problem here is that I can’t port out.” He called after her.

She turned around “What?”

“Th' surprise was that I’d gone 'n had these special cuffs made. I know I get antsy sometimes so I figured I’d get magical enchanted ones for you to put on me. I put the commission in weeks ago.”

“Why can’t you get out?”

“I forgot the password. Remember when y' wrote that word on that piece of paper I asked you for?”

“Not at all.”

“That was the password I gave to the crafter. I looked at it but I just can’t remember. I’ve been tryin’ all afternoon.”

“Oh my g-...I can’t believe...!” She groaned, exasperated. She didn’t remember the paper at all.” Shouldn’t it be something easy? Like my eye color?”

“Yellow’s the word we use when I want you to lighten up a little on the beatings. I’ve tried Marsupial, Succulent, Capricorn...”

“I’m not a Capricorn. I’m a Scorpio.”

There was an audible click, and his hands came out from behind his back. He sighed in relief and cracked his shoulders with a moan. She smiled at her, the one she missed when he hand’t been on the couch. Her irritation melted.

“Well. Wouldja lookit that?” She merely rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Come on. Let’s go eat.” She pulled him to his feet, and cracklings of the dried chocolate fell onto the carpet. She peeled a piece off of his neck and placed it gingerly on her tongue. It wasn’t super sweet. There was bitterness to it. He’d thought about what type to get...it was just like him.

He watched her eat it, and smiled wider when she didn’t wince. His hand snaked around her waist and he leaned down to kiss her.

[lavieenjones]

January 18th, 2017

It’s been 103 days since I’ve issued an installment of This Parisienne Life and as I officially started my job in France six months ago today the timing felt… apt. I was going to say celebratory like it was an important anniversary, but I don’t know if this is true. I will say it’s been the most challenging six months of my professional, and maybe personal, life. So it is a triumph that I returned after Christmas I suppose.

Since my last post I have been back to Chicago to get my visa (can we say offish?! Eek!) for which I packed way too many sweaters and not enough Xanax, traveled to Scotland and met up with Rachel and David to do amazing things, strolled around the streets of freezing Paris with Denise and my sweet niece, grieved for our country with my mom while aimlessly wandering the bowels of the Louvre, said I was going off cheese and wine 42 times, enjoyed cheese and wine 43 times, got a new piercing in London, fled to Lisbon for a weekend and had a Portuguese pigeon poop on my face, got the “Euro-croup”, brought it with me home for Christmas and after spreading it to my grateful family, I enjoyed the sun and sand before heading up to Chicago to toast Hillary and Mike. Then it was back to Paris for a week before Jack joined me for some Eiffel towering and more Louvre-ing, and I am even now writing this from a hotel off Plaza de Santa Ana in Madrid. And now I can say that I learned how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit in Spain.. and if you’re going to test me, it’s: *2+30 (wait, is that right? It only took me six months to ask someone..). I could not have planned a more eventful, tiring, incredible time.

As for Scotland, what can I say about that slice of adventure? Late October in the Highlands equates to trekking bright orange foothill terrain, warm nights in the pub with traditional music blaring and American politics the only topic of conversation, tart, wild blackberries we foraged for ourselves, gypsy creams, medieval and Monty Python castle touring, long-haired highland cows (two dozen strong), and mortal combat battles on a still-functioning Nintendo in the hotel bar. It is also here that we realized that each roundabout is unique and shitty in its own way, all Highland hotels are haunted (for sure), I realized that Scotch tastes like band-aids, and the mystery of where my internal compass went was finally solved after a night out in Perth when a repressed memory apparently surfaced and I proclaimed that it fell out of my butt. All in all, Scotland was pure, awe-inspiring, alien bliss.

Now, before I divulge all the secrets to French living (jk, I haven't figured out a single one yet), I'll walk you through my daily life as its evolved: my main objective every day is to find the largest coffee I can on my block, in my arrondisment, at my office, on my office’s block, in the office’s arrondisment.. you get the idea. This has actually not changed since I arrived. Unfortunately the answer to this quandary is either buy three 30 cent café crèmes (espresso and I think like dried milk that they add water to?) and pour them all into a Ryan Gosling “hey girl” mug to give the illusion of enjoying a perfectly proportioned “American” coffee OR you can get straight up Starbucks diesel drip coffee. I usually go for the former and then sit twitching and ticking for the next 2.5 hours. Somedays I don’t know what I wouldn’t give for a Dunkin Donuts. After coffee- because before or even during coffee I am just sitting at my computer staring at emails that are out of focus while my team ticks off the list of current issues we’re to deal with… which sounds a lot like the teacher in Charlie Brown- I attend a couple of meetings in which always/mostly begin in English for my benefit and then 10 to 15 minutes in switch over into a lot of sidebars in French, to which I never receive the CliffsNotes. Then everyone that works on my floor clears out for lunch. I usually don’t notice until I realize I am not trying to block out anything—that’s when it hits me, the trifecta emotional onslaught of: what am I doing here, doesn’t anybody love me, and then the defiant, I don’t want French food for lunch anyway.. Then I sneak down to one of the various cafes/small food providers on “campus” and bring a sad assortment of fruit and non-descript meat products up to my desk. Then around 4pm (or 16h as I am trying desperately to transition to little avail) I see if one or both of my two friends here want to get dinner or drinks and when is the soonest we can go. And I usually wrap up the day with stopping by a market of some various offering (cheese, wine, fruit, bread, all of the above) and watching an episode of the Mentalist or if Denise is reading this, doing a French lesson on Pimsleur.

I had written down some tales from the last three months on my phone but can't find them to include here, instead I found this gem: Day 108- The streets of Paris are drenched. It's been raining for a week. I drank too much wine at dinner, woke up late and bleary eyed. Forgot mascara so I'm condemned to look like a newborn mouse all day. Then split my pants as I hopped into an uber and went to work anyway. Basically sat at my desk for 8 hours straight and kept my head down. Maybe this is the key to looking productive all day. So, perhaps it’s no wonder I eat lunch alone. Mostly kidding. Anyway, I read in a book at the airport that it is very French to say everything is “terrible” (pronounced: terr-ee-bluh). How was your day? Terrible. How is your coffee? Terrible. How do you like this bar? Terrible. So perhaps I am just more fully assimilated at this point. And as frustrated as I get with the Frenchness of my situation, make no mistake, I am awash with gratitude when I think about where I am tonight, and where I’ll be going home tomorrow.

And before I go, I’ll leave you with a few observations on life in France: It is so hard. As we’ve established, my French is crap and I continue to sit in isolation all day, every day at work. It is wet. So much winter rain. It just can't bring itself to be 20 degrees lower and snow like any other self-respecting northern city. How is the weather? Terrible.. The man bun is alive and well and I am so happy about it. In fact, it’s man bun + beard + casual suit. Comment dites “swoon” en Français? People will tell you the wrong directions just to get rid of you. C’est vrai! Terrible. French women don’t dye their hair. And actually the grey that shines through is quite pretty. And lastly, it is very far away from my family and friends. It was really hard to come back after two blissful weeks in Florida. It's not as if I'd be surrounded by loved ones at all times if I didn’t live in France, but I'd see them a whole bunch more than I anticipate I will in 2017. And it’s daunting knowing that I actually don’t have a clue what this year will hold. But, in a surprising twist, I was given a French menu last week—and you might recall (or likely not) this was my one-year goal after arriving. And even though my boss says my French "eese terreeblah” and “elementearee reebeca" and I scored 17 out of 100 on my French exam, I must pass muster in some respect. Or maybe they just don’t care and want to make me suffer by ordering cold meat mush and vinegar-soaked veggies (not saying this has happened..).