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bettyfrommars · 2 months ago

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Death Becomes Us

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Reader

Part 11: Strange Blood

masterlist playlist

18+only, smut, unprotected piv, oral, blood drinking, mind-bending moments, supernatural elements, vampires, fear of the unknown. Hopper and vampire!Joyce, werewolf!Steve, and a few others.

word count: 12.4k

Summary: All I can say is that this is another wild one, lmao. Not an action-packed rollercoaster like the previous chapter, but definitely some odd things going on. You know me, it gets a bit wacky. It's been my honor to be on this journey with you, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. I love you, dear readers.

A/N: Hi everyone who has patiently waited for more of this story, Betty finally did it! I had a hard time coming back to this one only because I wasn't sure in which direction I wanted to take it. Oh, and also, I forgot how to write there for a while but anyway, the previous chapter was such chaos, and I wanted to take them in a different direction, so I did. Although this is the end of the series, there is still plenty I want to write for the True Blood universe, so this will not be the end.

------

this picks up right where part 10 left off

“I have dreams about you too, you know,” Eddie said softly from the edge of the bed. Shirtless and quickly healing after the bullets were removed, he used both hands to pull his hair into a ponytail, and then released it.

Sweat bloomed on your scalp, and all you could do was swallow thickly, spinning on your heel to head for the hallway.

“I’m sorry if what I said was too much,” you babbled in a rush. “We can just forget—”

Eddie hopped up to snatch your hand. “Hey wait—don’t,” he heard the harsh desperation in his voice and then softened it to a whisper. “Please.”

You stopped in your tracks and let him tug you backwards slowly, step by step.

Before he could put his arm around your waist, you turned on a dime, sliding fingers along the cool ripples of his ribs, watching his parted lips, the way his breath hitched in surprise. It felt like there was no time and no distance in between his mouth and yours; suddenly they clashed together and your hand made a fist in his hair.

He wasn’t expecting it, but neither were you, and it was a breathless, awkward meeting of teeth for a moment. Stumbling back so that his legs hit the back of the bed frame, Eddie toppled to the mattress, taking you with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the tension that had been building between the two of you, or the adrenaline from the recent vampire massacre that happened right outside your door, but you devoured each other like it was the last day of immortality.

For as much of a prick as he could be out in the real world, Eddie was gentle and eager, taking your clothes off with trembling hands so that he didn’t rip them before he tasted you from face to hip, kissing down the jagged scar on your sternum while you clung to his head and writhed.

It was more than foreplay to him; his attention was a form of worship, the next best thing to running his mouth was filling it full of you.

You clawed at his belted black jeans and he smiled against your kiss. “So, does this mean you like me?”

Your eyes locked while you helped to push his denim jeans down to his hips, your heart in your throat. “You need me to say it?”

“You don’t have to, but I’ll say it,” he lifted up on his forearms, his hair tickling your cheeks from the way he hovered over you, one dimple popping up from his crooked smile. “I really really dig you.”

“Show me,” you whispered, lifting to slide your nose along his, making a shiver run through him.

“As you wish, m’lady,” he chuckled, pushing his jeans all the way off and kicking them to the side with such force that they hit the wall.

He had no right to be so gorgeous, you thought, running hungry hands down the icy, tattooed flesh of his stomach where the bullet holes had already healed. A single whisper of, “I wanted this for so long,” came out in a breathy whisper when he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Being pressed up against your skin made him feel like he was standing too close to a raging bonfire, like maybe his body hairs would get singed. He wanted to beg you to leave a mark on him; the branding iron of your touch to claim his animated corpse.

He made you come with his mouth first, growling into you as you shook and fluttered on his tongue. His skill level suggested that it was not his first rodeo by far, but you could tell he was listening and learning about the things that felt best to you, the right speed and pressure that made you cry out his name and claw at his skin. He wanted to please you—more than that, Christ—he wanted to be the only one.

Eddie fucked you into next week. Each of you were sweaty and depraved, but his saliva felt like melting ice, and you could almost hear it sizzle when it met your heat. Tongues wrestling together, moaning sweet and filthy things until you were bouncing on top of him, hips snapping up to meet you, cumming so hard you thought you might explode into vapor.

His fangs latched onto the side of your throat after you begged for it, making everything messy and sticky. You liked hearing the way he whined when the tang of your blood hit his tongue, the way he fed from your vein, sealing the wound with a few kitten licks. At one point, with crimson dripping down either side of his chin, he was taking you from behind and his hips stuttered.

“Roll over,” he rumbled. “I need to see you.”

And that was how he came, buried deep with his eyes locked on yours, spilling every drop until he was almost convulsing. He sliced a cut on his chest with the fingernail of his thumb, and coaxed you up to drink from him, moaning at your insatiable hunger, the way you moaned into him.

Eddie might’ve been lost in the heat of the moment, but he knew what he felt for you was more than just… “like”. His head spun when you whimpered things like, “deeper Eddie, cum inside of me.”

It’d been years since he’d slept with someone he cared about, but even then, it wasn’t like with you. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as the gentle kisses you planted on his palm before sucking his fingers while you rode him.

Yeah, he had it bad for you.

Neither of you bothered to clean up once the pace began to slow down. He rolled onto his side to make out with you with dried blood in the corner of his mouth, not ready to end what you just shared, for fear it would never happen again.

No one who mattered ever stuck around.

He ran a tender thumb over the scar on your cheek that was also caked with a line of crimson. “So, you were in a…car accident?” He asked in a whisper.

“Apparently I died,” you laughed to soften the harsh truth of it. “My father tried…” you trailed off, and Eddie was about to say you didn’t have to talk about it, but then you continued. “I guess you could say he exchanged his life for mine.”

“I wish I could’ve met him,” he trailed off, tracing your eyebrow with his finger. He interlocked his fingers with one of your hands and held it to his chest. “Tell him how grateful I am.”

“He would’ve liked you,” the thought of never being about to introduce Eddie to your father made tears swell. Eddie scooped you closer, pulling your leg up by the crook of your knee to wrap your thigh over the sticky length of his cock.

“This is nice,” he hummed, eyelids flickering shut to the feeling of your warm breath on his shoulder. “Stay with me for a minute?”

The two of you dozed off, and you awoke to Eddie shooting upright into a seated position with a jolt.

“Shit, it’ll be dawn soon,” he hissed, head spinning to look at the digital alarm clock by your bed.

You sat up too, looking at the big window with thin white curtains that could never block the potentially murderous rays of the sun.

“I could cover it with…something else? A comforter?” You hurried to shuffle off the mattress, suddenly panicked at the thought of what would happen if he was exposed to daylight.

He was up and yanking his jeans on. “These windows are a death trap,” but then a thought made him smile to himself. “I guess if my time comes, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Your time has NOT come, okay?” You hastily pulled a t-shirt on from one of your drawers. “I refuse to let the best sex of my life go without a fight.”

He cocked his head with a blushing smirk and repeated his question from earlier. “Does that mean you like me?”

“Stop it,” you playfully shoved him on your way by, scooting a pair of shorts up your hips. “This is serious.”

“Oh it’s very serious,” and then he caught your hips with both hands before you could get too far away and pulled you back.

“Let’s get you to a safe place first,” you muttered against his lips. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A loud thud banged on the roof like a good sized rock landed from the sky, and you both knew it was Bela returning from wherever she’d been for the past few hours to avoid the danger. When You turned the light on in the living room, Dio stretched and yawned from her position curled up on the arm of the couch.

From where you stood at the mouth of the hallway near the kitchen, you could see the front of Eddie’s trailer through the courtyard facing window. A few steps more and you could see half of it, somehow unscathed by the fire.

Surely, your eyes were playing tricks on you.

Maybe it was the backside that had been affected by the flames? Maybe it was still too dark to see, but the sun would be up soon enough—

“Eddie?” You motioned for him to follow you, to see what you were seeing, and then you stood side by side, dumfounded.

Surely, most of his house should’ve been nothing but a pile of charred wreckage.

An eerie feeling of fear washed over you, making your eyes dart over to the television screen, waiting for a face to appear like Brenner’s had the night before.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered. “How could your trailer survive the fire without a scratch?”

Eddie’s pinky hooked onto yours when he couldn’t find the words.

You let out a heavy sigh a beat later when you figured it out. “This is another dream, isn’t it? Of course it is.”

“No, no way,” he shook his head, paying attention to the horizon that would soon light up with his demise. “There’s no way we would be in the same dream like this. This is real.”

Seeing Bela sail in the front door and land clunkily on the top of the TV gave you a huge amount of relief. You patted the top of her smooth head a few times, thankful to have her as a constant.

“Be right back,” Eddie said just before he did that vampire thing and zipped outside at the speed of light. You watched him dart in and out of his trailer, and then he was back at your side again.

“That’s my trailer, all right,” hands crossed over his chest, he gnawed his lower lip in contemplation. “Nothing’s missing, nothing was burned. Even my guitar is over there, when I know I brought her here. Doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“No it doesn’t,” you agreed softly. You should’ve been grateful his trailer was untouched, but instead it filled you with dread.

Eddie turned, eyes narrowing on the deep orange creeping over the mountains.

“I need to get underground,” he started looking around, like maybe he could dig a quick hole in the floor. Instead, he went over to the western style couch with wagon wheels and cowboys on the upholstery and inspected it.

“Have you ever checked behind here?” He asked.

“No,” you frowned. “Why would I?”

In one effortless swoop, he moved the piece of furniture away from the wall and then stood back.

There was a door built into the carpeted floor near the wall, complete with a handle and lock. At first you couldn't see it, because it was covered in orange shag to match the rest of the living room. You rested your tongue between your teeth, dumbfounded.

“Yeah so that’s a Sunlight Safe Room,” he scratched his head. “They were built into all of the trailers way back in the day. I just never thought to check for yours until now.”

He pushed the couch to the middle with Dio still asleep on the armrest. “Call me paranoid, but I don’t want to be too far from you,” he knelt to open it. “I can stay out of the sun here, if that’s okay?”

You were tempted to “go to rest” with him just so he wouldn’t somehow disappear like the evidence of the fire had. Inside the hatch were ten metal steps downward that opened to a modest concrete area with a twin mattress on the floor.

It looked creepy as hell, like something you’d see in a horror movie like Silence of the Lambs.

“I’ll get you a pillow,” you turned, but he called your name.

“There’s no time,” he was halfway down the steps. “I’ll see you after dusk, okay?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid to be without him, but you nodded.

“I’ll lock it from the inside,” he said as he pulled the door down and descended. “Stay safe okay? I’ll still be able to feel you if you’re in danger.”

He wanted to say something else to you, words that were clenching on his heart, but then worried it might be too soon.

Bela threw her head back and screeched, stretching out her wings.

“Okay.” You gulped. “I’ll miss you.”

He smiled generously at that, just as the neon light of morning blossomed over the trailer park and you heard the click of the lock on the inside of his…what would you call it? Tomb? No, it was a Vampire Safe Room.

You shifted the sofa back in place and crossed your arms over your chest to stand and stare out the window at the untouched gnome on Eddie’s front steps, still flipping you the bird.

If only its impish mouth could talk.

—-------

After dozing off on the sofa above Eddie for a few hours, you snapped awake flooded with fear that everything had gone back to “normal”. But the door in the floor was still there, and Eddie was still in it; you could hear him snort-snore every so often. The sound made you feel a tidal wave of relief.

If you’d somehow slipped into another dimension, at least you still had Eddie.

You took Dio back over to Eddie’s untouched trailer, just in case Bela forgot her manners, and you asked your demobat companion to keep an eye on Eddie while you were gone. She chirped a few times, swaying back and forth to let you know she understood while she munched on chopped up bananas. She wasn’t very hungry, but the claws on her wings had a hint of blood on them, and you figured she found something to eat in the woods, but you didn’t want to know what.

You hadn’t touched your Polaroid camera in a while, but you used it to snap a photo of Bela then, with her gnarly grin stuffed with banana mash, and then you clapped the land camera shut and put it in your bag.

There was not a single thing amiss in the courtyard of the Crimson Terrace trailer park. No blood in the dead grass, no tracks from all of the vehicles and the crowds, and your hearse did not have a single new scratch.

You shot a glance over your shoulder where Bela perched in the window, wondering if it was a good idea to leave Eddie defenseless like that with how weird everything was. You shivered and zipped up the rest of your hoodie.

On your way around to unlock the driver’s door, your landlord Dolores spotted you from four trailers away and came out to wave you down. She wore one of her signature muumuus with pink curlers in her short, auburn hair. .

You flinched as you walked up her three steps to the small porch, thinking she’d interrogate you about all of the chaos, or have an issue with you spending time with your vampire neighbor.

But it wasn’t a scolding she wanted to give you; it was a letter.

Adressed to you with no return address, the envelope was weathered yellow like it had traveled across the ocean by rowboat, and then the rest of the way by horse and buggy. She’d found it on her doorstep that morning.

“Thanks,” you said absently, turning it over in your hand as you walked off. You waited until you were safely behind the wheel and down the street before you opened it, trembling.

The piece of parchment inside was wispy thin, but the date was somehow...exactly a year from the day you were in.

That had to be a mistake. The person just messed up the numbers, it happens.

You’re probably very co fused right ow.

That was how the letter started.

You stared at the words with dry, unblinking eyes, noticing that the letter “n” was missing from the typeset.

You folded the paper over in your lap and checked to see if anyone was nearby watching. You bit on the cuticle of your pinky finger for a few seconds before opening it again.

You’re i a slightly differe t timeli e ow. That’s all I ca say without revealing too much. Ma y thi gs will be differe t, but some will be the same.

A laugh bubbled in your throat; one of those insane laughs appropriate for absolute absurd things. It had to be a joke, one that you did not find particularly amusing.

A different timeline? How was that even possible? You’d been introduced to many odd things you never previously believed existed, but this one was a little more difficult to wrap your brain around.

Whe the time is right, everything will be revealed. U til the , stay safe.

It wasn’t signed, and there was no hint as to who or where it had come from.

You turned the weathered, creased paper over as if there might be a photo of the author, and then you stared out the dirty windshield, letting it sink in.

The most bonkers thing about it was that it actually made sense. It was the only possible explanation for there being no sign of any of the wreckage from the night before.

If it wasn’t a joke, then who was this messenger committed to giving you a heads up?

Tucking the letter into your bag with a hard swallow, you cranked the radio up on the way into town, headed to Main Vein. The trees were bare, and the sky was heavy with clouds, hiding a dollop of egg yolk sun behind their veil. You’d drop in to get your new schedule from Bob, and perhaps see if the town of Hawkins had changed.

You caught sight of Argyle’s VW beetle parked down a side street and smiled to yourself, knowing at least that was a constant. Main Vein was still housed in the same building, but the red neon sign in the window said VEIN ON MAIN instead. .

Robin’s bookstore appeared to have a quaint cafe attached to it. You were able to get a glimpse of her there, sitting at a small, round sidewalk table. Her hair was longer, worn in a ponytail, and she held hands with the other woman across from her. At their feet was the tan pit bull terrier who had helped you defeat the Klemps all of those months ago in the alley.

At least it looked like the same dog.

Would they remember you at Main Vein? Or…Vein on Main?

You drove around the block and then parked at the curb, the same place you’d parked the hearse the day of your first interview with Bob Newby.

The Main Vein you remembered had floor to ceiling windows in front that were covered in dark velvet blackout curtains during the day, but this space had a red brick front with two small windows painted black and a red door. The windows each had neon signs in them: one for Pabst Blue Ribbon, and one for the synthetic vampire blood called NuBlood.

The black door opened to a space the size of a generous closet facing another door. There was a gumball machine, a stack of local newspapers, and a guy on a stool reading what appeared to be a paperback romance novel. One of those bodice ripping ones with the dramatic covers. He had one foot planted on the ground, while the booted heel of the other hooked onto a rung on the stool.

His honey brown hair looked like it had been styled with a blow dryer, and he wore a pair of sunglasses pushed up to his forehead, even though he had no use for them since it was fairly dark in that nook.

He glanced up bored at first, but then straightened when he saw you.

“It’s you,” Steve beamed, folding the corner of a page in his book to save his spot. “I didn’t think you were on the clock today?”

Your mind froze. So, Steve was your coworker in this new timeline? You tried not to let your brain short-circuit over this new information.

At least you could be comforted by the fact that you still had employment.

“Wait, what is your job again?” You asked, looking around the space between the two doors.

He gave you a side-eye as if you were fucking with him. “I’ve been the bouncer for a few weeks now. Argyle got me the job, remember?”

“Oh right, oh sure,” you nodded wildly a few times.

“Are you feeling okay?” His look was one of genuine concern.

“I’m good, I promise.” You offered a flat smile that did not reach your eyes. “But is it okay if I ask you another potentially really stupid question?”

“Shoot.” He crossed his booted feet at the ankles in front of him, leaning back.

“Did we…did we ever…” you bit the inside of your cheek. “Did we ever…go on a date? To see a movie?”

Steve scratched his stubbled chin. “Well I wouldn’t call it a date-date, but I was a third wheel with you and Erica that night Robin bailed on me.”

“And you’re still…also a werewolf, right?” Now the absurd questions were just flying out.

He tilted his head, and his eyes glowed red for a second as an answer. “Last I checked.”

“Okay, good.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Maybe not?” You shrugged. “But I’ll be okay. Is Bob here?”

“Think so,” he was about to say more, but just as your hand was on the door to go in, the outside door began to open, and he hopped up. “Hold on, there,” he told the person outside, pulling the door shut again. “Only one door can open at a time.”

“Now you can go,” he nodded, gesturing for you to enter. You didn’t confirm it, but figured that it was a safety measure to keep sunlight off of the vampires that were possibly inside.

Inside Vein on Main looked like a casino with various shades of burgundy and neon red. No natural light, but the mirrored bar was backlit, and there were stained glass lamp shades hanging down over the dark booths to your right. A synth-wave techno beat thumped from unseen speakers as curls of smoke from the end of cigarettes gathered into a gray cloud. At the far back was a pool table and a stage in the corner on a riser with a bunch of musical equipment set up.

You saw Erica behind the bar, and were about to go over to say hello to her, but a cold hand clamped down on your shoulder.

“Just the one I wanted to see,” Jareth’s voice rumbled in your ear.

He was the last one you expected to bump into in a human/vampire crossover bar. He’d always been much too above such things. His blonde hair was slicked back, his blue eyes burning with intensity.

“How did you get in here in the middle of the day?”

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically. Older vampires like Jareth didn’t need to sleep as much as the younger ones, so he had more time to get up to mischief.

“No but really,” you looked him up and down, noting that he was still in the standard, fashionable Jareth attire, and then glanced around to the handful of other patrons. “What are you doing here?”

He glared at you skeptically. “Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my bar.”

“What about Sacrament?”

“It’s still there,” he crossed his arms over his chest, curious about this odd line of questioning but, he decided to indulge you. “There’s an underground tunnel that connects the two.”

The new information was all very…disorientating, to say the least. You felt like your head was spinning, like you might possibly throw up or something.

“And Bob? What did you do with him?” There was a hint of frustrated anger in your tone.

“Bob and Maxine run the place. I am more of what you would call…a silent partner.” He pushed into your space, towering over you as if he might lower his head for a kiss. “But you know this already, don’t you, Dove?”

You turned away, snatching his elbow to pull him into a booth with you. He stood fast at first, not wanting to follow, but then slowly obliged.

“Listen, this will probably sound crazy,” you started.

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” He laced his fingers together on the polished wood table top.

A long exhale and then you laced your fingers on the table. “Have you ever heard of anyone, um, jumping timelines?”

He sat back, expressionless. “Are you saying that’s what happened to you?”

“Maybe, yes, yeah,” you paused to wonder if you should tell him “I’m pretty sure know that is what happened to me, but I didn’t think it was possible.”

You told him about the past 48 hours, and about the letter you received from some unknown person.

He gave it some thought, spreading his hands out flat to tap his thumbs on the table.

“I’ve heard stories,” he appraised you with his chin tilted down. “But I’ve never met a Jumper in person.”

“Well, nice to meet you.”

“I always knew there was something about you,” he smirked. “I knew you weren’t exactly human, but could never put my finger on it.”

“Congratulations.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jareth gave a micro shrug. “If somehow you stepped into a nearby timeline, I wouldn’t know how to put you back.”

“I can’t believe how calm you are about this.”

The last time you saw Jareth, he was at your trailer park ripping Brenner and the rest to shreds with the help of a swarm of other vampires. You wanted to thank him, but then realized that was from another timeline he might not remember.

Jareth continued. “Maybe you were pulled into this timeline for a reason. Maybe you weren’t meant to understand.”

You nodded absently, looking around at the new Vein on Main, feeling like you should wake up at any moment.

“You said the letter you received was dated a year from now? Ever think you might’ve written it to yourself?”

Head spinning, might definitely puke.

“Maybe something worse happens in that other timeline and you jumped over to this one to avoid disaster.”

What if something bad happened to Eddie in that other timeline…

You couldn’t get over how chill about the whole mess Jareth was being. Maybe all of the things he’d experienced in the 3,000 some years he’d been a vampire made it so nothing surprised him.

“One thing I have heard about Jumpers…” he waited to finish until a group of giggling humans walked by. “...they eventually forget about the old timeline. Somehow they assimilate to the current one and sync up with the memories. It’s likely that one day, this one will be your new normal, and the other one will feel like a dream you had.”

You weren’t sure if that should comfort you or make you cry.

“Did I at least make a move on you in that other timeline?” Jareth wet his lips while he stared at you.

“Absolutely not,” you responded with a slight roll of your eyes. “Never going to happen in this one, either.”

“Never say never,” his grin was evil in the most charming way.

All you wanted to do at that point was go back to your trailer to sit on the floor and wait for Eddie to wake up.

After a stop at the grocery store and gas station, that was exactly what you did.

—-------

The daylight seemed to last forever. You reread the mysterious letter countless times, let Bela out for a few hours of flying, watched two episodes of Outer Limits with Dio curled up in your lap purring, and paced around the house, glancing at the horizon every so often.

When the sun finally settled into a deep purple sea, you were kneeling at the front of the door when you heard the inside lock jiggle.

“You’re here,” you exhaled a long-held breath, grinning so wide it felt like your cheeks might break while you braced the door open. You also took that opportunity to snap a photo of him with your Polaroid camera, one of him with an expression caught between amusement and surprise. It would end up being one of your most cherished photos of him.

“You sound surprised,” he chuckled.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes with the knuckle of one hand as he made his way up the steps with a yawn.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile that big before,” he remarked groggily.

“I had this weird feeling you’d…disappear or something.”

“Nah,” he came up the final step and then crawled on top of you, making you go flat on the ground with a laugh, dropping the door down with a bang as you went. “You’re stuck with me now, I’m afraid.”

You held his face with both hands, enjoying the weight of his body, the soft moaning and playful flicks of his tongue on yours.

He lifted up to trace your mouth and chin with his finger. “Did you have a good day while I was asleep?”

“I really missed you.”

You tried to kiss him again, but he pulled further away, giving himself a double chin. “Does that mean you like me?”

“I’m still deciding,” your eyes were full of stars as you searched his face.

His hips rolled against you, giving away that his length was already hard, straining against his denim. You reached down to feel him, popping open two of the buttons on his jeans while you were down there.

“Yeah?” He whispered, hooking two fingers inside the leg of your loose shorts to graze your panty line. “You want this?”

“I want you,” his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, cradling his hand behind your head.

When he finally sank in with a moan, you grabbed onto his ass with both hands, urging him closer.

“I love those noises you make,” he mumbled, twitching inside of you.

Your shirt was pushed up, and you’d probably have rugburns on your back later, but right then you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be was as close to him as physically possible.

Eddie shivered when he was seated fully inside, practically purring at the way your nails scratched up his back.

“Bite me,” you gasped, offering the throbbing artery in your throat to him.

He paused, breathless, sliding his nose along your ear. “I don’t want to take too much. Last night was—-”

“Please.” You flexed and rippled around his cock, making him whine. He’d cum in two seconds if you kept doing that. “Just a quickie.”

“Just a quickie, she said,” he hummed. “Sweetheart you have no idea how true that is going to be if you keep squeezing me like that.”

The euphoria that rolled though you when he fed from your vein, coupled with the quickening of his hips when he was close made your eyes roll back in your head. He slowed down, didn’t want to finish before you, but you clamped your legs around him.

He unlatched from your throat with a hiss, fangs stained and dripping. “The things you do to me, holy shit—-”

“Wait wait,” you pulled his face back up so that he would look at you.

He stilled with a frown. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just wanted…” you trailed off, heart wailing like a steam engine in your chest.

Still throbbing hard inside of you, he gave a hopeful smirk. “Did you want to tell me that you like me?”

“No.” You said softly, hearing his throat click when he swallowed. “But I think I might be in love with you.”

He froze, making sure he heard you correctly, thinking about maybe asking you to say it again just so he could hear it.

He rocked further inside, smashing his mouth onto yours in a way that made you whimper, taking your hand to interlace his fingers.

“Holy shit I love you,” he panted. “I’ve never felt this way before and I should’ve told you, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid that—-”

“Shhhh.”.

The next few hours brought more of the same, with Eddie never tiring and you craving him in a way that was animalistic. Against the wall, in the shower, on the countertop, and you were both finally able to say the words that had been bubbling up in your chest for a while.

Eddie tucked you in when you fell asleep, and then went over to his place to change clothes and call Gary to see if there was any work available at the chop shop.

For some reason, it didn’t occur to either of you to talk about why everything was different, or why his trailer wasn’t a charred wreck. He’d been shot the night before with silver bullets and almost died, but it never got brought up in conversation again.

You’d fully intended to show him the letter, to tell him about the conversation you’d had with Jareth, but then somehow it simply slipped your mind.

Bela came swooping in the next morning, yapping away like she had a story to tell, and you wished you could speak her language. You remembered the night you rescued her, on your way back from the Upside Down with Eddie.

Why had you gone to Sacrament that night? A date maybe? No, Eddie needed to talk with Jareth, that’s what it was. You were just tagging along.

While you were pondering that night, you had this sudden lightheaded feeling, stumbling over your feet before you thankfully caught yourself on the kitchen island. Making your way down the hallway to the bathroom, you felt like you were on a funhouse floor that was shifting, so you leaned into the wall to catch your bearings.

Splashing water on your face would have to do. You ran the water as cold as possible, and when you saw your reflection in the mirror, you had one of those moments when you didn’t recognize your own face.

Surely, it happens to everyone from time to time, but have your eyes always been two different colors? One was an icy blue, and the other was light green, almost hazel. As if your eyeballs belonged to two completely different people.

The scars, they were familiar. Down your chest, along your jaw, at your shoulders, at your knees and down to your right foot.

After a few deep breaths, your legs no longer felt like jello.

You found a strange typed letter in your bag, but it didn’t make any sense, so you figured it was garbage and threw it away.

—---------

Hopper roused up from a nap shirtless, still wearing his work trousers, to the smell of brown sugar baked salmon coming from the kitchen, and he sat up with a smile on his face. Scratching his head, he changed into something more comfortable; a navy tee with a front pocket and jeans.

“Smells good,” he called from the bathroom where he used a boar bristle brush on his hair and put a little cologne on. He paused to appreciate the way there were two toothbrushes in the ceramic holder by the sink.

He couldn’t believe this was his life, didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.

He had to part a heavy floor to ceiling curtain to get to the other part of the house. It was hours from sunset, but still there was not a drop of natural light to be seen. He’d renovated half of the trailer to be daylight safe for vampires–one vampire in particular— including covering the windows with metal sheeting that could be lifted at night, if they desired.

“I hope I didn’t leave it in for too long,” Joyce fussed with the rooster print potholders, bending over to get the dish out of the oven.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he followed her over to set the dish on the table and kissed the top of her head just before she finished what she was doing to wrap her arms around him.

“What about you?” He tipped her chin up to gaze lovingly at her face. “Hungry?”

They had a case of NuBlood Type B for when she was in a pinch, but he preferred for her to have the real thing, he didn’t much care for the idea of her sustaining on that synthetic crap. So, he took his iron supplements and stayed healthy, and became her main source of food. She was never greedy, she always knew just how much to take.

But that night, he had a surprise for her.

“One moment,” she watched with adoring eyes as he opened a cupboard above the stove that was much too high for her to reach. He pulled down what looked like a bottle full of corked red wine and presented it to her with a proud grin.

“Ordered it from that vampire mixology show you like,” he let her take it so she could read the label, her mouth set in an O of fascinated awe.

“Plasma donated by a meditation guru who only ate tangerines for a week. They say it’s some tasty shit.”

“Hopper,” she clutched the bottle with the yellow label to her chest and tilted her head to beam up at him. “You didn’t have to do that, it must’ve cost a fortune.”

He stared at her, unable to gauge her reaction. “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it!” She gushed, snuggling into his embrace again. “Nothing could ever taste better than my man, though.”

He rested his chin on her head, grinning like a fool. “One day I’ll kick the nicotine habit and it will taste even better.”

“Well, don’t do it for me, you’ve gotta quit for yourself.” She scooted away to take a bean salad out of the fridge.

She always got up early to start her day so that they could have a meal together before she left for her job as a night time stocker at the local grocery store. Hopper would wake up before sunrise to be able to spend time with her before she went underground to the safe cubby he’d built. More and more, he considered becoming a vampire himself, just to be able to spend more time with her, but that would be a talk for another day.

The table was set with a bouquet of wild, pink poppies, and then a plate with silverware for him, and a glass for her. She’d been sad to give up real food for those first couple months when she was first turned, but by then, almost a decade later, she was amazed at how much she didn’t crave it.

“I had the darndest dream just now,” he cracked open a cold Schlitz and it fizzed.

“Oh yeah? What about?”

He almost didn’t want to say it out loud.

“It was a nightmare really. You were dating Bob.”

Joyce burst out in a bubble of a laugh. “Bob Newby? Of all people. I do like Bob, though, he’s a nice man.”

“You like him more than me?” He teased, frowning.

“Hopper, please.”

He took a sip of beer. “I was addicted to V in the dream. Lonely, and hated my life.”

“Addicted to V, huh? That’s a tough one.” Joyce searched his face with sincere concern.

Vampire blood, or V, was sold illegally to recreational users, and it was highly addicting.

He leaned forward, sliding his big hand up her arm. “I’m addicted to you.”

Before they kissed she hummed, “you’re insatiable,” and then took another sip of her imported treat.

After the sunset, they sat out on the porch for a while, looking up at the stars. Joyce nestled between Hopper’s legs with her back against his stomach in one of the lounge chairs, fingers intertwined at her middle. They talked about the kids, how Joyce’s son Will, who was also a vampire, would be joining them for dinner/breakfast on Sunday, and Jonathan would be bringing his girlfriend home to visit for the holidays. Hopper’s daughter Sarah was on a backpacking trip across Europe, and their fridge was covered in postcards from her travels. She called Hopper collect from Greece that day and told him she’d found a job there and planned to stay a bit longer. He said he was happy for her, but it made his heart hurt to know he wouldn’t see her again until next year.

“I’m pretty happy with this little life of ours,” Joyce said softly.

Hopper planted his lips on the top of her head. “There’s no other timeline I’d want to be in.”

—-----

Eddie rolled up to the chop shop in the white porsche he’d lifted from the parking garage of a fancy restaurant in town. He tipped the valets well, and they never gave him the keys, but were fine with turning their backs so that he could do his work.

From the dark alleyway, metal sparks were flying in the open garage door, and the sound of an electric drill buzzed away from the several other employees working the night shift. Gary handed him an envelope full of cash for the car, and the first thing that came to Eddie’s mind was buying you that rare Kurt Vonnegut copy you’d had your eye on at Robin’s bookstore.

He made his way through the busy work area to the back entrance where he’d parked the GTO. It was still primer gray and needed a lot of interior work, but he liked working on it with Wayne, it was a way for them to bond.

The moon was not yet full. Maybe a few more days and it would be. He stopped to stare up at it for a few beats, wondering if you were battling insomnia again and possibly looking up at it too.

It was late winter, so the sun wasn’t up for a while, and he had plenty of time to get you an iced coffee and have it waiting in the fridge for when you woke up. He used the spare key tied around his neck when he got to your trailer and tip-toed in, trying not to rustle the knob so he didn’t wake you up.

But you were there on the couch next to Bela watching television. Bela stuck her whole face into the bowl of dry cereal before her and came up with colorful Fruity Pebbles stuck to her lips while she munched, making growing sounds.

“How long have you been up?” He took his leather jacket and battle vest off to hook them on the back of the door, revealing a Warlock shirt with the collar ripped out.

“Dad’s on the news again,” you said without answering his question, without taking your eyes off the TV. “He called last night to tell me about it, but I almost slept in and forgot.”

He sat down on the other side of Bela and stretched his hand along the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.

Your father, the brilliant surgeon turned funeral director turned “mad scientist” in the media, was doing a tour as a guest speaker for several well-known universities. A lot of people were fascinated by his brilliance, and his research on reanimating dead tissue, but some thought his work was an abomination.

You were still his best kept secret. He worked hard to keep the details of your life and your whereabouts hidden, but eventually you wondered if someone would find you. You were the only human proof that his methods worked, but bringing your story to light would only put you at risk. You no longer went by your birth name and everyone called you Dove. He referenced you in public as his niece, and no one seemed to be asking any questions, at least not that you were aware of.

“He’s wearing that tie we picked out for him,” Eddie noted proudly.

When Bela finished her cereal and flew off to her perch near the window, you scooted into the nook made by Eddie’s open arm, smooching him before resting your head on his shoulder. He had his knees spread wide, taking your hand the second it was close enough.

“I missed you tonight,” he mumbled into the side of your head.

“I work at the bar until late tomorrow.” You snuggled closer, putting our leg over his. “You could pick me up and we could go steal cars together. I’d like to watch you work.”

It’d been a month since the first time you were intimate, and diving into a relationship felt like second nature. You’d talked to Bob about letting you have more night shifts instead of working during the day, and he was enthusiastically understanding, clapping his hands together to rub them back and forth conspiratorially. “I smell a romance blossoming.”

Eddie came in one time for a drink at the bar and Argyle said, “dude, it’s weird to see you not all grumpy and sulking.” And then Eddie caught your eye from across the room and gave you a little wiggle of his fingers, unable to wipe the permanent smile off of his face.

For the first time you really felt like you’d found a home somewhere. But also, there were things happening that were truly…odd.

In the sock draw in your bedroom, you found a few polaroids you didn’t remember taking.

One was of a hearse that was the same make/model as yours, but it was solid black instead of black with white pinstriping. Another was of what looked like Vein on Main, with Bob waving at you from the doorway. The neon in the floor to ceiling window said Main Vein. Had it been remodeled before you came to work there? But if so, how had you been the one to snap the photo?

You also found a key on your keyring that did not look familiar. It was smaller than the rest with blunt, jagged teeth.

You showed it to Eddie, thinking it might be to open a glove box or something car related.

He brought it up close for examination, going cross-eyed. “It almost looks like one of those gas cap keys, but your hearse isn’t that old. To a secret diary, maybe?”

“I never write in a diary. You know that.”

“Well,” he sniffed. “Let me put my Columbo hat on and crack this case.”

You could see his mind racing as he took it around the trailer, trying it in any lock he could find, including the front door knob, which was silly, but he had to rule it out.

“Babe, what are you doing down there?” You asked when you walked into the bedroom to find him on his stomach, fishing around under the bed with a flashlight.

“Just ticking all the boxes, my love,” he responded with a grunt. He crawled in more so that you could only see him from the waist down. His butt looked so cute wiggling there, you wanted to pinch it.

“Ah ha!” He exhaled triumphantly, dragging something with him as he scooted back out. “I knew I saw a box under here when I was looking for Dio the other day. By the way, you should really vacuum under there. I think I saw a dust bunny with teeth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled, arms folded, waiting to see what he caught from the depths of the shadows.

“There,” he jerked a square gray case out by the handle, settling on his knees to wipe his bangs away from his eyes. “The one thing we haven’t checked.”

There were no markings on it, but you saw the tiny silver key hole lock right away, lowering yourself to the carpeted floor next to him. Hard shell case with worn corners as if it had seen quite a few travels. There was a texture to it, and if you closed your eyes, it felt like snakeskin.

“Do you know what’s in it?” His gaze flicked to your profile. “It weighs a ton.”

You turned your head from side to side. “I’ve never seen that case in my life,” and that realization prickled your flesh. “But maybe it was left here by the last tennant?”

“Why would you have the key, though?”

You turned to stare at each other, unsure of what else to say.

“Try it,” he offered you the key, clearing his throat.

“I’d rather you did it.”

“Certainly,” but he said in a voice that mimicked Curly from the Three Stooges.

The key fit, and when he twisted it, the latch clicked, and you held your breath.

“Drumroll,” Eddie flipped the latch up.

“Please just open it.”

He pushed the lid back and the metal hinges creaked.

Jaws unhinged, you both stared at the smoke gray Royal typewriter for a few beats, cocking your heads to the side in tandem.

“A vintage typewriter.” Eddie stated the obvious.

“My mom used to have one like that,” you whispered it under your breath, not even meaning to say it out loud.

“So it is yours?” he waited.

“Um,” you ran the tips of your fingers along the edge. “It must be.”

But, surely you would have remembered lugging that thing around. In your mind's eye, you could see your index finger doing chicken pecks over the keys, but yet couldn’t recall anything you’d written.

“Do you have any paper?” Eddie got to his feet. “We could try it out.”

“In the bottom drawer over there, I think,” pointing to the desk against the wall with three drawers down one side.

He carried the heavy piece of equipment out into the kitchen island to test it, rolling the paper in manually and clicking the typebar until it dinged into place.

Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg is what he typed.

“There’s a letter missing,” he noted, taking a better look at the metal teeth inside.

“It’s the N,” you said before he could. It was almost as if you knew which letter it would be with your eyes closed. It was stuck, jammed in place.

“I think I know a guy who could fix that,” your boyfriend said softly, wanting to be helpful. “Wonder if some WD-40 would do the trick.”

After Eddie left for an interview at the body shop of a popular vampire car dealership, you stared up at the fan on the ceiling of your bedroom, unable to sleep. Bela was on one of her nocturnal adventures, Dio was back on her window perch at Eddie’s place, and you vibrated there in the loud silence. The night sounds were more menacing, the flap of the loose shingle on the roof suddenly sounded like someone walking around up there.

You were just starting to fade when you heard the click clack of the typewriter keys.

clickityclackclackclickityclack…Whack…DING

Adrenaline surged through your body and your eyes shot open, freezing there while invisible spiders swarmed your flesh.

But then, everything went quiet. A full, creeping silence that made your ears ring.

You held your breath and an owl hooted out in the woods. What if you’d dozed off more than you realized and the sound was part of a dream?

Your gaze shifted slowly to land on the entrance to the hallway, waiting to hear creaking footsteps followed by a figure standing there. Maybe a tall creature with long arms and clawed hands and red eyes that glowed in the dark. After several minutes of nothing, you pulled yourself together, recognized your own strength, and kicked your feet out of bed.

Hands balled into fists, skin buzzing, you padded softly to the mouth of the hallway, keeping to the shadows, out of view of anyone who happened to be standing in the kitchen. Maybe some elves and faeries came to fix the stuck N key.

ClickclickClackclackclick

Slower that time, but someone was definitely out there messing with your shit.

You rolled your back flat against the wall, hiding, thinking of a weapon you could use. The ballpoint pen in the bedside drawer was the only thing you could come up with, and you brandished it like a knife at your ear with the point out.

“Eddie is that you?” Voice wavering, you hovered just beyond the door frame.

The silence only thickened.

You felt that surge of electricity crackle along your muscles and your breathing deepened.

Who needs a pen when you can shoot lightning bolts out of your fingers?

After a sharp intake of breath, you closed the distance between the bedroom and the hallway lightswitch, flicking it on.

You’d been prepared for the worst, possibly some hulking monster with vampire fangs and blood dripping off its claws. Something like your boyfriend but darker, older. Hungrier.

But you were alone in the trailer.

Your heart pumped ice cold blood through your veins as you made sure to check behind the kitchen island.

Nothing. No one.

You lifted your hands up in front of your face to find that there were snaps of electricity idling there, building power in case you needed it. Your eyes darted to each of the windows, thinking one was open or shattered, but everything appeared to be just how you left it before bed.

“Hello?” One more time for good measure. “Eddie, I hope you aren’t fucking with me.”

Still nothing, and you knew in your heart that he wouldn’t fuck with you like that. Tease you and be a brat in other ways, sure, but he’d never make you think there was the threat of an intruder, not after everything.

The closer you inched into the room, the more it became clear that there was writing on the piece of paper rolled into the feed of the typewriter.

Right underneath Eddie’s Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg was:

Hello Dove

I k ow you ca ’t wrap your head arou d this right ow

But Eddie is i da ger

Nostrils flaring as you read it, you spun around, expecting to find someone standing right behind you.

Nothing. No one.

But then

The keys were moving again, depressed by invisible fingers.

The two of you are o lo ger safe i Hawki s

A memory clicked in your head about the Remington rifle with the M84 scope hidden in the wall in your closet that was loaded with silver bullets. Brass knuckles, hunting knives, and plastic flexi cuffs, among others. You had an arsenal of things for capture and killing.

O ce you have read this you must bur it

A d the replace the paper and await further instructio s

Slowly, you tugged the single piece of paper out of the feeder in one swipe and only hesitated for a moment before aggressively crumpling it up into a ball.

You picked up the yellow lighter near the phone and lit the edge on fire before tossing it into the ceramic sink and watched it turn to charcoal ash.

You’d killed before. Many times. Humans and monsters alike.

…but why did you feel like you were just now realizing that fact?

And now someone was after Eddie.

You fed a fresh sheet of paper in, but after an hour, no new words appeared.

You had no idea how it worked, but wondered if maybe it could function as a two-way conversation.

Your palms were sweating as you poised your fingers over the keys.

“Who are you?” You typed, each letter falling like a brick, almost afraid to know the answer.

Clickclickclick the keys snapped as soon as you finished.

I am you

…….

a other versio of you

but also we are the same

……

When Eddie got home, you’d been watching from the window and leapt into his arms before he could step all the way through the door.

“Fuck, finally,” you said in a slightly whiny tone, unable to help yourself. You’d been sitting there bouncing your knee and letting your anxious thoughts run wild. You’d called the garage, but Gary had no idea where he went and you really wished Eddie would get a beeper.

He returned the embrace, grinning sappily into the side of your neck. “Good to know you didn’t get another boyfriend while I was at work.”

You wouldn’t let him go, it felt too good to be able to touch him, to know he was okay.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, pushing you far enough away so that he could see your face and the water at your lash line. His cold, dead heart ached at the sight. “What’s this all about? Did something happen?”

You let him take his leather off, and then you told him about the Twilight Zone typewriter.

Paper fed into the rubber roller, you both sat staring at it in silence and prickling anticipation. Eddie fed Bela saltine crackers and she ate them messily, snorting every so often as she sucked them down.

“What if we talk to it first,” Eddie suggested, knowing that you had succeeded at that earlier.

“I have so many questions, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

He sat forward on the sofa, his hands in the shape of claws, hovering over the letters. “May I?”

You wet your lips nervously and scooted closer to him. “Sure, be my guest.”

He blew a long breath out of tight lips before wetting them again, eyes darting over the machine.

…..

This is Eddie. Is there a other versio of me there? I’d like to ask him some questio s.

…..

He pulled his hands back as if in a form of surrender, staring at the blank white space.

Nothing happened for what seemed like an hour but was really only 2 minutes and then—-

Eddie is ’t here

……

Your heart rate spiked, and you were about to speak, but then the ghost typing continued.

You eed to fi d Jareth

…..

Eddie is in da ger

You shouted at the piece of machinery then. “Why is Eddie in danger? From who? Enough with the cryptic shit.”

Eddie took the liberty of typing a few words in for you and waited, gnawing at the inside of his cheek..

Another 30 seconds that felt like a million

The Fellowship of the Su

Eddie fell back stiffly on the couch at that, staring blankly at the words.

“What is that last word? Sun? What the hell is the Fellowship of the Sun?”

Even as you asked, you could tell by the look on his face that it was bad.

“They’re a group of religious extremists who think vampires are an abomination and don’t support the new laws that give us rights and let us be a part of society. They don’t think we should exist at all, actually.” He took a deep breath. “They’re pretty dangerous babe.”

“Well I’m pretty dangerous too,” you mumbled, cracking your neck. You ran your hands up and down your face a few times exhaling a ragged groan.

“Wasn’t Jesus a vampire?” You mused more to yourself, but Eddie was quick to shrug and agree that he always thought so.

Your fingers hit heavy as you punched out the words.

Tell me what I eed to do.

For a moment there, you felt utterly foolish and out of body. Talking to some other secret version of you about vampire stealing Jesus freaks on a broken typewriter, of all things? But you had to focus, you didn’t have the luxury of doubting whoever was at the other end of the words.

Other You considered switching you to another timeline again, but too much of that could mess irrevocably with a person’s head. This was the only timeline when your dad lived to be an elderly man, the only timeline when Hopper and Joyce could find their happiness, and those things mattered to you. Both Other You and Current You.

It was also one of the only timelines that you knew of where they eventually discovered a cure for vampirism. That meant Eddie could have the choice to live out a mortal life with you, if he wanted that. A family and daywalking together would all be an option again.

eed to fi d Jareth

Other You repeated, and then: He will k ow what to do

You asked a few more questions over the next hour but did not receive any further communication. Eddie sank back on the couch while you remained hunched forward and he rubbed comforting circles on your back with the palm of his hand.

After staring at one spot on the paper for another few seconds, you settled back against him with a huff, curling one leg over his and wrapping an arm around his chest while your head nestled at his shoulder.

“Do you think we should leave Hawkins?” Your words were the first ones spoken. “Just hit the road and get as far away as we can? Dye our hair, change our names, I don’t care.”

“If you go, I go,” he mumbled into your temple. “But I think the You on the other side of the typewriter has a point. Jareth could hide us in the Upside Down for a while. The fellowship would have a hard time getting to us there. They’re petrified of that place.”

You closed your eyes. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

He grabbed the crook of your knee to pull your leg closer. “Because they hate vampires, baby. They want us all to go Back in the Coffin, as they say.”

“If you go, I go,” you twisted closer, nuzzling the side of his throat.

“Speaking of going,” he groaned, not wanting to face reality. “I need to get underground. The sun will be up in like, ten minutes.”

Ugh, you hated being apart from him for such a long period during the day, especially now that he might be a target. But at least you could put the couch over the door in the floor and always know he was safe as long as you or Bela were around.

He took a few sips of plasma from your wrist while your mouth was on his cock. It was a risk so close to sunrise, but you rolled your tongue around his shaft and flicked it at the tip in a way that had him shivering and moaning your name while you swallowed his cum after only a few minutes.

Breathless, he threw his head back. “Holy shit jesus christ I fucking love you.”

You hopped to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Okay now we need to get you to bed. Quick quick.”

“That’s okay,” he sighed, unmoving. “I’ll just perish right here.”

“Not on my watch,” you giggled, yanking him up while he fumbled to put his dick back into his jeans.

When he was at the bottom of the hidey hole, you got on your knees at the entrance and held the door, preparing to close it. “I’m not going to work today, so I’ll be here. Shout if you need me.”

“I will,” his eyes seemed to sparkle while he stared up at you, admiring. “I fucking love you.”

“Ditto,” the word put a catch in your throat. Why did it feel like you were saying goodbye to him?

When the darkness finally took him and he sank back to where the mattress was, you shut the carpeted door and then put your hand on it, as if you could still feel his cool flesh through it.

Standing with a weary breath, you moved the couch and thought about the phone calls you needed to make. Hopper, Argyle, and the rest of the vampires and their allies that you were friends with. If Eddie was in danger, perhaps they all were.

You had to call Vein on Main to find out where Jareth was, and they patched you through to Sacrament.

When he picked up on the second ring, he said hello to you before you even said who was calling. Caller ID perhaps? You didn’t have time to wonder.

“I need your help. I think Eddie might be in danger,” you spoke quickly, bursting with urgency.

At the other end, Jareth was as calm as ever. “And this should concern me, why?”

“Does the Fellowship of the Sun ring a bell?”

You could hear the ancient vampire go ridgid. His voice changed, lowering to almost a whisper. “How do you know about them?”

“It’s a long story,” to say the least. “Someone told me I could trust you with this. That you could help us.”

He was so quiet, you wondered if he’d disconnected, but then it sounded like he walked into another room and closed the door. You could no longer hear the rapid techno beat of club music in the background.

“What if getting rid of Eddie was all part of my plan?” He smirked into the phone. “Then I could have you all to myself.”

“Please, Jareth. We don’t have time for this.”

He cleared his throat. “I did hear that the Fellowship were closing in on Hawkins, but they are no match for—”

“I don’t think we should underestimate them,” you said softly. “Could we meet up later tonight? After sunset? There is something I need to discuss with you, but not over the phone.”

You wondered if you should tell him about the magical typewriter and the version of you from a parallel life.

What if there was a chance he already knew about it?

“Come after your shift, around 3,” he said. “I’ll ask Maxine not to hassle you at the door, but no promises.”

After the phone call, you turned on the news to see the female President of the Vampire Coalition arguing with a man who was a pastor from the Fellowship of the Sun.

“You vermin don’t belong here in our streets indoctrinating our children with your bloodlust and fornicaiton!” The balding pastor barked. “And we’re going to shine god's light on you and send you back to the hell you came from.”

Sophie Ann Bledsoe, the president of the coalition, had sea blue eyes, a brunette bob of hair, and muted wine lips. She looked like a soccer mom, not a member of the dangerous undead.

“If you’d give me a chance to speak,” she said calmly, watching Pastor Daniels grow red in the face. “I will assure you that we are peaceful, productive members of society—-”

“I won’t listen to this devil!” The pastor turned away, toward the camera, and then a moderator intervened with a few diplomatic words before the broadcast went to a commercial.

You could see rage in that pastor’s eyes: he wanted to wipe vampires off the planet.

But then, the television screen flickered to static and back again.

You swore you saw an image, nothing but an outline, but familiar all the same.

Had there been a voice? Someone whispering your name over the political news broadcast?

You waited, but the flicker never happened again.

Before you bent to click off the set, your head did a slow turn to glance over your shoulder at the typewriter squatting like doom on the coffee table.

Maybe it wasn’t doom, maybe it was hope, and you considered that while the winter sun broke through the trees, blanketed by clouds.

The next place your eyes landed was the hatch in the floor that had yet to be covered up by the wagon wheel sofa. You had a few things to get done that day, but when the sun finally set, you knew you’d be kneeling there, waiting for Eddie to take your hand and be your partner in crime for the evening.

There was something like a memory itching at your brain, but a distant one that belonged to someone else, like an echo in a dark hallway.

A memory of you and Eddie in your trailer, but it was a dark, royal blue, raining with strange particles that looked like snow but danced on the air like fluff from a dandelion. The trees and the grass were dead, and the sky was void of stars, like a bleak landscape painted from a nightmare. The ground split open in places like jagged knife wounds that never healed; they reminded you of your scars.

The Upside Down.

Bela was perched on your shoulder in the vision, and Eddie had a rifle strapped to his back. You needed food and supplies, but you didn’t want him to go alone. The three of you had survived this long, and so together you would stay. You knew the typewriter was hidden safely under the floorboards and you’d come back for it later.

Eddie reached for your hand in the vision and you gave it, mirroring the look of adoration on his face. The two of you were very much in love, but around you there was a sense of horror in the air, edged with a feral determination to survive.

Survive what, exactly?

But then you blinked and the sensory experience was gone.

There was the heavy thud of Bela landing on the roof above you, followed by fumbled rustling and a tiny growl of sorts that made you smile.

You let her in and went over to make some tea, warmed by a sudden calm that everything would be okay and no harm would come to the people you loved.

You’d make sure of it.

#Death Becomes Us #DBU #Eddie Munson #vampire!Eddie #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson x reader #True Blood au

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unordinary-diary · 5 months ago

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Thinking about how Blyke is actually insanely strong, even by the standards of his world, yet he gets his ass kicked for the entire story.

From episode one...

To the first actual fight he’s ever been in... (ch. 15) [Edit: second actual fight]

... to the approximate middle of the story... (ch. 197)

... Up through the very latest chapter as of me writing this— (ch. 345)

— Blyke repeatedly gets pummeled.

Over,

and over,

and over.

It’s really no wonder he gets insecure about it.

I mean, these screenshots were all taken from different fights. The amount of fights he’s won, on screen, without backup is... once or twice against Zeke, once against Gou (Agwin’s Jack from turf wars), and once as a vigilante solo act. That’s four, max. There could be more that I’ve forgotten, but I’ve read this series so many times and I really can’t think of any. (No, I don’t count firing a warning shots to get people to behave as “winning a fight”.)

compared to all the fights he’s been outmatched in? You’ve got Rein from turf wars, Volcan, John, John, John, Lennon from his vigilante solo stunt, John again, the fight in the Rowden amusement park, the attack on Rowden hill, Ember, and now the authorities in general. Possibly more that I forgot. That’s 11. He didn’t necessarily lose all those fights, but they’re fights where he was way out of his depth and/or would’ve lost without backup.

Anyway, point is: Blyke is no stranger to getting his ass kicked. In particular, he is no stranger to getting kicked while he’s already down.

In fact, I’m gonna take an example from the turf wars match in chapter 15: Blyke has already lost the fight with Rein, yet Arlo hangs him out to dry. Arlo is the one who’s supposed to call him back to get healed, yet he just smiles while the others look at him expectantly, and Blyke gets more and more injured. Even Rein is questioning it.

I could and honestly probably will do a whole analysis on just chapter 15, but eventually Seraphina calls him back for healing. The way Blyke was treated in that scene was kinda heartbreaking.

GOD chapter 15 is my favorite episode but it leaves me with so many questions grrr I wanna talk about it but that’s another entry.

Putting that aside, Blyke is very protective, and compassionate to the plight of others when he’s aware of it. After he sees the situation in Branish, he is immediately, rightfully pissed about the way society is. It opens his eyes to a world he hasn’t experienced, and it reframes how he thinks of John (still a “cripple” at the time).

To the actual point of this diary entry (other than rambling about Blyke, that is), John is another character who gets repeatedly kicked while he’s down. I don’t think I need screenshots to prove that. However, in my current reread of the series, I recently came across a certain panel that I do wish I had a screenshot of. It’s either Blyke or Seraphina who asks John “Why are you always kicking people while they’re down?” And John responds: “Because everyone kicked me when I was down!” And I think that’s a vivid contrast with Blyke, who has been kicked while he’s down, and chooses to protect people who are weaker than him. In particular, I want to point out that in order to protect them, Blyke is willing and actively chooses to get beaten quite brutally.

Mind you, this ^ is to protect people who he barely knows. He and Sera aren’t close, and the others are practically strangers.

It’s pretty much the inverse reaction. John says “Others kicked me while I was down, so I’ll do the same on everyone else tenfold.” Blyke says “I was kicked while I was down, and goddammit I will keep getting kicked if it means other people don’t have to.”

It’s such a cool parallel, and the fact that when John was getting kicked, Blyke was trying to help, but when Blyke was getting kicked, John was doing the kicking adds so many layers to it.

#unordinary #blyke unordinary #unordinary blyke #analysis #Blyke is such a good person UGH I love him #Best UnOrdinary character fr fr #This post was mainly just to ramble about him #legitimately I did not know where this was going when I started typing #That’s why it takes so long to get to the point and doesn’t have a title

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coralinnii · 2 years ago

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Villainess au Side story: the villain in my heart feat: Vil genre: fluff, suggestive(?)

Note: follows the villain/ess series Vil ver. but can be read independently, no pronouns were used, villain/ess!reader is a simp (as I am), roughly 1.1k word count

I say I mostly just do SFW but why did this one feel a little uhhh… I genuinely had to pause a couple of times cuz I had to stop getting thirsty

“S-Sir Vil, you really needn’t do this”

“Hush now and keep still”

Since your recovery, you finally went back to your duties as part of the Schoenheit family, which includes healing the family’s image after your “incident”. You planned to accept invitations from other families to prove your return to health and you were happy to see that your dear friend Neige has sent an invitation to you like he usually do. But this time will be different.

“I will be accompanying you” Vil adamantly announced which surprised you knowing his absolute disdain for the young ravenette noble.

“You really don’t need to, Sir Vil. I’ve been to the LeBlanche manor before-”

“I’m going”

Honestly, Vil can’t tell if you’re too nonchalant about this or just plain oblivious to the situation. How can you believe that someone of such a high status such as yourself would not be subject to more scandalous rumors should you visit a man’s house alone, no matter how kind and innocent he may be. There is also a more selfish reason as the idea that his partner would choose to visit his rival so casually did not sit well with him, not that he will ever tell you.

Which is why you were fidgeting as Vil was seated close to you, carefully tying a detailed knot on your tie before he plans to pin a brooch that was from an expensive set, with your husband wearing its matching pair. Vil’s long fingers would occasionally brush against your neck as he soothes your collar leaving goosebumps from his touch which you were sure he could see with how close he was.

Was heaven supposed to be this hard to breathe?

“S-Sir Vil, I don’t want to rush you but we’ll be late” you barely spoke through your nerves but Vil kept on with the task he personally took on.

“Beauty is not to be rushed, I have taught you that” Vil replied, his eyes inspecting the brooch placed upon you before raising to lock his eyes on yours “Speaking of which, I need to teach you out of that bad habit of yours”

You felt cold sweat as you mentally combed through your recent memories for what the handsome man may have been referring to. Did Vil find out that you’ve been secretly asking for more desserts after dinner when he leaves? Or that you've skipped your beauty routine two days in a row in favor of napping longer? Perhaps he knows about the letters you’ve been exchanging with Rook to gush about Vil that’s been taking away your scheduled beauty sleep.

Vil watched the internal crisis in your head leak into your expression which leaves him to have an exasperated look on his own face. “I can’t imagine what must be going on in that mind right now but it’s probably incorrect. I’m talking about your manner of speaking”

Vil continued to surprise you today as you weren't expecting that comment. You supposed you spoke more casually with Rook and Neige (primarily as they’re your fan club buddies) but you were sure you kept your dignity with the nobles as to not disgrace the Schoenheit name.

“To be specific, I’m not satisfied with the way you address me” Vil clarified your confusion. “I’m not some noble but your husband. As such, calling me by a title such as Sir reflects badly on our relationship.”

“So, you’re telling me t-to-“

“Call me by my name” Vil cut to the chase. “I would rather you’d call me by a more affectionate name but this would suffice for now”

Vil’s nonchalance over the matter does not extend to you as your mind is processing what the man just requested from you like it wasn’t the most stressful order he has ever made to you. Being able to call the man you’ve idolized before and after you reincarnated so casually is akin to being given the chance to hold the most beautiful diamond in the world, a great but heavy honor to be bestowed upon.

Vil was silently waiting for you so you had no choice but to give your best attempt, which resulted in a soft utterance of his name with your eyes looking away. Your body burned in embarrassment as you feverishly ask your heart to calm down.

However, Vil was not merciful as he narrowed his lavender eyes in dissatisfaction. In a swift moment, he gripped your chin between his fingers in order to force your gaze to meet his.

“It’s rude to speak while looking away, I've taught you better” Vil sternly said but his finger lightly stroked your chin as though he was enticing you rather than reprimanding. “Try again, louder and clearer this time”

But you couldn't. Your mind was racing as you felt overwhelmed by the beautiful man before you. Loose strands of his soft locks fell from his braid and tickled your burning cheeks as his touch flooded your senses. You might just perish right then, a quick but happy end of your second life.

But Vil thought differently. He was typically a patient man but there was a subtle burn in his heart that called for his attention. A new desire he realized has been building the more he spends his days with you. It builds with every giddy smile you send his way, with every time he sees the sparkle in your eyes as you tell him about your day, with every waft of your perfume that he recommended you and has been wearing every day. This time, he craves for more than fleeting gazes and quick exchange of smiles. He commands you,

“Say my name”

“V-Vil!” You startled yourself as you immediately responded. Your voice obeyed without a second thought and that quick reply left you flustered over the secret glee you’re experiencing. It felt like opening Pandora’s box. Now that you have crossed the threshold so to speak, you suddenly crave to say it again and again with a smile on your face. Is this normal, you wonder?

Vil on the other hand, felt an odd wave of satisfaction hearing his name leave your lips without that pesky title. That subtle act of intimacy has momentarily sated that itch in his heart.

“That’s a good start. Well done” Vil praised your efforts as he slowly released his grip, sneakily brushing his fingers across your cheek to indulge in the heat of your cheeks. He pondered on this new teasing side of him that seems to appear around you but he’s not too worried about it, especially when you don’t seem to hate it.

A smirk graced his lips as Vil finally stood up from his seat, before making his way to the door. He paused and turned his head, unsurprised by your immobile figure and mind still processing the events mere seconds ago. His voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your daze.

“Let’s go. As you said, we’ll be late”

#this one got to me in a way #I need to step back #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst scenarios #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #villainess au

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twost3ps · 6 months ago

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Hazbin Oc voiceclaims LETS GOO

Ok so I've been brewing a bit and have been kinda busy. I got one last exam coming up and then I'm FREEEEE but I wanted to push something simple out so I decided to do voice claims because that is somehow easy (not)

These are partially for the scott pilgrim au, it makes it a bit more immersive to me

Anywayyysss: Heres the video of the voices (it's 4.5 min I'm so sorry)

and if ur interested: let me break down whyyy :3 + small oc blip (I still don't really know how to chracterize them it's all over the place) they go in order of appearance

Micheal: Johnathan Groff

Micheal is pretty closed off and cold. His answers are cold and short, and he doesn't like wasting time. Working 24/7 is his way of ignoring everything bad that has ever happened to him, until recently. He's trying to go back to his roots and have some fun. B4, in Eden he was basically a fun loving party guy who liked to bend the rules, but since his brother's betrayal, he grew angry and to snuff it out he just worked super hard. Super straight laced. But after a while he's trying to be silly again, people find it weird though because it's just been so long.

Initially, I wanted something deep- like deep deep. And while true, Micheal could have a fitting deep voice-

I think Groff just fits really well. He hits all my boxes.

His voice is rich and smooth but has a bit of dorkiness to it?? (Kristoff) The closest thing I can go into describing my Micheal is, again, an ex frat boy that caught depression when things got too real but now is recovering and healing. Idk Groff's voice just gave the vibe. His voice is kinda similar to Jordan's (Lucifur's va) imo, especially when they sing. Of cousre they're not gonna sound identical, but its like Emily and Charlie, it's just similar when they sing. Also Groff can pull off a rocker voice (the Bohemian Rapsody clip) and I need that. I want that rocker Micheal FEAFSEF

In general though, Groff has been my #1 option. Not just for my Micheal, but like, a lot of Micheals I've seen. I look at them and all I can hear is Groff soooo. Yeah. I also think that if Micheal were to be part of the actual series and be Lucifur's twin he'd be the kinda guy they're looking for. But yeah, hes always been #1 choice

Gabriel: Chris Fleming/Jshlatt

Gabriel balances out Micheal's colder demeanor. He's loud and a bit obnoxious about. But overall, this man is a goober. He's a man that can't keep a secret and keeps it real, a bit too real this man is way too honest. Won't shut up once you get him going especially when he's excited. It's bad when he peaks at one emotion because he goes all out. Overtime he's gotten better but still out af.

I wanted Gabriel to have some sort of gruffness. Some edge. Gabriel's thing is spreading the word of God and all but I can't think of him having a smooth voice. (I mean he yells all the time, how can he not???) I wanted something expressive, loud and gruff. A voice that you know does not stfu and does not hold back.

Fleming came to mind when I head him from bigtop burger (love that series) his voice is fun, low and gruff. Jshlatt was recommended by one of my friends when I showed them Gabriel. I was pretty unfamiliar with him b4 and when they showed me him my jaw dropped. His voice is what I kinda want it to be, just a bit higher. And the singing voice fits really well too :)

Raphael: James Earl Jones/Thurl Ravenscroft/Nat King Cole

Raphael is supposed to be this chill soft guy you can go to for comfort. He's like a marshmallow of a man and can be very empathetic. But underneath all that is a unit of a man who could throw you thousands of yards away.

I wanted something rich, deep and smooth. I had to ask my friend again with this one and we got Mufasa (James Earl Jones) Fits really well! So yes, smooth and soft, but an underlying tone of powerful. I also wanted his to have just a lot of bass to it. Something you could sleep to. Why Nat King Cole for the last option? I genuinely have no clue but it fit to me so I slapped it on this bad boy.

Azreal/Dumah: Steve Blum

Ok. Both of them are idiots. My version of them anyways. They fight a lot. I mean when you are suck together it’s bound to happen (They share one body but only one can take full control at one time- mostly Azreal because Dumah hates people. I’ll just show you guys one day. They can separate but only when they are given permission. Big fussy babies). They finish each other’s sentences a lot when talking. Azreal is the goofier brother who likes making jokes and Dumah is the more serious one. When retrieving souls Azreal is the one who takes it while Dumah judges. Dumah hates when people joke while on the job (he hates Azreal for this this) but he hates it even more when they go against God's word. Azreal could give less of a crap, he just finds reaping super fun.

Blum fit for me after watching Puppycat seeing his role as space outlaw. It shows his ability to be goofy but his other roles consist of also very serious characters which fits Dumah and Azreal pretty well. Blum has this crazy rasp about thing going on (is that what it is?) it makes him stand out which fits for the angels that deal with the dead. Makes you very awake imo. Idk there’s just something about it. While Azreal and Dumah share the same voice, Azreal is higher than Dumah’s. What I mean by that is (when looking at the audio clip from the video) when Blum’s voice is generally higher, that’s Azreal. When it’s pitches lower that’s Dumah. Dumah in general doesn’t speak much unlike Azreal- they’re what comes to mind when people think of introvert and extrovert lol

Sadly I couldn't find a sining voice for him :(

Eve: Lisa Hannigan

To me, Eve holds a lot of motherly energy. She's soft and kind, but she actually holds similar feelings to Adam about sinners. Don't get me wrong, she feels bad for their eternal punishment, but in the end, it's on them. Like, if she was presented with the hotel, she'd comply but try to take over it becoming this overbearing presence that would put you in your place without lifing a finger if you didn't fird her standard. If she'd hear one complain shed be like, "i know it sucks but really, you did this to yourself." But besides that, to everyone else, she's kind. In heaven, she's recluse, only really going to Adam for anything. Her punishment on earth did something to her, and unlike Adam, she does not like seeking comfort from others. Shes subtle about it, but you can easily tell by the vibes she gives off - they are STRONG (Idk about this over all this may change)

I feel like this is kinda a given. Then again it could be just me. I wanted Eve to have this soft motherly vibe. Like her voice is just barely above a whisper sometimes, but is still kinda deep. Blue diamond came to mind like immediately. There were other options like Esmeralda’s VA, especially the one from the musical, but I wanted to give Eve this sense of solemn, sort of driftyness and chill. Ngl her character really resonates with blue diamond so it kinda just fell into place. It’s in contrast to Adam’s sharper and more gruff voice, where he can hit more highs, she hits more lows.

Eve is literally Adam’s other half (and while in my au they aren’t in love anymore or maybe they were never in love at all idk, they were definitely soulmates who loved each other dearly)

Again, notes on the floor and everywhere. They thoughts are always super scatterbrained

But yeah that’s pretty much it! If you guys have any recommendations or suggestions yourself feel free to tell me I am welcome to anything!!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel michael #hazbin hotel raphael #hazbin hotel gabriel #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel azrael #hazbin hotel dumah #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel ocs #voice claim #pls be kind im so bad at making ocs :')#i will get to that scott pilgrim au tho trust

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vinelark · 1 year ago

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ALL timkon recs I BEG

hello hi! here are some of my favs! it got long so putting some under the cut

💄 Lipstick on the glass by @cairoscene read for timkon being soft and goofy and disgustingly in love, set in vague future college-y years with amazing core four dynamics too. cair is one of the funniest people to ever exist and we are so blessed that they decided to write some timkon. (also read for my own greatest contribution to literature, the fictional “jerry the void nexus” meme)

🎢 been a number and a name by @wynterstars i had SO MUCH FUN reading this one, a 90s comics-divergent AU where robin and superboy become friends—and crushes—when superboy is pretty new on the scene. feat. lex luthor being terrible, tim staging a rescue operation that at one point involves platform shoes and a blonde wig, spice girls references, and fantastic action sequences. it’s also a series, with an installment focusing on kon & clark, and a currently updating longfic sequel with SO MANY timkon identity shenanigans (my beloved) and kon feelings (also my beloved).

📸 the surveillance series by @smilebackwards i feel like i rec this all the time but it’s because it’s THAT GOOD. a tim-centric AU where tim joins the family late, but is still involved in bat business without the bats realizing. there’s some fun timkon identity shenanigans at the top, and some of my all-time favorite tim characterization (ruthless! lonely! brilliant!) plus a great tim & bruce arc, too.

🦉 Detours by miyaji_08 this is part 2 of a series and i def recommend reading the whole thing! a reverse robins + joker jr au that has lots of trauma and lots of healing, and in part 2 there’s timkon identity shenanigans that’s simultaneously enemies to lovers + And They Were Roommates. tim sure does run a gauntlet of horrors in this series, but it has so much healing and also one of my fav reverse robins concepts i’ve read so far.

📱 unfurl by @burins tim and kon might be dating, and there’s no kryptonian sex ed handy. bruce, being bruce, makes it his business, which means talking to clark and Realizing some things about his own feelings. superbat are billed first here, but i think timkon steal the show—i laughed out loud like five different times reading this. hilarious and sweet on all sides. (and if you like this, check out their timkon road trip fic!)

🌾 A Saturday Evening by malcyon in which tim visits the kent farm for family dinner with kon, feat. very sweet established relationship timkon and fun superfamily dynamics, and it touches on tim’s past grief over kon’s death (and complicated feelings post-undeath).

🤼‍♂️ Sore Loser by @hearteyeshayley kon learns that tim always let him win while sparring, and has to process that. this was such a fun exploration of tim’s prowess as a fighter—one who regularly has to go up against superpowered friends and foes alike—and also tim as a person who is always doing mental calculations about the people around him (in an endearing way). kon, too, got his time to shine and grow, and the ending was so smart and sweet.

🔮 Ascension by Violet_Witch an AU longfic where tim is a witchling and kon is a fallen angel who has (oops) just lost his wings. tim sets out to help get kon’s wings back, and there’s a ticking clock because angel wings are dangerous in the wrong hands—and tim has a big, horrible secret that’s about to come due. the plot/worldbuilding of this was WILDLY cool, and there was a big ol misunderstanding in the middle that had me clawing my face off (in a good way).

🌌 straight on ’til morning by merils kon vs. the terrifying ordeal of growing up, feat. sweet friends-to-lovers timkon and really thoughtful exploration of some of kon’s canon past relationships and their abusive dynamics. i haven’t finished this one yet but it’s been rec’d multiple times and i’m excited to dive back in (and it's recently complete!)—and what i have read so far gave me an amazing sequence of kon and dick interacting and dick’s big brother mode activating in an instant, which is something i now desperately need more of.

📧 aaaand would it even be a reclist by me if i didn’t include send to all by @cairoscene the absolute moment i find myself feeling down i go reread this and boom. i am instantly laughing again. timkon are just one part of a bat grab-bag here but they are so so funny and cute and in-character. maybe one day i’ll compile the timkon-centric sequel that exists in my head but for now i’ll just go reread this for the zillionth time.

okay yeah!! i’m probably missing so many good fics here because i constantly have like a zillion tabs open that i plan to read someday. also i reserve the right to reblog later like OH I FORGOT— but in the meanwhile, happy timkon reading!

#timkon #fic rec #asks

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genshinluvr · 2 years ago

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A Star from Another Universe

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Idol!Reader

Summary: What if Alice found you when you first arrived in Teyvat? Alice nursed you back to health, and you stayed with her until you healed. One day, Alice goes up to you while you're babysitting Klee and asks you what your thoughts are on becoming an idol.

Note: I have been having so many random AUs recently that I need to get it out of my head. This is Idol!reader AU for the ongoing Isekai'd!reader one-shot series! :> This entire story is what I have had on my mind for a while, and I honestly don't mind making a "small" headcanon on what kind of fans the men are. Since there are almost thirty people in the harem. Anyway! I hope all Al Haitham wanters are Al Haitham havers! :> I was able to get him on my NA account and my Asia account ^^ Keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 8.7k

The day you appeared mysteriously in Teyvat, a woman took you under her wing to nurse you back to your healthy state. The woman went by the name Alice; she was a sweet woman who mothered you as if you were her own child. Alice is not only charming, but there’s something about her that makes her feel so powerful, almost intimidating.

You’re not from Teyvat or their universe; you’re an outlander, but you’re not like the two blonde outlander twins searching for their kin. You’re an outlander whose existence does not belong in their universe; you just mysteriously appeared in their world without an explanation. Not even Alice can figure out what brought you to Teyvat.

A few weeks after the injuries you sustained from being thrown into Teyvat had healed, Alice approaches you one day while you’re outside playing with Klee. Today is the second time you’re tasked to babysit Klee while Alice is out and about tending to her business; you nearly got bombed with the fishes in the lake. It was not fun, but Klee made it up to you by giving you a small dodoco plush similar to the one hanging off her backpack.

“[Y/N], sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Alice asks, walking up to you while Klee is chasing a crystal fly five feet away from you two.

You give Alice a smile and wave at the woman. “I’m doing great! The concoction you have given me for my injuries has helped me greatly. I really appreciate it, Alice,” you said sincerely.

Alice pulls you into her arms and rubs your back. “That’s great to hear, sweetheart,” Alice coos.

You hug Alice back, and the two of you pull away from the hug. You hear Klee scream with joy; you turn to look, only to see Klee jumping up and down in the air while cheering that she finally caught a crystal fly. Klee looks over at you and Alice; her eyes light up before making her way toward you and Alice.

“Look what I got!” Klee squeals, holding her hand out to show you and her mother the anemo crystal fly in the palm of her hands. “Isn’t it pretty?” Klee asks in awe.

Her eyes fill with wonder as she watches the crystal fly flutter out of her hands. Klee pouts and turns around, running off to catch another crystal fly. You look at Alice and notice her looking at you from head to toe, her chin propped up on her fist, head tilting to the side.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Alice?” You ask, laughing nervously.

Alice purses her lips and squints at you. “What do you think about becoming an idol?” Alice asks.

Your eyes widen. “An idol?! Like, singing and dancing in front of a large audience?” You squeak.

Alice nods. “That is correct! What do you think about being an idol? I think you have the potential to be a worldwide idol,” Alice says.

She turns you around, continuing to look at you from head to toe. You have no idea how it’s going to work out. You being an idol while you’re from another universe? Would the fans and critics even care about your origins and background? There’s no way you can be an idol in Teyvat— no way at all.

After that day and the conversation between you and Alice, you find yourself sitting on a chair backstage. You look at your reflection in the mirror while the stylists are getting you ready for your performance. It’s been a year since the conversation between you and Alice, and now you’re an idol.

It’s strange and sudden; it feels like a blur, and everything around you has changed so much and so fast that you end up getting whiplash from it all. You lean back in your seat and close your eyes, letting the makeup artist apply sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids, putting small gemstones at the corner of your eyes. Alice insisted you become an idol so you can thrive in Teyvat. When she told you that, you knew she was telling you to get off your ass and get a job. You don’t mind getting a job in Teyvat, but getting a career as an idol? That is something you would never imagine yourself being.

“How much time do you guys need before [Y/N] goes up on stage to perform again?” The security asks, peeking into your dressing room.

“Give us five more minutes, and we’ll have [Y/N] out on stage soon,” Emilia, your makeup artist, says, dabbing a little bit of foundation on your face.

You didn’t expect much when you first started as an idol. You had low expectations for yourself because why would anyone be a fan of an idol that did not belong in their universe? Especially when you don’t know what region they’re from; many have speculated that you’re from one of the seven nations in Teyvat, but all continued to be speculations and have never been confirmed nor denied.

Your existence and general background are shrouded in mystery. That’s what made you appealing to your audience; your fans. Despite being a charming and appealing idol, you’re still mysterious, and that’s what the fans love about you. You have a lot of fans, even more than you expected. You expected to have around fifteen fans, but you were wrong. Your popularity is booming, and it excites Alice (she is also your agent). She has booked you many interviews and TV shows (she also wants you to have a background in acting) and booked as many performances as possible to get your name out in Teyvat.

Within two months of your debut as an idol from another universe (that is what you’re known for), your face is all over magazines, billboards, posters, and advertisements and many people know your name and music. Who doesn’t know you and your music? Even adeptis and archons from seven nations know your existence and music— perhaps even Celestial gods know of your existence, but you don’t know that. You’re living the luscious life, showered in attention, Mora, precious gems, and expensive fabrics.

“I wonder if there are people that claim to be my biggest fan,” you mutter.

Emilia places her makeup brush down on the table and looks at you curiously. “I’m sure there are people that do! My niece says that she’s the biggest [Y/N] fan,” Emilia replies, smiling at you.

You crack your eyes open and look at Emilia with interest. “Is that so? Has she been to one of my concerts before?” You ask.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and stand up. You fix and adjust your stage outfit. Each set of your performance has specific clothing made for the set performance. One of your favorite outfits out of all the things you have worn to perform is usually the one that is saved for last. It’s silver and white; you have tinsels in your hair, and the gem in the corner of your eyes would sparkle each time you winked (not really, it was the lighting that made them glimmer).

Emilia nods her head, smiling widely. “She’s currently in the crowd with her mother and father. They’re really excited to watch you perform,” said Emilia.

“Well, I am excited to perform for your niece and her parents,” you said. “I’m ready for my performance now. I’ve been keeping them waiting for way too long,” you brush your hair over your shoulders and turn to Emilia.

Emilia nods her head and watches you leave the dressing room. You’re guided to the lower part of the stage behind the curtains. You’re instructed to stand in the center of the stage trapdoor and were handed the microphone. You can hear loud cheers, screams, and excited chatter from the audience. No matter how many times you have performed, you will always be nervous about how the performance is going to turn out.

“Good luck! You’re going to do great!” Alice squeezes your arms with an encouraging smile.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Alice,” you breathe.

Itto and Gorou shove their way through the crowd of roaring fans; Itto has a large sign in his hands while Gorou is holding onto glowsticks. Gorou mutters a soft “excuse me,” “pardon me,” as he and Itto weave through sweaty people. Once both Itto and Gorou have gotten to the front of the row, Itto sees how close they are to the stage. On the front row in front of the stage, aside from Itto and Gorou, were twenty-three other men standing in front of the stage barrier, waiting for the performance to start.

“[Y/N]’s number one fan? Psh! I doubt it,” Itto hears someone scoff.

Itto turns to the man beside him and sees a ginger-haired Snezhnayan man, also holding up a sign with your name plastered on it. Itto raises his eyebrows at the Snezhnayan man and looks over at the dark brown-haired man beside the ginger.

“Childe, please refrain yourself from starting fights at a concert,” Zhongli mutters, glaring over at the man beside him.

“Yeah, Childe. Why are you upset to see me, [Y/N]’s number one fan, coming out here to support them?” Itto asks, glaring at the ginger-haired male.

Gorou laughs nervously and taps Itto on the shoulders. “Itto, I don’t think we should be getting into fights either. Not only will that get us kicked out, but people around us can also get injured,” Gorou explains.

Childe laughs. “If you’re [Y/N]’s number one fan, then how come you weren’t in the first row throughout the entire performance? This is the first time I have seen you in the first row,” Childe raises his eyebrows at the oni.

Itto narrows his eyes at Childe and eyes Childe from head to toe. Childe has a bandana wrapped around his forehead with your name in the center. A sign in Childe’s grasp has the words, “❤❤ PLEASE MARRY ME [Y/N] ❤❤” written in capitalization in colorful markers. Hearts are scattered around on the white sign, glitter lining the borders of the sign, and your name is big and bold in gold. Itto lets out a scoff, a smirk appearing on his face.

“How desperate and pathetic,” Itto thinks to himself.

Itto turns to look at the stage, watching people prepare for the next performance. Diluc peeks from Kaeya’s shoulders and rolls his eyes when he sees Itto and Childe’s signs. It’s almost laughable in a way, but Diluc shouldn’t be the one to judge since he, himself, has a sign as well.

“Archons, how did we get stuck near those two idiots?” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes.

Kaeya snickers. “Relax, brother. They won’t start anything other than an argument. We’ve seen them argue on public forms before; it’s normal at this point,” Kaeya says.

“They also snuck their way into the first row. Apparently, Itto weaved his way through the crowd to get in front of the stage barrier,” Albedo says casually, looking at the stage designs and stage lights.

Venti taps Albedo on the shoulders. “Don’t you know [Y/N]’s agent? If so, can you get us all backstage passes to meet the [Y/N]?” Venti asks eagerly.

“I thought we’re already going to meet [Y/N]? Didn’t the front-row tickets get us the chance to have a meet-and-greet with [Y/N]?” Aether asks, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a sip of his water.

“Last time I checked, it says guaranteed. Therefore, we are going to meet [Y/N] backstage after the concert,” Dainsleif says, resting his arm on the steel stage barrier.

“Why after the concert? We’re all going to be smelling like each other’s body odor while sweating at the same time,” Scaramouche grumbles, glaring at the person that accidentally brushed up against him.

“To be honest, I would rather meet [Y/N] after the concert than before the concert because they’ll remember us when they go home,” Heizou says, shrugging his shoulders.

“But we’re going to be sweaty when we meet them,” Tighnari sighs in discontentment, scratching his ears with irritation.

“Hey, we’ll be meeting them after their performance. I’m pretty sure they’re going to be just as sweaty as we are, if not, maybe sweater than us because they’re the one that’s performing,” Thoma shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the steel barrier while waving the glowstick in the air subconsciously.

The lights in the stadium soon dim, causing everyone in the stadium to quiet down. Kazuha taps on Xiao’s shoulders, motioning for him to crack the glowstick for it to illuminate. Xiao searches around on his person for the glowstick, only to realize that he had dropped it somewhere while getting seated in the stadium.

“I seem to have lost it,” Xiao mutters, his eyebrows furrowing while his hands continue to roam around his body, searching for the glowstick.

Kazuha gives Xiao a sympathetic smile. “That’s okay, Xiao! I have a spare glowstick,” Kazuha says, handing Xiao the uncracked glowstick.

A faint smile appears on Xiao’s face as he takes the glowstick from Kazuha’s grasp, quietly thanking the samurai shyly. Xiao cracks the glowstick, and it immediately lights up. The sound of footsteps echos the quiet stadium, and the stage lights shine down on a white box. The crowd stares at the box with anticipation and sees your silhouette rising in the box.

Loud cheers and screams erupt from the audience, colorful stage lights come on, the box you’re in is suddenly knocked down, and you step out onto the stage.

“They’re even prettier in person,” Kaveh whispers to himself, covering his mouth as he watches you start the performance for over one hundred thousand attendees.

“They’re very mesmerizing,” Baizhu says in awe, not taking his eyes off of you.

Al Haitham watches you dance and sing on stage. The way the light shines down on you, trails after your movement, confetti flying in the air and raining down on you and the audience is a sight to see. Your face is on the big screen; you make eye contact with the kamera man and send a wink to the kamera, the gem at the corner of your eyes sparkling.

“Not only are their performances flawless and beautiful, but they are as well,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cyno chuckles beside Al Haitham. “That’s why they’re known as the world-class performer, Al Haitham,” Cyno replies.

With the music blaring, and the audience screaming for your attention each time you walk by them, the men doubt the others would be able to hear them voicing out their thoughts. Every time you walk by the front row close to the men, they would scream as loud as they can and wave their signs, trying to get your attention. Your eyes will sweep over the VIP section of the stadium, smiling and waving at the section. Your music is blasting in the background; you have earplugs in your ears; your stage outfit looks immaculate, and your hair and makeup are flawless as usual.

Wanting to grab your attention, Pantalone pulls out a generous-sized bag of Mora and tosses it on the stage. The bag of Mora lands beside your feet, lightly tapping your foot. You look down at the bag of Mora with wide eyes. You squat down, grab the bag and examine it with wide eyes of disbelief. You look up, searching around for the owner of the bag of Mora.

Pantalone waves his glowstick around, desperately trying to get your attention. You and Pantalone make eye contact; the minute your eyes meet, Pantalone feels his heart race against his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks to the point where his face feels hot under your gaze. You slowly stand and walk towards the section where he’s standing. Seeing you approach their section, the twenty-four other men start to crowd around Pantalone, resulting in him getting pinned against the steel stage barrier.

“Hey, stop pushing, you buffoon!” Dottore hisses, glaring at the men who are desperately trying to get your attention the closer you get to their section.

You walk down the step on the side of the stage with the help of security. You thank the guard and approach the men who are almost breaking through the stage barriers. You stop in front of them and hold the bag of Mora up for them to see.

“Who does this belong to?” You ask into the microphone.

You would ask them without the microphone, but with the screams and number of people hollering your name, reaching out to you to grab your attention (or to even touch you), it was hard to ask them personally.

“It belongs to me, but you can keep it,” Pantalone says, sending a wink in your direction with a charming smile on his face.

While the smile on Pantalone’s face looks like a charming smile, Pantalone is trying his best not to show the pain on his face. After all, he’s being pinned against a steel stage barrier by most of the VIP section. Maybe throwing a bag of Mora on stage to grab your attention wasn’t the best idea he had in mind.

“Keep it? I can’t simply keep someone’s bag of Mora!” You look at Pantalone with wide eyes.

“Hey, if Pantalone says you can keep it, keep it. He already has too many Mora,” Capitano says nonchalantly, smiling underneath his helmet.

You smile at them sheepishly and shake your head. “No, no, no, it’s fine, really!” You said.

You gesture for Pantalone to hold his hand out. Pantalone complies and holds his right hand out in front of him. You place the bag of Mora on his hand, grabbing his fingers and wrapping them around the bag of Mora.

“There!” You said, smiling up at Pantalone, who looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks bright red.

You slowly release Pantalone’s hands and smile at him. Pantalone gulps and nods shyly, pocketing his bag of Mora.

“Lucky bastard,” Pantalone hears Pierro mutters jokingly.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]! I love you so much!! Please marry me!” Childe screams at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

You hear someone angrily protest, pushing the ginger man away and shoving the sign in front of you. “Don’t listen to him, my love! I’m your biggest fan, and I am more worthy of your love than this idiot!” Itto screams.

“Please notice me, [Y/N]! I collect every single one of your albums!” Aether screams from behind Itto, trying to shove his way toward you.

“Ignore these idiots; I’m your biggest fan and your most loyal fan! These buffoons are nowhere near my level!” Scaramouche hollers, hovering above you and the men below him.

You crane your head up to look at Scaramouche, who smiles down at you and caresses your face in his hands. Out of spite, Xiao smacks Scaramouche’s hands away from your face with a scowl on his face. You chuckle at them and shake your head.

“I’m assuming you,” you gestured to the twenty-five men in front of you, “are the ones I’ll be meeting backstage after the concert?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at them.

The twenty-five men nod their heads, cheeks flustered. They can’t believe it! You’re talking to them! You know that they exist in your world! They’re breathing the same air as you are and are face-to-face with each other! As much as they wanted to keep their cool, seeing you, their biggest idol and celebrity crush, in person is a whole new experience.

You smile at them. “Well, I look forward to meeting all of you after the concert! The security guards will be guiding you all backstage for the meet and greet,” you said.

In a trance, the men nod their heads, watching you walk back up the stage. Fans are tossing stuffed animals and flowers on stage, trying to get your attention after seeing what Pantalone has done. You chuckle and shake your head, looking over in the men’s direction.

“Oh my gosh, they just looked at us,” Heizou gasps, shaking the person beside him while refusing to take his eyes off you.

“We’re the luckiest fans out of everyone in the stadium; it’s official,” Venti says, crossing his arms over his chest with a big smile on his face.

When the concert is coming to an end, you stand in the middle of the stage and sigh sadly. After this concert, you’re not sure when the next show will be. This performance was the final concert of the tour all over Teyvat, and you did not want the moment to end. You have been touring all over Teyvat to perform in seven different regions. The final concert is held at a huge stadium that is built specifically for your concert alone. That stadium is located on an island outside of Mondstadt and Liyue but a few minutes out of Inazuma.

Because the concert is the final show of the current tour, many people from all over Teyvat traveled to this island just to see you perform. Even if it’s for one night, people are willing to travel far to see you perform your last concert until your next tour, which hasn’t been in the talks yet. The only thing your fans know, so far, is that you’re going to be releasing a new album soon and that you’re going to be making appearances on many shows.

“I don’t want this concert to end,” you sigh sadly into the microphone, sitting in the center of the stage. “I don’t want the fun to end, nor do I want to see you all leave,” you frown.

Loud cries and whines echo throughout the stadium, the fans expressing the same emotions as you. They didn’t want the concert to end and didn’t want to see you go down in the stage trapdoor, leaving them for who knows how long.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” You reassure the audience with a small smile, “I’m releasing a new album soon. Will you all listen to the new songs when they’re released?”

The audience screams, making you laugh and slowly stand up. You stretch your arms and sigh, walking over to the wooden stool, picking up a towel, and wiping your sweat. You have been performing for almost two hours, and now it’s time for you to wrap up the concert. You have a fan meet to do after, and you want to freshen up a little bit before meeting your VIP fans.

You said your goodbye while standing on the stage trapdoor, waving to the fans as the platform below you descended. You’re ushered to the dressing room to freshen up for the meet and greet with the twenty-five VIP fans you have spoken to before the concert ends. Emilia fixes your makeup while Yue restyles your hair, making sure the flyaway hairs and your baby hairs are flat on your head and not all over the place.

“You’re phenomenal, as always,” Emilia says, lightly squeezing your shoulders.

You smile at Emilia. “Thank you, Emilia. What do your niece and her parents think of the concert?” You ask, closing your eyes and letting Emilia lightly brush your under-eye with powder.

“They enjoyed your concert as usual,” Emilia grins.

You smile and press your lips into a thin line, trying your best to remain still while Emilia fixes your makeup to make you look put together. The concert is successful, as always. You’re glad that nothing went haywire on the last show.

“Are you excited to meet your fans? I saw you interacting with them before the concert ended,” Yue murmurs, putting more tinsel in your hair and brushing your hair.

You chuckle and nod your head, cracking your eyes open to look at Yue and Emilia. “I’m pretty excited to meet them! It’s nice chatting with them towards the end of the concert, but with everything going on, it was hard to hear what they’re saying,” you reply.

“Too many people trying to interact with you at once, or was it something else?” Yue asks.

You hum and lean back in the chair, reaching for the hand fan to fan yourself. You purse your lips and think for a moment.

“Yes, that would be one of the reasons. They were all piling up against this black-haired man with glasses, practically squishing him against the stage barrier,” you chuckle. “I feel bad for that happening, and I’m hoping to interact with all of them without any of them getting hurt or squished by the other,” you add.

“I don’t know, [Y/N]. Your fanboys…. They have familiar faces,” Emilia chuckles, applying lip balm on your lips. “A few of them are Fatui Harbingers, and others are diplomats or archons! Overall, these men are important figures of some sort,” Emilia says, gazing at you with wide eyes.

“Important figures as [Y/N]’s biggest fanboys!? Wow! You’re truly amazing, [Y/N]!” Yue squeals, jumping behind you with glee. “Would you, perhaps, date any of them?” Yue teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you cheekily.

You feel your face heat up at Yue’s question. You? Dating a fan? Does she not realize how scandalous that is? You turn to Yue and lightly bat at her arm.

“Yue! Me dating a fan is scandalous! Do you know how upset people will be if I start dating a fan of mine?” You ask, looking at the Liyuen woman with wide eyes.

Yue pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, come on, [Y/N]! You can’t be single forever! Plus, there are not many famous male idols in Teyvat. You usually see women that are given this sort of attention compared to the men,” Yue says.

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, Yue. I don’t think about dating much because of how busy I am with my career as an idol. Not only that, but I don’t want my significant other to deal with hate and tabloids,” you sigh, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

Emilia pats your head. “That’s fair, but you can’t be single forever. Especially when you have attractive fanboys,” Emilia jokes, poking you in the ribs lightly.

“How can you see their faces clearly when colorful lights were strobing in the stadium?” You ask.

“We ran into your fanboys before the concert began. You weren’t at the stadium yet. You were on your way here, and these men were searching around for a restroom, and maybe they were hoping to run into you, but they ran into us instead,” Yue explains, snickering to herself.

You chuckle and shake your head. The more you think about the fanboys you interact with during the concert, the more you become intrigued with them. Not going to lie; you’re kind of nervous about meeting them backstage. While they admire you and the things you do, you hope that the interaction wouldn’t make them like you any less.

To put it into perspective, you’re not much of a social person, and having to interact with almost thirty people after a huge performance is a bit nerve-wracking. Ironic, right? You performed in front of thousands of people, and yet you find interacting with twenty-ish people personally is more intimidating than performing in front of thousands of people. Maybe it’s because of your past interaction with a celebrity, but you don’t want your fanboys to be disappointed to see that you’re not the perfect idol they see on billboards, posters, TV shows, album covers, and magazines.

“And we’re done!” You hear Emilia say.

You blink and realize that Emilia and Yue are finished helping you freshen up. You get up from your seat and stretch your arms in the air, groaning. After this meet and greet, you’re going straight to the showers, and you’re going to take a nap right after.

“So, do I just wait here while the security guards assist the VIP fans to the meet and greet room?” You ask, grabbing the water bottle from the vanity.

Yue shrugs her shoulders. “You’ve been in the dressing room for a while. I’m pretty sure your fanboys are already in the meet-and-greet room,” Yue says, packing up the tools and cleaning the station around her.

“Aw man, I hope I didn’t keep them waiting for too long,” you mutter.

You quickly bid the two women goodbyes before walking out of the dressing room. When you step out of the dressing room, you see Alice and a security guard waiting for you outside of the dressing room. You give the two a brief smile before letting them know that you’re ready to meet the VIP fans.

While you, Alice, and the security guards were on your way to the room where the meet and greet was being held, the room was filled with chatter. Very loud conversations from your twenty-five fanboys.

“Take that off. You look ridiculous!” Diluc sighs, shaking his head at Kaeya.

Kaeya snorts. “Oh, please, brother. You’re wearing the same shirt as I am. Although, white doesn’t suit you at all,” Kaeya says, looking down at the shirt Diluc is wearing.

“Who designed all of [Y/N] concert merchandise? I want to speak to them and give them some advice on how to properly design merchandise without making it look tacky,” Ayato says, holding your concert t-shirt up with a neutral expression.

Thoma clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest, covering the concert t-shirt he’s wearing with his arms. “I agree with you, my Lord. Although, I believe the person should be fired instead, and a new merchandise designer should be hired,” Thoma says, scratching the apples of his cheeks awkwardly.

Kaveh sighs dramatically. “As much as I love [Y/N] and their flawlessness, I believe that their only flaw is hiring the designer,” Kaveh laments, tossing the t-shirt back on the pile of shirts on the table.

“Yeah, of course, you do. You say that while having another t-shirt stuffed in your back pocket,” Al Haitham snorts.

Al Haitham reaches behind Kaveh, yanks the shirt from Kaveh’s pants pocket, and waves it in front of the blond man with an eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips quirking up with amusement. Kaveh gapes at Al Haitham and begins to stutter out excuses.

Tighnari pats Kaveh’s back with a smile. “It’s okay if you like the shirt, Kaveh. People have different tastes in clothing. You don’t have to follow the crowd in hating the design of the merchandise,” Tighnari says.

“Exactly. I don’t understand why people would follow along with what others think. If you like something, then you like it. Don’t pretend to dislike something only because a group of people doesn’t like what you do,” Cyno says, walking up to Kaveh, Tighnari, and Al Haitham while wearing your concert merchandise.

Baizhu lets out a chuckle and props his hands on his hips. “I see that you’re trying to show others that you’re [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” said Baizhu, looking at Cyno from head to toe.

“I disagree. I’m [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” Gorou says, walking over to the group with various concert merchandise in his hands.

Kazuha pokes Gorou’s back. “I think you should get a bag for [Y/N]’s concert merchandise. We wouldn’t want you to drop them on your way out,” said Kazuha.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Xiao mutters, leaning on the edge of the merchandise table to stretch his aching legs out.

Dainsleif hums. “They can take as long as they like. They did perform for almost two hours and have to tolerate everyone crowding the barrier to talk to them,” Dainsleif says nonchalantly.

“And by crowding the barrier, you mean crushing me against the steel stage barrier because [Y/N] looked in my direction and talked to me,” Pantalone huffs, rubbing his lower abdomen where the steel barrier dug into while the twenty-four other men crowded around him just to get your attention.

Albedo shrugs his shoulders. “You sort of did that to yourself, Pantalone,” Albedo says.

Dottore snickers behind his hands before nudging Pantalone with his elbow. “He’s not wrong there, Pantalone. You tried to find a way to get [Y/N]’s attention, and you were successful! However, every action has consequences,” Dottore smirks.

“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but it seems like [Y/N] is about to make an appearance very soon,” Zhongli speaks up.

Everyone turns to look at Zhongli quizzically. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before gesturing towards the entrance of the room. Everyone in the room falls silent; they can hear three pairs of footsteps approaching the room where the meet and greet is being held. Not only can they hear footsteps getting closer to the room, but the voices are getting louder the closer the footsteps get.

“They’re in this room, right?” The group of men hears you ask.

“Yes, the meet and greet are being held in this room!” They hear a woman say eagerly.

The door is opened by the security guard. The security guard makes eye contact with each man and nods his head before turning around to gesture for you to enter the room. The men in the room panic and begin to fix their clothes, making sure they look presentable. You walk into the room and smile at the men in front of you.

“Hello! It’s great to see you all again after the concert! Our interaction was cut short due to the concert and the concert coming to an end. I hope I’ll be able to talk with each of you without any interruptions,” you joyfully said, clasping your hands together in front of you.

Pierro smiles at you and bows at you, his right hand placed over his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Your performance is flawless and enchanting, as always. I’m honored to be able to watch you perform live,” Pierro says, straightening his posture.

You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ears. Your little gesture made the others subtly raise their eyebrows, jealousy beginning to simmer inside of them.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the concert! It makes me incredibly happy to know that people enjoy the performance!” You said, smiling at Pierro.

“You needn’t worry about what people think of your performance. You’re a world-class performer, a very respected idol, and a huge inspiration and role model for all,” Capitano says gruffly.

You cover both of your flushed cheeks with your hands. “Oh, stop! You’re making me blush!” You said, covering your face.

Archons, can you get any cuter? You’re so cute! The way you cover your cheeks with your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks, you try to keep your professional facade while treating them like an acquaintance. However, they wish it was more than a fan and idol interaction); you speak to them casually instead of the conversation being tense and awkward.

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you eaten anything yet?” Zhongli asks.

You shake your head. “Not yet! But I will be getting something to eat after the meet and greet! Although I’m not sure where I’ll be going,” you trailed off, pinching the fat of your chin with your lips puckered.

“You don’t have to worry about that, [Y/N]. Mister Zhongli over here is generous enough to send a food stall to your concert for you personally. As the creator and founder of the biggest [Y/N] Fanclub of all of Teyvat, Zhongli is the one that sends the gifts, food stalls, and does many things for you and the fans,” Childe says, patting the funeral consultant’s shoulders with a big smile on his face.

Aether looks at Zhongli with wide eyes and points at Zhongli with an accusing finger. “You’re Interstellar Idol!? The one that is at every single fan event that is hosted for [Y/N]!?” Aether exclaims in disbelief.

“He’s also the one that goes all out when it comes to [Y/N],” Heizou whispers, staring at the flustered ex-Archon with wide eyes.

Itto raises his hand in the air. “Hold up! I thought he was broke! Like, borrowing other people’s Mora and never paying them back kind of broke,” Itto says, fiddling with his thumbs while looking at Zhongli skeptically.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “He’s not broke, Itto. Zhongli just forgets to bring his wallet,” Al Haitham corrects Itto, crossing his arms over his chest.

“As if that’s any better,” Kaveh mutters under his breath.

You stare at Zhongli with your mouth agape before making your way to the flustered archon. You stand in front of Zhongli, pointing at him. “You’re running my biggest Fanclub, did you know that?” You whisper.

Zhongli clears his throat and nods his head shyly, cheeks pink, the tips of his ears just as pink as the apples of his cheeks. You’re very familiar with the Fanclub called Interstellar Idol; they’re your biggest fanbase of all Teyvat. How can you not know them? They’re at every milestone of yours and have been at your side since the beginning of your career as an idol. If it weren’t for the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol, you wouldn’t be as known as you are now.

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” You whisper shyly.

Zhongli looks at you with wide eyes before slowly nodding his head. A big smile appears on your face, and you hug Zhongli, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Thank you for being there with me every step of my career. I appreciate the support, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you and the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol,” you murmur, looking up at Zhongli.

“Hey! I want my hug, tooooo!” Venti whines, stomping his foot on the ground playfully.

You pull away from the hug and laugh. “Alright, I’ll give each of you a hug or a handshake. It’s your choice! Then if any of you want to take a picture, or want anything signed, let me know after!” You said.

“Just to let you know, Zhongli may be the creator and founder of your biggest Fanclub; all of us,” Thoma gestures to the other men in the room, including himself, “are also well-known [Y/N] fanboys,” Thoma says proudly.

You prop your hands on your hips. “Is that so?” You ask, looking at them curiously. “Care to tell me what each of you does as fans of mine? I’m quite curious,” You said, tilting your head to the side.

Diluc clears his throat loudly. “Let’s discuss this later,” Diluc interjects, looking away with red blossoming on his cheeks.

Kaeya leans toward you while pointing his thumb at Diluc. “Diluc collects your albums and posters. However, he doesn’t have as many as I do,” Kaeya snickers behind his hands.

Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya and grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him back. Kaeya looks over at Diluc with a smug smile on his face. Diluc’s face was almost as red as his hair after Kaeya exposed Diluc’s secret hobby to you, the biggest idol of Teyvat and their celebrity crush.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but Cyno writes fanfictions about you. His stories are very popular throughout Teyvat,” Tighnari whispers to you.

Cyno looks over at Tighnari, his eyes wide. “What did you say?” Cyno demands, stomping over to you and Tighnari.

“Oh, Cyno. There’s no shame in writing fanfictions! I used to write them myself as well,” you reassure General Mahamatra with a smile on your face.

Ayato looks at you with interest. “And who did you write about?” Ayato asks, raising an eyebrow at you in a teasing manner.

You gaped at Ayato and cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from the Kamisato heir. There’s no way you’re going to expose yourself even more when you have already revealed your “secret” to the men in front of you.

“As you said earlier, there’s no shame in writing fanfictions!” Baizhu sing-song, smiling at you innocently.

You pucker your lips and shake your head. “We’re not close enough for me to expose my secrets even more,” you joke.

Dottore slides his arm over your shoulders. “I’m sure by the end of the meet and greet; we’ll be closer than ever for you to tell us who you wrote fanfictions of,” Dottore chuckles, smiling down at you.

You squint your eyes at Dottore and look at the other men. “We’ll see about that,” you stroke your chin.

You walk over to Xiao, who’s quietly observing you with curiosity. Despite being a massive idol in Teyvat, you’re still humble, and you interact with your fans like ordinary people instead of putting up a wall between you and your fans. You’re grateful for all of the support you have been receiving since day one of your career as an idol, and you continue to be thankful for your fans, your manager, and everyone around you that made your career happen.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, pulling Xiao from his thoughts.

Xiao blinks at you and clears his throat, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink. “It’s nothing,” Xiao says.

You look at him curiously. “If it’s nothing, then how come you weren’t answering me when I called your name a couple of times?” You tease.

Xiao clears his throat, his face turning bright red. “You know my name?” Xiao asks, his eyes almost as wide as dinner plates.

“We told them your name,” said Gorou, giving Xiao a small smile.

Scaramouche sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t mind him. This is his first time going to your concert, and I think his mind is still trapped at the concert,” Scaramouche comments, a small smirk appearing on his face.

Kazuha shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, you can’t blame him for that. [Y/N]’s concerts are always mesmerizing and memorable,” Kazuha says, patting Xiao’s back.

Xiao hesitates for a moment, his face turning a darker shade of red. How is he going to talk to you when he can’t get the words out of his mouth? Xiao feels like he’s running out of time with you, and he wants to cherish every moment with you before having to deal with reality again. The reality of having to deal with his karmic debt, the reality of having to watch over Liyue, the reality of you being so far from him performing all over the world while he’s stuck in Liyue. Your music and your presence ease his mind and worries. Zhongli looks over at Xiao, a faint smile appearing on his face. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

“He’s a big fan of yours,” Zhongli says, placing his hand on Xiao’s shoulders.

Xiao’s face continues to grow hot; he nods and scratches the back of his neck shyly. You smile and press both of your hands over your heart.

“It makes me really happy to hear that you’re a fan of mine, Xiao! With every love and support I receive from my fans, I really do appreciate it. I appreciate each of you,” You said.

Alice walks up to you and stands beside you, locking gazes with Albedo. She smiles at him and nods to him. “Hello, Albedo! How are you doing, sweetheart? What do you think of [Y/N]’s concert?” Alice asks.

A small smile appears on Albedo’s face. “Hello, Alice. I’m doing well! I really enjoyed [Y/N]’s performance. Seeing them perform in person makes me realize why they earned the title ‘world-class performer,’” Albedo says.

Dainsleif nudges Albedo. “You know [Y/N]’s agent?” He mutters to the light blond-haired male.

Albedo nods his head. “You can say that she is a family member of mine. However, I see Klee, Alice’s daughter, as a little sister of mine. Alice insisted that I call her mother,” Albedo briefly explains.

Pantalone lets out a thoughtful hum. “Then that means you know [Y/N] before their career?” Pantalone asks.

“We’ve met a few times, but we barely spoke to each other because of how busy the chief alchemist is,” you answer. “It’s nice to see you again, Albedo. Thank you for coming to my concert. Your support means a lot to me,” you said.

Albedo gives you a shy smile and looks away, his face almost as red as Xiao’s face. You laugh to yourself before turning to the next person beside Albedo. Itto, who is wearing all of your concert merchandise with the sign in his hands and a bandana with your name on it wrapped around his forehead. When you make eye contact with Itto, Itto looks like he’s about to pass out right on the spot.

“I’m assuming you’re my biggest fan?” You ask.

Itto nods his head, gulping. “I love your music so much. I have posters of you all over my wall, I collect every album you have released, along with magazines you’re on the cover of, and I try to go as many fan meets as I can along with your concert,” Itto rambles.

Childe snorts and leans toward Zhongli. “Simp,” Childe mutters.

Zhongli rolls his eyes. “As if none of us are that as well,” Zhongli mutters to the ginger-haired Harbinger, nudging Childe.

“So, are you implying that Itto is a bigger [Y/N] fan than you?” Dainsleif asks, raising an eyebrow at Childe.

“Of course not! [Y/N] knows that I’m their biggest fan because I show up to every meet and greet they host throughout Teyvat! I also go to every single one of their concerts if I get the chance to go!” Childe huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Diluc rolls his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that,” Diluc snorts.

“If you’re confused, Diluc is implying that he’s a bigger fan of [Y/N] than you are,” Kaeya says, pointing his thumb over at Diluc.

Venti laughs and pops up between Kaeya and Diluc. “You may be a big fan of [Y/N], but do any of you make covers of their music? I don’t think so!” Venti huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Covering a song? What does that mean?” Ayato asks Thoma.

“Venti sings [Y/N]’s songs and posts them for people to see. I believe that Venti has a lot of views on each cover he has posted,” Thoma explains.

Venti props his hands on his hips with a proud smile on his face. Itto hands you a pen with shaky hands, asking you to sign the album he has brought with him. Itto would have you sign every album he has owned, but it would be too many, and Itto doesn’t think he can carry it all with him even if he makes Gorou assist him. You grab the pen from Itto’s grasp and begin signing the album. Your handwriting is elegant and legible; seeing you sign the album in front of his own eyes is a memory he will cherish forever. Speaking of cherishing memories, Itto quickly pulls his Kamera out from his bag and takes a quick picture of you signing the album.

“Itto! You just can’t take pictures of [Y/N] while they’re signing your album!” Gorou hisses, smacking Itto’s biceps.

“It’s okay! I don’t mind getting my pictures taken. After all, I am used to it,” you said, smiling at Gorou.

Gorou feels his face turn hot the minute you smile at him. Gorou covers the lower part of his face with his hand and looks away, his tail giving him away. You finish up signing Itto’s album and begin signing Itto’s sign that he brought to the concert. When he receives your signed album and his sign with your autograph on it, Itto squeals loudly and tackles you into a hug while blabbering about how much he loves you and how you make him so happy.

“Hey! Let’s not tackle [Y/N] into a bone-crushing hug now, Itto!” Baizhu says, laughing nervously as he tries to get Itto off of you.

Aether snorts. “Listen, Itto may have the abs, but he doesn’t have the biceps to crush [Y/N] and their bones,” Aether says, poking at Itto’s arms.

“I call dibs standing next to [Y/N] when we take group pictures!” Heizou announces, raising his hand in the air with a triumphant smile.

Kaveh lets out a loud scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t call dibs! It’s not fair for the rest of us!” Kaveh protests, glaring at Heizou.

“Yeah, Heizou. If you were to call dibs on standing beside [Y/N] in the pictures, it wouldn’t be fair for the rest of us,” Al Haitham says.

You chuckle and walk over to the center of the meet-and-greet room after Itto has released you from his hug. You watch the men debate on who should stand next to you (spoiler: all of them said themselves). In the end, you end up taking a bunch of group pictures because each man wanted to stand beside you in the picture, which you didn’t mind at all! They’re all hilarious and sweet about it, plus you didn’t really have anything else planned after the meet and greet other than get something to eat.

“I’m going to cherish this picture forever,” Tighnari says, staring at the film in his hands with a faint smile.

You feel your stomach growl; now that you think about it, Zhongli did say something about renting a food stall for you after the concert. Perhaps you can invite them to keep you company while you eat. Maybe they can get something to eat, too, since you’re unsure if they had anything to eat prior to the concert.

Before you can ask the men if they want to join you, you walk over to Alice and the security guard. You need Alice’s thoughts (and permission) first before inviting the men. Alice gives you a thumbs up, making you sigh in relief. You walk over to the men, who are still bickering over who should’ve been the first one to stand next to you in the group picture.

You tap on Cyno’s shoulders, grabbing the white-haired man’s attention.

“Do you guys want to join me at the food stall? I’m about to get something to eat, and I would like all of you to join me. If you’re hungry, you can get something to eat at the food stall, and if not, you can just hang out and chat with each other,” you said.

“I would love to!” Cyno says, smiling at you.

“We would love to keep you company,” Pierro says, nodding.

“I’m starting to feel famished, so why not?” said Scaramouche.

Kazuha holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we go and get something to eat at the food stall?” Kazuha asks.

You link your arms with his and nod. “We shall.”

“Hey! I want to lock arms with them too!” You hear Childe whine.

You hear Capitano scoff. “Quit your whining, and let’s get something to eat,” Capitano says, looking at Childe.

You all walk to the back entrance of the stadium venue. Outside is a long line of food stalls rented by Zhongli for you to eat after the performance. There was so much food to choose from, and you’re not sure where to start!

“Zhongli, you’re a godsend,” you said, walking to the nearest food stall with excitement.

“It’s funny because he’s actually the Geo arch— Oof!” Childe groans when Zhongli elbows him in the gut with a straight face.

“I believe we should get food now,” Zhongli states nonchalantly, shooting a look over in Childe’s direction.

Childe pouts and nods his head before trailing after Zhongli while the others go to grab food from the stalls to eat. Usually, this isn’t how your meet and greets end, but a little change is nice sometimes. Who knew your career would take off so fast and land you in this situation, surrounded by your fanboys while eating food in each other’s company?

Note: I have another AU coming out next week! I have no idea why I've been getting a lot of AU ideas, but I think the upcoming AU should be the last one for now. Other than AUs, I do have some ideas for mini-fics as well and I'm really hoping I can type them out and get them posted. I've been busy with school and my winter schedule has been keeping me out of my house for hours until early evening 😵‍💫 This next part is copied and pasted; For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! And as usual, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse, @sickly-falling, @alteeeeyang, @wind1y, @wh0-ta0, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @HistoryNerd™️, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols, and numbers are correct)

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staytheword · 2 years ago

Text

falling rain

falling rain — one shot [ back to general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• bang chan x female reader, other stray kids members are mentioned/featured, as well as other idols (itzy’s yeji, ateez’s san, nmixx's lily).

• non idol au, friends to lovers. angst, fluff, post breakup sadness and melancholia. drinking. explicit language. smut, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex.

• word count: 11k (11,199)

You fell out of love. It happens. All you need is time to piece yourself back together. But as you and your friends meet for a movie night, you don’t expect your ex to be there - yet he is, and it looks like he’s doing much better than you do. Luckily, your friends are there for you - especially Chan.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan

• story taglist: @tanyas97 ; @hyynee ; @moonlightcandy00 ; @drhsthl ; @flakeisthebest

• author’s note: Here it is! Thank you for your support on the preview, I am so glad you guys liked it and were excited for the full story. I hope you enjoy it! Take care <3

The rain is cold against your skin.

You look up at the sky through your transparent umbrella. Swirls of pale gray cover the horizon, blurred by drops of rain sliding down the plastic material. It was darker earlier - the rain will stop soon.

The bus stops in front of you, its brakes squeaking. You close your umbrella and get on, sitting where you usually do, at the back, next to the window. Placed between your legs, your umbrella is getting your jeans wet, but you don’t care. You close your eyes, letting the music in your ears soothe you. You’ve been taking the same bus route everyday for years, so you know exactly how much time you have before your stop. It’s not like you’re afraid of falling asleep, anyway. You never sleep in transportation, and it’s not like your mind has been able to rest easy recently.

Your playlist transports you through melancholic melodies, pianos and violins lulling your senses. Your favorite songs do not let you forget the ache - they remind you of it, softly, tenderly. That’s what you want, anyway.

You’re not interested in forgetting. You just want to heal.

When you open your eyes, your stop is a minute away. You press the button and get up, ignoring the inevitable looks of the other passengers on the bus. People are always staring. Always judging. Often, you care. These days, not so much. You can’t control them, what they do, what they think. They’ll see the shadows under your eyes, the pale skin, the chapped lips, and they’ll tell yourselves, she isn’t sleeping much. She looks terrible. She must be going through something.

So what if I am, you want to tell them? Aren’t we all?

When you step off the bus, it’s barely raining anymore and you decide not to open your umbrella. You let the rain slide through your hair, against your hands. You’re so cold but you’re used to it. You haven’t been able to warm up in a while. The rain feels good, actually. It makes you aware of your body, of your skin. As you walk towards your apartment building, you tilt your head backwards and let the rain fall down your cheeks like tears.

Daylight has almost vanished when you unlock your apartment door, and you step inside with a sigh. You’ve grown to hate this place so much, but there is nowhere else to go. You should look for another apartment, but moving seems like an insurmountable amount of shit to go through and you just don’t have the energy. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe in a few months. Maybe.

You start by taking a shower, the boiling hot water contrasting with your icy cold skin. You wash your hair, apply lotion. Your movements are slow but you get there eventually. Wrapped in your bathrobe, you open your closet and stare at your clothes. It’s not that you hate them, you just have no idea what to choose. You’re not going someplace fancy, so you end up slipping on a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater.

You should probably eat something, but your stomach is in a tight knot. There will be food at Yeji’s place, anyway.

As you check your phone and realize you still have some time before you have to leave, you let out a long sigh and sit on your bed. You’re not sure you really want to go, but your friends organized this movie night a while ago and they are excited for it. Yeji’s place is perfect for it - she has a projector, which allows the movies to play as wide as the wall. Everyone has been tasked to bring their favorite snacks and drinks. It’s going to be a chill night, and you’ll be happy to see your friends, but everything feels exhausting.

You promised you were going to be there. So you will go.

It’s not like they will bother you, anyway. They all know you pretty well, although some more than others, but they are all aware of what is going on with you. No secrets to have. Still you don’t want to be a bore, and you know you’ll do your best to smile throughout. It’s not that they want you to - but you’ll still do it. It’s just who you are.

At least he won’t be there. Yeji said he wouldn’t - had plans already, apparently. It would be okay if your ex was there - actually, you’ve seen him a couple of times already since your breakup. But you need to be in the right mindset - and today you aren’t, so it’s good he’ll be absent.

You let out a long sigh and stand up to dry your hair.

You apply simple makeup, a bit of eyeliner, some mascara. You put on your favorite necklace. You decide to wear perfume. Little things to make you feel better, like you aren’t crippled inside, like you don’t have a decaying organ in your chest. It’s recent, that you’re able to do that. A week ago you would’ve showed up in sweatpants and messy hair.

Little steps.

As you grab a tote bag to fill it with the snacks you bought yesterday, you get a text from Yeji.

Everything okay?

Come anytime <3

She’s checking up on you and you’re grateful for it. Not a lot of people do, not even your closest friends. You don’t blame them - you haven’t been good company and sometimes it’s hard to find the right words. Some of them have been anxious that your breakup with San will mess up their friend group, and in fear of seeming like they’re taking sides, they just decided not to say anything. They take care of you differently - but sometimes you hate that they can’t talk about it with you.

Yeji doesn’t do that. She’s been there for you at every step - and it’s not because she blames or dislikes San. It’s just different for you and her, because your friendship not only goes way back when your friend group got together, but also way beyond.

Leaving in 5, you text back, and she sends a heart emoji.

Once you’re ready, you slip on your jacket and stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look your normal self, except for the obvious exhaustion on your face, and the slightly vacant look in your eyes.

You can do this.

You won’t let your stupid, broken heart define you or your life.

When you get to Yeji’s, she pulls you into a tight hug. A few people are already there - Jeongin is already snacking on a huge bowl of popcorn, talking to Lily, who’s on her phone scrolling down Pinterest boards. Changbin and his girlfriend, the newest addition to your friend group, are bundled up under a blanket on the couch and wave at you.

You follow Yeji to the kitchen, putting the cans of soda you brought in the fridge, adding your snacks to the pile on the counter.

“You look really pretty,” Yeji tells you with a smile. “Is that the sweater we got together the other day?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m still not sure about the color, though.”

“No, it suits you. I promise.”

You give her a sincere smile as she empties a bag of potato chips in a bowl. It’s quiet in the apartment, but you know it won’t last very long - except for Changbin, the loudest people have yet to arrive.

“How was work today?” Yeji asks.

“Fine,” you shrug. “Boring.”

She gives you a long look.

“You know you don’t have to stay there, right? You can find something else. With your skills it would be easy -”

“I know, Yeji,” you say in a low voice. “But not right now.”

You play with your nail polish, chipping a small piece from your thumb.

“Right now boring is good,” you nod, your voice a little more firm. “When I can focus more, I’ll look for something else. Promise.”

She smiles, taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “I just don’t want you to waste away where you don’t belong. You’re worth so much more.”

“I appreciate it.”

You put your head on her shoulder for a second as Jeongin’s laugh resonates through the apartment. It’s a sweet and familiar sound, and you start to believe it was a good idea to come.

Grabbing the filled bowls of potato chips, you and Yeji join the others in the living room. You sit down next to Jeongin, who quickly shows you the funny puppy video Lily has shown him, and you giggle at the screen. As Yeji starts to set up the projector, the door opens on a few more of your friends and you know it won’t be quiet anymore.

Chan, Jisung and Minho are yelling about something, raising the volume of the conversation a million dozen decibels, and you shake your head at the sight of them. Chaotic and loud as they are, even in your state you are grateful for them, because whatever the circumstances they can always make you smile, or, at least, provide welcome distractions.

They drop down in the remaining spots, either on the couch or the floor, Minho diving his hand down Jeongin’s popcorn bowl and Jisung arguing with Changbin about the type of beer he bought - of course, as usual, Jisung’s only answer to Changbin’s complaint is a simple traitor.

“THIS AGAIN…” Changbin yells at the top of his lungs.

You can’t help but smile. That game has been going on since Changbin moved out of his apartment with Jisung and Chan to move in with his girlfriend - Minho took his spot since, and there really isn’t any bad blood between them, but Jisung loves to remind Changbin how he abandoned them.

“Hey, Y/N,” Minho says, sitting down between you and Jeongin. You took the spot at the end of the couch, a blanket covering your legs. “How’s it going?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a smile. “What about you?”

“Fantastic. Did you check out that link I sent you?”

You start to talk a little - you and Minho work in a similar domain and it’s always nice to exchange ideas and anecdotes. You find yourself immersed in the conversation, the noise of all your friends chatting and laughing mixing into a background noise you can’t get enough of - it definitely helps the black hole inside your chest. You don’t feel so cold, you don’t feel so empty. You know it won’t last, and reality will catch up to you quickly, but for now you allow yourself to relax.

“Y/N.”

You turn towards Chan, who has stopped at your level. He’s smiling kindly at you, looking a little tired - but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Like you, Chan barely sleeps. Neither of you can stop the ceaseless train of thought in your heads - while you stare at the ceiling, Chan works.

“Hey, Channie.”

“You want something to drink?”

“Yeah, maybe a soda.”

“Cool, coming right up.”

“Oiiiii, what about me?” Minho whines.

He asks for a can of beer, followed by Lily who has finished her previous one, and soon everyone is yelling at Chan to bring them something to drink. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and you chuckle.

“Let me help you,” you say, standing up. “Y’all are lazy,” you add, squinting your eyes at your friends.

Their protests all tangle together and you laugh, following Chan to the kitchen.

Your friends.

They are all precious to you, all in their own way.

But Chan. Chan.

The first time you met him you felt your heartbeat accelerate because he looked so damn charming. A kind smile, eyes like stars, and an energy that immediately soothed you. It did not take long for you to develop a crush on him. How could you not? He was kind, funny, talented, and smart. He truly cared for the people in his life and never broke a promise. Handsome, too, of course. The kind of guy that made you weak in the knees, that sent your thoughts reeling whenever he touched you.

Your crush had always been one-sided though, which was fine. You had quickly worked to overcome your physical attraction to him and made it a priority to develop your friendship. Because Chan understood you. You found yourselves exchanging looks and agreeing on similar things often enough so that one day, you sat down next to him during a party to ask for advice and you ended up talking for hours, forgetting to get drunk like everyone else.

You are not particularly close. You don’t know everything about each other. You mostly see each other with the rest of your friend group - rarely alone. You don’t text each other everyday - in fact, you barely do. But he’s a steady presence in your life, a friend you rely on, and you know it’s the same for him.

Tonight, you’re especially grateful for him.

Chan gives you a smile as he opens the fridge.

“I like your sweater,” he says, handing you a pack of sodas.

You put it on the kitchen island, smiling.

“Thank you. I like your earrings. Are they new?”

You’re used to Chan wearing his silver hoops, but today he’s sporting a simple black dot on one ear, a small lightning bolt on the other.

“Yeah, I felt like a change,” he nods. “They say it’s good for us, right?”

“I guess,” you answer simply. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.”

You exchange smiles, gathering all the desired drinks slowly. You glance at him sometimes, at the angle of his nose, at the dark curls that brush his ears. Your crush on Chan eventually faded away, although never entirely. You have just buried it so deep inside you sometimes you forget it is there - you haven’t thought about it for a long time.

Then again, your heart has been entirely occupied by San.

Heart.

Body.

Soul.

All of which lay in pieces, now.

Chan must see the shadows in your eyes, because he frowns a little, looking intently at you.

“Is something wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to shake the bad thoughts away at the same time.

“No, no, don’t worry.”

Chan gives you a smile and a short nod, although he’s still frowning. He can feel you don’t want to linger on it - you hope he knows it’s not that you don’t trust him. Besides Yeji, Chan is perhaps the friend you trust the most.

You remember every single hug he’s given you.

Always so warm.

Always at the right time.

He probably doesn’t know some of them gave you the strength to hold on. The most recent one, about two weeks ago.

“Can I have another one, please?”

The barman gives you a nod and turns to prepare you another beer.

Besides you, Yeji gives you a long look. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“Just one more,” you tell her, lifting an index.

She smiles, throwing an arm around your neck. She keeps a close eye on you - that’s why you feel comfortable to indulge in another drink. You need it, after all. Since your breakup with San, you’ve barely touched alcohol, choosing instead to drown in snacks and utter isolation.

So for your friend, it’s a step forward that you’ve agreed to come tonight.

It’s just you, Yeji, Chan and Jisung. A quiet night at the local pub.

A few beers, a board game.

When you have a new full pint, you and Yeji head back to the table and sit down. All of you decide to play another game, and Jisung starts shuffling the cards, telling you some dumb joke. You know he’s doing that to make you feel better, and it works. You find yourself smiling so much your cheeks hurt a little.

You place your head on his shoulder, affectionately, and cross Chan’s gaze. He’s smiling, too, fondly.

Your friends are talking and your heart hurts so fucking much.

You miss San. You’ve fallen out of love a long time ago, you now realize, but it’s still painful. You have to start over. You have to find yourself again. It’ll be long work - but you’ll do it. And as you look at your friends, you think to yourself they will make it easier. You’ve been drinking a little, and the emotion swells in your chest.

“Y/N, don’t cry!” Yeji cries out, noticing the tears on your cheeks.

You have not even realized you are crying. You touch your skin in surprise, letting out a giggle.

“Awwww, no, honey,” Jisung says, drawing you in his arms.

He rocks you like a child and you laugh as more tears drip down your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I love you guys so much.”

“Nooo, you’re gonna make me cry too,” Yeji cries out, taking your hand.

“I know it’s not… Not easy for you, because San is your friend, and…” You sniffle. “I don’t want this to be difficult for you.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N,” Jisung whispers. “We’re your friends, too.”

“We’re here for you,” Chan nods.

Crying and laughing at the same time, your friends decide to keep playing to get your mind off of things. You’re grateful.

Yeji wins, of course. She always does. Once all your beers are finished, you agree to go. Chan will drive Yeji home - he’s only had one pint. Jisung lives close to you, so you decide to walk together.

You say goodnight to Yeji. She places a kiss on your cheek, squeezes your hand. Chan draws you into a hug.

It’s so loving. So steady.

It takes the breath out of your lungs.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says in your ear. “I’m here if you need me.”

You’re too dumbstruck to reply. But you know you’ll remember those words for a long time.

You do.

You still remember the words - you can still hear them.

He’s here.

He loves you.

Like a friend, of course.

But that is more than enough.

“Y/N?”

Chan’s voice brings you back to the present. You shake your head and chuckle.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought.”

He nods, biting his lip nervously. “By the way, I wanted to ask. There’s this concert next -”

That’s when you hear the door open - followed by a voice.

His voice.

Your blood freezes in your veins, and you stare dumbly at Chan, unable to move.

You feel like bursting out in tears. No, no, no.

Not him, not tonight.

You feel Chan’s eyes on you. Yet, you don’t really see him. He delicately puts a hand on your wrist.

“Y/N…”

You try to gather your thoughts. You should’ve prepared, just in case. You feel so stupid. Of course it was all going too well.

You’re startled when Yeji bursts in the kitchen, puts her hands on your shoulders and seeks your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, honey -”

“What the hell?” you hear Chan mutter next to you. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to come.”

“He wasn’t,” Yeji hisses. “I swear, he told me he couldn’t.”

“Fuck’s sake, this dude…”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Slowly, you look up at your friends, gathering a smile.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice clear. You take Yeji’s hands in yours, nod at her. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I’ll be fine.”

You look at Chan next, and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest. There’s something in his eyes you can’t identify, a spark that is also a shadow. He’s frowning, his body slightly bent towards you, like he’s about to pull you into a hug. You clear your throat and nod, praying to all you can not to let your voice tremble.

“It’s all right,” you say. “He’s our friend. He should be here.”

And to some degree, you mean it.

Yeji gives you a tight hug, and you can hear Chan let out a long sigh from behind you. You can’t linger on it - you have to focus on yourself.

Stay calm. Breathe.

You can do this.

The breakup was hard for the both of you, you remind yourself. You loved each other, you really did, that much you’re sure of. San was never that good of a liar. You have a much more vulnerable nature than him, which was always a source of conflict between you, but you know your breakup affected him. You remember the tears in his eyes. The vein in his neck, pulsing, as he held them back. You remember the way his hand clenched yours. The way his words came out broken from between his teeth.

It’s over, isn’t it?

You fell out of love.

It happens.

You take a deep breath. You still want San to be your friend. You’ve agreed that you would try, and you intend to follow through on your words.

You take a step to follow Yeji back to the living room, but Chan puts a delicate hand on your shoulder. You turn around, plunge your eyes in his. You’ve always thought of them as a haven, a night sky full of stars, both deep and bright.

He stares at you with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. He smells as he always has, a smell you’ve wanted on your pillow for so long - and it still makes you slightly dizzy although you know there’s no chance with him.

“If at any moment you want to go home, tell me, yeah?” he whispers to you. “I’ll drive you.”

You’re a little entranced by the soft lines on his full lips and the way his low voice scrapes - but you manage a nod, after what feels like a long second.

“Thank you.”

He nods, gives your shoulder a squeeze and lets you go. The warmth of his hand lingers there, and it gives you courage to move forward.

San has already taken a seat next to Jisung and glances at you when you walk into the room. Your friends are kind enough to keep the conversation going, so the room doesn’t fall silent, but your heart sinks at the bottom of your chest.

Because San doesn’t look tired. He doesn’t look sad.

In fact, he beams.

Eyes sparkling.

New clothes, new watch.

A smile so wide it slices right through your heart.

Fuck, he looks so happy.

You have to bite your tongue so you burst out crying. You stagger a little bit, but Chan is right behind you and it prevents you from falling back. His warmth, the voices of your friends, everything makes it better.

“Hey,” you manage to say, although you’re not sure how. “You look good.”

“Thanks, you too,” he tells you, but his voice is distant. His eyes are too, like he doesn’t even see you anymore. Not like he did before.

It’s abundantly clear - your ex has moved on.

It’s not that you still have feelings for him - you just need time to grieve what you had. San was a huge part of your life for a long time, and suddenly he isn’t there anymore. That absence, that void, that’s what is difficult to deal with. Being so goddamn alone all the time. No one to make you feel loved. No one to love, either.

You’re still putting yourself back together.

You’re still healing.

Not him. He’s done it.

You should be happy for him, and in a way, you are. You’re not mad he’s moved on. But it happened so quickly. It hasn’t even been two months. You were together for more than a year. Maybe you’re jealous, maybe you’re bitter. But mostly it hurts.

How long is it going to take you? Why are you so goddamn sensitive?

You breathe out and help Chan bring everyone their drinks. San’s laughter is a haunting melody and you can’t wait for the movie to start so you can think about something else. You take your previous seat, and Jeongin rubs your back affectionately, offering you the bowl of popcorn.

Chan sits at the opposite side of the room. Pathetically, you wish he was still next to you. Instead you focus on the images that start playing, projected on the white wall in front of you. It’s a movie you’ve already seen, but that’s ok. It’s not like you can really focus, anyway.

Because all you can see is San. Funny, clever, happy. You know him, you’d know if he was pretending, but he isn’t. He’s liberated. It’s the only word that comes to mind. You wonder for how long you’ve been bringing him down. If he realized it and hated you for it. If he couldn’t wait to get rid of you. If he was just looking for an excuse and -

You close your eyes and put a stop to the intruding thoughts.

No. It wasn’t like that.

Was it?

You don’t know anymore.

You barely follow the movie because your thoughts keep spiraling. Around you, your friends are chatting, making jokes, and commenting on the movie. Jisung’s laugh is so loud it takes over sometimes and you take refuge in it. But your heart feels frozen in place, in the middle of two beats, unable to go forward. You stare into nothing. You don’t even touch your soda. The popcorn, either - so you hand it back to Jeongin. His presence feels good, too.

You hate yourself for being unable to live in the moment. For letting your mind wander like it is, dizzy and unkind.

In the movie, people say what they think.

In the movie, loving doesn’t seem so hard.

In the movie, it doesn’t rain.

It’s a blessing and a curse that everyone is watching the movie, and that you’re sitting in the corner, in the dark. Your eyes are filled with tears and suddenly one escapes and slides down your cheek. You fidget in your seat, faking a yawn to wipe it away. You pull the blanket over your trembling body. You laugh when the others do, although it’s heartless. Nobody notices - or so you think - and it’s a good thing.

You try to focus on the movie. It’s entertaining, it’s funny, and for a minute, maybe, you succeed in feeling better. Then you see, from the corner of your eye, San pulling out his phone. He stares at the screen, and in the dark, its blue light illuminates his face. He smiles at it and types a few words. You know that smile. Fuck, you were that smile, once.

You clench your jaw, hard, and wanting to look away you accidentally fall into Chan’s eyes. He’s looking at you, and although you can’t see his face very well in the darkness, you notice the worry in his eyes. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t say anything - but you hear his silent question. You need to go?

You shake your head slowly, forcing a smile. I’m fine. I’m fine.

He nods. He doesn’t believe you.

You stand up on shaky legs and head to the bathroom. Once you close the door, you don’t even open the light. You wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of your own reflection. You just breathe out, breathe in, and then breathe out again. The tears fall down your cheeks, warm. They taste bitter on your lips.

Why can’t you be like him? Why can’t you move on, be happy?

You take a few minutes to collect yourself. It’s fine - you don’t mind seeing San. It’s good, if, unlike you, he’s able to rebuild himself. It’s all you wish for him, and you know it’s all he wishes for you, too. He’d probably be honestly sad to know you aren’t doing well. You can never tell him, of course. You’ll pretend as well as you can - you can’t allow yourself to be vulnerable with him for now. You’ll keep it for yourself, shamefully, selfishly.

It will be fine.

You’ll get over it. He did, so why not you?

Once you feel ready, you head out the bathroom, and Chan is there, leaning against the wall.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you chuckle. “I didn’t realize someone was waiting. Did you -”

You stop as Chan puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to him. You fall into his arms, and you’re a little shocked so you don’t move at first. Still, Chan holds you there. You stammer.

“C-Chan, I’m okay, you don’t have to -”

“Y/N,” he says, and there’s something about the way he whispers your name that makes your heart ache. “I saw you crying. Please. You don’t have to hide.”

Gently, you let your head fall against his chest. He hugs you a little tighter.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he whispers. “You don’t have to hide.”

You nod. He said it in such a way, you don’t know what it is.

You are friends.

You’ve been for a long time.

Despite your crush on him, despite the awkward period where he was aware of it but didn’t say anything, despite all of that, you are friends.

But Chan has always been more than that for you.

Chan is a pillar, Chan is a mess.

Chan is both the lighthouse and the storm.

You like the feel of his arms around you. The way his chest moves as he breathes. The texture of his t-shirt.

Oh, God. Not again.

You can’t let your crush come back running. You’re just sad. You’re just lonely. It wouldn’t be fair to Chan, would it? He’s your friend. He’s not a pretty face you can choose to lust over whenever you’re lonely.

Don’t do that to yourself, Y/N.

Don’t do that to him.

Chan is your friend and he is only trying to be here for you.

“Do you want to go home?” he whispers in your hair.

You take a deep breath and nod. Chan takes a step back, smiling kindly at you. You do the same, although it’s a little faint. He bends his knees slightly to be at your height, gently rubs your cheeks to remove the tears and replace your hair.

“Let’s go, then, love.”

You don’t have time to gawk at him for using a nickname he’s never said before, because he turns and waves at you to follow him.

He tells your friends you’re feeling a little sick and he’ll drive you home. You say there’s the flu going around at the office, and you hate lying to your friends, because you know some of you will believe you and some won’t. Right now you don’t really care - even if they all knew it was a lie, they wouldn’t judge you. You make sure to not avoid San’s eyes and smile at him. You don’t want him to start asking questions.

You get your things. Yeji gives you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, making you promise you’ll text tomorrow. You nod, squeezing her hand and glancing at your friends. There will come a day when you’ll be yourself again.

You just need time.

Time and a lot of courage.

When you step outside, with Chan right behind you, you realize it’s raining again. You look up at the sky, now a profound black painted by hints of grey clouds. You run to his car, the rain heavy and cold.

The car is clean and smells nice. Chan pulls back his hoodie, starts the engine and drives away as you look back at the apartment building. You wish you were stronger.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chan says, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on his thigh to the rhythm of the song on the radio.

“Do you?” you tell him with a smile.

“I do,” he nods, matching your smile. “You’re telling yourself you should be stronger.”

You gawk at him, feeling both embarrassed and scandalized. He shrugs.

“Didn’t I ever tell you I can read you like an open book?”

“Tsk,” you retort. “Wasn’t that when we played Mafia?”

“Whatever applies to Mafia applies to real life.”

“Not sure that’s true.”

“This is.”

You glare at him and he does the same, playfully. You feel much more relaxed now that you’re here. It was always easy to talk to Chan - never does that change, whatever the circumstances. You are much alike in that you tend to put others before yourselves, often at the sacrifice of your own feelings. For some reason, though, that didn’t work between you. The walls immediately fall apart.

“So I’m an open book, huh?” you say, staring at your hands.

“To me, yes. When I have my eyes on you.”

“And you had your eyes on me tonight?” you ask without thinking.

“Of course,” he answers, stopping the car at a red light. “I stayed sober, kept a close eye on you. Just in case.”

You wince. “Just in case I started crying hysterically or made a scene?”

He shakes his head, looking at you. The red light reflects on his face, enveloping the car in its hue. The rain thumps on the car in soft sounds. Chan’s dark hair is messy on his head, charmingly curled at the tips.

“More like in case he did something,” he eventually says.

“Why would he?” you ask with a frown, assuming he’s talking about San.

“Well…” Chan sighs. “He can be a dick sometimes.”

You’re surprised by his words - you never would’ve thought that Chan disliked San. On all accounts, they are good friends. Chan chuckles nervously at your look, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I know you were a thing for a long time, but… It’s just what I think.”

“Did he do something?”

Chan shrugs. “It’s just a feeling. Never really did anything. Except breaking up with you, of course.”

You scoff. “He’s an asshole for breaking up with me?”

“Yeah,” Chan stammers. “Just - like - who would ever let a girl like you go?”

His words don’t make a lot of sense to you. They come to you muffled, as if you are plunged in a dream or in a drunken state. You honestly can’t believe your ears.

“What are you -”

He quickly waves his hand, looks away from you to the road ahead - and fortunately for him, the light turns green, so he has a good excuse to change the subject.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just rambling.”

You really don’t want to let this go. Your heart is racing, and you honestly wouldn’t know San’s name if someone was to yell it in your ear right now. All you can see is Chan, his tightened jaw, gripping the wheel of his car, driving you home. His words echo in your head, and you’re trying to put everything together.

Did you miss something? Clearly, Chan has something on his mind, an itch he can’t scratch. Have you been so intoxicated by your grief and sadness that you blacked out? You haven’t been a good friend, that much you know. You just wanted to feel better, first. You were of use to no one feeling this sad and broken. But Chan’s agitation has clearly been there for a while. How long have you been this blind?

You open your mouth, trying to find the right words. Chan, what is going on?

Chan, are you angry at me?

Chan, please, tell me what’s on your mind.

You sigh in frustration. You’re silent for a while, your thoughts spiraling, and just when you’re just about ready to ask, your phone rings. You glance at the screen instinctively, and San’s name is like a slap on the face.

Are you okay? he asks in a text. Tell me when you get home.

Hints of your boyfriend. Remnants of the past. The text feels like a ghost is speaking to you. It makes you angry. It makes you ache.

You might not love San anymore, but you miss him.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you nod.

You’re about to say you’re fine, which has become an automatic response, but you remember what Chan said. I can read you like an open book. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“It’s San,” you explain. “He’s asking me if I’m okay and to text him when I’m home.”

Chan scoffs, and there is nothing amiable in the sound. “The guts on this guy,” he mutters. “I’m literally driving you and he knows that.”

You frown, sensing the anger in his voice.

“Seriously, Chan, did something happen between your two?”

Chan shakes his head. He doesn’t want to look at you.

“Chan,” you insist. “Tell me, please.”

He lets out a sigh, gripping the wheel tighter.

“We might’ve had… an altercation.”

“An altercation?” you repeat. “Like a fight?!”

“Not a fight,” Chan sighs. “Not a physical one, anyway.”

“What the fuck happened?”

The words escape your mouth. An uneasy feeling washes over you. Nobody has told you about this. Nobody has said a word.

“When did this happen?” you ask when Chan doesn’t answer.

“Like… a week ago, I think.”

“Why didn’t no one -”

You interrupt yourself and close your eyes. Looking out the car window, you realize you’re already parked in front of your apartment building. How did it go so fast?

For how much longer are you going to keep losing track of time?

“Chan,” you say, your voice shaking. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

He looks at you with timid eyes. They shimmer in the darkness but you can’t focus on them. You are trembling and you can’t hold on to a single clear thought. Your mind is a blurry mess.

Chan looks out through the window before he takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t want to do this tonight. You need to rest, you -”

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll never be able to sleep, so it will be worse.”

You feel your hands shaking, so you clench your fists. Outside, the rain accelerates, pounds loudly on the car. The sound is almost unbearable but you don’t care.

“If you’re trying to protect me, I’m grateful,” you add, when you see he’s still hesitating. “But I can take it. I’d rather know.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice quivering.

“We’re friends, right?” you tell him. “That’s what you said. Be my friend, Chan.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes. You’re scared, and yet a part of you feels perfectly calm. You hate the fact that something was hidden from you, but you’re so ready to withstand whatever storm is heading your way.

You’d rather stand in chaos than into nothingness.

At least the chaos makes a little sense.

“Before I say anything…” Chan sighs. “I don’t want you to take any of this on you, yeah? I know you’ll feel bad, but please, just remember -”

“For fuck’s sake, Chan,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Get to the point.”

“He has a girlfriend.”

You stare back at him.

“What?”

“San. He has a girlfriend. I thought it was too soon, that it was disrespectful of you, so I told him and it got heated, but… Yeah. Shit. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It’s like the rain suddenly got quiet.

A girlfriend.

You should’ve known. You saw it, after all. The phone, the text, the smile. The happiness in his eyes. The trendy clothes, the new watch. All the hints were there.

He has moved on.

More than you expected.

Everything happens quickly. Your body acts before your brain registers it, and in the blink of an eye you’re outside in the pouring rain. You slam the passenger door behind you, you forget your bag, you don’t even think about it. You just walk forward.

It’s bitter cold.

In seconds, you’re drenched.

Your knees feel weak and you’re sure you are going to fall.

A sob escapes your throat.

It shouldn’t hurt that much.

You hate your heart.

You hate how vulnerable it is.

You want to move on, too.

“Y/N!”

You turn around, halfway to the door of your apartment, to find Chan running towards you. You raise your hand slowly. It’s shaking like a leaf.

“It’s fine, Chan. I’m f-”

“Stop saying that!”

You’re a bit surprised at the sudden anguish in his voice. He stops inches away from you, getting soaked by the heavy rain. It slides down his cheeks like tears, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks at you fiercely, his eyes blazing with light.

“I’m sorry, I just - I see you’re hurting and it’s killing me.”

You don’t know what to tell him. You wish he would go away. You wish he would hug you. You wish the pain would just stop.

“Y/N -”

“I don’t care!” you scream, the sound getting lost in the rain.

Chan frowns.

“I don’t care if he has a girlfriend,” you cry out. “I just…” You shrug, your eyes lost in Chan’s. “I just want to heal, too. I want to move on, too. I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick of hurting.”

There is such despair in Chan’s face you can hardly bear it. You wish you could tell him not to take the weight of your pain on his shoulders, but you know him better than that. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s here with you.

“You just have to give me time,” you say, your voice falling apart. “I’ll be fine eventually.”

He lets out a sigh, slides a hand through his drenched hair. A raindrop slides down his face, gets caught on his lips.

“Please, let’s go inside,” he pleads. “Let me be here for you.”

You hesitate, but the cold rain keeps you on your toes. You want to be home, in your own space, but you also don’t want to be alone. So you nod, and Chan lets out a sigh, thanking you in a whisper.

When you step inside your apartment you’re a little shy to turn on the lights because it’s messy, but you can’t really be bothered about that right now. Chan waits on the other side of the door, a hesitant look on his face.

“Come in,” you tell him.

He nods, closing the door behind him. Your place is modest, just big enough for one person, situated in the semi-basement of the building. It does not get much light, but it feels cozy and it is cheap.

The first thing you do is get a towel for Chan so he can dry his hair and his clothes. He hangs his hoodie on a hook near the door; luckily the t-shirt underneath is only damp. His dark blue jeans took the worst of the rain. You suggest giving him some dry clothes, but he insists he’ll be fine.

You tell him to get comfortable and go to change in your room. Your limbs feel weak as you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck. You cannot stop thinking about Chan's words.

San has a girlfriend.

He has opened his heart to love again.

The rain keeps falling.

It’s time you heal.

When you come back to the living room, Chan is anxiously staring at his phone. He puts it away when he sees you, smiling a little timidly.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Want a drink?”

“Sounds good.”

You give him a gentle smile and you both head to the kitchen, where you fill two glasses of soju. He takes one, clinking it against yours. You drink it in one go.

“Now that feels better,” you sigh.

Chan smiles at you fondly, and you nudge his arm.

“Chan. It’s all right. It had to happen.”

“So quickly, though?” he winces.

“We all heal at different paces,” you say softly. “Or maybe it’s his way of healing. Either way I’m happy for him.”

Chan leans one elbow on the kitchen counter, giving you a long look. You hold his gaze, confused at the sudden calmness you feel.

“You said you can read me like an open book,” you remind him, pouring yourself another drink. “Am I lying?”

He smiles briefly. “No.”

“Cheers.”

He takes another sip, and you imitate him.

“How about we sit down?” you propose.

Once in the living room, you sink into the couch. Chan sits at a comfortable distance, twirling his glass between his fingers. It’s strange to see him at your place - because of the size of your apartment, you rarely have friends over. You remember him driving you home a couple of times, but he must have been inside only once or twice in the three years you’ve lived here.

You talk a little, about everything and nothing. You drink some more, perhaps a little too much, but the soju warms your body. Chan relaxes, too. The bottle is quickly empty.

You both fall silent, and you stare at the bottom of your empty glass. The tears come back too easily.

“Chan?”

“Yeah, love?”

You peck your lips. Hearing him say that feels too good. It’s so new, but you already don’t want him to ever stop.

“Is she pretty?” you utter.

“Y/N…”

“She must be. Pretty and smart.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Do you know her?”

You look up, and Chan shakes his head. His hair is untidy, his cheeks a little red, his full lips as inviting as ever.

“I don’t. Ji told me they met at a party.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “So everyone knows?”

You hate the way your voice shudders, but you can’t help it. Chan shuffles closer to you, gently taking your hand in his. It’s warm and familiar.

“No,” he answers in a soft voice. “Just a few. We wanted to wait for the right moment - well, actually, I thought San should be the one to tell you.”

You laugh, wiping your tears. “No offense, but that would’ve been worse.”

Chan snorts amusingly. “Oh. Good thing it didn’t happen, then. I thought it’d be a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.”

You both end up giggling, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand. You sniffle. You don’t let go either.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you say. But why are you so invested in this?”

“In your breakup?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not invested in your breakup,” he shrugs. “I’m invested in you, you’re my friend.”

“But it’s - you don’t have to, you can just be like the others, not take a side, you don’t have to fight anyone.”

“Why wouldn’t I speak out? It bothers me, you know me, I don’t shut up when it comes to people I care about.”

“But San is your friend, too.”

“But you’re -”

You frown. “I’m what?”

“You’re Y/N.”

The tenderness in his voice takes you by surprise. It seeps through his lips, echoes in his eyes. You feel your heart twist and turn - and just like that, his fingers slip away from yours.

“Sorry, I…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Hell, I’m doing it all wrong tonight. And I should really stop drinking. How the fuck am I supposed to drive back home?”

“Chan, wait,” you say, ignoring him. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighs heavily. His face falls in his hand, and he breathes there for a second before he looks back up at you. He looks so tired.

“I know you had a crush on me,” he breathes.

You smile nervously. “Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because I have a crush on you, too,” he says.

You blink, and it’s like the world tilts. You haven’t been drinking that much, it can’t be the soju. Still, you feel dizzy and warm. Chan is looking at you with fondness and anguish.

He didn’t say had.

He said have.

His words are right there, still on the tip of his tongue.

In his eyes.

So damn bright.

No - he’s here because he’s your friend. That’s it.

Isn’t it?

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out.

“I never acted on it because San had wanted to ask you out for a while,” Chan explains with a shrug. “And you know me. I never put myself before others. And although I sorta knew you had a crush on me, I convinced myself San was better for you.”

You look down at your hands, feeling completely overwhelmed.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you whisper.

“Because you were so happy with him,” Chan says, his voice shaking. “You found each other and it was good, and who was I to say anything? At one point it didn’t even matter anymore, and I buried it deep inside of me, told myself I was over you. You were over me, after all. It was just a crush, anyway. I was so sure you’d be in this with San for the long run.”

So did I, you want to say. Your throat feels so dry, however, you can’t say anything. You can just stare at Chan. He smiles at you almost carefully.

“When I heard about your breakup… Everything came rushing back. The other night, after we got drinks, and I saw you crying… I was just so worried about you. So gutted to see you hurt, it was almost unbearable. And then he said he found someone else and I couldn’t understand, and we argued. It was heated, but it’s fine now. We’re good.”

You close your eyes because the world can’t stop spinning. You were so cold earlier, but now you’re almost sweating. You’re too warm. The world is ablaze.

Chan is your fire.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I can’t say I am. But if I let myself go…” He stumbles on his words. “I just might.”

Time has stopped. You can barely breathe.

You feel the sting of shame.

The delightful warmth of Chan’s confession.

You’ve been so blind.

“You just mean so much to me,” he says, his voice both low and soft. “I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be loved as you should be loved.”

When you open your eyes, it feels like he’s sitting closer to you although he hasn’t moved. He’s not touching you, but his smell overwhelms your senses. You can’t look away, and he watches you back.

“How I wish I could,” he breathes, his eyes drilling into yours. “Fall into you. Show you how you could be loved. ”

You drink his words like they’re the essence of life. You feel, in each one, a wish, a hope, a possibility. Ropes that were drawn and never knotted together. Lifelines, waiting to be grasped.

“I never was,” you breathe.

He frowns. “What?”

“Over you,” you explain. “I never was over you. I’m not.”

He closes his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t tell me that.”

“It’s true,” you say, voice trembling. “I loved San, of course I did. But you were always in my heart and you will never not be.”

Chan’s eyes drip down your eyes to your lips. You feel an ache inside your chest. It’s like it’s starting to rain indoors. What an odd feeling.

“You don’t love him anymore?” he asks carefully, weighing every word.

“No.”

Your voice comes in a whisper, but it’s full of certainty.

“But Chan, I…” You swallow. “I can’t - I can’t listen to what my heart says about you, it’s not fair, you’re not… You’re not a stand-in, you’re not - you’re more important than that, and…”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard.

“Just once,” Chan smiles. “I want to taste your lips. Just once.”

What could you say to that? How many times did you dream about Chan’s lips on yours, wondering what they felt like? Were his kisses kind, delicate, hungry? You’d see him drink whiskey and wonder if the taste would linger on them. You’d see him kiss another girl and picture yourself in her place.

And now he was offering you a kiss.

Hell, he wanted to kiss you.

So you find yourself nodding, and Chan takes a long look at you, as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind. You remain immobile, lips parted, awaiting his. Slowly, he plucks them, grazing them against his - and they sink into yours, soft, like a cloud, deep, like the ocean.

You collapse in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He slides his fingers through your hair, his other hand embracing your waist to pull you closer. You can’t hold back a sigh from escaping your lips, and Chan responds by kissing you deeper, the movements of his lips getting almost feverish.

“Chan,” you moan when you gasp for breath.

“Fuck, I can’t stop,” he growls, placing small kisses on your lips.

His fingers dig in your skin, and you desperately want to disappear against him, so you move your leg so you can straddle him. Chan wraps himself around you, and you feel the dampness of his clothes but you don’t care. You take his face in your hands, plunging back into a needy kiss. Chan’s hands wander on your back, on your hips, on the back of your neck. You can only lean into him. His tongue teases your lips and you open your mouth to let it in. It plays with yours, and you can feel walls tighten.

By now you are fully making out, your hips grinding against his. You can feel him getting hard, and it sends your mind reeling.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he moans around your lips.

“I’ve thought about this so often, Chan,” you admit.

“Same,” he grins. “I… Fuck, I can’t tell you this.”

“Tell me,” you insist, trailing kisses alongside his jaw, on the delicate skin of his neck. It makes him shudder, and can almost feel his cock pulsating under you.

“I thought about your lips,” he breathes out. “Your body. How you would sound moaning against me…”

“Fuck, Channie…”

You clench at his words, pressing your core on his erection. He grunts, his fingers slowly making their way under your shirt. You tug at his, and suddenly, like a flash of lightning, you realize what you are doing. Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth dries. Everything rushes back. You stop, and he does the same, leaning back.

He looks more attractive than ever with his hair tousled by your fingers, his full lips red and wet from your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I just -”

“Is this going too fast?” he asks you gently.

You hesitate. “It’s not that. I just - I don’t want to give the wrong impression.”

Chan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like you’re just a rebound or something,” you shrug.

Chan smiles - that cheeky grin of his, his eyes sparkling at the same time. It toys with your heartstrings. How could anyone not adore this man?

“I don’t care,” he answers. “I’ll be your rebound.”

“Chan, I’m serious,” you sigh.

“So am I,” he says, twirling a strand of your hair around his index. “If it’s something you want, then I’m here. I want to. And it doesn’t have to mean anything tomorrow, or ever. We’ll always be friends.”

You breathe out, briefly closing your eyes. All you want is to keep kissing him, to forget the world in his arms. To be desired, to be loved.

It’s all you want.

But your heart still aches.

So much has happened tonight - you feel so heavy.

You sigh again. “I just… Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Chan cups your cheek.

“It’s okay, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s all so fresh. I can leave if you -”

“No,” you quickly interrupt him, pushing a finger against his plush lips. “Please. Stay with me.”

Chan nods, his eyes not leaving yours. You should move. You should get going - get a glass of water, sleep it all off. But you can’t move, lost in Chan’s gaze, your body a bundle of nerves. You lean forward, settling your forehead against his.

“It’s killing me,” you chuckle nervously.

Chan giggles, and the sound is delightful. “We have time, love. I won’t let you go, now. I got you.”

He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’ll have me.”

As an answer, you give him another kiss. You slide your fingers through his humid hair, inhaling his scent.

“Will you sleep here tonight?”

“I’m here, baby.”

The word makes something melt inside of you. You shiver, and instinctively, he sprawls his warm hands on your back.

You’re overwhelmed by the tenderness and the hurt.

You feel so loved.

So abandoned.

So alone.

So supported.

So seen.

Your lips find him again like a magnet. You kiss him deeper than before. You’re losing your mind.

“Y/N,” he breathes in your mouth.

The words escape your lips. “Fuck it, I want you.”

He groans, his fingers diving in your skin. His cock twitches under you, making you lose all sense.

“I want this, Chan,” you sigh, biting his lip. “But I don’t - I don’t want you to think I’m using you, all right? You’re my friend, I care about you, I -”

He laughs. “You can use me all you want.”

He starts kissing you again, feverishly, as if it hasn’t just been a few seconds since he last did it. You arch your back, closing all distance between your bodies. Chan starts placing kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing your thin skin.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’ll make you forget for a little while. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just you and me tonight. Let the rest fade away.”

He puts his strong hands on your ass, and slowly moves it. You sway your hips, and the friction of his erection against you makes you moan softly. You plunge your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his shoulder blades.

“Just you and me, yeah?” he whispers.

“Just you and me,” you nod.

In a swift move he removes your shirt, groaning at the sight of your bralette. It’s made of a thin lacy material, so he can perfectly see your nipples, and immediately leans in to brush his lips against them. You shudder, your nails digging in the back of his neck.

He removes your bra to gain access to your breasts, gently massaging them in his hands and sliding his tongue around them. Meanwhile, you caress his cock above his jeans, loving the way he tenses at your touch.

“Hold on to me,” he tells you in a breath.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you up, only to gently lay you down on the couch so he’s on top of you.

“Let me see you,” you breathe, grabbing his t-shirt.

He obliges, removing the piece of clothing so you revel in the sight of his toned chest. You take off your sweatpants and stare as he removes his jeans as well, giving you a better sight of his athletic body. His boxers do nothing to hide his erection.

“Before this goes any further,” he says, and his voice sounds so raw it sends shivers down your spine. “Do you have -”

“Bathroom,” you say with a nod.

He smiles, bends to steal a kiss and disappears. You look up at the ceiling, suddenly very aware of your nakedness, of what you are about to do.

It feels like you’ve been through ten days in one.

This morning you woke up with dread.

Now you are filled with hope.

Is this going too fast? Should you wait?

Maybe.

You don’t want to.

This feeling in your chest, that Chan helps surge, that threatens to burst - all this light, all this love. It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. From someone else, from yourself.

So what if it’s too fast? You want to live.

And if there’s a person you trust, it’s Chan.

“Got it,” you hear him say as he reappears.

You don’t really know what to say because you have all this love and light inside your chest and words would not feel enough, so you stay silent, only pull him back into a kiss. He lays on top of you, warm and a little unsteady. You can feel he’s a little nervous, just like you, but you don’t mind. You need his softness. You need his realness.

You push his boxers down, feeling his cock touch your stomach. The sensation is enough to clear your mind, and you bite Chan’s lower lip a little. He answers with a slight chuckle.

You want to tell him how crazy he makes you. How nice it is to feel him so warm and hard. How much this means to you. But for some reason, you can bring yourself to say anything, and neither does he. You just breathe together, febrile and eager. His fingers graze your wetness, and you shiver. Sensing your pleasure, Chan applies some pressure on your folds, leaning two fingers on your clit. You arch your back, moaning a little louder than you expected. Your hands reach for him, palming his cock, your own fingers brushing his tip.

“Fuck,” Chan grunts. “Y/N…”

“Channie, please,” you whisper.

“Wait,” he answers. “I want to do something first, if this is my only chance.”

You frown, opening your eyes as you feel him move. You quickly understand what he means, however, as his lips trace a path of wet kisses on your stomach and your thighs. Soon his breath is against your core, and you forget how to breathe.

When his tongue touches you, it’s like a hundred sensations at once, and you can’t hold back a shaky moan. Your fingers grab the couch as Chan pushes your legs further apart. He kisses you, pressing his tongue into you, attentive to your reactions.

“You’re gorgeous, you know?” he says, although you barely hear him. “Keep moaning for me, baby girl.”

A surge of pleasure goes through your body, enveloping you in silk, and you grab Chan’s hair, instinctively pushing him against your clit as his tongue encloses it.

“Fuck, fuck, Chan, I’m…” you whimper.

“Are you coming?”

You nod, and he buries his nose in you, embracing your sensitive spots. Your orgasm makes your whole body tremble against him, and he holds your legs as you do, making sure to accompany you throughout.

As you come down, slowly, you blink back into reality. You look at him a little timidly, realizing your fingers are still tangled in his hair. You place your palm against his head, caressing it tenderly.

“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” he chuckles. “It was beautiful.”

You bite your lip and he moves so he can kiss you. Your taste is on his lips and his tongue and it’s making you a little dizzy.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt as good as this.

Not that the sex with San was bad - but it faded at the same time your love did. When you broke up you had not touched each other like that - barely kissed, even - for weeks.

Although you’re sensitive, you really want to make Chan feel good. You need him inside you, stretching you, making you whole. You align your legs so his cock falls between them, and you grind slowly. His breath hitches against your lips, and you take it as a hint he likes it.

“You made me feel so good, Channie,” you tell him in between kisses. “I want to do the same for you.”

“Fuck, you’re so warm,” he lets out.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He nods fervently, puts on the condom he got from the bathroom and aligns himself with your entrance. You feel so relaxed and tense at the same time, tucked in his arms on the couch, the rest of the world faded away. He enters you slowly, letting you time to adjust to his size, and you breathe out slowly.

He feels so different. He feels so right. You are a bundle of nerves he unmakes.

He thrusts his hips at a measured, exquisite pace. Each time he goes deeper, and you cry out in pleasure, your fingers digging in the skin of his muscled back. You feel the fever, you feel the want. He breathes heavily against your neck, holding you tight.

“You okay?” he asks in a whisper.

“Don’t stop,” you tell him, arching a little to facilitate his movements.

Chan doesn’t stop. As he makes love to you - because it is what he is doing - you sense his thrusts getting a little more erratic. In the quiet of the living room you hear nothing but the sound of him plunging inside you, his cock smeared by your wetness, his breathing mingling with yours. It is so erotic, so loving, your second orgasm is building quickly and deliciously.

Chan accelerates. You pant, moaning nonsense.

“Come with me,” he breathes, and that is the last thing you need to come undone.

It’s enthralling how your soul escapes you and yet stays right there, against Chan, around him, with him. As you clench around his cock, you hear a delightful moan escape his throat, rough and hoarse, and it keeps you right above the clouds with him as he comes inside of you. You feel him twitch before he relaxes slowly.

His lips find your forehead and he plants the softest of kisses there.

As you sink into the couch, he removes himself from you, and lays down on top of your body. You don’t mind the weight - in fact, it feels just right. His nose is in your neck, his breath tickling your sweat-covered skin. Your fingers slide in his hair, and you close your eyes.

You give yourselves time to recover. As the high fades, you feel Chan’s breathing relax and get more steady.

“Channie,” you whisper with a smile. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“Hm?” he groans, lifting his head to look at you.

With his hair all over the place, his small eyes and swollen lips, he looks ready to pass out. It elicits a large smile from you, and you tenderly caress his cheek.

“Let’s get to bed,” you tell him.

He nods. You stand up on shaky legs, and help him on his feet. Together you close the lights in the apartment, and then you take his hand to guide him towards the bathroom. You take the time to clean up and head to the bedroom. The lights are off except for the fairy lights hanging above your bed. Once you’re there, you open a drawer, take out a t-shirt that will fit him.

You slip under the sheets, Chan next to you. He pulls you into his arms, and you put your head on his shoulder.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle.

Who knows what the sky will look like tomorrow?

For now you just want to sleep against Charm’s warmth.

“Get some rest, love,” he whispers to you.

“Goodnight, Channie.”

“Goodnight.”

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