#half-life-2-esque

[im-constantly-fangirling]

pride and prejudice

Summary: Rafe Cameron is your typical frat boy-- and you hate those types. But what happens when a night out gives you a peek of who Rafe Cameron is behind all of that?

obxau!Rafe x afab!Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: underage drinking, the word 'rapist' (no one gets raped or anything), cursing, terrible attempts at humor

A/N: This is definitely not a product of me watching pride and prejudice after watching 22nd jump street. Definitely not. I'm planning on making this a series, so stay tuned for more!

Edit: guys I’m working on part 2!! Hopefully I’ll have it up in the next few days, before my classes start :)

Masterlist

You weren’t one for frat parties; you were more of a kickback kind of girl. You’d been to exactly two frat parties during your time in college, and they both disappointed you immensely. But your friend had a thing going on with this one guy, and that guy was best friends with someone from a frat– so for the sake of her love life you put on a frat party-esque outfit. And that’s how you found yourself sipping on a drink, talking to your friend when her almost-boyfriend crashed your conversation with someone.

You were swaying slightly along to the music that was being blasted throughout the house, trying your best not to bump into the severely drunk people that surrounded you. Your friend laughed and grabbed her almost-boyfriend’s arm. “There you are,” she said, slightly slurry. “I was having so much fun without you!”

He laughed and poked her nose. “Just wanted to introduce my favorite girl to my favorite guy. This,” he said, pointing at his friend, “Is Rafe Cameron.” 

You let your eyes roam over Rafe Cameron as he shook your friend’s hand. Typical frat boy, you thought. Loose-fitting shirt, black pants, slightly unkempt hair, rings. All he was missing was a silver chain and earrings and he’d be the poster boy for a homewrecker’s association. He extended his hand to you, but your body lagged momentarily. Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron. 

He probably was the poster boy for a homewrecker’s association.

“Wait,” you said, hesitating. “Rafe Cameron? I’ve heard of you!”

He smirked a little. “I figured.”

You almost rolled your eyes. Arrogant. Should have known. You shook his hand out of respect, but you weren’t too eager to do more than that. 

Rafe wasn’t on the same page. “So what’s your name?” he slightly shouted over the music.

You gave him your name and took a sip of your drink from your silo cup. You elbowed your friend. “You just about done for tonight? If you drink even a drop more I feel like I’m gonna have to airlift you out of here.”

Your friend laughed and shrugged before looking at her almost-boyfriend. “But I’m having so much fun!”

He put his arm around her loosely, and they both drunkenly grinned at each other. You looked at Rafe and fake gagged. “They’re disgusting. Especially him, just cause I’m not gonna insult her.”

“He never told me his girl had such a beautiful friend, you know,” Rafe said, his hand reaching up to comb through his hair. Your eyes trailed his arm, watching as his short sleeve fell back and exposed his bicep– and then you remembered whose arm you were just staring at, and looked back at his face. 

Judging by his smile, he knew you were looking. 

“Don’t waste your lines on me, Rafe Cameron. I’m not gonna sleep with you,” you retorted.

“Who said I wanted to?” he teased, crossing his arms.

You pursed your lips. “So is that how you greet everything with a pulse that walks through your door?”

Rafe chuckled and took half a step closer to you. “That’s how I greet people I find interesting.”

“Aha so you do wanna sleep with me!” you exclaimed. “Oh, how I love being correct.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, must not be a regular occurrence with how excited you are.”

You pouted at him, swatting at his shoulder. “That’s not very welcoming of you. I thought the job of a host was to be kind to their guests?”

“You don’t seem like you want to be my guest,” Rafe said, a slight implication in his voice. He took your red silo cup out of your hand. “But I’ll give you some time to change your mind.”

You tilted your head at him. “I’m not that easy, Cameron.”

“I like a challenge.” He took a sip of your drink, eyes wincing. “Holy shit, this is strong!”

“Yeah, I can’t hold my liquor for shit, but I sure love to try.” You took your drink back from Rafe. “Thank you for leaving behind exactly two drops,” you said sarcastically.

Rafe put up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’ll get you a refill.”

You smiled at him with a poisonous smile. “Better get hoppin’, Cameron.”

“You’re not gonna come with?” He questioned. You started nodding when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend and her almost-boyfriend making out, their hands wandering. When you looked back at Rafe, he looked like he could barely hold in his laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come,” you said, resigned. Rafe laughed, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over your face lightly. “Shut it before I tackle you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, turning to walk toward the drink table. 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You and Rafe had finally fought through the sluggish heap of college students, reaching the kitchen only to find mostly empty bottles. Rafe put his hands on his hips and hummed to himself. “Actually,” he said, “Wait here. I’ll go get some from my room. Can’t let a pretty girl walk around here without a drink.”

You smiled at him slightly. “Flattery isn’t gonna get you anywhere, Cameron.”

“Not with that attitude it won’t,” he said before he disappeared into the throng of students, making his way to the stairs. You just pulled your phone out and stood in the corner, hoping that no one would bump into you. 

Your phone vibrated with a text from your friend. 

Gojng bck to his place, get hom cafe! ill pay u back 4 uberrrrrr 

That girl really needs to pace her drinks, you thought to yourself. Crossing your arms around yourself, you tried to blend into the dark corner of the kitchen you planted yourself in. Maybe just one drink with Rafe and then I’ll go home. 

As if on cue, you felt a slight poke on your right shoulder. You turned to find Rafe standing with two cups, filled almost to the brim with coke and god knows what else. “I have returned,” he said.

“Very medieval of you,” you teased, taking the glass from him. “What’s in it, exactly?”

“Just some Tito’s and coke. Can’t go wrong there,” Rafe said, taking a sip of his drink.

You looked into the brown liquid and, when you noticed no bubbles or anything else strange, you took a little sip. “I’ll give you that one. Sometimes basic is good.”

“Woah, doth my ears misunderstand? Art thou agreeing with me?” Rafe said sarcastically.

You laughed. “It’s just the alcohol, alright? I don’t usually have more than two shots, and right now I’m no shot number three.”

Rafe laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re such a lightweight!”

An immediate, stubborn fire lit in your stomach at those words. “Hey! You might be right but would a lightweight do this?” You brought the cup to your lips and chugged the slightly bitter drink, ignoring the ache in your throat from the sheer volume of liquid. 

“I could do better than that,” Rafe countered, downing his drink in three large sips. You watched his Adam’s apple bob slightly. You hated to think it, but you saw the appeal. The sarcasm, charm, chill attitude– and it didn’t help that it was attached to such a nice body.

You definitely drank too much. 

“Let’s pour another then, mister big shot!” you slurred slightly. Fuck, my head hurts a little. 

Rafe shook his head vigorously. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. You’ve just had five shots.”

Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. “There were two shots in there?”

Rafe leaned in, just a few inches between your faces. “And that was me restraining myself,” he said in a low voice. “I think I win our alcoholic contest, sweetheart.”

You felt a slight blush creep into your face. It’s just the alcohol, you thought. It’s definitely not his voice. 

“Well,” you slurred. “I should probably head home anyway. My lovely friend and her make out partner have decided to abandon me high and dry, so it’s not like I’ve got much entertainment here anyway.”

“Okay, now I’m offended. I’m not entertaining?” Rafe put his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Let me call you an Uber, then.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You think chivalry is gonna get you in my good graces, Cameron?”

He shook his head. “I know it will.” He pulled out his phone, the brightness illuminating his face slightly. You could see every crevice of his pores, his plush lips—

I need to go home, you thought. Too much drink. Toooooo much. You shook your head and then immediately winced, regretting the sudden movement. 

“You okay?” Rafe asked. 

You nodded your head lightly. “Yeah my head is just spinning reallllyyyyyy fast,” you said, chuckling. “It’s like my head is moving and my brain is taking a bit to catch up with me.”

Rafe put his phone in his back pocket. “Alright, how about we get you sobered up a little before I send you home, alright? I don’t need the RAs to get you in trouble for drinking.” He lightly grabbed your upper forearm and guided you out of the kitchen before you stopped him.

“Wait, Rafe,” you said, your eyes wide. “I’m really really dizzy.” You blinked your eyes open and close over and over again, as if that would get the alcohol to process through your system faster. “I don’t wanna walk.” I probably look like a clutz right now. In front of Rafe Cameron, no less. 

Rafe sighed a little before he guided you to lean all of your body weight into his side. “Come on, let’s go sit on the couch, alright?”

You shook your head. “Noooo I don’t want to,” you slurred, your head throbbing at this point. “Too many people there. It’s embarrassing,” you whined. I wanna go home, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, you thought to yourself.

“You wanna go upstairs then? There’s no one in my room.” Rafe put his arm around your shoulder, and you leaned into his support, your face falling into the space between his neck and shoulder. You could smell his cologne just slightly, and you had to give it to him– he picked out some good cologne. He smelled just lightly of sandalwood and pine. It distracted you for a little bit before you remembered to respond.

“Okay, but if you kidnap me then I’m gonna be sooooo mad at you.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

When Rafe got to the stairs, he looked at you and the stairs and back at you again. “So how do you want to do this?”

You shook your head in the crook of his neck, frustrated. “I don’t knowww,” you whined. “My brain isn’t working right now and I hate it, I hate it, I hate–”

“Alright, sweetheart, how about I just carry you up the stairs? You don’t have to do anything, you just have to sleep a little, okay? I promise the second you wake up I’ll drive you home.”

You hummed for a really long time, harmonizing to Phantom of the Opera. “I’m so sorry for being this annoying,” you started rambling. “I don’t really drink this much and like I wanna take care of myself but it’s so frustrating cause I tell my legs to move and they just don’t- ah!”

Rafe put his hands under your knees, lifting you up and climbing the stairs, weaving in and out of the small groups of people who were standing on the staircase. “It’s okay, trust me. You’re not an annoying drunk, you’re kinda funny.” He poked the area behind your knee and you snorted. “Woah, what was that sound?” he asked you.

You clutched his shirt and buried yourself into his neck even deeper than before. “If I hear a word about this tomorrow, I’m going to order an Osama bin Laden level hit squad on you, you hear me Cameron? I’m anti-gun but I’ll change my mind just to get rid of you.”

“Harsh words from the girl who couldn’t figure out a flight of stairs,” Rafe teased you. 

He brought you down the hallway, and the loud noises of the party slowly started getting a little quieter. The lights were off in this part of the house, and you found the dark a welcome cool for your pupils. Your eyes closed. 

“You doing alright there?” Rafe asked you. He leaned all your weight onto his one hand and thigh and you heard the turn of a doorknob– and then the click of the door as it shut behind you. 

“Don’t kidnap me, Cameron,” you slurred. “Remember. Osama bin Laden hit squad.”

Rafe chuckled, and you felt the vibrations through his chest. “Relax, sweetheart. I know some people think I’m a dick, but I’m not a rapist.” He lowered you to what you could feel was a bed and a slightly wrinkled comforter of some sort. Comfy. 

You peeked an eye open to look at him. “That’s what a rapist might say.” Rafe’s face was still a little close to you, having just put you on his bed, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to his lips. And then back to his eyes when you remembered who he was. And then back down to his lips when you forgot. 

“You talk a lot, don’t you?” Rafe commented, making no move to get away from you. Rather, he did the opposite– he sat on the edge of his bed, leaning his weight onto his thighs. His basketball shorts rode up a little and you could see the slight muscle of it. 

You opened both of your eyes and found yourself in a small, secluded room. The only light source was his desk lamp in the corner, the soft yellow light giving the area a cozy glow. He had a few basketball posters up on the wall across from where you were lying. Typical frat room, you thought. No surprises there. 

You sat up against his headboard and looked Rafe defiantly in his eyes. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Never said I didn’t like it,” Rafe said. “Between the two of us, I think you’re the one who’s got a heart full of hate.”

“Just because I don’t say yes to sleeping with you doesn’t mean I hate you, Cameron,” you said slightly irritated. “Sorry, I don’t fall onto your feet immediately.”

“You don’t hate me, huh?” Rafe said, smirking. “That’s a start.”

“And that’s all it’s gonna be. I’m not easy,” you repeated. “Not much works on me.”

“So what does? Asking for a friend.” Rafe motioned you to scootch over, and you did, cornered between him and the wall. You sat with your back against the headboard, and Rafe sat opposite you, putting his hands behind him. 

You hummed for a really long time. I’ve been humming a lot lately, you thought. “I don’t knooooow,” you drew out. “I’ll tell you if you give me 20 Monopoly dollars.”

“How about 20 Life dollars?” Rafe countered.

“Deal!” you said, laughing. You sighed, the question sobering you up a little bit. “I want a man who’s genuine,” you decided. “I’ve done the whole casual, hook-up thing. I hated it, I always felt used afterward.” You looked at him. “Guess I just want something real for once.”

Rafe didn’t break your eye contact, and you could practically see the gears in his head processing everything you said. 

Shit, you thought. Not very casual and funny of me to just drop this on a frat guy. 

You leaned your head against the headboard, a drunk smile on your face. “But I don’t expect you to get that. Not exactly the fun conversation you wanted to have at your party, right? Hey! Hopefully I don’t remember telling you this tomorrow morning!” You laughed at your own stupidity. “Wait, fuck, if I forget then you might still remember!”

Rafe cleared his throat and got on all fours, reaching behind you to pull up his pillow. You moved forward naturally. “What, are you gonna hit me with it?” you joked with Rafe.

He didn’t laugh, chuckle, give a quip back. Nothing. He just laid the pillow down flat and gestured for you to lay down. You did. “You should get some sleep,” he said solemnly. 

You nodded lightly, happily noticing your head throbbing less than before. When your eyes closed, you felt Rafe’s weight get off of the bed. You didn’t know why, but you felt something clawing at you in your stomach, telling you that you’d fucked up somewhere. He’s helping you, you thought. He’s helping you and you just insulted his character two seconds ago. 

“Wait, Rafe?” you called out. You heard him give a soft grunt in response. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

There was a pause and you heard him take in a breath. “Guess I’m just a good host,” he said softly, slight jest in his voice. But it was tinged with a heaviness that you hadn’t heard all night. You opened your eyes to find him sitting at his desk, looking at you.

“You know,” you started, the alcohol making you more vulnerable than usual. “That light makes you look really good. Kind of like a painting.”

Rafe chuckled. “You’ve definitely had too much to drink, sweetheart.”

You turned your body to face him. “Maybe. But I’m not gonna remember this tomorrow, so did this even happen?” you said. “Are we in a matrix? Have we been in a simulation this–”

“You sound like a podcast junkie right now,” Rafe said, laughing. You heard less of the heaviness in his voice and rejoiced silently. Frat boy or not, you didn’t like making people sad.

“You’re a little different than I thought you’d be, Cameron.”

Rafe shook his head. “I still fuck anything that moves, don’t worry. And I can hold my alcohol, but we already established that, didn’t we?”

You slapped your hand over your eyes. “Too soon, man. Too soon.” Your eyes started drooping behind your palm, and you yawned. “Wait, if you want I can go sleep on the couch. I don’t wanna take your bed, and you’ve been so nice to me even though I’m like an annoying amount of drunk. It’s the least I can do,” you begged.

“There’s like fifty people on the couch,” Rafe pointed out.

You dragged your hand down your face and pouted, your lower lip jutting out slightly in thought. “Then I can Uber back home. I don’t wanna bother you.” Tears started lining your eyes. 

Rafe rolled his chair next to his bed and grabbed your wrist lightly, drawing your attention. “Listen to me. I’m not letting you Uber home in this condition, and I’m definitely not going to make you try and sleep on a couch that is probably covered in fifty STDs right now. I’ve got no problem with you sleeping here, you hear me? Besides, you seem chill so far. I don’t hate spending time with you, you know.”

You looked at his hand holding your wrist, noting how it dwarfed you. I’m not easy, you reminded yourself. I deserve more than a hook-up ridden frat boy. “Or maybe you just want to hold it over my head that I slept in your room the first night I met you,” you joked, trying to break the tension.

Rafe chuckled. “There’s that, too.”

You brought your hand up to his wrist and gently pried his fingers off of your wrist. “I charge thirty dollars for physical contact, Cameron.”

“You must owe me thousands, then,” he retorted. You laughed.

“Where are you going to sleep?” you asked.

“Will knowing that make you feel better about sleeping here?” he questioned you. When you nodded your head yes, he sighed.

“Wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway. I’ve got an exam in my marketing class tomorrow and I’ve skipped half of the lectures.”

“Hah! Marketing major. That’s what I thought,” you said. But you were content with his answer, and you closed your eyes. 

“Put down your pitchforks, ma’am. I’m an Information Systems major.” You heard Rafe roll his chair back to his desk.

“Not much better, Cameron.” You paused for a second. “But again, thank you. I owe you one.”

“Go to sleep already. You’re gonna need the rest for when I make fun of you in the morning,” said Rafe.

You chuckled lightly, sleep starting to take you over. You muttered quietly, drunkenly: “Goodnight, Rafe.”

[halflifebutawesome]

BEHOLD! FOR THE SECOND TIME, THE GBVRAI LINEUP! now with another weird old dude!

waves my hands around vaguely I wanted to make a nicer looking lineup and more coherent post actually explaining the au. I've now made 2 gbvrai lineups but never a plain old hlvrai lineup. Whatever.

There's a complete AU explanation and individual character profiles (?) under the cut! check it out! ASK ME ABOUT IT !!! SMILES!!!!!

The basic gist of this au is that the science team, are a group of ghost hunting paranormal researchers. The Ghostbusters. You mightve heard of them. This isn't a 1 for 1 au where certain characters take the role of others, it's more just. What if the science team existed in the Ghostbusters universe. They're just the Ghostbusters now.

On a particularly odd case, they bust a ghost that seems... off. It's sentient, it's talking back, and it's psychokinetic energy is off the charts.

Thinking nothing of it, they return to the firehouse and prep the trap for containment disposal. Gordon's the new guy, so he's the unlucky dude who's been assigned the job of disposing of the traps. All the while the ghost will NOT shut up. It's weirdly powerful and seems mostly unbothered. It's name is Benry, and he's a little freak.

the ghost containment unit has been unstable for a while, overfilled with ghosts, but they have to dispose of Benry somehow, so they go ahead with it.

In this AU I'm kind of combining the Resonance Cascade with the Manhattan Crossrip (the Manhattan crossrip is the big scary ghost event that happens at the end of GB1). Basically what happens is that Benrys weirdly powerful ghostly energy, combined with an unstable ghost containment unit, tears a big rip in the fabric between the ghost realm and ours, letting all sorts of ghouls and specters free.

Imagine the Resonance Cascade, with all the aliens getting out and ravaging Black Mesa, but it's a bunch of ghosts getting out and ravaging New York. Gordon and the rest of the team have to fight their way through the ghost filled streets of NYC, and close the crossrip.

Heres some closeups and more individual info/thoughts for the gang!!

GORDON FREEMAN! The new guy. Again, this is less a direct 1 for 1 swap au kind of deal, and more just putting these guys in situations. Gordon's HEV suit, tho, I wanna talk about.

In Ghostbusters canon, they DO have a weird fucked up hazard suit. It first appears in the TRGB episode "Xmas Marks The Spot", where Egon uses it to travel into the ghost realm. I know it makes another appearance in the comics, in a way that's more HEV-esque, but I never finished the comics so idk. It's real tho.

I imagine here that the ghost containment unit is more like the reactor in half life, where it's hazardous to be around for too long, probably bcos of like. I don't know. Concentrated psychokinetic energy. Sure. In any case he needs to wear the HEV to use the containment unit.

My design here is taking the chest piece, helmet, gloves and belts and modifying them to look a little more HEV-esque.

Bennyyyy. Benrey benry beny. He's a ghost, as far as they can tell. It would be more appropriate to call him an entity of sorts.

He's not a ghost simply for the fact that he wasn't ever human. He wasn't ever a living person that died. He's some pure, really powerful, concentrate entity/being that leaked through from the ghost realm. He looks like. A guy, for the most part, but he's a mimic. Something pretending to be human. He's been around for a while, and has settled into this form. He's mostly corporeal, but can phase in and out as he pleases (noclipping) Switching from corporeal/incorporeal when it's funny.

He met Tommy when they were both a lot younger, Benry being fresh out of the ghost realm, and have been bestfriends ever since. ☝️ my au my weirdly specific tommybenny dynamic. Dw about it

TOMMY & SUNKIST!!!! Tommy has grown up around ghosts his whole life, and is pretty in-tune with them. This is proven with his bond to Sunkist, who's decidedly not a real dog, and his longtime friendship with Benry.

I gave him the goggles cos. Tommy's my fave and Ray's my fave and I think they're fun. Also cos if it WAS a 1 to 1 swap I would def have Tommy as Ray. Anyway. He's been a part of the Ghostbusters since he was little, like I said he grew up with them and around them. He's really knowledgeable about ghost types and physics. He knows all the ghost rules.

Sunkist isn't like. His dead childhood dog cos that seems. Kind of sad. Instead she's kind of a church Grimm or hell hound. An entity taking the form of a big huge dog that Tommy befriended when he was a kid, and has now kind of bonded to him. She's pretty corporeal as far as ghosts go, and can interact w the physical environment pretty well.

DARNOLD ^^ my friend darnold. Darnolds not usually super involved in the actual ghostbusting, and prefers to stay behind. He's more of the research and tech kind of guy, he studies the readings and takes measurements.

He's interested in psychokinetic energy and ghost residue and all sorts of like. Ghost sciences. Why some people stay behind, why some people just seem to die and disappear, the properties of the ghost realm and the ghosts themselves. Corporeality and degradation of personhood the longer someone's been a ghost.

When the Resonance Crossrip happens, he opts to stay behind and observe the effects of the insane amounts of ghost energy on the corporeal world.

Hes also a transfer over from the ghost engineers! That's a fun thing for me. I love the ghost engineers idc frozen empire gave me everything I wanted

FORZEN. Forzen is... the same thing as Benry. A mimic, something taking the form of a normal ghost to blend in or hide in plain sight.

He came through with the Resonance Crossrip, but obviously like. He knew Benry before (we WERE bestfriends..). He's not as powerful, which is why he wasn't able to sneak through when Benry did. He's also not super corporeal. He can only interact with the physical world if he's exerting a LOT of energy. Prone to flickering in and out of vision.

Upon coming thru the Crossrip, he kind of just. Decided to hang around the firehouse. Didn't wanna go much further, for fear of being ghostbusted and sent back into the containment unit. The source is the last place they'd look for him!

Darnold, who's holed up in the firehouse, is more than delighted to meet a ghost who's sentient and willing to cooperate to do some tests and experimentation to get never before documented results. They bond and they're cutesit. ☝️ DARZEN WIN. hi splash 👋

Dr Coomer and Dr Bubby are two of the three original founders of the Ghostbusters! They've been around for a looooong time. They're also married obviously but that's like a given.

They helped found the Ghostbusters, having met in college while both were studying parapsychology. I imagine their like. Parapsychology -> Ghostbusters pipeline was very in line with how GB1 starts, where they used to work in an academic environment before getting kicked out and founding the GB.

They're also both. Psychic. Because frozen empire has once again given me everything. Coomers got some like. Idk something that lines up with his self awareness in HLVRAI, maybe prophecy? Vauge visions of the future? Bubby has pyrokinesis. Duh.

and... Mr. Coolatta..... Tommy's dad...he was one of the founders along w Coomer and Bubby and at some point he. Died. And is now a reeeally really powerful ghost. maybe from the exposure to ghost energy or smth?

Now hes got gman powers and just kinda hangs around. Pretty corporeal and solid and. Present. For lack of a better word. But he IS a dead guy. Used to be human.

This is why Tommy kind of grew up around ghosts and knows alot about them :) Mr Coolatta is pretty benevolent, and mostly just kind of spooky and fucked up.

And that's. About it? I believe?? PLEAAASE ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS I have so many thoughts. I've been working on this for like 2 months now. Lol.

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; back 2 u (part four)

you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime

this is part four of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!

fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au

...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3

word count: 11.1k (EXTRA special ty to my beloved @serejae for beta reading for me T_T)

warnings:  ANGST,,,, cursing, one kms joke, gongfourz fboy activities, woonhak is a little lost, alcohol/weed usage (reader smokes and drinks one (1) single beer), shotgunning (smoke), insecurity + overthinking, toxic relationship behaviors, mentions of other idols as side characters :P (newjeans minji, gidle minnie, enha heeseung, zb1 matthew)

a/n: apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth .... but wanted to mention that i joined @onedoornet !!! ^_^ plsplspls go support and check out everyone else in this lovely network hueheuhe <3

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

A mess consisting of scrap paper, pens, and various scribbled notes from the lecture was currently occupying the entire span of your desk. You were supposed to be studying for an exam you had in a couple days, but you were currently sprawled out in the comfort of your bed as you scrolled mindlessly through Twitter. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee sent a post by kminji04! the_myungjaeee: LOL look at woonhak dancing in the 3rd slide

Opening Instagram, you’re faced with what looks like a photo dump from a girl who goes to your university. It was recently posted, the caption reading “late night finds”. Swiping to see the video Jaehyun was referring to, you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at seeing one of your best friends dancing horribly in a parking lot, laughter coming from the background of the clip. 

Out of habit, you find yourself scrolling through the rest of the post’s contents, finding various pictures of what you assume to be the girl’s friend group, neatly-arranged drinks in a cafe, pretty skies from places you recognize around campus. You don’t think much of the post until a particular picture catches your eye. 

To anyone else, it just looked like your typical soft-launch type post. There was no account tagged, but you’ve seen enough of the relationship-esque genre of pictures to recognize them when you see one. A set of masculine hands doodling hearts on the condensation of the driver’s seat window. The quality of the photo isn’t great, clearly being taken late at night, but the head that’s half cropped out of the photo is one you recognize all too well. The bleached blonde streaks towards the nape of the man’s neck confirms the suspicion brewing in your gut: It’s Taesan. You don’t really want to think too hard about why the inside of the car is fogging up the windows like that, or why it’s a heart he’s drawing, out of all things, because you know it’ll only hurt your feelings even more. 

Curiosity gets the best of you as you tap on the user who posted the image. kminji04. Kim Minji. You’re glad the profile was public in the first place, but maybe it wasn’t something you should be thankful for. You shouldn’t be diving head-first into this rabbit hole. But what you don’t know can’t hurt you, surely. 

You ignore your brain’s attempt at protecting you as you examine the profile further. Having your fair share of experience when it came to social media digging, it was easy to get an idea about who Kim Minji was. Her feed reflects the same feeling you got from the first post you saw— She seemed to take a liking to posting a variety of pictures that revealed different slices of her life. Looked to be an English major, and in the same year as you. She was undeniably stunning, model-like, even. Asides from Woonhak, you didn’t share many mutuals. You shouldn’t be looking too deep into this. You wouldn’t get anything good out of doing so.

You kept going. In her highlights, you didn’t notice anything too out of the ordinary. That is, until you got to one in particular, labeled only with a heart. Two weeks ago, a scenic view by the water. After that, two iced coffees are neatly placed side by side in a cute cafe, followed by other food-related pictures of the same nature. Clicking through the slides, you were about to write it off as just another compilation of aesthetic stills-- Except you see a familiar jacket appear in the background of one of the stories. The same jacket that currently resides in your closet. The same jacket Han Taesan wrapped around you before he kissed you for the first time. 

Putting together the pieces, you quickly realize the entire highlight showcased various dates they went on. You never got the chance to exchange anything besides a brief kiss and your number, but it was easy to find Taesan in both her followers and following. It was more than enough evidence for you to assume that it was Kim Minji he was talking to in the library. The one he called baby. He probably wore that jacket with her in the days leading up to the party. You think it’s dumb the way your heart hurts at the understanding; you’re unsure of why you yearn so badly for someone you’d only recently met, but maybe that’s why he built up such a reputation in the first place. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee: ok leave me on seen do u want me to kms

The notification on the top of your screen pulls you out of your thoughts. Rather than replying, you decide to open your messages, looking for one group chat in particular. 

to: “woonhak’s babysitters”! can i see u guys tmr :( 

The responses are instantaneous, and you’re happy to see that your friends are still awake– probably procrastinating their assignments as well. 

woonhak’s babysitters Jaehyun: OKAY NOW U TEXT THE GC INSTEAD OF REPLYING ON INSTAGRAM You: girl are u free or not Woonhak: yes let’s hang out Woonhak: but wats with the :( why are we :( y/n Jaehyun: bro ik u have my schedule memorized…. you KNOW i’m free  Jaehyun: don't forget we literally operate under the assumption that we are going to see each other everyday 🙄 Jaehyun: but ^^ is something wrong did something happen You: not really but i need to debrief again… 😀 Woonhak: mystery man? You: …….maybe 👎👎👎 meet at our usual cafe @ 3? Jaehyun: not u using us as love counselors again…. what��s in it for us 🤔 You: i’ll pay Jaehyun: 😍😍😍 SEE YOU GUYS TOMORROW 💯LOVE YOU! 😇

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“It’s crazy how things taste better when you aren’t the one who paid for them!” Jaehyun stirs the iced coffee in his hand with the straw, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, whatever, I knew you would still show up even if I didn’t bribe you with free food.” You roll your eyes at the boy next to you, who is clearly enjoying the drink you just bought for him. “How can you tell if a guy is flirting with you?”

“You’re just going to drop a bomb on us like that?” Jaehyun lightheartedly criticizes. The teasing never seemed to stop when it came to talking about your love life, but you were glad to know they would always lend you an ear if you needed one. “Can you give us another hypothetical scenario for context?” 

“You remember how I texted that guy about his overdue book? Well, he showed up while I was working on Tuesday,”  They nod, listening intently as they periodically take small sips from their straws. “He’s always calling me pet names, like things my boyfriend should be saying... He even noticed I did my makeup differently that day too!” 

“I’m almost certain he likes you if he’s complimenting you like that all the time,” Woonhak affirms. “He’s definitely trying to woo you over with that sort of act.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be so bold with calling a girl those names if I wasn’t at least somewhat into her. Did you ask him to hang out after your shift was over?”

“I mean, I tried to. He stepped away to answer his phone, and it sounded like he was talking to a girl. At least, I think he was.” You’re fairly certain that you were right, but maybe it was safer not to jump to conclusions. 

“What makes you think that?”

“He kept talking about how he was almost done and that he’d be coming over soon… And he called them baby.” Who else would he call ‘baby’ if not another girl? Talking about it out loud brings back all the conspiracies going through your head when you’d stalked Minji’s profile before bed. 

“Wow, what kind of man would call someone that after blatantly flirting with you? I was almost rooting for him until you said that, you know.” Woonhak looks disappointed as he picks up a strawberry off the plate on the table and pops it into his mouth. 

The conversation goes dull for a moment, sounds from neighboring tables filling the silence at the table. “Woonhak, how do you know Kim Minji?” You pry, deciding not to dance around the question that could give you the answers you were desperately searching for.

“Minji? She helped me write some papers for English 301,” He’s taken aback by the direct question, but he answers quickly regardless. “She’s really nice though! I was hanging out with her and a bunch of other people the other week.”

“Woonhakie, what was that video she posted of you?” Jaehyun’s laugh rings throughout your corner of the cafe as he recalls the post he sent you last night. “You looked so funny dancing like that!” 

“Ah, is that what we’re talking about? Yeah, I lost a bet and I had to dance to a random song for three whole minutes. l didn’t think she’d post that though… Why do you ask?”

“...Is she dating anyone?” You shyly ask.

“What, are you interested? I have her number if you want it-“

“She’s pretty, but that’s not really what I’m trying to get at here,” You take a moment to think about how you’re going to go about this conversation. Might as well just rip off the bandaid. “Is she dating Han Dongmin?”

“Dongmin? I don’t know anyone named Dongmin.”

“Mm, Taesan?” You correct yourself by addressing him by his nickname. 

“Oh, that guy with the weird hair? I mean, he was with us a couple times,” Woonhak scratches the back of his head, trying to recall the events of the night. “But I don’t think they’re together. Not officially, at least.”

“I thought the contact I saw on your phone said Han Dongmin, though. Is he Han Taesan?” Jaehyun recollects the last time you went to them for advice. 

Cat’s out of the bag now. “Would you get mad at me if I said yes?” The laugh you let out is dry as you watch the condensation drip down the side of your cup. 

“What’s so bad about Taesan hyung?” Woonhak innocently asks, clearly lost.

“Woonhak, you know who he is right?” Jaehyun seems shocked as he seeks for confirmation.

“Duh, didn’t I just say he was out with my friends and I? I mean, who else has hair like that? I’m sure we’re talking about the same guy.”

“I don’t think you should keep talking to him, Y/N.” Jaehyun’s voice is stern from his place next to you. 

“Oh, you like Taesan Y/N?” Woonhak seems to finally grasp the situation. “You should’ve told me sooner! I’ve only met him a couple of times, but I could always invite you if I know he’s coming out with us! But then again… I only really see him when Minji is there.” Oh. He only shows up when Minji is there. Everything seems to make a bit more sense now. 

“Hey, am I even in this conversation?” Jaehyun whines, smacking the table with the palms of his hands. “I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” 

“Oooh… Are you jealous?” Woonhak wiggles his eyebrows at your best friend, who is clearly upset with the newly revealed identity of the main character in your dilemma. 

“Dude, I don’t even know why you’d say that. You know Y/N and I aren’t like that.” He’s glaring at the younger boy across from him, but his eyes soften when they turn back to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“If he’s dating Minji, then I guess there’s no reason for me to be talking to him anymore.” Your throat feels dry. You take a sip from your drink, which was untouched for the past ten minutes. 

“You’ve never heard anything about Taesan then, Woonhak?” The boy in question shakes his head no, waiting for an explanation. “Han Taesan; music major famous for his rager parties and picking up girls anywhere he can– If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t heard any word of him just by being on campus.” 

“Okay, so he throws dope parties and is popular with girls. So what? Don’t act like you didn’t have girls from different classes lining up for you back in high school.”

“That’s not the same as what I’m trying to get at. Han Taesan goes through girls like they’re nothing. And this is our sweet Y/N we’re talking about here— Do you want her with a guy like him?” At this point, Jaehyun’s visibly frustrated with his naivety. 

You place your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Oh, he’s like that? He just seems so… Normal?” Woonhak comments, seemingly in disbelief, that Jaehyun’s version of Han Taesan is the same as his.

“Yeah, I thought that too.” Your voice trails off. You wanted to smack your past self for thinking everything everyone said about Taesan wasn’t true. That they were just baseless rumors. 

“Sorry, Y/N. If Taesan is really that kind of person, I don’t want him with you either. Plus, Minji was practically all over him that one time so maybe they actually are a thing-“

“Not the best thing to say right now, bro.” Woonhak shrinks in his seat, shutting himself up by taking a bite of the pastry he had in front of him. “So do you have feelings for him, Y/N? Didn’t you meet like, two weeks ago?” You nod, ashamed to admit the way you feel about someone who only came into your life recently. Sure, you’ve had similar crush upbringings in the past, but this felt different than your previous temporary infatuations. “I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I think you should take a couple steps back when it comes to a guy like him.” 

“Normally I wouldn’t be one to butt in so heavily when it comes to the guys you like, but I seriously have a bad feeling about him now.” Woonhak frowns, feeling like he lost his previous appetite.  

“Hell, if he’s getting all up close and personal with another girl and then telling you to kiss him the next time you’re at his place, it sounds like he only wants one thing from you. You’re just going to end as another one of his hook-ups.” You gnaw on the plastic straw in your cup as Jaehyun goes on. 

Just another one of his hook-ups. And with how well-known Taesan was around campus, people would find out who you were sooner or later. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. At the very least, you could probably see him more often if you were friends with benefits– What the hell are you saying?

“Don’t even think about it.” Almost as if reading your mind, Jaehyun raises his voice at you. You’re startled at his tone, flinching a bit in your chair. “Fuck, sorry. You don’t deserve to be discarded like one of his one night stands, is all I’m saying.” 

“I second that,” Woonhak’s equally as upset as Jaehyun now. “Man, screw this Han Taesan… Han Dongmin… Whoever he is. Literally any other guy would be better for you.” 

“I figured you’d react like this if I told you it was him from the beginning.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, chuckling at your friends’ concern. “Was it so wrong for wanting to see if he isn’t the bad guy that everyone makes him out to be?” 

“...I guess not, but if you knew he was a shit person, why even bother trying in the first place?” Jaehyun looks at you with genuine confusion written all over his face. 

“Dunno. I just thought I’d be interesting enough for him to want something more with me.” Maybe if you were prettier, or more popular. Maybe just then, that’d be enough for Han Taesan to change his ways. 

“I wish you saw yourself the same way we see you, Y/N.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s been a few days since you broke down the situation properly with Jaehyun and Woonhak in the cafe. Even if whatever you had between you and Taesan was close to nothing, it’s hard to deny that it hurt a bit to think that your story ended so fast. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want things to end up like this. Rather than dwelling too hard on what could’ve been, you focused all your energy on cramming for the test you needed to study for. 

Despite that, you still found yourself wishing the two of you could run into each other, just once more. When you leave the elective class you share with Sungho, you scan around the building in hopes of getting a glimpse of Taesan’s hair in the hallways. When the library doors slide open, you can’t stop yourself from looking up from your monitor just in case he’s come to return his book. If Jaehyun knew you still had him on your mind after his scolding, he’d be furious. 

Unlocking the door to your shared apartment, you melt into the couch after another session of tutoring Woonhak after he’d desperately begged you to save him from failing his math class. The agreement was that he would pay for your lunch for an entire week in exchange for your help– You would’ve helped him regardless, but you wanted to see how desperate he would get for a tutor.

“Long day?” Minnie, your roommate, and friend from high school, greets you from her place in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Woonhak is impossible to teach sometimes. He gets distracted every five minutes, I swear.” You complain as you run your hands through your hair.

“Aw, that sounds like him. How’s he doing?” The girl rests her head in her hand as she leans onto the kitchen island, looking over at you. 

“Good, aside from the fact that he currently has a 64 in math.” You chuckle, closing your eyes as you lean back into the plush pillows.

Minnie snorts, moving to open the fridge and bending down to find a drink. “Want something?” 

You pry one of your eyes open to see the girl waiting for your response by the refrigerator door. “Why not? I’m gonna need something to take away all the stress of trying to get Woonhak to understand how derivatives work,” Minnie smiles at you as she grabs two cans, bringing them to the living room and handing you one.

“Beer? Gross.” The drink feels cool in your hand as you look at the label. “It’s all we have, unless you want to go buy something different yourself,” She cracks the can open and takes a gulp, groaning at the carbonation.

You pout at her, but you open your drink and take a sip yourself regardless. “You wouldn’t want to come with me?” 

“Nope, I’m all showered and comfy already. You’d catch me dead before you see me leaving the apartment at this time.” You laugh as you stretch your arms into the air before they fall at your side comfortably. “You aren’t going to shower yet?” 

“Hey, it’s a Friday night. A girl can’t relax in her living room anymore?” 

“Yeah, a Friday night you spent three hours hunched up in those old study rooms again.” She props her legs up on the coffee table from her seat next to you, scrolling on her phone. “When was the last time you went out? You gotta take me with you next time.”

Taesan’s party. You weren’t one to go out too often, and you weren’t sure about the next time you would given the way your last outing ended. “Three weeks ago? I don’t remember.” You bluff; practically every detail from that night and the days that followed it were etched into your memory. 

Placing your can down on the table, you get up. “I’m gonna wash up, I’ll be back.” Minnie hums at you as she looks up briefly from what she was watching. You picked up the bag that you’d haphazardly thrown on the floor when you first got back and made your way to your room. Opening your drawers, you sort through your sleepwear, looking for one of your sweatshirts. On the bed, you hear your phone vibrating against the comforter. 

“Ugh, no way Woonhak has another question. He said he didn’t need my help anymore.” Taking off your clothes from the day and throwing on your hoodie and shorts, you move closer to look at who’s calling you.

Incoming call from “Han Dongmin”!

Just when you thought you weren’t going to hear from him again. What could he be possibly calling you for? If anything, you would’ve thought he’d be throwing another party. Or maybe he dialed the wrong person? You let it ring twice more before picking it up. 

“Hello?” You curse silently at the way your voice shakes when you speak. 

There’s laughter coming from the other end, alongside muffled voices. Is this some sort of prank? You’re about to hang up when you don’t get an immediate response. “Y/N? Hi.” It’s been a while since you heard him. 

“Taesan? Why are you calling me?”

“Not the name I want to hear from you, angel.” You let out an annoyed laugh, sitting on the edge of your bed. He has the nerve to talk to you as if he didn’t ghost you for the past two weeks. “Haven’t heard your sweet voice in a while. I guess I miss talking to you.”

“Dongmin, what’s this about?” You feel your heartbeat speed up, much to your disappointment. Curse him for having you wrapped around his finger still even when you thought you were getting over him. 

“There’s my girl,” He chuckles into the mic. “You busy?” You’re taken aback at his words. His girl. 

“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” …Is what you want to say, but your cheeks heat up against your will. You feel your composure falling apart at the mere sound of his voice. “...No. I just got home.” 

“Come over then.” Now, it really feels like a setup. You knew there were other people with him; he could have you on speaker for all you know. He’s probably trying to show off how easy it is to call a girl over at midnight. “...Only if you want to. It’s only me and a couple of other people here.” 

“Like who?”

“Leehan, of course. And some of my friends, Matthew, Heeseung, Minji.” His voice hushes into a whisper as he continues his thought. “To be honest, there’s a few more people here, but I can’t remember their names right now.” He giggles at his confession. It’s uncharacteristically cute– you’ve never heard him laugh like that before. 

Kim Minji. Another name you’d temporarily erased from your mind. “Who’re you talking to?” It’s Leehan; he sounds like he’s a couple feet away from Taesan, but you can tell it’s him by his voice.

You’re silent as you wait to hear what he says in response. Surely he wouldn’t admit to talking to another girl in front of his girlfriend. But then again, maybe he didn’t care to be cautious when it came to things like this. “Y/N, duh. You wanna talk to her?”

“Ah, I don’t really think you need to-” You get out, not seeing the point in talking to his roommate at this point of time, but ultimately getting cut off by Leehan taking the phone. 

“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see, yeah?” His baritone tone shocks you, sounding much deeper now that he’s properly speaking into the phone. “Our sweet Taesan over here was hogging the joint while he was chatting you up, so I hope you understand why I had to pull you away for a sec there.” Ah. He’s high. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know,” You fiddle with the string of your hoodie as you apologize, even if there isn’t anything for you to be sorry for. “I’m going to hang up now, just tell Dongmin I’m going to sleep or something.”

“Woah, hold up. Your Dongmin called you for a reason. You’re free to come over, you know. You don’t need to smoke with us, it’s cool.” There are more voices in the background, but the phone struggles to pick up the noise. “Who am I to stop a pretty lady like yourself from coming to our house again?” You can hear him smile as he talks. 

If Jaehyun would be mad if he found out you were just thinking about Han Taesan, he’d be livid if he knew you were seriously considering taking up the offer. Rustling comes from the other end, and you assume it’s Taesan getting his phone back.

“Hey, don’t try and take what’s mine, Leehan.” There he was again, calling you his. At this point, the title seemed rather fitting with the way you’re still on call, even after your friends warned you about the man you were speaking to.

“I’d love to see you again, Y/N.” Your name rolling off his lips sounds foreign, especially when he’s been known to exclusively call you pet names. “Door’s unlocked if you show up. Don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” 

There’s a small beep as he ends the call, giving you no chance to keep the conversation going. You fall back onto your bed, groaning out loud. “Are you okay?” You hear your roommate ask you from down the hallway. 

“Yeah, I’m good!” Not really, though. You’re upset at how quickly you decided to get ready to leave the apartment nstead of getting ready for bed like you initially intended to. Standing up, you move over to the mirror to address your current appearance. You internally thank Taesan for not calling you to come over after you’ve taken off your makeup completely. You touch it up slightly, glad that it hadn’t worn off much during the day. Grabbing your perfume on the dresser, you spritz yourself a couple times with the sweet scent. The clothes you would’ve worn to sleep were good enough– After all, it's likely nobody will be in the right state of mind to care too much about what you had on anyways.

You make your way back to the living room, walking past the couch where your roommate was still sitting. “You going somewhere? Aren’t you in your pajamas?” Minnie looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, beer can in hand. 

“Yeah, just going to stop by a friend’s place real quick.” You grab your keys off of the coffee table before moving towards the door.

She gives you a skeptical look, raising her eyebrow at your explanation. “I’m not going to ask you any more questions, but don’t do anything you’ll regret. I’ll be awake if you need me to save you or something– And don’t come back too late!”

“Got it, Mom.” The two of you share a laugh as you walk out into the hallway of your apartment complex, hearing the door beep as it locks shut behind you. You internally apologize to Woonhak and Jaehyun as you wait for the elevator to come up to your floor. You were seriously doing this, huh?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t be going out of your way to walk across campus at midnight— But because it’s a Friday, there were groups of students roaming around, making their way to bars or house parties. 

The weather was perfect for the walk, albeit it was only about ten minutes long. Even in your shorts, you weren’t too cold on the short trip to the house. It was hard to expect anything in particular by showing up, but you prayed you wouldn’t feel like a fool no matter what happened tonight. 

Just as Taesan said, the door to the house was unlocked; you turned the knob and slowly opened it, revealing the familiar interior. It was significantly cleaner than the last time you were there, probably because they weren’t throwing a party tonight. In this sort of setting, it looked more like a regular home than anything. The led lights towards the ceiling were set to a cool purple, enveloping the room in the color. The speakers were playing music, but at a more casual volume; just loud enough to hear the people you were talking to without being too disruptive to the conversation, maintaining a chill background noise for the smoke session you walked into. 

“Y/N? Come sit with us. Taesan just left to go buy some drinks.” Leehan’s head pops up at your entrance, motioning you to sit next to him on the couch with his hand. “You know anyone here?”

Taking the spot next to him, you glance around the faces scattered around the room. You’re glad they’re all preoccupied with passing around a bong, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at everyone so shamelessly. There were only about six other people there, but you could only name Minji from her Instagram profile.

You shake your head no in response, giving him an awkward smile. “That’s okay, it doesn’t really matter. You can just stick by me tonight, then.” Leehan reassures you, oddly sweet compared to your last interaction. “Do you smoke?”

“Not really,” You answer. Weed wasn’t your drug of choice– you would’ve much rather preferred to drink, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. It wouldn’t hurt, right? If anything, it’ll help you take away all the anxiety that was currently weighing down your shoulders. “I’ll smoke tonight though. It’s hard not to join in when you’ve all started without me.” There was no way in hell you were going to stay in that room longer than fifteen minutes if you were sober. 

“Atta girl, I knew you would fit right in.” The brunette praises as he reaches to pick up the tray on the table. You watch as Leehan fills up the rolling paper, skillfully turning it into a neatly packed joint. It’s kind of mesmerizing– you can tell he does this often with the way he finishes in an instant, licking the edge of the paper to close it. Of course, he doesn’t fail to make eye contact as he does so, effectively bringing a blush to your cheeks. Leehan’s looks were no joke. 

It made so much sense to think that Leehan and Taesan were roommates. Leehan reaches into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a neon green lighter. He places the joint in his mouth, cupping the end and inhaling as he lights it on fire. His head is thrown back onto the couch as he exhales into the air after holding it towards you, urging you to take a hit of your own. 

You take the spliff from him, noticing how large his hands are in comparison to your own. Your actions mimic his; bringing it up to your lips and breathing in the smoke. You immediately cough at the taste, embarrassed that your body seems to reject the weed despite having done this before. Leehan giggles at you, covering his mouth as he rubs the small of your back to help your coughing fit. 

“First time?” He takes it back from you, holding it between his fingers as it burns into the air. “You can be honest, I won’t judge.”

“...No, but it’s been a while.” The two of you are in your own bubble at this point, as you pay no mind to the other people just a couple of feet away. Almost as a means of proving yourself, you snatch the joint from his hand, taking another deep inhale-- successfully without interruption this time, making you internally sigh in relief. The two of you go back and forth sharing it, alternating hits as it slowly shrinks, his spare hand resting on your bare thigh throughout the whole thing. 

“You look like a natural now,” His laugh is breathy; he looked dazed over. It’s unknown how long they’d been at it before you arrived. “You feeling it yet?” He questions as he looks you in the eyes; his own are already glazed over, making them sparkle more than they normally did.

You can’t hold in your giggle at seeing him in such a state. “You are, that’s for sure.” You’re not sure when the two of you moved closer to each other, but your shoulders are touching as you both rest against the comfort of the couch. “I feel really good.” 

The eye contact between you two is broken as you look towards the sound of the door opening. Taesan walks through the entrance with a case of drinks under his arm, taking off his shoes before placing the box onto the table, only after taking one for himself. His face lights up once he sees you on the couch, sending you a grin as he takes his place next to Minji. “Nice to see you again, pretty.” 

Oh, right. You almost forgot she was here– you were so caught up in smoking with Leehan that you weren’t trying to get to know any of the other session attendees. Not that anyone cared, though. Most of them were just lying around, either swaying to the music that continuously played throughout the room, eating from the bags of open snacks laid out on the table, or nonverbal on their phones. 

Minji tries to wrap her arm around Taesan’s as he sits down, earning a side-eye from him as he gently pulls it away. It feels like you should be jealous after seeing that, but your mind is fuzzy. “Looks like Leehan stole my seat.” His tone is passive-aggressive as he addresses the man currently curled up next to you.

“Your seat? Maybe you should’ve called dibs if you wanted to sit next to Y/N so bad. I got her fair and square.” Leehan bites back. “I don’t know why you left right after you asked her to come over.”

He moves to put his arm around you– you can tell he’s trying to push his roommates’ buttons, and you decide to play into it. You two share a brief look, mischief in your eyes, as you both silently understand what you were doing. Instead of pushing his arm away like Taesan had just done with Minji, you lean into it, resting your head by his shoulder as you take another inhale of smoke. The pair of roommates are entranced by the way the cloud leaves your mouth, swirling and twisting into the air before ultimately disappearing. 

Leehan moves the both of you to where you’re sitting up properly and takes his arm off of you. Across the room, Taesan can’t keep his eyes off of the two of you; the way you’re feeding into Leehan’s obvious moves on you. “Can I try something?” You’re a little lost, but you nod your head regardless. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the blunt from your fingers, now a little less than half the size it was when he first rolled it. 

He takes a long drag, pulling away while keeping the smoke in his mouth. You’re shocked to feel his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his and using his thumb to part your mouth open. You also feel Han Taesan’s gaze burning into your skull, but you can’t turn to look with the grip Leehan has on you. 

Leehan slowly pushes the smoke out between his lips, which were currently only a couple of inches away from your own. You inhale instinctively, a bridge of smoke connecting you as you do so. The scene feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s just the high you’re currently feeling. You don’t know when other people began watching the exchange, but you can faintly hear witnesses egging on the intimate moment you’re sharing with Leehan. 

After all the smoke has passed between you, he moves his thumb to your mouth again, caressing your bottom lip gently. Leehan wants to kiss you. You know he’s not entirely there as he gives you a dopey grin, biting his own lip as his thoughts are fixated on how pretty he thinks you look right now. 

As much as you enjoyed the way Leehan was currently making you feel, you knew that it was all a game to him. It was significantly easier to read him– his intentions with you are as clear as day, unlike Taesan’s. The way he spoke to you didn’t fool you; his words were laced with nothing but lust, and you weren’t interested in taking it any further than it needed to be. This, you were sure of. With Han Taesan, you could never be too sure about what he was thinking. You wish it was this easy to see through him the way you could see through Leehan. 

You know exactly what you’re doing as you lean into the brunette. He smiles again, seemingly satisfied with your movements, as he closes his eyes and does the same. Of course he thinks he’s going to get what he wants. It pisses you off how smug he currently looks when he moves to kiss you.

“Please don’t, Y/N.” Right before you turn your head to swerve the kiss like you’d initially planned to, Taesan’s voice makes both you and Leehan halt your movements. His voice is… small. It’s not as confident as he would normally sound when talking to you; rather, it sounded like he was uncertain about whether or not you’d go as far as kissing his roommate in front of him. Leehan scoffs in annoyance, as he turns his head to look at the source of the interruption. 

“Way to cockblock, dude.” The room suddenly feels tense. You can feel more eyes on you now with the way Leehan’s voice pierces the music coming from the speakers. “She isn’t yours, you know that right? Just accept it, Taesan. If she wants to sleep with me, she can make that decision herself. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You can’t tell if this is all a part of Leehan’s plan to piss off his friend, but you weren’t having it anymore.

“Leehan, I’m not going to sleep with you.” He’s laughing in disbelief-- Like he couldn’t believe anyone would turn him down like that, especially in front of people watching. You can tell his pride is hurt when he moves to the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as he can get without having to stand up. 

“Your loss. I’m sure you’ve heard already, but I’m a good fuck-” Out of nowhere, Taesan is grabbing your wrist and brings you up to your feet, dragging you towards the door. Your limbs feel weightless as he holds on to you, your steps gliding on the hardwood floors. You’re barely able to put on your own shoes as you walk into the night, Taesan leading the way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 

The cool air is refreshing; you take deep breaths, relishing at how nice it feels to be free from the smell of weed surrounding you. “Dongmin, you’re holding me too tight.” You pull back against his grasp, and he immediately drops your wrist, standing in front of you now.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what? I came over like you asked me to.” 

“Yeah, and you were all over Leehan when I walked in.”

“It should’ve been you,” You breathe out, just barely above a whisper. “He told me you left when I got there.”

“If you wanted it to be me, then why’d you let him do that? You know how he is.” He looks hurt as he confronts you, and you almost regret what you did back there.

“No, Dongmin, I don’t know how he is. And I also don’t know why you’re angry at me right now. You’re acting like I knew he was going to pull that stunt on me!” He doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way either. Your annoyance is clear as the night sky above you. 

“...Fine, say you didn’t know he was going to do that,” His brows furrowed as he interrogated you further.  “Why’d you lean in?”

“I knew you were watching us. I wasn’t going to kiss him either way.” You confess, not seeing the point in dancing around the bush. What you did could be seen as toxic, but you wanted to see if it would affect him at all-- to get him annoyed, jealous. Anything that could signal that he actually gave a shit about you. 

“Can you cut the bullshit? Do you want to sleep with my friend or not?”

“Did you not hear what I said to him? I told him straight to his face that I didn’t want to have sex with him– In front of everyone, for god’s sake Dongmin! Are you hearing yourself?” Taesan is quiet, not knowing what to say.

“Why does any of this matter to you?” You prod, impatiently awaiting his response. Because he likes you. Because you’re more than another one of his groupies. More than just a meaningless one night stand. You just need him to say it himself.

“Forget it, then. Where’s your apartment? It’s late, I’ll take you back.” He dismisses his previous outburst. You aren’t surprised that he changes the subject, but you wished he took the chance to clear up whatever it was between you two. 

“I can go on my own.” You turn away from him, knowing that if you look at him properly your resolve will fall almost immediately. 

“I’m not letting you walk back at one in the morning, Y/N. It’s not good for a pretty girl to go home alone like this.” Why does he want to ensure the safety of a girl he won’t even admit he has feelings for? 

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll just call someone while I go home, it’s not that serious.” You brush off his offer nonchalantly despite knowing you wouldn’t want to go back alone at this time of night. 

“I want to.” Taesan’s insistent; you didn’t take him as the type of guy to be so stubborn when it came to things like this. “It’s either you let me walk you home, or I’m just going to trail five feet behind you until I see you get back safe.” 

“You’d look like a freak doing that, by the way.” You tease, laughing at the image of him following you around like a bodyguard. 

“Oh, I’m very aware. Which is why I’m politely requesting that you let me walk you home.” His gaze is soft as he pleads with you for the last time. “Please, Y/N?” 

The next three minutes go by in silence, the only noise being the nearby chatter of the occasional groups of partygoers passing by the area. You never explicitly told him to go away, but he matches your pace as you make your way towards your apartment. 

Halfway through the walk, you realize that this could be your chance to talk to Taesan properly. A chance to learn more about him without any intrusions; to see the type of person he truly is. At this very moment in time, this is the closest thing he’ll ever be to being yours.

“I’m thirsty, Dongmin.” You blurt out, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth was, having had nothing to drink for the past hour. 

“Are we almost at your place? You can drink something when you get home, no?” His steps slow down as he turns to you, his hands resting in his pockets. He isn’t wrong, but you were searching for an excuse to extend the time you had alone with him. 

He’s met with your pouty face looking up at him, and he swears his composure dissolves in an instant; he would do anything for you right then and there. “…There’s a convenience store nearby.” 

Your face lights up as you put your hand out for him to take, telling him to bring you there. It’s things like this— you always manage to find a way to catch him off guard. Taesan’s not used to being the flustered one when it comes to women, but he'll gladly endure it if it was you doing it to him.  

The neon sign is bright in the dark of the night, lighting up both of your faces as the boy moves to open the door, motioning for you to go in first. You wrap your arms around your torso as you head towards the refrigerated section, selecting your drink of choice after some thought. “Are you hungry?” 

He shakes his head no, but his eyes are fixated on you across from him standing in your pajamas, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you stand in the middle of the convenience store. His heart is beating so fast, he’s worried you can hear it from where you are. “Why are you looking at me like that, Dongmin?”

The speed in which his cheeks turn pink is endearing. “Uh, your eyes are red.” Taesan clears his throat as he looks back to the various beverages in front of them, pretending to read the labels as he puts an end to his obvious ogling. 

“Thanks, genius. Who would’ve guessed?” You tuck the bottle you were holding under your arm, moving to look through the aisles of snacks and pre-packaged food lining the store. “You aren’t high anymore?” 

“I stopped smoking right after I got off call with you. I don’t really feel it.” To be honest, Taesan wasn’t much of a smoker either, but you didn’t need to know that. The smoke sesh was planned by none other than his roommate, and Taesan only happened to walk in on it after returning home from one of the campus recording booths. He only took a few hits before he thought it’d be a good way to invite you over; it was not nearly enough to get him in the floaty state you were coming down from. 

“Well, I still am. And I’m fucking starving,” He lets out a small laugh, watching you exaggeratedly ponder about which pack of instant ramen you were going to get. “Do you want anything?” 

“Mm, no. Not that hungry.” You squat down to the floor in an attempt to see the bottom shelves better. He’s glancing around the aisle as well, moving to pick up something from above you. When you turn to look at him again, he’s holding out a cup of Shin Ramyun in your face. 

You tilt your head. “I thought you didn’t want anything, though?” 

“I don’t,” He answers matter-of-factly. “This is one of my favorites.” You hesitantly take the ramen from his hands as you get up, walking towards the cashier at the front of the store without any further comment.

You can feel Taesan standing behind you as you both watch the worker scan your drink and ramen. “It’s going to be 3,000 won.” Pulling out your phone to pay, your face recognition fails once, preventing you from opening your Apple wallet. You send an apologetic smile to the cashier for the hold-up.

Your card finally shows up on your screen, allowing you to finally tap the corner of the pay screen– except you’re met with Taesan’s hand holding his card and paying for your items. “Thank you, have a nice night!” The worker pushes your purchases towards you on the counter. Taesan moves to pick them up from behind you, bringing it to a table in the corner of the store.

He slides out the chair for you, which you move to sit in afterwards. Taesan grabs your drink and twists the cap off, offering the opened bottle to you. You gladly accept, taking big gulps and soothing your cottonmouth. “I could’ve done that myself, Dongmin. Same with paying back there.” 

“I know,” Opening up the ramen halfway, he brings the cup up to the hot water dispenser, filling up the line inside. “You probably haven’t noticed it, but you’re moving in slow motion. It makes me want to take care of you.” His last comment is just barely loud enough for you to hear. He finally sits down next to you after he uses a pair of chopsticks to pin the cover of the ramen closed while it cooks.

“I owe you then,” You comment, taking another sip from the bottle in your hand. 

He almost looks offended at your offer to pay off your debt, waving his hand no in front of your face. “Just take it as an apology for me lashing out at you earlier… Sorry. I don’t know why I got so angry back at the house.” 

You want to roll your eyes and tell him the answer to his obliviousness. Surely he should know why. It’s because you like me, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s a big conclusion to jump to, but it’s the only reason that would justify his jealousy after seeing you and Leehan together. 

Taesan takes the chopsticks off of the cup ramen, breaking them apart and mixing together the noodles. Bringing a wad of noodles into the air, he gently blows on it, the steam rising into the air. You gasp at the smell, suddenly reminded of the intense case of munchies you were experiencing. He hums as he finishes cooling down the bite, bringing the chopsticks to your mouth. “Here.” 

Is he trying to feed you? Your eyebrows raise in shock, moving away slightly before leaning in, accepting the food he was holding out for you. The smile he gives you as he watches you eat is sickeningly sweet; he looks content seeing you so happy while you eat. Taking the chopsticks from his hand, you mirror his actions, except this time you offer a bite to the boy currently watching your every move.

It was cute the way he looked like a surprised puppy once he realized you were giving him a bite of his own. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him the cooled-down noodles. You watch as a blush creeps up his neck once more; he covers his mouth as he chews, looking away to avoid your gaze. “Thanks.” He utters, voice quiet with the way he was currently refusing to face you.

This side of Taesan is what truly baffled you. Despite your tendency to fall for people quicker than most, you were smart enough to catch onto the signs of someone liking you back. And in Han Taesan’s case, it couldn’t be clearer to you– his usual cool-guy image disappearing when it comes to you, his atypical moments of concern, his jealousy when it comes to other men, his current acts of service. 

Even to Woonhak and Jaehyun, it sounded like Taesan liked you. The only thing that made you question your theory was the fact that he seemed to have a tendency to run. To run away when things between you two became a little too real. But what was holding him back from being honest with himself? 

“Do I make you nervous, Dongmin?” You wanted to try and pry the words you wanted to hear out from him. 

Now, he reminded you of a deer caught in headlights. His head snaps back towards you, eyes the widest you’ve ever seen them. His sudden movements make him choke on the ramen he has in his mouth. Your hand immediately moves to his back to pat it as he coughs. Pushing your bottle of water towards him, he gladly takes a swig from it to end his coughing fit. “Why do you think that? Do I seem nervous around you?”

“Sort of. I can’t really think of a good way to describe it right now.” You pick up the chopsticks that were resting on the side of the cup to take another bite into your mouth. “But I feel like there’s more to you than what you let on.”

He’s resting his head on his hand now, elbow propped up on the metal table. “What do you mean? You think I’d be different than I am now?”

“Not exactly. In fact, I think the way you act with me is what I’d expect from you. It’s more like… With what little I know about you, I’d think you weren’t this sweet just based on how you look.”

“...Is there something bad about the way I look?”

You scoff, playfully pushing his shoulder. “You can’t seriously be acting like this right now. Everyone on campus thinks you’re hot.” It’s true, yourself included. 

“Oh, is that so?” His lips curve up into a smile. You both know damn well that he’s attractive. 

“Whatever,” Grabbing the drink sitting in front of him, you wash down the taste of your last bite. “I think I’ve almost got you figured out, Dongmin. There’s just a couple things I can’t quite place.” It’s only somewhat true, but you were hoping saying this would make him open up about himself more. 

 “If that’s the case, you could’ve just asked me, angel.” Taesan looks taken aback at your admission. In all honesty, he doesn’t know what you’re referring to, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to find out. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything, really.”

“Anything?”

“You realize you probably know nothing about me, right? I’d say the same about you.”

“What? That’s not true,” He pauses for a second to think about what he could possibly recall about you, only to find that you were right. “Oh. I guess you have a point.” He scratches the back of his head, feeling guilty agreeing with what you just said. “It’s weird, though. I feel like I’m comfortable with you even if we don’t know each other that well.” 

“So, are you going to tell me more about yourself or should we just keep pretending we’re friends like we have been this whole time?” 

He pouts at you. “You don’t think we’re friends?” 

“...Okay, I’ll get going then.” You glare at him as you clean up your mess, dumping it into the empty ramen cup. You move to stand up, only to find him tugging gently on your sweatshirt sleeve and pulling you back down into your chair. 

“Sorry, I was just joking,” He gives you an apologetic look before straightening his posture and turning to face you better. Your knees were touching now, faces only a couple feet away from each other. “Where should I start, then? My MBTI or something?”

“Whatever you feel like telling me, Dongmin. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” You shrug. You truly didn’t know anything about him from just your interactions and what you heard people say about him, which weren’t necessarily the best, to say the least. Anything he said would be new information to you.

“I don’t really think MBTI is that serious, but I’m an INTJ. I wanted to be an idol until I graduated middle school, but I don’t think that kind of spotlight fits me too well anymore. That’s why I settled on being a music major instead. I think I’d rather be behind the scenes instead of being on the main stage all the time.” 

You can feel a smile creeping up on your face at the way he’s genuinely indulging in your request. “I can see it. You being an idol, that is.”

“You think so? I don’t know. Seems pretty tiring to keep up an act like that all the time. Plus, I think I’m happy where I am right now,” Taesan looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs as he continues. “It’d be hard to not be able to see my family all the time as an idol.”

“Your family?”

“Yeah, I have two younger siblings back at home. I miss them a lot, even if I’m not that far from home. It’s kind of sad to think that I miss out on watching them grow up when I’m at school.” 

You place your hand atop his, making him stop his fidgeting. Just like that, Han Taesan felt a lot more real to you. He feels like Han Dongmin. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you then, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, sometimes.” He takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers now instead. The action makes you giggle to yourself; he really resembled a big baby. “It’s fine though, I text them all the time. My dad’s always sending me pictures of our new dog or them having dinner together. It’s not like I can’t call them when I want to. I’m just grateful.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I get it. It’s nice having some of my friends from high school go here too, otherwise, I think I’d be way too homesick for my liking.”

“Are you far from home then?”

“I’m only a couple hours away, but I’m kind of sappy when it comes to things like that. Like, I find a lot of sentimental meaning in different things, and my hometown obviously holds a lot of that for me, growing up there and all.” 

“It’s great you have people here you know though, seriously. When I first got here, I knew no one. I only met Leehan by chance at some club event I went to.” Taesan lets out a small laugh at the memory. “He was a lot different back then, I’d say. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s a good friend most of the time. Dude’s a lot more normal when it’s just us at the house together.” 

You think back to your few interactions shared with his roommate. How different could he have been if that’s the way he acts now? It’s hard to imagine Leehan anything else than your typical college fuckboy, but you initially saw the boy sitting next to you the same way, so you don’t write it off as impossible.

“I don’t know why I’m talking about him. He’s been annoying me lately,” The grip he has on your hand tightens slightly, but quickly returns to his previous gentle hold. “Who are your friends from home? Sungho and Riwoo?”

“Huh? No, I only met them last year, but they’re the best. It was some dumb assigned group project thing, but we get along really well. I’m usually hanging out with my friends Jaehyun and Woonhak, though.” Saying their names aloud reminds you of how they pleaded with you to drop Han Taesan just days before this– yet here you were, your hand in his as you talked about your lives in the middle of the local convenience store. 

“Ah, Woonhak? He’s younger than us, right?” You nod, completely forgetting that Woonhak was the reason you found out that there was another girl Taesan was currently entertaining. “He’s funny, I’ve hung out with him a few times here and there. He keeps asking me to show him what songs I’ve been writing recently.” 

This makes you think they were closer than they really were, but you knew it was just Woonhak’s usual (endearingly) nosy self at work. “Wow, Woonhak gets to hear them but I can’t?” You pull your hand away from him to grab at your chest, pretending that the realization broke your heart. 

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” Taesan takes your hand back into his, letting them rest where your knees meet. “I can show you sometime, just not now though. I’ve been working on something special recently, and it’s not perfect yet.” 

“Do you call everyone that?” His eyes meet yours, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

Upon understanding what you’re trying to get at, he waves his free hand in front of you defensively. “Ah, it’s not like that. Just force of habit, I guess?”

“Okay, so by force of habit, you mean yes. I got it.” Taesan opens his mouth to defend himself again, but you cut him off. “Don’t freak out, I don’t really care. We’re friends, right?” You laugh to yourself at the irony of your own statement. Yeah, friends who kiss and call each other pet names. So stupid. 

The chime above the door jingles as a group of very obviously inebriated college students come in, loudly seeking out food to satisfy their drunk cravings. “It’s getting late, can I walk you home properly now?” 

Quickly cleaning up after yourselves, you both make your way out of the convenience store before you run into more groups of people coming back from the parties that just ended. Taesan grabs your hand as you start walking, interlocking your fingers in his. You were surprised, but definitely not complaining. The way his large hand felt in comparison to yours was addicting; you’d never let go if you could. Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you use your free hand to see who’s texting you. 

2 new messages from “babygirl minnie”! Minnie: babe r u coming home tonight or do i need to pick u up from somewhere 🤔 Minnie: i’m going to sleep in like 20 mins lmk ASAP or ill kill u 😘 to: “babygirl minnie”! You: yes mother i’m omw back now 👍 u dont need to stay up someone’s walking back with me

You watch the screen as she hearts your message almost immediately, and you slip your phone back into your pocket. “Who’s that?” Taesan asks, who was peering over his shoulder while you replied.

“It’s my roommate. She’s worried I’m not going to get back safe.” 

“I would be too if I had a beautiful girl like you as my roommate walking all by herself at this time.” His hand squeezes yours gently as you walk, the night sky littered with stars. The route you were taking home wasn’t your usual route. In fact, it was the longest path you could take without straying too far off campus. Was it so wrong to want to hold hands with Han Taesan as long as you possibly could?

“I wish I got to see you like this more often, Dongmin.” 

“Well, you’re seeing me now. That’s not enough for you, angel?” His steps slow down, making you stop as well. 

“That’s not what I meant. It was nice to talk to you normally for once.”

“Ah, so my girl wants to talk to me more. I’m just a call away, you know.”

You scoff at his words. “We both know that’s not true.” If you even tried calling, would he bother to answer? For all you know, he’d just go back to leaving you with nothing but radio silence for days on end.

“…I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“What I want to know is why you treat me so nicely and then disappear for a week?” It might be the effects of your high coming to an end, but you suddenly feel all the frustration you’d previously felt when it came to Taesan coming out of nowhere. “Fuck, I hate to ruin the nice moment we just had but it’s hard not to say something when you make me feel like an idiot every time.”

In front of you, Taesan stares back with a blank expression. Nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing to you. Seeing his face just angers you further. “Hell, I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to not come running back to you the second you call. I look ridiculous going back to you even when my best friends told me not to.”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re thinking too deeply about things right now. Maybe it’s the weed.” Taesan tries to put his hand on your arm, but you pull away immediately. You felt like he wasn’t hearing anything you were saying. 

“Am I just someone you hit up when you’re lonely? Just someone who’s conveniently always going to answer? That’s the last person I’d want to be to you.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’re more than that to me, okay?” 

“I wish I could find it in me to believe you, Taesan.” 

“I don’t like hearing you call me that.” Hearing his nickname come from your mouth felt like an arrow to the heart, for some reason. It all felt wrong. You shouldn’t be calling him that intentionally; it wasn’t right coming from you. Taesan didn’t want you to see him the same way everyone else did, but he couldn’t explain why.  

“Even things like this, like calling you by your real name. You make it feel like you genuinely care about me, even when you have other girls wrapped around your finger the same way you have me. It’s like you go out of your way to make me feel special only to forget about me the next day!”

“Darling, you are special to me. I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” He couldn’t be serious. How did he expect you to feel special when, for all you know, he could be treating his next girl the exact same way? 

“You confuse me, Taesan.  Because just now, in that convenience store, you seemed like you were telling me things you haven’t told other people, but I know that the chances of me even hearing from you tomorrow are slim.”

“You’re acting like we’re dating or something. We were never anything like that, Y/N.” He spits back without thinking, feeling equally as frustrated now. The night air felt colder than it did before. Whether or not Han Taesan reciprocated your feelings, he was completely oblivious to his actions. Leehan was right. Taesan wasn’t yours, nor were you his, but you felt like tonight told you everything you needed to know. 

Your mouth opens in disbelief. “Don’t say that shit to me,” You turn on your heel, angrily resuming your way back to your apartment. Taesan raises his arm, debating on whether or not to try and stop you from ending the conversation as is, ultimately letting it fall back to his side. You look back at him after a few steps. “I’m fine going home on my own, so don’t bother following me to my place.” 

Han Taesan knew he screwed up. 

taglist: @minwrlds @luna2nite @taesancore @cherrytaesan @helpsplease

@taylorluvation @serejae @dimplewonie @nikiismyhb @amarecerasus

@tkooooop @lilriswife4life @marwoo2sn @brachioswrld @haechology

(comment / send an ask off anon to be added to taglist !!!)

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part Three)

Ledger! Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of violence

Words: 4.1k

Chapter Summary: The third session with the Joker, and as you try and delve into the man he is, you can't help the connection you feel. Seems he might feel it too...

previous part: part 2 | next part: part 4

Notes: Hello everyone! Apologies for the wait, took a bit longer because of Halloween, was having too much fun to write. But here we are! This series is def picking up the pace now and soon we will dive into some real chaos lol. Please enjoy :) (I love inputting bits of Arkham dialogue in these because i can >:) )

_____________________________________________

On your way to work, it seems Gotham is in shambles. 

There seems to be some type of announcement going on, by someone from the GPD. You could care less, honestly, especially since you need to get to work before you’re late, but what piques your interest is the crowds of people. There is an obvious rift amongst them. Some of them hold signs displaying the infamous bat symbol, crying out in favor for Batman, it seems, some holding children at their hip who cry for the man they’ve lost. The other half push back against the pro-Batman crowd, yelling things like ‘murderer’ and ‘fraud’. The tension is so thick you can taste it. These people might tear each other apart.

Oh, if only Joker were here to see this. He’d never shut up.

A woman bumps into you, clutching a sign with that bat symbol painted on it, with words beneath it reading ‘come back’. You sneer, and she retreats back to her other Batman groupies. How could anyone get so worked up over a man in a mask? Take the mask off and we’re all messed up inside. Batman had worn the mask of a hero, parading around as Gotham’s salvation, and yet he killed people just like his enemies had. Like Joker had. Except Joker didn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t. 

Mr. Dale may be right about keeping all this from Joker, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He’s going to get out eventually and see all this mess. They can’t hide it from him forever. Even if he’s on house arrest for the rest of his damn life, he’s the Joker, and they won’t be able to stop him. They’re just scared. Scared that the Joker may have won. 

You walk through the city, broken into chaos, all the way to Arkham.

———————————————

This time when you enter Joker’s little conference room, he lacks his usual straitjacket, and you’re both surprised and relieved that your bosses actually listened to you. His asylum garb has been replaced with the usual Arkham patient outfit, an orange baggy shirt with matching orange pants. Immediately, as ashamed as you are, your eyes go to his arms, which are surprisingly lean and toned, probably from numerous fights. You trace his arms down to his hands, each of which have a separate handcuff linked to a man made circle jutting from the table. You look at every crinkle, every callus, every line. Human hands. Dangerous hands.

“Uh, doll, my eyes are up here, ya know.”

Shit. You look up into his eyes as you take your seat, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m… sorry, I was just-“ You try to search for an excuse, but it’s clear from the teasing look Joker gives you that he’s not looking for one. You flush. “I’m surprised they let you out of the jacket.” I’m surprised your hands are so normal. 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t from my good behavior,” he clucks, his tongue hitting the top of his mouth. “Did you ask them to get rid of it?”

You can’t tell if he’s angry or not. “I did.”

He breaks into his signature, manic grin. Not angry. Good. “I knew I liked you, doll.”

Joker doesn’t say ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate it’ but somehow, this is better. It’s probably as close as you’ll get to hearing those words from him and it ignites something in you. You feel proud of yourself. Proud that he’s proud of you. Before you can return his smile, you remember ‘hey, wait a fucking second, this is my patient The Joker we’re talking about here’. You settle for a small smile. Be professional. “Mr. J, I wanna start this session off by just saying I think we’re making some good progress-“

“Doctor y/n, you seem to have quite the fascination with my hands,” Joker interrupts, a giggle rising in his throat. 

Dammit. Were you looking at his hands again? You didn’t even fucking notice. You’re not trying to. You’re probably just a little shocked. Again, it’s like pulling back the curtain, getting a glimpse at the man behind the act. And there he sits, with such human looking hands. “Excuse me, I’m just…” You search for the words. “I’m not used to seeing you without being all wrapped in a jacket.”

“Well, ah, they’re just hands. Did ya think I’d have talons?”

“Maybe. Or maybe, like, robotic hands. Rocket launchers for hands. Something cooler.” Are you teasing him? Your patient? You might be teasing him, just a little.

At your teasing, his smile shifts sideways into a smirk, eyes thinning. “Cooler? What’s cool is, ah, what these hands have done. They’ve been the cause of the end of so many lives.” He tries to lace his hands together, but the handcuffs keep his arms too far apart, so his fingers touch only slightly. “Now, ah, where were we?”

You stumble to find the words. So much for professionalism. “R-right, sorry. I think we’re making real progress here. Yesterday was a good session, and I’m hoping today will follow suit.” You bring out your clipboard. Click your pen open. “Now, why don’t we pick up where we left off? We were analyzing your crimes-“

“Spectacles.”

“Whatever you wanna call em’. Now those are only one part of the man you call the Joker-“

“That is, ah, my name, doll face.”

You hold your hand up. “Let me finish. We haven’t talked about you. About this person you present as the Joker. And yes,” you say roughly, before he can cut you off again, “I know you say that you and this character you present are one in the same, but nobody is exactly the person they put out. I mean, you did say we all hide behind a facade. So, let’s talk about Joker, the one we see on TV getting the best of Batman.” You scribble a little picture of him, smiling wide and in his signature purple suit. Jutting your chin, you gestured for him to look at it. “This will be the outside Joker…” You do another little doodle, one of Joker without his makeup and in the Arkham garb. “And this will be the you in here.”

The Joker looks down at your drawings and bites the inside of his cheek. “Not much of a difference, doll face, except that I look even crappier in here.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you proud of the person that Gotham has come to know?”

“Define proud.”

“Do you feel a sense of satisfaction over the person you allow Gotham to see? This crazy clown figure?”

Joker tilts his head back, thinking, and you can’t help but stare intensely at his neck, tracing down his throat to his Adam’s apple, which moves as he swallows. Geez, what is up with you and the staring today? Luckily, he doesn’t think for long, tilting his head back down to look at you. “I’m just fine with whatever I showed to Gotham. And I don’t regret-tah one bit of it.” Looking all smug, he smirks. “I’m not proud of who I am, I relish it. Bask in it. The Clown Prince of Crime, they call me! Nothin’ better than that, doll. Means I’ve made a difference.”

“You’ve certainly made an impact, Mr. J. For better or for worse.”

“And whaddya get out of all that, doll? That I’m some kind of egotistical maniac?”

“Let me do the analyzing, please, Mr. J.”

He grunts. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile. “You say you’re proud, but clearly it’s not enough,” you tell him, scribbling notes underneath the doodle of him. “When you get out of here, you’d like to go back to all that, wouldn’t you? Go back to testing the B-Man?”

“Batsy and I just fit so well together, dolly. We’re meant to chase one another to the end of our days!”

If you can find him. “All the stuff you pulled then, did it really amount to anything if you want more?”

“Oh, doll, it’s not that I want more. I’m not just some kinda freak gettin’ a good fix when I cause havoc. My point just keeps needing to be made!” He winks at you. “Course, I know that if I get out of here I’ll have to behave.”

You seriously doubt Joker even knows the concept of behaving. “B-Man would just get you again, would he not?”

Joker cackles. He laughs at everything but you’re always confused when he laughs at something you don’t find remotely humorous. “That’s the fun part! He and I, we’re like a cat and mouse, like in those old cartoons. We’re just chasing each other in damn circles and, ah, the fun doesn’t-tah stop until one of us falls.” With a cruel smile, he flicks his fingers, as if toppling something over. “And I don’t intend to be the first to fall.”

“And after B-Man falls?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose. Doesn’t sound very fun. Why, you got a soft spot for the Bat?”

“For Batsy?” Technically, you’re not supposed to be very vocal in your own opinions, especially when they do nothing to help, but wouldn’t it be good for Joker to know you’re with him on some things? Not that Joker has too much disdain in Batman, he clearly loves to mess with him, but obviously the two are on very different sides. You want to show Joker you stand with him. “Absolutely not. The Bat hasn’t done anything to benefit me. If anything I feel more… useless. This man in a mask gets to go around fighting criminals and gets praised and here I am busting my butt everyday and what do I get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You clap a hand over your mouth. Way to go overboard. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

The Joker, of course, doesn’t care that you rambled on. He looks amused. No, not just amused, he looks pleased. His whole face contorts into an evil grin. “Well well well, doll face, nowwww we’re talking. Why didn’t you tell me you loathed the Batman so much?”

“Didn’t think it important.”

“Well, ah, I find it important. Looks like we wanna both go after the Batman, don’t we?”

“Go after him?” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Obviously I’m not going to do that.”

He scooches forward. “But you’d like to. Come on, doll, given the chance, wouldn’t you wanna, ah, take the Bat down?”

For some reason, you actually think about it. If you really did have the chance, would you want to bring down the Bat? He was already down now, obviously, but if you had had the chance before then, would you have taken B-Man down? Before you can even dive into it, you snap yourself out of it. Why would you even care to do all that in the first place? Imagine you, beating up Batman? You’re not crazy. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Joker shrugs. “That isn’t a no.”

Things are going far from where you need them to be. “Let’s take this conversation back to you, Mr. J. How about we talk about the Joker in here? Nothing left for you to do except sit and think. You’re not out causing havoc, you’ve been stripped of your weapons and your makeup, what do you feel about yourself now?”

Already, you can tell the Joker isn’t too fond of the question. He squirms uncomfortably in his chair, muttering things under his breath that all sound nonsensical to you. For some reason, you kinda like it. It’s about time you get under his skin too.  “I feel like I wanna hurt someone,” he answers, clenching his fists. “I just wanna get out there and get back to everything.”

“Okay… see, you’re angry at being in here, and you don’t know how to handle your emotions so you’re resorting to violence.” As much as that’s probably true, you’re almost sure that if you were stuck in Arkham, you’d wanna hurt a few people too but that won’t help.

“Violence solves a lot more problems than ya think.”

“Not mental ones. I think I’m seeing what’s going on here, Mr. J.”

Joker taps on the table, a random pattern of noise. “And that is?”

You point with your pen between the two Joker sketches. “Both these people have unresolved problems, problems coped with by violence. Plenty of people do this, but they don’t go around trying to make their points to the whole damn city. These huge acts of violence are outcries and you don’t even realize it. You have no one to turn to to sort your feelings out with and this is what the outcome is.” You look back up at him, and it’s clear he’s confused. “I told you at our last session, you need company. Someone you can relate to, empathize with, talk through these feelings with.”

He frowns. “And what about you, huh? You’re, ah, just as alone as me, not a soul to talk to, and yet you’re not blowing up hospitals.”

Will he ever quit trying to analyze you? “I have other means of coping, Mr. J. Whatever happened to you… it made you hurt. And this hurt, it turned you away from people, even though we need companionship. We seek attention and validation and yet I fear you’re seeking it in all the wrong ways.”

“Who says we need companionship?”

“Human nature. Our hearts. Your mental state,” you say harshly.

His tongue pushes out his scar as he licks the inside of his cheek. “Feistyyy. I like it when you’re all, ah, riled up.”

Joker was really pushing your buttons now, and it was worse that no matter how upset you got at him, he’d find some kind of enjoyment in it. You really couldn’t win some of the battles he put you up against. Yet, the purr in his voice made your cheeks heat. You could never tell when to be angered or enamored. “I really do think that whatever happened in your childhood resulted in your detachment from emotion, and a distrust in people, and this mix of the two… well, it hasn’t been the best for you.”

“So, whaddya suggest? I go mingle with some of the other Arkham patients? Spend some quality time together finger painting and singing Christmas carols?” His laugh comes out as a sharp exhale. “I don’t think friendship is gonna fix me, doll.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest any of that,” you assert. “I just think that isolating ourselves from not just people but also feelings, now that doesn’t get us anywhere good.”

“Clearly,” he giggles, lifting up his cuffed wrists. “But I’ve been doing just fine, doll, aside from this little incident of being locked up in here.”

It was like the Joker just considered Arkham some bump in the road before he could continue his anarchy. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t have his heart set on going back to taking down Batman, no matter how good his reason. Especially considering, well, Batman was nowhere to be seen. Gosh, you wish you could just tell him. Maybe he wouldn’t see it as motivation, maybe it would shut down all his ideas. There was just far too much risk with everything. Say something, say nothing. The Joker was a lot of uncertainties. “But you shouldn’t have to be locked up in here. You don’t have to be if you just try and listen to me. I really want you to get better.”

“I don’t need to get better,” he growls. “The way other people feel, it’s just a soft spot for others to exploit. I’m already winning because nobody has anything on me. Chaos stirs something inside me, isn’t that enough?”

“No, Mr. J, you need more than that,” you plead. Why is he so stubborn? “Just a little company can do wonders. Just some faith in someone.”

“So they can do what? Push me down on my knees like some kind of sinner, making me beg for forgiveness? Making me change my ways? You really are crazy if you believe that.”

Joker is impossible, really. You don’t know how else to get your message across, how to make him listen. So instead, you think back on your deal, take a deep breath, and give him a story.

“When I was ten years old, the kids at school all decided they hated me so much that they all pretended I didn’t exist. I’d try and approach people and… and they never even acknowledged me. It followed me all throughout the rest of my school years.” You mess with your coat, fidgeting with the buttons, not quite able to meet Joker’s gaze. “I know how it feels when people hurt you.”

You wait, wondering if the Joker will give you a story back. You’re surprised when he opens his mouth to speak. “Once, ah, when I was just starting out, one of the criminals I hired managed to sneak up on me, knocked me to the floor real good. Kept babblin’ on about how I was a freak, how I’d never amount to anything, the heel of his boot digging into my back.” He stops, taking a deep breath, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to stop all together but he continues. “Course, with all his ramblin’, he failed to notice me grabbing a blade. I stabbed him right in the foot, and oh boy, did he scream. I gave him the nastiest beating of his life, I’m sure. Blood all over the floor. And right before I was done, I made sure to give him and I matching smiles. Die with a smile, no?” Joker holds his chin up. “I don’t need people. People don’t care.”

It’s only a single story yet you realize the Joker has so much behind him. So many incidents that seemed to have fueled the thunderous rage beneath his skin. This man, finding humor in the wickedness of the world, wanting to show that everyone is essentially just as rotten as he, has been torn apart over and over again. Society had crushed the both of you yet here you sat, a doctor, and there he sat before you, a madman. In your anger towards the world, you had sought to try and help it, and in his anger, he wanted to burn it all down. You still had hope left in people, he had let that all die away.

He said people didn’t care, but you cared. This was more than just a way towards a paycheck, you really did want to help him. That’s what you’d always wanted for every Arkham patient. Yet the others did not quite distrust people as much as Joker did. Joker didn’t have anyone for him. How was it that Batman, a murderer playing superhero, still had half the city on his side and yet everyone just wanted Joker to rot away in here? You think about yourself, and how much better you would feel if you did have someone, if you had been given love and support along your miserable journey. If you could give Joker the support you’d always wanted, well, maybe that would change something in him.

“We’re both pretty messed up, huh?” you finally say, deciding not to comment on anything specifically about Joker’s anecdote. No need to keep talking about something so horrific. Joker didn’t need that. He needed comfort. 

Joker blows air from his nose, smiling softly. “We are, aren’t we? Just a buncha freaks.”

“Freaks still need to stick with other freaks.”

“And who have you got exactly, Miss l/n?”

You freeze. Nobody. Absolutely nobody. He knows it. Yet for a moment you feel… well, embarrassed. Your hand creeps to your warming face, your eyes feel suddenly watery. You don’t have your parents anymore. No old friends from school or college, not that there were many to begin with. No coworker friends, shitty bosses. All you have is yourself and you hate it. 

Joker seems to notice that his comment didn’t go down well, and he holds up his hands like he’s gesturing for you to stop, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Uh, doll, I didn’t mean to pry…”

“No, no, it’s fine…” You quickly wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Just wasn’t expecting the question, I guess.”

“Right,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t, uh, meant to be an insult.”

You let your eyes flutter close for a second and take a nice, long breath in. When your eyes open again, you straighten yourself out, contemplating your next words. “I know how it feels to be alone, Mr. J. More than anything.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, your fingers drifting towards his own, which are splayed out on the table. He sits up very still, unmoving save for a twitch in his jaw, as he watches you place your hand on top of his. You’re not sure what you’re doing, but you need your point made. “I… I know how much you think you don’t need people, but people offer support and guidance, and if I could have some of that right now, for fucks sake, I would.” You sigh. “I don’t have a lot of friends.”

Joker’s tongue slowly traces along his chapped lips. You wish you knew what he was thinking. You hated how well he read you and you could hardly get anything on him. Finally, he speaks. “Well, you got one now.”

The Joker, a friend. It sounds like the stupidest thing in the entire world. This was someone who had hurt and killed and destroyed. Someone who was close to no one, the people around him with one purpose: to serve him. He had said how loyalty didn’t come for free, that it needed to be bought. If something so simple as loyalty was seen as a transaction to him, did he even comprehend the concept of companionship? He must have, at some point, whoever the man before the Joker was. But the person you were dealing with was not that man, you were dealing with Joker. Joker did not seem a man who connected with anyone yet he tells you how alike the two of you are, and you can’t help but believe it. Alone in the world, the two of you. Maybe he can’t yet bring himself to make a real connection with anyone but, goddammit, you wanted him to try.

Why not be alone together?

It would all be in hopes of helping him, you told yourself. Whatever relationship the two of you were forming. If he could have someone to talk to, not just in a professional sense, but someone who would really be there for him, you think that would help a lot.

That’s all this is. This is to help him.

You squeeze his hand. “I like the sound of that, Mr. J.”

—————

It started off as a joke, really. 

Joker didn’t want to be analyzed. The first night he had been brought into Arkham, he had been poked and prodded, as doctors tried to decipher what kinda pills to stuff him full of. Joker had tried to fight them off, but they had injected him with something that made him sluggish. Just a few hours later was when they had sent in all the psychiatrists to try and fix him. Joker didn’t need to be fixed. He was an agent of chaos, a force to be reckoned with, something they just couldn’t comprehend. Then you’d come along, and you were so lonely, and Joker liked toying with things that were easy to break. Except you’re nothing like the others. There’s something about you, this way that you interact with him, the way you don’t see him as some freak. When you stare at him, you don’t look at him like he’s a monster. It’s strange.

Joker doesn’t do friends. The term itself means nothing to him. It’s a meaningless word. Most words are meaningless to him, empty sayings. Yet when you look at him with those eyes, like he’s your equal rather than beneath you, Joker does feel something. Some kind of connection. He’s never thought about killing you, which says something. It’s the only way he can describe this feeling towards you, something other than the pure disdain he usually feels towards others. There is something… warm about you. Joker didn’t like it. Yet he let it happen anyways.

Long after you’re gone, when he’s strapped onto the metal slab the Arkham guards call a bed, he thinks on some of your words. You thought a companion would help him. Someone he could rely on. Someone who would truly be loyal.

He smiles wickedly to himself. You might just be right.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey

Lmk if you'd like to be added! Hope the @'s are working lol...

[hotchscoffeecup]

how do we carry on?

pairing: hotch x bau!reader

rating: m

word count: 4.8k

genre: angst, hurt no comfort

summary: emily was your confidant, your best friend. when she dies at the hands of ian doyle, you find comfort in your boyfriend, aaron. when you find out that she’s alive and that hotch had known all along, your world falls out from under you. can you and hotch come back from the decision he made for the good of the team?

*if this gains enough traction i might follow up with a pt.2 to give it a happy ending*

The criss-crossed lines of the tile floor blur together as you stare blankly between your feet. The tops of your thighs have gone numb from digging your elbows into them, using your cradled hands as a pillow for your forehead. You couldn’t go home, not until you knew.

Rossi had offered to go on a walk and get a coffee, but shitty lukewarm hospital coffee was the last thing you needed. You hadn’t meant to write him off, you just couldn’t justify doing anything to distract from the fact that she was on that operating table, that Emily’s life was literally hanging in the balance.

The rest of the team was no better off than you are right now. Penelope’s knitting needles clack relentlessly, the scarf inside of her purse growing as her hands keep busy so her mind doesn’t focus on how hard she’s trying not to cry. The last time you’d poked your head up, Derek hadn’t moved from the waiting room windowsill where he’d been standing still as a statue staring out at the cityscape. If Spencer didn’t stop shaking his leg, you feared he would wear a hole straight through the tile. JJ exits the waiting room as often as she returns, her liaising days quickly coming back, making her their only link to the operating room. Hotch’s behavior is no different. His cell rings every ten to fifteen minutes, no doubt the Bureau wanting to know how the hell this could happen. It’s the only sign that time is actually passing and you’re forced to accept that you’re not stuck in some fucked up purgatory-esque hellscape where time stands still, torturing you as your dear friend’s life teeters between worlds.

What you wanted, what you needed was for him to hold you; to place a kiss against your temple and tell you that everything would be alright. It had to be alright.

He couldn’t show favor to you though, not now. The team didn’t know about your relationship with him, though you believe a few have their suspicions. You’re all too observant for your own good. Not much goes unnoticed by anyone. So when JJ walks back into the waiting room, everyone shifts toward her to try and get a glimpse into her facial expression and body language for any sign of an update regarding Emily’s condition.

Instantly, you know something is wrong. JJ’s eyes flit from one person to the next, not lingering very long on anyone. Spencer is the first to stand and you follow suit. You close in, forming a small half circle. Behind JJ, Hotch stands in the doorway, brow straight as he folds his arms across his chest.

“JJ?” Her name is an anxious plea on Penelope’s lips.

JJ’s eyes drop to the floor as she presses her lips together. She takes a deep breath and lifts her eyes, yours the ones they land on as she speaks. “She never made it off the table.”

A choked sob echoes from Garcia as she falls into Derek’s arms, his features fixed as he stares ahead though his knuckles flush white as he holds tightly onto Penelope. Rossi pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as he mutters something to himself; a prayer, maybe. Spencer envelopes JJ in a desperate embrace, as if clinging to her will somehow make her words any less true. Afterall, how can they be? Emily can’t go down, not like this; not after all she’s survived.

Someone says your name. Your brow dips, but you don’t respond. You need to see Emily. Your feet move of their own accord, guiding you through the waiting room. Someone grabs your arm and you tug away from their grasp, set on pushing onward and finding the OR.

Someone repeats your name, and you can’t help but latch on to the deep tenor that belongs to Hotch. You halt in your tracks and close your eyes, tears leaking over your eyelids and down your cheeks.

“I need to talk to Emily,” you say, your voice small.

The way Hotch says your name is laced with pity and you hate the way it sounds on his tongue. He pulls gently on your arm in an attempt to reel you into him, but you resist. You bite your lip to still its trembling. Yanking your arm free, you press on into the hallway and stumble toward the double doors that read in bold letters: Authorized Personnel Only. Fuck that. You’ve got a badge, that’s authority enough. Before you can push through, firm hands twist around your arms.

You push back, but their grip tightens. “Stop,” Hotch urges authoritatively. You turn into him and pound your fist against his chest, a sob cracking free from your mouth. “She’s not gone,” you cry. “She’s not gone. She’s not—” Your legs tremble with the wave of grief that crashes over you and you can’t hold your weight as it does so. Falling to your knees, Hotch reacts. His arms fold around your waist, catching you as you collapse into the wide plane of his chest. Your ribs ache as your lungs inflate with each rapid, sobbing breath. Your vision turns fuzzy at the edges as you try and fail to slow your breathing. It feels like you’re dying as the waves of grief assail you over and over again, battering you, body and mind, in an unrelenting tumultuous current of sorrow and pain as the wicked reality sets in. Emily is dead. You barely feel Hotch’s hand in your hair cradling you against him. As he murmurs apologies and sympathies in your ear, you don’t see the weighted look he exchanges with JJ.

•

The funeral comes and goes. The day is too beautiful for Emily not to be there to see it. You sit on the porch at Hotch’s house, breathing in and out as you watch the daffodils dance in the afternoon breeze. You smooth the fabric of your dress down over your knees, the satin wrinkled from the way you clenched it during the service.

Your phone buzzes in your purse. The number of messages and phone calls you’d ignored continues to rise, but you can’t bring yourself to express any gratitude for their condolences. You can’t bring yourself to feel anything except the crushing weight of grief.

You picture Emily sitting beside you on the wooden porch swing. Last Summer, you’d sat here with her as the team gathered for a Fourth of July Barbecue. Jack had made invitations and delivered them to the team at the office. He’d been so excited and so were you. It was around then that you and Hotch had begun to toe the line between colleagues and something more; a morning coffee dropped off at your desk here, an extra visit to his office there. You’d sat here with Emily watching as Rossi backseat barbecued Hotch on the grill. She’d caught you smiling at him alongside the fondness in your gaze. She’d clocked you from a mile away.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Her laugh had tinkled from lips, ringing like a morning bell.

“What are you talking about?” you’d asked, trying and failing to school your features into a mask of indifference.

“I’ll tell ya, it’s a big swing, but if you hit it, that’s a home run for sure.”

You’d nearly choked on your lemonade, coughing and gasping; drawing the attention of the others.

“Wrong pipe!” Emily had called while pointing at you and clapping a hand against your back. “She’s good!” In a low voice she’d added, “Though I’m sure with him, it’d be just the right pipe.”

You’d elbowed her in the ribs and bust out laughing together. For the longest time after that, she’d been the only person that you’d confided in about your burgeoning feelings and relationship with Aaron. Through that, she’d quickly become your closest friend on the team.

A couple of kids shout at one another, laughing, as they ride past the house on their bicycles; shattering the memory. You dip into your purse and withdraw your phone, pressing a button and powering it down. The screen door creaks on its hinges and Hotch steps down onto the porch, the planks shifting beneath his weight. He sits beside you and offers you a mug. The scent of coffee reaches your nose and you accept it, thanking him quietly. Aaron had taken his suit jacket off and loosened his tie. He stretches an arm around your shoulder and draws closer to you. He kisses the side of your face and stares out at the yard.

“It was a beautiful service,” he offers.

“Aaron, don’t.” You close your eyes and take a breath. You hold the coffee with both hands, rubbing your thumbs up and down the warm ceramic. “Please don’t make small talk with me about this like it’s all so fucking normal.”

He sighs and apologizes. “I just wish I could make all of your hurt go away.”

A shudder runs through you and you nestle in closer to him, taking a sip of your coffee as you do so. “I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”

•

Her brown eyes stare back at you, though the photo paper could never capture the light that flared within them when she was alive. Of all the faces you could have seen up on this wall, you’d never anticipated hers being one of them.

Every day you stop by her portrait on the wall of fallen heroes. People talk about her less and less around the office. The team doesn’t stop, though your conversations are stilted and often end in awkward silences; no one really knowing how to carry on once the conversation slows to a natural end. You speak often with Spencer about the ways in which you’ve been grieving, the sleepless nights and early mornings. Derek is reserved. He’s angry above anything else. He feels betrayed by Emily and a part of you understands that. She’d not told any of you after all. You’d be remiss if you’d not also spent some of your time grieving in anger. Of all the times you’d stayed late after work, gotten together to hang out on weekends, or gone out for drinks, she had never indicated anything was wrong. You had told her everything, confided every one of your fears and hopes into her and you’d thought that the street had been going both ways. God, you’d never been so wrong.

“Conference room in fifteen,” Aaron says as he walks past you, hand grazing your back as he does so.

You smile tightly and nod, glancing once more at Emily’s photo before making your way to your desk in the bullpen, ignoring the fact hers still sits empty and unoccupied beside yours. How has it been three months already?

•

“Emily!”

Your eyes dart around the room frantically searching as your heart thunders in your ears. You feel the organ pounding against your ribcage, threatening to break free of it. It only takes a second for you to realize it had been a dream.

Aaron rolls over and sits up, threading an arm around your back and rubbing your hip with his fingers. “Another nightmare?” he asks, words tinged with sleepiness.

You nod, yawning as you rub your eyes. The dreams are further apart, but at least every other week her face haunts your subconscious. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some sort of self-punishment as life goes on and the days get easier.

In reality, you don’t know if it’s easier or if you’ve just forced yourself to become numb to it all, compartmentalizing the pain of losing your best friend because if you didn’t you don’t think you’d be able to leave the house and do what you do day after day.

“Are the appointments with the therapist helping?” he asks.

Another question you don’t know the answer to. On some level, yes. Talking to someone who knows nothing about you or her or anyone else on the team is good. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, worried you're going to dig open a wound the others are equally fighting to heal by talking about her or how much you miss her or wish she was here. On another level, you don’t open up fully to the doctor. There are some layers of this injury you don’t want to see heal and scar over. If you do that, it’s like you’re telling Emily that you’re over her death, as if it’s something as easy as that, something you just get over. No, some things need to stay fresh, to serve as a reminder that Ian Doyle is still out there. The man who took your best friend away from you and your BAU family is breathing and she’s not. You clench your fists, the sheets balling up in your hands as your resentment burns deep inside you. Yes, that’s it, the idea of him walking around thinking he’s gotten away with this is enough to stoke the flames simmering deep inside you.

You take a deep breath, mentally imagining the flames subsiding, and they do. They dial down, but they don’t disappear. You glance down at Aaron, who snores softly beside you. His fingers still curl around your hip and a faint smile graces your lips. He tries, you know he does, but this is exhausting for everyone. He bears the brunt of it at the office. He fought to be the one to meet with the team and conduct the grief interviews, not wanting a stranger to come in and sift through your friends’ and colleagues’ pain over what happened. God knows how much bureaucratic red tape he had gotten tangled in right after the fact, the higher ups demanding how such a blunder could occur right under their noses. Aaron had put out the fires though, as he always did. Reaching around his back, you withdraw his hand from your hip and tuck it by his side, not before pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

You glance at the clock before lying back down. 4:15AM blinks back at you on the digital clock face. In forty five minutes the alarm will go off and it’ll be another day at the office. Settling down into the pillows, you press your back into Aaron’s body, yours molding against the planes of his as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His arms slinks around your waist and pulls you in as if you can get any closer than you already are. He tucks his chin over your shoulder and his lips brush against your jawline.

“I love you,” he whispers and you relax into the safety of his embrace.

“I love you, too, Aaron.”

•

Nights are hard when Aaron is gone. Pakistan is nine hours ahead and all Hotch has to communicate with anyone is a satellite phone, the number for which you don’t have access to. Whenever Hotch calls, the caller ID flashes the word ‘Unknown’ across your screen. There have been several times you’ve missed him due to being asleep or at work. Each call missed feels like being sucker punched. Every time you talk, a part of you worries it’ll be the last time. You didn’t use to have this fear, not until Emily. Despite staring death in the face on a week by week basis, most of the time playing Russian Roulette with the Grim Reaper himself in each unsub you cross paths with, somehow you never thought he’d actually take someone you love from you; that he’d take down one of the team. You never thought there’d be a last conversation with Emily, and now she’s dead.

Dead. The word is a heavy stone, sinking from the cusps of your mind to the pit of your stomach. It sits there, a persistent ache idling deep inside of you. It never relents and it never allows you to forget.

There are nights you dream that Aaron is dead too, that somewhere far away and beyond your control, he’s dying on the ground, bleeding out, and no one knows. You don’t even know what he’s working on and he can’t say; despite your relationship there are still levels in which Hotch’s clearance supersedes your own and the need-to-know red tape keeps you out. Afraid to close your eyes and dream of his unseeing, you stare at the blades of the ceiling fan whirling lazily overhead of the bed you usually share with him.

“I miss you,” you whisper to no one; and you don’t know who you’re talking to anymore.

•

“He’s back?” your heart flutters in your chest, equal parts excited and anxious at the prospect of Aaron’s sudden return. You push off your desk and swivel in your chair to stand, rushing down the hall and leaving Reid behind as you make your way hastily to the conference room.

The door is cracked and a gleeful sound eeks past your lips as his tall frame comes into view. You slip in before anyone else arrives and throw your arms around you. Inhaling deeply, his familiar teakwood scent envelopes you just as his arms do. You move to pull away, but his arms tighten around you.

“A second more,” he whispers, and there’s an edge to his voice.

You write it off to jet lag and sink into his embrace, though you notice how slight he feels against you. Finally, you pull back and cup his face in your hands. The scruff of his beard is prickly and you laugh as you take in his rugged appearance. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with this much facial hair.” You swipe your thumbs over the hair on his lip and he tilts his head, kissing the inside of your hand. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before lifting them to meet yours. It's then you realize how tired he looks. The bags under his eyes are puffy and purple, almost as if they’re bruised. His forehead is creased, brow furrowed; definitely not how you pictured him upon reuniting.

“Aaron is everything ok—”

“I need you to know I would never hurt you,” he says quickly, interrupting you.

You purse your lips, brow pinching at the sudden admission. As your lips part to speak he directs a pointed look at you, the depths of his brown eyes wavering. “I love you,” his voice cracks, “so much.” He swallows, his throat bobbing as he does so. “Please remember that.”

There’s a hollow feeling in your gut, a chasm opening wide where every anxious and painful thought that you’ve tried to keep buried since he’s been gone begins to claw their way out as a thousand different outcomes play out in front of you. “Aaron, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer your question as the rest of the team trickles into the room, sitting at the round table or standing as suspense fills the space. It’s tangible. Everyone’s posture is rigid and tense in anticipation of whatever it is he has to say.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that impacted everyone on this team,” he begins, eyes firm.

Spencer shifts uncomfortably beside you. Rossi leans forward, fingers steepled under his chin.

“As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood,” Hotch continues and your ears prick at the sound of her name. Why would he bring her up? No less, her condition the day you all lost her. You all know this.

“…the doctor’s were able to stabilize her.”

Your lips part but no sound comes out as you raise your eyes to meet his. They meet yours for the briefest of seconds before flitting on to the others.The next words to leave his mouth sound far away, interrupted by the blood now pounding in your eardrums. “She stayed there until she was well enough to travel…given identities…”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel as though you may choke on it. Air doesn’t seem to be able to bypass it and you have to remind yourself that you can breathe even though it feels like all the oxygen has vacated your lungs.

Penelope is the first to speak. “She’s alive?”

Spencer’s brow quirks as he tries to rationalize what’s being said to him. “We buried her.”

You did. You helped carry the casket. You felt the weight of her dead body and watched it sink into the earth. If that wasn’t her, what the fuck or who the fuck did you actually put in the ground?”

“As I said I take full responsibility for this decision,” Hotch continues, eyes downcast. “If anyone has any issues they should be directed towards me.”

The blood pounding in your ears is deafening. When Hotch looks up, you search his eyes and can’t help wondering if you know him at all. All of the nights you literally made yourself sick from crying and he held your hair back as you dry heaved over the toilet and your body spasmed from the grief of losing your best friend, he’d known that she was alive. For a moment, you think you may be sick right there at the round table at the thought of it all. Derek is speaking, his voice tight with anger but you don’t hear him. Heads turn and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as a haunting feeling creeps up the back of your spine.

Turning around in your chair, everyone else stands but not you. If you do, you know your knees will buckle and fall out from under you. Spencer and Penelope are on their feet, moving briskly to greet the ghost of Emily.

Except she’s not a ghost. Her skin is not the cold blue-gray pallor of death, but pink and bright, the blood beneath her flesh very much pumping through a heart that’s beating. Her dark brown hair is sleek and shining, her bangs grown out and styled; her part now to the right. You watch her arms fold around Spencer and the way he squeezes her in turn. Penelope follows suit, tears streaming down her cheeks as she smiles widely. Derek stares on, features fixed in a cross between anger and shock. Emily approaches him with apprehension. An apology leaves her lips as she draws him in for a hug and his arms tentatively wrap around her. When she turns to you, your muscles tense. Those deep brown irises flicker back and forth across your face, searching for a reaction. You don’t give her one. Instead, you push past her, avoiding any and all physical contact with her, and dip out of the conference room.

You hear Garcia call your name and Derek shouts about having a case. You don’t care. You bypass your desk, not even bothering to get your purse. Your keys are hanging on a carabiner on your belt loop. Ignoring the elevator, you shove your way through the entrance to the stairs and move down them so quickly you’re surprised you don’t lose your footing and tumble down them. Down and around you go, your footsteps echoing as your heart slams against your ribcage. You slap your badge against the keypad that lets you exit the building, ignoring the greeting from the security guard at the front. As you push through the front doors of the office building, you barely make it to the bushes before you fall to your knees and retch.

•

A car door slams followed by the double beep which locks them. You close your eyes and inhale deeply as you prepare to face him, hands clenching around the sweater you were packing. A tear slips free from your eye as you breathe out and look toward the ceiling, as if the answers to why all of this had to happen are written up there. This is not how your reunion is supposed to be. You’d pictured his homecoming for weeks; thought about the outfit you’d wear to dinner and the lingerie you’d bought to wear just for him when you both got home, opened a bottle of wine, and made up for all of the time lost while he was away. That is how tonight is supposed to go.

Now you’re leaving, and you don’t know if you’ll be coming back.

The lock on the front door jiggles before the gears click into place. It squeaks on its hinges as it swings open. Five beeps follow and you can picture his fingers pressing against each button on the alarm system. His keys clatter as he drops them on the table. As his footsteps edge closer to your bedroom, you count each one. The sound that usually means safety and security, now sends a shiver of anxiety throughout your body.

He appears in the doorway, eyes rife with exhaustion and the bags beneath them puffy and swollen. His cheeks are flushed and his nose is pink, as if he’d been crying. Maybe he had been, god knows you had. His eyes flit between you and the bag you’re packing. His lips part and a small sound of desperation slips past them.

“Baby, please—”

You hold up a hand, curling your fingers into a fist. Your lip curls as you speak. “Don’t,” you breathe. You swallow the lump that quickly forms in your throat as you drop your hand, zipping the bag shut.

The inner corners of his brow draw upward and you can hardly stand to look into his pleading gaze.

“You have to understand—”

“Understand, what? Aaron?” You ask sharply, struggling to hold back the thick hot tears pricking the backs of your eyes.

He places a hand on his hip, fingers tucking back the fold of his unbuttoned shirt as his thumb hooks into his belt; a gesture you’re all too familiar with as he does the same thing with all of his suits. His other hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose. He pauses, inhaling as he tries to find the words. After a moment, he scrubs a hand over his face and turns his gaze to yours.

“I wanted to tell you so badly,” he says. When he looks at you there are tears in his eyes. “I hated myself, watching the agony this decision put you and the team through. I wanted to tell you and take away your hurt, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been fair to the team. Just because you’re my girlfriend, I can’t—” He turns his hand and slams his hand against the doorframe causing you to flinch. “Dammit!”

Your voice is soft, but sure when you speak. “You can’t bend the rules.”

It’s what you’ve always worried about, both of you. You always knew the job could come first, especially with him being the Unit Chief. You always understood that that meant no preferential treatment and that is something you never would’ve asked him to do. You just never anticipated it happening like this, a complete and total life altering mind fuck.

Aaron drops his hand and it slaps against his thigh in defeat as it falls to his side. “What was I supposed to do?”

You cross your arms over your chest, fingers curling over your biceps to try and still your shaking hair. You hang your head and a curtain of hair falls across your face, “I don’t know, Aaron.”

He kicks off the doorway, moving towards you with his hands outstretched. It happens without thinking, the way you flinch away. Pain flashes in his eyes and you feel as though you’ve been punched in the stomach the way it’s suddenly hard to breathe.

His hip is close to yours, his body angled away from you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulder as he looks down. “Don’t do this,” he whispers.

Your lip quivers, chin wobbling in response to the tears you’re trying so desperately to hold back. “I have vacation I’d been saving.” You pick up your bag and throw it over your shoulder, not daring to look up at him because you know if you do you’ll shatter into a thousand shards of glass at his feet.

As you move toward the door, you pause. For a split second, you entertain the thought of dropping your bag, running across the room he’d chased you around so many times before, and throwing yourself around him. You consider all the things you want to say and scream and cry about; all of your anger, sadness, betrayal, grief, and love. You crave him so terribly in that moment because his have always been the arms you’ve run to when things become too much to bear.

Instead, your chin dips toward your shoulder as you speak, but you don’t raise your eyes to meet his. If you do, you don’t think you’ll be able to leave. “My gun and badge are in the safe.”

As you make your way down the hallway, you have to bite your knuckles to stifle a sob just as you hear one leave his lips from the bedroom.

You don’t turn back.

[ominous-faechild]

✦ MY WRITEBLR INTRODUCTION ✦

Hey! I've been here for a while and I've somehow amassed a shocking amount of followers and mutuals, so I figured it's finally time for me to force one of these out for you guys!

(And you know... a masterpost... when I get around to it. 😅😭)

About me:

✦ Barlowe (she/her)

✦ In my early 20s

✦ A writer of 10 years ✦ working on novels for 6 of 10!

✦ Less dedicated to—but still interested in!—drawing, animation, photography, and cinematography

✦ AuDHD and a grey lesbian (aka I'm leaning asexual) ✦ (my writing may or may not be a special interest)

✦ I have a whole bunch of other neurodivergencies besides AuDHD but I don't think y'all want me to get into all of them, haha. ✦ oh, and I say "haha" a lot. I apologize in advance.

✦ I think I'm hilarious and make jokes constantly

✦ I use a lot of emojis and tone tags to help convey tone. Please forgive me if it's annoying, it's to cope with my inability to communicate. /lh /hj

Masterlists:

✦ General ✦ Worldbuilding ✦ Sun and Shadow ✦ The Arcane Rifts ✦ Rising From the Ashes

(will be added eventually)

My Obsessions:

✦ Fantasy, horror, mystery, action, and exploration of realistic characters' reactions to the things they go through.

✦ Fairy tales, mythology, and folklore

✦ "Ye Olde History" and language

✦ DIVERSITY!!!

✦ Explorations of "evil-coded" characters and abilities--aka, not just showing them as evil. Show them as people (for characters) and tools (for abilities)!

✦ Traumatizing my characters just like I've been

✦ Traumatizing my characters in ways I haven't been!

✦ Learning!!!

✦ Talking way too much about the things I like to the point that I need to make a whole separate post to share it so it doesn't clutter my intro post... oh, hey, why is this linked?

✦ THE AESTHETIC!!!!

My Aesthetics:

Those who've been following me for a bit probably know that I adore "the aesthetic" and try to make my posts look nice... even if there's no real reason to besides that it gives me a little serotonin. Here's my favorite aesthetics!

✦ Starry; night sky ✦ Dawn / dusk ✦ Sunrise / sunset

✦ Nature! ✦ Forestry ✦ Cottagecore ✦ Rustic ✦ Ocean

✦ Literally all of them, please and thank you

My Writing:

✎ Sun and Shadow

Everything goes wrong for Freya Ula when she leaves her simple life as a fisherwoman to get engaged overseas. Her ship gets wrecked, she finds out her dad's been hiding secrets from her for her whole life, and, oh, she gets framed for a terrorist attack. Wait, WHAT!? After the city's greatest detective is attacked and disappears before she could consult with him, Frey has to enlist the help of his kid and her would-be fiancée to find out who framed her and clear her name. If only Crow was half as good a detective their dad was supposed to be.

Main characters: Freya, Crow, Daleira

✦ Urban-esque high fantasy ✦ purposely very tropey in places ✦ however, as always, I love throwing in curveballs. Wonder what's played straight and what I'm going to emotionally destroy you with. Definitely won't be Crow.

✦ Slow-burn romance between Frey and Crow ✦ immediate interest between Frey / Daleira ✦ oh, look, it's a love triangle? ✦ JOKE'S ON YOU, IT'LL ACTUALLY BE POLY ✦ it's just... going to take a while.

✦ Lesbians, lesbians everywhere ✦ though Crow is actually genderfluid and uses they/them for the first book ✦ despite barely having anything written I've already plotted a bit of book 2 ✦ I desperately need help.

✦ Unsurprisingly is a detective mystery with action mixed in ✦ I'm not typically a romance writer, I excel in action fantasy ✦ please have mercy on my soul

✦ Lots of magic, it's high fantasy + victorian aesthetic ✦ (aka "gaslamp fantasy" if you've heard of it) ✦ Frey's got sun-themed magic ✦ gasp, I know ✦ Crow's got shadow magic ✦ wonder why this sounds familiar ✦ Daleira's got, hm, well it's also shadowy! ✦ spoilers 😘

✦ About to be updated en-masse for a writing contest!!!

✎ The Arcane Rifts

Ghosts of past tragedies haunt the town of Kavo after decades of neglect. Fantastical creatures desiring nothing but fear and destruction hide in invisible tears in reality. Gangs and the police are at constant war with one another, there's a shapeshifting monster running amok, and the mayor's assistant suddenly wants a disabled orphan kicked to the streets. A year ago, Gene was discovered in the forest on the outskirts of town, half dead, amnesiac, and unable to even speak the local language. As he had nowhere to go, he was brought to the orphanage of Kavo for a place to stay. Now Caspar, the assistant of the mayor and the man who funds the orphanage, wants him kicked out. When Gene's left to the cold, cruel streets of Kavo on his own, he has to navigate through a town ravaged by decades of neglect and intrigue. Has the corruption truly been purged from the government? Why are godly forces active in Kavo, a small town in a backwater country? And most importantly--will Gene survive?

Main Characters: Gene, Tazin, Mislav, Ludmila, Rada ❧ Gene and Tazin for book 1 ❧ the other 3 start being MCs books 2 and 3 ❧ I guess Nikolai is also a MC tho

❧ Industrial-era rustic high fantasy ❧ mixes fantasy, action, horror, and mystery! ❧ oh helloooooo "ominous feychild" origin? ❧ very strong folkloric and traditional fantasy inspo ❧ except I mean "traditional fantasy" as in ❧ "we don't understand this magic stuff but we're used to it" ❧ not "travel the world adventures!"

❧ VERY involved story with strong themes of discrimination, poverty, exploitation, trauma, and the recovery from trauma ❧ each main and secondary character is one flavor of discriminated against or another in-universe ❧ obviously I try to write it respectfully, but you can't really write bigots being bigots "respectfully"

❧ Has two "main plots" going on simultaneously; technically three ❧ I periodically give the reader updated "character guides" ❧ like they get more recent plot info added kinda like a red-string board to keep you, the audience, up-to-date with info you might've otherwise missed ❧ I think it's really cool and people seem to enjoy it ❧ I know it seems like a lot but please give it a chance

❧ I've literally plotted out pretty much the entirety of the first and second books, and know most of how book 3 will go, yet there's very little out for the current version of the story ❧ part of that is because I'm paused on the 3rd draft

❧ There's lots of timeskips throughout the first two books, but they're mostly to age up the protagonists! Gene, the MC, starts the series at 7. I promise it's not a kid's story though.

❧ The "secondary MC", Nikolai, is the police chief investigating magical stuff going on at the same time. They tie in with the main story involving Gene, though won't appear to for a long while.

❧ The "golden child" series I love more than SaS; however it's on hiatus because I promised people to work on SaS first and SaS is more popular as a romance-focused story. :/ ❧ I would never be salty about that.

Taglist:

For everything: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter

For Worldbuilding: @paeliae-occasionally @pluppsauthor @thelovelymachinery

For the Existentials: N/A

For the Avatars: @thelovelymachinery

For Sun and Shadow: @mysticstarlightduck @paeliae-occasionally

For the Arcane Rifts: @paeliae-occasionally

For Rising From the Ashes: N/A

For the Storm Avatars: N/A

For the Order Avatars: @thelovelymachinery

For the Magic Avatars: N/A

For the Fire Avatars: N/A

For the Water Avatars: N/A

To be tagged in tag games: @honeybewrites @aalinaaaaaa

Ask and ye shall be added

Divider by @cafekitsune

[fantasyescapes17]

Patience (Part 1)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Genre: Choi Seungcheol x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Jeonghan's sister so your last name is Yoon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Part 2

Series Masterlist

"I'm afraid the upcoming season will be Miss Yoon's final opportunity to secure herself a decent husband," the obnoxious woman remarked. 

She did not seem embarrassed that the subject of her gossip (i.e, you) sat immediately across from her in the lavish parlour and well within earshot. She looked straight at you and silently dared you to respond to her callous comment. 

You did not indulge her. You merely sipped your tea. 

"Oh, surely not," her friend replied with a hint of embarrassment. "You mustn't say that, Mrs. Patty! Miss Yoon still has plenty of time before we can write her off as an old maid. She should be perfectly eligible for another two or three seasons, I dare say."

"She might have been, if not for that darling younger sister of hers. I believe little Miss Mina is eighteen now, and will be making her debut in society next season. Am I correct, Miss Yoon?" Mrs. Patty demanded of you. 

You couldn't ignore a question addressed directly to you. You placed your teacup on the table and nodded reluctantly. 

"Yes, Mother believes that my sister should be ready to debut next year," you replied softly. 

Miss Patty looked triumphant. "Well! There you have it! Anyone who has laid eyes on Miss Mina knows that she is the loveliest little creature and I am sure her paltry dowry will not prevent an eligible man from proposing to her. Miss Mina will be snatched up  instantly- and then what shall happen to our dear Miss Yoon? With her younger sister married before her, she won't have a chance!"

The other woman frowned. "Indeed, Miss Mina is uncommonly beautiful. She will have her pick of eligible men."

You rose from your seat abruptly. "Pardon me, ladies. I shall call for some more tea and cakes- we seem to be running short."

You exited the parlour before they had a chance to object, and cursed your mother for leaving you alone to handle the guests. Mother should have known that these infuriating women would show up the instant they heard that the Yoons had arrived in London for the season.

You turned towards the kitchens, hoping that the maids would not offer to help and make your journey redundant. Luckily, the servants were busy unpacking and carrying in your family's belongings. It had been a long journey from the countryside to your London abode- but a necessary one. The Yoon family could not absent themselves from the London season when they had two eligible members of marriageable age.

You turned the corner of the main hallway and came face to face with the other eligible Yoon. Your half-brother, Jeonghan. 

"Jeonghan!" you called out to him hopefully. "Are you going out? Will you take me with you?"

Jeonghan was in the process of lacing up his riding gear and stood to greet you. As your father's only son from his first marriage, Jeonghan became the heir to the entire Yoon estate upon your father's passing. 

"I'm afraid not, sister- I am going out riding with the Lees. You would be required to bring a chaperone," he replied slyly, reminding you, quite unnecessarily, that you could not be seen in public in the company of other single men without a female chaperone present. 

You sighed. "All right- but could you stop by the parlour room before you leave?"

"Why? So that Mrs. Patty may set up a meeting for me with her third niece? There are many things I would do for you, dear sister, but subjecting myself to Mrs. Patty is not among them," Jeonghan replied calmly as he continued to tie the straps of his riding gear. "I am sacrificing plenty for you already. I shall have my hands full at the Grisham's ball tomorrow."

You blinked. "What will happen at the Grisham's ball?"

"I have heard that a certain Mr. Hessington has expressed an interest in you. We shall have to take precautions to ensure he does not find the opportunity to express this interest in front of your mother."

"Oh dear. What does Hessington want?" you despaired. 

Jeonghan smirked. "He wants marriage. They all do. That is the purpose of this elaborate charade of having a season and attending all these social events, is it not? To find a suitable partner in  marriage?"

"Jeonghan, there is only one season left," you reminded him miserably. You reached for your brother's arm. "You must make sure nobody proposes to me this season. From next year everyone will focus on Mina and I will be forgotten- and once she is married then my prospects will be entirely extinguished. You must ensure nothing comes in the way of this."

Jeonghan sighed. "You must be the only woman in London who is actively trying to make herself less eligible for marriage."

"And I have been doing a wonderful job so far. Mrs. Patty said herself that I'm as good as an old maid next season if Mina gets engaged before me. And she surely will be. After that, they'll throw me aside with the old maids and governesses and widows."

"Six months more?"

You nodded eagerly. "Six months more. I will be in your debt forever, Jeonghan."

He sighed. "You certainly shall be. I've become nothing short of a villain in my step-mother's eyes since you persuaded me to tell her that I had reduced your dowry. She has most of the ton convinced that I am an evil brother stealing his sisters' rightful inheritance."

"But we had to do that. A large dowry would make me attractive to men looking to marry for a fortune," you reminded him. 

Jeonghan sighed. "I know. All the same, I've set aside your money. You and Mina will have your dowries once this charade is over. All of the dowry, I mean, not the paltry amount I told your mother you would receive."

You shook your head with a smile. 

"I don't need it."

"Don't refuse money when it's offered to you, good god, woman, have you lost your senses?" Jeonghan said lightly. He placed his hands on his hips and smiled back at you. "You seem more cheerful  than usual."

"We're almost at the end of this charade. Six more months," you replied excitedly. 

"Well, do try to look less cheerful. For all the ton knows, you're a woman with little dowry, no prospects, a prettier younger sister, and getting on in age. People will begin to wonder what you have to be so happy about."

You smiled to yourself. 

You had plenty to be happy about. And Mrs. Patty and the rest of the ton could choke on their tea and biscuits- they would never find out.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Your mother maintained a tight grip on your arm as she steered you around the corners of the large ballroom on the Grisham's summer estate. 

Your arm was beginning to feel numb.

"Now," your mother said firmly. "Don't you be discouraged by what Mrs. Patty says. You're a young woman of good breeding and though you're not nearly as charming as Mina, there's nothing wrong with you. Lesser women than you have secured wealthy husbands, do you understand?'

You resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, mother."

"But you mustn't become lax about this. You need to consider what might happen to us if … if that boy Jeonghan decides to cast us out. You and your sister must marry well before that happens."

You turned to your mother in surprise. "Mother! Jeonghan would never do such a thing!"

Your mother had very little love for her stepson and she was not shy about admitting it. "Well, he's already stolen half your dowries, there's no knowing what he'll do next. We may be on the streets soon. Even sooner, if he decides to marry and his new wife decides to be rid of us. Your marriage is important."

You sighed. "Yes, mother."

"Now put on a smile and look a little more graceful."

You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders. It was a delicate line you walked in social events such as these. You had to look dignified and well-mannered enough to satisfy your mother, but not so captivating that you captured the attention of any potential suitors. It only got easier with time. You were older and consequently less attractive than the young girls in the room, and the ton would certainly have heard the news of your reduced dowry. 

You tried not to make eye contact with any men as you quietly moved through the crowd like a wallflower. You were suddenly and abruptly met by a very tall man that appeared before you. 

"Miss Yoon. May I have the pleasure of the next dance?"

You breathed a sigh of relief as you recognised the man. He had a mischievous smile on his face. "Mr. Kim! Oh thank heavens, I was worried that it was an actual suitor."

Mr. Kim Mingyu had the decency to look offended as he took your hand and swept you skillfully towards the dance floor for a lively waltz. 

"Do you think that we would allow an actual suitor within ten feet of you? We've been doing this for three years now, Miss Yoon. We're professionals now, I dare say. There's one of us stationed in each section of the room and we are ready to intervene in case any man shows the slightest bit of  interest towards you."

You laughed. "Well, don't I feel well-protected."

"You are."

"I'm very sorry that you all have to spend your social gatherings watching out for me in this manner. Hopefully, this is the last season that this will be required," you apologised honestly. 

"Nonsense. I rather enjoy it," Mingyu chuckled. 

You shook your head. "I don't believe you. Surely you would rather save your dances for a woman in whom you have a genuine interest? I notice that the young lady in cerulean blue over there cannot keep her eyes away from us."

Mingyu cleared his throat and took a quick peek in the direction you nodded your head. "Ah. Well, that can't be helped. She's better off without me in any case, I've garnered a reputation as a rake. Dancing with me would only tarnish her prospects."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he replied simply. 

"I suppose I cannot argue- being in the unique position of not caring about my own prospects makes me a poor judge. May I ask what you have done to have yourself labelled as a rake by the ton?" you enquired. 

Mingyu smiled. "Other than being naturally charming, rich and handsome?"

"I'm afraid those qualities make for an eligible bachelor, Mr. Kim, not a rake."

Mingyu merely chuckled without offering further explanation as the dance came to an end. He gracefully led you off to the side, where you were drawn into a conversation with some other co-conspirators- namely Mr. Lee Seokmin and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. 

"Miss Yoon," was the cheerful greeting you received from a grinning Mr. Kwon. "I hope your quest to prevent all offers of matrimony fares well? I am pleased to report that the ton seems to be losing interest in you."

You smiled gratefully. "You bring glad tidings, Mr. Kwon. But I heard that Mr. Hessington…."

"Mr. Hessington is being informed of your reduced dowry and impending state of poverty at this very moment," Mr. Lee Seokmin reassured you. His eyes subtly darted towards the other end of the ballroom where your half-brother was in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hessington himself. You could not hear what was being spoken, but there was no mistaking Mr. Hessington's alarmed expression at whatever Jeonghan said to him.  

"Delightful," you replied. 

"We have further pleasant tidings for you," Mr. Kwon continued. His hand slid into his waistcoat and he cast a furtive glance around before withdrawing something and slipping it surreptitiously into your hands. You tucked it away into the folds of your gown hastily- but not before ascertaining that it was a small envelope. 

Your eyes brightened in anticipation. "Could it be…"

"Indeed," Mr. Kwon replied with a large smile. "I was able to stop by a certain estate that shall remain unnamed on my way to London, and catch up with a dear friend of ours. He bid me to deliver a letter by hand that he dared not risk sending by post, lest it be intercepted by unwelcome parties. It will be safe, I trust, in your possession?” 

You couldn’t hold back your smile. “Very safe, indeed.”

“I certainly hope so, because your mother approaches us and she looks rather red in the face.”

Your plans to sneak away to a quiet corner and read your letter were thwarted instantly by the approach of your mother. She was flushed and huffing, although she attempted to calm herself when she noticed that you were in the company of Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- while they were not the most eligible bachelors in the room, they were eligible and rich enough for your mother to greet them with her politest smile.  

“Mr. Kwon, Mr. Lee. What a pleasure to see you in London,” she tittered.  “I do hope you will find the time to call on us for tea later this week."

They both greeted her politely and accepted her invitation with the usual graces, before your mother took hold of your arm and steered you away from them. 

"Is everything all right, mother?" you asked, concerned. 

"All right? I have just heard- the most terrible news- Mr. Hessington had expressed an interest in courting you but that odious brother of yours has gone and told him about your dowry! I have half a mind to expose that conniving little man for what he is- a thief, a monster-"

"Mother, you must calm down," you insisted gently. "There must be some misunderstanding-"

Your mother was distraught. "Oh, what shall we do? If you are not married this season- we shall be left on the streets unless Mina marries exceedingly well but if that boy Jeonghan continues to ruin her prospects as well-"

"Nobody could ruin Mina's prospects. She is the sweetest, prettiest creature and you know everyone will fall in love with her when she comes into society. Perhaps we should accept that my time is coming to an end, mother…."

"No! No, you cannot give up, my dear. We shall find you a husband this season!"

You sighed. "Yes, mother-"

"Go, go back to Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- perhaps one of them will ask you to dance, they seem like nice young gentlemen and the evening is not yet over…"

You extricated yourself from your mother- but instead of returning to company, you slid along the length of the ballroom until you succeeded in finding a remote and private corner behind a table of refreshments and some heavy curtains. You eagerly pulled out the small envelope Soonyoung had given you and unfolded its contents as your heart swelled in anticipation. 

My love,

It has been too long since we last spoke. I hope you and your family are well. Although I have met your brother a few times this year and heard news of you from him, it saddens me that you must always be so far away from me. 

I will be travelling to London on business next week- I may not be able to stay the entire season, as you know well, but may I be so bold as to ask for a glimpse of your beautiful smile while I am in the city? I would be honoured if you would grant me a dance at Almack's on Thursday night. But do not put yourself to trouble, my love- if the thought of meeting me in public makes you uneasy or if your feelings for me have changed during our separation, know that I would never resent you. I desire nothing more than your happiness and well-being. 

Forever yours

S. 

Your heart danced wildly as you tucked the contents back into the folds of your dress. It had been too long since you had received a letter from Seungcheol- a few close calls with your nosy mother intercepting your mail had made it too dangerous for him to write to you by normal post. 

But to finally see him again after so many months apart! And on Thursday, so soon! You had to turn your face to the wall to hide your giddy smile. Three years of a secret, clandestine courtship had not diminished your adoration of the man in the slightest. You still felt as strongly for Mr. Choi Seungcheol as you had the very first time he smiled at you with his bright smile and took your hand in his gentle grasp for your very first dance, so many years ago. 

You took a moment to compose yourself (it would not be appropriate to be seen looking so giddy) and slipped out of your corner. Your brother had been poking around at the refreshment table and he approached you when he saw you- Jeonghan's expression was grim. 

"I think I shall avoid dining at home for the time being," Jeonghan told you drily. "I fear my step-mother may really intend to poison me for what I have done tonight."

You sighed. You were not ignorant of how much Jeonghan had sacrificed for your sake. "I am sorry for the trouble I have put you through because of all this, Jeonghan. I will try to calm my mother."

His eyes softened. "I don't require an apology from you, sister."

"Gratitude, then?" you offered gently. 

"If you could keep your mother away from any sharp objects or poisonous substances, that should be sufficient recompense for now," he replied with a chuckle. "So. I heard from Mr. Kwon that a certain Mr. Choi will be in London in a few days."

You bit back a smile. "Yes."

Jeonghan patted you on the arm gently. "I am glad you will have a chance to see him. Perhaps we can arrange to have your mother occupied elsewhere for the evening…"

You shook your head. "I will handle mother myself, Jeonghan," you reassured him. "You have done plenty. "

Jeonghan looked contemplative for a moment. "I sincerely hope you and Seungcheol can be happy together soon, sister. I would not have put my own reputation at stake if I did not hold his character- and yours-  in the highest regard."

You smiled. A genuine compliment from Jeonghan was rare, and that made it all the more precious. You squeezed his hand on your arm. 

"Thank you, brother."

"Now- let us walk away quickly. I see Mrs. Patty approaches and she has that idiotic niece of hers right behind her…"

—----------------------------------------------------

The days trickled past slowly and painfully until Thursday evening finally arrived. Through your own clever manipulations, you had persuaded your mother to attend a card party being held by Mrs. Patty and to allow you to attend Almack's alone chaperoned by Viscountess Hong- one of the few married young women that your mother could be persuaded to entrust you with. 

"I hope, Viscountess, that you will recommend my daughter to some of your acquaintances," your mother pressed. "You have done so well for yourself. I hope you can be a positive influence on her."

Viscountess Hong smiled. She had not been married long; her husband, Viscount Joshua Hong, had been renowned as one of the most eligible bachelors in London not long ago. It did not come as a surprise to anyone when their marriage was announced in the papers, however. The gossip-minded members of the ton had long known that Viscount Hong was smitten with a young lady of humble origins. 

Your mother admired any woman who could achieve the difficult task of marrying above her station. 

"I will be a responsible and careful chaperone, Mrs. Yoon. You may rest assured that I will take excellent care of your daughter for the evening," the Viscountess promised. 

Your mother waved you off and you could not help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as you climbed into the Hongs' carriage. Viscount Hong was waiting outside and greeted you in his usual kind and pleasant manner. 

You thanked him nervously. "I'm very grateful for your invitation. I was worried that my mother would not be persuaded to let me visit Almack’s tonight without a female  chaperone."

Viscountess Hong took your hand warmly. "Of course, we would never allow that! I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol often this past year, and the man never smiles quite as brightly as when someone mentions your name. I'm afraid the man is quite devoted to you, Miss Yoon."

You felt shy, and bit your lip. "I-I do care for him a great deal."

Viscountess Hong beamed.

It was a pleasant carriage ride to Almack's- the Hongs kept you engaged in conversation and their friendly presence helped calm your nerves. As Viscountess Hong told you about the day she first met her husband, your mind drifted back to your own fateful introduction to Mr. Choi Seungcheol four years ago. 

—------------------------------------

The estate was magnificent. 

"Oh! A marble fountain! It is so beautiful!" your younger sister Mina cried out in delight at the sight of the immaculate gardens and the enormous white fountain that towered in the centre, gently spouting water. 

Your mother (despite being notoriously difficult to impress) also looked at the enormous estate and manor appreciatively. "Indeed, this estate is quite lovely. Perhaps we should plant some flowers like those back home. You say this manor belongs to Mr. Choi?" she asked your brother. 

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes- Mr. Choi Seungcheol was a close friend of mine at Oxford. His father passed away two years ago and he inherited the estate. He was more than happy to invite us all to stay at the manor while I take care of some business here in Derbyshire.  The weather is lovely here this time of year."

"Very generous," your mother remarked thoughtfully as a servant unloaded the marriage behind you. "And… is there a Mrs. Choi?"

Jeonghan smiled tightly. "There was. she passed away in childbirth four years ago."

"He is a widower, then. And has a child," your mother remarked, displeased. 

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes."

"Pity," your mother whispered to you, as she took your arm and walked towards the manor out of Jeonghan's earshot. "I was almost beginning to imagine you being mistress of this lovely estate. But you may find a way to have a marble fountain without having to marry a widower."

You blinked at your mother in surprise. It was no secret that she had not been your father's first wife. 

"But you married a widower," you said, surprised. 

Your mother shot you a sharp look. 

"Exactly, my dear."

Before you could question her further on this hypocritical viewpoint, the entrance to the manor burst open. Servants emerged to unload your carriage and carry your things inside. They were followed by a tall, well-dressed man with a handsome smile that you barely managed to glimpse before your view was blocked by your brother stepping into your path. 

“Seungcheol!” 

The two men shook hands warmly, and you could see from Jeonghan’s unusually relaxed manner that he carried a great deal of affection and trust for Mr. Choi. They exchanged greetings for a moment, before Jeonghan finally stepped aside and allowed you to feast your eyes on Mr. Choi properly. 

“Seungcheol- allow me to introduce you to my family. My father’s wife, Mrs. Yoon- and my two sisters, Miss Yoon and Miss Mina.” 

You curtsied without taking your eyes off the startlingly handsome man. Seungcheol bowed politely in return. His manner was calm and suited a respectable and confident man- but there was something in his large eyes that sparkled with liveliness and joy. You had seen handsome men before- Jeonghan often had friends over for dinner and you had spent time in society. 

But no man had ever made you feel quite so giddy. 

“We are very grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Choi,” your mother said performatively. “Your estate is lovely. My daughters and I were just discussing how delightful that marble fountain is.” 

Seungcheol smiled and glanced at the fountain. “Ah- yes, that was my own personal selection. I am rather fond of it myself. And allow me to say, madam, that it is a pleasure to be host to you and your lovely daughters. Your arrival has been long-awaited- not only by myself but by certain other members of my household.” 

It was only then that you finally tore your eyes away from Mr. Choi’s smile and noticed that another person stood behind him. A small, dark-haired boy of no more than four years old with the same bright eyes as Mr. Choi was clinging shyly to his father’s legs. 

“Allow me to introduce my son- Jiwoo.” 

-------------------------

A/N: So this is my first time posting for Seventeen! I used to have a moderately successful fanfiction blog for a different kpop group on here a few years ago but I took a break and just wanted to start afresh since Seventeen is the only group I keep up with these days, and I miss writing.

I mostly plan to write some fantasy AUs over the next couple months (got some more regency, royal and other fantasy ideas brewing) so we'll see how it goes.

[depression-pie]

Okay these ideas have NOT left my head so here’s two new Gravity Falls AUs inspired by @acerobot’s fanart of a Wandavision-esque Billford AU

The FIRST idea goes as follows:

Ford doesn’t stop working on the portal after Fidds leaves. He and Bill work together to take down the barrier around Gravity Falls, Bill putting together some half-assed excuse to justify why they would need to do it.

They get the portal started up and Bill starts the apocalypse, BUT he puts a new barrier around the town essentially shielding it from Weirdmageddon instead of containing it. He removes Ford’s memories of the betrayal, and since the town is safe from the chaos, Ford doesn’t realize anything is wrong.

So he and Bill have this little domestic life in their cabin in the woods, and he’s completely oblivious to the fact that outside the town is the end of the world.

But now Gravity Falls is considered somewhat of a safe haven for survivors, so people start moving there to get away from all the chaos, and Ford is reunited with his family, who immediately realize something’s wrong.

Will he realize what his husband’s been up to this whole time? Who knows

The SECOND idea is EVEN ANGSTIER

Because what if Bill trapped Ford in a fantasy bubble during Weirdmageddon. A fantasy version of Gravity Falls where everything is perfect, he’s not fighting with his brother, he’s still friends with Fiddleford, he has a perfect little family and a perfect husband and a perfect life.

And he doesn’t even question it, because the fantasy starts replacing his memories with new fabricated ones, fake memories of his perfect life with his perfect family.

Until Stan and the twins show up, and they’re terrified because they just witnessed Bill start a literal apocalypse and yet there he is, smooching it up with Ford of all people. And he acts like it’s all normal and fine, because to him it IS normal, but they all know it’s not.

Ford is confused why his family is acting weird, not realizing that they’re not the fake family he’s gotten used to, the fake Stan he talks to all the time, the fake Dipper and Mabel who are best friends with his fake kids.

And they almost want to stay too, because they want to live this perfect life, but they know it’s not real, so they do what they can to escape and rescue Ford.

And when they finally do burst the bubble, Ford is absolutely RUINED because he realizes it was all a lie, his perfect family, his perfect husband, his perfect kids weren’t real and he doesn’t know what to do with himself because he misses them.

Even though they’re not real he still has some of the fake memories, going on fake monster hunts with them, teaching them how to play the fake piano, watching them play with their fake friends and the fake Dipper and fake Mabel.

And even though it was all a lie he misses it and he’s heartbroken over the fact that, even though they were never real, he’ll never get to see that perfect family ever again.

And I’m sure when they face off against Bill, Bill tries to rope him back into it, promising to bring back their perfect family and their perfect life, promising that it could last forever if he gave up the equation.

And even after they defeat Bill he’s still plagued by dreams about that life, and he’s fucking ruined over it, and this ends one of two ways.

Ending 1: He finds out the kids from the bubble were actually child versions of the real kids that he and Bill had that he didn’t know about, and so he tries to create the relationship he should’ve had with them if Bill hadn’t kept them apart.

OR Ending 2: Like Mabel’s dream boys, the fake kids somehow survive the popping of the bubble (and even the closing of the rift), though they’re very confused about what happened, and Ford winds up finding them and taking them back home (though I don’t think he’d tell them what happened to Bill just yet).

Holy shit that was a lot of words. Can you tell which plot I’ve spent more time thinking about

Thanks @acerobot for inspiring this. This was all your fault

Also here’s what I think Cassie and Aaron (the kids) would look like if they were Dipper and Mabel’s age

[lesbiananya]

members of the tulpar crew ranked 1 (best choice) to 5 (not invited) for a blunt rotation ?

#1: Anya - this is a given. i think she'd also be such a good trip sitter and also she deserve the chance to chill out after her nightmare life... she'd keep asking if you're okay and her usually half-lidded eyes would be so heavy and sleepy.

#2: Daisuke - he is so chill and funny that i know he would be so good to get high with. he'd tell the funniest jokes and draw yimpy-esque drawings and it would be a HIT !!! you can trust getting stoned around daisuke to be a fun time

#3: Curly - he's somewhere in the middle because i think he'd be a fine enough person to get high with? he's polite enough but he's not my first choice. i don't think he'd be reassuring to have a high panic attack around though. he would Not comfort you. i think he'd take a hit of that blunt and get soooo scared lmfao

#4: Swansea - only so low-ranked because he's kind of a grumpy guy and i think he'd harsh the vibe by being too rowdy. that said, if swansea became immaculately chill and funny when he's high then he'd replace curly as #3. as his sober personality is, though? eh... and what if he took that as a chance to relapse on drinking? not ideal!

#5: Jimmy - DON'T get high around him, are you kidding? nobody should be anything but sober around this man. he'd make any blunt rotation into a nightmare blunt rotation. scary... this man is not invited. he is ejected from the blunt rotation

[writeforfandoms]

Fast Car 2

Find my Simon Riley masterlist

Two years after the end of the world, you have a choice to make, and potentially a new life to settle into. One thing you definitely now have: a nemesis.

Warnings: Swearing, lots of grumbling, gentle interrogation, don't forget these guys are a trained very effective unit, dick-ish behavior, reference to cannibalism, reference to the wider zombie au.

Word count: 1k

You approached the meeting place carefully, slowly. Sure, you were planning to go with them. But that didn't mean you had to trust them. 

It wasn't terribly hard to spot three people, standing exactly where hat guy said they'd be. You didn't see tall and scary, but that was just fine with you. 

Maybe you'd get lucky and he'd been eaten overnight. 

“Took your time getting here.” 

Spoke too soon. Grimacing, you half-turned to see him emerge from his hiding spot, gun in hand but aimed away from the two of you. Small mercies. 

“I'm on time,” you defended yourself, planting your hands on your hips. It wasn't as effective given the large pack on your back, but still. 

“Means you're late.” He turned and strode off back to the others, clearly expecting you to follow him. You grit your teeth, momentarily tempted to just walk away. You didn't need a town. You were fine on your own. You could do it, keep on going on your own.

Except the empty windows and yawning doorframes of this town reminded you how hard it was to come across supplies. 

So you grit your teeth and followed him, footsteps light. 

You stepped directly in one of his boot prints, out of curiosity. His feet were much larger than yours. 

You walked a little faster. Just in case. 

Hat guy eyed you and nodded once. “We're taking the truck back,” he said. “You're in back.” 

You almost wanted to object to that, mildly outraged, but, well… all four of these guys was pretty big, in the beefy military esque kind of way. They probably needed the space. 

Still. Jerk. 

“So you're the mechanic, eh? I'm Gaz.” He held out a hand to you, and it took you a moment to remember what a handshake was. 

“Call me Soap.” He was next, quick to fall in on your other side so he and Gaz escorted you to the car. “Ye good with cars?”

“Dunno, you good with that thing?” You nodded to the big gun slung over his shoulder. 

He laughed, grinning at you. “Aye,” he confirmed. “Ye'll do just fine. In ye go.” He opened the back seat to the car you'd almost looted yesterday, ushering you in. Gaz slipped around the other side. 

Not only were they making you sit in the back, but in the middle. It had been a solid year since you'd been on a car, but you remembered how awful it was to sit in the middle seat. 

The only big plus was that the big unfriendly guy was in the front. 

“That's Price,” Gaz told you. “And Ghost.” 

So the big mean guy was Ghost. Easier to avoid him when you knew his name. 

“I'd say nice to meet you but I generally don't say that to people who almost dislocate my shoulder,” you snarked. 

“Shouldn't have messed with the car.” Ghost didn't sound the least bit apologetic. Not that you expected him to. 

Big asshole, for sure. 

“Ye traveled a lot?” Soap interrupted, breaking Some of the tension. 

“Eh. As needed.” You shrugged, uncomfortable as your shoulders rubbed his and Gaz's. “More than I really wanted to. Hard to stay in one place with cannibals around.” 

“Cannibals? Really?” Gaz sounded mildly dubious. 

“Really. Not like food is aplenty out there. Lots of canned goods are gone.” 

“We grow a lot,” Gaz said, glancing at you. 

“Not us,” Soap added with a cheeky grin. “Cannae grow shite, us. But the rest of the town, aye. Got a good lot of skills between us all.” 

“But not a mechanic,” Price interjected. 

“Least I'll have job security,” you joked, leaning back in your seat, refusing to show how uncomfortable you really were with the two men pressed close like this. “At least until everything quits working.” 

“We'll find work for ye,” Soap assured you, grinning. “Plenty to go ‘round.” 

That was not as reassuring as he intended it to be, but you didn't say so. That would just be fucking stupid, and you liked to think you weren't fucking stupid. 

“How'd you end up here?” Gaz asked, expression open, hands relaxed in his lap. Oh, he was good. Could've gone into acting, this one. 

Sure, he was acting all nice, but that was absolutely an interrogation question. 

At least he was being nice, and not threatening to break anything. 

So you told him. The short version. How you'd traveled for a bit with people, ran into cannibals, escaped with your life, and had been running from zombies ever since. 

The end of the world had made most people absolutely bonkers.

All in all, it was a pretty gentle questioning. And you couldn't blame them, not if they really were taking you to a whole town full of people. 

Price finally parked the car about mid-afternoon, and you got out gingerly, stiff from sitting still for so long. You stretched out, groaning softly as your shoulders and upper back popped. 

Ghost stood to one side, watching you. You ignored him, even as you noted yet again just how fucking big he was.

Price invited you inside, leading the way to the house. It looked well kept, at least, windows all intact, a pile of wood just visible to one side. You stepped up into the house, not sure what to expect.

The mouth-watering smell of bread and some kind of stew was not it. 

You swallowed back the obscene sound you wanted to make at just the smell of real cooked food, and wandered further in. A woman in the kitchen turned to greet everyone, smile wide and warm. 

You hadn't seen anywhere so homey, so warm, since… Well. Before the zombies, for sure.

It rather astounded you how fast they folded you into the routine, showing you where to wash up, offering spare clothes, assigning you a seat at the table. Truth be told, it left you a little wrong footed, and you kept quiet through dinner. 

So did Ghost. 

Ghost was the one that showed you to the couch, told you you'd be staying there a few days. You didn't object, still too full and happy from a hot meal. 

If they ended up being cannibals… Well, you'd die full. That wouldn't be so terrible.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

Onyx Storm Predictions!!

I wanted to do a full theory post but the clock is TICKING and I decided to get sick last week before I could write one up, so this will have to do!

Predictions below the cut! I'm going to re-blog and re-spoiler tag with extra info from the apple books preview, so no onyx storm spoilers on THIS post.

I'm going to start off with my most controversial prediction and say that I don't think Xaden is leaving! The bond is still in place (re: end of IF) and Sgaeyl evidently still gives a fuck about him (again, re: end of IF) and so I don't think she's going to break the bond! I DO think he might try and leave, but I think Violet will stop him.

This is probably the second most controversial (at least to me) but I do think Violet might be part/half venin. I think Lilith turned when she was pregnant with Violet. I don't fully know how being part venin would even work, but we know next to nothing about how being FULL venin would work, so I'm not gonna sweat it. There's a huge theme (motif?) of being two things at once in these books (violet's hair, her eyes, her two dragons, her two signets, scribe/rider, Xaden's two signets, etc.) Further, you have Lilith's cure-investigation, and also the matter of the extreme amount of parallels between Lilith and Xaden. I think they both turned to protect Violet.

The subsect of that prediction/theory/whatever is that I don't think Xaden can drain her! If you read the fight with JFB in FW wherein Vi is "shaken by an internal force (she doesn't) understand, as though he's forcing his own power into my body, shocking me with a thousand stings of vibrating energy" while he has his hands holding her face. A couple paragraphs later, it's confirmed his eyes are red-rimmed. (Fourth Wing pages 294-295). I think this is JFB draining her to a certain degree. It HURTS Violet, he gets power, but no hand prints! I actually really wanted Xaden to leave sexy handprints on her, but in the last like 4 days I've changed my mind. I foresee a sort of vampire-esque power drinking thing!

I keep calling myself controversial but I'm going to keep doing it. My NEXT controversial take is that I don't think they're going to the isles yet! I think Vi may WANT to go to the isles, but I think she'll have to go to Poromiel first, then head to the barrens!

I think Vi's second signet is one of two things: the type of mirroring signet I used in Teach Me, or a straight up inntinnsic. Both of these are used in the throne scene, as I spelled out in that fic! I don't mind Vi being an inntinnsic*, especially since all the men in her life have a direct line into her head. I really think it's only fair if she can get back at them, IDK.

I don't think we're meeting Xaden's mom this book! I think that's book 4. But while we're talking about her, I think she has a second kid Xaden doesn't know about, and I think they'll meet this secret sibling first and it will be a moment of tenuous trust between riorgail (in that Violet will have to grapple with the possibility of him keeping secrets from her AGAIN, only to find out her isn't)

I'm saving my thoughts on who dies for the spoilery part!

I don't think Xaden is getting "Cured". I'm not entirely sure there will be a cure on a person-to-person basis, because I frankly think that defeats the purpose of the metaphor.

This MAY be a book 4 thing, but I'm going to add it here anyway! My IRL bestie and I talk a lot about how the story of the 3 brothers here is the Deathly Hallows reborn, and we've been joking about how Violet must gather said hallows to defeat Voldemort etc. However, we joked about it a little too much, and now I'm convinced: at some point, Vi will be the dragon rider, the gryphon flier, and the venin

OR: Mira is the gryphon rider* and Brennan's the venin.

This is wishful thinking actually but the quest squad somehow ends up being just x, vi and the dragons!

This is more of a theme prediction, but every book thus far (all 2!) have been about unpacking a level of propaganda. FW is Navarre's propaganda about war, and IF is Navarre's propaganda about Poromiel. Therefore, we have at least 2 more forms of propaganda to unpack: whatever the fuck is going on with the dragons, and the idea that venin are inherently evil. I think we tackle one of these book 3 and one book 4! Or perhaps both together, because they are intertwined.

Crack Pot Theories

Papa Sorrengail's first name is Adam.

I don't think Halden is Violet's ex. I think it's literally two random ass infantry guys. Also Xaden gets to kill Halden :)

I think Brennan killed Naolin! I also think they were gay. I think it’s a mirror to a different way to handle someone turning venin for you than what Vi and X will do

I may edit this and add more. Why am I blanking on every thought I've ever had about onyx storm in my life.

[frostsinth]

Your Heart's Got Teeth - Pt. 6

Part 1|2|3|4|5 - Masterlist

Here, have another part of this enemies to lovers-esque story. Come off the cliff hanger I left from the last update.

Thoughts and impressions appreciated. My thoughts? These two are idiots and I love them. Also, this is not close to done. So enjoyyy.

Language and innuendo warning. Viewer discretion is advised.

----

“You pompous, arrogant, son of a-”

SNNAAAP!!!

I gasped as suddenly the air was forced out of me by the freezing waters and the sound of the storm was muffled by the river in my ears. Before I could even think, my head dipped below the surface, and I sucked down a mouthful of the icy liquid. Then my feet hit the bottom, and half on instinct alone I pushed off. Bouncing back towards the surface. But I was waterlogged, heavier than when I had fallen in. Even with the momentum, I barely crested the surface. Trying desperately to get my face out. Flailing and kicking. Still not sure if I was up or down but feeling the hint of cold wind over the top of my wet hair before I dropped back below the surface.

As suddenly as I had fallen in, I felt the suck of the water around me as I was yanked back out. Gasping as soon as the icy wind hit me square. Struggling to breathe. My chest clenching tight and preventing real air from flowing back into my lungs from the shock of it. Solid ground hit my knees, my hands. But I couldn’t fully feel them, couldn’t lock them in to hold my weight. And so I flopped to the ground. Gaping like a fish and instantly shivering so hard my bones rattled in my frame. Blackness dotted the edges of my vision, and I groped and wriggled slowly. As if I could claw my way out of the icy grip the winter had me in. Something around my waist, pulling my face from the snow. Then a heavy force hit my back with a thump. Once, then twice. At the third strike, my diaphragm kicked back to life. Spasming and leaving me painfully coughing. Gagging up the water that had found its way to my lungs.

Another shocking gasp as I left the ground again. Hoisted up, then smacked against something firm (though softer than the ground). The wind was a bit lessened in this new position, but I couldn’t feel anything other than that. I tried to wiggle my fingers, tried to draw in another breath. I struggled with both, my body just refusing to obey.

“Hold on!!” Came a familiar voice over the raging wind.

I tried to make sense of it all. Tried to remember what was happening. Where my hands were, my legs, my head. Trying to remember who I was. Where we had been. I knew dimly that I had fallen into the river. I knew that someone was carrying me now through the storm. But where could we go?? I had to get out of the storm. I had to get warm, and fast. Or I wouldn’t be remembering anything else ever again.

An echoing laugh danced in my ears. A memory, so long past I had almost forgotten it. I reached, clawing, tugging.

“C-Cave!” I gasped as loud as my stricken throat could manage. “E-Ea-sst-sst!”

I thought I heard a growl, or a grumble. Maybe I felt it in my cheek. I felt my head swirl, felt darkness quickly circling my vision. Felt myself grow heavier, and at the same time, felt nothing at all.

My ears rang with the sudden silence when the wind cut out, and I managed to find enough semblance of myself to shiver. Quake really, from head to toe. As if a rattle being shaken enthusiastically by every child who would ever think to shake it all at once. Then I was falling, but there was no crash at the end. Something hard and cold, and I ran my fingers over it. Stone? I was on my side now, I thought, and a clatter had me trying to look about.

A soft snap and hiss. Orange red light. Filling the void of my vision. Having me blinking rapidly. Shaking my head, though no one would notice since my entire body was in spasms of cold.

“Here. Quick.”

I felt tugging. Pulling. Fingers? Hands maybe. I was too numb to tell. Like ice sheets dragging across my skin. The crunch of something crashing into stone. Something new around me? No… wait, yes? Distinctly floating, then not again. Wrapped up, tingling numbness. Wet, maybe warm? Warmer. Still quaking, still shivering. That was good. Good to shiver. Meant my body was reacting to the cold. It was so cold, it burned. I almost cried for the pain of it. Twisting, trying to find my hands. My limbs. The burning singe at the tips of my fingers, the edges of my skin. Felt like they weren’t there at all. Then realizing my eyes were almost frozen shut. Forcing them open.

A dark beard, two long, thin braids trailing from it. A thick green neck that flashed as he breathed. Copper yellow eyes. Piercing and sharp. Staring down at me. A furrowed brow, thick lashes. Huge teeth, a wide mouth. I blinked stupidly, trying to figure out why it was so close. He shifted, and my nose was tucked against that green neck. Against the warm skin. It was warm. I could almost feel the warmth now. Even amid my lack of feeling, I could tell it was different than my cold.

“Listen, you little bitch,” Came the soft, rumbling growl, “You’d better not freeze to death on me. Or so help me I will kill you.”

I would’ve scoffed, if I had more presence of mind. My lips were still numb, but my teeth were clacking together now. I thought I might bite my tongue if I tried to speak.

“I-i-id-d-dio-ot-t.” I chattered.

It was worth the risk.

Arms around me tightened. He shifted the furs, shifted closer to the fire. “Keep talking.” He said softly. “Keep talking, vile woman.”

I felt my eyes start to close, felt my breath become shallow. I nearly gasped as he shook me, my head flopping about painfully.

“No. Don’t sleep. Don’t you dare.” He growled. “Talk to me.” He stymied another attempt to close my eyes with another little shake. “Talk to me!”

“F-f-fff-uck-k oo-o-ooff-ff-ff.” I stammered through clattering teeth.

A rumble of approval. “Better. At least you can follow directions.”

I felt my fingers curl into a fist. As if I might punch him. Punch that smug look off his face I was sure he had. I couldn’t find the strength to do more than that.

“O-oh, y-yy-yo-oou…” I tried, then sneezed. “… B-b-b-b-”

“You brilliant creature?” He offered. “Beloved chief? Beguiling rogue?”

“B-b-bbb-bas-tt-tard-d.”

He scoffed, shifting me again, pulling another stick over to the fire. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”

I tried to shove at him. Sneezing again instead. His thick, powerful arms barely let me shift an inch.

“B-b-b-bas… Bas- b-b-b.”

“Becalming.” He suggested. “Bright. Brilliant. Beautiful?”

“Ba-Bass… B-b-bast..tard…”

A chuckle now. “Whatever motivates you. Stay awake.”

I blinked slowly, still shivering. My toes and fingers remained numb, but other parts of my body tingling painfully as if hundreds of needles were pricking them. I tried to look around, but felt his grip tighten. As if I might try to climb out of the warm cocoon he had me wrapped in. I scoffed quietly, letting my head drop back amid the furs wrapped around me. Feeling my breath shudder and shake as it spilled down his bare chest.

“… W-whe… w-w-where…?” I mumbled, shaking and trying to wiggle my fingers and toes.

“Cave.” He reminded me, and one of his hands came around to begin rubbing firmly at my feet. “Already had wood stacked in here… yours?”

I managed a small nod. Trying to pull my thoughts together better. He rumbled again, giving me a little squeeze. He passed me something, and when it fumbled from my hands he brought it to my lips instead. The warm liquid felt good on my throat, and I almost sighed when he finally lowered it.

“Not enough wood for the night. Not to keep it warm enough to melt your frozen heart.” He explained. “But enough to get you thawed out a bit.”

“C-c-Cold.” I managed.

Another dry chuckle. “Obviously. Taking a bath in the frozen river in the middle of a massive blizzard will do that.”

I managed to thump my fist weakly against his chest. “Y-y-you-ou… b-b-bas-bastard-dd.” I accused.

He grunted. “Sorry, can’t hate me until you can function properly again.”

His other palm was at my back now. Rubbing between the shoulder blades. Over my neck. Firmly rolling down my back. I felt my eyes droop at the pleasantness of his firm fingers. I gasped again as he shook me.

“No sleeping.” He ordered.

“F-ff-ffuck…” I tried, then sighed tiredly. My fingers slowly uncurling. Resting my cold palm flat against his chest. I felt goosebumps raise under my touch. He offered me another drink of the warm water, and I drank it obediently before settling back into his arms.

I lost track of how long we sat there in silence. His hands rubbing up and down my chilled skin. My fingers, my shoulders. My toes and arms. I blinked, trying to keep myself awake. Trying to make complete sense of what was happening. My mind swirling uselessly, my body shivering with cold and exhaustion. Another little sneeze escaped me, and I shifted a little against him.

“… Still awake?” He asked finally, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

I managed a tiny nod and a petering, affirmative sound.

“Good.” I felt him shift around me, and managed to look up in time to see him craning his neck towards the cave entrance. “We’re stuck here at least for the night.” He told me. “I’ll need to get more wood.”

“T-treessss.” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Y-y-you g-ge-get w-wood-d fr-f-from t-treesss.” I stuttered through shivering lips. “C-ca-case yo-you-you’ve n-n-never h-ha-had t-t-to b-b-bother be-before.”

He shook his big head, beads chiming in his braids as he did. “You’re a dead woman.” He grumbled.

“A-an-n-n ax w-worksss b-b-bes-”

“Oh, shut up.” He cut me off. “Even half frozen you’re still a bitch.”

I almost smiled, but wasn’t quite sure I had the muscle strength to do so yet. Still, I was starting to feel warmer. Starting to feel as though my body might obey me if I tried. I turned my face towards his warmth. Sighing again instead. Breathing in his musky scent. Feeling my heart skip a bit as his arms encompassed me. He was so warm, and despite his firm muscles and biting words, he held me very gently. Like a doll made of glass. I wondered suddenly what it would be like to wake up in these arms. Which brought stirring to the surface the memory of the last time we had been alone together. The taste of his warm mouth against mine, the press of our bodies…

Almost as cold as the icy river, I felt guilt slowly wrapping its fingers around me at the memory. Which made his once gentle touch burn as if he had dropped me in the hot coals instead. I shifted in his arms, starting to pull back clumsily. I felt his body tighten around me.

“P-p-put m-m-me-me d-d-d-”

“I didn’t drag you through a blizzard just for you to freeze to death in a cave.” He snapped before I could stammer it out. “Hold still.”

I shoved at him weakly, wondering how my elbows didn’t break from the attempt in their current weakened state.

“I-I-I ss-ssaid, p-p-put m-m-me d-down.” The order was weakened by my chattering teeth. But I shook my head stubbornly.

He wrapped his arms further around me. “Even if it’ll keep you alive, you still can’t stand the idea of an orc touching you.” His voice was quiet and dark, somehow filling the room as effectively as a choking smoke.

“I-I c-c-c-an’t… ” I tried to push away from him again.

I gave an unglamorous ‘Omphh!’ as he suddenly dumped me from his lap. Standing up and glaring down at me. His hands balled into fists, his teeth bared.

“Fine then. FINE! Freeze to death. See if I care!” He tossed his hands up, turning and grabbing his big battle ax before stomping out the cave entrance.

I stared after him for a long time, and shivered in the silence. Torn between my own shame of letting him touch me and now the growing guilt of his fresh disdain. The cave felt colder with his absence. Despite the fact that his huge body was no longer filling the tiny space, I felt like the walls had shrunk. Like it would all collapse on me at any minute. I sniffled, blinking back the anxiousness that settled like a shroud over me. Trying to push back the emotions that threatened to suffocate me, shifting a bit closer to the fire he had built in the center of the cave. Hearing the distant drip of water from somewhere amid the crackle of the flames. I noticed some jerky put to warm by the fire, and took a small piece to chew. Even the little bites sapped my energy reserves, and I felt myself droop as I waited for the warm food to hit my stomach. Shivering again.

I reached out from his big cloak which he had left around me, pulling out one of the last smaller logs and shakily placing it on the fire. The movement had a draft of cold sweeping across my skin, and I quickly re-bundled myself even as I quaked on the stone. Which made me realize… I had no clothes.

I glanced down quickly as if to confirm the fact. Then wrapped up his cloak even tighter around me and feeling what could pass for a hot flush in my current state rising to my cheeks. That whole time? That whole time, he had been rubbing his big, meaty hands up and down my naked body? Had me pressed directly to his bare chest?

I almost groaned, my throat suddenly burning. Feeling like I would have cried if I’d had the fluids left to do so. If I could be sure they wouldn’t break like ice at the corners of my eyes.

The Gods were punishing me. I shouldn’t have survived. It would have been better if he had just let me sink to the bottom of the river. This was worse somehow, knowing I’d let him… And even now, I was wrapped up in his cloak. It stank of him, and I felt my nose rub against the fur a little as I drew in a deep breath of it. Shivering, and not just from the cold. I shifted a little closer to the fire, feeling guilty for even that.

I tried to think of something else. Looking around the little cave. I felt a flood of memories come to the surface of my cloudy thoughts. The sound of my brother’s laughter. His smile. I felt my guilt turn to sorrow, which only doubled the ache in my heart. This was one of many of the caves that had been our hideouts. Adequately stocked for our excursions, packed to near bursting with memories. My brother had never been the strongest of constitutions. Often he would wait in one of these caves while I hunted nearby… I hadn’t been back to any of them since he had passed…

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, wallowing in my guilt and sorrow. Watching the fire crackle. Half wishing I could just let it burn down to nothing. Just sink into darkness, and let myself fall asleep. My eyes did feel heavy, and a few times I felt them close. But the howl of the wind or the distant snap of a branch would waken me. And I stared at the entrance instead. Pulling the fur up over my damp hair. Rubbing at my fingers and toes. Wondering if Jou’kiel had decided to leave me here. Wondering if he was going to let the elements do what he had always wanted… Wondering if it would be worth the burns to pull some of the coals in and hold them against myself. Just to feel some real warmth again.

Finally, his lumbering steps announced his return. Dragging a small tree behind him and shaking the snow off his broad, bare shoulders. Reminding me I was currently wrapped in his cloak. Leaving him completely exposed to the storm’s biting winds. But I swear I could see steam rising off his body, and wasn’t sure it was all melting snow dripping down his huge, muscled back.

He glanced at me as he came in, as if unable to resist. Looking away as soon as he saw my eyes were open. Then brought the tree in as deep as he could. It filled the space, and deftly he began trimming down the branches. Filling the room with the scent of pine and sap. He moved down its length, then took his big ax and cracked it into the trunk itself. Careful not to pierce all the way through and damage his weapon on the stone floor. It was a battle ax, so not the most efficient thing for cutting up the wood. But it did more than well enough, and soon he had a new pile of wood sitting beside the old. Starting to dry out in the smoke of the fire.

“Given the blizzard, I’ll suffer you a little longer.” He told me haughtily, plopping down on the stone floor almost on the opposite side of the fire. Tossing a fresh log and rubbing at his arms as it sparked to life. “Soon as it breaks, you can get the fuck out.”

I didn’t answer, staring at the crackling flames. Watching them lick over the new log, snapping and creeping up its length. The fire and its warmth growing to fill the cave again. I blinked slowly, still shivering, and wondering if I just closed my eyes, if I’d be able to shut it all out. At least for a few hours. I rubbed at my runny nose with the back of my hand.

I saw him glance at me, then give a huff. Shaking his damp braids.

“… Considering how much you apparently hate us, you sure have a knack for saving orcs.” He grumbled angrily. I peeked at him, and he made a point to look away.

I didn’t answer, sitting and shivering. Staring at the fire. I saw him sneak another piercing glance at me. Then a low growl formed in his throat. He pulled some more jerky from the pack and set it beside the fire to dry out and warm up.

“What, too good to speak to me now?” He demanded in an angry hiss.

“… I d-didn’t save ann-nyone.” I assured him after a long pause, my tones soft and bitter.

He dragged one of the branches over, slowly snapping the twigs off one at a time absentmindedly and tossing them into the fire.

“You saved Izu.” He ticked off one finger, still sounding angry, then tossed a stick to the flames.

“I-I just let hhhim go.”

Another scoff. “Hear him tell it, you fought off a horde to aid his escape.” He stared down at the latest stick in his big hands, twirling it deftly. “… And you saved me.”

I jerked a bit, looking up at him in surprise. His dark scowl flicked to me, then back to the stick. He tossed it into the flames with the others after a moment.

“… I broke the ice.” He told me quietly. “It was my weight that caused it to break. If I had fallen in, you would never have been able to pull me out. But you irritating, horrible little thing that you are… you shoved me out of the way.”

I huffed a bit, pulling his cloak tighter around myself and shaking my head a little. “D-d-don’t give mm-me that c-credit.”

His scowl deepened. “Gods forbid anyone discovered you saved not one, but two orcs.” He snarled. “You might just die of the shame.”

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut. “… Y-you sh-should hhhave left m-me.” I mumbled.

He rolled his eyes, twisting and yanking the next stick off the branch. “I owe you a debt now too.” He grumbled. “I fucking told you I didn’t want to owe you anything.”

“Y-You don’t.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” He snapped again, copper yellow eyes darting up to fix me with a glare. “And even if you hate orcs, even if you might slit my throat, I will honor that debt.”

I felt my own brow furrow. I rubbed the back of one hand at my nose and shook my head.

“I th-thought yoou didn’t m-make promises.” I mumbled bitterly.

He scoffed, snapping a particularly large twig with a resounding CRACK. Tossing it into the fire to have the flames leap and lick at it eagerly.

“I don’t. That’s not a promise.”

I ran my thumb up and down the furs. Still staring into the fire’s center. Shivering a little, with a deep chill that felt like it was set in my bones already.

“Y-you’re an i-iddiot.” I told him around my mostly numb lips.

He bared his teeth at me. “Maybe I am. Getting caught up in you.” He tore his gaze away, looking around. “Getting stuck in this cave. I should have gone back with Izu. Made sure he was safe. Should have dragged you back like… ” He glared back down at the branch. Snapping off a few sticks angrily. “I should have just killed you the first time I saw you… And kissing you? That was my worst mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake.”

I wasn’t sure why that bothered me as much as it did. I felt a fresh guilt claw at my throat, making it burn. I blinked back icy tears, shivering and wondering again if the burns might be worth it. If I could sit in the center of a pyre, just so that I could feel warmer. Could feel anything. It was as if the chill in my skin sought to sink to my heart.

“… Ssorr-” I stopped my apology short, then huffed a little angrily. Looking down at the ground. “… I-it can’t hh-happen again.”

He snarled, shoving the branch off to the side angrily. “You frigid bitch. How dare you? How DARE you think you can order me around??” He slid closer so that he could jab a finger at my cold shoulder through his cloak wrapped around it. “You are the hostage here. No matter what Izu might think,” I winced a bit at the reminder, and his scowl deepened. “You will do as I say.”

I shot him a sour look, half buried in his cloak. “J-just leave me al-lone.” I mumbled bitterly.

He leaned across the gap between us, leering over me. “I’d love nothing more. But now…” He stopped, then adjusted his mouth, scowling again. “… Now I can’t. No matter how much you want me dead.”

I shifted, avoiding his eyes.

“… I d-don’t want you dead.” I told him quietly, then winced guiltily.

Another scoff. “Sure. You only insult and threaten the people you like.” His free hand went up to rub at his neck, where just a few hours previously my blade had been pressed. “Gods above, what did an orc ever do to you to make you hate us so.”

“Ass-side from d-decimating the village that r-raised me?” I said, half under my breath. A bit of ire rising in me at his jabs.

“You hated us long before we stepped foot here.”

“I don’t hh-hate-”

“Don’t lie to me, Calliope!” He snarled, his breath hot in my ear he was so close. I flinched, and he jabbed his finger at me again. “There! You can’t even bare to be near me. Can’t even…” He growled, a deep rumbling in his chest that filled the air around us, and I jumped as his huge hand suddenly grabbed my chin. Forcing me towards him. “Just look at me, damn it!”

My ire fully sparked and burned, and I shoved his hand away. Glaring at him. Matching his scowl with my own.

“You don’t know me!” I snapped. “You don’t know an-anything about me! You sss-spoiled, arrogant-”

He grabbed my chin again, a little more firmly this time. Bringing himself even closer. His copper eyes as hot as the coals in the fire beside us.

“You kissed me back.” He reminded me, and I brought both hands up to try to tear myself from his grasp without avail. “For a minute, just one solitary fucking minute, you didn’t hate me. Now you’re repulsed by me, even more than before. And I find myself trying to figure out what made me kiss you in the first place. How I could crave such a bitter little hateful bitch so much that I thought I wanted to fuck her.”

“Let me go!” I cried, twisting in his grasp, the cloak slipping down my shoulders a bit as I did.

“Why??” He growled. “Does my touch burn? Does it bother you that I wanted to fuck you? That was until I realized what a raging, odious bitch you really were.”

“You dumb, m-mindless oaf!” I snapped again, punching at his arm weakly. “How can you be so f-fucking thick hh-headed!”

“No better than a monster, right? Isn’t that what you think of orcs?” He asked angrily, his tone crackling hot with his rage, his volume raising to be thunderous in the cave around us. “No better than fucking a mindless beast. Do I really disgust you so??”

“I DISGUST MYSELF!” I shouted back at him.

A final shove amid his surprise and he released me at last. Dropping his hand away and staring at me. I gasped, collapsing a bit and wrapping my arms around myself. Shaking again, and not from the cold. My eyes felt hot, my throat burned. The echo of our shouting seeming to bounce about the stone walls in our sudden silence.

“… For wanting me.” He reasoned after a few quiet moments, his deep baritone a barely discernible rumble at its current soft volume.

“You ssself-centered bastard,” I scoffed, “It’s not about you! It was n-never…”

I stopped short, then shook my head viciously. Trying to take back the confession even as it welled up inside me. I turned away, pulling the cloak as far up around myself as I could without disappearing into it entirely.

“I-I…”

Another rumble from somewhere deep in his chest as I dropped off. “… Don’t tell me you’ve lost your nerve now.” He pressed. “What else am I supposed to think? How could it not be-”

“It’s my f-fault.” I whispered, shivering again.

He stopped short, staring at me. “… What’s your fault?”

“You are.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Being here. All those… Everyone’s dead…” I gushed. My voice shook, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “Because of me. Because I let Izu’lemi go. Because…” I choked, shaking my head again. Burying my face in the furs as I shook with the weight of my guilt. “You should have let me d-drown. O-or freeze… You should have buried me…” A single tear escaped my defenses. “I deserve it.”

There was a long, drawn out silence. I hid my face, refusing to look at him. Drawing in one deep, agonized breath after deep, agonized breath.

“… Izu didn’t tell us about your village.”

My head snapped up, and I looked at him with wide, red rimmed eyes.

“What??”

He shook his head. “Izu didn’t tell us. One of the soldiers did.” He grunted, shifting a little to cross his legs and almost absentmindedly put another log on the fire. “Some bastard who tried to sell his own people for a little coin. Izu actually tried to stop the order to attack.” He didn’t look at me, poking at the fire with a long stick until it crackled back to life. “So if that's what all this is about, you’ve been beating yourself up over nothing.” A smirk started playing across his lips. “And you have the nerve to call me an-”

He gave a shout of surprise as I whacked him across his shoulders. Looking over at me with his previously abandoned branch clutched between my hands. Tears still in the corners of my eyes. I brandished the branch again, scowling at him.

“You bastard!” I snapped. “You self-indulgent pig! You didn’t ever think to-”

Now it was my turn to shout as he snatched at the branch even as I swung it to hit him again. A firm yank, and I came toppling forward. Stubbornly refusing to release my hold. Resisting weakly as he pulled me even closer. He had my arm now, and twisted it so that I dropped the branch. Bringing us perilously close together.

“Don’t push me, woman,” He snarled in my face, his nose almost brushing mine, “I can still bury you!”

I brought my free hand out and smacked him soundly across his cheek. “So much for your debt!” I shot back as I did. “You stupid, arrogant, son of a -”

He gave a quiet roar. Lunging at me. Knocking me on my back and pinning me there. The cloak half twisted around me. I wriggled beneath him for a moment, and he shoved his big head back in my face. Crouched over me on all fours.

“You irritating! Frigid! Stubborn-” He started, his voice as thunderous as his brow.

Then we froze, almost as one. I felt his hot breath against my face. Saw his copper eyes smolder, his jaw shift. I swallowed a lump in my throat, closing my mouth after realizing I had left it gaping. Panting a bit from my exertion as he hoovered over me. Half of my cold skin exposed before him, which sent goosebumps racing down my bare flesh. Staring at each other.

I felt suddenly weightless, as if his hands were the only thing keeping me from floating away. Felt my heart pump with the most ease it had in months. Felt the heat burning in me like a rushing river where once there had been a dam. I wasn’t sure I could stand it. I was certain I would drown beneath the waves of heat. Though I couldn’t tell if it was anger or desire, and my breath fluttered in my throat.

Based upon the intensity in his copper eyes, I knew he could sense the change in me. I watched his nostrils flare, saw his fat tongue come out to lick his thick lips. We both shifted, nearly at the same time. As if a string were tied between our bodies, lashing us together. The heat between us growing tenfold in the spans of a breath.

My head cracked back against the stone with the force of his kiss. I fed him the gasp, and he dropped his huge body over mine. Only the strength of his massive arms keeping him from crushing me completely. My own arms came up instantly. Wrapping around his neck. Pulling him deeper into me. He gave a deep, pleased chuff somewhere inside him that rippled directly against my skin pressed to his chest. His mouth was hot, almost feverish, in pursuit of mine. His tusks crashing against my face, his braids a curtain around us. Burying me in his scent, which had me shivering almost as much as his hot body half writhing against my own. I brought one leg up, wrapping it as far as I could around his hips, which had him growling against my lips.

He pulled back just enough to trace his mouth along my jaw, down my neck. Burying his face there for a moment until his thick tongue worked out a soft sound of pleasure from my own lips.

“You bastard.” I breathed, running my hands over his huge shoulders. Over his arms. Touching every part of his body I could reach.

He came back to my mouth a moment later. Smashing us back together. I traced my tongue out and found it met his in the middle. Hot and feverish, desperately in need to taste and press and roll around each others. He shifted slightly, sliding one arm along the ground so that he could bring his hand to my face. Pushing my hair back, tracing down to my neck, Wrapping his fingers there and resting his thumb upon my throat as I swallowed.

All of a sudden, he drew back, and I looked up at him in surprise. My breath coming in shallow pants. A smirk twisted his lips.

“I thought we can’t let this happen anymore?” He reminded me, his breath husky.

“Oh, shut up, you pompous-” I hissed.

I had more insults lined up. But he forced them back into my mouth with his. Though I realized it was not as feverish, not as rough. He slowly lowered his body beside mine. Shuffling to pull the cloak a little further around me. As his kisses slowed, I pulled back a bit, still breathless and weak.

“You need to rest.” He grumbled, and I thought he sounded a bit bitter despite himself. “Can’t fuck you silly if you’re still half frozen.”

I almost shivered at the suggestion, bringing my hands out to his broad chest. Feeling it rumble in amusement as I did. Then he fully settled himself beside me, neatly cupping me between his body and the fire. He stretched and curled, reaching up one massive arm to draw a few logs closer. Tossing one lazily onto the fire. Then his hungry eyes returned to me, and I saw them drift down my body.

“… Your tits are showing.”

I thumped a fist into him. Turning as if to roll back up fully into his cloak. I heard a low growl, and his arm snaked out. Wrapping around my middle and pulling me into his chest. Tucking me against him and shuffling to pull the cloak over us both. Well, partially, at least. I was certain I was far more covered than he was.

“You’re an ass.” I mumbled, shifting against him and finding his body so pleasantly warm I couldn’t help but melt into him.

“And you have a nice ass.” He returned, taking up a palm full of it beneath the makeshift blanket. I slapped the offending hand and he drew in a sharp breath before laughing lightly. The sound making my heart skip. He buried his face in my hair. “I look forward to making it bounce.”

I shoved my elbow into his ribs. “Don’t even think about it.” I said, my voice weak with my exhaustion but still bitter. “I’ll smack you raw.”

“Promise?” He purred in my ear, nibbling at it.

“Get off.” I grumbled, but without much force behind it I merely felt him chuckle around me.

He did relent after a moment, sighing heavily and wrapping me up in his arms. Resting his chin on the top of my head. I settled against him, not thinking too hard about how bare and exposed I was, tucked against his hot skin. I felt warmer now, with only the barest lingering pins and needles at my distant extremities. Which had the exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with me. I felt my eyes growing heavier, no matter how intensely I stared at the crackling flames.

“… As easy as that?” He asked me quietly, then I heard the smirk form on his lips. “You like me now?”

“Not in the least.” I grumbled tiredly. “You’re still a stupid, pompous-”

His hand came up, cupping over my mouth. Smothering the last of my insults into his palm. I wriggled weakly against him, and his lips kissed my jaw, then nibbled at my ear. I managed to rip my mouth free as he distracted himself tasting my chilled flesh.

“Don’t get any ideas in your head that we’re friends.” I mumbled half-heartedly. “I still haven’t decided if you piss me off or…”

He chuckled as I dropped off hesitantly, and I felt him shift. Bringing his lips down to trace along my neck, then my shoulders. I sighed, feeling myself relax even more at his touch. Feeling him press a warm kiss between my shoulder blades. Then he have a rumbling ‘hmmm’ against my skin.

“Fair enough.” He murmured against me. “Not sure I trust you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

I scoffed tiredly. “Smartest thing you’ve ever said.” I shrugged his mouth off my shoulders. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes dear.”

His grunt as I dug my elbow into his ribs was satisfying, Then he sighed, wrapping me up a little tighter. Throwing yet another log on the fire, and settling down behind me.

UPDATE: Part Seven HERE

[angelsdean]

Been thinking abt the finale + potential reboot plotlines and I've really come to the conclusion that TO ME the last thing we actually see from Dean's POV in the finale is him getting into the Impala to drive. Which then segways into the plot of The Winchesters and all the universe hopping and evading Jack / God to stay out of Heaven (and searching for Someone).

The brothers meeting on the bridge however is Sam's POV and crucially Sam is....not actually in heaven. He's still on earth, still the same age he was when Dean dies, and he's stuck in a dream state. Which is why his whole life flashes like a blurry montage. This is a djinn-dream-esque scenario (he did Not cope well with Dean's death) or a Chuck won / Jack corrupted by the god power purposely putting him in a dream state to get him off the playing board, either way, he's dreaming but not actually dead. Which ties into how the other characters still on earth like Jody, Garth, Donna, etc will eventually find him and realize Something Is Up. Also I think it would be pretty sweet if Sleeping Beauty Sam gets woken up by Rowena for a full circle parallel moment with their arcs, how Sam was meant to kill Rowena and cast her down to Hell and now Rowena is the one to break the curse and essentially bring him back to "life" and out of the fake Heaven in his mind.

Meanwhile, Dean is still out there on the run, universe hopping and searching for a certain portal. He eventually crashes the Impala into the Empty (actually in the cold opening of the reboot, bc we got a Lot to get through, we are Starting with the Empty Rescue). And he finds the Empty in chaos. Since everyone is awake, Cas and Billie have formed an alliance and are leading a rebellion. Lots of familiar faces of dead angels and demons. Dean ends up being less a knight in shining armor and more the getaway driver (the magic tardis Impala can open portals for them). Dean, being dead, also can finally glimpse at Cas's trueform and oh boy. He falls even more in love, if that's even possible. (And horny. He saw tentacles.)

They make their escape, along with other angels and demon allies, (Crowley, welcome back!) And then....they have the rest of the season for other plot shenanigans. Rescuing Jack from the god power, saving Sam, universe hopping and fighting more Chuck fail-safes, and of course, destiel things<3 Pale coconuts will collide. Passionately. Multiple times. In my reboot at least.

This also all works perfectly with 1.) Jared saying he doesn't want to do a long reboot season, that's ok dude! You can be asleep for half of it! 2.) Misha not wanting Cas to be sidelined to the Empty for most of it and just be "rescued" as the main plot and 3.) Jensen's continual desire to be Dean again for as long as they'll let him

[thathomestar]

watching this half life 2 e3 2002 demo is so wild, the game is in a weird in-between state of not being GoldSrc anymore but still not quite Source, a lot of the textures, models, and animations are fairly locked in but the movement, player animations, and sound effects are all still largely HL1

the NPC's eyes track the player but not the head, the gunships still operate a lot like the HL1 helicopters, the ragdolls are all working but physics props are running at a low, quake 1-esque tickrate, the GoldSrc console scrolling up at the beginning of each section, the old combine soldier models, THE FUCKING BOREALIS

[cheralith]

if the shoe fits — 「 prince!vash x reader x prince!nai 」

content warnings ; gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears a ball gown and mentions of makeup, mild violence, mention of a tri98 character, not much romance but more so tension from nai tbh whoops

contains ; royalty!au, cinderella-esque!au, gardener!reader, friends to lovers (?) (vash), enemies to lovers (?) (nai)

notes ; i can't stress enough how well rachmaninoff's symphony no. 2 in e minor: adagio, followed by largo suits this so much, please take a listen as you go!

The names of Nai and Vash Saverem of JuLai were no strangers to the townsfolk of their kingdom. Firstborn twins and only children to the late queen Rem Saverem, the two were notorious for sticking by each other’s side almost on the daily, but also for their contrasting personalities. In front of the people, Prince Nai is distant, only preferring to stare straight ahead when in an open carriage and seemingly ignoring his townsfolk. His lips would subtly purse at the sight of the crowd before drawing a breath and crossing his arms over his chest. He says that it’s the best way to make an impression on the townsfolk—their future king cannot be bothered with sillier antics, unlike a specific someone.

Prince!Vash cannot be any more different from his brother, who is to be crowned with the regal title of “king” when he is of age. He’s much more connected with the townsfolk, often waving excitedly to them while in the carriage and taking any gifts that are handed to him with a large smile on his face, cherishing and archiving them in his bedroom. The ladies love him, their babies too, and he loves them back. A natural charmer—he’s managed to easily win the popularity contest amongst him and Nai, since he prefers to frolic out of the castle without suspicion to spend time with his people.

Prince!Nai busies himself more with work-related matters, ruling the palace with an iron fist. Make one move out of line and your fate is already decided by him before you can even beg on your knees. It’s not to say he’s completely authoritarian, however, since if he could rule the way that he truly wanted to, the townsfolk would despise him and would demand his younger brother to usurp him, despite the fact that the younger twin has no interest in royal politics.

Prince!Vash brings joy and light to the palace, he makes the place much more lively. He prefers to dine in the boisterous servants’ quarters rather than with his brother and other boring royal officials in the quieter dining hall, enjoying their stories about what life was like in the village or their stories about his late mother. They often say he reminds them of her—the fondness in his eyes, his soft and playful voice, and his pacifistic, loving demeanor. It’s also there that they freely complain about his brother without fear, to which Vash can only laugh and excuse Nai to the best of his abilities.

Prince!Nai knows his place in the world. He belongs to the higher pedestal, like a true future king should be. White gold and royal blue adorn most of his clothing, signifying his importance and regal nature. He knows his place in the world—he just wishes that everyone else does, too.

Prince!Vash forgets he’s a prince half the time, just like how he “forgets” to wear his crown (he just merely doesn’t like the feeling of superiority it entitles to him, but he guises it under the complaint of it being too heavy). He’s intrigued more by the culture of his kingdom and what a “normal” person would do rather than the gleam and glory offered by his palace.

On an early Saturday afternoon, Prince!Nai frowns at the sight of his brother talking amongst a particular someone when he passes by the gardens with his royal court following behind him while they continue mumbling about incessant political meetings with other kingdoms. He can recognize those dirtied gardening boots and soiled apron that sit a little too close to Vash’s thigh for his liking anywhere, and his frown deepens when he watches as an amateur royal gardener hands the younger prince a red flower with its petals all bustled together, clicking his tongue when dirt-stained hands touches the pure white of Vash’s glove. 

Prince!Vash is awe-stricken by the flower you hand to him, carefully twirling it around with his fingers. It was his mother’s favorite flower, according to the other gardeners. You give him a toothy smile and say he came to the garden at the right time—geranium season has just bloomed and the garden sprinkled with their beauty all over this spring in honor of the late queen. 

“I hear your mother was a lot like you,” you murmur quietly, watching as the prince pets the petals tenderly when you change into your spare, cleaner shoes. “Do you have memories of what she was like?” 

He looks at you with a glimmer of longing flashing through his cerulean eyes. You’re about to apologize for your hastiness when you see his lips thin momentarily before he gently smiles and leans back into the seat of the gazebo that protects you and him from the afternoon sun. 

“Gentle,” is what slips past his lips, “is what I remember best. Kind and wise, too. She used to always tell me that there’s beauty everywhere, even in the harshest of places. All it really takes is for one to just simply,” he reaches over to you and gently nestles the flower neatly in between your hair and ear, not noticing you stiffen at his touch despite him looking at you straight in the eyes. “... look a little closer.”

Prince!Nai can only huff at the shared touch between a lowly gardener and the other branch of his royal blood before briefly excusing himself from the royal counsel to escort himself to the gardens, not wanting his brother to be in such close radius of you any longer. He calls out his name sternly, making you and him flinch at the sound of his voice. His nerves relax themselves when Vash pulls away from you, but his jaw clenches slightly when he sees a speck of dust on the fingertip of his glove that Vash scratches his cheek with, embarrassed.

“You should be getting ready for tonight’s ball,” Nai states flatly, not even acknowledging your existence when you bow and greet him. “There is much preparation to do.” His eyes fleet towards you, where you stand still, your head still bowed to show your respects to his majesty. “I expect the flowers for the ballroom to be set up by early evening,” is all he says to you before trotting away with his head held up high.

Prince!Vash makes sure that his brother is out of sights before he sighs and urges you to lift your head up. Apologizing for his brother’s rudeness, he can only sigh at the fact that he couldn’t sneak out of the palace tonight like he usually does, making you laugh when he pouts at the thought of entertaining boring old nobles and lords.

“I wish I could say that,” you mention as you smooth your pants out. “Balls seem like fun—dancing around in pretty clothing and eating all those tasty desserts the chefs make.” 

Vash snorts. “Sure, they’re fun if you like talking awkwardly with people twice your age and having people step on your feet after not being able to sit down for almost three hours.”

“But still!” you exclaim. “Just the thought of being in a ballroom and being with everyone enjoying themselves would be such a delightful sight.” 

As you sigh dreamily about your fantasies, Prince Vash can only stare at you incredulously, marveled at the two different worlds that sit side by side so close under a gazebo. He wonders if you fantasize about royal life a lot, wondering if you think like him but with his fantasies about being a commonfolk and not worrying about the societal pressures of living up to his brother. He finds it so fascinating that such two different people from two different worlds can be together under a single roof, bonding over miniscule things like flowers. It’s what he finds so amazing about human nature the most—the skill of connection. 

He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you gaze longingly into the garden when all of a sudden, an idea pops into his head.

Prince!Nai carefully watches with contempt as you and the younger prince talk amongst each other from his office window that sits a few stories above the garden, sneering when Vash holds both of your speckled hands suddenly and nods excitedly, the sparkle in his eyes evident even from a hefty height. His eyes narrow in suspicion when you shake your head to his unknown words; your brows furrow in nervousness before Vash caresses the top of your hands with his thumbs, making Nai’s icy blue gaze harden. 

Prince!Vash is about to beg on his knees at this point. 

“You must come! You’d enjoy it, I promise,” Vash pleads as he grips your hands tighter. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, so you won’t feel too anxious.”

“Your majesty—” you attempt.

He pouts. “Please don’t call me that,” he says with a soft frown, not enjoying the sudden formality. 

“—it would not be wise for a menial gardener such as I to attend such a regal event,” you whisper, your eyes darting over the place to avoid any eavesdroppers. The palace does enjoy its part-time gossip, after all. “I am not suited for it.”

“But I am inviting you!” he exclaims. “You would be coming on my behalf. I’m allowed to do that, I swear!” 

Your lips purse in anxiousness, a thick swallow trailing down your dry throat. “It would not be deemed appropriate… and what if his majesty found out about one of his staff attending a royal ball and not tending to it?”

“Then that would be my problem to handle,” Prince Vash retorts. “Please come. It’d make me eternally happy.”

“I…” your words fail you, and you do consider giving in for a brief moment just to get the prince off your tail before your eyes deepen with disappointment one more time. “I’m sorry, my prince, but I must refuse your offer.”

Prince!Nai cocks a brow when he sees his younger brother’s smile disappear and morph into a saddened frown at your words that he can’t seem to articulate from the window above. He watches a little too intently when Vash heaves a great big sigh and finally stands up, his eyes rolling when he offers you his hand. Assuming that the conversation between a gardener and blue blooded prince is finally over, he moves his eyes to his royal secretary.

“Must this be a ball with the intention of finding me a spouse…?” Nai huffs, settling himself in his chair. “I can rule a kingdom perfectly fine without the nuisance of a marriage.” 

Legato can only shake his head at his superior’s words. “Tradition goes as follows, your majesty. Your coronation cannot take place without a spouse by your side. At least you are able to choose them—your mother was not granted that option.”

The future king of JuLai knows that, and he also knows that he should be more grateful to what he is given. But he has always been alone and prefers to keep it that way, his younger counterpart being the only exception. Yes, his mother may have married to a more irrelevant royal, but after his death, she was able to rule JuLai properly by herself, so why couldn’t he? Nai only shakes his head before staring at the royal orb and scepter that sit in their glass box on the dresser, a reminder that he keeps close to remind him of his goals and his duties. He can feel the ghost of their coldness on his palms from practicing so much in the mirror. His hands twitch.

“Your outfit for the ball is in your quarter’s, my prince,” Legato says before excusing himself to make sure the preparations for the ball are in place. 

Nai can only sigh in disappointment when he watches the doors of his office close before standing up again to face the window. His eyes graze around the garden again before sharply landing on the gazebo again, where nothing but soil-ridden boots stand under it

Prince!Vash looks into your eyes, where disappointment hides under a curtain of uncertainty. He sighs, releasing your hands from his grasp. He supposes that it does seem a little too risky to sneak in a commonfolk into the royal ballroom, and he wouldn’t want you to face any punishments if you were caught. 

“Thank you for the invitation, though,” you retort. “I truly do admire your enthusiasm.”

“If I was able to invite the entire kingdom, I would,” the prince sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m sure everyone would enjoy it, especially the children.”

You smile softly at his words; he was always a man of the people and it never fails to show even during more private moments. “I have no doubt about that. Perhaps in another lifetime, when you are king, you’ll be able to do that.”

A haughty laugh escapes his lips. “If I am able to do that without being a king or leader of sorts, that’d be better. Honestly, if I’m able to just one day escape this life in general—I’d be satisfied.”

You shrug casually. “What’s stopping you? You could always just escape and go live under a fake name, I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

Prince Vash pauses suddenly. He snaps his head to look at you with a sudden idea lingering in his head at the mention of a fake name. Glassy eyes go to scan your figure up and down and slowly, an almost mischievous grin starts to etch onto his face.

“Fake name, huh?” he raises his eyebrows at your confused countenance. You exclaim out of surprise when he suddenly tugs you away from the gazebo and back into the castle. “I have an idea.”

The evening sun is beginning to rest its rays. Prince!Nai watches from the leveled floor as the guests begin to flock in numbers into the ballroom, occasionally bowing to greet those who greet him. Legato stays by his side closely, making sure no one would get too comfortable to the royal host, his eyes darting to eye any suspicious characters.

“Is there anyone that you find… interesting so far, your majesty?” Legato murmurs. Nai finds his attempt at loose matchmaking poor.

"Do not ask such foolish questions,” Nai scoffs quietly as he bows to a curtsied countess that bats her lashes at him. “Where is Vash? He should’ve been down by now.”

Prince!Vash waits outside an almost-never used dressing room, wincing occasionally as he hears you yelp from the pain of having your hair tugged in a certain direction or cough from the amount of powder dabbed onto your face. His plan was sure to work; have you be disguised under a fake name with a fake title from a fake kingdom and merely just have you accompany him the entire night under the impression that you and him fancied each other when in reality,it’d just be you helping him get through the night to avoid talking to other political figures and most importantly—let you have fun.

“Are they almost ready?” Vash asks the head seamstress that runs in and out of the corridor. He pulls out his inherited pocket watch from his mother, its hands ticking a little too fast for his liking. “I’d hate for us to be late.”

“Nearly, your majesty,” she replies, ribbon between her teeth as she shuffles back into the room. “Give us another moment—they do not seem to have a tolerance for a makeover, I’m afraid.”

He gives out an amused laugh when he hears you hiss through your teeth as your hair gets pulled back. “P-please be more gentle…” he hears you mumble. 

“Work your magic however, Meryl,” Vash grins and says with a wink, “I’ll give you and your team double the pay if you manage to make my jaw drop.”

Prince!Nai anxiously taps his foot, his eyes flickering back and forth between the growing crowd of nobles and the large clock that screams Vash is quite late. The guests themselves have asked a number of times where the younger Saverem is, his presence already ghosting around the ballroom. 

“Legato,” Nai calls. “Take Livio and Monev to search for Vash. I cannot have his tardiness stain our reputation like this,” he stresses.

“Prince!Vash!” Milly, a handmaiden, calls out worriedly. Distress floods her entire being, causing her to trip on the rug and fall towards him. His reflexes do not fail him (he can thank all the swordsmanship training for that one) and manages to break her fall with his arms. “Prince Vash! They’re looking for you! Prince Nai’s bodyguards are asking about your whereabouts—!”

Vash curses under his breath, knowing that your transformation wasn’t complete yet. “Meryl, how many more minutes do you need?” he calls aloud to the head seamstress, only for his face to pale when he receives a reply of a plentiful fifteen more minutes at minimum from the closed door. He turns back to the handmaiden, urging her to, “Tell them I’ll be down there shortly, and that I was just um… occupied in the bathroom!” he laughs unconvincingly before urging her to leave the corridor and forward the message.

He knocks on the door. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

His heart lightens at the sound of your voice coming from all the commotion. “I, uh…” 

He wanted a chance to at least look at you to see if you were properly fitted for the part before the ball. “I unfortunately have to go down to meet my brother, so I won’t be able to escort you like I promised… but I’ll meet you down there once you’re down!”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “You’re not coming with me?” 

He swears the mild disappointment in your voice is enough to break him whole. “I can’t, I’m so sorry. But both Milly and Meryl know what to do, I’m putting them in your care!”

Vash begins to dart out of the corridor before he pauses and quickly walks back up to Milly, and in a hushed tone, reminds her, “And please… do not forget about my gift to them.”

Prince!Nai hears his name being called aloud from the right side of the ballroom. His silver eyes meet deeper azure ones in sweet relief, before becoming unamused again at the sight of his brother’s hair all tousled, his sash not properly seated across his chest, and his crown sat improperly atop his head.

“Where were you?” Nai mutters to him before fixing the brooch on Vash’s collar. “Everyone was asking about your whereabouts?” 

“Ouch!” Vash exclaims when Nai tightens his collar. “On the toilet. I think I had too much to eat for lunch, haha.”

Nai only looks at him with mild disgust. “No matter,” he waves off. “The fact is that you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Nai’s next few minutes are filled with him commemorating the ball to the currently present guests, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules to celebrate such a festivity with him and letting him host such a regal event. He etches on a fake smile to the people below him, making it subtly known of his position above them on the leveled flooring by refusing to greet them from down below and making them come to his feet.

The last few guests are still flocking in by the time the first couple of dances start, and Nai can’t help but eye Vash’s fidgeting and consistent scanning of the ballroom floor. He watches as Vash’s eyes go to dart at the clock while bouncing on his heels—biting his lip in what seems to be a foreign anticipation of sorts. Nai is about the question if he was alright, seeing as how nervousness was an extremely rare face that his brother would put on until when Vash’s eyes return to the dance floor. They no longer bounce about the crowd but instead, fixate on a specific sight that makes his jaw drop slightly. But when Nai attempts to share the same sight, Vash beelines down to the dance floor, Nai’s shouts of his name falling deaf to his ears. 

He hesitates to follow him, but his foot stops in place and almost enables him to move. Before becoming paralyzed at the sound of his name being called by one of the royal advisors. Nai snaps at him to leave him be, glaring at the man and making the advisor stiffen and scurry away, but when he returns his eyes back to the dance floor, Nai almost loses sight of his twin just before he spots him weaving through the dancers thanks to his bold red suit.

“Vash!” His eyes follow him until Vash slows towards something—no, someone that Nai can’t see thanks to his brother’s broad build. He grits his teeth, almost losing his composure at his brother’s hyperactiveness. 

His tension suddenly seems to ease itself when Vash finally moves out of view to reveal what had gotten him so worked up.

Prince!Vash looks at you breathlessly, eyes wide and an open-lipped smile gazing down upon you as you stare up at him.

“You look…” he scans your complete appearance ever so carefully, savoring every detail.

The flecks of the lights given by the chandelier embellish you in a soft spotlight. Adorned in a shimmering, celeste blue ball gown bespeckled with diamonds that had made everyone around gaze at you in wonder, Vash bit his lip—the color suited you a little too well for his liking. Elbow-length silk gloves snaked their away around arms that were usually shielded with soil-stained gardening gloves, and instead of a wide-brimmed sun hat like you usually wore that hid your face and hair from view, your hair was neatly done and atop your head settled not a sun hat, but a jeweled tiara with matching earrings and a choker that opened up your painted face. 

Normally, you do not get a lot of eyes following during the daytime when you’re in your usual outerwear. But Vash can’t help but feel weary when he sees people eye you with curiosity and admiration in your current attire—some part of it wants to believe that it’s only because you’re talking with him, but all their attention is on you, like his own.

When Vash doesn’t finish his sentence, you worriedly fidget with the itchy material. “Do… Do I look weird?” you inquire with no self-security in your voice. “Is it too flashy—”

“No!” Vash shouts a little too loudly, gaining a couple of stares and raised eyebrows around him. “You look…” he swallows thickly, attempting to find better words to describe your appearance, but all that weakly chokes out is, “beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”

A heat rushes to your face before you softly smile. “Thank you. You look just as dashing tonight, my prince. Oh and uh,” you lift the skirt of your ball gown up slightly, just enough to reveal the beauty of a pair of iridescent, sapphire-dusted glass slippers that sparkle just like the crystals in the chandelier above the ballroom. “Thank you for the gift. Your goodwill is valued greatly.”

He can’t help the bashful smile that creeps onto his lips; it feels like he was just complimented by a divinity themselves. “I-I hope it’s to your liking, and I tried my best to guess your shoe size. Are they too tight? Too large? I can quickly ask for a replacement pair if—”

You hold your gloved hand up to pause his rambling, lips curling into a soft smile. “They’re the perfect fit, my prince.”

Relief floods Vash, and he lets out a dramatic breath that makes you laugh from his antics. The young prince then reaches his hand out towards you, moving aside to let you take a better look at what you desired most—the elegance of a ballroom floor.

“Well then, shall we dance?”

Prince!Nai breathes in sharply as he sees a stranger take his brother’s hand—so sharply it stings his nose, not enjoying how the stranger touches Vash so unbelievably casually. It doesn’t help his case when he doesn’t recognize who the stranger was in the snowy blue ball gown despite him knowing nearly every single person in the ballroom. He first wonders why Vash knows them, then he second guesses himself and asks why they know Vash seeing as how the conversation between the two was friendly—a little too friendly.

He’s brushed with a sense of familiarity, almost. The air feels thinner.

He stares at the two as Vash helps them onto the dance floor, where the stranger seems to already be stumbling over their own two feet. Nai can recognize a face of worry anywhere, and it’s currently plastered on their visage—pursed lips, wide eyes, he’s seen every form of it from the palace’s workers when he’s around.

Another conversation busies itself between them and Vash… and it almost looks like he’s giving the stranger instructions on how to waltz properly. From the looks of it, the stranger seems to be some sort of a viscount or baron, judging from how particularly young they were… but what sort of noble doesn’t know the basics of a waltz? Nai’s brows furrow, his ears drowning out everyone else who tries to receive him in concentration between the two particular individuals on the dance floor.

“Legato,” he chants, his eyes not leaving the two when the stranger accidentally seems to step on Vash’s foot, making them both exclaim in surprise, a short burst of laughter between the two quickly following. “Who is that dancing with Vash? The one in blue.”

“Hm?” his royal secretary looks up from his clipboard and squints at the stranger stiffly dancing. He squints. “I’m not… too sure, your majesty… I don’t think I can recall them on the invitation list.”

“Perhaps a trespasser?” Nai mutters to himself, poorly attempting to hide his horror. It was not uncommon for those not under noble titles to attempt to sneak into festivities they were not allowed into, though they had never made it particularly far. How dare a lowlife commoner sneak onto royal property and seduce his brother?! What sort of things or favors could the stranger possibly want from the royal prince? The thought of his more naive sibling being taken advantage of by a mere villager makes Nai’s blood boil hastily. “Bring them to me at once.”

Prince!Vash looks at you with a partiality embedded into his eyes, watching as your own fleet over the beauty and articulation of the ballroom’s interior and marveling at the people decorated in fancy clothing. Joy is plastered all over your face, even though you’d never admit it.

“How do you take the ball so far?” Vash asks quietly as he gently picks you up on a strengthened beat, settling you down easily. He can hear the clink of your glass slippers being set on the dance floor softly, like two champagne flutes toasting together. 

“It’s all I ever could’ve dreamed about,” you sigh happily. “Thank you again, I truly do appreciate it.”

“I thought I could use the company,” he laughs, “I haven’t run into any weird marquesses or dukes yet, so keep at—” Vash’s smile suddenly falls flat onto the floor at the sight of a familiar bluenette approaching your and his way, a sternness that replicates his elder brother’s on the royal secretary’s face. A nervous bob of his throat attempts to hide itself under his ascot. He can’t let his nerves get to him or you. 

“Legato.”

“My prince,” Legato greets flatly, giving a poor bow that would be completely unacceptable under Nai’s eyes, “Your majesty requests you and your…” Legato’s narrow eyes trace your figure, his brow raising when you look away instead of greeting him. “... accompaniment at once. He would like to meet them properly.”

Vash’s spine freezes, and he can feel you stiffen as you grip his gloved hand a little tighter. “O-of course, we’ll be there in just a mo—.”

“He requests your presence, now.”

He and you can only anxiously follow Legato’s figure in the crowd, a worried glance from you meets his half-secured one, silently telling you, “Rest assured,”

Prince!Nai watches under stone-cold eyes as the mysterious stranger, Vash, and Legato come before him, all three of them bowing in respect to the future king. 

“Vash,” Nai declares, making his younger brother look up, “Would you care to introduce me to… your companion?” he asks, not even attempting to acknowledge the stranger that stands idly beside him. 

There’s a pregnant pause that skims through the thickened air between the three of them before Vash exclaims out in surprise and nods his head rapidly, a large smile (yet somehow doesn’t reach his eyes) plastered on his lips. “A-ah! Yes, of course!” Vash gestures to the person beside him.

Prince!Vash steps aside to introduce you properly, signaling to you that he will do most of the talking for you, giving Nai your given fake name. “They’re the child of a noble from the high court of the kingdom of Marche, and they’re coming on their father’s behalf since he has fallen ill.” 

You curtsy to him out of respect, trying your absolute best to avoid the future king’s cold gaze looking down upon you. “It is such an honor to be invited to such a prestigious event, your majesty.” 

Prince!Nai doesn’t reply to you, only letting out a soft grunt of semi-acknowledgement. His stare doesn’t break from you, though, still halfway convinced that you were who you said you were.

“Marche…” Nai mutters and tucks his chin in between his fingers. “Where is that on the map? I don’t recall such a kingdom.”

“It’s a rather small domain!” Vash exclaims hastily. “It’s up towards the northern hemisphere, so it’s almost entirely covered in snow—! All the way up to one’s knees!”

Nai’s eyes narrow. “And how exactly do you know that?” 

Prince!Vash’s mouth suddenly pools with regret at what he said. Words get caught up in his throat and his mouth hangs open like a fish. 

“Prince Vash was so kind enough to send food and supplies to our kingdom after we were hit with a sudden blizzard,” you interrupt. “Our kingdom thanks him charitably for such generosity.”

The older Saverem turns to look at Vash with a hardened look on his face. “When was this? Why was I not made aware of it?”

“You were too busy with leveling out the war between Augusta and Mei-City during the time,” Vash continues, “I didn’t want to make things worse since you were so stressed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands with Marche.”

Prince!Nai’s irritation seems to grow more and more with the passing seconds that he’s in close proximity with you. He finally takes a step down from the pedestal that sits viewing the ballroom and lifts your chin up with his gloved hand—examining your features. Something about you seems too… retrospective.

Nai thinks it’s too loose of a term.

His face scans your weary eyes, your painted, warbling lips, the slope of your nose, the crease of your eyes… he can’t quite place his finger on it, but your face doesn’t only look familiar, but feels familiar, as well, as if the shape and angles of it mimic someone else. It frustrates him that he just doesn’t know who. All he knows is that you are not worthy of the tiara placed atop your head because it looks too strange… too foreign on you.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmurs as he changes the angles of your face with his hand whilst brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Someone I know. Someone I’ve seen before.” His voice goes criminally soft, so quiet that only you’re able to detect the poison in his voice that stings you with disarray.

You step back a little too rashly. “I have… rather the common face, your majesty,” you excuse with a tight throat.

“I see.” The future king continues to study your features for a few more seconds before almost thrusting your face away from him—you draw a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding as you attempt to regain your balance. Returning his attention to Vash, he merely states, “I’d hate to spoil your fun for tonight, brother. I hope that you and… your company… enjoy yourselves,” before brisking off stiffly somewhere else, most likely somewhere he can quietly watch you two with watchful eyes.

Prince!Vash notices your shaken-up disposition and places a hand on the small of your back to let yourself breathe properly when you and him head back to the floor. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, but your eyes warble with a curtain of glass over them. Vash thins his lips and briefly apologizes again, per usual, for his brother’s antics, attempting to ease you with excuses of how he’s always like that towards people he didn’t know and he’s just too overprotective of him.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” you choke out, pacing a bit forward. “I should probably leave before he really confirms something—”

“No! Don’t!” Vash abruptly grabs your hand and forcefully turns you around to face him before you can escort yourself out the ballroom you had been in for less than half an hour. He had done too much effort for you to be here, it’d be too much of a waste of time (and money!) if you left so early. 

Your eyes widen at his rashness, blinking owlishly. 

“I-I mean… there’s still a lot of time left… and I could really, reallyyy use the company,” Vash pleads and grips your hand a little tighter while he waltzes you onto the ballroom with him. “I promise I won’t let him near you without me,” he softly whispers before the large crescendo from the orchestra.

“Just follow my lead.”

Prince!Nai watches from the corner of his eye as he talks amongst different dukes and earls about the latest news regarding the seven kingdoms, not exactly picking up on their words like he usually does considering his mind was displaced somewhere else that needed his attention more desperately than political scandals. 

He bounces about the ballroom, going from individual to individual in hopes to try and get a better glimpse of Vash and the seemingly uninvited guest from “Marche.” It wasn’t too difficult considering the blue gown you were wearing on the dance floor was eye-catching, but the other people in the crowd made it much too difficult to get an unblocked view of you. Vash doesn’t seem to be letting go of your side, either, unwilling to move more than a couple of meters away from you even as he talks amongst others.

“Livio, what do you know of a kingdom by the name of ‘Marche?’” Nai asks his bodyguard.

The half-masked man turns to him, confused. “I have never heard of such a nation, my prince.”

Nai is half-convinced. Livio had never been all the best at book smarts, let alone geography, so he turns to the embodiment of his second brain, asking the same question. Legato chuckles darkly, clutching something behind him. “I checked the historical archives a few minutes ago, and you would be quite intrigued as to what I had found, your highness.” 

Legato shows him a torn-out, faded map of the seven cities, subcities still etched onto it…

… minus the addition of a particular northern region.

“There is no such nation under the title of ‘Marche’, your highness,” Legato says, a smirk sneaking onto his lips. “Your suspicions were right. That person besides Prince Vash… is a fraud.”

Prince!Vash happily dips you down just before the exuberant song played by the orchestra ends, making you yelp in surprise before laughing aloud with him at his sudden caper. He pulls you up again with ease and wipes the sweat of his brow. “Probably the best song they’ve played so far!” 

“Indeed,” you sigh out as you fan yourself. You never expected a ballroom to become rather stuffy—or perhaps it was the constant dancing you had been doing for the past couple of hours that caused you to become so flushed. “I’m going to get some air outside before I pass out, is that okay?”

Vash, completely forgetting the vow he had made to you at the beginning, nods and tells you he’ll be close by to grab some refreshers and leaves you to your own accord. “Don’t take too long! The final dance is about to begin!”

A soft laugh escapes your lips, nodding before you whisk away to the chilled air of the garden. The night is young—you’ve never felt more alive than you did now. Perhaps you did make the right decision to tag along with the young prince this evening, since starting tomorrow, you would no longer be able to experience the joyous experience of tonight and would have to go back to tending to the garden that you walk about in. A statue honoring the late queen Rem sits in the center of it all, and it gazes upon you with a familiar gentleness. The moon is set high and it smiles down upon you as you breathe fresh air into your lungs again as you settle onto a stone bench that sits in front of the statue, watching as the nocturnal wildlife in the garden play and prance.

A rabbit peers at you from underneath a rose hedge curiously, mimicking your actions as you tilt your head at it. You fight the urge to let out a coo before you motion it towards you, you’ve always had somewhat of a knack with animals. It slowly reveals itself and prances toward you with its eyes mirroring the moonlight before it scurries away when a looming shadow approaches you from behind, obviously frightened.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself quite well tonight,” Prince!Nai declares behind you.

Startled, you let out a soft cry of surprise before you turn around and face austere, glacial orbs that belong to the one and only future king of JuLai. Your heart pulses—already having a sneaking suspicion of why such a prestigious royal figure was isolated with you in the lone garden.

“Y-your highness,” you answer weakly, knees about to give out as you stand on weak legs. You aren’t sure whether the ache from your calves is because of all the dancing or because of the nerves.

“How is the ball?” Nai questions whilst he circles around you like a hawk around its prey. You can only stand so still as you look straight ahead, not daring to look into those eyes. “Is it to your liking? I hope the music fairs nicely, I picked it out myself.”  

Clutching onto the fabric of your gown, you nod compliantly as you continue to avoid eye contact. “You have… great taste in music, my prince.” 

“Why, thank you,” he replies, a confidence he exudes casually distinguished in his voice. “How is the food? The pastries are not too sweet?” 

“Not at all, your highness…” Your nerves slowly begin to freeze over the more laps Nai does around you, caging you in an invisible rope as his eyes never leave your figure, the same eyes that were used to examine you much too closely. 

“That’s good, that’s good,” he mumbles. “Tell me, what foods do you usually have in Marche? I have a particular sweet tooth, are there any desserts you’d recommend me if I were to… take a visit there?” he stops pacing and settles himself in front of you, his aura wading off nothing but dominance. “To just check up on how the state of it is, you know. That must’ve been a terrible blizzard, I’m sure.” 

The inked sky hides your heated sweat, but doesn’t hide your chest rapidly going up and down and your breath betraying you. It falls too short. “There’s…” your words get mixed up, voice going soft. “There’s a cake th-that we eat annually during the celebration of the… the…” 

Nai cocks a brow, tilting his head almost coyly to the side. “The…?”

“The… anniversary of the war against the neighboring kingdom we won a few decades ago,” you complete with little confidence.

“Oh?” Nai’s eyes narrow, a subtle smirk snaking on his lips. “Which kingdom?”

You can feel your voice begin to fail you. Eyes darting around for a familiar tuft of straw blonde hair and a dashing red suit, you don’t seem to spot anyone else in the garden except for you and the future king.“I… I can’t seem to recall, your highness, my apologies…”

He chuckles and comes to your aid all of a sudden and answers for you, instead. “I recall Augusta having conflict with a certain kingdom in my history books, perhaps it was them, then?” 

A haughty laugh and nod sneaks their way past you without second thought. “Y-yes! Augusta—! I’m honored to say that we were able to triumph over them, despite a rather tough beating—”

“Liar.” 

A thick pause goes through the garden before it’s broken by the sudden loud gong of the palace clock, alerting the stroke of midnight was upon you. 

“P-pardon?” you hesitantly ask, turning your head up to the prince before your nerves completely freeze over and paralyze you in your spot at the sight of his ice cold eyes piercing straight into you.

Prince Nai slowly steps towards you, his sullen countenance never faltering. “Augusta… is located in the southwestern hemisphere, where there is nothing but dry land and deserts for iles. I do not think that such a land would be neighboring a kingdom where a blizzard devastated it.” 

Your breath hitches. Vash is nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you look around you, and you are much too far away from the ballroom courtyard to see anyone else that can come to your rescue. Not even the animals of the night seemed to appease you with their presence, leaving you entirely to your own devices in the hands of the future king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet.

“I—must’ve gotten my facts mixed up,” you choke out, feeling the air around you become thinner and thinner with each step Nai takes. “W-was it Augusta? Oh no… it was Dec—”

“December," he starts, his voice knowing. "was perished in an avalanche more than two centuries ago,” Nai interrupts, as he circles behind you. “Nothing, no one remains there except ruin,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending shrills up your spine.

His foot goes to step onto the fabric of your gown, making you fall over backwards and prey to his wrath. Your lip trembles as he looms over you with his broad build. You second-guess your thoughts from minutes earlier, the blood from your heart pumping into your ears all too loudly. 

You should’ve never accepted Vash’s invitation.

You should’ve never put on those beautiful, gifted glass slippers.

You should’ve never given into temptation.

“So now, tell me why…” his voice drops to a poisonous whisper when he crouches beside you. “I also was not able to locate Marche on a recent map.” 

His actions repeat from earlier, but this time, they have too much force and strength. Nai grabs your chin almost painfully and ignores your cries of pain when he squeezes your jaw between his hand, forcing you up on your feet to look up at him.

“Y-your highness—”

“You’re a fraud,” Nai declares venomously. “A fake, a trespasser, and a criminal who wants to squeeze every living cent out of my brother, yes? Tell me, you pest…” his grip on your jaw tightens so harshly, you’re frightened that your cheeks, now beginning to stain with pained tears, will bruise from his fingers and your attempt at prying his fingers off work to no avail. You’re frightened that your teeth will squeeze out of their cavings from the strength of his grip. “What did you want from Vash? Money? Jewels? Or did you wish to harm him in the work of another kingdom? Are you a spy? Answer me, snake.”

Your rapid shakes of your head do not convince Nai that you aren’t a threat at all, only making his hand that grips your jaw go to your throat. “I am none of th-those…”

“Liar!” Nai thunders, his voice booming throughout the garden as he draws his sword from his hip and places it aside your throat, the prick of the blade grazing your skin. Nai’s eyes wind with malice as your gaping ones that tangle with fear stare straight at him. “Tell me the truth or face a fate worse than death it—”

“Nai! Let go of them!” 

Prince!Vash goes to sprint towards you from the entrance of the palace’s courtyard. Nai drops you out of shock and your fight or flight instincts finally begin to kick in when your nerves thaw from the shock. 

You watch for another split, merciful second as Vash quickens in pace, but he’s still much too far to reach you in time. As you get up, your slippers barely supporting your weight, fatigue is beginning to kick in much too early. The muscles in your limbs ache and suddenly feel all too heavy for your liking, but with a final burst of strength given to you by an unknown will, you manage to get away from his grasp by shoving him. The strength shocks both you and him, however, and launches you straight backwards into the stone statue of the late queen. You can only watch in horror as it lands forward, shattering into little pebbles of cobblestone. 

The impact of the statue of Rem Saverem knocks you down to your feet again, as well as Prince!Nai, and he uses your disposition to his advantage before you can start your getaway. His hand determinedly locks around the heel of your slipper as he hisses out, “You… are not going anywhere, trespasser.” 

“Please—!” you cry out as you tug with all your strength from his grip, vision blurring from the tears that rim around your eyes. “I meant no harm!” 

Another wave of strength fueled by adrenaline rushes through your body and through the fatigue, through the fear, through the horror of it all, you manage to slip your foot away from your slipper before finally sprinting away.

Prince!Nai begins to get up and chase after you until he’s tackled shockingly by Vash, forcing the two into a wrestling fight on the dirt. Nai shouts at him to let go and chase after the trespasser, with Vash retaliating with a firm decline and holding him down to the best of his abilities whilst taking in the kicks and punches and insults Nai forces upon him. Unwillingly, he blows a punch to Nai’s gut and Nai spits out a mixture of blood and saliva, doubling over on the garden floor that’s now littered with trashed petals of flowers and speckles of stone and marble because of two. 

The head of Queen Rem Saverem’s eyes glisten up at them almost disappointingly in the moonlight.

Vash staggers up slowly, limping from the scratch marks his elder brother clawed into his leg. He glares at his brother through a black eye. “They said it themselves, they meant no harm!”

“Who were they, Vash?!” Nai cuts in, glaring up at him. “If they meant no harm… who were they?!”

Prince!Vash can only look at Nai almost pityingly as his chest rises and falls. If he were to admit who you truly were… he knew for a fact Nai would have you exiled from the kingdom… or worse, executed entirely. He couldn’t let that happen—even with his excuses that he was the one that dragged you into this mess. His brother’s bias towards him could never be swayed.

He licks his lips, his eyes glancing at your minimizing figure in the distance.

“I…”

“Your highnesses!”

Prince!Nai and Prince!Vash look behind them to see Livio, Monev, and Legato rushing toward the two, all three appalled at the scene in the now-ruined portion of the garden and the sight of two dirtied princes with dirt and blood soiling them. 

They do not have time to ask what on earth had happened, as Nai has already devised a plan to capture and punish the trespasser accordingly. His eyes fleet over to the crystal slipper clenched firmly in his fist, tightening it in his grasp more at the sight of it as a reminder of his failure to properly protect his brother from the lowlife that call themselves commoners.

 “Tomorrow…” he heaves with a steady breath, his eyes darkening as he stares at the slipper, “Get every single young person in the kingdom into the palace and force this upon their foot. 

“This…” He raises up the glass slipper for all of them to see. “... shall help us catch our criminal and punish them accordingly.”

“Nai—” Vash pleads through a bleeding lip. “Don’t!”

“Once you do find who suits the slipper,” Nai continues, before turning to where you ran off. His eyes bleed into your disappearing figure venomously before he picks up his sword and throws it at Legato’s feet. 

“Bring them to me at once. Alive. I want to see them beheaded with my own two eyes.”

(a/n): hi again! i recently just watched the 2015 live action version of cinderella, and my, was it gorgeous. as the main inspo for this piece, i hope that the cinderella aspects were clear enough in this with my own twists to the story, since that was my main aim. i may include another part to this, maybe even turning it into a miniseries as a whole for all the nai lovers out there (i did him dirty here, sorry!!) because i myself want to include something for him, but i'll see how this piece does first and if anyone would be interested in a part ii to this.

other than that, thank you for reading, and reblogs are always appreciated :] !!

[centrally-unplanned]

Partner M and I did a (re- for me) watch of the first half of Season 2 of Sailor Moon (Sailor Moon R for the real ones), the infamous "filler" arc made because the manga wasn't really caught up yet, and it has confirmed for me that this is the better half of the season. Which is a problem, because if you consult a typical 'watch guide', they will recommend skipping it! This is because none of the events are "relevant to the plot of the later content", i.e. none of it comes up again.

You can see the logic but guys, it's Sailor Moon. The plot generally just isn't that relevant, almost none of the events "come up again" between seasons. Whether or not it is "in the manga" isn't really a guide to what makes the anime good. Honestly a lot of the watch guides out there are bad for this reason - the plot of Sailor Moon isn't why you watch it! The plot is mid. The charm comes from design ethos and the creativity of the team, which generally gets to flourish way more in the slice-of-life-esque "filler" episodes. And meanwhile if you skip plot episodes the idea that that is a problem is, look, "this is Chibiusa. She is Usagi's daughter from the future, visiting to learn about friendship". Done, you can now skip the entirety of Season 2 if you wanted to. It's a show for 10 year olds, believe in yourself.

Anyway the "core" part of Season 2 is the worst season of the show. Chibiusa sucks as an annoying child who won't communicate, Mamoru really sucks doing the "I must protect Usagi by pushing her away" trope, and the villains are pretty weak. It spends a lot of time on not the main girls, which is a big mistake. Meanwhile! The "filler" arc of Season 2 is about two alien elves who are Learning To Love with crushes on Usagi & Mamoru (so the plot is ABOUT them), each of the inner senshi get new powers with episodes focused on them, and Usagi/Mamoru get a whole romantic arc. The slice-of-life elements are great; standout episodes are the picnic one, the Snow White one, and Jupiter's hilarious date with the main villain guy. And most importantly it is tight - full story, told in 13 episodes. You can watch it as like it's own show and it can work.

Also Mamoru's subconscious is Muslim; dude got some real Yu-gi-oh shit going on in there. Good times.

So yeah, ignore all the watch guides. If you are going to watch Season 2, definitely watch episodes 1 -13, then maybe watch a selection of the best "filler" episodes from the rest and just go right to Season 3. Or watch the whole thing, up to you, it is Sailor Moon after all: charming even when it is at its worst. But don't skip the arc because it is "filler".