#happen but like after the a t l a live action i am more concerned about the one piece one

[demonio-fleurs]

my partner offhandedly said “what if they reveal robins background in season of the live action” and i went from having 1 concern about season 2 to like 2 in the span of five seconds

[skiller0dani]

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

//

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

//

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

//

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

[lumina-rose]

Tear You Apart

Chapter 2/4

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32168824/chapters/79765408#workskin 

Pairing:

Laszlo x Reader

Summary:

Mere months after the conclusion of the Beecham case, Dr.Kreizler and his associates are asked once again to solve a new series of murders that plague the streets of New York. They are joined by the alienist's new assistant, who's presence soon unravels startling revelations. Not only within the case, but also within the mind of one of their own.

(This story is set between the events of Season 1 and Season 2)

Warnings:

Murder Mystery, Graphic Description of Corpses, slight dark!Laszlo (kinda. Think Will “This is my design” Graham), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Minor Violence, Friends to Lovers,Assistant, Boss/Employee Relationship,Tension, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining.

(More Future Warnings TBD)

Notes:

Chapter 2: Love & Hate

It had been a full day since your strange interaction with Dr. Kreizler.

After waiting to for him to gather everyone involved with the investigation, you were troubled when no call came. Part of you worried that it was due to your disturbing experience, but you fought back your anxieties with logic. Even if something had happened between the two of you, Laszlo would never let it interfere with the case. Still, that did not stop you from worrying about the alienist. Your mind constantly returning to that moment.

His tired appearance, caused by countless hours of work and stress, which were aided by sleepless nights theorizing the motives and background of the murderer that haunted New York. The vacant trace-like state that overtook him, as though his actions were being controlled by something else. Someone else. The warm feeling of his palm against your skin, a feeling that would have been calming and welcome, had it not been placed around your throat. Yet, the firm but gentle hold had thrilled you- excited you. But it also frightened you. And even now, you debated your mixed, complex emotions. There was fear, yes, but excitement too. Or was there both? Or were they the same? What was the difference between the two?

You had felt like this before, in fleeting moments and never quite as strong. You had felt it with small admirers from your past, though nothing ever came from these interactions. You had felt it when you first began your work at the Kreizler Institute, upon seeing the care taken to provide the city's troubled youth with a sanctuary, free from the pressures of society. And recently, in small moments with Dr. Kreizler, himself, after working by his side tirelessly. On your trips to the Opera, when you both would be given a chance to simply talk- not about work or the mentally ill- just genuine conversations, discussing your hobbies, interests, and hopes for the future. One particular moment had stuck out to you, thinking back. It had been late, and you had joined Kreizler back at his home after a long day of work. You shared a drink together, when he finally asked you what you hoped to gain from learning from him.

Usually when men asked about what you wanted to do as a working woman, they were against the notion that you wished to become an alienist, believing that a woman could never become a doctor despite the fact that there were a rare few that already were. Indeed, even with the likes of Marcus, Lucius, and John Moore there was apprehension. With Dr. Kreizler, however, he never tried to persuade you otherwise and spoke only with respect and encouragement in regards to your dream. Ever since that moment, you had harbored affection for the alienist, though you would never act on it. If not for the sake of your own feelings, then for Laszlo's reputation.

"Ms. (L/n)?"

Your mind found its way back to the present, returning you to your surroundings. You stood in the small apartment that had become your home, a space you had rented out from a Mr. Louis Arnett. He was an older man who had been left a widower, and remained unmarried to this day. While he was a bit older than yourself, perhaps eleven years your senior, it wasn't impossible to imagine the possibility of him remarrying. It often made you wonder if his lack of interest in remarriage was due to his age or grief. Due to the sudden passing of his late wife, he had moved to a new house in the city, but offered for you to live in his previous residence, as long as you kept paying your bill on time. Since the Kreizler Institute was more generous in terms of wages, that had never been an issue for you. Still, sometimes the older landlord would come by to check on the space, often taking time to sit and chat with you despite your insistence that it wasn't necessary.

"I must apologize, Mr. Arnett." You sighed, giving a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I'm afraid my mind is elsewhere as of late."

The older gentleman sat at a small table in the center of the room, drinking from a cup. He wore his typical suit, all black- save for one pin attached to his tie. A lily was depicted on the small item, as a tribute to his late wife. You eyed the item warily now, only being reminded of the bloodied bouquets.

He gave an understanding look. "As I can imagine. Nasty business. I must say, I'm rather concerned about that alienist you say you work for....Kreshner, was it? Letting a lady such as yourself work well into the night, with all these horrible attacks going on."

"Kreizler. Doctor Kriezler." You corrected. Another burning heat flashed through you, upon Arnett's mentioning of your employer, wrapping around the collar of your dress jacket. "As for myself, I am capable of finding my way home safely."

"Of that, I am certain. I do hope the man doesn't keep you there too late." Arnett relented, chuckling slightly at your reaction.

You turned to the landlord, scoffing.

"I assure you, if Dr. Kreizler had it his way, I'd be back well before the sun had begun to set. If anything, it's at my insistence that I spent so much time at the Institute."

"Is that so?"

You were used to speaking casually with the older gentleman, during such visits, but your comment seemed to intrigue the man. Perhaps you should be a bit more careful with your words. You stiffened slightly, rushing to correct your mistake.

"With the attack of those four women, I believe we should be using what time we have to catch the person responsible. My beauty sleep can wait, for now."

The man nodded, thinking for a moment, before standing to come closer to my side. Holding a hand out, he gave a quick goodbye. "Very well, Ms. (L/n). I suppose I shouldn't keep you. Though, I do wish you would take care of yourself."

"I thank you for your concern, Mr. Arnett." You nodded. "I should be heading to the Institute soon, anyways. Perhaps I can walk you down?"

"You are too kind, my dear."

You brushed off the endearment, convincing yourself it was merely a phrase he used often, and went to join the man in his exit. Once outside, the sounds and smells of the street hit you, reminding you that even with a killer on the loose, nothing could stop the momentum of New York. You escorted Mr. Arnett on the sidewalk, waiting as he attempted to hail a cab. After a few long minutes of idle conversation, a small carriage approached, stopping before the two of you. You gave a quick goodbye to the landlord, beginning to rush him away, as you grew more concerned with the time. Finally, once the cab was out of sight, you let out a heavy sigh.

It wasn't that the man's company was unpleasant. In fact, you were grateful to find a landlord in the city who was so welcoming and reasonable with rent prices, there was just something about Mr. Arnett that seemed odd. It was as though he sought to interject himself into a person's life, whether or not it was welcomed. Though you were now used to the man's occasional visits, it had been a bit unsettling at first. From what you'd heard before moving here, most people in the city didn't bat an eye when it came to the lives of strangers. Then again, he was a widower, offering up what used to be his home to anyone who would be willing to pay. Maybe having a woman in the house reminded him of happier times?

Now on your own, your mind was drawn back to Dr. Kreizler and the investigation that had taken over your current daily life. You had been a bit untruthful in your conversation with Mr. Arnett earlier, in saying that you needed to return to the Kriezler Institute for the day. In fact, you had been given the day off in advance by the alienist, for what he called a "well deserved break". Nevermind the fact that he had ignored you when you suggested he do the same. Looking back on it now, you wished he had taken your advice. These murders were clearly effecting him, if yesterday was any indication.

The walk to the Institute had been short, given that you only lived a few city blocks away. Even from the sidewalk outside, you could hear the cheers and laughter of the children inside, followed quickly by the voice of one of the matrons. You smiled lightly, knowing that at least the patients of the Institute seemed happy, despite the dark times the city was currently facing. It reminded you why your efforts in the investigation were so important. You faced the ugliest parts of life, so that they wouldn't have to.

When you entered the front doors of the Institute, you were relieved to see that no one appeared to be in the halls. While you usually enjoyed the company of the children, you didn't want to be pulled away from your current goal of finding Dr. Kreizler. You made your way towards the alienist's study, knowing you might find him there. After the fourth victim had been found, there was no doubt in your mind that he had once again stayed up all night, trying to go over every detail of the murder.

You found the door to the doctor's study left ajar, a sight that unsettled you. You crept inside, calling out softly for the doctor, before stepping in fully. After receiving no response, you glanced around. The walls of bookshelves towered over you, but you noticed spaces were there were empty slots where certain books were meant to be, no doubt to help create the ever-growing mountain on the main center table. Papers and pages were scattered about, messily, along with notes and photos from the murder victims. A chalk board had been placed inside the study, and had stayed there ever since the new case began. Countless questions were written, some organized to certain corners, while others were placed haphazardly.

Sleep fascination? Somnophilia?

Meaning of Flowers? Personal or Symbolic?

Physical Strength- perhaps a labor worker or military background?

Love and Hate?

Your eyes landed on the last question, drawing you back to your last discussion with Sara. Only now it seemed the question wasn't love or hate, rather love and hate. Much like your fear and excitement, it seemed Dr. Kreizler was starting to blur the two. In your distraction, you had failed to notice the door to the side laboratory open, where Laszlo emerged from, followed closely by a young girl.

"Ms. (L/n)?"

The gentle questioning tone in words were countered only by the rough, scratchiness in his voice. Turning quickly, you gave the doctor a startled stare. The circles under his eyes were darker, confirming your suspicions, but you were pleased to see that he had taken the time to clean up his appearance overnight.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Kreizler, I had called for you but you never answered." You explained.

"It's quite alright, I was just talking with Loretta." He gave a small smile to the girl, who clung to his good hand. When his eyes came back to you, a small jolt went through you. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Never."

The man quickly told the young girl to go join the other children outside, earning a silent nod and goodbye from her. As she rushed out, her hair bounced behind her, as she eagerly went to find her friends. You couldn't help but grin. Loretta was one of the more troubled youths. After an incident with a wild dog as a small child, she had been left with an intense fear of all animals. That fear later formed into troubling habits of torturing and hurting any creature she came across. Even going as far as to set fire to a neighboring cat's tail. You never would expect such a sweet smile to hide such violent tendencies.

"How did she react to the monkey?" You asked, curiously, looking back at Laszlo.

"She's improved, but is still afraid of them unless someone shows that they're friendly. It may be a while until she can deal with animals on her own." He nodded, mostly to himself, as if making a mental note. He stayed in his spot, by the door, as he continued. "I wasn't expecting you, I'm afraid. I believe I told you that you could have the day off."

"You did."

"And yet, you are here."

Still, he remained in place, as if he wanted to be near an exit at all times. You paused for a moment, stepping back towards the chalk board.

"I wanted to discuss something with you, but if you are otherwise occupied, I can wait." You said.

He stepped closer now, but still a good distance away. For some reason, that fact irked you. "Then you caught me at just the right moment. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

Ah, avoidance.

You didn't miss the fake curiosity in his tone, as he vaguely asked you what was on your mind. It was a test, and you both knew it. Would you mention his strange behavior? Did you dare? Did you want to? Did he want you to, or was this simply an attempt to forget the action, altogether?

You bit the inside of your cheek, biting back a frown. Two could play these games. "I wanted to share a thought I had about the case."

Instantly, Kreizler approached the table, overlooking the piles of read and unread books, in order to watch your expression, gauge your behavior. His expression became serious. "Go on?"

"I was thinking about why the killer used chloroform on his victims, despite failing to render them unconscious." You answered, your eyes meeting his. "I thought about the possibility that perhaps putting them to sleep wasn't his goal, nor was it to be used as a painkiller. As you pointed out, if reducing pain was it's purpose then he wouldn't resort to strangling the women. So then what if his goal was merely to disorient them, to make them unable to fight back? Perhaps the combination of panic and the effects of the drug caused them to go into shock? If that were his goal, then that would explain why he continues to use it."

The alienist pondered this for a moment. "He’s created an obsession with his true target, creating a delusion and using his victims as substitutes for her. If this is true, then perhaps the use of chloroform was simply a desperate attempt to keep them from fighting, from breaking the illusion he's created in his mind."

"That would also explain why he would then turn to using violence against them when they struggled." You nodded. "I suspect our latest victim fought a bit harder than the others, due to the stronger markings on her."

"It also supports the killer’s effort to cover up the wounds of the struggle. It would suggest that the victims didn’t want it to happen, when his delusion depends on their submission to him." Laszlo added, looking over the photographs. "He's become obsessed his target, taking pleasure from the idea that they will accept him, and escalating to violence when he's denied that pleasure."

He moved with a strong purpose, over to the chalk board, writing down a new series of thoughts and questions. There was a serious focus in his gaze, contradicted by a light glint in his brown eyes. You focused on his hand, as he quickly scratched the white chalk against the board's surface, following its path until he was done. The doctor stepped back, his chest heaving up and down slightly. A slight, satisfied smirk on his face.

"How did you come to this conclusion?" He asked, curiously, sighing.

A burning blush had reached your face, and your heart raced at the fact that your theory had brought some level of joy to the man. Blinking, you looked away, slightly embarrassed by your reaction. "I had an idea back at the morgue, before you..."

...before you grabbed my throat. You had trailed off, not wishing to speak the words aloud. Still, It seemed your message got through to Laszlo.

Now his eyes turned away, looking to the ground, as a rosy color reached the apples of his cheeks. There was a mixture of emotions in his expression, ones you could see he was fighting to hold back. Shame, embarrassment, regret, and something more. He no longer stood far away from you, as he had been just a moment before, yet you could tell he wanted nothing more than to be closer to the exit of the room.

“I must apologize, it was improper on my part and disrespectful to your boundaries." A hand went through his hair, a nervous reaction. "I fear I’m not sure what came over me.”

He didn't seem capable of looking at you, and you found yourself desperate to see his eyes. Taking a small step towards him, his head slowly turned to you. You gave him a reassuring smile.

"This case has been disturbing for all of us, Doctor, I won't blame you for being effected by it. Trying to understand the thoughts of the person responsible for these acts has proven to me that there is darkness in all of us... and that it's hard not to be consumed by it." You said, hoping to sound understanding.

You now stood only a couple feet away. His eyes met yours, as his expression gave way to something softer. "I’m not sure how I could make it up to you, after frightening you in such a way. If I still...”

Now you understood. There was the slightest tremor in his voice, but it was there. He was afraid. Afraid of his actions, afraid of how you'd react, afraid that you were scared of him now.

"I don't fear you, Laszlo." You admitted, softly. "I fear for you. If you truly wish to make it up to me, then allow yourself a break, if only for a day."

"I.." He shook his head, stubbornly, and glanced back to the photographs. "I can't-"

"-you will do no good if you work yourself to death before we even find a suspect." You countered, standing your ground. "Perhaps time away would clear your head. Please, Laszlo."

You bit you lip, as you prayed your heart would stop racing. You knew that Kreizler could be stubborn, often not listening to reason once he'd made up his mind. He paused, debating whether or not to listen to your advice. The ghost of a smile flickered over his face, before disappearing just as quickly as it came.

"How long has it been since we last went to the opera?"

You stared, unable to process his question for moment, as you focused solely on the word: “We”. After your initial shock, you cleared you throat. "I..I believe a month, perhaps?"

In truth, you weren't sure. After your investigation began, days and nights began to blur. You knew it had been more than a couple of weeks, at the least. Kreizler chuckled, softly.

"Well, then we must remedy that, shouldn't we?"

You weren't sure why you were so nervous. Going to the opera with Laszlo wasn't a first for you, so why did it feel so different this time?

You stared at yourself in the mirror, after changing into yet another dress for the outing. Perhaps it was because you felt surprised that Laszlo had asked you to join him, after the events of the day before. Or maybe it was because you couldn't get his actions out of your head, constantly thinking back to the feeling of his hand on you. You had been understanding that his action wasn't completely his own in that moment, but had that changed anything between you? Had he thought back to that moment, as you had?

Surely not, since you were about to accompany the alienist for the night. Then again, when you had insisted that he took a break, you didn't think he'd want to spend it with you, and yet here you were: stressing over what you should wear to the engagement. You wondered if you were just making a big deal out of nothing. He had said he wanted to make it up to you, and perhaps this was a compromise he'd found acceptable, allowing you both to have a night without worry or stress.

"Foolish." You sighed at your reflection, and the obvious blush that overtook your features, making it clear that it was not simply makeup that gave your cheeks a darkened color. "Absolutely foolish."

It wasn't often that you wore your formal attire, nor did you have an entire day to prepare for the night ahead. The payoff was that you looked far better than usual, a small comfort for your nerves. Was this too much? The question was now an echo in the seemingly endless cave that made up your mind. You shook your head, turning away from the mirror, once again cursing yourself for thinking in such a manner. Regardless, it was far too late now to worry about these little details, as the clock in your home rang out, signalling the time. You'd have to leave soon in order to make it to the theater at a reasonable time.

Every so often, as you began to gather you things for the night, your mind returned back to the investigation. You'd scold yourself. Tonight was a break, you didn't need to think about the horrors you'd seen. Laszlo needed this. Lord knows you needed this. Despite your nervousness, tonight was just a fun outing with a dear friend. And you intended to enjoy it, while you still had the chance.

A knock at your door startled you, as you prepared to leave for the evening. A shadow danced under the crack at the bottom of your door, signalling that there was indeed someone there, and not just your ears plating tricks on you. Cautiously, you reached for the knob. Was someone meant to visit today? No, you wouldn't have forgotten if Sara or the Isaacson twins were meant to come by.

When you opened the door, a man stood there, smiling down at you.

"Oh, hello Cyrus!" You greeted, sighing in relief.

The tall man gave you a nod, a smile playing out over his features. "Ms. (L/n)."

"Why..I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you, has.. Has something happened?"

Your heart and mind raced together. Had Laszlo changed his mind? No, he wouldn't be so rude as to cancel your plans last minute. Unless there was something important. Had another body been found?

Cyrus chuckled, shaking his head. "No, nothing of the sort. Dr. Kreizler just asked if Stevie and I could take you to the opera."

"Oh." It's all you could say, as you fought back another flush from your face.

"You look lovely tonight, Ms. (L/n)." Cyrus said, comfortingly, before turning his head back to the street. 

There, Laszlo's young ward, Stevie, sat at the driver's seat of the carriage, clearly itching to leave, so that he might race through the streets. You smiled, unable to hold back your joy.

"Thank you, Cyrus."

You had already gathered your belongings for the evening, not that there was really much you could bring, only a small bag attached to your wrist. You stepped out of your home, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You hurried down the front steps to the sidewalk, where you were promptly let into the empty carriage. Once inside and settled, you beamed, unable to contain yourself. You reasoned that your unexpected escort was probably due to concerns for your safety at this time of night, and nothing more. Still, a certain lightness in your chest emerged, bubbling up inside you, causing you to beam as you looked out the side window. 

You heard Stevie cheer out, and suddenly the vehicle pulled forwards. After a moment, you felt the wheel hit a large bump. You laughed after a second of surprise. Maybe your ride wouldn't be as calm as Doctor Kreizler had expected, but you couldn't find it within you to care.

When you finally made it to the theater, you had arrived a bit earlier than you expected. Not that you should be surprised, given how Stevie raced you through the city. On the carriage had stopped, Cyrus opened the door and bid you farewell. You watched the boy-driven carriage disappear into the night, before turning to face the opera house. The building was a towering structure, with large marble beams that made up the entrance. The warm, yellow light from the inside called to you, ushering you to join the fun. Given that Cyrus hadn't told you when Laszlo would arrive, you assumed he was waiting there for you. Picking up the skirt of your dress, you began your climb up the stairs, a slight urgency in your step.

You had found him a few minutes later, standing by the large stair case that lead to the upper level seats of the theater. Before he had seen you, you took a moment to admire his form. You had seen him in his formal suit before, a simple black suit with a white bow tie, but you always had to stop and admire the expensive outfit. He also had his cane with him, the one with the bird handle that you had once said you liked before. The one detail you thought was odd was the fact that he held the item with his right hand, as opposed to his left. Due to the weakness in the arm, he usually kept it close to his side in order to keep from hurting himself. It was only until he pulled a pocket watch from his vest with his dominant arm that you understood the change.

You walked towards him, until your approaching figure finally drew his attention. With a shy smile, she greeted the man. "I hope I'm not too late."

He shook his head, giving you a warm look. "Right on time."

He seemed rested now, compared to earlier, no longer wearing the dark circles that had plagued him for the last couple of days. You felt happy, knowing that he must have taken a break from the day as well.

"I apologize for sending Cyrus and Stevie to you without warning, I thought it'd be best if you didn't travel alone." He explained, before quickly looking over you. "You look beautiful tonight, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Laszlo." You replied, blushing, while clasping your hands together nervously. "Though, you didn't have to go through all the trouble."

"It was no trouble at all. Stevie, in particular, seemed more than willing."

When the crowd of people began to move into the auditorium, you joined Laszlo as he led you up the stairs, towards the direction of the private box seats. You were a bit surprised to see this, given that he had gotten the tickets on such short notice. As you entered the box, you each took a seat next to each other, with you seated in your usual spot on his left. The opera you were watching was Aida, a story about an Ethiopian princess of the same name who was held captive in Egypt, and fell in love with an Egyptian general, Radames, and he with her, despite being promised to the Egyptian princess. As the show began, Laszlo quickly explained to you that the opera had been made by Antonio Ghislanzoni and Giuseppe Verdi, and had premiered December 24th, 1871. You chuckled, mostly to yourself, as you knew he'd be listing off little facts like this throughout the night.

As the show went on, you slowly realized a running theme in the show, in relating to it's star characters. Love & Hate. You found it a bit ironic, given the circumstances. In the first act, Aida, the main character, loves her country deeply but has hate for the Egyptians who have taken her and her people captive. Including Radames, as he continues to fight against her country. Time passes in the story, and the two begin to fall for one another. You were impressed with how the performer playing Aida was able to portray the conflicting emotions of the character- with her love for her country and her love for Radames, as she begins to fall for the Egyptian general. 

One of the reasons that made Laszlo's company so enjoyable was his ability to talk during a show, without taking away or distracting you from the experience. Often times, he'd speak quietly, leaning slightly for you to hear him over the music. He'd go on to tell you the historical origins that the opera was based on, and you had a feeling he had studied the opera before coming here. It seemed nearly impossible for him to know so much, if that were not the case. However, once the music began and each new song was sung, Laszlo's words would fall silent as all his focus was placed on the stage. Occasionally, his hand would twitch in the edge of you vision, pulling away your focus to the watch as his fingers shot up and down in the air, as though he were trying to play something.

Act Two played out similarly to the first, but showed how Radames fights with his own loyalties. By the end, the Egyptian general asked for the Pharaoh to release Aida and her people, but the Pharaoh would only accept if the general agrees to marry his daughter. Once the woman on stage stopped singing, the curtains closed and lights flickered back on. Already, some of the crowd had begun to leave the auditorium, in order to socialize with the other members of New York's society.

The two of you join them, going out into the crowded halls and lobby in order to celebrate your evening. Drinking champagne, you exclaimed your love for the story so far, as well as the performer's work. Laszlo agreed, complimenting the orchestra as well, before listening to your thoughts on the characters, occasionally interjecting how it's history was exaggerated for the sake of entertainment. Truly, you felt content in this moment, sharing your same passions with the alienist, while being able to give each other new thoughts and opinions. 

You were both finishing up your drinks, when your name had been called from some far off part of the room. Turning, you were shocked to see none other than Louis Arnett for the second time today. The man came over to you, dressed to the nines.

"Mr. Arnett, what a surprise to see you." You greeted, politely. "I thought I recalled you saying you weren't fond of the opera?"

"I've been known to come on the rare occasion." He replied. "It's a pleasure to see you, my dear. Lovely, as always. I also seem to recall the fact that I said you could call me Louis."

Kindly, you shook your head in denial. "I apologize, Mr. Arnett, but I highly doubt that'd be appropriate."

Before, you may have brushed off the endearments, but now they were beginning to irritate you. Especially with Laszlo present. Turning your head, you looked at Laszlo, who's warm smile had returned to his usual subdued expression.

"Mr. Arnett, I must introduce you to Dr. Kreizler!" You said, steering the conversation away from you. Laszlo gave you a confused expression, before you quickly explained: "Mr. Arnett was kind enough to open his home to me for such a low price, when I first moved here. He'll stop by on occasion."

Laszlo smiled, giving Arnett a nod, before placing his cane back into his right hand. With his left, he shook your landlord's hand, introducing himself.

"Ah, the alienist." Arnett hummed. "Tell me, Kreizler, do you always take your assistants with you to the opera? One might think you're trying to keep (Y/n) all to yourself!"

"Mr. Arnett, please." You hissed out, appalled.

Arnett chuckled, but you found nothing about his words humorous. Not only were they rude, given the circumstance, but the implication alone was entirely inappropriate. You also despised how he had spoken as if you weren't right there in front of him. Laszlo was clearly uncomfortable with the man's words, but tried his best to hide it.

The alienist merely sighed. "While it's true, Ms. (L/n) does work with me, It's been a pleasure to enjoy her company. Though she does assist me with my work at the Institute, I'm honored to consider her a close colleague and friend."

The last word was barely more than a small whisper, yet Arnett seemed to catch it. The older man nodded in understanding, before looking to you.

"I understand entirely. I don't blame you for wanting to spend more time with her, especially way from those horrible murders."

You blushed, stiffening slightly at the mentioned case. "Mr. Arnett, I'm afraid the purpose of our outing was to get away from the investigation. I'd highly appreciate it if we could enjoy our night in peace."

"Ah," He cleared his throat, embarrassed at your reaction. His hand went up to smooth out his tie, his thumb brushing over the lily pin. "I apologize. Of course you wouldn't wish to speak of it here. " Something in the distance seemed to catch the older man's eye, drawing his attention. "If you'll excuse me, I must be going."

You found yourself stunned at his erratic behavior, as he moved away back into the crowd. Once out of earshot, you let out a heavy sigh, turning to Laszlo with an apologetic look.

"I must apologize for Mr. Arnett. He has a tendency to overstep in conversations. I hope he didn't offend you too greatly."

Kreizler's brown eyes had followed Arnett, before finally looking back to you. While his smile hadn't returned, the warm look he gave you had. "John has, on occasion, accused me of doing the same. I suppose its only right that I should have to experience the same hardships I deal to others."

With that, the crowd was then directed back into the auditorium, as intermission drew to a close. To your surprise, Laszlo had offered you his arm, as you both returned to the private section. As the curtains rose and the next act began, you found yourself thinking about Mr. Arnett's strange behavior and how he'd spoken with Laszlo. You could understand if the man didn't like the alienist, given that Dr. Kreizler didn't have the best reputation among most of New York. Still, you weren't prepared for how casually he had disrespected him and spoke about you as though you were merely there to entertain them. Your chest felt warm, as you recalled how kindly Laszlo had spoken about you, complimenting your company. However, the way his voice has weakened upon calling you a friend had stirred all your anxieties back to the surface.

As the first song began, you looked to Laszlo, admiring him as he watched the show. Did he truly see you as a friend? Or was his hesitation an indicator of something more?

The third act began, with the story immediately picking up where it left off. Aida and her lover, Radames, perform in a song, where the characters are lamenting their forbidden and doomed romance. Once the song ends, Aida then began to plead with the gods, praying that they take pity on her people and the two lovers. In such dark times, as the one you live in now, you felt as though you would've done the same, had you believed in such a God. 

With the song at an end, you had expected Laszlo to then make another small comment about the show. However, when his gaze remained focused on the stage, you found yourself a little disappointed. It wasn't until you felt a warm brush against your hand, that your attention switched. It was brief, just for a moment, but Laszlo's left hand had touched yours, yet his eyes remained in place. Somehow, it seemed as though he hadn't noticed. Or if he had, he didn't mind. You blinked, clearing your throat silently, before looking back to the stage. The next song began, and followed the story with interest, wondering what would come of the two main characters, and the enslaved people of Ethiopia. 

Once again, you felt his hand against your own. There was no doubt now. Without moving you head, your eyes went back to his hand, a finger draped over your own. Slowly, you moved your hand into his, your palm covering over his own. Your heart raced, and the room felt significantly warmer. You began to doubt yourself, cursing whatever god there was for your foolish actions. But it all stopped, as his fingers wrapped into your own. You felt your breath hitch, but fell into a comfortable silence, watching the opera with a racing heart. As the song came to an end, you weren't sure if you welcomed it's conclusion or mourned it.

Laszlo turned, facing you. Even with the dim lights of the theater, you could make out the pink color of his cheeks and neck, as he continued to stare at you. His eyes held the same intensity as the day before, but that vacant expression was gone, replaced with something much softer. A binding energy trapped you in place, unable to look away. Even as the music began, signalling the next song, the doctor did not break his stare. Instead, his gaze slowly traced over you, a soft caress.

It wasn't until the music softened, transitioning from a loud crescendo to a soft steady melody, that you heard him whisper your name, as if asking something. You responded with his own.

You didn’t know who let go of the other’s hand, but it didn’t matter. Kreizler’s hand slowly reached up to you, the back of his fingers brushing over your cheek, as he pushed back a small section of your hair behind your ear, before finding it's destination against your jaw. He was hesitant to lean into you, not wishing to overstep your boundaries. It until you matched his actions, did the space between you disappear.

It was a small, innocent kiss. Even as you broke away, you felt the soft gentle buzzing on your lips. Your noses brushing, you looked up at him, staring into those brown eyes you've grown to love. You only broke the stare to lean in again, chasing the feeling of his lips on your own once more. You hardly cared where you were at the moment, as you lifted a hand to place over his own. You kissed him gently, not wanting to ruin this moment, as you lightly parted your lips for him. The hand on your jaw fell, finding it's place back against your neck, making you gasp. He seemed to grow more bold, matching your desperate enthusiasm. His fingers then dug down, not harshly but just enough to add pressure. The sensation was enough to send a sudden jolt of heat through you, making a small instinctive whine fall from you.

Suddenly, he broke away from you, a strange glint in his eye. As you caught your breath, you couldn't quite tell if his expression was one of excitement or fear. Before you could even ask what was wrong, the doctor got up from his seat, moving to leave the small theater box, not even stopping to take his walking cane. The light happiness in your chest died as quickly as it was born, and all that was left was the sinking feeling of fear and confusion. You then followed, doing the same, as the same nagging question played over in your mind. Had you done something wrong?

Tears threatened to form, but you fought to keep them down. At least until you had an explanation for Laszlo's actions. You found him just outside, in the empty halls of the theater. As you approached, he looked back at you, a troubled expression on his face. Your heart broke at the sight.

"Laszlo, I.. If I've done something wrong I sincerely apologize. I.. I'm sorry-"

Cutting me off, his head shot up, as if stunned. "You've done nothing of the sort!"

"Then why are you troubled?" You stepped forwards, searching for answer. "If I am not at fault, then you must tell me what it is I have done that has made you react in such a way."

"I just...I don't wish to see you get hurt. By being close to me." Laszlo looked conflicted, pausing as he tried to form his thoughts. His eyes looked to the ground, as he sighed. "By me."

The phantom hold on your neck returned, as you noticed the look of fear in his eyes. This man, who has trouble follow him wherever he goes, seemed haunted by something. You bit your lip.

"I've already forgiven you for you previous actions, as I know they were not entirely your own in that moment." You took a deep breath in order to keep your voice from failing you. "And even if they were, I trust you enough to know that you'd never hurt me, Laszlo."

"And if I wanted to?" He spat it out, quickly. Though the words didn't seem directed towards you, rather.. himself.

You blinked, a blush rushing to your face once more, as you were taken aback. Gathering yourself, you reached for his hand once more, silently. Lifting it gently, you gave a soft squeeze, a comforting gesture. His eyes met your own again.

"I'll trust you even then." You replied, feeling genuine in your response.

His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening as he looked down at you. He squeezed you hand, holding it in a grasp that was almost tight. A warning. Yet you stayed right there, watching as his eyes fell to your lips.

He pulled you forward, against him, as his lips met your own again. Unlike before, this wasn't so sweet and gentle as it had once been. No, now that underlying desperation, that need, broke to the surface as his teeth pulled on the soft subtle skin on your mouth, almost forcing you to open your lips for him, hadn't you not already been willing to. His weaker right arm found a place against your waist, as his left found the back of your neck, a strong hold keeping you there.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden forwardness of the typically reserved man. Your hands fell against his suit, finding a hold on the vest beneath his suit jacket. One of your hand slowly traced a path, running against the hairs behind his ear, as you gently pulled against them. The action sent a groan from Laszlo's throat, an unfamiliar experience for you, as you felt his voice against your skin. And Oh, how you craved more, smiling at how you had earned such a reaction. In response, you felt a quick nip at your bottom lip, a small jolt of pain coming from it, before his tongue ran along the same area. At the same time, the hand around your neck squeezed down. A thrilling chill passed through your entire being, finding it's destination just below your stomach. His lips changed direction, trailing a path from your lips to your jawline. You moaned, quietly, just enough for the alienist to hear.

"Laszlo."

Lust wasn't a look you were a stranger to, but seeing it overtake every aspect of Laszlo's appearance as he looked down at you definitely was. And you had no doubts that you looked the same. He pulled away from his advances, hesitating for a moment, blinking away the haze in his eyes. You leaned up, pressing a kiss against his cheek, as his left hand came down to your waist. As you silently stared at each other, you heard the volume of the opera's music return, reminding you of your surroundings. As much as you wished to continue, you knew you couldn't. Fortunately, it seemed Laszlo had come to the same conclusion, leaning back as he smiled again.

"It would be best if we return, before we are found in such a state..." He sighed, almost sadly.

He was right of course. If anyone had gone out into the halls at that moment, the mere sight of your disheveled states would be enough to cause a scandal, something neither of you wanted for the other. You looked away, nodding in agreement as you blushed, bashfully. As if you hadn't just clung to him, wishing that he'd continue. You returned to your seats, the two of you smooth out your clothes, erasing as much evidence to your actions as you could. Once you returned, Laszlo once again placed his hand against yours, drawing gentle circles against the back of your hand throughout the rest of the show. Permanent smile crept to your face.

The opera ended, with Aida and Radames dying in each other's arms. A tragic love story, doomed to fail from the start. But then again, did it truly fail? After all, Aida's people had escaped captivity and she had found her last moments with the man she loved. Perhaps if you hadn't missed part of the story you would've come to a suitable answer. You didn't regret missing it though, finding comfort in a far more enjoyable feeling in whatever it was that was between you and the alienist by your side.

You left the theater, with your arm wrapped around his own, sharing electric glances and soft touches. Once outside, you saw the familiar faces of Stevie and Cyrus, who apparently had been waiting to escort you back. Laszlo lead you to the carriage, opening the door for you. He took your hand, helping you step into the vehicle, before quickly joining you inside. Once settled, you met his gaze once more.

He smiled, warmly. "I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight. John has told me that the opera can be rather dull, at times.."

You blinked, bewildered. Surely, he was joking. You couldn't help but laugh, as you gave him a strange stare. "You're the alienist, Dr. Kreizler. What would you believe?"

Laszlo chuckled in response, taking your joke as a good sign. Lifting his cane, he tapped the roof of the carriage twice, signalling Stevie to start our journey. Your ride home had been much calmer than earlier, and you enjoyed the comfortable silence that fell over the two of you. However, as you neared your home, you sensed that Laszlo had something to say. 

"I'm sorry if my reaction startled you, that hadn't been my intention. The troubled minds of other have always been something that intrigued me, yet when faced with it myself, I find myself at a loss." He said quietly. "I meant it when I said you could get hurt, being close to me. Someone I held dear was taken from me, and I still fear that the same fate may reach you, the way it did her..."

He spoke as though a ghost hovered over his shoulder, a new level of vulnerability you'd never seen before. You realized that perhaps this is what John meant when he said Laszlo had been hurt the most by the last investigation. 

"I understand," You looked up, reading his expression as you spoke. "But you shouldn't blame yourself for the past. If you truly cared for her and could have changed whatever happened, I know you would have. You cannot punish yourself for something you could not control. If you worry for me, for whatever may come, I know you will work to keep the same from happening."

Laszlo stared at you, a sad smile playing over his face, as he mulled over your words. Once more the silence fell over you. It was only a few minutes more, when you reached your home.

As you glanced out the window, you paused. "Thank you, Laszlo. I had a lovely time, enjoying your company."

"Perhaps we should go to the opera again?" He suggested, hopeful.

"I.." You blushed for what felt like the hundredth time at this point. "I didn't wish to assume."

"Never, kedvesem." He replied, speaking a Hungarian word you hadn't learned yet. But it didn't take much to know that it was an endearment of some sort. "Though, perhaps we should save Delmonico's for the next trip to the opera."

You heart leapt at the notion, sending a rush through you. You gave your farewell, before stepping out of the carriage. Quickly, you did the same for Stevie and Cyrus, once again thanking them for their services for the night. As you watched the carriage disappear into the night, you felt as though you could die from happiness. Stepping into your home, the door being left unlocked, you gave a sigh of relief. The night had been a success and so much more.

You dragged yourself into your private room, tired after the long night.

 And in your distracted state, you hardly noticed the small bouquet of roses on your pillow.

[leossmoonn]

Always Choose You [Damon Salvatore]

masterlist

pairing - damon salvatore x fem!reader

type - fluff, smut 

note - hey, guys! this was a request! hope you enjoy :)

summary - both salvatore brothers are in love with you, so who will you choose?

warning - smut, language 

favf/n = favorite food name

e/c = eye color

————

*gif isn't mine*

I walked into the Salvatore Boarding House, letting myself in. The two brothers who lived there were my best friends, so naturally, I had a key. I was coming over to hang out with them as my school finals were over and I needed to have fun.

“Hey, Y/n,” Stefan said as I entered the living room.

“Hey, Stef! How‘re you?” I smiled.

“Great! You?” He asked.

“I’m good. Finals are finally done! Now I can drink and party to my heart’s content!” I sighed happily. I spun around collasped on the couch dramatically.

“Don’t drink too much or you’ll die,” Stefan warned.

I smiled at his concerned comment. “Don’t worry, I’ll pace myself.”

“Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming over!” I heard Damon exclaim from the top of the stairs.

I looked over and saw the eldest Salvatore speed down the stairs. His body arrived in front of me quickly.

“I didn’t realize I had to call,” I snorted.

“No, no. I’m just... surprised,” Damon said. His eyes darted back to Stefan and me. His eyes had jealousy swimming in them. I cocked my head to the side, asking him silently what was wrong. While staring at Stefan, Stefan pulled me into a side hug.

I giggled and put my head on his chest. Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes. Something that I found recently gave me butterflies. 

Damon and Stefan have been my best friends for the last two years. I had fell victim to a witch and Damon and Stefan saved me. I was so thankful and wanted to pay them back, so I took them to the Grill. It was the least I could do, and with me being a human, it was about the only thing I could do, too. 

In the last two years, everything was pretty platonic. But recently, the boys have been more territorial over me to each other. They would always fight when I’m around and like now, one would pull me into them while the other was watching. My other friends, Caroline and Bonnie, suspected that they liked me. I first had denied it. To me, it made sense they were territorial because I was there only really close girl-friend and they were brothers. Everything was always competitive with males. But then, they both started to give me hints. 

First it was Damon. He would call me ‘sugarplum’ or even ‘babe’. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but then one day he got close to me while I was making some lunch for us. He grabbed my waist and spun me around. His eyes flickered to my lips and I swore we were going to kiss, but Bonnie and Elena came into the house. It was super weird, but it gave me butterflies and left me longing for his touch. That I couldn't deny.

Then, Stefan was next. I assumed he had noticed Damon getting a little too close for comfort to me, so he then did the same type of things. Instead of flirting with nicknames and touching, Stefan would buy me flowers and do things for me. Always saying how he could make me dinner and then letting me cuddle up to him. It was nice and I got butterflies in the beginning, but they stopped and I knew I had only seen him as a friend. 

I had been friends with them long enough and seen them with girls to know what was their own love language. I was flattered, but I knew I couldn't date them. For Stefan, I only saw him as a friend. But for Damon, well, sure. I probably did have feelings deep down. Damon was handsome, as so was Stefan, but Damon was dangerous, sexy, flirtatious. I couldn't help but be drawn to him in a slightly romantic way. But I couldn't date him. I knew he had been pining over Elena. I didn’t want to be just a second choice. Plus, I didn’t know if he was even ready for a committed relationship. So, I didn’t ask them about any of their actions, which kept us in the friend zone. 

“Are you staying over for dinner?” Stefan asked. 

“I don’t know. Can I?” I asked him. 

“Yes, of course!” Stefan smiled. “What do you want? I can make you-”

“Actually, brother,” Damon interrupted him, “I was planning on making dinner tonight.”

“The only thing you can make it pancakes,” Stefan snorted. 

“Funny and that used to be true, but not anymore! I am making Y/n’s favorite, favf/n,” Damon smiled at me.

“You know how to make that?” I asked. “I didn't realize you were Gordon Ramsey.”

“Oh I am so much better than Ramsey. With cooking and more,” he winked at me. 

I gulped harshly and I my eyes made contact with Damon’s. His teasing, blue ones met with my flustered, e/c ones. 

“Looking forward to it, Damon,” I said and looked away from him gaze. 

Damon smirked and walked to the kitchen. “Get ready to have your mind blown, babe!”

There was that nickname again. 

“I’m gonna go make sure he doesn't set the house on fire and kill us all,” Stefan said. He got up and I nodded. I then took the remote for the tv and poured myself some whiskey. I cuddled up on the couch and watched Friends until dinner was ready. 

After about 4 episodes, dinner was finally ready. I went into the kitchen, the smell filling my senses. My mouth salivated as I looked at the table. 

“Wow, you two did this?” I asked. 

“Well, Damon did most. He actually is a good cook,” Stefan frowned. 

“Good job, Damon,” I smiled at him. I then turned to Stefan. “You’re still the best cook I know, Stef. Don’t worry.”

His eyes lit up and he smiled at me. 

“Let’s chow down. I’m starving,” Damon said and walked over to the table. He pulled a chair out and gestured for me to sit down.

I smiled and made my way over to the table. I sat down, picking up the silverware they had placed. Damon then sat down across from me and Stefan next to me. I took the first bite of food and my eyes widened. 

“This is so good. Oh, my God.” I moaned and took another bite. 

“I’m glad,” Damon said. I looked up at him. He was smirking at Stefan while Stefan was glaring at his brother. I rolled my eyes.

“What is up with you two?” I asked.

“What?” Stefan broke contact with Damon and looked at me. The innocence in his eyes almost seemed real. 

“You two have been fighting over me. I can see it between the glances you give each other. I know you two like me, but that doesn't mean you have to be so territorial. I am not some bag of blood. I am a human. So, use your words not looks if something is bothering you,” I explained. I took a drink of wine, waiting for them to say something. 

Then, Damon got up. 

“Y/n, I wanted to wait, but obviously I can’t.” Damon walked over to my side of the table and dug in his pocket. He pulled out a black box and got on one knee. My eyes widened and I got up from the table. 

“Y/n L/n. Will you marry me?” Damon asked. He opened the box and there was a big, diamond ring in it. 

“Damon, I-” I stopped mid sentence. I didn’t know what to say. Just then, Stefan stood up and went next to Damon. He got down on one knee and pulled out a red box. 

“Oh, hell no,” I scoffed, laughing incredulously. 

“I know this is all sudden and I didn't want to do it this so fast. I had a whole thing planned out, but it's either now or never. Y/n, I love you so much. I know we are only friends, but I am hoping you love me back. I think you are the one and I want to be your husband,” Stefan said. 

My heart swelled at his kind words, but I knew my answer.  “No.”

“T-to who?” Stefan asked. 

“To both of you,” I answered. 

They both looked at me dumbfounded. 

“What! C’mon, you have to pick at least one of us!” Damon exclaimed and stood up. 

“No, Damon. I don't have to pick anyone.” “Yes! And I know you want to pick me. I see it all the time in your eyes and your body language. You have feelings for me, Y/n. Just admit it,” Damon . 

I shook my head and turned to Stefan. I reached out for his hands and pulled him up. 

“Thank you, Stefan. That was so sweet. I love you, too, but not in the way you want me to. I’m so sorry, Stef,” I spoke softly. Tears filled his eyes and I pulled him into a hug, which he obliged to. I pulled back and kissed his cheek, wiping the tears away from his face. 

“And as for you,” I turned to Damon, “Maybe I do like you, but you aren't ready for a relationship. Unlike you, I like commitment and more than just sex. Oh, and I’m not obsessed with a girl named Elena Gilbert. So, it's a no to you, too.”

I then put my chair back in place and took another sip of my wine. “I had a great night. Thank you for cooking for me, but it’s a no for now,” I said to Damon. 

“And Stefan, I understand if I broke our friendship. I wish I could've given you the answer you were looking for, but I can't lie. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I understand if you want to distance yourself from me, okay?” I said. 

Stefan nodded and smiled sadly at me. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Whenever you are ready to talk and be friends again, text me. Now, I’m going to leave. Thank you for being honest with me, guys,” I smiled at both of them.  I walked out of the kitchen and left the house. I went to my car and drove to Caroline’s house. I bet she couldn’t wait to hear what I had just experienced. 

————

It had been three weeks since the Salvatore brothers debacle. Since then, Stefan had been avoiding me. It hurt, but I understood and gave him his space. I knew I hurt him and he needed alone time.  

Now, Damon was the complete opposite. He took every chance he could to talk to me. It was annoying at first. He always hated not getting what he wanted. But after a few days, he stopped flirting and did different things. It was almost as if he was changing. Well, that’s what Bonnie said.

The first sign was two weeks ago, four days after he had proposed to me. I had gone over to Elena’s to study, but was surprised to find Damon over. I had opened the door and eavesdropped. They had been fighting and I had happened to hear the ending of it.  

-flashback- 

“No, Elena!” Damon said.

“What Damon. I thought you loved me! I love you, too. I’m ready to date you now. Forget about her!” Elena yelled. 

“Her name is Y/n. And I don’t love you anymore. Not as much as I thought I did. I want her. I need her. I want to make it work with Y/n and to do that, I had to let you know this. I’m sorry, but I love her more,” Damon spoke. 

-end of flashback-

I was stunned at his words. I didn’t realize how much he wanted me, but before he could see me as he left, I fled her house. I ran back to my car and sped away. I had to admit, it was heartwarming and I felt myself falling for him a little more. But I didn’t want him to know I heard his little speech, and I didn't want Stefan and Elena to hate me and hurt even more. 

The second sign was that I was sent flowers. They were roses, something I knew only Damon would send. Stefan always sent me lilies, but Damon was more traditional in a way and he got me roses. Every day at 3 PM roses were sent to me with a different note. The notes were quotes about love written in Damon’s handwriting. With each gift, I couldn’t help but develop a huge crush on him. 

The third sign was when Damon stopped with the heavy flirting towards other girls. Whenever we were out with friends, he would usually just look over the other women, directing all of his attention towards me most times. It made me feel special and I even tried to mention other girls to him, trying to encourage him not to get so hooked up on me, but it never worked. 

I soon began to think about him more. He was already stuck in my mind, but I started to see him in my dreams. I even found myself wondering what being married to him was like. How he would greet me everyday coming home from work. Making dinner with him. Late night sex, maybe. Kids someday, even. It was then I realized I was beginning to fall in love with him and that maybe he was ready to be in a committed relationship. 

So, three weeks later was when I decided to talk to him. Confess my feelings for him and see if he still felt as strongly as he did before.

I made my way over to his house. I made sure Elena would take Stefan somewhere fun so he wouldn't have to see me. Caroline then made sure to stall so Damon would stay in the house instead of do vampire business. I quickly drove to his house and opened the door. I found Damon sitting with Caroline, arguing about why he couldn’t leave. When he saw he, though, he perked up and his eyes softened. 

“Hey, Y/n,” he smiled at me. 

“Hey, Damon. You can go now. Thanks, Care,” I smiled at Caroline. She smiled and nodded walked to the door.  

“Good luck!” She whispered to me while passing me by. I thanked her and she shut the door behind her. I walked over to Damon, standing almost toe-to-toe with him. 

“What’s up, sweet cheeks?” Damon smiled. “Nothing much, blue eyes,” I smiled back with a nickname I created for him. 

“So, you just came by for no reason?” Damon asked. “No, I wanted to tell you something,” I said. 

“Shoot,” he said and sat down on the couch. I followed his lead, sitting closer than normal. 

“I've been noticing your gifts and behavior. I even heard you tell Elena you didn’t love her as much,” I started off. 

“Am I going too far? Bonnie told me that roses were your favorite so I went along with it. I’m sorry. I’ll stop if you want me t-”

I smiled, “No, Damon. I wanted to tell you yes.”

Damon’s brows furrowed. “Yes to what?” 

“Yes to marrying you,” I explained. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

“W-what?”

“I’m saying yes to-”

“No, no I heard what you said,” Damon chuckled. “Really?”

I smiled and nodded and took his hands into mine. “Yes! But, I want to date first. Obviously.”

“Yes, that's perfectly fine. I’m so happy you said yes,” Damon said and moved his lips close to mine.

“Good. And I’m happy, too,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to his. 

Our eyes met and flickered back to each other’s lips several times before I closed my eyes and kissed him. His right hand rested on the small of my back as his left hand cupped my cheek. My hands went to his back and pulled him closer, letting me deepen the kiss. 

Damon and I opened our mouths simultaneously and let our tongues clash. I moaned softly, feeling my way through every inch of his mouth. His hand left my cheek and went to join his other hand on my waist. He then sat back, letting me climb on top of him and straddle his waist. My hands went to around his neck and I gripped his hair.

We pulled away, panting. Damon smiled at me, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. I gasped for a breath before Damon’s lips met my neck. I let out a breathy moan as he bit down and sucked lightly. His hands went to the bottom of my shirt and tugged at it. I got the hint and took it off, Damon going back to my neck immediately after. I felt his fangs poke my skin and his head went up from my neck. 

“Sorry, I got a little out of control,” he muttered, looking away at me so I wouldn't see his vampire face. I smiled softly and turned his face to me, kissing his lips tenderly. 

“It’s okay. I think your vampire face is hot,” I smirked. “Oh, really?” Damon smirked back. 

“Mhm,” I hummed. I then decided to take a chance and go and kiss his neck. I roamed around his soft skin, finding his sweet spot right behind his ear. 

His hands tightened around my curves as I sucked the sensitive spot. I smiled into his skin as he groaned rather loudly. I felt a bludge against my lower half, and started to lightly grind against him. He let out an animalistic growl and pulled me away from him. 

“We are going upstairs,” Damon said. I nodded and he got up, holding me up with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he used his vampire speed to get to his bedroom.  He threw me on the bed, taking off his shirt, and then climbing on top of me. His hands traced over my bra, looking back up to my eyes. 

“May I?” He asked. I smiled and nodded. 

He took it off fast, making the heat between my legs grow. His hands traced around my breasts, teasing me and making me squirm. His mouth went to one of them while his hand massaged the other. My back arched as his tongue swirled around my nipple, his teeth pulling it out slightly. I let out a girly sigh as he switched breasts. His fingers rolled my sore nipple as his mouth worked on my other breast. After a few more minutes, he trailed his lips down the valley between my breasts. 

My hands ran over his broad shoulders, feeling over his strong arms and back. My hands found his hair as his lips and tongue found the top of my jeans. I felt him stop and I knew he was going to ask, but I saved him the trouble and took my jeans off. I saw him smile as my panties and legs came into his view. I threw my pants on the floor and that's when his lips attached themselves to my inner thighs. I spread my legs more, trying to get him to get closer to my core. 

“Hm, I can smell you. So wet and needy for me, huh?” He mumbled. I nodded as his lips got closer to my pussy. His lips ran over the garment covering it. 

“Take it off,” I whined. He chuckled, “Your wish is my command, babe.”

He ripped off my panties, the cold air hitting my skin in an instant. I heard Damon groan as he looked over my naked body. He looked back into my eyes, reaching up to kiss my lips. 

“You look so gorgeous, Y/n,” he said while pulling away from my lips.

“Thank you,” I smiled. He returned the smile and then went back down to between my thighs. His fingers traced around the outside and teased me by slipped half of his middle finger in then pulling out.  “Wow, what a mess,” Damon chuckled. “Just do something about it,” I demanded and took his hand. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Be patient, babe,” he said. I groaned out of frustration, but we both knew I found it hot. 

His middle finger teased my entrance for a few more seconds before pushing his finger into me. I let out a gasp and gripped the sheets as he pumped in and out faster. He then added another finger, making my back arch and me letting out another moan. 

“Damon!” I exclaimed as he went faster. His fingers curled, hitting my g-spot. Then, his lips and tongue found my clit.  “Fuck, D-Damon,” I cried out. I felt the tension in my stomach build and my legs started to shake. 

As his fingers went harder and faster, his tongue flicked over my clit. His teeth gently bit down, making my release come faster.

“Damon, Damon!” I yelled out. 

“Let go, baby.” I heard Damon say below me. 

My back arched one last time and I cried out as I came down from my high. My back fell into the mattress and I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair. I looked over at Damon and saw him sucking his fingers. 

“So sweet,” he moaned. The action itself made wetness pool up between my legs again.

Damon then stood up and began to unbuckle his belt and my eyes widened. I sat up immediately.

“Wha-what are you doing?” I asked. 

“Sex, what else?” Damon chuckled. 

“Wait, Damon,” I got up and stopped his hands from pulling down his underwear. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked. “I... I’m a virgin,” I confessed. 

Damon’s brows furrowed and then his eyes soften. “Oh, Y/n. Well, we don’t have to do anything, don’t worry. I can wait.”

I smiled at his words. “No, I want this. I just wanted to tell you.”

Damon smiled back. “I’m glad you told me. Are you sure? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I nodded and laid back down onto the bed. 

He nodded and pulled his underwear down. My eyes widened as his cock came into full view. He was sure impressive. 

“Never seen a dick before?” Damon smirked. “No, I-I have,” I laughed, embarrassed.

He smiled at me and got into bed.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Damon said. 

I put my hands on his face and looked into his eyes. “I am sure.”

Damon gave me a short, sweet kiss before positioning himself at my entrance.

“I’m gonna give you time to adjust and whenever you want me to move or stop, say the words,” Damon said. 

I nodded and and held his hand. Our fingers intertwined and that's when he pushed into me. He went slowly and I felt tears spring into my eyes. He stopped, letting me adjust to his size. I took in a deep breath before telling him to move. 

He nodded and started to rock back and forth. The pain was subsided and it turned into pleasure. 

“You’re so tight, Y/n. So pretty,” Damon moaned. 

“God, Damon,” I moaned. I found myself scraping my fingernails down his back. He still went gentle, which I was thankful for. 

We both moaned loudly as he fucked me slowly, but passionately. My legs wrapped around his waist and his hands went to rest besides my shoulders, holding himself up. I felt my stomach tighten. 

“I-I’m close,” I whimpered. 

He nodded and attached his lips to mine. He kissed me and I felt his thumb traced down my stomach to my clit. He rubbed my clit, making me come faster. 

“Oh, fuck. Damon!” I cried out in ecstasy. Damon kept going for a view moments and I felt him twitch inside of me. He finished with one last push. He fell onto me gently before pulling out and laying next to me. 

I rolled over into him. He put his arms around me and pulled me close, kissing my head. 

“You are a dream, Y/n,” Damon whispered. 

I giggled and looked up, “No, you are.”

Damon smiled and then looked down. “Oh, no. You’re dripping. Let me get a washcloth.”

I nodded and waited until he came back with a wash cloth. I laid on my back and watched as he cleaned my thighs. I smiled as he placed a kiss on either one. I never knew he could be so sweet.

He set the rag down on the nightstand and climbed back into bed with me. I cuddled into him and started to feel myself get tired.

“Thank you so much for saying yes, Y/n.”

I smiled before I drifted off. “Don’t thank me. I realized over anybody, I’d choose you.”

“Me, too. I’ll always choose you, babe.”

————

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[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.VIII: These Paths We Walk

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, light Fluff, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, gore and blood, some satanic themes, etc. 

word count: 7,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

Necromancy is a form of spiritual divination in which the executioner acts in the summoning of and communication with the lost souls of the dead. Its origins date back to the ancient Greeks, as the word necromancy is composed of Greek terms νεκρός (nekrós), "dead," and μαντεία (manteía), "divination." During the European Middle Ages, necromancy grew to be associated with black magic by traditional witches. As a result, its practice became strictly forbidden due to its disruption in the balance of nature. History recalls only one powerful witch ever held the ability to raise the dead at will—

“Still doing research for that special project?” Your mind snaps back to reality at the sudden inquiry. Tearing your gaze from the textbook, you look up to find none other than your favorite student in front of your desk. Hyunjin offers his usual crooked smile at your newfound attention and raises a questioning eyebrow. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes before answering, “You know the point of a study period is to—I don’t know—study? Preferably by yourself?”

He snickers. “I have a question that requires your extensive mastery in the literary arts, Ms. (L/N).”

“I’m sure you do.” You release a heavy sigh, not bothering to voice your annoyance at the use of your surname. Instead, you deliver Hyunjin a shake of your head before gesturing his continuance with a wave of your hand.

“I’m a little confused by the ending of The Grapes of Wrath,” Hyunjin pauses, “okay—a lot confused. I mean, why would Rose of Sharon breastfeed a stranger she literally just met? It’s weird…” 

You chuckle at his scrunched expression. “You’re right. It is pretty weird.” 

“So why’d she do it?” 

“Well, Rose of Sharon knew the stranger was starving to death,” You begin, leaning back in your chair to better hold Hyunjin’s gaze, “so you could say she wanted to give him a second chance.” 

“But why? She doesn’t even know him.” 

“Maybe not, but if you had the ability to save another person’s life—be it a stranger—wouldn’t you?” 

“But even after all her and her family went through, I don’t understand how she was able to find it in herself to do that. Especially after the loss of her baby.” 

“Humanity is a complicated, yet beautiful force, Hyunjin.” You hum gently, “Even among all the cruelty, hatred and hopelessness, it still manages to find a way to prevail—that ending is proof that against all odds, humanity will always win.”  

“I never thought about it like that…” Hyunjin shakes his head in disbelief, “Thanks, (Y/N)...” 

“It’s what I do, kiddo.” 

While the student grows silent to scribble down his realizations, you take the time to skim over your own notes—or lack-there-of, that is. 

After Youngjae agreed, albeit rather reluctantly, to assist you in your mission to return Jackson Wang to the land of the living, you spent the past few days cornering the bookstore and mausoleum’s supply of resources about raising the dead. But just your luck, every text thus far has proven to be less than helpful. According to the siphoner, necromancy is one of the more rare magical arts that is only practiced by specialized, powerful witches, which, unfortunately, also means there is limited access to such information. Neither you nor Youngjae have been able to find a spell or ritual that can guarantee Jackson’s resurrection without some kind of dire consequence. 

Who knew magic could be so complicated? 

“You know, you’ve been out for the past week…” You lift your head to meet Hyunjin’s gaze once again. “Is… Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry, but it’s just so unlike you to miss any classes…” 

The typical university student probably wouldn’t give a damn about a missing professor, much less an absent TA. Hyunjin’s visual apparent concern spreads warmth throughout your chest—you are powerless to hold back the small smile that stretches across your lips. 

“A couple of my roommate’s friends disappeared out of the blue last week, so I just needed a few days to help her out.” You raise a playful eyebrow, “Don’t tell me you missed me?” 

“What? No way.” Hyunjin scoffs, “Though I did have to use Sparknotes for the past few reading assignments and barely passed Wednesday's quiz—” You burst into laughter, reeling your companion into the same fit only seconds later. After a brief moment, Hyunjin manages to collect his composure and finish, “—I am glad everything is okay… and that you’re back.” 

You nod with a smile. “I appreciate that.”

Aside from the daily meetings with Youngjae and nightly cry-piles with Sana, the past few days have proven to be quite uneventful. Jackson has not appeared in your bedroom since that first night, and true to your word, you haven’t told Mark about your quest for his revival. God knows what kind of Hell would break loose if that were to happen. You also haven’t visited the Prime residence since the day you caught Jaebeom with his drop dead—mind the pun—gorgeous vampire conquest. You’ve been meaning to call Jinyoung, but between your hours pilfering through useless research texts, comforting your distraught roommate and attempting to track down your M.I.A. best friend, you haven’t quite found the time. 

And though you’d never admit it to anyone, you needed some time alone—to think.

A rather obnoxious bout of laughter tears you from your thoughts, which is quickly followed by a scold from Professor Park. In an attempt to find the source, you peer past Hyunjin’s form and the sea of other students to the very back of the classroom where a group of young girls are utilizing the period as social hour. Amongst the familiar faces sits a pretty female student you don’t quite recognize, having never encountered her around campus before.

And although you can barely see her, something about her demeanor seems… off. 

“Hyunjin? Who’s that girl back there?” 

Hyunjin turns to examine the subject of interest before returning with a shrug, “According to my sister, she’s some exchange student from Taiwan. I haven’t met her, but I think Yeji said her name is Tzuyu.”

“And she transferred here this week?” 

He shakes his head. “Actually, today is the first day anyone has seen her.”

You go to inquire further, but the booming call of Professor Park announcing the end of class beats you to it. Hyunjin bids you one final thank you and a goodbye before sprinting off to meet his friends at the classroom exit. It is not until him, Professor Park and the remainder of the students are long out the door do you return to your research. However, the moment you manage to relocate your place, a sugary-sweet voice commands your attention once again:

“If I could bother you for a moment, Ms. (L/N), I need your help…” 

“Of course.” You mask your annoyance with as genuine a smile as you can muster and turn your gaze to the student. “What can I do for…” Your smile immediately falters at the sight of the young woman from earlier in front of your desk—only in this instance, you can definitely recognize her… 

It’s none other than Miss Aphrodisiac herself from the Project Estate. 

She offers a radiant smile, but the feature seems less than friendly. 

“Hello again, (Y/N). I don’t believe we properly met during our last meeting… I’m Tzuyu.” 

“Yeah, um, I-I wasn’t expecting to see you in my class…” You chuckle nervously, cautiously sliding your notes inside your book before closing the cover. “What… What are you doing here exactly?” 

“With how much the student body rants and raves about their newest teaching assistant, how could I pass up the opportunity to see you in action?” Tzuyu elegantly takes a seat on the edge of your desk before running her fingers through her flawless, auburn locks. Something about the dexterity of her fingers sends goosebumps budding across your skin. “Plus, it’s not everyday I meet one of Jaebeom’s… human companions.” 

“It’s not like that.” You insist, “Jaebeom and I barely know each other—”

“Ah. Right.” She giggles, “You’re close with the other brother. My mistake.” 

You bite your tongue, holding back the snide comment that would likely lead to the dismembering of your head from your body. Instead, you swallow what little remains of your pride, rise from your seat and ask stiffly, “You said you needed help with something?...” 

“You’ve read Macbeth, haven’t you?” Filled with both anxiety and confusion, you watch as Tzuyu takes a pencil from the container of writing tools perched on the surface of your desk. She twirls the utensil between delicate fingertips, gazing at it as if it is the most interesting object on the planet. You don’t need your gut to remind you something is most definitely off with her behavior.

“There’s this one piece of advice that Lady Macbeth tells her husband before he goes off to commit murder: ‘Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under ‘t’... ” She pauses, “Tell me, Ms. (L/N)... What exactly could that mean?” 

Your blood runs cold when she fixes her dark gaze on you. No longer interested in the pencil. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to ground the frantic beating of your heart before it literally leaps from your chest and into the palms of your company. Out of instinct, you chance a quick glance at the door—you may not have a mug, but a nine-hundred page, hardcover book to the face might make a pretty good distraction. 

“Hm, I suppose you’re more of an expert with prose.” Tzuyu says, lowering the pencil into her lap before hopping to her own feet. “Let’s try a bit of Frankenstein then…” 

She begins to stalk toward you, her eyes still locked onto yours like a vice. Your body immediately shuffles backward, attempting to keep as much distance between yours forms as possible. You only get so far—your back meeting the surface of the wall behind you as Tzuyu centers herself a few mere inches away. You can feel her crisp breath on your face as she murmurs:  

“‘I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, then I will indulge the other’...” 

“What are you—” 

Before you can finish your thought, a searing pain paints your vision white. The agony spreads through your veins like wildfire, stealing every ounce of oxygen from your lungs and rendering your knees weak. With a trembling hand, you’re able to save your form from buckling completely to the floor—but not before catching a glimpse of the same pencil impaled in the side of your waist. 

“Poetry is much more tasteful, in my opinion.” Tzuyu sighs, licking the blood from her nails as she backs away. You want to say something—scream and call her a plethora of less than appropriate names—but your mind is literal mush between the shock and the excruciating pain. You collapse to the floor with a breathy gasp, cupping your bleeding side with your opposite hand.

The vampire saunters toward the exit. Just as she makes it to the doorway, she whirls around to throw one final innocent smile in your direction: “Do us both a favor and stay away from Jaebeom… I wouldn’t want to scar that pretty face.” 

With that, she’s completely gone. If it weren’t for the pencil in your midriff and the blood seeping through your clothes, you would have thought you’d dreamt up the entire encounter. 

“Shit…” You gasp, attempting to dislodge the wood from your flesh. It doesn’t budge, deeply embedded between what you assume to be your ribcage. A pained wheeze spills from your throat as you reach for your bag, paying little mind to the bloodied prints your fingers leave in the fabric. After numerous attempts and anguished movements, you manage to fish your cell phone from its pocket. Crimson smears across the screen as you pull up the first contact you can think of. 

You really should have taken the rest of the week off.

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

From his perch behind a tree, Jinyoung silently stalks the movement of a burly stag as it parades across the forest floor. The creature, unknowing of the predator that hunts from a far, approaches a wild berry bush and begins to feast off its bearings—unknowing that its end is fast approaching. 

Jinyoung usually does not like to draw out these moments and would have killed the deer by now. Whether it is due to the absence of his physical strength or the tornado of thoughts tearing through his mind, he simply cannot bring himself to end the animal’s life just yet. There’s something so pure about watching the stag go about its existence, he realizes—he must allow its innocence to prevail a little while longer.

It’s been days since his recovery from the huntress’s attack, but he can still sense the weakness lingering in his bones. While Jaebeom’s blood chased away the fever of the wolf venom, it was not enough to regenerate his body to its full power. If he were to do so, he would need human blood… but that can never happen again. Not in this lifetime.

Animal blood keeps him mobile, and that is more than enough.  

A loud snap of breaking branches returns Jinyoung to reality in time to watch the stag tear off into the trees. He makes no move to chase after it, not desiring to waste his strength. After one final glance to his escaped meal, Jinyoung turns and greets the approaching figure with a tight frown:

“I already told you, hyung. I have no interest in accompanying you on a hunt into town.” 

“You know, it would be a hell of a lot easier than tracking down food out here…” Jaebeom snickers, “Not to mention, one human equals a dozen squirrels.” 

“And as I said, I much prefer the squirrels.” Jinyoung meets Jaebeom’s gaze with a heavy sigh, “I am perfectly fine, hyung.” 

“You’re a shitty liar.” Jaebeom shakes his head. “You need human blood.” 

“What I need is to find a new fare.” Jinyoung pushes off of his perch to traipse deeper into the forest, but the appearance of a hand on his shoulders halts his pace. He allows Jaebeom to maneuver his form back against the trunk of a tree, welcoming the slight relief the support brings to his muscles. He makes sure to keep his expression blank to mask his instability. But like always, Jaebeom sees straight through him. 

“You’re weak, Jinyoung…” 

“Nothing a nice rabbit can’t fix.”

Jaebeom purses his lips. “You can’t deny it forever. At least try a blood bag—”

“Why did you give me your blood?” Jinyoung interrupts his companion’s lecture, peering at Jaebeom with unwavering, unblinking eyes. “I thought you wished to punish me?”

“I was going to—I mean, I wanted to…” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom very carefully, noting the frivolous nature of his typically cocky features and hidden message behind his gaze. If he knew any better, Jinyoung would actually believe there to be some shred of humanity left behind those dark irises. 

“But you couldn’t.” He finishes.

“Don’t think it means you’re off the hook for working with Tuan.” Jaebeom huffs while taking a few paces backward. Jinyoung opens his mouth to respond, but the hybrid’s hushed murmur emerges instead, “(Y/N) came by last week… to see you.” 

Jinyoung holds back a smile. “Did she now?... I suppose you told her about your change of heart then.” 

Jaebeom remains silent. 

“Jaebeom-hyung…” Jinyoung’s eyes flutter shut as an audible exhale blows past his lips, “You need to tell her.” 

“It won’t change anything.” Jaebeom says with a frown, “She made it very clear that she already hates me.” 

“(Y/N) is much different than others, hyung—” 

“What do I care anyway?” The hybrid tsks, his sullen expression transitioning into one of indifference. “She can hate me as much as she wants. I don’t give a shit.” 

“Hyung, please—”   

The shrill ring of a cell phone introduces a bout of silence. Jinyoung has never been so annoyed by modern technology since now, grabbing his phone with a less than pleased sigh. He eyes Jaebeom while lifting the device to his ear, wordlessly communicating that the conversation is far from over.

“Hello?”

“Jinyoung?... H-Hey, it’s me.” 

“(Y/N)?” Jinyoung’s annoyance completely dissipates at the sound of your quivering voice. He notices how Jaebeom also reacts to your audible presence through the stiffening of his broad shoulders. He shakes it off as unease from your previous encounter and focuses back onto you, “Are… you alright? You seem a bit stressed.” 

“Yeah, you can c-call it that…” Your inhale picks up over the line, and Jinyoung cannot help but grow concerned by its unusual heaviness. “You are not going to believe the shitty day I’ve had.” 

“What happened?” 

“Well, the barista at my campus cafe accidentally made my usual decaf, my boss is seeking revenge for my time off through hundreds of ungraded essays… and I was stabbed… with a pencil.” 

Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “I apologize, but I don’t think I understand…” 

“Long story short, Jaebeom’s scary, yet incredibly sexy girlfriend paid me a visit and literally stabbed me with a fucking pencil—” Your explanation cuts out into a yelp, which is followed by an array of stuttered curses, “And it—shit—hurts like hell.” 

“I’m on my way right now” Jinyoung, heart racing and head spinning, forces himself to his feet and hurries back toward the manor—Jaebeom hightailing close behind, having picked up the entire conversation. 

Before Jinyoung can inquire more about your condition, Jaebeom snatches the phone from his grasp and lifts it to his own, “Where did she stab you?” 

“Jaebeom?... My-My side… The pencil is wedged between my ribs, I can’t get it out…” 

“Don’t worry about removing it. Just try to control the bleeding as best you can.” Jaebeom explains, “Jinyoung and I will be there soon.” 

“Wait! Why are you—” Your voice cuts out as Jaebeom ends the call. Jinyoung notices the whiteness of the hybrid’s knuckles as he silently returns his phone. If it were any other situation, Jinyoung would have brought up their chat from earlier, but your wellbeing is on the line.  He delivers his companion a dark glare. To his surprise though, Jaebeom’s expression mirrors that of pure, unadulterated anger. 

Jinyoung pinches the bridge of his nose before releasing a sigh, “Do I even wish to know why your mistress attacked (Y/N)?” 

“I’d like to know too,” Jaebeom scoffs, running a hand through his jet black locks, “considering I told her that (Y/N) was off limits.” 

“You find out then.” Jinyoung hisses, “Or I will deal with her myself, and I won’t be as kind.” 

“Oh, trust me.” Jinyoung can practically sense the murderous lust spilling from Jaebeom’s pitch black irises—far from the light of humanity. “Kindness is the last thing on my list right now, Jinyoungie.”  

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“—and then she just acts all innocent! As if she did absolutely nothing wrong! I mean, what kind of self-serving, sadistic bitch does she think she is—Mark? Are you there?” 

“Huh?” Mark flutters his eyes open at the sound of his name. He blinks at his surroundings in confusion, still dazed from his abrupt wake-up call, before remembering his phone and the person currently speaking on the line: 

“Mark? Don’t tell me I put you to sleep?” 

“Nope, nope. I’m here.” Mark replies hurriedly, wiping the remnants of his nap from his eyes. “Luna’s a complete and total bitch, I got you.” 

Lia sighs, “Yuna, Mark. Not Luna.” 

With a silent yawn, he lifts his arms over his head and expels the kinks from his shoulders. Once his muscles are taunt and stretched, Mark releases a heavy exhale and murmurs, “I’m sorry, Lia. It’s just… been a long week.” 

“I get it, Mark.” She hums softly, “But I wish you wouldn’t stress so much about this. Minho made his choice, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

“I don’t believe that.” Mark rises from his chair before pacing across the room to the mausoleum’s lone window. He pulls the curtain aside, peering out at the vacant hills of the graveyard. “If he would just talk to me, then I’m sure we could figure something out.” 

Hundreds of phone calls later, and he still hasn’t spoken with Minho since the night he claimed to be leaving the coven. No one has. Not even Jisung. And Mark can’t figure out what’s bothering him more: the fact that Minho won’t pick up his phone, or that you have been purposely avoiding him for the last week. 

He’s trying to give both you and the young witch time—truly—but Mark can’t help but feel as if something is off. 

“Minho needs to figure out what he wants himself.” He forces himself away from the window, receding across the room to lean against the lectern as Lia goes on, “You can’t be there to hold his hand every time he goes through one of his moods. It’s not good for him or for you.” 

“What am I supposed to do then?” 

“Nothing, Mark. You do nothing.” 

Mark shakes his head, “You know I can’t do that.” 

“Just give Minho some more time to get it together.” Lia says, “He’ll come around eventually.” 

“I hope so.” Mark goes to grab his coffee mug from a nearby table, but accidentally knocks his elbow against the corner of the lectern. A mass of papers and books slide from its surface, crashing to the floor in a rather vocal descent. He releases a quiet curse, tucking his phone against his shoulder before lowering to the floor to begin tidying the mess. 

…How long does he have to wait until you come around?  

Lia continues to speak as he gathers the escaped pages, “Have you talked to Yugyeom lately? I heard that one of their wolves just up and disappeared.” 

“Yeah. That kid, Changbin.” He says, “Gyeom thinks he probably took off after our fight with the huntress. Remind you of someone?” 

“In this town? A lot of someones.” 

Mark goes to respond, but the title of a particular document clears the thoughts from his mind. Pushing aside a couple other pages, he grabs the flimsy packet before raising it into better view. At first, Mark is confused, unsure why this type of reference would be out and about. But as he surveys the other fallen objects, his confusion gradually shifts to realization… 

Then rage. 

He doesn’t bother to look up as the door opens, nor does he spare the puzzled newcomer a glance. Still clutching the document, Mark rises to his feet and takes the phone from his shoulder with his free hand. He pays his companion no mind as he quietly murmurs: 

“Do you mind if I call you later?” 

“Not at all. Just try to think about what I said.” 

Mark bids a final farewell to Lia before disconnecting the line. He takes a moment to drag a hand down his face before turning to a wide-eyed Youngjae. As soon as Mark raises the document into view, his expression immediately shifts to a panic. 

“So…” Mark tilts his head with a tight frown, “You want to explain why the hell you’re looking up resurrection spells?...” 

Youngjae shakes his head, “Hyung—”

“Explanation, Youngjae.” Mark watches the siphoner’s face shift through a rainbow of emotions. From terror, to anxiety, to dread, before finally settling on guilt. Keeping his gaze to the floor, Youngjae eventually delivers a shrug and whispers: 

“...To try to bring Jackson back.” 

Mark’s heart practically splits open. 

He stares at the younger witch with incredulous eyes. “Are you fucking stupid, Youngjae!?”  

“It looks bad, I know—” Youngjae hurries forward to stand in front of Mark and lifts his hand in good faith, “—but I’ve been doing a lot of research and experimenting with a couple spells and I really think that we can—”

“You aren’t thinking shit.” Mark spits, rounding toward the siphoner until their noses are a mere inch apart. “We don’t screw around with necromancy, Youngjae… It’s dark magic.” 

“We just have to find the right spell! (Y/N) and I are searching—” 

“(Y/N)? What does (Y/N) have to do with this?” 

Youngjae immediately closes his mouth, his eyes growing glassy in the evening light. 

It takes a second for the puzzle pieces to fit together—your inquiries about Jackson, Youngjae’s daily trips to the bookstore, your evasion—but once the realization hits, Mark feels his entire body go numb. 

Youngjae rushes forward to grab Mark’s arm, “Hyung, I’m so, so sorry! (Y/N) thought it would be better not to tell you, so I just—” 

Mark shrugs his hand away, refusing to meet Youngjae’s pleading gaze. “Get out.” 

“Just let me explain—”

“Get the fuck out!” A loud crash echoes throughout the mausoleum as Mark flings his mug across the room, causing the object to meet the opposite wall before shattering to a million tiny pieces. Youngjae doesn’t persist, grabbing his bag and beelining straight out the door. Mark pushes the sounds of the younger’s sobs from his mind as he goes, unable to see past the anger boiling inside his body. But even against all the rage, a sense of sadness remains at the forefront of his mind. 

His best friend betrayed him—again.

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“You find and take care of (Y/N).” Jaebeom commands, slamming his car door shut with a little more force than necessary. Then again, he can’t seem to bring himself to care above the red-hot fury coursing through his veins like venom. He ignores the curious stares of a nearby group of female students and proceeds to move around the car, “I’ll catch up with you later.” 

“And where exactly are you going?” Jaebeom bites back a glare as Jinyoung halts his movements. His entire body thrums, as if physically yearning for vengeance, but he masks his temper with a sharp inhale and a promise to release his frustrations out later. 

He nods at his companion, “I’m going to do what I should have done before.” 

Jinyoung merely stares at him for a moment, and Jaebeom can only hope he can’t see past the bloodlust in his gaze. Fortunately, Jinyoung doesn’t question him further. He releases Jaebeom’s shoulder and delivers one final nod before turning in the direction of what both can only assume is your classroom. Jaebeom allows himself a moment to watch Jinyoung—his noble brother—sprint off to save the day—to save you. Again. 

Jaebeom swallows the bitterness accumulating in his chest and heads in his own direction. It won’t be hard to track her. He can already smell her Chanel perfume—she’s close by, he realizes. 

She wants him to find her. 

Sure enough, Jaebeom recognizes her silken auburn hair and Louis Vuitton coat beside a towering oak tree, staring down at her phone. He doesn’t bother to check if those students are still watching him and speeds over to his target’s perch. Even when he’s a mere few inches away, she continues to mindlessly scroll through her phone. Jaebeom’s anger grows when he notices the amused smirk etched across her pink lips. 

“It’s about time you showed up.” Tzuyu says, “You know how much I hate to wait.” 

“Give me one good reason not to rip your fucking head off right now.”

“Not even a ‘hello’?” 

Jaebeom growls, “You think this is a game?”

“Perhaps.” She raises her calm gaze to his own before offering a sultry smile. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” 

Her flirtations only add fuel to the outrage raging through his body. He speeds forward again, snatches her wrists and slams her smaller figure against the trunk of the tree behind them. Tzuyu winces at his aggressive movements, but Jaebeom feels no sympathy. Your trembling voice and pained breathing echoes in his ears like a siren, tempting him closer to the point of no return. 

It would be so easy to plunge his hand into her chest, to squeeze her heart until it's nothing but bloody ash. Or maybe he should tear her limbs off one by one, make her suffer until she’s begging him to end her—

“You really do care about her, don’t you?” Jaebeom awakens from his imaginary rampage at the question. Her usual smirk is no longer along her face, but instead replaced with a thoughtful frown. 

He growls, pressing her wrists further into the bark of the tree. “I told you to stay away from her. You said you wouldn’t touch her.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day the big, bad hybrid, Im Jaebeom falls for a human.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” His tone is quiet—murderous. “I’ll kill you.” 

“No. You won’t.” 

“Yes. I will.” 

“No, Jaebeom.” She shakes her head with a sigh, “If you kill me, (Y/N) will never forgive you.” 

As if she had taken a red hot iron and plunged it through his heart, Jaebeom lets go of the vampire and stumbles backward. He barely catches himself before he collapses to the ground, and even then, his legs feel like they’ll give out at any moment. 

Tzuyu, still leaning against the tree, tilts her head with a hum, “She’s a good one, Beom. I feel it… that aura that carries around her.” 

“Stop it—” 

“And it’s because she’s good that she’ll never belong to you.” She murmurs, “But you already know that… don’t you?” 

“You’re fucking sick.” Jaebeom hisses. 

To his surprise, Tzuyu’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Jaebeom.” 

There’s too many emotions swirling through his mind. He can’t think—can’t breathe. His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, and his hands won’t stop shaking. He can’t get your face out of his head—your beautiful eyes looking at him with such betrayal and hatred. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why won’t his hands stop fucking shaking? It’s too much. It’s all too much—

He can’t help it… He has to turn it off. 

A switch flips inside of his soul, immediately locking out every ounce of pain. His lungs inhale each new breath smoothly, and his limbs remain as still as a cat. With a clear head, Jaebeom returns his eyes to Tzuyu, who is still gazing at him with such tenderness and understanding. For a moment, the warmth of her gaze reminds him of you. 

Tzuyu cautiously takes a step forward, “Jaebeom…?” 

“You’re right.” He nods, “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“What are you—ah!” Her inquiry elevates into a scream as Jaebeom whirls forward and sinks his teeth into her shoulder. His fangs plunge through the fabric of her expensive coat before piercing deep into her flesh. She attempts to struggle, but he is stronger… and the damage has already been done.   

He pulls away, licking the blood from his lips as Tzuyu collapses to the ground. She clutches her wounded shoulder, staring up at him with eyes of betrayal, confusion and fright. 

“You… You bit me.” 

Jaebeom smirks, “I suggest you spend the next day or so wisely… it’s going to be your last.” 

Tzuyu’s expression turns rabid. She scrambles to her feet before sneering at the hybrid, “The sooner you learn to accept your fate, Jaebeom, the sooner you’ll find peace—” 

“Meh. Fate’s overrated.” 

“Just remember this—” The vampire growls, “—after you turned me, you murdered the love of my life… at least I had the kindness to keep yours alive.” 

He snickers, turning to leave. However, just before he takes a step, Jaebeom throws one final comment over his shoulder, “Thanks for all the sex.” 

With that, Jaebeom smirks to himself and saunters off into the glow of the setting sun. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung rushes down the hallway, careful not to speed for fear of running into a professor or student working after hours. The fragrance of your blood builds with each step, and he can’t help but grow more concerned with that knowledge. At the very least, he can still hear the faint beating of your heart. 

He follows the scent past a couple corners and down another long corridor to a massive, dim lecture room. Fearing the worst, Jinyoung quickly steps through the doorway before immediately spotting your incapacitated form through the darkness propped up against the opposite wall. He doesn’t hesitate to speed across the room and kneel in front of you. You’re unconscious, he realizes, but breathing—that’s enough to lift the heavy weight from his chest. 

“(Y/N)?” He calls gently, lifting his hands to cradle your face in his palms. “Come back to me, my dear… Please.” 

“Jinyoung?...” He’s never been more grateful to hear the sound of his name until now. Your eyes flutter open and dart around the area before drowsily settling on Jinyoung. The vampire in question breathes a sigh of relief, caressing the apple of your cheek with his thumb. 

“There you are.” He murmurs, “How do you feel?” 

“Like I was stabbed…” You raise an eyebrow before peering down at the pencil protruding from your abdomen, “Well, would you look at that.” 

Jinyoung holds back a smile at your sarcasm, appreciating that even wounded, you still manage to bear your usual fiery charm. His own eyes turn down to the object jabbed within your waist. He carefully analyzes the damage, determining the best possible solution to its extraction. As you said on the call, the pencil itself is trapped inside your ribcage. Jinyoung will have to be careful not to accidentally fracture your bones. 

He bites the inside of his cheek before returning his attention back to you. “I need to remove it, but it’s going to be painful. Very painful.” 

You roll your eyes, “It will also hurt a lot less when it’s out. I can handle it.” 

“I know you can.” 

Jinyoung keeps his gaze connected to yours as he wraps his fingers around the wood of the pencil, taking extra care not to brush against the swollen skin of the lesion. Your expression remains fatigued, yet indifferent during his preparation. He waits for your nod before he continues. 

In order to prevent as much further damage and to make it as painless as possible, Jinyoung removes the pencil as quickly as he can. Your furrowed brow and teary eyes slice at his soul, but he doesn’t stop until the object is completely taken out. Once it's free, Jinyoung tosses the pencil into a nearby trash can, pulls the sweater from his body and utilizes the garment to cover your slightly bleeding wound. He ignores the crimson of your blood staining his fingers, instead lifting his clean arm to his mouth before biting down. 

“What… are you doing?” 

“My blood will heal you.” Jinyoung answers, offering forth his bloody wrist. “It’s how I saved you after your assault in the alleyway.” 

“If I die with your blood in my system, won’t I become a vampire?” 

“You aren’t going to die.” 

You shake your head, pushing away his wrist. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather not risk anything.” 

“At least allow me to bring you to the hospital then.” He insists, “You’ve lost quite enough blood for one day.” 

Jinyoung curses at the mischievous smirk that spreads along your lips. “You have got to stop saving my life.” 

“Stop putting yourself in danger, and there would be no need for me to.” 

“Last I checked, I had no idea Vampire Victoria Secret was gonna show up and stab me with a fucking writing utensil.” You snort, gesturing over to your desk, “Grab my stuff before we go, please.” 

Just as you requested, Jinyoung goes about gathering your laptop and assorted belongings before sliding them into your bag. One book, however, catches his attention. For a moment, he pauses to stare at the title, then flips open the cover. His mouth runs dry when he discovers numerous pages of notes in your handwriting. 

Jinyoung closes the book before turning back to you, who is struggling to climb to your feet. He moves to help you, stabilizing your body against the wall while asking, “Why are you researching necromancy?” 

“It’s a long story.” You inhale deeply, “But to keep it short… Youngjae and I are going to try to resurrect Jackson Wang.”

At the mention of the alpha werewolf, Jinyoung’s muscles grow stiff. He stares at your face, attempting to read the stars in your dreary irises. After what seems like a long moment of silence, he eventually speaks, albeit quietly, “You understand resurrecting someone from the dead is no simple task… Why would you even attempt such a thing?” 

Your expression softens. “Because Jackson didn’t deserve to die, Jinyoung. The pack lost their leader—Mark lost his best friend.” 

“Resurrection is a dangerous craft, (Y/N).”

“Not if we find the right spell.” You argue, throwing your bag over your shoulder with a sharp inhale. “I know it sounds bat-shit crazy, but I have to try, Jinyoung. For Jackson and for Mark.”

Jinyoung inhales a heavy gust, before releasing an even heavier breath. He curses himself at being so affected by the hope in your eyes. Your determination is too alluring—you are too alluring. 

“I have a collection of grimoires kept by a coven of Dutch witches who specialized in necromancy back in the 15th century.” He finally says, “I will gift them to you as long as you grant me one request.”

Your eyes immediately brighten. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” 

Jinyoung grabs your hands. “I want you to forgive my brother.” 

“Jinyoung—“

“After you left, Jaebeom fed me his blood.” He explains, “He cured the werewolf venom, so I wouldn’t have to suffer.”

Your face first contorts to confusion, then to Jinyoung’s surprise, guilt. “He didn’t tell me…” 

“As I told you, Jaebeom has a good heart.” His lips upturn into a sad smile, “He just… has difficulty revealing that side of himself to others.” 

With that, Jinyoung carefully gathers your body into his arms. He manages to cover your soiled clothes with your jacket before heading for the door. 

“It is your choice. I will give you the grimoires no matter what you decide.” 

Jinyoung’s heart leaps when your head collapses against his chest, right over where his heart proceeds to race. Judging by your silence, he expects your mind to have descended into unconsciousness once more, but is pleasantly surprised when your slurred voice reaches his ears, “Hey, Jinyoung?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thanks for saving me. Again.” 

Jinyoung smiles, “It was my pleasure, (Y/N).”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Such a fucking idiot!...” Youngjae hisses, stomping his way past gravestones and monuments through the light of the setting sun. Usually, he would stop to appreciate such a beautiful moment in nature, but his mind is too preoccupied with thoughts of remorse and anger. 

Youngjae knew better than to keep something like this from Mark. His heart immediately drops when he thinks back to the older witch’s furious outburst—Youngjae hasn’t seen him that angry in a long time. Not since Jackson was alive.

He shakes the thought from mind. He should have never agreed to your idea in the first place. Jackson Wang is dead. And he can’t be brought back. End of story. 

A faint murmur of voices awakens Youngjae from his self-loathing. He hadn’t realized how deep he has traveled into the forest until now, so deep that he’s very close to the shore of the bay. His curiosity expands when he notices a strange light emitting from behind a group of closely placed trees. Against his better judgement, Youngjae decides to investigate. 

The nearer he approaches the site, the louder the voices grow. With a closer view, Youngjae can barely make out two figures conversing in front of a large bonfire. Due to the shadows of tree cover, he can’t recognize their faces, but something about their voices seems familiar to him… 

“You’re sure this is going to work?” 

“I’ve been planning this for years. There’s no way it won’t.” 

“Doesn’t this spell need a crazy amount of power?” 

“There will be a blood moon tomorrow night.” Youngjae watches as one of the figures retreats to the opposite side of the fire. If he is a bit closer, he might be able to catch a glimpse of his face. “I will have more than enough power to complete the transformation.” 

“And it won’t kill me? The transformation?” 

“You sound like you’re having second thoughts…” 

“I’m not!” The second figure insists, “The Primes deserve to pay for what they’ve done.” 

“And pay they will.” Youngjae’s blood runs cold as he finally gains sight of one of the figures. “The Primes and Mark Tuan.” 

“Holy shit—” Youngjae moves to make a mad dash back through the forest, but just as he takes a step backwards, his foot catches a large divot in the earth. He crashes to the ground with a faint yelp, cursing the new ache in his ankle. Panic skyrockets through his veins at the sound of approaching footsteps. Even against the slight pain, Youngjae manages to force himself to his feet, ready to make a break for it, but a broad chest halts his movements. 

Youngjae’s heart stops when he meets the gaze of Changbin, the temperamental omega from the werewolf pack. 

He smirks, “Your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” 

Youngjae hisses, “Screw you.” 

Changbin remains unbothered. “What should we do with him?” 

“Well… we can’t have him warning anyone of our plans.” Minho comes into view, wearing a similar smirk to that of the werewolf. “And besides, he might turn out to be pretty useful to us.” 

“Why are you doing this!?” Youngjae demands as Changbin shoves him back to the ground. “Are you that desperate for revenge that you’d actually kill Mark-hyung!?” 

Minho shakes his head, “I’m not gonna kill him. That special gift is reserved for the Primes.” He chuckles, before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m just gonna take back what I rightfully deserve…” 

Youngjae sneers at the witch, “You’re a fucking traitor! A sick, selfish—” 

The siphoner immediately grows silent when Changbin lands a harsh hit against his cheek. At the heavy impact, Youngjae goes flying to the earth and doesn’t rise again. 

Changbin glances at Minho, “You sure about all this?” 

Minho only smirks. 

“I’m dead sure.”

[ghstandpucks]

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch.1

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for reading the prologue of this story and for your feed back! I loved hearing from you! Now I just hope this lives up to the expectations lol I would love to hear feedback on this chapter! Enjoy!

Prologue 

You were on your last handful of boxes as you walked into your new Denver apartment. You were about 10 minutes from the rink in a cute brick building. Large windows let in rays of sunshine as the warm September day came to an end. The downtown Denver lights where starting to come on as people milled about. You slowly unloaded some boxes; thankful the apartment came semi furnished with at least a couch, dining table and bed. You didn’t mind though, having an apartment back home in Anaheim, California, most of your stuff just came with you. What you didn’t need you either sold or took to your parent’s house to store it. You grew up only half an hour from Anaheim, and moved to an apartment there when you were 17. You had graduated high school early, and moved closer for training to focus on making the Olympic team. At first your mom had stayed with you, the both of you going home on weekends. Then at 18, your parents thought it was fine for you to be on your own, seeing as they weren’t too far away. On the other hand, moving to Colorado by yourself was going to be an adjustment.

Sunday morning you got up early and began your day at the grocery store. After unloading, you continued to unpack. Around 3 in the afternoon, there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you saw a package on the ground with your name on it. Taking it into your kitchen, you went about cutting the tape to open it. Inside was dark blue fabric with a card addressed to Coach Y/L/N. Opening the card, it read “Welcome to the Colorado Avalanche Coach Y/L/N. I hope you made it to Denver safely. We are looking forward to having you work with us this season. See you on Monday at 7am!” ~ Jared Bednar.

           You pulled the fabric out and found that it was the warm up/sweat suits that the coaches wear for practice. The jacket was embroidered with Coach Y/L/N on the upper right, and the Avs logo on the left. You smiled to yourself and ran to your room to try it on. Looking in the mirror, you could not help but laugh. The pants were just a little long and looked baggy, but you figured it was meant for men, and hockey players at that. Not your typical leggings or skirts for figure skating. Picking up your phone, you facetimed one of your best friends/ older brother figure, Jeremy Abbott. “JER!” you yelled as he answered.

           “Y/N! There is my favorite little superstar!” He yelled back just as happy. The two of you had always been close. You met at your first senior worlds competition while you worked with the same choreographer that he did that year. He took to showing you the ropes of the competition and took you under his wing. You were each other’s biggest supporters, with you even standing in for his coach at a few competitions. “Check out the threads!” he laughed as you modeled your new outfit for him through the mirror.

           “The pants are kind of baggy, but isn’t it awesome! I feel so official!” you squealed, overly excited.

           “I’m sure you can opt out of wearing those if you wanted to,” Jeremy suggested, unpacking one of his boxes. He was set to work with the Minnesota Wild this season.

           “Probably. But I at least want to show up tomorrow with everything on to show I appreciate it. I definitely was not expecting this,” you replied.

           “True. At least you got a whole outfit! I only got a t-shirt,” Jeremy laughed. You talked a bit longer with each other before saying your good bye’s and good lucks for tomorrow.

           Waking up the next morning, you were nervous but excited for this new experience. You put your coach’s outfit on, straightened your Y/H/C hair, and put on a little makeup. From always wearing a tone of makeup for competitions, on a daily bases you didn’t like to wear much. Most days you just threw on some foundation and mascara. You wanted to look nice for your first day with the Avs, but not like you were trying to hard. To be honest, you were looking forward to meeting the team, but you knew things had to stay professional because of the position you were in. And if you wanted to be a good spokesperson and liaison for the organizations, you had to remain professional. From training in Anaheim, you were friends with some of the Ducks, so you didn’t think it would be too difficult to work with the Avs.

           Upon arriving at the rink, Coach Bednar was waiting for you with a few others. Not only did it look like other coaches, but media people as well. You smiled as you walked up to them. “Good morning!” you spoke cheerfully.

           “Good morning Y/N. It’s good to see you again,” Bednar shook your hand as you walked over, a few pictures being taken. You were relieved when you saw that they were all wearing the same outfit as you. While you got ready this morning a thought crossed your mind that maybe they didn’t wear them and you would be left looking like you were trying to hard. After being introduced to the other coaches and taking a quick group photo in front of the rink, you followed Bednar as he showed you around. “And one more thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Now you are official,” he smiled, handing you a whistle. You were slightly embarrassed over how excited you became putting it around your neck. As you went to thank him, a voice came from behind you.

           “So you must be our figure skater!” You whipped around to see a handsome man with a charming smile on his face. “Gabriel Landeskog,” he held out his hand to shake. You smiled and shook it.

           “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you replied.

           “Gabe is our team captain. The guys shouldn’t cause you any trouble, but Gabe will be looking out for you also,” Bednar said.

           “Of course. If you need anything just ask Coach Y/L/N,” Gabe nodded.

           “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to working with you all,” you stated. Gabe walked away to the locker room laughing to himself. Walking in, he went right over to Nate.

           “Oh you are screwed,” he joked. Nate looked up at him with concern.  

           “What do you mean?” he asked, confused by Gabe’s statement.

           “I mean, if you thought our figure skater was attractive on the video, which I’m pretty positive you did, you’re going to fall when you meet her. She’s adorable and I’m sure Mel will want to adopt her at some point,” he whispered so no one around them would hear. Nate couldn’t help the redness that started to creep up the back of his neck. So Gabe had caught his look the other day. He was trying to think of something to say as Bednar walked in.

           “Get ready and let’s go gentlemen. You all have a new face to meet and she’s already out on the ice,” he chuckled, before leaving the room to head to the ice himself. Gabe sent Nate a wink as he went to put his own skates on.

           One by one the team filed out of the locker room and out on the ice. You were standing around center ice listening to the coaches talk and getting to know them better. They seemed welcoming enough, which was comforting. You tried not to pay too much attention to the team skating a few warm up laps around you, forcing yourself to be actively engaged in the conversation the coaches were having. You could feel your heart start to beat a bit faster though as the nerves sank in. What if they didn’t like you and this whole program failed? Trying to shake off the negative thoughts, you forced a soft smile on your face just as you were taught when you first stepped onto the ice all those years ago. No matter what happens, you smile.

           Coach Bednar blew his whistle and the team started to gather in front of him, taking a knee. You turned to the team as you stood behind the head coach, in line with the others. You tried to avoid any prolonged eye contact as you swept over the team briefly. Nate on the other hand was having a difficult time listening to what Bednar was saying as he stared at you. He wasn’t the only one, others were also trying to size you up and figure you out. How much of the girl they saw in the clip were you in real life? As you stood there in the baggy coach’s outfit and your hair pulled into a ponytail, the only thing that seemed to resemble that girl was the smile you offered them. Eventually, Bednar finished what he was saying and turned toward you, motioning for you to join him. You glided over and placed your toe pick in the ice to stop, a slight motion that did not go unnoticed by a bunch of hockey players who had no toe picks. “This is Coach Y/L/N. I’ve already told you guys a bit about her, but why don’t you introduce yourself,” Bednar said to you. You nodded and your smile brightened a small amount. Here’s the performance.

           “Hi guys! My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m excited to be here with you all and I look forward to getting to know you and working with you. Um, I am the liaison for this program and partnership between the NHL and USFS, so if you have any questions about it feel free to ask me. I can pretty much answer whatever you want to know as I attended like every meeting and helped coordinate it all. And…yeah. I’m just happy to be here and excited to see how this goes,” You said, holding your hands behind your back to hide how much they were shaking. You may be the spokesperson and speak frequently at events, but that didn’t mean you were always comfortable doing so. You glanced around and were relieved to see some smiles, even if they were toothless ones. That was when you caught the eye of number 29. He gave you a soft grin and looked away, almost as if he had been caught. Nate was thankful he had a helmet on so no one could point out the redness creeping its way into his face.

~ ~ ~

           About an hour later, you had a group of about 8 players with you. Since you had to get to know everyone’s skating strengths and weaknesses before you could move forward with a plan of action to improve their skating, you ran them through a basic drill to see which edge and side they stopped and turned momentum on quicker. As you were watching their footwork intently, Nate was watching you, and Gabe was watching him. The captain had never seen his friend so interested in someone so quickly.

           You turned back to the group in a sharp movement after watching Kadri go through the drill and did not pay attention to your own foot placement. Before you knew it, the back of your blade got caught up in the baggy sweats by your other foot and you stumbled forward. Thankfully, from years of skating you had quick reflexes and righted yourself within a second, letting out an embarrassed giggle. You weren’t the only one with quick reflexes though as you saw at least 5 pairs of gloved hands lunge toward you to keep you upright. “You ok?” Nate asked. He had lunged the closest to you, something that did not go unnoticed by Gabe, or the others for that fact.

           “I’m fine, thanks. These things are too baggy. I’m not used to skating in sweats,” you replied, smiling at him and thanking the cold air of the ice rink for already turning your cheeks pink, and not just from embarrassment. You locked eyes with the center, and as his concern turned into a soft smile, you couldn’t help the butterflies that seemed to take flight in your stomach. It seemed like a Hallmark movie moment, until someone spoke up and ruined it.  

           “You could always just take them off,” a voice suggested. You looked up with raised eyebrows to find Tyson Jost looking horrified at the words that he had just uttered. “I didn’t mean it that way! I am so sorry. I meant that you could, like, wear something else. But definitely still wear something. And…”

           “Laps, now” Gabe gave a slight shove to Tyson and the hockey player took off with one more ‘sorry’ being uttered over his shoulder. Gabe then turned back to you.

           “He didn’t mean that in a negative way,” he tried to explain for his teammate. You broke into a smile and laughed lightly.

           “I know. It was kind of fun to watch him sputter though,” you shrugged. Gabe looked shocked. He didn’t think you would take this so lightly, with it being your first day and not knowing everyone’s personality yet. Everyone else started to laugh as they gave Jost a hard time as he came back around.

           “I think you are going to fit in just fine here coach,” Gabe chuckled. You smiled at him and the rest of the players who were laughing as well, nodding along. You turned your attention back to Nate who was still standing next to you and giggled as he sent you a quick wink before skating back to his teammates. Yeah, you think your going to like it here.

tags: @bqstqnbruin​

[sparklingchan]

Dancing with a Stranger || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing :  Reader (fem.) x Lee Know

Word count: 6k+

Warnings: Cuss words, mentions of alcohol, mentions of a break up, slight violence and blood (its nothing intense, I swear) ,suggestive towards the end, not proof read.

Genre: Angst , fluff, boyfriend AU , break up - make up AU.

Description : Lee Minho is the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for but when you end up doing the only thing he had begged you not to do, things start going downhill.

Author’s Note: I KNOW I SAID I’LL POST THIS ON MY BIRTHDAY but I am an impatient person and I really wanted everyone to read this asap :( This imagine is one of my personal favorites and like Boyfriend!Minho really hits different, won’t you agree? (Reposting because tumblr decided to be a bitch and not show up my fic in the tags? It’s 2 AM and I’m legit crying?? I was so excited about this) Yeh le @chogiwow​ !

Please do reblog, like and send in your views about this fic. I’m always happy to receive DMs and asks!

Enjoy!

It is really funny how a crowded, happening place like your college corridor turns into a cold ,eerie location of some prospective gruesome crimes by sun down. But then again , if you really think about it , maybe it’s not much of a ‘prospect’ at all.

Your knuckles start stinging first ,spreading then to your palm and the rest of your arm.

And the horrifying yet unavoidable realization finally dawns on you - you shouldn’t have punched your professor’s daughter.

“Y-you! You bitch! How dare you touch me?” She has this annoyingly loud voice that pierces through the tense air like a bullet. The prettiest girl on campus , the nicest of them all, the most desirable , but anyone who sees her right now, would be convinced she is neither of those things. Excluding you , of course , because you always knew how double faced and rude she was behind the mask of a pure princess.

“You should have kept your mouth shut then, Anya.” You say , hoping that the girl in front of you doesn’t notice the sudden fear in your voice that has replaced your authoritative tone from before.

But you can’t back off now.

Anya stumbles back with her mouth wide open , clutching her jaw as she curses under her breath , “My mother will hear about this ! I will get you expelled !”

“Oh yeah? Try me and the only thing your mother will hear about is what you and our lovely class president John do in the basement when she isn’t home.” You shoot back. You mentally want to slap yourself for that sharp tongue of yours that refuses to stop any time sooner. You had always wished that you’d gotten your father’s gentleness but sadly , you were the fateful heir of your mother’s roughness.

Anya doesn’t reply , instead , she throws herself at you , pushing you harshly against the lockers .And it is not long before her balled fists find a way to your nose , punching so hard that you literally feel the blood dripping down your face. You are so glad that all the students and staff have already gone home , you’d have hated for anyone to witness this.

“You will never lay your filthy hands on me again, y/l/n. ” she wraps her left hand around your throat while the other one pulls your hair with the strength of a bull. You scream in pain. Your body goes limp for a second - not from pain but from fear , but you realise it’s too late now. You should have thought about your fears before punching Anya.

Now all you can do is save yourself and escape.

The numbing pain from your scalp spreads through your head , going down your face and then attacking your throat. It gets harder to breathe.

“I’ll tell you what , Anya , you deserved it. You deserved all of it. ” you croak , “I told you to stop spreading filthy rumours about my cousin but you didn’t stop , I told you to stop bothering me but you didn’t listen. And now you’ve gone as far as spreading bullshit about my boyfriend who you’ve never even met ! I hate to break this to you but all of this is not going to make your trash personality any cooler. ”

Anya yelps with anger , increasing the grip on your throat and hair as you kick your legs helplessly, coughing .

“Shut up, y/l/n .” She growls , “ and as a matter of fact, Your boyfriend is just a mere dancer , how funny. An A-grade college student dating a poor street dancer. What happened , y/n, ran out of good guys for yourself?”

You want to yell at her and tell her that Minho is anything but a mere street dancer . He’s an amazingly talented artist who loves expressing himself through dancing , he’s a hardworking and honest person who is part of the country’s biggest dancing crew , and he’s your safe place , your home , your everything and god save anyone who dare hurt him.

But you bite your tongue this time.

“What now? Afraid ?” Anya raises her eyebrow, her lips curving into an ugly, sadistic smile.

You hate that smile.

You use one of your free hands to grab her hair while the other one slams hard against her jaw.

“Shit.” She mutters , falling back into the hallway.

But you’re not done yet.

You walk toward her with furious eyes and balled fists , and it isn’t long before she lands on the floor on her butt with a bloody nose and a black eye.

“Keep your mouth shut or you’ll end up on a hospital bed next time. In a coma. ” you spit out those words while she holds her tears back, face caked with humiliation.

Then you turn on your heels and walk out of the stupid college campus which would yet again be filled with more bullies by tomorrow morning, just like it has for centuries.

The dorm in which Minho lives almost always smells like freshly baked cookies ( courtesy: Lee Felix) and on rare occasions, it smells like burnt pancakes ( also courtesy: Lee Felix). Today , it smells like the former and you sigh in relief.

“Oh , my god ,y/n. What happened?” Changbin opens the door after you knock thrice , “Minho, dude, Come out , y/n is here!”

You shuffle into their big living room , head hanging low and eyes avoiding all sorts of confrontation , afraid of having to explain your stupid behavior.

“Y/n?” Minho sucks in a deep breath at your sorry sight , his eyes glazed with dread and fear as he walks toward you, ”Oh god, what happened?”

He swiftly takes out a handkerchief from his pockets , pressing it against your bleeding nose. His eyes are glossy with fear.

“I-it’s nothing. I fell down the stairs.” You lie. Can he please shut up and hug you already? You hate his questions so much , especially when you just can’t answer him.

“Y/n , that is not what a fall looks like. I’m not stupid. Whom did you beat up this time?” He asks , crossing his arms across his chest. And you really do almost blurt out the truth because it’s that easy for you to open up to him and because he knows you like no one else does. You’ve dated him long enough for him to know you like the back of his own hand. And that sometimes gets you in so much trouble. Lying to him is a near impossible task.

“Y/n, look at me!” He says , slightly annoyed now. He touches your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him but you’re too afraid to face him right now. Too guilty. So you shrug him off and walk into his shared room with Hyunjin, a homely feeling enveloping you almost instantly.

“Y/n, don’t you dare ignore me.”

Ugh. He can be so nosy at times.

“I came here for comfort , not for an interrogation. ” you pout , plopping down on the bed.

Minho scoffs , closing the door behind him. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of shorts , and he smells like the expensive shampoo you had bought for him a few months ago ,which he initially refused to take but now loves it. He looks so good and smells so good and suddenly all you want to do is cuddle him and talk about his day, with his Winnie The Pooh blanket draped around your bodies.

“You aren’t getting any comfort till you tell me what happened.” He says . He stands with his back against the door , and stares at you as if you were a criminal. Maybe you were one ,but that doesn’t mean he’ll hate you or something ,right?

“Did you hit the professor’s daughter?” He asks when you don’t answer even after two whole minutes. Your stomach does a somersault, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You regret telling him about Anya a few weeks ago and you specifically saying that you’d one day ’ punch her brains out ’. You wish you’d shut up sometimes.

You play with your fingers, staring at your feet. You can’t look him in the eye anymore , not when you did the exact (and only) thing he had asked you not to do. You feel horribly guilty.

“Well in my defense, she was being a bitch ,okay? She was calling you a good for nothing dancer and ugly and underqualified and - ” you sigh , “ My point is, I couldn’t bear listening to all that, okay?” You admit , cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Minho doesn’t answer, very unusual of him by the way, and you snap your head to look at him.

The eyes that had once held concern and fear for your well being now are clouded with disappointment . He’s mad at you.

“She’s not wrong though. I am a good for nothing dancer, I go to a stupid cyber college. Nothing worth fighting over. Why the fuck did you put yourself in danger like that!” And he’s yelling now , his relaxed posture from before now replaced with a tensed one. You notice his clenched fists and teeth ,and you shudder with fear. He is furious. But at what? You don’t really know.

“Are you seriously justifying her actions? Minho, she can’t talk shit about you. I will not let her do that! ” You yell back ,getting up from the bed , “She doesn’t even know you!”

“Which is exactly why her opinions on my lifestyle do not matter ! And you don’t have to just go around acting like my bodyguard all the time!” He says.

Your heart drops, brows furrowed in confusion at his words that feel like a dagger is plunged into your heart.

You walk up to him, trying to take his hand in yours but he extracts it right back. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t thinking. You know how crazy I get when I’m angry.”

“A ’ sorry ’ doesn’t suffice it. The damage is already done. And if tomorrow, you are thrown out of the university, who’s fault would it be? ” he presses his hand to his face, trying to calm himself down , “I can’t believe I am dating such an immature woman ,y /n. Grow the fuck up, will you?” He says , his anger filled eyes staring right into your soul . Your heart breaks into millions of small pieces , as your breath hitches in your throat. He had never said something so harsh to you in the many years that you’ve dated him and you really wish he hadn’t done it today either because you realise you’re not very good at handling hurtful words, especially from Minho. At all.

“Minho , I know you’re angry - ”

“Leave.” The world stops spinning for a second , your eyes widening with shock, “Go home. Don’t come back again.”

You want to cry but tears seemed to have given up on you too , his words striking you harder than any of Anya’s punches ever did. All your feelings seem to have converted into a much worse state of numbness when those words leave his mouth.

“Y-you are not breaking up with me, right?” Your usually loud voice comes out as a whisper.

“I am. Go, please. I don’t want to see you right now.” He opens the room door for you to exit, his eyes never meeting yours. His lower lip is caught between his teeth, a sign that he’s about to tear up yet you don’t know if he wants too be comforted by you right now, or ever. So picking up the remaining pieces of your damaged heart , you walk out of the room , stopping only to glance over at him one last time , in hopes that he’d change his mind. But no, his angry demeanor is still there , strong and tough and unbreakable.

And when you finally leave , Minho is grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t home - for he would have hated to cry in front of his roommate.

The bright neon sign with ’ Kim’s Restaurant ’ written on it shines in the distance , blurred only by the tears in your eyes and not by the tiny droplets of water slowly falling from the sky.

You feel a soft blanket of comfort draping over you when you walk toward the familiar building.

Your aunt and uncle have worked hard to build a proper business from a small shop that had once just sold fried chicken and cold drinks ; and it makes you so happy to see their new restaurant still packed with people this late in the evening.

“Oh , y/n. I was just about to call you. Did you not go to your dorm yet? ” your aunt asks from the reception desk , chewing her favorite gum and typing aggressively into the computer.

“I stayed back today. Project work.” You lie. Your aunt lifts up her head , her eyebrows knitted together and a suspicious scowl gracing her face , almost mimicking your mother. Your mom and your aunt are twin sisters , born just three minutes apart , and since then it has become your mom’s life mission to remind your aunt of the whooping three minute gap every chance she gets. It’s hilarious, really.

“Don’t make that face at me. You look exactly like mom.” You mutter , leaning against the wooden desk.

“I do look exactly like your mom , y/n. ” she replies with a chuckle, “Anyway, what’s going on? You look tired.”

Honestly, you’d love to talk about Minho and the impulsive breakup and the aching in your heart with your aunt because there’s no better person to seek advice from, but you don’t feel it right to burden her when she’s working plus a part of you doesn’t really trust your aunt to keep all the secrets to herself.

“No, I’m okay. Just mid college crisis.” you say.

Your aunt hums in response, probably not buying it but you’re happy she doesn’t push it anymore, “ Are you hungry? Want something to eat?”

A bag of fries with a bucket full of chicken wings sounds terribly tempting right now but you’ve lost all your appetite for the day the moment Minho closed the door behind you. Now all you feel is drained, tired, sad. Moreover, that is not what you were here for, “Nah, I’m good. Is Yugyeom home though?”

The door to your aunt’s house opens only after you ring the stupid bell at least three times , as you stand on the porch, judging the loud music that blasts from within the walls. “Wow , you look like shit.” Yugyeom always has some snarky comments up his sleeve but you are in no mood to be playing word games with him right now. You barge into the house , pushing past your cousin who you smells like donuts and Axe.

“Shut up.” You say, plopping down on his bed . You really want to cry right now but Yugyeom has never been big on consoling so you try to hold it in .

“What’s wrong? I’m not joking.” He sits beside you, putting down his gaming console on the table by the bed.

You play with your fingers , breathing in and out to calm your nerves. Yugyeom, out of all the people in the world , is the easiest to talk to but today , you find yourself on the edge , trying to be very careful with your choice of words. Maybe you were afraid of angering him as well.

“I..I kind of beat Anya up.” You confess ,swallowing the lump in your throat.

Yugyeom becomes still for a moment , staring at you with his mouth gaping and then his face breaks into the widest grin in the world.

“You really beat that bitch up? Like for real?” He asks , excitedly bro fisting the air like an athlete after winning an important match.

You nod , “And then I went to see Minho. He obviously didn’t react the way you did. He was very angry and then he broke up with me. ”

Yugyeom’s celebrations are short lived as you continue to tell him the details of what had happened earlier, his smile slowly dissolving into a frown.

“Y/n, first of all you really need to learn how to break news to other people. It’s always the bad one first and then the good one. Noob.” Yugyeom bumps his shoulder softly to yours. You would otherwise have argued with him and told him why the happy news should always be first and why the bad news should be last but you feel too exhausted to speak anymore. Your shoulders slump as you put your hands on either side of your head.

“How could he just break up with me like that? He had no logical reason to! He’s so selfish.” You mutter , tears gathering up in your eyes. You try to blink them away before your cousin notices them.

“I don’t think he did it for himself , y/n. You told him that you hit Anya because she was speaking trash about him. Of course he’d distance himself from you so you wouldn’t want to fight his fights for him.” Yugyeom says.

“I wasn’t fighting his fights! She trash talks about you and me and him and everyone else. It was the last straw for me. I didn’t do anything wrong. ” you explain , your heart hammering against your chest.

“I didn’t say what you did was wrong ,y/n. You have a right to be angry with her. But what we’re talking about is Minho. Think about this from his point of view,” Yugyeom replies, his hands on your shoulders , “You beat Anya up , got hurt and possibly put yourself in trouble with her mother all because of him. He feels guilty.” Yugyeom is speaking to you like he’s speaking in one of those debates that he does at college. You love seeing him speak, mostly because he is so manipulative yet subtle , smart yet observant and he can convince you so easily. He could easily pass as the best debater in your college - too bad you’d already taken that place.

“Or it could be because he doesn’t want more trouble in his account. Maybe he’s ashamed of me. ” you whisper, “ And I told you, I didn’t do it just for him. I did it for me and you too and all those people she bullies and makes fun of. Why is he the only one reacting like this? ”

Yugyeom sighs, “Yes , I appreciate your concern for my well being, y/n. But he might not be thinking the same way as I am. I was happy that you beat Anya up , but he was worried about you. He obviously doesn’t want you to get badly hurt.”

You rub the tears that flow down your face with the heel of your hand then place your head on Yugyeom ’s shoulder.

“He might have fallen out of love with me. Maybe he just needed an excuse to call it off.” You mutter.

“You know Minho’s better than that, y/n.”

He’s right . Minho really is better than that.

Break ups suck. In the truest sense. But what you now realize is that break ups don’t hurt that much immediately, but slowly , as the days go by and the memories start flashing in front of your eyes every waking moment , you feel like nothing more than a sack of meat and bones, drained of all emotions.

“For this unit of organic chemistry, I need all of you to memorise the reaction mechanisms over the weekend.” Your professor’s voice feels distant to you , as if there were a wall in between the two of you , even though he stands just a few steps away.

Your classmates start murmuring among themselves, fixing study dates that almost always are unsuccessful and gathering notes they hadn’t bothered to complete until now. But you remain seated in your chair , staring out the window, not bothering to talk to anyone.

It is a bright sunny afternoon and you see all the happy faces out on the field - couples, friends , classmates. You feel jealous. You clearly remember planning a weekend trip with Minho a few days ago and If you hadn’t decided to mess things up so bad, he’d have already been at your college gate by now , waiting in his father’s old car. You clearly remember how excited he was about the trip.

The dismissal bell rings not long after and as you walk out of the college gate, surrounded by thousands of students, you feel lonelier as ever. And your mind imagines his car below the tall banyan tree , his lean frame leaning against the door with a silly grin. You could almost see him there. Even though its just in your mind.

You miss him so much that it gets hard for you to even breathe properly.

“Okay , how long are we going to stay here? I have better things to do than stalk your girlfriend, Lee.” Changbin’s whiny voice breaks the silence in Minho’s car, much to his annoyance.

“Just a few more minutes. Till she reaches the dorm.” Minho replies , his hand limp on the steering wheel and his lips pressed in a tense line.

His eyes are focused on you , your slump shoulders and your unusually slow walk and the dark circles under your eyes. It is obvious that Minho wasn’t the only one having sleepless nights .

“Dude , why don’t you just talk to her? I’m sure she would listen.” Hyunjin says from the backseat , munching on peanuts, “ Plus I think she saw us.”

Minho watches as you turn around a corner and walk toward your dorm building , away from him. He almost wishes you’d seen him.

“It’s not that easy.” Minho mutters, turning the engine on.

At least he knows you’re okay, and safe. That’s enough reassurance for him to try and move on but he somehow always ends up driving to your college gates during dismissal,  the brief view of your face still making the worst of his days better.

“It’s not that easy.” He repeats to reassure himself .

“Guess what.” Yugyeom chimes in early one morning, leaning against the locker door beside yours.

“What?” You ask , not sparing him a glance. Your hands busy themselves in flipping over the pages of your notebook ; last minute revisions before tests are more important than the actual studying.

“I saw Anya this morning. She was running late , I think, and she bumped into a junior near the gate. I was sure all hell was about to break loose but she just apologized and left!” Yugyeom says , laughing.

You turn to look at him, a look of surprise plastered on your face. Anya actually did that? Instead of being her usual, defensive, violent self she actually chose to apologize? It’s hard to digest but you’re sure Yugyeom wouldn’t be making all that up. He’s not that creative.

“The sun must have risen from West today.” You reply with a chuckle.

The morning bell rings throughout the corridor, indicating the commencement of your classes. Throwing in your notebook ,you close your locker and heave a sigh. Its just a small quiz but you find yourself stressing over every single thing these days.

“Oh and by the way , it’s Jackson Wang’s birthday party tomorrow.” Yugyeom adds as the two of you start making your way towards the chemistry lab , coats hanging by your arms.

“And we’re going?” You question ,cocking your eyebrow.

Yugyeom is not really into parties , especially the over-the-top , spectacular , rich-kid parties that Jackson Wang often finds himself throwing, yet Yugyeom always goes because a) Jackson is his best friend and b) Who doesn’t like to feel like a rich man even if it’s just for one night?

“Yes. Both of us.” He says. You shrug your shoulders. You have always liked going to Jackson ’s parties and fawning over his huge mansion and the various cuisines placed in front of you that you can’t even name properly and watching other rich kids like himself play golf in the living room. It was pretty entertaining . Even with your post break up gloominess, you wouldn’t want to miss all of that.

“Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he starts ,“I saw Lee Minho outside our college gate yesterday. You might want to do something about that.”

No, unlike what was expected of you, you didn’t really do anything about it but Yugyeom’s words stick to you like a piece of gum throughout the whole day ,consuming every thought and pulling out all those thoughts that you’d stacked up and thrown away into the top most drawers of your mind. You were convinced that the day he broke up with you , he was done. He didn’t want to look back or reconsider. He wasn’t coming back to you. And you’ve been trying to move on as best as you could ,keeping your mind occupied and busy all the time. Yet you had to accept that in the wee hours of the night , staring at the ceiling ,you would often find yourself reminiscing him and whatever you two had. The gentle touches , the late night walks, shy smiles and endless talks ; you missed them.

But his presence outside the college changes the whole game, doesn’t it?

Later that day, you kind of regret agreeing to go to Jackson’s party because you soon realised that both Minho and Jackson went to the same dancing school at one point of time , and Minho probably (like a 99.9% probability because Jackson Wang never leaves anyone uninvited) was invited too.

You dread every second in Yugyeom’s stupid car that brings you one more step closer to seeing Lee Minho again. And although you would never dare say it out loud , a part of you was a little excited too.

“Dude , y/n , I have never felt so underdressed in my entire life.” Yugyeom breathes in as the car stops in front of the huge metal gates of Jackson’s mansion.

“Me neither.” You agree, your eyes glued to the people walking in and out of the doors, wearing tuxedos and dresses and sparkly jewelry. You feel horribly out of place all of a sudden, like a fish flying in the sky and a bird swimming deep under the water- you feel like you don’t belong here.

You look down at your black converse , tightly laced and washed for this very party and your loose ,dark green tshirt and ripped jeans .

“Why didn’t you tell me this was a fucking masquerade ball or soemthing?"you hiss at your cousin.

"Shut up, y/n , you’re not the only one feeling odd. ” Yugyeom shoots back

But all of that discomfort is gone the moment you see Jackson Wang sitting on the huge sofa in the living room , wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top , drunk and wasted and blabbering.

“Let’s go before he sees us.” Yugyeom says , pushing you through the crowds of people clad in silks and pure cotton , “Drunk Jackson is difficult to handle.”

“Oh , I beg to differ , All Jacksons are difficult to handle.”

The garden behind the mansion is filled with even more people than your brain was accustomed to seeing while the DJ stands at the top of a platform , headphones on and screaming into the mic every once in a while to hype up the crowd in front of him , but you realise it’s hardly needed. People are already way too hyped up in here.

“Y/n?” You hear a voice say and you immediately turn around to face Hwang Hyunjin standing under the wonderful night sky, looking as gorgeous as ever. But then again ,when does he not look pretty?

“Hey, Hyunjin. How have you been?” You ask with a smile. Your awkward hand movements do not go unnoticed by him but he thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ve been good. How have you been ?” He replies , inching closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see Yugyeom slowing disappearing into the crowds, leaving you all alone to deal with your ex boyfriend’s best friend. You make a mental note to never lend your Netflix account to him again.

“I’m okay, too.” You say.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes staring at you curiously, “Tell me , y/n , how have you really been? I know what happened between you and Minho.”

You gulp , heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it.” You say, biting the inside of your cheeks nervously.

“If you say so.” he grins , putting an arm around you , “But I’ll be real honest with you , Minho - ”

The words are cut off when the DJ suddenly blasts a new song through the speakers , simultaneously yelling into the mic. The sweaty, wasted , hopeless crowd around you yell a few ’ Let’s GO! ’s and ’ Fuck It Up ’s in response.

“What were you saying?” You yell over the music , pinching Hyunjin’s t-shirt to get his attention. He glances at back you then points toward his left , “That.”

You turn your head in that direction , your heart skipping a beat the moment your eyes meet Minho’s nervous ones. You see him walk towards you in long strides ,his handsome features painted with anxiousness and worry and a foreign sense of guilt. You were angry at him ,yes ,but as he makes his way to you , his silky hair bouncing softly ,his pink lips slightly parted, his starry eyes locked on you ,he looks…Brilliant? Breathtaking? Gorgeous? Stunning? All of these?

He wears a blue tshirt with black pants and has a jacket tied around his waist. He looks beautiful- even though you are mad at him. He looks way too beautiful to not acknowledge it.

And just a few seconds before he reaches you , you break away from Hyunjin’s hold and run away into the crowd.

“Y/n, wait!” You hear the both of them yell at the same time. But only one of them follows behind you and you don’t even have to look back to know who it is.

Fear and anger creep into your body , slow but painful like poison. You remember the last few days and how horrible it had been for you , all because of Minho and his lack of understanding in a moment when it was needed the most. Over the past few weeks, your ex boyfriend had made no attempts to contact you whatsoever and if he thinks he could just pop out of nowhere and start talking to you again, then he’s gravely mistaken. You might still love him and want nothing more than to hold him close , but that doesn’t mean you aren’t angry anymore . You are not ready to face him. At all.

Your feet burn as you run further away from Minho, jogging up the stairs inside the mansion with your hand tightly gripping the cold metal railing.

“Y/n, please, just listen to me once.” He yells, still not giving up.

You scoff , “Why should I? You didn’t listen to me that day either!”

You find a door at the end of the staircase, your hands pushing it to reach the empty terrace that you’d heard Jackson bragging about during your English classes when everyone was too bored to listen to the professor. The terrace really was beautiful, with all kinds of flowers blooming and a fountain with lights , you would have almost been breath taken if not for the man closing up behind you.

“Y/n, damnit, ” Minho huffs, reaching his hand out toward you, panting, “Stop, okay? Just listen to me , please.”

Not like you have an option anyway. You sigh in defeat , walking toward the fountain, the carpet grass rustling under your feet. “What?” You demand, your voice bitter with anger.

Minho stands in front of you , his brown unkempt hair and firey eyes reminding you of the night you guys had kissed for the first time. He stands at an arm’s distance, giving you enough space to think things through. He would never want to force you to do something you wouldn’t want to. And even if everything turned out to be not in his favor tonight, he’d gladly accept it because he deserved it after treating you so badly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers after a few seconds.

You roll your eyes, “For what? What did you do? As far as I know, THE Lee Minho never makes mistakes!”

He hangs his head low with shame ; he didn’t mean a single word he’d said that night. He was worried, yes, he was very worried about your bashful attitude but he was also very grateful to you for always having his back. It physically hurt him to see you bleeding and completely worn out that day.

“Well, I did make a mistake this time. I said some words that I didn’t mean at all and I’m afraid the girl I intended those words at hates me.” He says , pressing his lips in a line.

“Damn right , she does.” You can’t even look into his eyes anymore because you’re too afraid of laying your true feelings bare in front of him.

“I’m really, really sorry, baby. I know I’m an asshole and I hurt you. I have no excuses to offer but I just want you to know that a single second more away from you will drive me crazy. ”

You process his sentences slowly - letter by letter, inking those words permanently into your memories. “Why?” You ask. What a silly question ,y/n, do you really want to torment this man so much ?

Minho gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement, “Because you’re quite literally my everything.”

Minho only dares to grin a little when you no longer throw virtual daggers from your eyes at him. “I hate you , you know?” You say.

“I know ,y/n. I don’t even blame you. I shouldn’t have said all that. I was just so, so mad. But that really wasn’t an excuse to be so rude to you or break up. I should have talked it out instead . I deserve the hate.” He admits.

The frown on your lips dissipates slowly ,making way for a sad, small smile.

“It was so hard, Minho. You don’t even know. I had never felt so lonely in my entire life.” You say.

“Believe me, y/n, I know.” He whispers as your hands find their way to his cheeks, rubbing them ever so gently.

You scan his face, absorbing in the fact that he was actually in front of you and this wasn’t one of your unrealistic imaginations.

Minho takes not more than a half step towards you and you automatically wrap your arms around his neck , like the millions of times you’d already done before. Everything about him is so familiar yet so new. Like layers and layers to discover and only one goddamn lifetime.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck , mumbling soft apologies against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist with every passing second.

“I missed you so much.” You admit, playing with his beautiful brown locks, taking in the smell of his (your) favorite body wash.

“I missed you too.” He replies , “So goddamn much. I almost wanted to cuddle Hwang Hyunjin at night.”

You laugh ,as he admires the way your noes scrunches up when you giggle and the way your eyes bend into crescent moons. In that moment, Minho realises how much he loves seeing you laugh ,especially when he’s the reason behind it. It fills him up with so much pride.

You hear the DJ change the song into a slow , romantic one as his voice booms through the speakers once again , “Ladies and gentlemen, grab the person next to you, with consent of course, and hold them close for this one because tonight is all about dancing with strangers!”

The crowd goes feral.

Minho raises an eyebrow at the DJ’s words , a sly smile playing on his lips , “Shall we?”

He pulls away from the embrace, gently bowing toward you and offering you his hand like some gentleman right out of a fairytale.

“He said dancing with a stranger, not girlfriend.” You deadpan but you take his hand anyway.

He chuckles, leaning closer to rest his forehead on yours, “Technically, we’re still broken up. That makes us strangers.”

You have to give in - not because of his weird reasoning but because of how terribly cute he looks when he smiles like that at you. He holds you close, swaying slowly to the music and grinning like there’s no tomorrow.

“What’s so funny, Lee Minho?” You ask , raising your eyebrow.

He shakes his head, still grinning, “I just realised how rare it is to find a woman who would quite literally declare war for you.”

“Now, you’re exaggerating a little bit with the war thing but yes, that’s the essence of it.” You reply with a proud smile.

He laughs, as you put your hand on his cheek once again and press your lips softly to his. You’d missed this so much - not just kissing him but also this feeling of intimacy you share with him everytime you’re in a closed space, sharing the same air. You missed his teasing, his stupidly sweet laughter, the warmth of his embrace. You missed Lee Minho - your safe place, your best friend, your world.

And even after everything, you both know for sure that you would fight the world for Minho if need be, and he’d do the exact same thing for you. Every single time.

[uwuwriting]

Oikawa soulmate au shared pain

Request:  🌷 with oikawa please? - anonymous 

Haikyuu is such a beautiful fandom to write for and the whole show makes me feel nostalgic of my own volleyball days *sniff* *sniff*. I hope you like it. Love yaa.💖💖💖

P.S. GOD THIS IS LONG! I got carried away and stretched it out more than intended. Sorryyyyyyy.

warnings: some angst, eventual fluff 

It has always been the three of you. Iwaizumi, Oikawa and you. You went to the same middle school and later on high school, you and Oikawa lived in the same neighborhood and you even went on vacation together. You were inseparable. Attached to the hip. Being so close with someone has its benefits. You always have someone to rant to, a shoulder to cry on and they are always there to make you laugh. But this situation doesn’t lack its disadvantages. You get used to them, almost dependent of their presence and more often than not, even though they know you better than anyone, they tend to miss some signs.

That’s what had happened to you and those two. You had become dependent of one another. It was bound to happen at some point if you were being honest, you were expecting it. To say that you were in love with Tooru is an understatement. You two always had a special connection that you couldn’t place and he always confined in you and you in him. So developing feelings wasn’t a surprise. You have been stuck in this loop of pretend for about three years now, constantly wearing the mask of the caring best friend and not of the love struck fool that wanted the best for him. 

And then the pain started. Iwa was the first to notice how you would sometimes limp after one of their matches and being the good friend that he is he pointed it out to you. You would just brush it off because you had a whining Tooru being overly dramatic for his knee pain and you were the only one who could get him to walk out of the gym. There were times when you had to convince Iwa to carry him because he ‘fainted’ and wouldn’t get up. 

Iwa is an observant individual. He has seen how every time Tooru gets hurt you are in pain as well. It doesn’t take long to put two and two together. He rushed to you to share his discovery and of course you were ecstatic. Oikawa was your soulmate? The boy you were in love with already, is in reality your soulmate? The news had you in cloud 9. You were floating and you couldn’t wait to tell Tooru. To share this with him and start a new journey. Together but in a different sense this time. 

You planned to tell him the very next day, you couldn’t wait. The day dragged on and on with, making it hard for you to hold the big news in until the end of the school day. You had been kinda avoiding him as much as you could because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself and blurt it out. At last the final bell rung and you sprinted out of the class, hastily making your way to the gym. You heard Tooru’s voice behind the building and went to greet him, only to be met by the image of him kissing someone else. 

She was one of his fangirls, always present during his practices and matches and she even had went as far as to declare her ‘dips’ on Tooru a while back. Said you were in her way and that a lowly nobody wouldn’t get in the way of her dream boy. Looks like she succeeded after all. You could feel your heart break in your chest, a pain so sharp and intense you struggled to breath. That’s when you saw Tooru wince, grasping his shirt right over his heart a gasp leaving his lips as the pain became more and more unbearable. If he looked up he would see you. You knew that it would be awkward, you would be ruining the mood, but you wanted him to see you for some reason. A small revenge for the pain he was causing you right now. 

“Oikawa-channnn!!! Practice is starti- Oh...” And the Oscar goes to Y/N L/N for the role of smiling through the pain, you thought as soon as the words left your lips. He looked at you wide eyed, his mouth falling open and then snapping shut as he tried to find the words. You gave him an awkward smile, hoping to mask the tears that were forming in your eyes and backed away, turning around and leaving. 

Stupid stupid stupid! As if you were the girl he would fall for, that little voice screamed at you. Your chest was tightening again, knocking the breath out of your lungs a sob escaping your mouth as you clutched your heart trying to ease the pain. But you knew it wouldn’t work. Nothing could heal a heartbreak. Arriving home you went straight and took a shower, letting your tears run freely down your cheeks as severe sobs erupted through your chest. Walking to your room, you looked at your phone seeing some messages. 

[Iwaizumzum]

How did it go? Am I third wheeling you two now?

[Me]

You don’t have to worry about that. I didn’t tell him

[Iwaizumzum]

What!? Why?! Is it bc you realized he’s dumb? I swear he’s gonna treat you like a queen and if he doesn’t I can always hit some sense into him!!!!

[Me]

He was ...busy with someone else when I found him

Iwa thank you for the concern but I don’t feel like talking about it so can we plz forget about it?!

[Iwaizumzum]

HE WHAT!?!? SHITTYKAWA GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS WHEN I SEE HIM!

[Me]

IWA I SAID NO! 

And what do you mean when you see him? Don’t you have practice? 

[Iwaizumzum]

Yeah we do... but he wasn’t feeling well and left

Go to sleep it might help

And call me if you need anything

I’m down for a 3 am snack run if you need it

[Me]

Thank you Iwa ttyl

Turning off your phone you lay back down on your bed, fresh tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Grabbing your fluffy blanket - a gift from your boys on Christmas- you made yourself into a burrito and the crying session began again. You couldn’t see to stop, the pain in your chest coming back to hit you like a truck while your sobs were filling the room. Why did it have to hurt so much? Why did you have to fall in love with him? Why did you have to walk in on him? Why why why won’t this pain leave you alone? 

Lost in thought you didn’t hear the front door flying open or the pounding footsteps coming closer and closer to your room. Then your door opened and the person rushed to your bed, trying to untangle you from the blanket. 

“I’m not in the mood. Leave me alone.” You didn’t know who it was. Maybe your mom or your sibling. God forbid it was your father; Tooru will be as good as dead if it was your dad. They were persistent, whoever it was, wrestiling for the blanket and trying to find your head. Sitting up with a start you yanked the blanket off you head. “I said I’m not in the moo- oh...Hi Tooru.” 

He was in front of you, eyes frantic searching your face and cheeks a rosy red from the way here. Brown locks fell in his eyes and you had to hold yourself back from moving them out of the way. He had someone now, your actions had to be limited. 

“The same applies to you too. I’m not in the mood so if you please le-”

“Please stop crying. I’m- I’m sorry it’s my fault, please don’t cry.” his voice cracked at the words tears of his own were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. He lunged at you, wrapping his arms around you frame bringing you flush against him, your slight trembles vibrating into his body. “I was stupid and scared. I should have waited a little longer. I should have been more patient. Please please don’t cry I hate it when you cry! A-and I hate myself for being the reason.” His arms tightened around you not letting you pull away as you had tried when he started talking. 

You couldn’t hold your tears at this point and they were running freely down your cheeks, wetting his shirt. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, the pain intensifying fueled by both your own pain and Oikawa’s. His arms steadied you and you hated to admit that you like it. It felt so right. Two puzzle pieces falling into place. But he wasn’t yours. With all the strength you had you pushed him off. 

“I-I’m not g-going to b-break you t-two up.” he started shaking his head, opening his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “You chose her and you can’t just throw her to the side because I’m crying! I had my chance all this time and I blew it! E-end of story.” 

“It was nothing! I’m not with her she was just a- a distraction! Y/N please I want my soulmate by my side not some random girl!” he reached for you again this time grabbing your hands bringing your palms flat on his heart. “I want the girl I fell in love with.”

With that you broke down again but this time you were the one to latch on to him wrapping both arms and legs around him, locking him in place. Your crying didn’t stop but this time it was different. This time there was no excruciating pain in your chest. You felt lighter. 

 “I love you, I love you, I love you.” he repeated over and over again, holding you as tight as possible afraid that if he didn’t you would disappear and he would be back in that dark corner of his mind. 

He spent the night at your place, never fully taking his hands away from you. He called Iwa to apologize for missing practice and then he gave his undying attention to you, repeating those three words every chance he got. You were happy his was here. Happy that you finally have him. Happy the pain stopped. Happy that he’s the reason it stopped. 

I love you   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG TEAM AY:  @brattyquirks​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​

[certain-death-awaits]

The Fragments of Raglamar

The Ethergem was the gift from the Source. When it was broken it became the Ethershard, part of the 3 lesser crowns, and the Wizenstone.

Raglamar was a gift from the Void. When it was broken (which happened in the process of breaking the Ethergem) it became the Unforgiving Blade, and... we don’t know what else. I have a theory that the nail that gave Seth his power is a fragment of Raglamar. 

☽ It was remarkably difficult to destroy. It could only be destroyed by something of equal power. The pebble was created, I believe, from Source power.¹

☽ Graulas calls the nail a talisman of “tremendous dark power”, and later a “reservoir of dark power”. If Seth had touched it, it would have “taken possession” of him. Like the Unforgiving Blade, touching it with one’s flesh would be a mistake. The nail, like the Wizenstone, seems to have a will of its own. Anyways, Navarog was capable of retrieving it and brought it to the demon Kurisock. Graulas expresses his confusion as to why Navarog didn’t bring the nail to him, and says he doesn’t know what Navarog did with the nail while in Kurisock’s domain. What I think happened is that Kurisock became a servant of the nail in the same way that Humbuggle became servant of the Wizenstone.

☽ As a fragment of Raglamar, it’s location on the preserve would make sense. Raglamar was shattered when Nagi Luna used it to cut the Ethergem. We don’t know where this took place. [Living Mirage would make sense, though it’s possible she only ever lived there in the Quiet Box. ] But we do know that the action brought about the curse on the Nipsies. Where are the Nipsies? At Fablehaven. Where is Graulas’ cave, despite considering India and China more his home? Fablehaven. Where is Humbuggle most likely from? Also Fablehaven. When I asked Brandon Mull whether Humbuggle was the dwarf mentioned in the Caretaker’s Guide, he was vague, answering “I think so”. Fablehaven would make sense as a location for Graulas to retire to after he was injured by his attempt to wield the Wizenstone. 

Something else I wonder about is if shadow charmers typically have to get their power from a specific source, or if a demon simply bestows it. Is Seth a typical shadow charmer?

¹ The Fairy Queen tells Kendra and Bracken that what power she could draw from the Source remains limited. Limited, I’d assumed, from the actions of Graulas. The stone given to Kendra by the Fairy Queen in GotSP was created out of Source power. But she had to destroy her shrines to obtain said power- she can’t draw on it endlessly as Kendra seems to be able to. This would suggest that either Kendra is particularly powerful, or that the Fairy Queen has a major flaw. My intuition tells me it’s that it’s because the Fairy Queen is a unicorn, not a fairy. Risenmay says past Fairy Queens have been fairies, and insinuates that it should be that way for whatever reason. 

Why The Fairy King Let Ronodin Into The Fairy Realm

The Void and the Source self-balance. Damage to one automatically equals damage to the other. I don’t believe this extends to the Under and Fairy realms. Demons desecrate the Fairy Realm. Bracken had to be in the Fairy Realm to help her oust demons in order to secure their realm, or else there could be “an Age of Darkness that could consume leaf and stream”; the presence of impurity in the Fairy Realm doesn’t mean there is similar impurity in the Under Realm. The Fairy Realm and Under Realm must be kept in balance manually, they don’t self-regulate. It really is of utmost importance that nothing desecrates either Realm- Kendra’s presence in the Under Realm was seen by the Underking as so detrimental that she had to be gone at any cost, even uniting the crowns. This is because impurity in either realm would be an obstacle to the Source or the Void respectively. The Fairy King explains that his being in the Fairy Realm desecrates it and is thus an obstacle to the Source. He seems very concerned about the security threat that poses. 

A quote from the Fairy King. “I have tried to leave against her (the Fairy Queen’s) wishes, but she is too powerful here. Even without her crown. You must convince her to let me go.” Bracken only agreed to help convince his mother to let the King go if he failed against the demons and the situation with lack of connection with the Source became grim enough. So did the Fairy Queen have a change of heart? I doubt it. I believe it is possible that the Fairy King let Ronodin and the dragons in because- for what ever reason- he thought it would lead to him being allowed to leave. The other option is that he didn’t let Ronodin in, but that his presence simply created a weakness that Ronodin exploited. But I can’t conceive of that being the case- after all, he was able to create a bracelet that enabled Gwendolyn to act independently of Ronodin. If the Fairy King wasn’t plotting alongside Ronodin, why would he have the power to offer Gwendolyn immunity from allegiance to Ronodin? Another reason I don’t think this is possible is that if Ronodin and the Fairy King weren’t colluding, why would Ronodin let the Fairy King leave? The Fairy King must have still believed that leaving the Fairy Realm would strengthen their connection with the Source, or he would have remained there and helped the unicorns fight against Ronodin.

Remember, it was the Fairy King’s idea to risk the crown to send Kendra into the Under Realm to retrieve Bracken, Seth, and the Sunset Pearl. What I don’t understand, is why the Fairy King would prioritise his love for Bracken & his faith in Kendra over the safety of the Fairy Realm. The Fairy King was willing to risk the safety of the Fairy Realm by colluding with Ronodin all so that he could gain a chance at freedom. Wouldn’t the entry of Ronodin (and his comrades the dragons, few demons, and few wizards) create a larger security risk than the simple presence of the Fairy King? Did he simply suffer a massive lapse in judgement? Or did he think that his absence would not only purify the Fairy Realm, but also heal the connection with the Source? Is it possible that he hoped that having the Fairy Queen’s crown out of the realm would enable him to escape? He acted like he’d attempted to leave. 

The Goals of the Singing Sisters

The more I think about it, the more confused I get. I am convinced that the Singing Sisters mean to re-make the Ethergem. What I don’t know is why- do they simply wish to bring balance between light and darkness? Or do they mean to undo the curses on those involved with the creation of the three lesser crowns? If Nagi Luna were still alive, I would understand that the Sisters meant to restore power to their sponsor. Maybe, for whatever reason, they believe they can effectively wield it.

Seth’s task seems all the more difficult when one considers that though the Wizenstone was destroyed, its power probably wasn’t banished from existence, just fractured again. I believe this is so because the Unforgiving Blade remains whole- were it banished from existence, the action would likewise unmake the Unforgiving Blade. And of course the pieces are still important.

[youarejesting]

Limited Edition. Once More

[FULL MASTERLIST] [Limited Edition Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: All audiences Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Words: 1k

Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

You arrived in Seoul and escorted through the airport to a luxury taxi which took you to the BigHit building. Walking through the building behind a man in a suit, you wondered if this was what you wanted? If this was where you truly belonged?

There was only one way to find out and you were going to try your best to create a new life here. One that you were proud of and felt you were really getting the most out of it. There were so many things you had never experienced and you hoped you could check off your bucket list one item at a time. 

Feeling like everything was falling into place, there was a nervous feeling within you that stemmed from the fact you were going to see them again. But they weren’t the tiny boys you had looked after, no, this was the real life global group/band/idols. Well, however they preferred to be referred to they were famous, billionaires even and then there was you.

You were a kind person, and a hard worker and that was all you could offer them. The idea that you could see them and hang out was obviously wishful thinking. That was the most nerve racking part that you would get there and they would be polite but too busy to actually hang out.

But that was your job, to just hang out with them, and assist their manager with the boys' moods. So you were going to give it all you got. Giving them the benefit of the doubt that this would all work out, there was no real point of getting anxious before you even knew the situation.

“This will be your office” The man guiding you on your tour through the building gestured to the room.

“It attaches to mine and please see me if you need anything?” Sejin grinned walking over and giving a handshake bowing his head. You repeated the action both your hands cupping his trying to seem eager and polite.

After shaking hands with Sejin, he walked you around your desk explaining many different aspects of the job. The job seemed quite easy and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited. 

After seeing the schedule lined up you were excited to see the boys were free for a week where they would be going to shoot a show called BTS in the Soop. Sejin explained that you would be accompanying them, “It is work but it is a week away for them to be free and explore their hobbies and bond so you are quite welcome to play alongside them.”

“That seems exciting,” You smiled turning the page to see a leaflet with instructions and requests for items. “What is this page for?”

“Mister Bang said to get anything you wanted for the trip as you will be a big part of the whole week” Sejin took the page, “Some of the boys requested canvas’ and computer games, so do you have anything in mind?”

“I always wanted to build a miniature house, learn some korean recipes, I want to bake and decorate a wedding cake, and even try my hand at making a song.” You breathed writing a few things down and handed it back for them to go source some of the items ready for packing. 

“Would you like to see the boys’ they have been playing in one of the studio’s they have been doing some weird dance projects,” Sejin said with a sly grin. You nodded looking around as you were guided to a small studio where you heard music and giggling. “You can go in, they told me to bring you here when you arrived”

With no further words, he left you to your own devices in front of the door to the studio. Where you contemplated for a moment on whether or not to turn the handle. After a brief moment of hesitation, you took a deep breath grounding yourself before stepping through the threshold.

The scene before you was of seven tiny young men running around in front of the camera, you couldn’t help but giggle as you saw Namjoon fall flat on his face after his foot got tangled in a chord.

You giggled and took a step into the studio where they were recording remakes of their music videos and dances. The group of tiny Bangtan members ran over cheering and raising their hands.

“Why are you so small again?” you asked, concerned that someone had tried to sabotage them once more and they laughed.

“We were playing and making a music video as Tiny Tan” you took a deep breath trying to process their reasoning behind the situation that was a replica of their past unfortunate predicament.

“So let me get this straight,” You asked, walking over to the machine situated on the back wall, “I went to all that trouble to save you, and you just turn yourself back into chibi figurines?”

“Uh… no…” Jimin grinned his voice getting higher in pitch as he tried to lie. “Ok yes, but it isn’t unfortunate anymore, we decided to make an unfortunate situation into a rather fortunate and beneficial situation for us.”

You hadn’t noticed that you had walked further and further back until you were under the machine and Jungkook had climbed up onto the desk and hit the button. In a blinding light you felt a weird pressing feeling like you were being squished and then it was over.

When your eyes finally opened, your perspective had changed. You seemed much lower to the ground and when you looked at the boys you realized you too had been resized.

“Isn’t this fun, now we can play.” Hoseok shouted, running you around the room with you in tow.

“I am scared what if we are stuck like this?”

“Well then you will learn to adjust” Namjoon patted your back reassuringly.

“I mean we all learnt how to live small you can too” Yoongi yawned from his spot lying on an abandoned hoodie.

“I mean it wouldn’t be the worst, imagine how much you would save on food consumption.” The thought ran through your head for a moment before Seokjin and Yoongi grabbed your hands and pulled you into the camera's view. Where you all began playing and dancing to their music.

Tags: @victory0461​​​ @gqmf-bangtanmama​​ @simplymemyself​​

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[itsunclebucky]

From Out of Nowhere [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Bucky helps you move into your new apartment and stays a couple of nights, realizing you love his company more than you thought. Prompt: Friends to lovers AU for @simsadventures​ 1k writing challenge! Thank you, my love, for having me back!!!

Warning(s): Slow Burn, fluff, mutual pining, implied smut near the end (with spooning but nothing really explicit)

Word Count: 2,386

A/N: I just want to apologize for any grammar mistakes! English isn't my first language and I did use a thesaurus but I still might have used words incorrectly and I'm sorry about that! I was also watching the witcher as I wrote this :) feedback is greatly appreciated! Please don't repost my work to any other site (Wattpad, ao3, etc) without permission, reblogs are greatly appreciated though! I'm also really sorry for the slow burn but I wanted to include everything and not rush it.

Masterlist

Your ringtone resounded out into the empty room as you finished taping up the last box of your possessions and piling it on top of the others. You walked over to the windowsill where your phone was perched and smiled down at the name of the person calling you.

"Hey, Buck!" Your voice echoed around the once loved - now hollow bedroom.

"Hey Y/N! I'm outside and I'll be up in a sec." It was early morning and by the sound of his hoarse voice, Bucky had not long woken up.

"Great! Thanks for this Buck!" You sigh as you end the call, looking out into the city for the last time. You would miss this cozy apartment, it's been your home for the past six years but now the time has come for a brand new fresh start, a new chapter in your life. You could no longer afford the apartment since your landlord raised your rent considerably higher and your wages wouldn't even cover half of the rent let alone any bills that needed to be paid, it was the most expensive part of Brooklyn. And Bucky notified you that his elderly landlady was looking for a new tenant to occupy an apartment three floors above his apartment for a fraction of the rent your landlord wanted, she was more flexible and helpful, and besides being closer to your best friend, it was also closer to your work and in a much safer neighborhood.

And Bucky had insisted to come and help you move your things out, and you couldn't be any more appreciative because some of your furniture was really heavy and you felt bad for overloading some boxes which threatened to break your bones in your back and arms if you carried them far enough.

"Y/N?" Bucky's deep voice calls out as he enters the apartment. It's bittersweet for him too, he used to love coming here and having your weekly movie nights on the L-shaped corner couch with your fuzzy cream blankets. But he is more happy to have you living in the same apartment building as him, it's easier for him to protect you, not that you needed protection, Bucky knew you were independent and capable of dealing with things on your own but he wanted to keep you close, you were one of his best friends and he's never had someone as close to him besides Steve before.

"In here!" You haul the box out into the front room and smile when you see Bucky in his blue Henley, dark jeans and a pair of sneakers (you never thought you would see the day he would wear something different than his usual combat boots), his hair was cut shorter and he looked so clean and perfect. You were used to Bucky with long hair, but since he cut it a couple of months ago, you kept telling him how much you loved him with shorter hair, telling him "it really suits you, Buck!" And he has taken your compliment personally because he's kept up with his short hair.

"Doll?" Your eyes fly up to his face, he was smirking and raised an eyebrow at you and you blush, you didn't realize you were staring at him.

"Huh?" You clear your throat and awkwardly look around the room.

"I asked if you wanted me to start moving your stuff out? The truck is downstairs."

"Yea-yes. That would be great." You smile, nodding your head for no particular reason as you find yourself getting lost in his bright blue eyes. ☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•° It only took you a couple of hours to move everything from the truck into your new apartment and by the time 6pm arrived, half of the boxes were already unpacked and your ornaments were placed out neatly around your new living room, your L-shaped couch positioned with your familiar rug in the middle of the room, it was already starting to feel and look like home. And while you were busy hanging your curtains, Bucky had gone out to grab some food for the two of you, deciding to take the rest of the evening off packing and just sit and watch a movie to relax before bed.

"Honey, I'm home!" Bucky chuckled walking through the door. You finished the gather of your curtains and smiled.

"Great!" You sighed as you welcomed the comfy cushions of your couch behind you as you plopped down with a bounce, crisscrossing your aching legs under you as Bucky plated the food.

"Chicken for you." He said holding the plate of chicken noodles in front of you and a soda.

"Thanks, Buck! For everything." You smiled at him as he sat down beside you, digging into his own noodles, he nodded in return and flicked the TV on, playing the DVD you left in from a few nights ago.

You and Bucky ate in silence, occasionally laughing at the TV. Over the years you have had so many movie nights with Bucky, and you weren't sure if it was because of the new apartment, but you didn't want Bucky to leave, you didn't want to be alone. Sitting next to Bucky right now felt so right in so many different ways. But Bucky was your best friend, and you felt conflicted about your feelings. You were also sure he saw you as nothing more than a friend. Your thoughts were all over the place and you nibbled on your bottom lip.

The action didn't go unnoticed by Bucky, who was watching you from his peripheral. He knew whenever you bit your lip it was because of anxiety or panic attacks. For now, he stayed quiet, allowing you to gather your thoughts. ☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•°☆•° Bucky stayed with you until the end of the movie. You had somehow managed to push your weird thoughts to the back of your mind and enjoy his company.

He stretched and yawned, looking at his watch.

"Wow, it's almost midnight. I better be goin'" he says tiredly, getting up to leave.

"Thank you for everything today Buck." You stand up with him and pull him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest and fisting his shirt around his back.

Bucky chuckles and his chest vibrates against your face as he holds you.

"You already thanked me doll. Got nothin' to thank me for, s'what friends are for." He rubs your back comfortingly and tries to pull away, you only hold him tighter.

"Please stay." You whisper, refusing to loosen your grip on his shirt.

"Doll, let me look at ya." He pushes your body away slightly and his heart sinks down to his stomach as he looks at the stray tears racing each other down your cheeks. "What's wrong?" He asks, concern laced in his voice. It was rare for you to show Bucky this side of you.

"I just-" you sigh and take a breath. "I feel so selfish but I don't want you to go... I don't want to be alone here." Your bottom lip trembles uncontrollably and Bucky nods, pulling you impossibly close to him.

"Ok doll, shh shh it's okay. I'm not goin' anywhere. I'll stay for a couple o' days ok?" He holds your chin between his fingers and you nod happily.

And now that you knew Bucky was staying, you felt so much better. You were used to living alone so why this was any different you didn't understand.

Was it because you started to feel something in the pit of your stomach for your best friend? You have never felt this way before, even when you were around when Bucky was in relationships with other girls, you didn't feel jealous. But now just the thought of it sent a pang of pain to your chest. When did this happen?

For Bucky, it was a different story.

Bucky has been in love with you for a long time, he has just kept his feelings buried because of your friendship at stake. If things didn't go his way and you didn't feel the same way, he could handle the rejection but losing you was not worth it in his eyes.

Instead, he stood by as you tried to go on dates, most failed and some guys acted like complete jerks towards you which he strongly disliked but could do nothing about when he really wanted to dislodge their testicles.

And he knew staying with you would be difficult, because with you he always felt at home, it felt so natural. But seeing you so upset he didn't want to leave you. He wouldn't leave you. His ma taught him manners and he was a better man than most these days.

He hated how sexist the men had become. Even now he knows women deserve just as much respect and attention as they did when he was an 18-year-old taking his dames out on dates every weekend. And mention dick pics to Bucky? He was disgusted. And it has never interested him, even if one of his recent ex-girlfriends tried to push him to send her a sexy photo of himself, he declined as kindly as he could.

After brushing your teeth, you go back to your bedroom and stop in your tracks. Bucky is wearing a black T-shirt and his boxers as he pulls the covers back. He notices your reaction and panics.

"Is this ok?" He asks timidly.

You grin and walk over to the free side of the bed. "Of course it is." You reply, stripping down to your tank top and shorts, climbing under the duvet the same time as Bucky.

You roll on your side and face him, making the outline of his features in the darkness you're shrouded in.

"You ok doll?" Bucky asks quietly, stretching an arm out and moving some hair from your face and you shiver from his soft touch.

"I am." You whisper back, reaching out to touch his prickled cheek. Drawing patterns and you feel his cheeks lift in a smile, his dimples under your fingertips. You move your hand down above his heart, his heartbeat lulls you into a deep sleep.

The sun beaming through the partly opened curtains wakes you up and you feel totally refreshed. The best night's sleep you have had in a long, long time. It takes you a few seconds to remember where you are and why there is heavy breathing behind you.

You're facing away from Bucky, and he has his arm wrapped around your belly with your back pressed into his chest, his face buried in your hair, and something digging into your backside and you realize he's spooning you, quite intimately. It only makes your heart beat faster, now this is something you could get used to.

You shift your butt slightly, grinding your backside into his wood and a loud groan erupts from behind you. It encourages you to do it again, only harder. His hand grips your waist tightly to stop your movements.

"Doll!" He groans, thinking you're just asleep and unaware of what is happening but he hears your cheeky giggles.

"Good mornin' doll." Bucky slurs from tiredness, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your head and moving his lower body away from you, already missing his closeness.

"Good mornin' Buck." You turn to face him and lay on his chest, tucking your head under his chin and intertwining your legs with his.

The silence in the room is comforting, the birds are singing their sweet tunes outside and inside it's just the sounds of two hearts beating in sync.

"What do you wanna do today?" You ask in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet. You draw an invisible pattern with your finger over his heart.

When Bucky doesn't answer, you assume he's fallen back asleep until you tilt your head up and see he's already looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Buck?"

Bucky lowers his lips to yours and you reciprocate the kiss by tilting your head to the side to kiss him deeper. This was what you wanted for so long, and Bucky has dreamed of this moment for years. He's scared he's going to wake up soon.

The kiss becomes heated and you straddle his waist, grounding yourself against him. He elicits a moan as his hands fly to your waist, his fingertips burying themselves into your skin.

"Doll.." he breathes heavily. "Do you want this? Do you want me? Because we can pretend this never happened..." he speaks lowly, hoping the latter doesn't happen.

"I want this Buck. I want you, I have for a long time." You smile down at him, pressing the palm of your hands on the pillow beside his head.

"Will you be my girl?" His tongue darts out to lick his suddenly dry lips.

"I would want nothing more than to be yours." A growl elicits from his throat at your choice of words, and clothes are flying off everywhere.

Your first official morning as a new couple is spent between the once clean but now sweat-soaked bed sheets as the two of you embark on a beautiful adventure together as boyfriend and girlfriend, which Bucky hopes one day you will walk to him down an aisle and mother his children.

And you hoped that one day this beautiful specimen of a man became your husband and fathered your children you desperately wanted in the future.

Taglist: @leosandbuckysgirl​ @jobean12-blog​ And wanted to thank a few people (sorry if I bother you!!): @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @book-dragon-13​ @criminal-cookies​ @valkyriesryde​ @mushyjellybeans​ @emmandhercoffecrisp​ @captainchrisstan​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @moonbeambucky​ @searchingforbucky​ @sebbbystaaan​ @buckythewhitewolfx​ @your-highnessmarvel​

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Welcome back folks. Read the innocence dying inside me as I accept that this show eats my expectations for lunch and leaves me like it's going to buy milk.

As a side note from what I said in my first review, here’s an interesting article. Apparently I was clowning because the Gobi desert scene was filmed (probably? idk) with the tech from the Mandalorian. I think the studios were the same. Oh well. https://www.atlasofwonders.com/2021/06/loki-filming-locations.html

Episode 4: THE NEXUS EVENT

Pre-title scene

The new perspective of Asgard is incredible.

Oh baby Sylvie, what did they do to you. Also, RAVONNA??

The TVA through a child’s eyes is heartbreaking. The mixed use of shots that were familiar (the feet walking into the TVA) and new (the TVA logo on the floor) convey how though routine, this is an alien experience for Sylvie.

She too wants to help the man being dragged in. Maybe Sylvie was a better person than Loki, the TVA taking her away was what changed it.

We don’t see Casey, but iIt’s the same ‘sign here’ guy. The changing perspective and music really alters the mood created, contrasting the whimsical procedure we followed in episode one.

She hadn’t even said much in her life. They knew how to influence the audience’s emotions, that's for sure. Props to the actress, I felt genuine concern for her before I remembered that she’s acting.

TVA

Ravonna probably underestimated Sylvie as a Loki, a mistake that cost her greatly.

The golden doors.

Ravonna looks tense and a bit fearful.

Scattered throughout the episode are eyes watching. George Orwell’s 1984, anyone?

Big Brother is watching.

Mobius! He’s a good friend to Ravonna, but there’s a power imbalance.

Ravonna is shaken. Her past failure is haunting her.

Someone edit the “What? How?” into “Wow.” It’ll be a service.

Lamentis - 1

Loki’s apology and Sylvie reflecting on her childhood are the conclusion to the previous episode. Faced with death, Loki realises that her goals were hindered by his actions. His apology is the first time he acknowledges he had something to do with it. Sylvie’s offering her emotional vulnerability in the form of memories. Her mind and experiences are her most prized possession because they’re all she has of the person who she was as Loki, her childhood and what she was supposed to be. Her glorious purpose, what really makes a Loki a ‘Loki’ was her life.

THEY TRUST EACH OTHER. THIS WAS WHAT CAUSED THE NEXUS EVENT.

C H A R A C T E R D E V E L O P M E N T.

Ravonna pointed out that Loki will always be a “lying scourge” but they went against this. In any timeline, this could cause a nexus event. They found a middle ground.

“That should be setting off alarms if someone steps on the wrong leaf.” I had a whole idea about entropy and the timeline being an isolated system but I struggled to define an isolated system, and thus I couldn’t use the whole irreversible process causing entropy to grow causing a br- if you have a clue of what I’m going on about, or want to know more, I’ll explain my thoughts. I can understand why this isn’t scientifically accurate and I’m no physicist.

The unbranched timeline means all the things that were speculated - Wanda’s kids, what happened on Saakar, all of it - is gone.

“Any news on C - 20?”I called it! B-15 is having doubts! Her subtle unease building up throughout the ep is perfect!

Most settlements have a street design that can be from space. Sharru doesn’t.

“No. We may lose... ...you’re amazing!” Damn it literally took the end of a world for Loki to change as a person.

“Their smiles. If that isn’t people accepting their deaths I don’t know what is. Man, I just want both of them to be happy.

Please don’t let that be the love theme, it’s so pretty.

The music fading into the TVA theme as they get separated is so sad.

Time Theater 25

Back to square one in terms of trust with these two, but now they have history and hurt feelings too!

Oh Mobius.

Cycles are a part of who Loki is within Norse mythology (from what I know, correct me if I’m wrong). This scene is conflict.

Loki needs both Mobius and Sylvie to incite change. One can empathise whilst the other believes in him.

Mobius believes in Loki like no one else in the TVA. He treats him like an individual, they developed a bond in episode 2, so his disappointment and anger were genuine. This is reflected in their dialogue.

Even when Loki was going through all the Feels in ep 1, he didn’t shout at Mobius. It makes it more heartbreaking when Mobius laughs and dismisses him after the “TVA is lying to you” thing. His laugh was so bitter, it’s like his belief that Loki would be the variant to prove that variants were individuals had been shattered. What Mobius doesn’t realise is that Loki was genuinely trying to warn him. The trust between them was fragile but Mobius needed to come to his own conclusions before he could see that Loki had broken out of the mold the Time Keepers set for him.

“Just kind of an asshole and a bad friend.” Y’all, Mobius doesn’t rise to Loki’s baits. He’s so hurt.

I can’t be the only one that thought Loki was going to be brainwashed when they saw the red door. Turns out it’s just a time cell.

I love Mobius but he makes me feel so conflicted. Oh shit, he’s my problematic fave.

Watching Loki get his ass handed to him by Lady Sif shouldn’t be this funny.

This particular memory reflects what Mobius will talk about later, Loki being abandon by the people around him.

Putting Loki through a memory that was physically and emotionally painful was nasty. If you hear something horrible, over and over especially from a friend it would take a toll on your self-perception. Mobius was hurt by Loki leaving him, he’s getting revenge whilst doing his job and getting into Loki’s head.

Ravonna’s office

Ravonna has hang ups from failing with Sylvie. Who she is and what she knows is going to be interesting.

Heck I just realised are Mobius’ lapels not real? They look fake.

I wonder whether the “mastermind” thing was foreshadowing the next ep.

Am I the only one who thinks this isn’t the first Loki Mobius has dealt with? Could that mean there’s a reunion next ep?!

“Variant pet.” There’s a culture of dehumanising variants within the TVA.

The cuts showing both B-15 and Mobius’ faces reminds me of ep 1, but now there’s a new angle to things. B-15 certainly sees things differently.

Time Theatre 25

Lady Sif would kill with short hair. Or long hair. It’s Lady Sif, she’s a badass.

Loki’s exhale reminds me of how he tenses before a fight.

Notable things about this scene:

Heavy use of metaphors to trade jabs.

The lights are shifting in a consistent pattern, scanning the room almost.

Shots are constantly moving and cutting.

Loki’s speech pattern changes when he’s lying. Nice touch there.

When they start arguing in earnest, the shots are close ups of their faces, not circling around each other.

Loki was at first willing to talk to Mobius if he was treated with respect, the way they engaged in episode 2. He also wants to trust that Mobius won’t kill him. Mobius dismisses him (rightly so, his trust is gone) and Loki’s pride about ‘not working for anyone’ gets in the way rather than listening to each other. Loki’s behaviour is cyclic and his lying about Sylvie affirms Mobius’s understanding that Loki won’t (or maybe can’t) change. I wouldn’t be too surprised if Mobius is a Loki, the man’s uncannily good at reading him. He deduces that Loki and Sylvie have a bond and unsettles Loki to get answers out of him, because he knows that’s the only way he can force Loki to reveal his cards. He definitely wasn’t expecting Loki’s earlier admission to be the truth. What Mobius did was not right, but it sure was effective.

“No. Not partners.” I believe this. They had an understanding, but their goals differ. Maybe just give Sylvie her own show.

“Guess you don’t do partners.” MOBIUS WHY ARE YOU SO BUTT-HURT? Probably to make Loki feel bad ik, but it’s still funny to think Lightning McQueen is salty.

That memory really hurt Loki. He stuttered.

Loki fixates on Sylvie rather than his own freedom. This was the cue to Mobius to start interrogating.

Bruh, the feeling they were experiencing better be friendship.

This made me uncomfortable because I was so sure we weren’t gonna get a romantic subplot that I related the characters to my actual family relationships. Marvel. Why?

The music combined with Mobius’ subtle shift in demeanor from irritated to mockery was very unsettling to me. I never realised how good an actor Owen Wilson was.

“Our interests are aligned.” Once Mobius tells him the truth, Loki does the same. I really hope this is the extent of their relationship. Just let them recognise one another as equals. Please Marvel.

Mobius’ hands twitching, the slight swallow. Yeesh, he certainly doesn’t think Loki’s lying, but he’s not about to accept it.

Loki’s head shake is sad. He knows he can’t convince Mobius.

“That I can respect. I mean the lies you tell yourself.” This was the best writing imo. Loki doesn’t make any final attempts to connive his way out of the situation because telling the truth to someone he’d trusted had failed. He willingly walks into the Time Cell.

Time Theater 47

B-15 being unable to support herself, having to rely on the structures around her to stay upright. This woman deserves so much y’all.

WE NEED HER NAME MARVEL.

You better appreciate her beyond shipping her with Sylvie or istg.

The music is so mournful. It just emphasises how much everything changing is going to hurt not only the main characters. Lives change because of the TVA and the events of this episode, it’s not overlooked by the writing or music.

The poster and the 1984 parallels. Exquisite!

Sylvie not sitting straight made me snort.

Ravonna Renslayer’s office

More Theremin music! This time I’m pretty sure it’s Carnival of the Animals, XIII. Le Cygne (the Swan) : Le carnaval des animaux: No. 12, Le cygne (arr. For theremin and piano) by Clara Rockmore.

Fun fact! Clara Rockmore influenced theremin music and the instrument and was a virtuoso of the instrument. Give her a google, it’s worth it. Also look up Leon Theremin, he was (among other things) a Soviet spy. There’s a great Wiki spiral for anyone there.

Mobius was probably being lined up for a high position in the TVA. Damn.

TemPads are personal, or have different levels of clearance.

Mobius didn’t stop interrogating Ravonna throughout that scene. He knew that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.

Sleight of hand wasn’t shown how Loki and Sylvie do it, they didn’t use misdirection.

Ravonna knows something is up with Mobius. Maybe he hasn’t been around for long if this is his ‘career case’.

The pacing becomes really fast like in the end of episode 2 as conflicts get resolved. Buckle up comrades.

2050 Roxxcart Disaster

I don’t have much to add, it’s a powerful scene.

They use close ups whenever a truth bombshell is dropped.

The music varies considerably between these scenes, each one has a different tone.

“We’re the same.” With what she knows of B-15, Sylvie knew not to be smug when delivering the news about B-15’s life.

B-15 crying in the rain hurts.

“I looked happy.”

TVA archives, Time Cell, Time Theater 25

The floor opposite Mobius is FE3, above it is 3FG.

Oh Mobius.

C-20 deserved better, I'd love to see her later in the series.

The music goes from mournful to harsh and we’re left in silence when it cuts to the Time Cell.

“You told me to shut up.” Loki can be salty sometimes.

“Do you really think you deserve to be alone?” Mobius is rattled, he wants to unsettle Loki.

The music starts to build somewhere between “...your connection... “ and Loki saying “‘WE?’”

The faint tinkling reminds me of the Avatar (blue people) score.

“How about the word of a friend?” This is Loki’s olive branch. When he admits Loki was right, their trust is tentatively reinstated.

The music is finally back to that chaotic theme we know. I think it’s the TVA’s theme.

“You can be whoever, whatever you wanna be, even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different.” Mobius corrects what he says in the first ep.

They are friends y’all I’m so sad.

Mobius can lie through his teeth like it’s nobody’s business.

Pruning hurts, Mobius’ face is in agony.

Loki’s tears. GIVE THEM ALL JETSKIS.

Ravonna takes a moment to compose herself.

Time Keepers (the final smackdown)

Why are the last 10 minutes always so insane?

Loki’s eyes only show hurt. I’ll leave.

Ravonna’s so sharp, she instantly catches Sylvie’s wet hair.

All of our expectations from the trailers always get yeeted out of a window because the scenes are never really what we think they are. I get that that should be expected but it’s refreshing that the writing is never what we think it is.

Did anyone else notice the egg timer/infinity sign murals on one of the hallways to the left of Sylvie?

Ravonna is so cold (and yet I’d simp for her).

The M.C. Escher staircases I see you set designers/CGI folks.

B-15 just gets knocked out. They better not kill her for no reason or I riot.

I’m pretty sure that Sylvie ripped off one of Ravonna’s TVA badges (or buttons) when she fought her.

Sylvie’s the better fighter, she’s had to use it more often though.

The elevator doors stay open.

It would be so funny if we get an elevator scene where Sylvie is just dragging Ravonna somewhere.

They really led us on with the Time Keepers, particularly the middle one. I was somewhat convinced there’d be something more to it. I’m interested to see where it goes.

Ep 4 review

I really don’t have much to add with these last two episodes. I’ve definitely come to appreciate that no matter whether you liked the writing of the show or not, it’s never what you expect. Is that a good thing? I guess that that remains to be seen. Nonetheless, I appreciate how much effort went into this series. It’s been a fun romp, I’ll be back with my reviews of the final episodes. I’ll also stop posting Loki content to my blog because the Gods know that my followers don’t read this lol.

I’m just going to survive until the season is over and then hopefully keep my sanity together until the next Marvel content or at least Dr. Strange.

Here's the link to my episode 3 review.

Thank you all for being here, you're wonderful my loves.

[solitaire-dreams]

Cycles and Scales: An analysis of Hananene’s Progression Pt 1

Because tumblr seemed to hate over 10 pictures in one text post. Wth?!

Cycles and Scales Part 2 <--

Hello, fellow shippers! I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for the support on my other meta discussing the true chance of a Hananene kiss.

The attention on that post has encouraged me to complete this analysis (since I mentioned I planned to write a larger post, and I don’t want to fall flat on a written statement dozens have seen. Anxiety~)

Regardless, I still really enjoyed writing my analysis to give my two cents on the progression of Hanako and Nene’s relationship, and feel free to add your interpretations after reading.

This post will cover the first two topics (which will be explained below), since...

The rest of the text will be under the cut since it includes SPOILERS for...let’s say the latest manga chapter to be safe.

Thus, let us pull back the curtain and begin.

For the sake of organization, I will describe how this post is going to be divided. There are four main topics to be discussed. First, is the general cycle I have witnessed in terms of Hananene moments. Second, will be a...progression bar?? Timeline?? Basically topic 2 will discuss how Hanako’s feelings towards Nene have progressed in phases from “only friends” to “sh*t I’m in love”. Topic 3 is the inverse discussing the progression of Yashiro’s feelings. Finally, I plan to conclude with some brief thoughts on the next steps in their relationship.

Unfortunately, as mentioned before, the secret guidelines of tumblr text posts deemed the original analysis too long. Thus, this post only discusses topics 1 & 2.

So, without further ado, let’s begin.

1: The Hananene Whirlpool (TM of Solitaire)

Alright, so full discretion, I’m probably not the first person to notice this pattern, but I am the first person I know to properly summarize it.

So what is the Hananene Whirlpool?

And what’s a whirlpool doing here??

I chose this term over cycle because cycles can remain in roughly the same place when going back to a point. However, Hananene’s relationship doesn’t work like that. Each cycle pulls them deeper and deeper into their feelings, much like a whirlpool that sucks any objects trapped in it closer to the centre.

Here’s an artist rendition of the phenomena:

And now the artist’s statement:

As the visual attempts to depict, there are six stages in this whirlpool of ever increasing feelings.

1) Yashiro acquires a (pretty valid tbh) concern about the events or revelations of a trip into a boundary.

2) This is the one step that varies, but it accomplishes the same end purpose. Either Yashiro will approach Hanako about her new concern or Hanako will check in on Yashiro since she’s been avoiding him (’cause of the aforementioned concern). Both methods get Hanako and Yashiro in the same place to chat.

3) Once together, Yashiro brings up that new concern that has been weighing on or bothering her...She’s emotionally troubled, okay. This is important! Because...

4) Hanako makes himself more vulnerable in order to boost Yashiro’s mood.

5) This causes a romantic atmosphere since Hanako has temporarily taken off the mask he hides behind, allowing deeper feelings to bleed through and Yashiro to witness this.

6) So, Hanako has to murder the mood in cold blood. Love letter letdowns, Christmas tree hair in summer, and being shoved off a fricking cloud. Anything to try and restore the distance between them.

It somewhat works...But it’s an undeniable fact that the two are getting closer. And I can prove it with the next topics!

2: Hanako’s Feelings ~ A Timeline

For these timelines, there are three major stages that classify their feelings towards the other.

“Only Friends”

“Highschool Crush”

“Oh scales I’m in love”

While one might expect Hanako’s feelings to be the most difficult to determine and thus more interesting, it is quite the opposite.

If you notice, we rarely ever get any sort of internal monologue from our ghost boy. I can’t think of one canon scenario where this happened (I could be mistaken). Therefore, the feelings Hanako holds towards Yashiro are represented by actions over words. And the body cannot lie as easily as the mind, making his true feelings easier to figure out.

Disclaimer: I will not be counting the past Amanes in this timeline. There has been no canon evidence that he consciously remembers Yashiro’s time travel shenanigans, and so the impact of those events on his feelings remain unclear.

With that out of the way, let me bring up a surprising take:

Hanako only started having a crush on Yashiro towards the end of chapter 1.

It’s tempting to believe that Hanako already liked Yashiro before or not long after their first meeting due to this line:

However, I would like to bring up two points. First, this line doesn’t gain a super romantic context until he connects it to himself in particular. 

Secondly, I don’t know about you, but I had friends who would say things like “Anybody would do for you, huh?” to tease them or give them a reality check. It’s not an inherently shippy phrase until Hanako makes it such.

Though, this implies that his feelings have changed throughout the chapter. When exactly? I’d argue it’s...right...here...

A running trend that occurs before Hanako allows himself to get closer to Yashiro tends to be her being upset...often because of our No 7.

Guilt.

It’s a core part of Hanako’s character. Whatever happened that led to Tsukasa’s death clearly weighs on him, despite evidence of being abused and mistreated--a situation that could cause many to snap.

He is terrified and regretful for how he has and can hurt others, and this is a key reason why he wears his more lighthearted mask. So, when he sees a girl that he clearly respects by this point and knows has less than a year to live be genuinely heartbroken about what he did...it was bound to trigger his overwhelming guilt. Then, the response of attempting amends for his actions leads him to try and stop and/or check in on her. Only to see she didn’t give her Senpai the scale. Since she learned the error of her ways. Another amendable attribute that attracts enough attention for assistant assignment.

Plus, a highschool crush.

It’s honestly more simple to tell that he’s started to crush on her after this point from his increasingly flirty behaviour.

Pinning her against a wall, “You have me,”, that “magic spell”...

An important thing to note is that his actions are...overly flirty...in a way that makes you question their sincerity. Capitalizing on his previously established trait of being a jokester, he’s able to play off these actions as teasing. Nothing serious. Probably because he already understands a longterm relationship between the two would be nearly unobtainable. At least, he’s able squeeze out the most romantic moments he can without worrying about a real relationship.

Yashiro has made it extremely clear she’s not his type,

So he’ll just reject him right?

This is where we cross over into L-O-V-E territory dear readers.

You can probably guess what scene I’ll cite as the change, but the seeds of the shift are planted all the way back in chapter 5.

The Misaki Stairs is the first point of the story in which Yashiro is truly in danger, subject to the extreme power and control Mysteries hold over their domain. At that moment, Hanako was powerless and there was a decent chance he couldn’t reach Yashiro in time. He did--thankfully--but the whole experience noticeably rattled him. To the point where he does this: 

Decidedly more suggestive than his previous actions and containing a protection spell both contribute to the idea that Yashiro’s close calls at the Misaki Stairs were what spurred him to do this.

Blah, blah, blah. I think we all remember what happens after this, Hanako digging his own grave after going a step too far.

He doesn’t realize this mistake right after the kiss though, with his comment about the confession tree keeping up his trend of flirty behaviour.

It is only at the following moment in Chapter 8 does the realization strike him and the true transformation begins. 

Yashiro is upset because of him (dejavu) Because she was expecting, was wanting, an actual confession.

Hanako is noticeably caught off guard for most of this scene, gaping in shock and stammering out a seemingly half-baked excuse for the kiss on the cheek.

Yashiro wanted a confession. Yashiro might return any romantic feelings he has (something previously thought impossible). Yashiro is crying. And it’s all his fault.

So, what does he do?

For the first time in the series, Hanako takes off his mask, allowing himself to be vulnerable and fully honest with her. He opens himself up, and the chance Yashiro could like him back props that the door slightly open. Though his ever increasing feelings for her become enough to push the door even wider open.

We can confirm his behaviour changed after this event since this pretty much marks the decline of the constant flirting from Hanako’s side. It still holds on for a bit into the 4 PM Bookstacks, but it’s rough once per chapter frequency beforehand has certainly diminished. Plus, after this point marks the casual contact that’s trademark to the ship.

Adding that the Hananene Whirlpool does not start until after the 4 PM Bookstacks--the first boundary visited after the Confession Tree chapter--and it requires Hanako to open up and not maintain a joking front, I think we have our winner.

This concludes the end of the first half of this post. Please wait patiently for pt 2 (it’sprobablyoutatthispointbutstill)

[radiorenjun]

Hug. ⅱ

→Pairing: Liu Yangyang x Reader

→Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

→Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Attempt Suicide and mentions of self degrading, insecurities, anxiety, negative thoughts, physical injuries.

→Looking from the perspective of Liu Yangyang, the boy who bullied a girl to the point she had a scar to burden both of their lives. He lived on with a heavy heart until he finally enters college and bumps into a girl with a familiar scar and the same tattoo on her wrist as his.

→ Chapter: ⅱ, ⅲ

The next day, Y/n didn't come to school. Yesterday was a huge fiasco, the teachers were frantically helping the poor girl who just stood there frozen, staring at her hand with fear in her eyes. Blood staining her sweater and dripping down her chin. The bleeding wasnt stopping.

Everything went by as a blur to Yangyang. His peers mumbling, "dude, you went to far." repeatedly around him. But all he could focus on was y/n's eyes which were red with tears, holding herself back from showing her pain.

He finally opened his eyes to him actions.

He realised what he had done wrong when he saw his older brother, Ten, on his knees infront of y/n's parents, asking for forgiveness with an envelope filled with money in his hand right infront of their house.

"Her lips needed to be stitched." was the rumor going around his class after she was sent to the hospital that day. When he came home, he was immediately dragged by Ten. He didn't even give him time to drop off his backpack at the porch of their house.

He didn't come from a very wealthy family, so he was surprised to see a huge wad of cash handed to her parents. He stood patiently outside of the gates just like Ten told him to, waiting for his brother to come back and scold him for his actions and restrict him from his Ps4.

His eyes widened when he saw Ten walking out of the gates with a kind smile on his face. "Don't be so naughty again, alright?" Ten told him with a soft voice, ruffling Yangyang's hair with the hand that wasn't covering his jaw. "Let's go home," Ten coaxed, putting a hand on the young boy's back.

Yangyang's chest clenched with guilt as he tried to move his eyes and mind away from the bruised lips of his brother. He was sure it wasn't there before. "I'll carry that for you, kid." Ten spoke, grabbing the straps of Yangyang's bag and swinging it onto his shoulder.

Yangyang realised he screwed up bad if his brother wasn't joking around like usual. Ten was always the nice older brother, after all. Yangyang's body tensed as he walked behind his brother, his fists clench in frustration.

Yangyang sighed as all he felt was water. His book falling on his head, wetting his hair. The people he once called 'Friends' looking up at him with disgust and malice as they push him to the fountain filled with dirty water, dumping the contents of his bag into it as well, soaking his notebook and bag.

"See you tomorrow, Yangyang." Marc chuckled harshly, tugging the sleeves of his baggy sweater before walking away with the rest of his gang. Tossing his pencil box towards the poor boy.

Yangyang panted, his breath harsh as his heartbeat started to decrease slowly from its rapid beating. His eyes relaxed as he watched the grey water drip down his hair, feeling the moss that was growing on the fountain under his palms.

Yangyang stared at his soaked figure before sighing, closing his eyes briefly as he recalled the events that just happened a couple of hours ago at school.

Yangyang's grip on his pen tighten when he saw the principal walk into class with a cold expression on his face and stood next to his homeroom teacher, both sharing a stern look on their faces. This wasn't going to be good.

"It has come to my attention that Y/n L/n hasn't been doing well in school. Regarding her absence, her mother has called to inform the school that she has been coming home with bruises on her forearms and knees. Allegedly caused by a harsh fall. We are worried that L/N is being bullied in class." the principal spoke in a low voice.

"Please inform us right now if you have witness any sort of harassment has occurred to L/N. Confess immediately for your actions or else your parents might also be in trouble." the principal spoke in a dull tone. Yangyang's heartbeat increased as his ears were suddenly muffled, a loud ringing song pierced his ears as he could hear the loud movements of his heart increasing rapidly.

Yangyang felt as if his pencil was bout to break with the amount of strength he was putting on his grip with each word coming out of the principal's mouth. "Liu Yangyang." His teacher called out, making Yangyang flinch at the loud tone of his usually laid back teacher.

"Yes!" He responded with an alarmed gasp, looking up from his desk to meet the angered eyes of his teacher through his glasses. "There's no hiding it, it's you. Now stand up!" his teacher yelled, slamming the sides of his fist onto the teachers table, causing the whole class to flinch.

No one dared to let out a small puff of breathe as the atmosphere began to thicken. Yangyang jolted up in his seat, standing up as shivers went down his spine with fear. His heart pounding as eyes around the class stared at him.

"Miao Miao." His teacher called out to his desk mate, eyes turning to her shocked ones. " You sat next to Yangyang, during these times, what do you think of the situation?" he asked. Miao Miao was one of the main people who teased and bullied y/n as much as Yangyang did. Surely she would get punished as well, right?

Miao Miao's expression turned relaxed as she avoided Yangyang and the teacher's eyes to look out at the window as she leaned her chin against her palm. "I told him to stop it, but he didn't want to listen. What am I suppose to do when Yangyang's stubborn like that?" she chuckled.

Yangyang's eyes widened in shock and betrayal. How could she say that after she, too, teased her as bad as he did? Well, maybe not as bad but she did some harsh things as well. Yangyang let out an "EH?" out of reflex when he heard her.

"Marc," his teacher called out, disrupting the young boy to call out another witness. Attention going into his friend who stared emotionlessly at the teacher. "What bout you?"

Yangyang stared desperately at his friend who won't even make eye contact. "I told him, 'Stop, thats really mean,' but like always, he won't listen." Marc sighed hopelessly before Yangyang let out a noise of pure shock.

"Marc! What the heck are you talking bout? You're always in it with me!" Yangyang exclaimed angrily, putting his palms on his desk as eyes went to him again. "The girls always trashtalked bout Y/n more than I can count. Especially Miao Miao and Yizing!" he spoke truthfully.

"Yangyang, how could you say that?" Yizing spoke with a sad tone. Her eyes filled with shock and tears, "I would never do that to Y/n! Yangyang you're so cruel, why would you tell a lie like that?! " she cried as tears began to stream down her face.

Yangyang's expression was filled with betrayal as he furrowed his brows in confusion, staring at the sobbing girl as looks of disgust and disappointment surrounded him. His heart rate increasing in his chest.

"He made her cry"

"Wow, what a jerk"

"Poor Yizing."

"She's crying?"

"What a bully."

"That's so cruel of him."

Yangyang opened his eyes before slowly getting up and quietly grabbed his wet notebooks and started gathering them. The soft sound of water moving along with him was the only thing that comforted his sorrow.

Day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute.

Second by second.

Yangyang dreaded his life at school.

He would trip over his classmate's shoe that was purposely stuck out for him to fall or stumble over. They would purposely kick or throw a ball in his direction and apologize profusely with no remorse of their actions.

They would scribble harsh words on his desk with the old chalk kept under the teacher's table for arts class. They would push him into the fountain water after school and dump out the contents of his back right infront of him and leave him on the ground as they snicker away laughing at the person who they once called a friend.

Yangyang never retorted or spoke back at them. Yet again, what was he suppose to do? He was in the wrong after all.

After cleaning up his desk with a wet cloth, he would always walk home with a sad expression. With the words written on his desk engraved in his thick skull.

'Go away, Yangyang'

'Stupid Yangyang'

'Bully'

'Jerk'

'Go to hell'

'Idiot'

He would come home running up to his room as fast as he can before Ten could see him as he cooked. "Yangyang!" Ten called out as Yangyang ran passed his brother, his hair soaking wet, his hands gripping his papers that were crumpled up and wet from his clothes.

A loud slam came from the door of Yangyang's room as it shut tight, leaving a concerned Ten looking up at the second floor from the staircase, a skillet filled with some eggs in one hand and a spatula in the other.

Yangyang sighed, his shoes making small squelching noises with his every step. Another day school day, another day of being pushed to the fountain. The sun was beginning to set, he has just finished his soccer practice and is currently heading back to his class to grab his bag to pack up and go home.

His eyes widened slightly when he turned and stood at the doorway of his class to see a familiar figure standing right infront of his desk, her back towards him. He knew that figure too well.

His blood began to boil at the sight of her. "Hey! What are you doing!?" he exclaimed, walking up to her. Seeing as she had ignored him, he grabbed y/n's shoulders and pulled her away from his desk. "What are you doing to my desk, you creep!" he growled angrily before pausing.

His eyes widened at his desk which was now spotless and clean. There wasn't a single trace of chalk like there was a couple hours ago. His eyes went to the dirty now multicolored wet cloth in her hand to her face.

"It's that smile again." he breathed out before pushing her by her shoulder to his desk. "What do you think you're doing, Huh?!" he yelled, pining her to the desk with a hand on her shoulder.

"What's with that smile? Aren't you pissed at me, too?!" he screamed angrily as she tried to push him away with her palms, letting out small grunts. "Thought you can't speak! What do you wanna say to me Huh? Say it, you freak!" he screamed.

Suddenly, y/n bit her wrist, making him release her at the sharp pain. Shock over coming home as she began kicking him with her feet to fight back, Yangyang's anger overtaking his body as his hand went to grab her wrist to stop her from punching his chest and his other went to pull her hair.

Small grunts and whines came from her throat as the room was filled with the sound of her shoe coming in contact with his clothes and their struggling. "Stop pretending that you're all friendly, it's pathetic!" he gasped out as she finally released her grip on the desk to grip his wrists from pushing and pulling against her hair.

She kicked him til he fell down on the floor. She got up and tackled him, her knees on either side of the young boy's chest as she began pulling and pushing on his face and shirt. Letting out her pent up frustration as he heard her voice for the first time ever since she got here.

"I'm tr-trying my b-best to be your friend!" she stuttered out, her voice hoarse as she hasn't used it in years, it was difficult to make out what she was saying with her sobs coming out of her throat.

"I'm t-t-trying okay!" she stuttered out. "What are you saying?! I don't freaking understand!" he growled out angrily, sitting up to come face to face with her eyes which were covered by her hair. She only pushed him down back to the floor with her palm as she sobbed, punching weakly at his chest.

Yangyang ran a hand through his hair as he stopped scrubbing against the wooden surface of his desk with the wet cloth, the chalk smudging the words written and the doodles drawn on it by his classmates earlier in class.

He paused as he got to his knees on the floor and leaned his head against the edge of his table and sighed exasperatedly. "She freaking pisses me off." he mumbled to no one but himself as the ray of the sun setting shone over his exhausted figure.

"Attention class. We have been informed that your fellow classmate, Y/N L/N, has transferred schools-" Yangyang's finger paused on clicking the end of his mechanical pencil, his head not looking up from being buried under his forearm.

His closed eyes didnt open as he continued to slowly press down on the end of his mechanical pencil. He didn't know what to feel bout the girl moving away, but he knew that the pain in his chest isn't going away anytime soon.

tags: @wonho-ssi

LMAO this is so bad.

[norafike]

Despite all this, I still love you 19

That day replayed on loop in her head often and she would usually find herself trembling with the frightening flashes of light from shooting guns and the gruesome sight of that headless horseman would appear before her eyes. At first, she thought that it had been Kieran like Micah told but after more thinking she realised that it didn't look like the boy at all.

She was curious on how Micah managed to convince the majority of the gang's members that this was their missing campmate, but they weren't the brightest group of individuals and she deemed that a valid excuse in itself.

Perhaps the events of that night were only coming back to her now for a reason? One she wanted the answers to sooner to save herself from inevitable nightmares to come. That's how they usually started and her repressing them proved to be dangerous later on, otherwise she probably wouldn't still be suffering after those events a whole year after.

“How are ya?” Cripps greeted her fondly, taken to standing in the clearing just outside of the trees with a lit cigarette in hand. She had no answer for him because she did not want to confess her concerns so soon but eventually somebody would need to be trusted so she wouldn't end up plagued by it. So she lied, at least for now. “Fine.”

“Well, that is good to hear.” He shook the embers out and dropped the butt to the ground once he had finished smoking, but the smoke lingered over them, almost choking. It felt thicker than what it should be but perhaps she was only being dramatic. “Listen, I got a job for you.”

“There's always a job, isn't there?” Her attitude irked Cripps. “Now you ain't done shit for us in day's, I figured that while you been hanging around here that you would like something to do.”

“I'm exhausted, can't you send one of the boy's out on it?” She waved back at camp and the older male simply stood firm with his arms crossed. “Lem's going with you, as are James an' Harry.”

“I feel like you're just tryin' to get us out of camp.” Nora intended it as a joke but Cripps failed to see it that way, immediately choosing to turn defensive and dismiss the claim. It earned that suspicious look in Nora's eye and eventually she let out a quiet sigh, nodding as she accepted whatever Cripps had in mind. “What is it?”

Cripps gave her a wicked grin before explaining just what it was he had in mind.

...

“Cripps has really sent us out on this?” Harry could not believe it, huddled together in a group all armed with rifles as they waited for an eastern turkey to scurry by.

Whenever they wanted to go hunting the lands were sparse and not even a wild horse would gallop past and it came as no surprise that the animals seemed to appear when they were not needed. There was only so much patient the group had together, from Harry and James' despise towards Lem and how little care she had left in her brother's attitudes towards the individual she had called a friend.’ So when they were all forced together as a group to undergo the most patient job ever sent on, well, the troubles started to build up behind bitten tongues and the want to take their frustrations out on the other became strong.

“I swear we should move to find them damn turkeys, are you even sure that they come this way?” Harry bitterly said.

“Positive now shut the hell up or they'll runoff.”

Her brother simply rolled his eyes at the comment. James would soon tap his shoulder and gently motion for him to follow, sneaking away from the bushes they hid in after growing tired for waiting around too long. They thought they were being sneaky but Nora knew very well by the scraping of twigs against branches and the snapping of twigs beneath their feet that they were leaving and she smirked because unbeknownst to them it was what she planned.

Curiously, Lem would watch them ride away with cheers as they thought they got away with it and gave Nora a quizzical look to question her letting them do that and she replied with a small shrug at first before going into further explanation. “They'd get tired eventually and would leave us alone, it cleared the air of tension a bit and they're probably gonna go and hunt us a turkey now on their own to prove just how better they are.”

“So what are we gonna do then?”

“Well we're gonna collect that wagon because we were never told to make a trade, fella's already got what he needs and more and so Cripps was able to convince him into handin' it over.”

He found himself impressed by the antics and followed her out of the brambles and leaves to the small clearing where their horses waited and during their walk, he praised her for the idea, but never admitting how grateful he was that she got rid of her brothers. Any longer and he felt that they would have killed him then and there. “So where is the wagon then?”

“Just a little south, near Flat Iron lake.”

“You ain't worried t-that they're gonna head down there?”

She shook her head. “With any luck they'll have some sense knocked into them, if they do and besides, Harry'll probably take James towards Cumberland Forest.”

It felt ridiculous hearing it over but the boys weren't the brightest of the bunch so he believed it, but then again, neither was he.

“Can't believe that worked... I don't d-doubt you at all but somethin' that simple tricked 'em?”

“Surprisingly, but ain't you lived here for… twenty-eight years and still get lost in most places?”

Quickly the male shook his head but did appear to be embarrassed with Nora's statement and she gently gave his shoulder a gentle pat. “I still get lost sometimes, too. Ain't nothin' wrong in going the wrong way.”

As they came close to Flat Iron lake he had been first to spot the wagon, sitting just off of the path near a makeshift camp set up for this other trader Cripps mentioned. He greeted the two fondly and even handed over a small can of beans to be polite and they accepted it with a bright smile and many words of thanks before moving out with the wagon Cripps wanted them to gather.

Sticking to the roads, while tediously long, was the best route to go and Lem had even taken to whistling old tunes from his younger days that Nora seemed familiar with. She would nod along but never joined it, just that bit embarrassed to accidentally make a fool of herself and be teased about it for years to come. “Maggie's asked if you're still any good playin' instruments.” After a while, he decided that it was time to initiate conversation.

“Why?”

“I don't know... but she asked and a-all I could say was that I'd have to ask ya.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding slowly, despite having not played for a while she would probably remember something good enough to play at Fike's request. “Guess I am.”

“Great. I think she'll be glad hearin' it.”

The corner of Nora's mouth turned up into a slight smirk before she kicked back into focusing on their journey home, with Lem back to whistling and tapping his knuckles against the bench.

...

“Good work, with this we should have a full supply soon.”

“Does this mean I can leave now?”

Cripps quickly revealed a letter, handing it over but held a concerned expression on his face. “This was left for you.”

“Off?”

“Feller didn't give a name, but seemed to know ya.”

She gently looked at Lem before tearing the envelope apart. The paper inside was old and the ink had bled considerably, the writing almost impossible to read but with Lem's help they were able to decipher the introduction and the task she had been asked to do.

“Whoever dropped this off needs me to meet 'em near Riggs Station and to go alone.” She said, the instructions sounded suspicious straight away. “You ain't gonna go, are you?”

“I am, Fike.” He didn't take too kindly to her answer, his brows knitting together before she even had a chance to explain. “I ain't b-bright but I know that, that l-letter has danger scribbled all over it.”

“I'll be fine.”

“I don't trust you going, Nora.”

“Look, you can't make me do shit, I'm going and that's final. But even I know that this don't seem right, ‘go alone’ has suspect written all over. Just, ride out a few hours after me and you'll know if somethin' happens, if something does.”

“Why the hell are you bein' so goddamn stubborn.”

“Whatever.”

She grabbed her bolt-action from the weapon locker and with one, forced smile, left camp much to his protests of distrust in the writing.

“Why is she a-always like this, JB?”

“I don't know, son. I don't know.”

...

Just as instructed she rode down towards the train station and continued further down the trail, eventually coming to a small clearing where a man shrouded in a dark coat was stood. He had his back turned but knew she was there, cleared his throat as a manner of introduction as he rose from his stool.

“Nora Morgan?” He asked and she noticed the strong Irish accent immediately. She didn't want to jump to conclusions too soon, but most folk around the area who dressed in black and came from Ireland were notoriously members of the O'Driscoll's.

“I am. You are?”

“That don't matter.” She heard the rustling in bushes around, her hand moving to hover over the holster ready to draw her revolver and very quickly someone else, dressed in that similar fashion had leapt out in front of her. She was quick to draw her gun but had it knocked from her grasp when someone managed to grab her arm and force it out. Her bad arm being twisted uncomfortably and forcing out a cry of pain soon after.

“And he said that it wouldn't be easy takin' you down. Look at you, pathetic little thing.” She tried struggling against them but whoever had her apprehended was far more stronger than she was. “Walk her away, Colm will be pleased to see her.”

She struggled a little more, managing to put up a good enough fight so that they couldn't walk far with her but unfortunately they had taken to more of a drastic approach, taking the butt of her gun and hitting her head with it; enough to make her dazed and fall to the ground. He stood over her, this sinister grin on her face before connected her boot with her head.

The last thing she heard before falling unconscious was his laughter. The last thing she saw, was Lem's expression of worry and then there was nothing.

[captain-jinguji]

Oh my, I need yandere alphabet for Ren😏

I gotchu 😏 @kumanekoworld I saw your request too so here it is.

REN JINGUJI YANDERE ALPHABET

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

His way of showing affection, at first, doesnt change. He would still shower his darling in gifts and compliments, making time and taking them places; it almost seems normal. But at some point, it's like a flip switches, and he becomes more clingy. Always has to be around you, going out becomes less and less and when you do leave the house, he always has an arm clinging to you. 

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He doesnt even realize how messy it gets until it's done. These overwhelming feelings of expressiveness and obsessives get the better of him and seeing another person threaten you or worse, try to take you from him, makes all rationality leave his brain. At first, he'd try to hide it from his darling, but he becomes sloppy and its not long before they realize it's blood on his shirt, and not paint. 

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He would act like nothing happened. As long as he behaves normally, things will go smoothly, right? Pretending that they've always been together and that life was a jolly holiday. At some point, especially if his darling is testing his patience, he might lash out at them and mock their cries and attempts to plead with him. 

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Oh yes. Love is an intimate thing, even when it's this obsessive. He not only forces them to stay with him, he also forces them to touch him, both sexually and not, because that's what 'real' lovers do. 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

The main reason he would even cross over this line is because he needs love. All his life hes been neglected and played; finding his darling was the best thing that has happened and he sure as hell is going to give his all. He becomes open, and vulnerable, always honest with what he wants from his darling and where they stand with him. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He'd become annoyed and not understand. He gives you everything and more and you're FIGHTING him? It's almost like he turns into beast mode and he will fight back. It gets ugly with yelling and he will put force into it if you start to get physical. He feels so betrayed and hurt that he not only locks you away, but he leaves himself to cool off. After all, theres no way you actually hate him. It must've been something smaller than that. He'll figure it out. 

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Kind of. At first, he thinks its cute how strong willed and determined his darling is to escape him, but he does become annoyed. Why wont you love him? Why don't you appreciate him? He will hunt you down each time, he has connections to make someone else get you for him. There's no escaping him. He is Mr. Worldwide. 

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The worst thing he's ever done to his darling was lock them up for a week straight in his designated dark room, only giving them water and not letting them sleep. The malnutrition and lack of sleep quickly got them, and though they lost a few pounds during that week, Ren was pleased with his efforts. A weak darling is a darling that cant leave him. They relied on him for everything for a while after that and that's what it's all about; him being the the provider, the protector, the one you need to rely on. 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He really wants to keep it as normal as possible. He wants to get married and go on adventures with you. No kids though, he cant have you sharing your attention and taking most of it away from him. 

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

At first, he's his natural self. Understanding, carefree, but something irks him inside and he quickly becomes annoyed. He doesnt lash out, at least not in front of his darling; he'll find the man/woman in private to have a 'chat" and publicly ruins them. 

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Again, he tries to keep it normal. Light kisses and soft touches. Loving words and tight hugs. A typical relationship on the outside. A fairy tale for anyone else. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He's very blunt. He likes it, he gets it. He charms them with words and sweet promises; soft affections and making himself seem like the best possible joice. Prince charming, in a way. 

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Oh yes. To everyone else, including his friends, hes this light hearted, goofy guy. Perfectly easy on the eyes and the heart. But behind closed doors, something that only his darling gets to see, hes a beast. Wild and stalking his prey; fiercely protective over whats his. 

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He's not a stranger to actually physically harming his darling and they have had cuts and bruises on them. But he doesnt like to ruin their perfect skin so he usually locks them up, sometimes for days on end, and goes back to weakening his darling physically. 

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He's actually not known to take many rights away. His darling is free to do what they want as long as he knows what they're doing and where they are. It only becomes a problem when they go somewhere outside of, lets say, the city; he needs to be there in that case. Always by their side..he cant have you running of now can he? 

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

As much as he wants to think he's patient, hes really not. He gets temperamental and annoyed really easily and doesnt like it when his darling fights back. 

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If it was an escape scenario, he'd do everything in his power to get them back, and he WILL be successful. However, if they die, I dont think he'd move on from that. Giving his all into someone and 'molding' the perfect darling took a toll on him and he would genuinely be soul crushed. 

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. He absolutely has no guilty feeling whatsoever mainly because he doesnt see a problem with his actions. This is all for love.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Childhood trauma and the feeling of loneliness. Not having a mother, his father's hatred, and the constant quarrels with both his brothers and childhood friends like Masato and Ranmaru, formed a whole in his heart that he was never able to fill, no matter how many women he toyed with. His darling is the first person to make him feel full again and theres no way he'll let you go now. 

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He hates it. He tries to keep the peace and make them as happy as possible with gifts and himself. Why are you crying? What brought these feelings of sadness? Why are you yelling at him? He becomes mad but also concerned; obviously someone mustve hurt you. It just never occurs to him that he's that someone. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He probably gives his darling more freedom than some other yanderes. Again, he wants things to seem as normal as possible to anyone else. 

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

He does tend to get vulnerable with his darling and let's his guard down, especially on the anniversary of his mother's death. You could easily slip something in his drink or food and have a chance to escape; however, you have to remember that he has ears and eyes everywhere due to his connections so your escape might be short lived. 

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

As much as he hates to admit it, he HAS beaten his darling. He always feels bad afterwards and tends to their bruises and cuts, but its really your fault for trying to leave. 

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Body worship is a big thing of his. They are perfect to him, gorgeous, stunning, beautiful. I wouldn't say he has a whole shrine or anything, but his phone is full of pictures and he has paintings of them, both NSFW and not, on his walls. Before they ended up with him, he even went as far as to install cameras in their house and on them. 

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Honestly, not very long. He keeps up with it only for a short time before his true colors start to show. Of course, only his darling would know that, which is mainly why no one else would be able to help them out of this situation. 

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Oh yes. He manipulates them both mentally and physically to rely and depend only on him. He's good at it too and it takes less time for him to win his darling over than some other guys.