#hopefully I’ll be able to talk to her so she knows the circumstances

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Today is going sooo well. Love it. Great.

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

[CHAPTER TWO]

CW: Marijuanna use

“Chris, I’m not so sure about this,” I mumble, crossing my arms as I follow my cousin down the forest trail. “Things are just going to get super awkward.”

“Then just… don’t talk to him. Can’t be that hard, right?” Chris responds. I can tell that he knows as well as I do that Josh himself would do whatever it takes to get under my skin in any given circumstance.

“It’s his house,” I retort.

“It’s Hannah’s get together,” he replies. “She knows how you guys are, hopefully she’ll get him off your ass.” I say nothing. "Just..." Chris stops walking and turns around to look me in the eyes.

"What?"

"Just please try to get along?" He asks. His expression is serious and pleading. I sigh, heavily. Why wasn't he on my side? Why can't Josh try to get along with me?

"Sure, Chris," I relent. "I'll... do my best." Chris smiles at me appreciatively and continues down the trail. I hate this. I don't want to be walked over, I don't want to be the doormat or the verbal punching bag for whoever was in a bad mood that day - especially Josh's. But I didn't want to ruin everybody else's good mood, either. If no one else sees a problem, why am I so upset?

The autumn trees towered above us, providing shelter from the warm sun – although some warmth would be appreciated as the temperatures dropped lower by the day. I’d only been to the Washington house before for some rager of a graduation party, when the sky was dark. With the sun, however, the gorgeous forest could make me almost forget I was on a death march to the lair of my enemy.

Chris and I finally make it to the porch of the Washington home. He turns to me, as if to say “after you!” I hold my arms tighter to my body and shake my head. So, after a roll of the eyes, he knocks. There’s a muffled call from the other side to let us know someone was coming to let us in. Just my luck, Joshua opens the door.

“What are you, Chris, a vampire? Gotta be invited in, now?” Josh jokes, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m with Jordan,” Chris says, as if clarifying. Josh looks over Chris’s shoulder to see me. I swear I see his smile widen, and I can only think that can’t be good.

“You can leave her outside, Chris, no worries,” Josh snickers as he steps aside, holding open the door for Chris and I. As I walk past, I nod and offer a gentle thanks. “You’re welcome, pet.” Immediately, Chris sighs as if he knows whats coming. He knows I want to say something – but the guilt I feel in my chest for ruining every good mood keeps me from speaking. Instead, I just give him a hurt, frustrated look.

Josh seems surprised. Next to the shock, though, is a flash of an emotion I can’t quite catch. It’s Josh, however. So I didn’t much care. I walked into the living room, where everyone else was waiting. Hannah stands up and hurries to greet me, walking straight past Chris to pull me into a hug.

“Ahh, thank you for coming! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, uhm, thank you!” I pause. “For inviting me, I mean. You have a lovely home.” I give an awkward bow, staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re so fucking weird, what are you doing?! I scold myself. I know they’re thinking it, too, but I once again push the negative thoughts away.

“We’re gonna head down to the basement,” Hannah says, smiling as if I hadn’t just made the most awkward air possible. “Do you smoke?” I’m taken by surprise. Chris, Josh, and everyone else walks past Hannah and I and towards the stairs.

“Smoke?” I repeat. “What, like, weed?” Hannah giggles.

“Yes, like, weed,” she says.

“Yeah, sometimes. Not often, though.”

“Great! We have weed.”

“Sounds… good.” A part of me is relieved. Maybe with something in my system I’ll be able to relax for once. Especially around Josh. I feel a burning anger in my chest at just the thought of him. Hannah takes my hand firmly and begins to lead me to the stairs the others had gone down. I make a mental note that the twins both really seem to like holding hands. Not that I minded. It just wasn’t that common for someone to take your hand in theirs when showing you around their house.

We get to the basement, and it’s noticeably colder. And massive. My eyebrows raise as I look around the room. There’s a huge TV mounted on the wall, a large circular wooden table in the middle of the room on a round, purple rug. Around the table for seating were two L couches, and on the couches were Hannah’s friends. Not everyone, though.

Matt, Sam, and Jess were missing, leaving just Ashley, Mike, and his girlfriend Emily, who was casually sitting on his lap. Next to Mike and Emily, Chris unsurprisingly had sat next to Ashley, leaving the other couch to Hannah, Beth, Joshua and I. For a moment I wondered if this could be some kind of set up. Hannah quickly left my side to sit next to Beth on the furthest end of the couch. On the other side was, of course, Joshua, rolling a joint. And, of course, the only open seat was next to him.

And he knew it.

I didn’t want to be rude or, again, make things awkward. And so, I sat next to Joshua Washington. It’s here, watching him focused on something that I suddenly realize how tired he looks. The underside of his eyes were dark, as if he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days.

“Like what you see?” Josh smiles, eyebrows raised. I frown in response.

“No.” I immediately regret this as the vibe is instantly brought down by my rude answer. “I mean, like, not NO, but I just mean I didn’t -”

“Calm down, girl, I’m just… just JOSHING ya,” he laughs. I roll my eyes but I can’t help the small smile that hints at my face. Josh’s head snapped to his sisters, mouth wide open in a smile as if he can’t believe I was capable of anything but a straight face or a frown. “I made her smile!” He whisper yells. I hate it, but it makes it harder to keep the smile down. Somehow I manage not to fully grin.

“Alright, you first, Mike,” Josh says, handing the dark haired boy the joint. Mike takes a long drag and shotguns it to Emily. My lip twitches, threatening to make an obvious sneer at the strong PDA.

“Ohh, spicey,” I hear Josh laugh. “Chris and Ashley next.” Ashley and Chris immediately chime in in a chorus of no’s. Chris takes the joint and takes a hit. I notice his hands are shaking. The idea of his lips so close to Ashley’s is more than it appears he can take. I can hear Josh continue to laugh to himself as Ashley is handed the joint.

“So, what’s the plan for the winter this year?” Beth says, her face shining with excitement. “Are you guys coming?” Mike and Emily look away from each other, their teasing and giggling cut short by Beth’s question. Despite the unhappy look on Emily’s face, she answers. Ashley passes the joint to Hannah.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, hon,” she smiles, but it looks forced and sarcastic, even. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as to why she’s here – and why does she keep getting invited? Mike nods next to her, a smile on his handsome face. He seems much more laid back and agreeable than his girlfriend, who I notice is looking me up and down. “Do you have a problem or something, weird girl?” I’m taken aback at the sudden confrontation and I sit up straight. My heart begins to pound. Hannah passes the joint to Beth.

“No, I don’t. I was just -”

“Staring at me like some sort of creep? Yeah, I saw. I saw you look at my man, too. What’s up? You want him?”

“What? No, I -”

“You can’t have him. So eyes off, bitch.” I clench my jaw, hard. I swear I almost cracked a tooth.

"Emily -" Mike starts, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and embarrassment. He shoots me a worried, apologetic look.

"No, it's fine," I say, staring Emily directly in the eyes. As I expected, she takes it as a challenge. "I looked at you, yeah. When you're sucking face like that it's hard to ignore." Beth passes the joint to Josh.

"Well, keep looking." Emily hisses, throwing her arms around Mike and holding his neck tightly. I wonder if he can breathe. I clear my throat and look up at Chris. His eyes are already a bit droopier, but through his mild high he still looks back at me with a sort of pity and embarrassment that I just can't stand.

Josh hands me the joint.

"Go on, take a big drag, babydoll," Josh grins at me. I frown at him. He did nothing wrong, but I still can't help but feel like he's making fun of me in some way. Still, I ignore the nickname. I know he's just trying to get under my skin, yet I can feel the tips of my ears heat up in embarrassment. I side-eye Josh as I put the blunt in between my lips. He's staring at me as if he's studying me, his ever present smile missing from his face, eyes half closed. He couldn't be high that quickly, could he?

As he suggested, I take a long drag, adding a bit of 'coolness' by French inhaling.

"Oh, so cool, I've never seen that before," Emily says sarcastically. I ignore her as I pass the weed back to Mike. Mike doesn't look at me as he takes it, instead glaring at Emily. I can tell he's embarrassed by her cruelty.

I don't hate Mike. He's never been my favorite person in the world, but he's never done anything to me or that I've seen that could make me dislike him other than his habit of... Well, women. However, I could tell that despite her attitude Mike saw something beneath that and really did care about Emily. He was handsome, I could never deny that. Thick, dark hair and brown eyes, a chiseled jaw and a decent body to match. The more time I spent near him the more I understood that he really wasn't a stereotypical 'high school hot guy.' Mr. Class President. He locks eyes with me and gives me an awkward smile. I can sense an apology in his expression. I want to return a look, but I quicky shift my gaze before Emily catches on to the telepathic conversation.

As we continue the rotation, the conversation of their winter plans continues on. I listen, but I don't contribute due to my lack of invitation. I look around me, and everyone looks happy and content. I can feel my own high start to creep up under my eyes, and I can't help but smile to myself. It was pleasant. Even though these were people I didn't yet consider friends outside of Chris, Beth, and Hannah, I didn't feel completely out of place in this moment. I felt content for the first time in a long time.

An hour passes.

"Hey, I'm sorry, where's your bathroom?" I ask. I start to think I might be greening out and I needed a moment to myself. Josh turns to me, a dopey grin on his face.

"The bathroom?" He asks. I smile back at him.

"Yeah, the bathroom."

"What for?" Josh scoots closer as if to hear me better.

"I'm getting anxious, I think," I admit. This surprises me. Why would I tell Josh I'm anxious? So he can make it worse? Instead of poking fun at me and telling everyone to look, his smile fades slightly and his eyebrows twitch in what looks like concern.

"Anxious? Are you ok?"

"I'm greening," I say, widening my eyes for a moment to exaggerate. Josh takes my hand.

"I will escort you to the bathroom," he says, standing up. "It's kind of a maze, this house." He's smiling at me. Even under the influence I can't help but search for any sign of malicious intent. My anxiety spikes further. What does he have planned?

"Can't you just tell me how to get there?" I ask, though I stand with him anyway.

"Yeah, but you'll get lost."

"Joshua Washington," Hannah starts, her tone that of a parent warning their child. "You better not upset her or I swear..."

"Yeah!" Beth chimes in.

"Awe, guys, give me a chance! Give me a chance..." He trails off, beginning to lead me to the stairs, still holding my hand. When we're further away, I inform him that my hand was still in his. "Oh, can I just keep holding it? Your hands are just so soft." I say nothing. How do I respond to that? Is this some sort of joke?

"Your hands are calloused," is all I can muster.

"Oh, man, is that bad?"

"No."

We stand in front of a door. I assume it's the bathroom but I can't think clearly. Josh just stares at me. I ask him if this is the bathroom. He says nothing. He's expressionless.

"You seem anxious around me, do I make you anxious?"

"Is this the bathroom?" I ask. Silence. My heart is pounding. What is he trying to do? Embarrass me? He's staring into my very being. Of course he makes me anxious.

"...yeah." He steps aside, opening the door for me. He suddenly seems sober. I feel a pang of guilt as I walk past him and into the bathroom. Why? I stare at myself in the mirror, studying my own features. I'm not wearing any makeup, but I kind of wish I did. Maybe some mascara, or something. My cheeks and the tips of my ears were a light red, my flustered state obvious. As I observe myself, my mind wanders to the people out there, in the basement. Chris seems to really enjoy their company. Outside of Emily and Josh, I do too. Yet I still can't help but question it all.

Did they see me as a charity case? They never invited me to anything before, no texts after I'd moved. The friendship or my classmates was utterly and completely out of nowhere. Why did Beth and Hannah invite me? My pupils are dilated. I look tired. My eyes water. Will I be invited again? I think I hope so.

A knock on the door makes me jump.

"Are you ok in there?"

"It's been like, 10 seconds."

"It's been like, 10 minutes, J." Had it really been that long? There was no way. J? I find myself wondering where such a familiar sounding nickname came from.

"Are you timing me?" I ask.

"No," he answers. "I'm not." A beat of silence.

"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?" Josh doesn't answer. After a moment of silence, he knocks again.

"Are you ok in there?" I roll my eyes and sigh in frustration, opening the door and stepping out. Well, trying to. Josh is standing directly in the opening and I bump into him, hard, but he doesn't stumble. He grabs both my shoulders as if to hold me still, keep me from falling over. I only notice now he's taller than me by a few inches, my eyes in line with his mouth.

"Yeah," I say, frozen in place. He's touching me

Why is he touching me? Why? His grip loosens, noticing how tense I am.

"You were just in there for a while, and," he paused, taking a step back. "I dunno, sometimes people cry at get togethers or whatever." I chew on my lower lip. I had almost cried. "It would've been a major bummer, or whatever."

"Do I look like I was crying?"

"Yes." I'm taken aback, lifting my hands to my face. Sure enough, my cheeks are wet with what can only be tears.

"How would - how would you know?" Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. He takes another step back from me as he looks at the wall to my left, shifting his weight. Is he nervous?

"...I've seen you cry a lot."

"Oh. Right." The silence is deafening. "Let's go back downstairs." I wipe my face dry with the sleeves of my sweater. "Thanks for showing me where the bathroom is." I try to change the subject. He says nothing, only offering me a nod this time. He doesn't take my hand.

"Next time you're on your own." He huffs, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from me and back towards the basement. I'm taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude but I bite my tongue. I promised Chris I would do my best to get along with Josh, and I intended to keep it. But damn was it difficult.

Back into the basement, Josh is already sat and smoking. I furrow my eyebrows. Did he have to be high to tolerate my presence? I shake the thought from my head and take my place next to him. He shifts, scooting slightly further away from me. My chest fills with a deep, rumbling anger, and I grip the sides of the couch tightly. I didn't do anything to him.

"You'll be coming, right, Jordan?" Beth asks. I snap out of my thoughts and lean forward to see her over her brother, who stiffens.

"What? Coming to what?" I ask. Beth smiles and rolls her eyes playfully. I can hear Emily snicker and Mike sigh at her in mild frustration, saying her name as if in a warning - again. Chris is watching Josh, his eyes seemingly scanning for something.

"Our parents own a lodge up on a mountain," Hannah answers for Beth. "In the winter we all spend a few days up there. No parents, if you were wondering."

"And you're invited," Beth butts in. "It would be rude of us to talk about it so much in front of you if we didn't plan on taking you along." I'm passed the blunt, but I don't hit it this time. I'm high enough.

"Uh, well, I don't know," I start, chewing at my bottom lip. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me intensely. The sudden eye contact kind of freaks me out. I look at Chris, who shrugs at me, his expression wide eyed and clueless. Emily rolls her eyes, and the twins look at me expectantly. "I... I don't think I would be any fun." My heart pounds. I don't want to spend time trapped on a mountain for days near Joshua Washington. I would expect to wake up one morning with my mattress somehow moved outside as a "joke."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just not a partier." I gulp. I look again at Chris. I can't tell what he's thinking. Does he want me to come? Does he think I'll ruin it for him? For everyone?

I think I would.

"Jordan, please. Just think about it?" Hannah pleads, standing up from her place on the couch to crouch down in front of me like a parent talking to their child. I can feel Josh's gaze boring into me, telling me I'd better not dare to say yes. My eyes snap to his, my head unmoving.

If you come to the lodge I will make your life hell.

The anger in me bubbles and burns to the point of pain, my jaw clenching. I can't help but think about how many times I'd missed out on something because Joshua Washington would be there or even nearby. How many tears have I shed over this asshole? And now what? Now he thought he could control me?

"Jordan?" Hannah repeats. I know she can see the staring battle between Josh and I.

"You know what, Hannah?" I start. Something in Josh's expression changes. The warning is still there, but now there's something else. Shock? Admiration?

"Yeah?" Hannah starts to smile, though there's a hint of nervousness to it. I wonder if regret ever creeped into her head.

Fear?

I don't know. But I know I'm done with agreeing to be put down and pushed around for the comfort of others. If Joshua Washington wanted a battle he sure as hell would get one, though this time there was no winning for him. I'm not laying down anymore. I turn my head so I'm fully facing him. His expression shifts further towards surprise and realization that something was different.

"I'll be there."

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

Whoo!! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for your patience.

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby

[homestuckreplay]

here's what happens when you read too many rage comics

(page 848-861)

While John and Dave are busy in combat, we get to go exploring with Rose and Jade! There’s some back and forth between them, but I’ll take them one at a time.

Jade :D

While leaving her house, Jade gets contacted by the world’s lamest troll. carcinoGeneticist’s whole deal, messaging Jade, is to talk in all caps, call her ‘stupid’ and an ‘idiot’, and accuse her of fucking everything up. There’s no targeted insults, no creativity, no clever and subtle manipulation, no hiding the existence of the trolling. I give carcinoGeneticist a 2/10 trollscore because at least they were able to get around Jade’s blocklist, but this is a sad and lackluster beginning to trolls in the narrative, if indeed they come back. Hopefully twinArmageddons has something more interesting to say.

Jade continues to be different to the other kids. Her grandfather’s list of interests is as long as his profession as a ‘world renowned explorer-naturalist-treasure hunter-archaeologist-scientist-adventurer-big game hunter-billionaire extraordinaire’ (p.790). His love of big game trophies, suits of armor and decrepit mummies all make sense here, as those are things he’s personally hunted and stolen on expeditions, but his ‘plundering’ of beauty parlors (p.855) is as unexpected as the idea of a business clown. Dad, Mom and Bro are all weird in that they’re extremely focused on a couple specific things, Grandpa is weird because he’s into loads of things all at once. There’s also strangely colored lights coming from the other floors of Jade’s house, hinting at more weird stuff Grandpa’s up to.

It’s Jade quoting from the past, but this is technically the second line of dialog in Homestuck (the first being Dave’s ‘Stop!’ on p.354):

"Jade, study hard and keep your rifle at the ready. When adventure summons, I know you will rise to the task and take your rightful place among the DAUGHTERS OF ECLECTICA." (p.855)

This better not be another spooky grandparent prophecy, because Act 3 already has more than enough of those. But speaking of Jade-John parallels, the big game trophy blocking Jade’s transportalizer (p.857) looks oddly familiar side by side with John’s desktop (p.24). Are we to understand that Jade’s grandfather killed the Firefox of this universe?

Rose <3

I’m so into Rose’s story right now because she’s the first kid who’s had a chance to explore a new place. John, Dave and Jade are all still ‘homestuck’, but Rose has escaped to this whole mysterious lab. And that’s after already getting the coolest house, with its waterfall, observatory, cat mausoleum, and 20-foot tall granite statue of a mighty wizard. Page 850 gives such a great sense of scale with tiny Rose comprehending the horrors and wonders of the space.

The lab’s ‘HUBGRID’ (p.850) is a big green chessboard, 8x8 squares each with 12x12 locked, glowing atomic devices for a total of 9,216 hubs, divided into four segments, with aisles and a transportalizer at the center. Comparing these side by side, it’s the exact same pattern as the ones in Jade’s house, and there’s also one of these hubs visible in the lower corner of Jade’s room powering one of those devices. Could the lab transportalizer go to Jade’s island? Or to a different SkaiaNet lab, as this one is described through coordinates (p.860)? Jade’s grandpa has a laboratory (p.780), so these could be one and the same, and Rose and Jade playing with the same gadgets feels relevant while the story is cutting back and forth between them.

Earlier, Rose connected to lab wifi network SN_LAB0413, which unlike the other SN_LAB wifi options was ‘mysteriously and quite conveniently UNSECURED, requiring no password’ (p.239). Today, a kiosk shows the command ‘> unlock SN_LAB0413’. I think Act 3’s theme might be showing how planned all these circumstances were that previously felt like coincidence, although that still doesn’t answer who exactly planned all this, or where they got their knowledge from.

> Rose: Place velvet pillow on strange platform. Be the mad scientist.

[lilacxquartz]

hey,can u plz share ur personal thought on gojo, Kenny,yuki and Megumi?

hahaah, personal thoughts. let’s see, let’s see. i’m so sorry for the upcoming yapping but. 😮‍💨 spoilers up ahead—HOWEVER BE WARNED IT IS A NOVEL OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY.

at the risk of having my gojo card revoked, i actually started off not really liking him too much because of the initial personality he let on. honestly props to gege for fleshing out his personality over the manga, because he quickly became one of my favourites.

i loved him as the concept of expected perfectionism from circumstances you can’t control. the idea of having to grow up perfect because you were had for a purpose is something i think unfortunately a lot of us can relate to even if we aren’t destined to be the strongest. (at the risk of doxxing myself, one of my parents is from a ‘we expect great things from you or else’ type culture/country that isn’t so common in the west) so seeing a character that actually does crumble in the representation is rare, to say the least.

the fact that he still tries to ensure that his students can have a semblance of a childhood despite their youth being fleeting to perhaps heal his inner child is something i won’t forget about his character and for that, despite his debut, will make him an eternal favourite among many in my heart.

ah kenjakuuuu. now that’s a difficult one because of the complexity of their character as well as the sheer depth due to how old they are. like because of them, the entire jjk plot line was able to take place and yet they’re not talked about as often. i feel like in some ways, gege made the perfect villain. i loved how unsettling they were when they talked and how it was always just like a slip away from being nonsensical. their unsettling smile that is built from centuries of just… existing, the things that they have to likely know. god. i dunno, it’s kind of attractive? even if they are a brain be damned, the cruelty and methodical aspect of their character just draws me in so bad.

i can’t help but want to always know more about them and i feel like i can forever explore their character for that reason because there’s so much potential to go with. i do understand why people hate on their character though because they are so evil lmao but that’s just evidence of them being the perfect villain, y know?

yuki, hmm. admittedly, i don’t really know a lot of her character because she was never a focus with writing for me. i have a very much later on upcoming yandere piece with her that i’ll study, but i think she’s honestly kind of realistic of a character, all things considered. she haunts the narrative by being a memory with the words she said to geto and for reminding choso that it’s okay to choose humanity which i liked about her involvement which is a pretty interesting scope of how the right words at the wrong time can be perceived to be harmful (what with her being blamed for geto’s dark side/decisions).

like, i don’t have a very in depth opinion of her but i like the way she was involved in the story. if there was more to her background, then it might have been different.

and finally megumi, poor megumi. :( i do feeeeeel like the general fanon conspiracy that claims that megumi shares a parallel with geto is at least true, because he does. my opinion of him is that i think to the younger fan base, that he’s relatable in a tragic way which makes him a well written character as well. i like him because he reminds me of being closed off and refusing to acknowledge vulnerability back when i was a teenager and while i thankfully didn’t have a cursed spirit inhabiting me and pushing my soul down, i think a lot watching/reading can relate to the limbo state his character was in. i think he deserved better from the start, which hopefully with how the ending goes, will never be challenged again.

SO SORRY FOR THIS NOVEL OH MY GOD

[countrymusiclover]

58 - Family Certainty Does Change

Part 59

Family is More than Blood

@melvia-ito @vavafaure1994 @kmc1989 @tallrock35

“Are we going somewhere?” Klaus came inside our bedroom inside the mansion seeing me close a suitcase with some clothes for about a week.  I decided the school was currently safe and that gave me time to think through what had happened between me and my twin brother. 

Shaking my head I picked up my phone showing him the screen with an airplane ticket to New Orleans appearing on it. “I’m going to Orleans to face my brother and apologize.” 

“You’re brother who cussed you out because he had to fall in love with a hybrid werewolf then thought he could face someone more powerful than an Original once he became a heretic.  In the end somehow pissed at you because that bloke can't have children anymore. Forgive me for asking but why would you try to make up with him?” 

Putting a hand on my hip I sent him a slight glare. “Remind me again what you did when you had a fight with one of your siblings. Oh right you dagger them. Unfortunately I can't do that so an actual apology is the way to go for me.” 

“Rae, that's not what I meant.  My point was "are you sure he'll want to see you?” 

My hybrid husband had a point in his question.  For 5 years my brother hadn’t talked to me.  For 5 years his daughter had ran back here so she could attend school with her friends which I knew had to only make him more angry with me, but he hasn't returned to force Andrea back home either. “My mother used to say never to go to sleep angry.  I have to try and make things right between me and my brother.  I don't want an entire century to pass by and we're still not 

speaking to each other.” 

“I'll call Caroline and tell her we're taking a little trip.  Our kids are getting old enough now that they should be able to handle things here for a few days.” Klaus took out his phone going to the vampire blonde leaving me to finish the packing I needed to do. 

The trip from the airport and into a rented car making the drive into the city to visit Cami first before I went to go comfort my brother and possibly see my second daughter who takes care of my grandchild that I haven’t seen for a while.  Walking into the bar the familiar blonde was running around taking different orders from people seeing us rushing around the bar island to greet us. “Raelyn! Klaus! I didn’t know you two were coming into town.” 

“Yeah I felt it was time to travel back to Orleans for a little bit.  And this time it’s under somewhat happier circumstances.” I hugged the vampire blonde who belonged to my former sire line. 

She wrapped her arms around me in a warm embrace. “I saw your brother walking in the Quarter a few days ago.  I tried to talk with him but he just walked the other way. Has something happened between you two?” 

“We had a fight five years ago that kinda broke us apart for some time.  I’m here to hopefully fix that between us.” 

Klaus picked a glass of whiskey that a different bartender had brought him where the three of us sat down at a nearby table to continue our current conversation. “If this was a fight between me and my siblings I would have daggered them for cussing me out the way Jacob did to my wife.” 

“I guess he should be thankful that they only work on an Original.” Cami nervously chuckles. 

Bringing my glass of bourbon to my lips I took a long drink. “Anyway the fight was about him not being able to have more kids like Nik and I magically can.  When I had black magic in my grasp he asked me to use it on him but I refused.  Next thing I knew he left Virginia and came here with Alina and her family.” 

“Well I hope everything goes good for you.” She smiled before we saw more people entering the bar wanting drinks. 

Raising myself to my feet I slipped her a twenty dollar bill leaving her with my husband vamping away once I wasn’t around too many people who would see me use my supernatural powers. “Thanks for the luck, Cami.  I’ll see you two later.  I’m going to find my brother - J! Jacob! Jacob - gah!” I called out into the area standing outside their old hunting cabin that they still owned living in the bayou rather than in the busy city.  I kept calling his name until pain shot through my head causing me to drop to one knee. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Rae?” My twin brother's voice came out of the front door of the cabin with his left hand raised in the air where I knew he was using magic. 

Holding the side of my head I struggled to get my words out too focused on the massive headache. “Jacob, I’m here to talk - not to fight you.  Ahh! Ventuce.” Moving my hand from my head I launched a spell at my brother knocking him onto his back giving me the chance to scramble to my feet.   Jacob vamped behind me and wrapped one arm around my neck holding my back against his front about to snap my neck until I used another spell doing a flip causing him to get thrown onto his back and my freehand pressing down on his chest. “Demeter.  Do you give up yet, J.  I’m better at defense magic than you are.” 

He bared his teeth at me kicking me in the leg launching me onto my back like I had done to him. “Metar - I’ve been practicing, sister.” 

“Uhh! Jacob , I am not going to fight you.  I came here to apologize for not trying to find a way to help you have more children.” 

He glared at me shaking his head no. “You’re just saying what I want to hear.  Tenebris lapsus.” 

“Enough of this - imperium monstrum, immobilus!” He had managed to pop both my knees where I bent them back into place.  Until he tried to vamp away but I froze him in a boundary spell trapping him. 

He struggles to move watching me slowly walk up to the edge of the force field. “Rae, go away. I don’t want to see you.” 

“What if I told you I might have a way to give you and Hayley another child?” 

My brother made a confused face reminding me that I used to be a witch who only used light magic until I met my husband and faced his mother. “You said the only way was through dark magic.  You’re telling me you’d go through that risk for me.” 

“You’re my brother.  I can’t not have you in my life, especially now that we are both immortal and stuck with each other forever.  So do you want to hear my reckless plan or not?” I snapped back at him until I heard footsteps coming out onto the wooden porch causing me to turn my head in that direction. 

The figure that stepped out onto the porch was Alina, holding another baby boy in her arms.  The infant 

had dark black hair like Jackson but my daughter Alina’s eyes.  “Mom, what are you doing here?” She simply stood there with Xavier standing behind her leg. 

“Momma, who is she?” Xavier asked and my heart nearly broke realizing she hadn’t talked about me to her firstborn son.  Maybe I should have just stayed back at the Salvatore School. 

[outofangband]

I’m still sick and so am even less able to articulate what I want but here are some random Morwen thoughts (I wrote the post Nírnaeth part like last week so that’s why it’s somewhat more coherent but yeah hopefully when I am no longer sick I can make some more posts that are actually coherent)

I think Morwen has a visceral hatred of being sick. She hates feeling vulnerable in any way and hates having to rely on others.

Certainly I think before the Nírnaeth she is more able and willing to accept support from her loved ones under some circumstances but illness brings with it a vulnerability that can sharpen her edges and lead her to push others away rather than accept their care. I think she is a very difficult patient. She doesn’t like to admit that she is ill or even weary and she certainly doesn’t like to acknowledge the implications of this.

I just think this is an area where the intersections of her pride and trauma manifest particularly intensely.

Post Nírnaeth of course there is the added anxiety of being even less able to access materials to treat illness or injury. This is something I think about both with regards to anyone in the household becoming I’ll or injured but also with regards to Niënor’s birth (reminder to self to revise my post on that). There are herbs Morwen can grow or gather but going further from the house is dangerous and even more so as time goes on.

Aerin would help as she can (I’ve talked before about her and Morwen both trading herbs and mixtures for various purposes, it’s one of the only things that Morwen can concretely help with) but supplies are extremely limited, her time at the house is limited and Morwen would never ask her for help in the actual treatment, out of pride and refusing to add to Aerin’s burdens. (Also just…Aerin trying to help in the aftermath of Niënor’s birth trying not to think about how she will be expected to go through this for someone she hates. It never ends up happening like that, for reasons I’ve gone into but that doesn’t change the growing dread she feels then)

She’s only aware of Morwen being ill on one occasion where a visit happened to correspond but it bothers her after. She too is acutely aware of Morwen’s increased vulnerability and can only hope that absolutely no one else is.

(On that note as I talked about on my formal post about Aerin and complex trauma, post Nírnaeth Hithlum is a distinctly unsafe place for her to be sick as well)

Anyways I know this isn’t particularly fascinating or anything, it’s just something I think about a lot especially when I’m sick myself.

[tragicromanceisland]

What Happens in Wonderland, Remains

Character x female reader

Chapter Seventeen

Grim had been sticking with Malleus for the past few years. Mainly because he offered a hefty sum of premium tuna. In fact, Malleus had already supplied him with some. He hadn’t eaten so good in his entire life! Or well, that is as long as Lilia wasn’t cooking.

The first time he had Lilia’s cooking, he almost vomited. Lilia, of course, laughed at him.

“Grim, I didn’t know you were so picky.”

“I’m not! This isn’t even edible. Who the heck throws in a whole clove of garlic without crushin’ it first? I’m pretty sure you don’t just throw eggs in stuff either when ya bake it!” He ranted.

Malleus couldn’t agree with Grim more, though he respected Lilia far too much to voice it.

“Grim you’re being far to disrespectful to Lilia.” Sebek scolded.

Grim was honestly tired of arguing with the stubborn halfling.

“Miya! I’m just gonna go to my room.”

“Wait, don’t you wish to hear some news?”

Grim arched a brow as he crossed his arms. “What sorta news is it?”

“It seems (y/n) is back in this world.” Malleus mused.

“Whaat!? And you’re just now telling me Mr. Malleus?”

Malleus placed a gloved hand to his chin as he met the eyes of the hopefully pet of his precious child of man.

“Yes, I suppose I could have informed you sooner.”

“Where is my human henchman?”

“Where indeed.” Malleus smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Grim’s ear flattened he didn’t like the look on Malleus’ face. That meant one of two things: one he knew, and he didn’t want to say. Or he had leads on where you were, and he was about to find out himself.

“Do you plan to go see (y/n) now?” Lilia questioned; eyes filled with curiosity.

“It’s late master, how is it you’ll be able to sufficient pin point the human’s location?”

Silver was barely keeping up with conversation as he kept nodding off at the table.

“I already have an idea where she is right now. Perhaps she is even aware I’ll be coming for her soon.”

Grim smirked. “Alright, how soon are we talking until I see my human companion?”

Malleus closed his eyes in thought. “Perhaps, within a few hours. I’ve been trying to bide my time patiently. Though it seems, I’ve run out of patience.”

You had just managed to calm your thoughts, your eyelids heavy. You could have sworn you saw tiny orbs of yellow green in your room. Your eyes were too heavy to keep open.

Malleus?

Your last thought before you surrendered to your fatigue.

Malleus gazed upon your countenance; he was just as smitten as he was back then. Probably even more so, as his feelings for you had only had time to grow and turn into something much more than before. He brushed his palm over your cheek as his eyes fell to your lips.

“Hmm…how is it, you’ve ensnared me so (y/n)?” His hand moved to pick up a small band of your hair as he pressed his lips to the tresses.

Leona’s ears twitched.

He didn’t want to wake up, but he heard something.

Blinking open his eyes, he peered over at the clock it was now 5 minutes after midnight. He furrowed his brows as he sat up. Quick to stand on his feet, having a bad feeling about what this meant.

He left his room in a calmly manner, though his heart was thundering, afraid of what he may or may not see.

Hastily open your door. His heart sank at the sight before him, a rage bubbling within him, replacing the anxiousness he had felt moments before. The threatening growl that emitted from him only made the one holding you captive in his arms smirk.

“Kingscholar, how unfortunate for you. It seems…” His eyes fell upon your sweet sleeping face before flickering back to Leona’s rage filled gaze. “I’m not as patient as I once believed. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Before Leona could even throw a punch at him, Malleus disappeared in an instant. Leona, frustrated with the circumstances, placed both hands on his forehead. He paced a few times, his arms dropping back to his side as he clenched his fists. He would get you back. He had to think about this. He was so pissed off that he blamed himself. You had disappeared under his roof, and he failed to protect you. He thought he knew this was going to happen.

He wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t beat Malleus in normal situations. He laid on the guest bed, it was still warm, and the pillow smelled like your scented soaps. He would have to prepare to retrieve you from Malleus. He had no doubt he was going to have those minions of his try and keep him from you.

Malleus, you’ll regret messin’ with what’s mine.

The reason Leona hadn’t made a move on you – even though he wished to – was not to become too attached to you. If you didn’t choose him, he would be able to cope better. However, he didn’t expect to already feel this much for you.

~

Malleus arrived back within his castle. Lilia was the first one to greet him.

“Oh my…Malleus, you finally did it. Stealing the sleeping princess, I see.”

Malleus hummed. “Stealing, more like rescuing from a beast.”

Lilia smirked. “Ah, I knew you wouldn’t give up on the young lady. She has grown much more appealing since that time.”

Malleus narrowed his eyes. “She was always appealing.”

“Right, right. My apologies. So…what are you going to do with the lady now that you have captured her?”

Malleus wondered why Lilia was so curious as to what he would do. Then again, he shifted his eyes in thought as he carried you up the stairs.

“Lilia, isn’t it obvious? I shall make her my Queen.”

“My Liege!” Sebek interrupted as he huffed, finally reaching Lilia and Malleus.

Malleus gave Sebek a menacing glare. Sebek flinched.

“My apologies, my lord. I was so happy to hear you had returned and to see the human.”

“Silence, before I shut you up with magic.”

Lilia glimpsed at Malleus with curiosity. He knew Malleus had long awaited the day in which he could reunite with you. He had known a little about the incident at NRC. Though he didn’t know the full story until after you had returned. Who knew that you would come back, and just in time. It seems Maleficent was becoming rather impatient with him.

Sebek followed silently behind Malleus until he halted in front of his bed chambers.

“Leave us.”

“My liege, are you sure this is a good idea?” Sebek questioned.

“Now, now this is Malleus’ decision shall he wish to do what you’re thinking, then it’s up to him. He is a healthy adult, so let’s be on our way.” Lilia explained as he dragged Sebek away.

Malleus couldn’t help but feel his heart begin to beat fasting at the idea. He cleared his thoughts; he wasn’t that aggressive. Well…he couldn’t say that entirely. He could be when he wished.

Inside his bedroom, he closed the door with magic and laid you on his bed. He sat down beside you as you shifted into a more comfortable position. He was amazed you had slept through his and Sebek’s squabbling.

He reached out his hand, brushing over your hair. It took everything in him not to take you away at the gala, and yet Kingscholar had done exactly that. Though he supposed looking back on it now, it was good it was him in the limelight and not the king of Briar Valley. Still, he was a little bitter about it.

He observed your sleeping state. The way your chest gently rose and fell. The relaxed state of your facial features. His eyes scanned you from head to toe. You had turned into a beautiful woman. He felt such a strong urge to kiss you, but would that make you hate him if he did? It was best for him to wait, though he was struggling to do even that.

He exhaled as he turned his attention to the wall in his room. He fully expected the second prince of Sunset Savanna to come take you back. By the time Leona should arrive, he should already have you right where he wished to have you. He had always been able to sway you toward him. Though he supposed that was part of the charm of a fae. He leaned down, your lips soft as the petals of a flower.

When he pulled away, his eyes enlarged as your gaze pierced through him.

“(Y/n)…”

“Malleus?”

Malleus responded with a sly grin, and you knew this could be a dream, but it didn’t seem as if it was. The warmth from the bed you had been sleeping in at Leona’s was gone, and now you were met with cool blankets in a dimly lit green glow.

“It’s been so long (y/n). I truly tried to be patient with you. Though, I’m not sure if I can wait much longer.”

You knit your brows together. “Malleus…are you trying to seduce me upon kidnapping me?”

He chuckled as he lowered his eyelids. “Is that what you wish for me to do? Seduce you?”

He reached out his hand and carded his fingers through your hair. You felt your face warm.

“That’s cheating.”

He smirked as he pushed his leg between yours, hoovering above you on his bed.

“Explain, how my touching you is cheating exactly?”

Your heart was thundered. You couldn’t believe you were in such a precarious situation. You could allow this to continue, or you could stop it. To be honest, you had been awake since Malleus and Sebek began arguing. You had only been feigning to sleep, and that was until Malleus kissed you. You had been so surprised that you opened your eyes.

“Because you make me want to kiss you.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Your gaze held his.

Five years ago, even six. This action, this smoldering look, would have made you become a puddle on the floor. Having been with Vil, spending time with Leona, and now being underneath Malleus like this. You knew this feeling. The question was, did you give Malleus the chance to discover what you knew or play along until you knew you wouldn’t be able to anymore?

Malleus could tell you were thinking of something. He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Tell me what’s on your mind right this moment.”

You shivered from the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“You.”

You watched the surprise in his eyes before his features turned devilish.

“Then you have to know I’ve been thinking about you.”

His lips pressed beneath your ear before, he placed a series of tender kisses down the column of your neck to your collarbone. You couldn’t deny that you felt some of the emotion behind his gentle smooches. You were sure he would love nothing more than to lavish you with affection and receive it in return. However, you also knew it was late. You were almost sure you had made up your mind on whom you were going to choose. Though, you needed to rest more to gather your thoughts properly. Right now, Malleus was only provoking you into staying up for the time being.

“Malleus, let’s sleep first. Then tomorrow, we can do whatever you wish.”

He pulled away and met your gaze. You placed your palm onto his cheek. His reactions were so cute every time you managed to surprise him.

“Whatever?” He questioned as he sat on his bed once more beside you.

You sat up on your elbows. “Yes, whatever.”

He placed a hand on his chin before glimpsing over at you. “You may come to regret saying whatever.”

You only smiled in return. Regardless of what he decided, that would be tomorrow’s problem. Well…later today. However, right now, you just wished to sleep.

“Then, are you okay with me staying beside you while we sleep?”

“I don’t mind.”

At this point, you didn’t. You had made up your mind the moment you gazed into Malleus’s eyes. It's funny how it’s all it took to realize who you wanted to be with. Malleus gave you a soft smile before using magic to change into his night clothes.

The last thought on your mind turned into yet another dream of your possible future.

[em-writes-stuff]

sickness

day two of @whumpcember

734 words

warnings: talking about dying

~

Recording of a letter found for Prince Robert, folded in a book on the Old Kings. Writer is not known, but the name starts with an E. From the little writing on the Prince, my guess is Edward “Echo” Song, the child of a baker, who’s suspected of helping Robert’s brother, Timothy, escape an execution. If it’s not Edward, I don’t know who it would be. 

The letter appears to be 240-250 years old, given the events written about, and the wear on the paper, and is in pristine condition, considering. Some splotches smear the ink, but it’s still readable. 

Let’s get started: 

Robbie, 

   I doubt you thought you’d ever hear from me again. I figure it’s safe enough, with the news of the ban being lifted and your sister taking over the kingdom. Sorry to hear of the king’s death, I know it’s not how you wanted it to happen. 

   I’ve been thinking of writing you this letter for a while, but I’ve been writing others and gotten a case of nostalgia, so I figured it was time. I’m dying. Not using magic the first half of my life drained a lot of my life from me, and I’m getting weaker by the day. Hopefully I’m able to make it through the winter so I can harvest the garlic I planted earlier. If not, it’ll be stuck in the ground.

   I don’t want you to try and track this, not that you would want to, but the only way you’d be getting this is if I died, so I guess that’s happened now. If you did track it, you’d find that I lived a full life, well, as full as it could have been given my circumstances, with two partners I picked up along the way. They’ve done all they can for me and now it’s time I do what’s best for them. So please don’t find them, they’re hurting enough. 

   I have arranged for some mutual friends of ours to make it to the ball together, they should make it the night of and leave two mornings after. I know their presence will cause quite a stir, but I’ve had them vow not to try anything with the riches of your kingdom, bla, bla, bla. Don’t try anything with them, they’re married now. Anyway, I hope you all have fun, eat some desserts for me.  

   I heard about the wife, congratulations. It’s a big deal, I never thought you’d find someone to put up with you. Jokes aside, I’m happy for you. I’ll drink to your happiness next time I get a chance. 

   Spence is safe, I just talked with him a few weeks ago. He lives in a small cottage in a tightly-knit community with a big dog and the other friend who left Terilace with us. She’s not there often, taking more to the travellers life than anything. But, she has a place to hang her gloves when needed, and she’s grateful to it. 

   As always, I wish you the best with the rest of your life, and hope you don’t get too caught up in the nostalgia of our time together. It would be best for you to throw this letter out, reputations and all. But, if you want to keep it tucked away in something, go ahead. 

   With all the love in the world, 

     E

~

Well. 

I can only assume the “mutual friends” referenced are infamous raiders, Kaya Bloostone and Archibald Blair. If I’m right, it seems Prince Robert was tangled up in a lot more than I’ve read about. 

Just as I said, this is most likely written by Edward, I might check with Ezran, seen as he’s the only person still alive to have met him. Damn immortals. They just love to have too much knowledge and hog the head fucking librarian position. 

The letter will go into a new book, tucked in Prince Robert’s section, under the “mysteries of his time” section, and the recording will will be saved, again, according to Ezran’s stupid fucking system. 

Whatever. 

There will likely be more to read on Edward, especially due to the familiarity in the letter, I can only hope it’s more like this, and not anything I’ll have to hide from the entire fucking kingdom. I don’t want to do another one of those. Too much paperwork that’ll never see the light of day. 

Signing off.

[chxckens]

some life updates... this is a big chunky post, just for those who care abt what’s happening w me. i feel like a dvd player

i had a difficult conversation with my mother yesterday where i was able to explain how difficult working has been for me with my health conditions and how i’ve been struggling to keep things like stable income for rent and health insurance because of it. like, i’m on long-term disability leave from work right now but i’m not even sure that i’ll be able to return to working full-time in the same capacity because of my health. and it isn’t a matter of finding a better job or a more flexible job- no employer likes that i keep growing tumors and getting cancer. like, that’s not a particularly good trait for an employee. legally they can’t fire me for it but i feel terrible not being a reliable employee because of it, it makes me feel like shit (even though my self-worth shouldn’t be derived from how Good a worker i am. i know this.)

my mom was taken aback somehow by how deeply it has been affecting me (of course it has. i’m always stressed.) and she actually literally said, “i think that we- that i- have been holding you to impossible standards considering your circumstances.” and that meant a lot. she said, “no, you don’t have to be financially independent right now, fuck it. i have money, move back home for now and let’s just make life comfortable for you.” i can’t explain how surreal it was to hear all that from her because she’s always been the one pushing me to Be Normal (work full-time, live independently, etc.) but i think i got through to her yesterday about how impossible this all feels.

it’s just, like- at this point i have had three separate cancers and i am only 28 years old. i will likely have more cancers down the road because of my genetic disorder. the three cancers isn’t even counting the benign brain tumor i had last december, that was a fucking freebie. nothing about the life i’m living is normal and it was killing me trying to work forty hours a week and keep house and take care of myself on top of all the medical misery.

so like....

i’m not HAPPY about having to live with my mom again ‘cause we don’t cohabitate super well (i love my mother dearly! but i would say this to her face and she would agree- we are both hermits and like having our own space) but there’s a wing of her condo that she’s fixing up that has its own entrance/exit so i can have like. a mini apartment in her condo. hopefully we can figure out enough systems that’ll make it manageable

it is a fucking miserable bummer to have to constantly curb my mother’s plans. she bought some land out in michigan and has plans to build a house out there and she’s been so excited about it and talking about it constantly and i’ve seen the land too, it’s lovely. but now she says she might sell it so she can take care of me. and that’s fucking wretched it makes me want to cry again to think about. but she reassures me, says that the money is better spent closer to home right now. on me. i don’t want her to sell the plot, i told her i’d move out there with her but she thinks it’s too far away from any major medical center for me to live there. because i have my perpetual ball and chain wherever i move- i have to be near a hospital. a cancer center, preferably.

but i can’t complain because it’s huge that she’d be willing to help me survive without working like i have been. and she’ll help me pay for health insurance that isn’t employer-sponsored so i don’t, like, die... that’s huge for me... definitely don’t want to die....

it does make me nauseous, of course, in a survivor’s guilt type of way- i am hyperaware of the fact that the only reason i have this option is because i come from a family with money and that my mother is offering it. i am fully aware of the fact that i would have died several times over if not for the fact that my mother happens to be sitting on enough money to care for me when i’ve been sick and out of work. having grown up with that wealth, it wasn’t until i got cancer for the first time that i was truly radicalized, politically. the system is horrific and even with my immense privilege it is still impossible to navigate when you’re sick/disabled. none of you need me to tell you this, but it is on my mind a lot, especially when it feels like i’m getting handouts like this

so, y’know, there’s a lot of guilt/shame here. and i’m trying to remind myself that this isn’t “giving up” it’s “finding a way to live that doesn’t feel like torture.” i think this is the only decision i can make right now?

i’ll start packing up my stuff and get rid of a bunch of it so that i can fit in my mom’s space. that’s prolly the first step here. the rest, we’ll figure out, i guess? i still feel queasy and like crying about this to be honest. being on my period probably isn’t helping LMAO

[mountttmase]

HIYAA

Missed uuuuu🤭🤭

When Mason moved to Manchester you knew things would be different. You just hadn't realised how different. I ALREADY DON'T LIKE HIM

‘Are you alright?’ You heard a soft voice say, looking up to see a concerned looking guy and under normal circumstances you might have been a bit worried about being alone in the dark with some random man but his presence settled you. You couldn’t make out what he looked like exactly but you could tell he was young and his voice sent an excited shiver down your spine. HI MASEEE

‘Here, have mine. It’s a fresh bottle and it’s unopened I promise’ he laughed, handing it to you and you took it with a smile. ‘I um- I don’t live too far from here, I could take you back there or drop you home’ he offered and you couldn’t help but warm to him immediately. CUTIE PIEE😭😭😭

‘You can come back for me’ AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH THAT'S ME

‘I’ll be as quick as I can. Don’t talk to any strangers while I’m gone’ he winked, making you laugh at his little joke but you sat tight and waited for him to get back. Putting all your trust in a man you’d just met and you weren’t even sure was telling you the truth about coming back. SILLY BOY😂

‘Thanks for this’ you smiled sweetly at him and if you didn’t know any better you thought he might have been blushing before he turned the light off again and started to drive away. HE ALREADY LIKES HER

‘That’s okay. When you went for an extra lap I thought I better keep an eye on you just in case, I know you normally just stick to two’ he explained but then the realisation of what he’d said hit him. ‘And I know that’s probably made me sound like a right weirdo. I’m not stalking you or anything I promise’ he rambled but all you could do was laugh, finding his awkwardness endearing. OMG ITS NOT THE FIRST TIME HE SEES HERRR

‘Please don’t think I’m crazy but I’ve been sort of keeping an eye on you since you first started. I know you’re fine and you can probably hold your own but you never know who’s lurking in the dark’ HE IS CUTE, ISN'T HE???

‘No, I like to watch you jog. There’s a difference’ he told you pointedly and you couldn't stop the wide grin that made its way onto your lips. MASON TONY MOUNTTT

‘Yeah I could tell’ he snorted, causing you to look at him with your mouth agape in shock but his little squeaky giggles made your heart thud. ‘I’m kidding I swear’ AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH YOU LITTLE PIECEEEE

‘But look how far you’ve come since then’ he reassured you, a kind smile on his face. ‘Left me in the dust tonight I could barely keep up’ OHHHHHE IS SOOO SUPPORTIVE

‘Well, y/n, if you ever need a running partner let me know. I know where you live now’🤭🤭🤭🤭

‘I hope you do’ he winked. Was this boy flirting with you? You thought. It only then hitting you that he’d been trying for the whole journey. YES HE IS FLIRTING

He was nowhere to be seen though and after taking a little longer to pack up than usual you got ready to go home a little disappointed. That was until you heard your name being called in the distance and suddenly a glistening Mason was stopping in front of you. HERE HE ISSSS🤭🤭🤭

‘Hey’ he laughed, straightening up so he didn’t look so tired but you could see it had been a long run for him. Small beads of sweat trickling down his flushed skin but his shy smile made your tummy feel warm. ‘I’ve been looking for you’ he admitted shyly and no matter how hard you tried to hold your smile on you couldn’t. THEY WERE LOOKING FOR EACH OTHER 🫠🫠

SHE IS AT HIS, AND HE WANTS TO TALK TO HER

‘Do you um, do you play for Chelsea?’ You asked, seemingly dumbfounded but you noticed how pink his cheeks got. Not really answering the question, just nodding his head over to the sofa so you could sit with him. OPSSS

He sat you down and explained that he did in fact play for Chelsea, that he was injured and that he was going through some rehab and would hopefully be better soon but unfortunately he wouldn’t be able to run with you anymore and you felt your heart sink. PH BABY BOY, I WANT TO HUG HIM

‘I was thinking maybe I could still come and cheer you on though? Or we could hang out here sometimes’ HE IS IN LOVEEEE

‘Oh um, well yeah. I like hanging out with you’ he shrugged, trying to play it off but his confession made your cheeks hurt. ‘I like hanging out with you too’ you whispered, watching his eyes crinkle at the edges and thinking you’d never seen anything better. Your tummy warming at the interaction between the pair of you and it was only then it hit you what a big fat crush you had on this boy. CAN YOU HEAR MY SCREAMS???

He would pick you up after your jogs and take you back to his. Having dinner ready for the pair of you as you learnt even more about each other and you loved everything you were finding out about him. He was kind, humble and a little goofy but also smart in his own way and every time he flashed you that toothy grin you wanted to shout from the rooftops about how much you fancied him. I NEED A MASON IN MY LIFE

‘You alright, Mase?’ You whispered, your question making the corners of his lips turn up slightly before he nodded. Shuffling up in his seat more so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you into his side, almost like you’d snapped him out of his mood by just checking in on him. OHHHH, BABY 🥺🥺🥺

It was a soft kiss, more like he was testing to see your reaction but when he pulled back and your eyes met his again, he was leaning back in to kiss you properly and you felt yourself melt into him as you cupped his jaw and kissed him back just as sweetly. OMG FINALLY

He was perfect and everyday your feelings grew for him even more. He was polite and kind and always wanted to touch you in some way which made your heart sing. Finding him was like finding your missing half so when you received a text from him asking if you could pop over to his after work you did so gladly. Not thinking anything of it until he opened the door to reveal him looking the saddest you think you’d ever seen him look. OHHHH I LOVE THEM

Before you could speak he flung himself at you, holding you as tightly as he could before you walked him inside. Taking him into the kitchen where he proceeded to break down in your arms, telling you his injury wasn’t healing, that he needed surgery and that he was scared. Scared he’d never get back to where he was and that the surgery could ruin everything but in your hold he seemed to calm down ever so slightly. OMG😭😭😭😭😭 MY BABY IS SAD

‘Sorry, you didn’t need to see me like that’ he sniffed, eyes looking up into your as you caressed his cheek and you wanted to tell him it was fine but he beat you to it. ‘Truth is, I’ve been holding it in all day. You’re the only person I’ve really wanted to talk to about it’ he whispered, his face soft as he looked back at you and all you wanted was to kiss him. ‘I feel like you’re the only person I can be myself around’ I WOULD HAVE FAINTED AFTER THAT

‘That’s understandable but they know what they’re doing. And when it’s all over I’ll be here for you yeah? Whatever you need whether that’s company or you need me to cook or clean or anything. You won’t be on your own’ you told him, trying to be as reassuring as you could and from the way he held you a little tighter you hoped it had worked. OHHHH SHE IS LOVELY

You stuck to your word, coming over when he needed you to and helping him out around the house however he seemingly forgot to tell you his family were still there and you had to meet his parents all sweaty after a run. They didn’t seem to care though and were just as sweet to you as Mason was. He’s eyes sparkling with joy and he watched you get along with them. OPSSS, FAMILY MEETING

‘I don’t wanna be without you’ you told him carefully. Putting your heart on the line so you could at least tell yourself you gave it everything, even if he wasn’t willing to do the same. You told yourself if this was the end then you would be okay, these things happen sometimes. OH BABY GIRL

‘I don’t want to be without you either’ he whispered, kissing your forehead gently. ‘I know it’ll be hard but I want us to try to make it work. Even if we just try long distance for now’’ GOOD JOB BABE

‘I know it’s early but I see a future with you. I wouldn’t bother suggesting it if I didn’t think it would be worth it in the end. I really think we can do this’ I'M EMOTIONAL

‘I didn’t think I could feel more for you if I tried but everyday I think I love you a little bit more’ he confessed and you felt your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. HE LOVES HER🥺🥺🥺

‘I love you’‘I love you, too’ you replied instantly. Your jaw aching from how much you were smiling. This conversation could have gone many different ways and even though this is the outcome you wanted you never thought it could have happened. That Mason of all people would want you in his life but you were so thankful that he was willing to try with you. I HAVE ELEPHANTS IN MY BELLYYYY

He was still living in a hotel the first time you went to see him. You ordered room service and sat in between his legs as he showed you a selection of houses he was going to choose from. Telling you he wanted your opinion first as it was a joint decision and thankfully your favourite was his too. THEY CHOSE THE HOME TOGETHER

When the pair of you were apart, you got yourselves into a routine. Texting whenever you could, daily calls or FaceTimes even if it was just to say goodnight and always letting the other know you were thinking of them when you had time. BABIES

Mason’s time seemed to be ever decreasing though but you expected it. New team, new friends, new environment. It was bound to be exhausting and you knew he wanted to fit in so you tried to look past the unreplied message and missed calls as he was so apologetic when you did finally get to speak to him. But as the instances grew the apologies stopped and you just accepted that this would be your life for now. OH MASON....😒

It had been a long week, and it wasn't even over yet. Finishing work half an hour early so you could jump on a train up to Manchester to meet Mason in hopes for a quiet night in but your hopes were dashed about two minutes in the car. MOUNT I'LL PUNCH YOU

‘We’ve got dinner with Rashy and his new girl tonight’ he smiled, squeezing your knee gently. ‘You've got time to get changed and stuff but you’ll have to be quick’ MASON....😒

So you did your best, getting changed and sorting your face out before heading out to some fancy restaurant you didn’t know the name of. Rashys date seemed nice and as much as you tried to look like you were involved and interested you knew you were being quiet. Mostly due to tiredness but also due to the fact you wanted a quiet night in and as usual he’d made you plans that you couldn’t back out of. OH MY BABY GIRL😭🫂

You wanted to say something but it was like each time you tried you couldn’t get the words out. Not sure how to make Mason understand you needed some down time with him and that as much as you loved his friends and family, you didn’t travel all this way every week to feel further away from him than ever. Not only that, the fact he didn’t seem to mind that the pair of you never spent any quality time together made you feel sad as you clearly weren’t on the same page about everything. OH BABY GIRL, JUST TALK TO YOUR STUPID BOYFRIEND

The straw that broke the camels back came around a month or so later. You were already pissed off with him as he’d gone out to a club in the week with some of his single friends and had left you on read until early afternoon the next day. The only reason you knew he was there in the first place was because you saw him in the back of a story someone posted, surrounded by girls, but you trusted him enough to know nothing had happened and when he told you it just slipped his mind as he was with so many people you weren’t sure if you were happy or sad about his excuse. HE DID NOT, NO WAY😒😒😒😒

This weekend was make or break for you. One last chance for him to prove he could put you first but he'd already ruined it the first night. Claiming to pop out for five minutes so he could help Bruno move something but he still wasn’t back 3 hours later. You’d taken yourself off to bed in the end, pretending you were asleep when he eventually got home and cuddled up next to you, biting your lip so hard you thought you might have drawn blood just to keep the tears at bay. I HONESTLY WOULDN'T HAVE GONE...

‘I need to go pick up Rashy, will you be ready by the time I get back?’ He asked but he picked up on your confused face right away. ‘Luke’s brothers friends gallery opening is today, I said we’d go’ I WOULD PUNCH HIMMMM

You were exhausted and in no mood to be around anyone, even Mason at this point so you didn’t move. Just stayed in bed and tried to think of something you could say to get you out of it. Not realising your hour was up until you heard the front door open downstairs. YES GOOD JOB

‘C’mere’ he whispered, pulling you into his body and you held him like it was the last time. In your mind it might be as your future was decided on what his next actions would be but you were surprised when he took your hand and led you downstairs and into the living room so he could get you comfortable on the sofa and wrap a blanket around you. OH MY BABY GIRL😭😭 I FEEL SO BAD FOR HER

‘Okay well Rashys outside. I won’t be too late I promise and just call me whenever you need me’ he whispered and you felt your blood turn cold. NO WAY HE IS GOING.....

You didn’t speak, not having anything to say to him anymore so you just snuggled into the cushion and let him press a kiss to your temple before getting up to grab his jacket. IF SHE DOESN'T GO BACK HOME IMMEDIATELY....

You felt like a prop and you’d had enough so after a cry and feeling sorry for yourself for a little while, you dragged yourself upstairs so you could go pack your bag and go home. You were no rush as you knew Mason would be out for a while but the longer you stayed the more you felt the walls closing in on you. YES, GOOD JOB GIRL, I'M PROUD OF YOU

Mason had only just made it to the gallery, saying a quick hello to a few of his friends before he was reaching for his phone. Wondering if he should call you to check in but in the end he decided against it. Not wanting to smother you and also thinking you were probably taking a nap but his mind was plagued with thoughts of you. WELL MASE A BIT TOO LATE...

‘You alright mate?’ Mason heard from behind him, turning to see Luke joining him with a pat to his shoulder. ‘Where’s y/n?’ HI LUKE, BE OUR WISE MAN

‘No offence mate, but if she’s sick then why are you here?’ Luke laughed, looking at Mason like he’d lost his mind but all Mason could do was scrunch his brows at the older boy. I LOVE YOU

‘Mate, I love you, you know I do but I see you every day basically. As do most of us here. But y/n? She doesn’t get to see you half as much and the one time she needs you you’ve left her on her own?’ LUKE YOURE OUR SAVIOUR

Luke was right, you needed him and he’d left you alone in his house. Sure you visited all the time but it wasn’t full of your home comforts just yet. Anytime Mason was unwell or sad the only thing he wanted was for you to wrap your arms around him and make him feel better but he’d done the opposite and left you to fend for yourself. FINALLY MOUNT FINALLY, THANK YOU

Mason made a stop on the way home, running into Sainsbury’s on the way to pick you up some supplies for you before quietly opening the door. Thinking you might be asleep on the sofa where he’d left you but as he quietly crept in he noticed the blanket you’d been wrapped up in was folded and placed over the back of the sofa, the cushions were sat up neatly and the tea he made you sat on the table untouched. MASON MOUNT I HOPE FOR YOU YOU'LL HAVE A GOOD PLAN OF APOLOGISING

There you stood, eyes red and face blotchy as you zipped up your overnight bag and he felt like he’d been punched in the gut. BABY GIRL

‘You’re sick, I thought you might want me here instead’ He told you, his voice quiet and unsure but you didn’t want to be having this conversation right now. A BIT TOO LATE...

‘What? No, please don't go, talk to me’ he pleaded, taking a step towards you but you shuffled back like you didn’t want to be anywhere near him. MASON...YOU'RE LATE

‘Cause I didn’t know what else to do to make you want to spend a bit of time with me! And even that didn’t work’ you told him, laughing ever so slightly as you placed your bag down on the floor to make your way out but he was blocking the exit and didn’t look like he was going to move for you. OH MY LITTLE GIRL😭

‘Are you breaking up with me?’ He asked, disbelief infused into his tone but you didn’t want to talk to him. You needed to get out. MAYBE....

‘Talk to me, please’ he begged, walking towards you but you stayed rooted to the spot. ‘You wanna tell me how awful I’ve been and scream at me then fine but I don’t want you to go’ he whimpered, falling to his knees in front of you so he could wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your body. ‘I don’t even understand what’s happening, please talk to me’ WELL MASON, YOU SHOULD BE UNDERSTANDING....

All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and tell him things were fine even though they weren’t. You were mad and upset with him but you still cared and seeing him so heartbroken made you feel sick but you couldn’t let it get to you. Instead covering your face as you began to sob into your hands and Mason was quick to get up and pull you into his chest. NO Y/N BE STRONG PLEASE

‘Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right I promise but you have to tell me’ he whispered. ‘No matter how hard it is okay?’ YEAH MOUNT....

‘Apart from an hour or so in the mornings and the same in the evenings, when was the last time we did something just the two of us? The last time we got dinner together just us two? Or stayed in and did nothing?’ You asked and it’s like you could see him trying to recall a time. ‘Everytime I come and visit it’s like we always have to be around other people and I’m not saying I don’t want us to see anyone else but I come here to see you, you know? To spend time with you and it just hurts feeling like you don’t want to spend time with me alone’ MY LITTLE BABY GIRL

‘But I do just want you to myself sometimes. And it hurt a little bit thinking you didn’t want me. I travel all the way here for us to be together for you to want to spend our time doing things with other people. And maybe I sound silly-’ YOU'RE NOT SILLY AT ALL

‘But you should be my priority. You are my priority I promise and I swear I’ll make sure I prove it to you now. Like I should have done this whole time’ he croaked. Tears spilling from his eyes he shut them tightly. ‘Please don’t leave me bubs. You’re my everything, I’ll be nothing without you’ GOOD MORNINGGGG

‘Can we get into bed?’ He asked, sounding almost shy but you nodded, standing up gently and reaching for your bag so you could pull your pjs out but he cottoned on to what you were doing. Instead pulling the top from his body and handing it to you and you took it with a small smile. MMM, I THINK ILL FORGIVE HIM

‘I’m fine, Mase. I’m sorry if I worried you by saying I was sick but I’m alright’ DON'T YOU APOLOGISEEEE

‘Don’t be sorry, I’m the sorry one. The fact that you even had to say all that in the first place makes me feel awful’ he sighed, squeezing your side as you offered him a sympathetic smile. ‘But we’ve got the rest of the night to ourselves now and we can do whatever you want yeah? And all of tomorrow. Even if you wanna just stay in bed the whole time I’ll do it’ HE FINALLY WOKE UP

‘We’re okay then yeah?’ He asked hopefully, and you nodded into his skin. Feeling his whole body relax at your answer before he pulled you in even tighter. ‘I really am sorry. I think I just got a bit lazy and needed a kick up the bum but consider me well and truly kicked’ PERFECT😌

‘Thank fuck’ he laughed, kissing your cheek. ‘I’m starved, left before the food came out earlier’ he winked and you rolled your eyes at him before he tickled your sides playfully. ‘I’ll go make us something’ I WANT FOOD TOO

‘I thought you were ill, I was making sure I’d have everything you need’ OHHHH🥺

This was what you missed. Quality time together where you had nowhere to be and no one to answer to. Where Mason could be Mason and you could be you. Half naked dancing in his kitchen at 7:30pm without a care in the world. YAYYYY, FINALLY

‘I love the sound of my name coming out of your mouth. I love the way it feels when you hold me, just like this. You make me feel safe and loved and whole. And I love that you take me just as I am, no matter what. Sometimes I think I was made to love you and the fact that I could of lost you tonight kills me’ I GASPEDDD

‘Thank you. And I promise I’ll never make you feel like that again. Hand on heart, you’re my priority and I’ll prove it to you everyday’ MM, YOU'RE FORGIVEN

‘I don’t care’ he told you, attaching his lips back to yours but you could feel the smirk on his lips. ‘I’ll burn this whole house down if it comes to it, I don’t wanna stop kissing you’ NAUGHTY

LOZZZZ

OMGGGGG

I MISSED THOSEEEE

THAT WAS PERFECT

I LOVED HOW THEY MET, BUT THAT COULD NEVER BE ME, ME AND RUNNING ARE ENEMIES 😂

I LOVED HER, CAUSE SHE WAS SOOO LOVELY AND EVEN IF SHE WAS HURT SHE STILL WENT AT HIS

AND I'M HAPPY SHE GET READY TO GO, CAUSE IT WAS THE MOMENT TO LEAVE.

AND I LOVED HOW HE APOLOGISED AND MADE IT UP TO HER🥹

THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS WITH US, THATS THE PERFECT END FOR A SUNDAY EVENING 🩷🩷🩷

HI LOVE

Mason was a silly billy in this one but it’s not because he didn’t love her he’s just a people pleaser

BUT THANK YOU I love reading these after like reliving the whole fic again it’s so much fun 🩷

[squoxle]

No Guidance ~ Wonbin ff

🎧pairing: Wonbin!best-friend's-brother x Reader!afab | 🎧wc: 5.9k | 🎧summary: Even though your best friend, Minji, told you that her older brother Wonbin was "Off Limits," that didn't stop you from getting what you wanted. But now that you've done the deed, can you keep your dirty little secret safe? Or will all hell break loose? |🎧cw: slow burn, angst, fluff, crack, smut (mostly kissing, grinding, and fingering), mentions of protected sex, shower sex

Part 1 << ⭐️ >>Part 3

You woke up early the next morning to the sound of the comforter rustling. You were barely able to grasp the fact that you not only woke up next to your best friend’s brother but that you also had sex with him last night.

Was this what you wanted? Yes. But not under these circumstances. “Mmm fuck,” Wonbin groaned as he rolled over to check his phone that was buzzing likecrazy under his pillow. Before you could say anything he had already balled up a pair of clothes and rushed off to the bathroom.

All you could do now is pray that he kept his damn mouth shut...

It was a little after 6:15 am when Wonbin started moving around. As badly as you wanted to talk to him about it, he had already jumped in and out of the shower and left with nothing but a leather jacket, a black beanie, and—of course—his iconic silver headphones. The last thing you heard were the sound of his keys jangling and the front door slamming.

Instead of staying in his bedroom, you thought it would be a better idea to go sit on the couch in the living room. The greatest perk being that it’ll hopefully divert any negative attention. You had to keep a level head. If you were acting suspicious, you looked suspicious.

Unable to fight back sleep, you ended up dozing off again. You woke up a couple hours later to the sound of hushed laughter that was coming from—not to your surprise—Minji and her boyfriend.

“You should probably stop watching me and watch the food instead,” he chuckled from afar.

“Aish! I know what I’m doing,” she spat.

“Really? Because the stack of burnt pancakes you catapulted into the bin say otherwise.”

“Those were test pancakes. No one ever eats them anyway.”

“Especially not when they’re burnt to a crisp,” he smirked.

“Psh, you know nothing about cooking. This is a woman’s job anyway.”

“Oh? So you can make sexist jokes but I can’t?”

“Yup, because you’re a man and I’m a woman. Therefore, as the object of most criticism, I cannot be sexist.”

“Okay, just because you say ‘therefore’ doesn’t mean you’re—nothing…nevermind.”

“No, tell me. It doesn’t mean I’m what?”

“It doesn’t mean that you’re smart,” he smiled nervously. “Wait, what’s that smell?” He asked as the faint scent of smoke thickened.

“Oh shit,” she sighed, the sound of sizzling oil crackling as she ran water on the pan. “This is all your fault,” she chuckled, cornering himself against the countertop.

“How is this my fault? You burned them,” he smiled.

“You distracted me,” she said poking his nose.

“I told you to focus.”

“No you didn’t,” she replied quickly.

“Yes I did. I said stop watching me and watch your food,” he chuckled as Minji threw her head back, remembering that he had in fact told her to pay attention.

“Hmph, whatever. I’m a baker anyways. Not the Pancake House version of SpongeBob,” she shrugged before returning back to the sink.

“I’ll cook the rest of the pancakes,” Sungchan said as he walked over to clean the pan before placing it back on the burner.

Minji washed her hands before walking around the counter to see that you were awake.

“Hey! Good morning. Sorry about last night. We ended up falling asleep,” she said, rubbing your shoulder.

“Ehh it’s alright. So did I,” you reassured her.

“Damn, my brother must’ve been pretty bad if you had to sleep in here,” she said, looking at you snuggled under the white blanket you had wrapped around you.

“Heh, he wasn’t too bad,” you replied. You saw this as a way out and you were not passing it up. If she thought you slept on the sofa, then that’s exactly what you did…as far as she knows.

“I’m guessing he left already too huh?”

“Yeah, he did. Where’d he go anyway?”

“Work, I’d assume. He’s the one paying for this place. I just take care of the little bills like internet and stuff.”

“Breakfast is served,” Sungchan beamed as he walked over to the couch carrying a tray with a bottle of syrup, two forks, three extra plate, three cups of milk (one chocolate for Minji), and one big stack of pancakes.

“Omg finally!” Minji exclaimed. “I was starving to death over here.”

You all took turns grabbing your serving of hot, fluffy pancakes. What shocked you the most though was how Sungchan at his pancakes. Now you understood why there were only two forks.

He folded the pancake like a taco, holding the sweet, sticky syrup inside.

“I know what you’re thinking ‘what the fuck is wrong with that guy?’ Short answer. He’s crazy,” Minji said as she bit into a forkful of pancakes. “It’s even worse when he does it in public,” she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t do it all the time,” he smiled. “And for the record, you’re the crazy one,” he chuckled as Minji flashed him a dirty look.

After breakfast, Sungchan cleaned the dishes before heading out.

“Sorry for crashing your girl’s night again,” he apologized to you both before walking up to Minji and hugging her from behind. “I love you, Mimi. I’ll call you tonight okay,” he kissed her cheek.

“Hmm, okayyyy. I love you too. And thank you for making breakfast for us,” she smiled.

“Well, one day, you’re gonna be doing it for the rest of your life.”

“What are you talking about ‘one day’?” She asked, turning around.

“When we’re married, duh. After college of course.”

“Oh right,” she chuckled nervously. “I keep forgetting about that,” she smiled before rubbing her head.

“Alright well I gotta go now,” he kissed her forehead. “Bye!”

“Bye,” you both said in unison. You didn't really talk much whenever Sungchan was over, not because you were nervous, but because you didn't really know what to say. They we already an entertaining pair

You planned to hang around for the rest of the day, there wasn't much else to do anyway, but mainly because you were waiting for Wonbin to come back home. Of course, Minji didn't mind, she loved your company. Plus she considered this a redemption for last night.

"Chocolate chip this time," she smiled as she placed the freshly baked cookies on the table. "We don't have to worry about dinner either. Wonie said he's bringing home pizza," she said before grabbing a cookie and taking a bite.

"What time is he coming home?" you asked.

"Should be sometime after 5. He doesn't have to work overnight today," she replied as she picked up the tv remote. "Music videos, cooking videos, ASMR, or our show?" she mumbled scrolling through the options.

"Let's just continue our show," you suggested.

"I agree. Let's do that. Otherwise, I'll be scrolling the entire time."

"Umm, where does Wonbin work anyway?"

"Hmm, you sure are asking a lot of questions about my brother...you're thinking the unspeakable are you?"

"What??"

"Are you trying to get closer to him?"

"No! No! I was just curious, that's all," you said trying to save yourself. She wasn't wrong. You were asking a lot of questions. Luckily you didn't ask every single one out loud.

"You know I think of you as a sister. So seeing you with my older brother is EXTREMELY disturbing. Borderline incest--"

"Oh come on, that's ridiculous."

"Look, I love you, but you really can't date him okay. I know I told you all of that crazy stuff before, so now I'll tell you the real reason I said he sucks."

"And why's that?"

"As far as I know, my brother has been in several relationships. And they all ended for the same reason. My brother likes new and exciting things, but the second they start getting old, he's bored."

"Okay, that's good to know, but I'm not interested in him," you lied.

"____, I know you like him. That's why I'm telling you this. No girl has been able to keep my brother's attention for longer than 2 months. I don't wanna see you get your heart broken."

"I won't."

"Please, just leave him alone okay. I don't care about those strangers, but I care about you. You're my best friend."

"Okay," you sighed. "I will leave him alone."

"Thank you," Minji said before hugging you. "Now, let's watch our show."

You and Minji resumed your teenage soap opera while you waited for Wonbin to bring home pizza. Lunch was substituted by a cup of iced coffee with a scoop of ice cream of course.

Though you tried your best to focus on the show, Wonbin plagued your thoughts. Everytime you saw Minji pull out her phone, your heart nearly pounded out of your chest.

Did he tell her?

Does she know I’m lying?

She’ll hate me if she finds out what we did…

*knock knock knock*

Is he home already?

“Don’t worry about that, it’s probably a package or something,” Minji said as your eyes darted to the door.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m waiting on something for my older brother,” she said before turning back to press play. “My other older brother, Seonghwa. It’s a gift for some ceremony he's being honored at. I can't really remember what for.”

“Oh—“

*knock knock knock*

“Open the door Minnie! I’m freezing my dick off out here,” you heard Wonbin shout from the other side of the door.

“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. “Coming!” She yelled as she walked over to unlock the door.

“I didn’t expect him to be home so early,” you said as she double checked by looking through the window.

“Yeah…neither did I,” she huffed before lugging the door open. “Where’s the pizza,” she asked as Wonbin came in empty handed.

“I left my wallet in my room, which also had my key in it. Hence, the reason for me knocking. So I ordered the pizza over the phone and I’ll pay for it when the guy gets here,” he said taking off his beanie and shaking his head.

“Eww. Don’t do that you fucking dog. I don’t want your fleas,” she said, leaning back to avoid the imaginary bugs jumping from Wonbin’s head.

“Relax. If any of us has something contagious it would be you,” he smirked as he stepped out of his shoes. “Anyways, the pizza should be here in about 20 minutes. If I’m not out by then, knock on the door and I’ll tell you where the money is.”

“Hmm…okay,” Minji shrugged as Wonbin walked off to his room.

For the most part, the rest of the night went normal. But after dinner you knew you needed to talk to Wonbin…alone. So, when Minji went to the bathroom you moved quickly and didn’t waste a second beating around the bush.

“Did you tell your sister we had sex?”

“What?”

“I said, did you tell your sister we had sex?”

“No, why? Would you like me to tell her?”

“No, you can’t tell her anything about that. She’ll be so fucking pissed that she’d probably never talk to me again.”

“Relax, I didn’t plan on telling her anyway. My sex life is none of her business. But, now that you mention it...maybe I should tell her," he teased. But the look on your face said everything he needed to know. You were really scared about losing your friend.

"I'm back bitches. Miss me?" Before you or Wonbin could say another word, Minji came bouncing in the kitchen. "What's going on in here," she raised her eyebrow, sensing the tense atmosphere.

"Nothing, I was just leaving," you said as you gave her a little side hug.

"Wait? What? Why," she sighed.

"It's getting late and I got some things I need to work on at home."

"Hmm, okayyy," she hummed.

"Goodnight, Minji," you smiled, blowing her a kiss that she dramatically acted out catching before clasping her hands together and holding them to her chest.

"Actually, I'm gonna head out for a bit too," Wonbin added as you headed through the door.

"Ahhh! Are you kidding me? Now I'm gonna be all alone?" Minji whined.

"Call your boyfriend," Wonbin chimed as the two of you walked out together. "Bye! Love you," He said before closing the door right as she spat out the most genuine 'fuck you' you'd ever heard.

He followed you to his car which was parked near the bottom of the staircase. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm gonna wait for a friend," you said before pulling out your phone.

"You sure? I don't mind bringing you home."

To be completely honest, it didn't take much convincing to get you into his car. Most of the ride was quiet aside from the mellow tone music that played in the background.

"Didn't you have somewhere to go?" you asked as you pulled up to your house.

"No, I just lied so I could get out of the house with you. After all, we're supposed to be a secret," he smirked.

Did he just say we?

"Heh, right," you chuckled.

"I was only teasing earlier," he said as he parked in your driveway. "I want this too," he smiled.

No fucking way was this actually happening right now.

He leaned over to kiss you on the cheek. "Goodnight, babe," he smiled.

"G-goodnight," you stuttered as you climbed out of the car.

Is he really as bad as Minji says he is? Or is she just saying that to scare you away.

"Hey," you heard him shout as you closed the door.

"What?"

"How am I gonna call you without your number?" he smirked before leaning over the seat to pass you his phone through the window. You typed it in before handing it back to him.

He smiled and rolled the window back up as you walked to your door, but he waited until you were inside to drive away.

After spending all that time away from home, you needed to wash up before you went to bed. So you took a quick 15-minute shower while you thought about Wonbin.

Were you guys official now? Or was this just a friends with benefits type thing? You didn’t know for sure.

“I’ll just ask him sometime tomorrow,” you muttered to yourself as you climbed in bed.

*Ring Ring*

Your phone rang from under your pillow. It was a series of numbers that you didn't recognize. But you answered it anyway.

“Who could be calling at this hour?” You thought to yourself before speaking.

"Hello?"

"I couldn't go to sleep without saying I love you," what surprised you more than hearing Wonbin's voice was what he said to you.

"I love you too," you smiled.

"Hmm, I wish I could see that pretty smile of yours," he whispered.

"Huh? How'd you know I'm smiling," you lightly chuckled.

"Because I'm hiding in your closet."

"What?"

"I'm joking. But I can hear it in your voice. I just wish you were falling asleep next to me tonight," he hummed.

"Yeah, me too."

"Well, I'm gonna let you go to sleep now."

"Okay, goodnight Wonbin."

"Goodnight."

You hadn't slept this good in a long time. However, the constant buzzing of your phone woke you up earlier than you wanted. You pulled your phone out from under your pillow to see that Minji was calling.

"Umm, hello?" you grumbled.

"Wake up girlie! We're going on a date," Minji chimed.

"A date? What date? With who?"

"Sungchan and one of his friends. He's really sweet and I think you'll like him a lot more than my asshat of a brother, Wonbin,” the disgust in her voice when she said his name was almost to perfect to be a joke.

"Ugh...what time is it?" You groaned.

"Time for you to get your ass up. Duh! We're going out for lunch."

You pulled the phone away from your ear to see that it was 20 minutes from 10 and apparently your idea of early was a lot later than most people.

"Sungchan and I are coming to pick you up in an hour."

"What--"

"Hurry up and get pretty!"

"Minji--"

"Mwah! Bye!"

"Wait--"

"Love you!"

"Ah--" the sound of the call ending confirmed your attendance on this mandatory blind date.

An hour later at 11 o’clock, Minji and Sungchan pulled up to your house. Minji actually called you 10 minutes ahead to make sure you were ready on time.

*HONK HONK*

You nearly forgot to lock the door as you saw Minji lean across the seat to blow the horn. You hadn't seen her this excited about going somewhere since that one time you and a few other friends snuck into a college party...courtesy of her boyfriend.

"Get in loser! We're going shopping," she smiled as you rolled your eyes at her cheesy acting. "What? I always wanted to say that. We are going to the mall though," she continued as you climbed in the backseat. "I hope you're excited," she turned around, watching you buckle your seatbelt.

"Hey, don't get her hopes up," Sungchan said as he rolled backward down your driveway. "He's a great guy and everything, but you might be putting him higher than he really is."

"Hmm, you might be right. But he's definitely better than my older brother. That's for sure," she said before readjusting herself in the seat.

To be honest with yourself, you were excited to meet this guy. But after last night you didn't know if you could fully commit. Still, you made a promise to yourself that you would try. If not for yourself, at least for Minji. You knew she'd be a lot more welcoming to whoever this guy was than her brother.

When you guys finally made it to the mall, Sungchan pulled out his phone to call his friend as soon as you guys walked it.

"I'm not really sure where he is. So, I'd rather just call him and ask than take a guess and end up walking around for an hour," he said as the phone rang. "Hey, man. Yeah, we just made it here. We're looking for you. Hmm, okay. Alright, bye," Sungchan said before ending the call. "He's near the food court," he said as he tucked his phone away.

The two of you followed him to meet his mysterious dark-haired friend. On the way over, you asked a few questions to get an idea of who he was. Apparently, he was just a few months older than Sungchan. Almost the same height, is interested in acting, and--according to Minji--has super big eyes.

He honestly didn't seem bad, so you tried to keep an open mind.

"Eunsoek, this is ____," Sungchan said, introducing you to his friend.

Yup, he definitely had really big eyes like Minji said. And even though you just met him, you could tell that he was a decent person. On this little mall double date, you learned that he was in school to be an actor, but his hobbies included almost anything artistically creative you could think of. He showed you a few sketches he was working on and swore that one day you had to try his cooking.

Sungchan even chimed in, saying that he almost cooked better than his mom. You almost completely forgot about Wonbin whenever Eunsoek smiled at you. He was just so sweet and charming. He also bought you a slushie from this place that you couldn't remember the name of to save your life.

After the date he offered to give you a ride home, which you declined ONLY because you guys just met today. But you promised that next time he could as long as it wasn't too late. When Minji and Sungchan finally dropped you off at home...there was only one thing on your mind.

You had to decide who you were going to fully commit to. Wonbin or Eunsoek.

Pro: Minji will accept and support your relationship with Eunsoek.

Con: You didn't know about his dating history.

Pro: Minji will hate you for dating her brother and you'll probably never be happy because of it.

Con: You did know Wonbin's dating history and it didn't sound very good.

Pro: Eunsoek is super sweet and charming, and you could really see yourself being happy with him, but...

Con: You wanted Wonbin.

You had to ask Wonbin one question that would determine your next move. "What are we?" you asked when he called you sometime before 11pm.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want to know if you plan on ever being in a relationship with me. Like officially," your heart pounded in your chest as you awaited a response.

"I mean, yeah. Obviously, but it's kinda hard with my sister being against it and all."

"Hmm, yeah. You're right," you sighed. Maybe it was best to focus on Eusoek.

"But, I wouldn't mind sneaking around."

Or maybe not.

For the next two weeks, you and Wonbin would exchange lingering looks at each other whenever you met. Making out whenever Minji left the room, but it seemed like the hot excitement was dying quicker than you expected. You had to do something and fast. You didn't want to lose him. So when Minji asked if you wanted to hang out, you told her you were busy and convinced her to go on a date with Sungchan.

As soon as she left, you made your way over there as soon as possible.

*Knock Knock Knock*

You knocked on the door as Wonbin opened up. "What are you doing here?" he asked, eyes widening in surprise as you walked in. "My sister isn't here right now," he said scanning your body.

"I know. I came over to see you," you smiled softly as his lips formed into a smirk.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you got here," he said before pulling you in for a kiss.

"Don't worry," you started as his lips cut you off. "I caught an Uber," Wonbin pulled back, holding both of your hands before leading you to his room. A place oh too familiar to you by now. This was the first time you'd been in his bed since that night and god did you miss it.

He climbed onto the bed, bracing his back against the headboard as you straddled him. He placed his warm, delicate hands under your shirt, gripping your waist as he met your lips in hot, messy kisses.

You could feel how bad he wanted you as he thrust his hips against you. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he groaned as you slowly began grinding against his growing hard-on. "You're making me wanna tie you to this bed and fuck you so hard that you beg me to stop," he said as he moved his hands down to your hips, encouraging them to move faster, his soft moans filled your ears as he moved down to kiss your neck.

He pulled away to look at you with those lustful doe eyes as he pulled your shirt off, throwing it across the room, landing by the closet door, exposing your violet underwire bra. Without hesitation, he unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor, and revealing your bare tits. He pulled your tit into his mouth and began eagerly leaving marks and trails of saliva all over you.

You moaned at the sensation of his intense sucking. You watched as he looked at you with drunken eyes as he begged for more. He stuck two fingers into your mouth and watched as your lips wrapped around them. He slowly dragged them out before shoving them down into your panties, gliding them between your sticky folds.

He massaged your clit before pulling his fingers out to suck your wetness. "Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he said before sliding back in to finger you. The sounds of your pussy making sloppy sounds as he bit his lower lip. You squirmed as he finger fucked you, your body being fully supported by his arm wrapped securely around your figure. You moaned as he pressed in harder.

"Fuck," he spat as you came close to orgasming, yanking his fingers out.

"Wha--"

"Shhh," he said shoving a finger against your lips, cutting you off. "I think my sister just came in," he whispered as the both of you listened quietly.

"Wonbin?" you heard Minji call out as she knocked on the door. "What's all that noise? Do you have a girl over?"

"Shit," he bit his lip as he lifted you off of his body. "No! I'm watching midget porn," he yelled as Minji cringed behind the door. "You gotta hide. Now," he said as he walked you over to the closet, shoving you against the rack filled with clothes. You barely squeezed in before Minji opened the door

"The fuck happened to you?" Minji asked as she met Wonbin at the door with his hair a mess and sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead.

"Umm--" he stammered before he was cut off by Minji pushing her way through.

"I don't even wanna know. Let's just agree that you really enjoy midget porn," she grinned as she walked to his bed. At this point, you could see her black hair swaying as she moved around. "I thought you said you didn't have a girl over," she spat as she picked up your bra from the floor.

"Uhh. It's mine," he lied.

"Right," she scoffed. "You couldn't fit this if you wanted to," she rolled her eyes. "Where is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied again.

"Mhm. Is she hiding under the bed?" she asked as she bent down to look underneath his bed. Ironically, that was the first place you were gonna hide.

Wonbin remained silent until Minji said, "Oh, then she must be hiding in the closet," she grinned mischievously as she ran over to the closet. Your heart never thumped so hard against your chest in your life. She yanked at the door, nearly pulling it completely open, before Wonbin slammed it shut.

"What did you come in here for?" he asked standing in front of the door, sounding pretty pissed off.

"I left my charger in here yesterday and I need it now," she smiled placing her hands on her hips.

"Then get it and get the hell out," he spat as she walked over to pull it out of the wall.

"I thought you were on a date," he said as she headed out of his room.

"I was, but he had to go take care of something. He'll probably swing by later tho. Oh, and ____ too. He's bringing over some food for her to try. Anyways, I'll be in the living room. Have fun with your little minx," she snickered as she left.

"How am I supposed to get out of here now?" you asked as he opened the closet door. You put your clothes back on as you watched Wonbin pace around the room.

"I don't know...You'll probably have to sneak out through the window," he whispered as he looked around his room for something the use.

You started helping him by searching around his room. “Maybe we could use your bedsheets,” you suggested, hoping that he’d agree with your idea.

“Yeah, that should work,” he said before reaching over to grab the sheets off of his bed. He began tying them together as you struggled to open the window.

*RING RING, RING RING*

“Shhhh!” Wonbin said as the sound from your phone was louder than you expected.

“Sorry,” you winced. You frantically silenced the ringtone as your phone nearly bounced out of your hands.

“Who is it?” He asked in a hushed tone.

You managed to get a grip on the slick device before looking to see who was calling.

“Minji,” you gasped showing him your phone. “I have to answer it,” you wined.

“No you don’t.”

“If I don’t she’ll think something is up,” you said as you clicked the green button.

Wonbin lugged the knotted sheet out of the window as you climbed on the sill. “Hey,” you nervously chimed.

“Hey girl. What are you up to right now? Did you finish whatever it was that you were doing?”

“Umm…not exactly. But what are you doing?”

“Eating popcorn chicken while I listen to my brother wrestle trying to sneak some girl out. See, I told you he’s a hop around.”

“Oh wow. That’s crazy,” you said breathlessly climbing down the makeshift rope.

“Wait, where are you? I hear a lot of wind.”

"Oh, umm...my window is open. I'm trying to--ugh--clean my room," you grunted as you fell to the ground.

"Hmm...It's pretty cold outside to just have your window open like that," she mumbled as she chewed.

"Ehh it's alright, I'm super hot anyways," you said looking up to see Wonbin aggressively pointing to the stairs. "What?" you whispered, waving your hands around.

"GO. TO. THE. CAR," he whisper-yelled.

"Did you say something?" Minji asked as she faintly heard the whispering.

"Umm, no," you answered quickly. "If anything, that was probably my neighbors or something. My window's open. Remember?" you said as you climbed over the bushes that sat outside of the complex.

"Hold on, I'm gonna go scare my brother again," Minji chuckled as you heard her get up before running to his room and pushing the door open. She saw Wonbin standing near the window, desperately pulling the sheets up as she laughed before running to the window, catching a small glimpse at your figure as you ran away.

"How many times do I have to tell you to GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE?!" you heard Wonbin shout as he pulled his sister away from the window before slamming it shut.

He pushed her out of the room before grabbing his keys and walking to the door. You were busy catching your breath as Minji entertained herself.

*BEEP BEEP*

"Hmm...that's strange," Minji said softly.

"What is?"

"I heard the car horn coming from your end of the phone too."

"Oh, that's because I have you on speaker," you lied. You had never lied to your friend so much before in your life.

"Oh, okay--"

"Well, I gotta go now. I'm almost finished. I'll call you after I'm done okay."

"Okay, but wait."

"What?"

"Me and Sungchan are coming to pick you up later."

"I know," you said out of instinct before hitting yourself on the head for nearly exposing yourself.

Fuck...

"You know? How?"

"No, uhh I'm just guessing because you seem to want to hang out tonight."

Nice save, dumbass.

"Oh...umm...okay. Well, see ya."

"Bye," you chimed before ending the call.

Minji still felt suspicious about this situation. Something just didn't seem right. You were lying about something. But what could it be?

Later that night Minji and Sungchan came to pick you up. The ride was dry and stale. You felt like a child in the backseat watching your parents have a conversation that you weren't supposed to hear. The two went back and forth whispering until Sungchan finally said, "Just let it go alright."

Whatever they were talking about must've upset Minji. She didn't say another word until you made it to the apartment. Minji opened the door as Sungchan placed the bags of food-packed containers on the countertop.

"So what's in the bag?" you said trying to break the silence.

"Oh Eunsoek couldn't wait for you to try his cooking, so he made dinner for us," Sungchan said as he looked over to Minji who was wearing a smug expression. "I'll put it on the plates for everyone, let me just go ask Wonbin if he wants any," he said before giving Minji a look that probably meant 'get your act together' or 'stop being silly.' But why?

Sungchan came back a few seconds later with Wonbin. You immediately put your head down, afraid that looking at him would put your thoughts all over your face.

"The food looks good," Wonbin said as Sungchan gave everyone a plate with rice, veggies, and chicken. There were also some sauces on the table to eat with it. "It smells good too," he smiled. "Who made it?"

"Eunsoek, one of my friends. He and ____ are probably gonna end up dating or something. He just can't stop talking about her," Sungchan's words caused Wonbin's smile to crinkle at the ends as he thought about what he said.

"Yeah, he wants to take her out on a date again soon," Minji added looking at you and Wonbin.

"Well, you can tell him I said thanks. I'm gonna head out for a bit," he said before getting up to wrap his plate up and placing it in the fridge.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from calling out his name. You wanted him more than anything...

"Ugh...thank god he's finally gone," Minji sighed.

"I don't know if you're upset about Wonbin having another girl over, but you shouldn't be. Like Mimi told you, this is the way he's always been," Sungchan said trying to comfort you.

"Exactly, and Eunsoek actually wants to be with you," Minji added.

You tried your best to look happy as you ate Eunsoek's surprisingly good food. But you couldn't shake Wonbin. Was he hurt? Did he hate the fact that another guy was interested in you? Was he jealous?

*zzt zzt*

Your phone buzzed as you saw a notification from Wonbin pop up.

[ 4 unread messages : Wonbunny ]…

ur keeping secrets now huh?

what r u doing? trying to make me jealous?

i wonder how much ur other boyfriend would like to see me fucking ur brains out

maybe we should make a video...tonight

Delivered 9:57pm

You quickly replied to his messages, trying your best to keep the smile off of your face.

i'll try to get out of here after we finish dinner

i'll text u after they drop me off

Sent 9:58pm

It wasn't long before Wonbin replied back saying a simple,

k

To no one's surprise, the two of you had sex as soon as he entered your house. This was the first time he had been there but he made sure to fuck you on every surface.

You felt like he was draining the life out of you while he fucked you till he was satisfied. Especially when he came all inside of you. This time he remembered to wear a condom, but you could still feel the warmth as he filled you up. He had scratches all over his back from you.

He ended up falling asleep in bed with you, but not without whispering, "You're mine" in your ear as you fell asleep.

It almost felt like endless honeymoon fucking when he woke up the next morning eager for a round two. Then lazy fucking in the shower, before you got a text from Minji saying that you were going on a movie date tonight.

Wonbin seemed to be taking a lot of interest in you, but are his feelings genuine. Or is he just fighting for the thrill that comes with being with you? He told you to keep seeing Eunsoek as a cover, but Wonbin would always be your number one. The cycle of emotional manipulation in this chaotic love triangle is insane.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @nikisdubblchococake @mrswolfhard3 @hynjinnn1 @melobin @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry

[firstkeptdaughter]

“Letting someone see you that vulnerable, it’s a scary thing.”

There she is. Oriana. She still has the same eyes as she did nineteen years ago when Miranda held her in her arms, a frail, small infant back then. Looking into the young woman’s face is almost like staring into a mirror; they’re identical. Genetically. But Oriana looks different, regardless, with an expression in those otherwise identical eyes of someone who hasn’t seen the kind of things that Miranda has. Fortunately.

Miranda made sure of that, those nineteen years ago, by saving her sister from her father. It’s a decision she will never come to second guess.

Miranda instinctively smiles as she looks at her sister. And just, like Oriana did as a baby, she returns that smile in an instant. Her adoptive parents are with her, loving parents that Miranda carefully chose because Oriana only deserved the best. She’s done it. She’s given Oriana everything that she could never have. A normal family, a normal life, friends.

Then, she turns to leave. The movement feels as if one of two magnets attracted to each other were pushed back with such force to prevent them from touching. It took every bit of strength she had in her to leave Oriana. Memories of the moment when she, a sixteen-year-old girl, had to leave Oriana behind, come to the surface. It had been the most heart-wrenching decision of her life.

“It’s for the best”, Miranda asserted. “Oriana has a normal life. I’ll just complicate that for her. The less she knows about me, the better.”

She cannot hide that insecurity in her voice. Miranda wants to sound pragmatic, but she can’t. The desire to get to know the sister she had been watching over from a distance for nineteen years is palpable in her voice. Shouldn’t she? Miranda couldn’t imagine the happiness from even just one conversation with Oriana, but how selfish would it be? Once she became part of Oriana’s life, there was no return.

But, if she stayed, she would hurt Oriana sooner or later, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t like her sister. Miranda had a reputation for being ruthless and cold and in a way, it was true. As much as she loathed Henry, Miranda saw parts of him inside her. And she couldn’t let Henry near Oriana. That extended to the parts within her.

Yet, for some reason, her squadmate manages to convince her to talk to Oriana. With a few mere words. Normally, it takes a chain of well-funded arguments to convince Miranda of something, and even that could prove futile. But when Kaidan argues that Oriana should know she has a sister out there who loves her, Miranda merely nods. “You’re right”, she speaks, softly, her voice not resembling her usual tone one shred. It’s strangely tender.

It’s only when she returns, she notices that her cheeks are wet with tears. Had Kaidan noticed? Hopefully not. She wasn’t comfortable crying around people. It’s the reason why she has avoided looking into Kaidan’s face since laying eyes on Oriana.

“We’re done here”, Miranda declares, back in her usual professional, authoritative tone. As if she didn’t just go through one of the most meaningful experiences of her life. “Oriana is safe. My father won’t be able to track her down anymore.” She assured, with her back still turned towards her squadmate. With a subtle movement, she wipes away the tears from her face with the sleeve of her catsuit. Then she takes a deep breath and turns to Kaidan.

She’s about to tell him they should head back to the ship, but then Kaidan speaks up.

“Letting someone see you that vulnerable, it’s a scary thing.”

Damnit. She wants to huff, or roll her eyes, but she can’t. The lieutenant and his tendency to say such profound things in the rare moment where it has the capability to affect Miranda.

In any other circumstances, she would’ve shot back with a witty remark. Something along the lines of her not being vulnerable. But in those very circumstances right now Miranda isn’t able to come up with anything like that.

“I guess so..”, she hesitantly agrees, crossing her arms in defensiveness. “I’m not good with ‘vulnerable’. Typically I can solve my problems through more scientific approaches - or with a simple bullet.” She quipped wryly.

[heartintact]

Ivy could’ve laughed meanly in her face, and it still wouldn’t have surprised Farrah as much as her acceptance did. She’d been ready to use all the weapons, from pouting and batting her lashes to promising to do her assignments for the rest of the year. Instead, she didn’t find the opposition she’d anticipated. Nodding with relief, two of her fingers drew an imaginary zipper over her mouth as soon as the raven-haired girl told her to shut up. Which was probably a good idea, considering how tempting it’d been to point out that she looked kind of cute giving orders with such ease. It’s not like it was the first time she noticed, though; that night, in the midst of the fear and the tiredness, her mind couldn’t help but stop and admire how beautiful Ivy looked with her arms around her, asleep and finally relaxed once the nightmares were over. Of course, that sort of thought was going straight to the pile of 'stuff that shouldn’t be mentioned during their interactions’, for both of their sakes. Farrah couldn’t be sure if Ivy could tell how much it meant to her that she’d decided to actually go inside the house and help out, but hopefully she’d be able to do it, ‘cause it was the kind of feeling that she couldn’t put into words. She might have to send Ivy a huge fruit basket before Christmas if she kept saving her ass so often. “Absolutely! Great! We’re totally done after this. I’ll make sure to keep my guilt admissions away from my phone.” It seemed like the least she could promise. Technically, she could’ve guaranteed to do something more meaningful, like losing her number, but after what they’d been through, that felt messed up. “We shouldn’t really take that long; I already know where he kept the spare key. And hey! You get to snoop around a bit; you never know what tests from other courses you’ll find.” She was joking now, a glint of playfulness that had been missing from her gaze in the past few days finally emerging again once they started walking. “In my defense, I think you’ve found worse things about me than the ones I know about you now. It kinda sucks that we never talked before this, because I really believe, in other circumstances, we could’ve been friends... like we went straight to the sharing-secrets-and-horrible-memories phase without even wanting to.”

Ivy pursed her lips at the very fair and sarcastic outburst she got in return for being so... obtuse? Frustrating? She knew this was never going to be easy, but she'd had some real hope until today that they could have just left this whole thing behind them and pretended that everything was just fine. All opportunities had been dashed with the announcement of their professor's suicide. Ivy was frustrated too. She knew she'd been doing something morally questionable, stealing those tests, but she hadn't actually taken anything. This time. Exhaling, Ivy gave in, because she was right. Someone had killed him. She couldn't try to gaslight them both about it. "Right, but we don't know anything about that, remember? And honestly talking about it anywhere is just..." She exhaled. "At least you didn't text me about this, you remember that we can't have any conversations anywhere that can be traced, right? So no three a.m. guilt admissions." As if she didn't already make that very clear. Still, she was maybe being a little harsh when Farrah had every reason to be worried. Leaving things alone and hoping for the best wasn't a solution. Ivy's eyes were drawn down to the strap of her bag as the other girl played with it, clearly nervous and asking for something that was a big deal to her. Reluctantly she listened as she elaborated. Her relationship with their professor — Jonathan, she wasn't gonna get used to calling him that — was clearly complicated. It was secret, obviously, but she clearly wasn't that attached to him considering how his death hadn't... shattered her. Ivy hadn't asked, but she was curious. Clenching her jaw, her brows furrowed and she groaned, pushed by the mention of what exactly she'd been doing that night they'd both been in his office. And maybe her saying please, but not really. "Fine, okay, shut up. We can go over to his place. And obviously I'll help, I'm not gonna uselessly stand on guard outside. We get in, take whatever the fuck you're worried about and get out." She decided, grasping to pull her in so she could look her in the eye. "But after this I'm done, okay?"

[turnupswritessometimes]

VaNoe - Waking Life 7-11

Vanitas didn't return to the hotel room straight away.

He took a long walk by the river, hunched into his coat, feeling like he needed a shower. Felt a bit like a tomcat out all night, but it wasn't even dark yet. His neck throbbed, and he felt light-headed. It wasn't fun, when he was left alone after. Jeanne had walked him to the end of the alley, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief demurely, her face crimson.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Vanitas had pulled his collar up to cover the mark.

Jeanne paused. “Are you…alright?”

He’d laughed. He hadn’t been able to help it. She’d never asked him that, no matter what the circumstances of her feeding had been. She’d made sure he hadn’t died, out in the cold, but she’d looked at him since as if he was nothing more than a rat. Laughing shook off the thoughts of knowing Noé had seen.

“Of course.” He grinned “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He expected that glare, but instead she huffed. She tugged at her kid gloves. “You’re never honest, are you?”

It made his grin fall. “No.”

They were still stood in the street and it was bustling. They were mainly ignored, but they received a few stares and raised eyebrows; people wondering what they were doing standing in the mouth of an alley. An older woman took in Vanitas’ clothes, and tutted.

No, he was never serious, because that was dangerous. Seriousness led to vulnerability. It was what led him to get so close to her – and to Noé, and was giving him all these conflicting feelings. Made him feel like his stomach was churning and flooded his insides with guilt.

Jeanne was quiet. The sun caught her silver eyelashes. “I wish you would be.”

He pushed the churning and guilt away. He’d worry about Noé later – he’d hope that he was wrong, and there had been no one on the roof. He’d hope that it was something they didn’t need to talk about and could move on from. Instead, he took hold of Jeanne’s hand.

“Oh, my dear.” Vanitas brought her hand to his mouth. “Where’s the fun in that?”

This time, along with the sigh, she rolled her eyes. Tugged her hand from his grip. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Hopefully in a life and death situation.” He flicked his ponytail over his shoulder, and stalking off first. Headed to the river, and tried not to think. Didn’t think, but still felt.

Eventually, he had nowhere else to go. It started to drop dark, and his absence would be noted by the hotel staff. That could mean trouble with Count Orlock. It could mean Noé noticing he was avoiding him. As if Vanitas had something to hide. Something more than usual to keep a secret. There was always the chance that he was wrong; that they hadn’t been seen.

He slipped back in, turning to close the door, so his back was to the room. Took a breath.

"Did you save me supper?" he asked, not turning back. He kept his tone light, as though nothing was wrong.

"No." There was the shuffle of a page being turned.

Vanitas looked over his shoulder. Noé sat on the bed, legs crossed and a book in his lap. He didn’t look up.

Vanitas tilted his head, and ducked his chin. "Are you cross with me?"

Noé's mouth twitched. Either up or down, it was hard to tell. His brows drew together. "Why did you say I should follow?"

"I said you could." Vanitas leant against the door. "Not should.”

That wasn’t what he was looking for. Vanitas continued, “I thought it would be – I thought Jeanne would have something important to say. I wanted you to hear, if it was important."

Noé gave a scoff. He turned another page.

"I didn't know that's what she wanted," Vanitas said, again.

"It was obvious. In Alto-Paris too. Its obvious, what the two of you do together." Noé looked up, scowling. Angry. Really angry. Then he took a breath, and turned back to his book. "It doesn't matter. I don't care if you’re sweethearts."

“We’re not.” It came out as a snap. And he kept snapping, "If you don't care then why did you follow?"

Noé paused. His shoulders humped, as he took another deep breath. "Maybe I hoped I was wrong."

He hoped that wasn't what Vanitas was doing. Definitely not now there was this between them. That was his own fault, then. He had a much higher opinion of Vanitas than he did himself.

"I didn't want you to see that." He twisted his fingers round his ponytail like a rope.

"You don't care." Noé closed his eyes, lashes catching the light so that they looked translucent.

"That's—" Not true. Why couldn't he say that? It was so simple. But the word stuck in his throat.

"I've said it doesn't matter. You can do what you like."

"I didn't like it!" His cheeks felt hot. He tugged at his ponytail, so that it stung.

"It didn't look that way!" Noé was blushing too. He stood, running his hand through his hair, his tone too low and too even. "I understand. This is different. This—” He gestured between them. “isn't even something to you."

"You're wrong!" It came out much too loud and much too honest. He yanked at his hair again, and bit his cheek to try and find the words. It was much harder now, because those violet eyes had finally turned towards him. "I think you're wrong. I know...being with Jeanne...is different from being with you."

Noé let that sit for a moment. A long, painful moment where Vanitas debated leaping out the window. It would be easier if Noé just got truly angry with him. If they could argue like normal people.

"Different how?" Noé murmured.

"Maybe..." He stepped forward. "Maybe it means something. This."

His stomach overturned itself at the admission, as though it was trying to pull it back in. It was too late. The words were out and those eyes were on him and Noé was stepping closer.

"Vanitas." His voice was softer, even if Vanitas stayed scowling at the floor. He hated this: emotions. He gave his hair another yank.

Noé stepped closer, then back.

"Ah. Put a ­– bandage."

He did glance up then, to see Noé covering his nose and mouth. His cheeks were crimson underneath his fingers, and he was looking pointedly at the ceiling. Right. His neck was smeared with blood and the wound Jeanne created wouldn't have healed. He was torturing Noé just by standing there.

Vanitas stepped into the bathroom. Closed the door and took his time to wipe away the bloody smears on his neck. It left his skin as white as porcelain, with the bite mark an angry crack. He pulled his collar back up. Pulled the ponytail onto that side.

Noé was sat back on the bed, when he came out, biting his nail. Scowling at the floor.

"I'd let you, you know," he said. Maybe he did feel bad, even if only a little. Because Noé had watched the one thing he could never do. "If you weren't you."

If he didn't see Vanitas' memories, then he would be up for it. If those kisses were anything to go by, then his stomach fluttered. He imagined, for a moment, Noé blushing like Jeanne did, mouth open wide enough for his fangs to be obvious. Noé looking at him with the need to drink his blood.

Damn, he thought.

"That's what everyone says," Noé murmured.

It took Vanitas a moment to get back on track. (Now he knew how Noé felt.) Of course, there couldn't be many who'd want Noé's power. Even Amelia had seemed hesitant and scared of it.

Vanitas didn't know what to say. Guilt was pooling in his stomach, and he didn't want to have this conversation anymore. He started to the window, intending to climb out and spend most of the night on the roof. In the morning, things would go back to normal. That was how they worked. They bickered and argued, then continued like none of it happened.

Noé grabbed his arm as he passed. He stood, using those inches he had over Vanitas to his advantage.

"Vanitas." There was a line between his brows.

Vanitas wanted to smooth it out. To explain that he really hadn't meant for Noé to see that, and it had ruined the whole thing. That he didn’t want to keep anything from him, and that was why he’d said for him to come along. "You are cross with me."

"Of course I am." Noé's voice was barely more than a whisper. His fingers tightened.  "You're not even sorry."

He was. He was sorry that he'd gone off and sorry that he'd let her. He was sorry that Noé had seen. Vanitas opened his mouth, but the word wouldn't come out. It was like a foreign tongue.

"You won't even apologize." Noé looked less angry now, and more hurt.  Hurt and frustrated.

He couldn't apologize. But his hand did raise of its own accord, just nudging Noé's cheek. He cupped it in his palm.

"I want to," he whispered. But apologising was not something Vanitas was capable of. Instead, he let his fingers start to drop from Noé's face and murmured. "It's different. With you."

"You said." Noé's voice was still cold but he caught Vanitas' fingers.  He waited for the explanation. For him to continue.

Vanitas stared over Noé's shoulder. "I'm not good with emotions."

"I noticed."

He got a glimpse of those amethyst eyes, before he had to look away again. "I'm worse with talking about emotions."

"I know." Noé still waited. He still held Vanitas' hand, even as he tried to tug away and push past to the window. He had a hand on the sill, picking at the white paint and trying to find the words. Ones that needed to show he cared, even if it was completely against his instincts. But he didn't want to ruin this – whatever this was.

"I don't feel with her," he whispered. "I feel with you."

"You could have said no." Noé's fingers loosened.

Vanitas held onto him more tightly. "She wasn't...in her right mind."

It wasn't fair to expose her to anyone else. Not when it was a life and death secret and he was sure that something had happened to Noé that day he was alone. Sure that he was easy prey for anemone to get information out of, because he was trusting and polite. Vanitas changed tack, instead. Turned and leant against the windowsill, tilting his chin down and hiding behind his hair.

"Besides she could easily overpower me. I'm just a human." It was true, even if he didn't think Jeanne would force herself on him. Every time he was with a vampire, he was aware of how frail he was in comparison. He was aware that even Noé, his best friend, could manhandle him easily.

In essence, there was something to that. Because Noé was usually so composed and polite, to see him forceful and dishevelled would be something. The thought of being held down by him made his stomach flip over. But in reality, it would lead to shouting, blood and hurt. It could lead to killing each other.

Noé took his other hand. It felt like trapping him. Making sure there was nowhere he could look, or go, apart from staring back.

"I would step in," Noé murmured. "I'd always save you, Vanitas."

Even after he'd gone off with Jeanne. Even after he was prickly, snappy and couldn't admit how he felt. Couldn't even apologise.

His fingers were limp and his chest sore. "Why?"

A moment's pause. Noé bit his lip. He let Vanitas go. “Je ne sais quois.”

Vanitas laughed. It burst out of him. It took all the pain with it.

At least Noé did too. His reserved chuckle. It wasn’t even obvious they were both leaning forward until their foreheads bumped against each other. Foreheads, and noses, and then they were very aware of the space between their mouths.

Vanitas pressed forward, and pressed their lips together, softly. That was his apology.

Noé let him; his breath a sigh on Vanitas’ cheeks. “You don’t feel anything with her?”

He closed his eyes. “Not like this.”

"But you still let her—"

"Yes."

"But you liked it?"

Vanitas didn't answer. He didn't need to. He kept his eyes closed and did not touch Noé, so that he stayed floating in the darkness. Yes, he had liked it. He had, but not like that. Liked it as a sensation. Liked it before there was this thing.

So he kissed Noé’s cheek, instead, and stayed close enough for their lashes to brush together. "I'm still..."

Still figuring things out. His emotions and what it meant and how to talk about it.

Noé sighed. Not angry, but wistful. His hands trailed up Vanitas' sides, and he kept his eyes closed until they found his shoulders and gently pushed him away. Gently stared at him, lost in thought. It made Vanitas feel like a scolded child. He stared back, unflinching.

"Tarte tatin," Vanitas whispered. "I'll get you some."

The corner of Noé's mouth lifted. "Are you trying to buy me with food?"

It seemed as though he was on his way to being forgiven, whether he believed it or not. It gave him the courage to twist Noé's cravat around his fingers.

"Only if it will work?"

Which gave him that exasperated, confused smile there had been that morning after the ball. The morning they'd fought on the bell tower. The kind of look that baffled Vanitas, and made his heart jerk like a puppet on a string.

"What am I going to do with you?" Noé asked.

Vanitas twisted the cravat again, and raised an eyebrow. It drew Noé closer.

"I can think of one or two things."

Noé hesitated, just for a moment, before he closed the gap between them. At the last moment, he veered away from Vanitas' mouth, and kissed his cheek instead. It felt like a more tender, intimate thing – the kind that sweethearts on the street did – and that hurt his chest more than it should.

He took hold of Noé’s shoulder, and kept him close, so that he wouldn’t be able to see his facial expression. It wasn’t an apology, but it was an apologetic gesture. And he was lucky that Noé understood that, and him, and he still didn’t have to say sorry. Which just showed how sappy he was becoming.

Paris, and Noé, were not good for him.

*

Vanitas left the tarte tatin at the end of Noé's bed the next evening. He'd brought it earlier, kept it hidden, and waited until Noé was asleep to put it there. He didn't want to deal with any more emotions. Didn't want to admit this was an apology.

At least, he'd thought Noé was asleep.

"Vanitas," a voice murmured.

"It's not Vanitas." And he raised his arms so his coat would billow around him. "It's le fantôme des tartes."

Noé sat up, and laughed. He shook his head, hair shining in the starlight. "Stop being silly." He sat up, reaching for the matches on the side, and lighting the bedside lamp. It turned the silvery light amber, casting a soft glow over the both of them.

He raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you'll stop roundezvousing with Jeanne?"

Vanitas' throat closed up for a moment. No, he realised. He couldn’t say that. Because he'd made her promise and she was taking him seriously. They had this deal now and if they came out of it she might stab him for the trouble.

"I did something foolish." he admitted.

Noé had already pulled the tarte box onto his lap and was unboxing it. He smirked, as he said it, "That doesn't sound like you."

Vanitas caught his chin. Tilted it up and those amethyst eyes were wide in surprise. He liked Noé like that; shocked and blushing.

"I hate you," he said. Because there was a niggling at him now.

"Do you?" Noé smiled. Paused, then gave a hesitant kiss. Just for a moment. "Why do you hate me?"

Vanitas pouted. "Because you tease me."

"And yet you tease everyone else.”

"Because you're so earnest and you believe everyone wants to be friends,” he continued.

Noé tapped the end of his nose. Deliberately with the finger that he’d been poking at the tarte with, leaving a syrup smear. “I was right before, wasn't I?”

Vanitas wiped it off. “Not with Alstolfo.”

Noé sobered. He tilted his chin into Vanitas’ fingers, eyes half-closing. Then he glanced up, lips parted. His voice was barely more than a whisper, “What else do you hate about me?”

His stomach rolled over. It was obvious that ‘hate’ meant the opposite, and he didn’t want to think about that. He watched Noé’s hands on the edge of the box. “You’re going to eat that now?”

Noé grinned. “Why not?”

“I hate that you're a child.” But his fingers were playing over Noé’s cheek, fiddling with that sliver hair.

“Sit with me, Vanitas, and I’ll give you a bite.” Noé took hold of his elbow. Gently guided him down to sit next to him. He did, still trying to pout. It was easier to pretend he was the one wronged. To press his mouth against the hollow of Noé’s jaw and feel his breath stutter.

“It’s too sweet,” he murmured.

“Like me?” Noé asked, smirking. He’d gotten bold.

“Is that what your lady friend tells you?”

“Stop it.” Noé nudged him with his shoulder. “I can hardly compare it to you.”

Vanitas wasn’t sweet. Not at all. He toyed with the end of his ponytail, and wondered if Noé was sweet. Sometimes. When he was in a good mood. Rarely with Vanitas – unless he was flustered about the kissing situation.

He looked at Noé’s profile in the lamplight. That strong nose and silvery eyelashes, as he started on the tarte tatin slice with the café’s wooden cutlery.

“If I was a desert, what would I be?” Vanitas asked. Knocked his boot against Noé’s foot.

“Tarte au citron,” he said, immediately. Smiled, somewhat sheepish. Sharp, was the word that sprung to Vanitas’ mind from that. Sharp and sour. Then, a pause. “Or tiramasu.”

“Tiramasu is good.”

Noé raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, as he took another bite. “You have terrible taste in desserts.”

Vanitas laughed. Loudly. “And you have terrible taste in boys.”

Noé caught his chin then, and turned him with strong fingers. Vanitas' heart stumbled over itself like an eager puppy, as he stared back. How could Noé do that? How could he still catch him by surprise?

"No," Noé said. "You're wrong."

And when Vanitas opened his mouth to vehemently argue, he found a forkful of tarte tatin pushed there instead. Sticky and sugary. Noé held it there until he gave in and took the bite. Turned away, sharply, so there was no way his warm cheeks would be seen. It really was too sweet – sweet enough for his teeth to hurt. Sugar swilled on his tongue. It was hard to swallow.

“Even though I’m naughty?”

Noé paused. He was halfway through the slice. “Yes. I suppose.”

Vanitas glanced over, drawing a knee to his chest. “You need to get out more.”

“Maybe.” Noé toyed with the edge of the dessert. “Maybe you think too highly of me.”

“What?”

“What did you do that was foolish?” He’d hoped Noé would have forgotten about that, but he asked as he continued on the tarte.

Vanitas murmured, "Don't make me tell you when you've just forgiven me."

"I've forgiven you?"

"Haven't you?"

Noé paused, fork hovering over the tart. "I'm starting to.”

Which was more than he deserved, really, so he didn't push it. Only murmured that he would try not to when Noé asked if he would do it again. He let Noé finish the slice, and stood up to go. To climb outside the window until it was safe to climb back in and catch a few hours rest.

But before he did, he looked over his shoulder. "What bad have you done?"

Noé looked up with eyes like jewels. "Stay with me."

Lay next to him. Close. And quite possibly stay there all night. He swallowed, but his throat was dry. "I don't like to."

"Liar." Noé 's fingers took his. His un-gloved fingers.

He could see through Vanitas. But he didn't hate it. Actually, maybe, he liked being close to Noé. Liked feeling safe and liked being held. But it was Vanitas - and Vanitas didn't like to be touched.

"It's true." But he didn't move. Didn't pull away, because he never did, and certainly not when Noé was standing in his nightshirt. When he was trying not to look at how the hem of said nightshirt had ridden up to show tanned thighs. Did not think about how the shirt was low enough to show Noé 's collarbone and the start of his chest, and how that seemed very different now that they'd kissed. How it sent shivers over his skin.

"I'm not ready to go to bed," he murmured.

They were stood so close he could smell the sugar on Noé 's breath and the musk of him. His heart fluttered.

Noé raised an eyebrow. Raised a hand, and tugged Vanitas' bow loose. He let him. Let him untie it completely and it fluttered to the floor. Let him pop open the essential button of his coat, and even slipped his arms out of it so that it fell, an empty shell. To gently tug his shirt from his breeches, the touch making his stomach flutter and squirm. His breath hitched, and Noé smiled. Then let Noé lean down and untie his boot laces. When he stood, he was blushing.

Noé took his hand, the unmarked one, and ran his finger over where his glove disappeared up his shirt sleeve. It was a question.

Vanitas shook his head. No. He’d seen them before, but not again. It was enough that he would do this. That he would lay next to him.

Was that what he was going to do?

"Are you ready for bed now?" Noé whispered.

Vanitas pressed their lips together. Just once. He had to. And it was easier to stay close to whisper, "I am."

Noé paused, then kissed him in return. Let Vanitas mouth trail down his jaw and gave a sharp intake of breath. Right. Noé was inexperienced with this. Still, he pressed his mouth against Vanitas’ cheek. Lingered there like a butterfly on a flower, before kissing the hollow of Vanitas’ jaw.

Which made his fingers tighten in Noé’s shirt. Not so inexperienced, after all.

The actuality of it was a lot less graceful. Was climbing under covers and Vanitas kicking his boots off and for a moment being a tangle of limbs as they sought to slot against each other. Noé at his back, with his hand over Vanitas' waist. Vanitas taking hold of that with his gloved fingers and listening to his heart roar in his ears. He was doing this. It wasn’t terrible. His lips and jaw still tingled, where Noé’s mouth had been.

"What bad have you done?" he asked again. They were close. All of them, touching, their legs curled like quotations against each other.

"I haven't done things I should have." Noé turned into Vanitas' hair. "I let people down."

"Not...not me."

"These were important things.” He paused, breath barely more than a whisper. “A last wish."

"The other De Sade." Dominique's brother. The Nameless One. The curse bearer.

Noé made a sound. He didn't say anymore. It left Vanitas' mind whirring. What was it? Why was it so bad? Bad enough for Noé to be concentrating on it so many years later. What else was there, to show Noé was not the perfect country gentleman he always seemed to be? That interested Vanitas. That there was hurt and pain he didn't know about yet. Who was Noé, really? With the De Sade’s and before.

The possibility that Noé was just as broken. Perhaps just as broken as he was.

It would mean he wasn’t alone.

8

Vanitas woke just as it was getting light.

He didn't usually sleep for so long. Never with someone's arms around him, because it made him feel trapped. This wasn’t like that, and he didn’t know when that shift had happened. Noé lay flush against his back, curled around him like speech marks, breath ruffling Vanitas' hear. When he half-turned, he saw spidery shadows over dark cheeks, eyelashes translucent in the morning sun. Saw pink, parted lips as Noé slept.

His stomach lurched.

Enough. He gingerly lifted the arm from around him and slipped out from underneath. Brushed fingers through his hair until he couldn't remember how Noé's fingers felt in it, and retied it. Then he sat on the roof with his chin on his knees and sulked; even if he couldn’t place just what he was cross about; just who he was cross with; he sulked.

He half-watched the sun rise, and half-dozed, until Noé stuck his head out the window and asked if he wanted breakfast. He did. They ate at the hotel. Black coffee, croissants and pain au chocolat.

"You avoided my question, last night," Noé said. "When I answered yours."

What had Vanitas done that was so foolish? He tore the end off his croissant, and thought that it was fair. After that secret, that Noé had done a good thing. It might even be good if Noé hated him for it.

"I made Jeanne promise to only drink my blood." He sipped bitter coffee. "And she's foolish enough to go along with it."

Noé paused. Added a fourth sugar to his coffee, and Vanitas’ teeth hurt to look at it.

"Maybe it matters to her,” he finally murmured. “Promises."

“Are you cross?” Vanitas asked. Because he had to know.

“I should be.” Noé looked cross about that. That there were just as many shoulds he was having, that Vanitas felt better about his.

"Do promises matter to you, Noé?" Their shoes nudged, under the table.

Noé stared back at him. "Do they to you, Vanitas?"

"I asked first."

"So?"

"This—" Vanitas leant across. Closer than he should, but the dining hall was almost empty. "Is why I don't like you."

Noé laughed. Then kissed him – only for a moment – and he pulled even further away after, biting his lip. Embarrassed. Vanitas blinked.

"Dominique will kill you," he said.

"Dominique is not my keeper." But Noé bit down harder on his lip, as though punishing himself.

"Does that mean you'll tell her?" And when he received no answer, Vanitas laughed, loud enough for people to look over at them.

Noé's cheeks were pink, but he still raised an eyebrow.  "Does she know everything you and Jeanne have done?"

Vanitas downed his coffee. "It's not as much as you're imagining. A few kisses and a few bites. And it didn't mean anything. I said"

"That makes it worse, you know." Noé was serious.

"Would you rather I did feel something with her?" Vanitas' foot trailed up Noé's leg. Remembered him in his nightshirt the night before, and his stomach fluttered like a butterfly.

Noé didn't move. He looked back at him. His brows drew together, as though he was finding it hard to concentrate. "I suppose not."

Vanitas' shoe traced higher. He saw Noé stiffen. Saw the blush on his cheeks darken as he pointedly looked out the window.

He kept flirting, because it gave him the upper hand. "Do you want to catch up to her, darling?"

Noé cleared his throat. Kept his hand there, in a fist. "You wouldn't let me bite you."

But he was thinking about it, because those violet eyes flicked to his neck. Completely hidden.

"I'd let you kiss me." As though they hadn't already, and as though Vanitas wouldn't reciprocate. "I'm sure it would be more pleasant without being forced to drink at the same time."

Noé looked at him then. Then chuckled – like a child – pushing Vanitas' foot down. It landed with a thump.

"Jeanne kissed you just to make you drink water?"

"No." But he'd already admitted it.

Noé still laughed, covering his mouth, and that made it worse. "You're hopeless."

"No, I'm not." Vanitas leant forward.

"I thought you were experienced—"

"I am. More than you."

"If I asked you to drink water, would you?" At the same time, Vanitas asked, "do you want me to show you?"

They both caught each other off-guard. And they had caught the attention of the few other diners. They stared at them, then their eyes narrowed as they saw Vanitas. His appearance was unorthodox, and no doubt if they were vampires they’d tell he was human. Nothing about him belonged in a fancy, Vampire hotel.

He flicked his hair over his shoulder.

Noé noticed The stares too. "Let's go."

"I was going to say that." But he did stand first. Took the final bite of Noé's pan au chocolat from his plate.

"Well, you were too late." Noé stood too. There was a moment, where they both stared at each other. A challenge. Then they moved as one, jostling to take the lead as they left the dining hall. Not all out pushing, because they were still in public, but Vanitas tried to keep a step ahead.

It attracted more looks. Some angry murmurs. Yet he found it hard to care when he was grinning and when he meant that grin.

Shit, he thought, as they escaped the hall. He meant it. The grins and the laughs and even the kisses. Dangerous. This was a dangerous game. His mind kept repeating that, but he’d yet to bring himself to do anything about it. To stop playing with fire.

He was in the led as they reached the stairs, glancing over his shoulder and tossing his hair to make sure that Noé stayed behind him. That his hair was in danger of hitting him in the face.

Noé caught up to him in the corridor. Caught his arm, and Vanitas found himself pushed against the wall. It was a surprise. Because Noé tossed him at their enemies but he never used his strength so casually. Never used it against Vanitas.

Vanitas' heart stuttered. He looked up, feeling small.

"How many times have you kissed Jeanne?" Noé asked, seemingly oblivious to his strength.

Vanitas had to think. Hated that he had to think, but his mind was on that determined look on Noé's face. Was stuck between finding it endearing that he was so serious, or finding it attractive.

"Four or five."

"And we've kissed twice—"

"Three, if you count breakfast."

"I don't. So—" Noé didn't hesitate. He pushed forward, sealing their lips together with that childish determination.

Vanitas found himself pushing back against the wall. Wrapped one arm around Noé's shoulders to keep him close, and tangling their hands together. His eyes closed, and he kissed back. Wanted to kiss back – did kiss back – because Noé may not have been kissed before but they still took his breath away.

How foolishly romantic.

"Three." Noé said against his mouth.

"This is risky," Vanitas replied. "You'll ruin your reputation."

"The hallway is empty." And Noé pushed forward to kiss him again, his mouth moving to find the best angle to slot into Vanitas'. He moved back, feeling a soft sound in the back of his throat that he swallowed down. Didn't know whether to tell Noé that two kisses in such close succession really only counted as one. Maybe, if that meant he got another.

Didn't want to think, when they were like this. When he could entangle himself in Noé. Why had he stopped himself from doing this?

When they did pull away, breath heavy, Vanitas murmured, "But, you see, I've kissed Jeanne and she's kissed me."

Is there a difference?

Vanitas caught Noé's chin. "Absolutely."

And he deliberately kissed the corner of Noé‘s mouth, so that he turned to catch Vanitas. Deliberately nudged his way down to the hollow of his jaw and kissed there, instead.

Noé's hands tightened in his coat and he made a soft-sound. That was better. It was better when Vanitas had the upper hand. He smirked. Pressed his tongue against Noé's neck and felt him shiver. Felt him press into Vanitas, and he had to go onto tip toes in order to keep his place.

Hated that Noé was so tall. He gripped his arms, let just his teeth graze that sensitive skin. His heart was racing. This, he realised, could be what all those squirms in his stomach amounted to. Racing heart and blushes could lead to feeling like this when he kissed someone.

Shit.

Vanitas pushed the thought away and bit down. He worked on the love bite, almost methodically, feeling a soft sound from Noé in his hair.

“That’s not fair,” Noé whispered, though he wasn’t pushing him away. His hands wrapped around his back and held them close. “I can’t…do the same.”

“Exactly,” Vanitas murmured. “Jeanne’s bitten me as well as kissed me, you see.” He leant away, tucking a strand of silver behind Noé’s ear. “So I’ll just have to bite you, instead, my dear.”

Noé’s eyes widened, lavender in the light of the corridor. He wasn’t so dark he couldn’t go brilliantly pink. His hand went to the red mark on his neck, and Vanitas couldn’t help licking his bottom lip. Watched Noé watch that. Smirked.

“No one’s ever bitten me like that,” Noé said.

Vanitas blinked. Almost laughed. “How many times have you been bitten?”

“Several times since we met.”

Vanitas softened. Pushed back another loose strand of Noé ‘s hair and thought about it. There weren’t many times that he knew of, but perhaps Noé just hadn’t told him. He didn’t like the idea of that, that Noé was keeping secrets from him. Even if he was keeping several of his own. That was different.

“I don’t have to bite you,” he muttered.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” And then Noé turned truly crimson, and ducked his head. “It was different.”

“That’s because I’m human.”

Noé smiled. That soft smile that made his heart stumble. He twined their hands together.

“Come on,” Noé said. “Before anyone else leaves breakfast.”

Like a romantic couple, Vanitas thought, as he followed. A secret tryst in a hotel. What a normal boy his age would do in Paris. Holding hands was Romantic and soft and all the things he was not.

"Four kisses." Then he leant down and made it five. Lingered just a moment for Vanitas to kiss back, but not enough for him to get into the rhythm.

"You're getting bold," Vanitas said. Because this boy hadn't kissed anyone, before him.

"I am." Noé's eyes sparkled. "I've found I quite like kissing you."

"You sap." He tried to step past him, flicking his hair over his shoulder.

Noé stepped to the side to catch him – actually caught his waist, like they were dancing. "But you like it too."

He did, and it annoyed him that Noé could tell. He did like kissing Jeanne too, but she still didn't know where she stood. It would be easier if he was with her to call that nonsense. It was much harder with Noé

Vanitas avoided the answer. He trailed his fingers up the front of Noé's waistcoat, tugging a button. Tugged the ribbon around his neck out of place.

"Maybe."

And managed to slip past him, trotting down the corridor. Feeling very like Murr when he deigned to catch a mouse or cockroach and show it to them.

Noé followed, of course. "I think you rather like it all. Despite your protestations that you'd despise anyone who loved you."

Despise didn't cover it. Pity. Disgust. They were more apt. He still thought that, because no one could ever love him. It would be a tragedy for them. Would be Vanitas being completely selfish.

"But you don't love me." Vanitas glanced over his shoulder, unlocking their room.  "You said you don't even like me."

Noé put a hand on the door, above his head. He should feel trapped. "You're an acquired taste."

Noé couldn't like him. No one could like him. Even worse if his feelings grew any further than that. Which was just what kissing bred. It made all sorts of emotions spring up.

So he should stop. He should become unlikable. He should say something terrible and break Noé's heart so that he'd never like Vanitas again. But already his hand had hold of Noé's chin. Already his thumb was rubbing over his pink lip and noticing how handsome Noé was. Fairy tale handsome.

"So's tiramisu." He leant forward, having to use his tiptoes to just graze Noé's lips with his own. He moved before they could make four kisses five. Ran the tip of his tongue over Noé's jawline just to hear him gasp, before he reached his neck. Again. The other side.

And again, kissed him before he used his teeth. Focused on the feeling of that, of Noé's breath catching, rather than him not denying liking him. Maybe the opposite.

Impossible.

And impossible that he could like Noé back, genuinely. He didn’t feel anything genuinely. He pressed his tongue against warm skin. Because he couldn't break Noé's heart. Couldn't even toy with him like he did Jeanne.

"Two," Noé murmured.

Vanitas didn't pull away. "Quoi?"

"That's four kisses and two bites." Noé's hand travelled up his back. "How many times has Jeanne bitten you?"

It took him a moment to count. He did, by pressing each finger against the small of Noé's back.

"Four."

"Oh."

"What?"

"I thought—"

"It would be more?" He leant back, against the door, nudging his leg up. Just against Noé's, and he flushed pink. "How many times have you bitten Lady Dominique De Sade?"

"That's different."

Vanitas rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."

Noé stepped back then, frowning like it he couldn't concentrate.

"My – I only see someone's memories the first time I taste their blood. I drunk Domi's when we were children."

So he didn't have to deal with the mess of disclosing his power beforehand. Of asking. Noé was decent. That made this all worse, because once again, Vanitas should have hated that.

"Ah."

Noé took Vanitas' ponytail, trailing it through his palm, as though it was Murr's tail. He almost smiled.

"So, if you let me once—"

Vanitas twitched it out of his grip. "Not even once."

Once would do enough damage.

"I know." Noé almost pouted. Looked like a child who wasn't allowed cake for breakfast.

Vanitas rolled his eyes. Did not allow himself to think of Noé's teeth. Noé's fangs. Noé biting him and how it would feel like fireworks, surely. If Jeanne had felt like that, Noé would feel—

Vanitas tapped his mouth.

"You're one kiss down, darling."

It distracted him, as it should. Noé blushed. Took his time tilting Vanitas' chin up, as though he was suddenly nervous. Kissed him once again, his lips parted.

Obviously, he took full advantage of that. Kissed Noé back open-mouthed, and went as far as running his tongue over his bottom lip, before his hand opened the door to the room. Before he let himself fall away from Noé, still smirking, and revelling the look of utter surprise on his face.

This wasn't bad. It was wonderful to teach Noé about kissing. He could get used to it as a dalliance. As a tease. If he ignored the way his own heart was racing. That he felt warm and he hoped he wasn't blushing.

That he was glad he'd kissed Noé just as much as he'd kissed Jeanne, because they meant something. He'd admitted that.

It wasn't as bad as he'd thought, having it mean something.

But it would only come back to bite him in the neck.

*

Noé cried out.

Vanitas' ears pricked up. He dropped down, onto the windowsill, perching there like a gargoyle to see an empty room.

Noé was in the bathroom. He stuck his head out, hair catching the morning sun and creating its own dawn sky. His shirt was open.

"You didn't say it would leave a mark!"

For there were two dark red marks, one either side of Noe's neck. They were only small, little more than nicks. But they were there, and Vanitas had made them. His stomach flipped.

"You think you biting me wouldn't leave a mark?" He still had Jeanne's, on his shoulder. That rose-like shape that he was now wishing would hurry up and fade. What would Noé's be? Had he left a mark on anyone? On Dominique? On the other De Sade sibling?

“That’s different.” Noé’s mouth was open enough to see his fangs; the reason why he was so different. “I couldn’t help that.”

Vanitas leant closer. “What if I wanted to leave my mark on you, cherie?”

Noé raised an eyebrow, still rubbing at his neck. “Cherie?”

“Cherie. Maybe I want everybody to know that you’re mine.” Vanitas hopped off the still, stalking over like Murr. (Who was watching, unimpressed, from the bed.)

“Liar.”

“I’m not.” He closed the space between them, and didn’t let his gaze drop from Noé’s exposed collarbones. He’d stared the night before, but he stared again. A sharp line, with shadow at the hollow of his jaw. Vanitas wanted to bite there to. Felt, suddenly, the urge to press his mouth against every part of Noé Archiviste. “Let me see.”

Noé didn’t, at first. He kept his hand firmly over the mark, even as Vanitas tugged at his wrist. But he did, eventually give in. Eventually, let Vanitas tilt his jaw away and examine the little red mark. He’d done that. On Noé’s pretty skin.

Vanitas rubbed his thumb over the mark.

Noé winced.

“Liar,” he said in return. “That doesn’t hurt.”

Noé poked his tongue out, like a child. "You bite hard."

"Didn't draw blood." Vanitas' hand trailed. How much could he get away with?

"No." Noé sighed, and shadows played over his exposed chest. "I've had quite enough of people drinking my blood."

"Oh?" Vanitas managed to tear his gaze away, and up. "Who else has been nibbling at you, Noé?"

He paused. Ran a hand through his hair, and then took a seat on the bed next to Murr. Stroked him, and Murr responded by nipping at his fingers.

Eventually, "Chloé did."

Something sharp went through Vanitas. A bitter, angry feeling. Not quite jealousy, he didn't think so, more like he wanted to protect Noé. (How pathetic of Vanitas.) Didn't want that girl to have been anywhere near him.

"You didn't say." Vanitas sat too.

"You didn't ask."

"Why would I ever think to ask that?" Vanitas asked. He stroked Murr too, who also nipped as his hand. "Who else has been at you?"

Noé didn't look at him. "Amelia. Domi, of course, and..."

Vanitas heart lurched. "And?"

"I thought..." Noé frowned. "it must have been a dream."

So of course he thought of that afternoon with Jeanne. Of running home in a panic to find Noé still asleep on the floor. He wasn't teasing now.

"Are you sure?"

"It feels like one." Noé shrugged. "I can't remember anything else."

He couldn't press any further, then. And a part of him didn't want to. He wanted to continue this Paris romance as though there was nothing bigger happening. He poked at Murr's toes until he got scratched.

He still had to ask it. “What about the other De Sade sibling?”

“Yes.”

"And you have the gall to scold me about Jeanne," he muttered.

Murr, tail swishing with anger, got to his feet. He looked between the both of them, grumpy, before he leapt off the bed and stalked away.

"Are you jealous, Vanitas?" Noé leant closer to ask. He bit his lip. "Will you get your own back?"

Vanitas paused. Took in the line of Noé's cheekbone and his exposed neck. The two small, red marks that fit so well on him. The start of his chest that suddenly, absolutely, fascinated him. It was like a switch had been turned on, now that he'd let himself notice Noé, he was completely obsessed.

"Yes,” he decided. “I will."

And Vanitas bit Noé's collarbone. Nipped at it and immediately felt hands on his back, clutching his shirt. Immediately felt Noé gasp, but lean into the touch. He pressed his tongue against there too, tracing the shape of it.  Found the little mark from the previous morning and kissed over it.

Vanitas made sure to get to four bites. Did an extra, for luck, because it made Noé bury his fingers in Vanitas' hair. They were half-lying on the bed now. He was only propped up by lying on Noé’s chest, and he was on his elbows, one hand splayed on Vanitas’ back.

That was the mark he wanted there, he thought.

“I don’t want you to be nibbled at,” Vanitas admitted. “When, I’m assuming, you didn’t ask Chloe to.”

“I didn’t want to drink Jean-Jacque’s blood either.”

Of course. Vanitas hadn’t known that, either. But of course he had, to know that he was the beast – how else? Why else would he have been stumbling around in tears.

Vanitas didn’t reply to that.

“But at least we know their story now,” Noé murmured. “I can remember them.”

“The answer is still no.”

“I know.”

Vanitas rubbed his thumb over the marks, new and old. “Tell me, if that happens again.”

Noé raised his eyebrows. “So you can bite me again?”

“So I can take revenge.”

Noé laughed. He fell back, entirely, on the bed, taking Vanitas with him. He reared away, his stomach leaping into his throat. Too much. That was too much.

“Sure.” Noé’s fingers toyed with his hair, like he was Murr patting a toy.

Vanitas let him. Knew this was closer than he’d ever intended, but couldn’t bring himself to care. So he would play dangerously, play with fire, even if it meant getting burnt. It seemed to be worth it, to feel that something in his chest.

To let himself believe, however fleeting, that he was not as terrible as all that. That maybe what he’d told himself for so long, were lies.

9

They got Noé home between them. Him, Dominique and Jeanne, whilst he slept. And if Vanitas had an ounce of energy he would have that was just like him; to be on the floor when they needed him the most. To be in a dream.

He didn’t think anyone would have laughed, if he did.

But Noé – Noé would have looked up at him with those violet eyes wide and shining, like he was the answer to a prayer. (Some prayer.) Would possibly, probably, have tears streaking down his cheeks. Would have grasped his arm, as if it wasn’t cracked and cursed, and pulled himself up to keep fighting.

Would he still – and how could Vanitas – after today –

He did not think about it. Couldn’t think, at all. His mind was full of a thick, heavy fog and he made no attempt to see or feel through it. There was nothing that he wanted to remember. Nothing that he wanted to dwell on.

They all only spoke to help get Noé back. To make arrangements home. Maybe it was good, that it was Noé. He was the only one, out of the four of them, who would bring everyone together. Anyone else would have led to bickering in some fashion.

They got back to the hotel, and lay Noé on his own bed. The bed that Vanitas crept into, when he was still investigating that warmth that drew him to it. The feeling he got in his stomach.

He was ready to fall right on top of Noé.

“I’ll take care of him,” he said.

Dominique didn’t reply. She stayed still, staring down at him.

“You need to rest.” His voice was a dry, cracked thing.

“So do you.” Though her eyes didn’t leave Noé’s. It was impossible to tell how she was feeling.

It was Jeanne, who decided it. Who put her arm around Dominique’s waist and pressed the two of them close.

“He can manage. They can manage. You need to rest.”

They can manage. As long as they were together. Anger rose through the numbness, at that. At Noé. At himself. At him. They were meant to work together.

“What if – there’s trouble?”

“Count Orlock,” Vanitas replied. And, he wanted to say, he would die before he let anything more happen to Noé tonight.

Maybe she knew that, or could see it on his face, because Dominique nodded. Kissed Noé’s cheek, and let herself by guided away. He could feel Jeanne’s stare on him. Wondered if she would do the same to him if he looked at her and showed how tired he was.

Vanitas didn’t look over.

He had enough energy to lock the door. The window. To pull the curtains. That was it. Everything hurt and the fog had only gotten thicker. He had just enough state of mind to think that maybe Noé didn’t want Vanitas next to him, after everything, so curled up at the end of the bed instead, resting his head on the end frame.

And didn’t know anything more.

Not until he heard a sharp gasp and tried to open his eyes. It was too bright – much too bright – daylight. His tongue was too heavy for him to form words.

Hands on his shoulders, and his name being said. Not as though Noé wanted to kill him – of course – that could never happen. He’d proved that. It made Vanitas want to weep – of course – he already had. His eyes were sore and puffy from that. A sound came from the back of his throat in reply.

Noé didn’t say anything. But he lifted Vanitas as easily as if he was Murr, and put him in his own bed. Wrapped the sheets around him, and he made another sound. Just like Murr, he thought, trying to stretch and failing.

Then it was back to the nothingness.

*

It was evening again, when he woke. He managed to untangle himself enough to see the room again. Their room. Just as they’d left it, with Noé’s spare boots and stocking sprawled across the floor. With the higgledy-piggledy stack of books in front of the bedside table.

With Noé. He was stretching and grimacing; rolling a shoulder and then palming at it to find where it hurt most.

He noticed Vanitas sit up.

“I don’t think anything is broken.” Noé’s voice was raw. “Or that I have any bad wounds.”

Vanitas nodded. That weeping feeling was still there, and he wanted it to go away.

“And you?”

He shook his head, but in truth he didn’t know. Everything still ached. He was still angry – angry that after everything – everything – Noé had still been tender enough to put him in his own bed. Still cared about him.”

Noé stood, with a sharp hiss. He pressed a hand into the small of his back. “I’m going to wash.”

Vanitas nodded again, and buried his face in his knees. Heard the water turn on and Noé groan as he felt the warm of it against his bruised, battered skin.

He felt tears sting his cheeks. Actually stung, like bees. He brushed them away until they stopped.

Noé spent a long time in the shower.

Vanitas sat on his bed, and listened. Listened to the sound of the water rushing and the blood pulsing in his temples. Stared at the wooden floor, and did not think. He would not think. He could not think. Could only sit, and stare, and listen to that water. It was so hot steam curled out from under the bathroom door.

Noé had taken a change of clothes in with him. When he did emerge, when the sun had fully set, he was completely clean. He lit the gas lamps. The amber light made his pale hair glow. Made his skin look like bronze, shining against a clean shirt. Clean.

Vanitas stared. He wanted to start turning the gears in his head again, but he couldn't get them started. His name was said, and he wanted to look up. Wanted to smile like nothing was wrong and tease like he usually did, but he couldn't move.

He couldn't move.

Noé was closer to him now. He could see there was still a scrape on his cheek that hadn't completely healed. Still a bruise on his jaw. Not so clean, after all.

"Vanitas," Noé said again. "Chéri."

Vanitas blinked up at him. He would not think. Not think about any of it.

"Shower." Noé took his elbow, and helped him to his feet. He didn't resist. It felt like being a marionette doll. He was led to the bathroom on legs that were too steady. They should be unsteady. They shouldn't be able to hold him up.

Noé pulled the door to. "I'll be here..."

Vanitas didn't reply. He took one step by himself. It felt like a huge effort. But it brought him to the hot water. Too hot. At first, it felt like it was burning his cheeks. Like it would melt his skin like wax.

No, he realised, after a moment. He was the cold one. His fingers and toes were completely numb. He closed his eyes, and felt the water thaw him. It ran over his hair. Through his hair.

He thought, then. Of Noé's hands in his hair. Plaiting it. Thought of Noé's hands around him, one on the back of his head, to keep him safe. Even as there had been that great crack, and he’d known – that wheel fell – they would both be dead.

Thought of Noé's hands attacking—

His clothes were wet. He needed to take them off. He fumbled, with fingers that felt as though they weren't his, to peel off the layers. He left them in a pile, kicking them just out of reach of the shower drain. He pulled the tie from his hair, then took hold of the shower head. Just to keep him balanced.

Vanitas stood underneath the water, and let it wash over him. To take the blood and dirt and everything else from his skin. He closed his eyes so he could not see his body – couldn’t see the marks that wouldn’t be washed away – and rubbed at his face with his free hand. It still stung. Several cuts or bruises that gave a dull ache to show they were there.

He had to have stood in there as long as Noé. Maybe longer. At one point, there was a soft knock, and he thought he was being checked on. Thought that Noé was going to swoop in and stop him doing something stupid.

Instead, a voice said, "I've left you clothes."

Noé was not saying much. What was he thinking?

What was Vanitas thinking?

Don't think. It was easier not to think.

He still didn't feel clean, even as he stepped out of the shower. Even as he looked back and saw the white tiles were stained brown and the plug was clogged. Even as he dried himself with a towel that was too soft, and pulled on the clean clothes that had been left.

Noé hadn't forgotten the gloves.

He was in the room. Stood, by the window, with his back to Vanitas. He looked taller than usual. Powerful.

When he heard the pad of feet, he turned. He stared at Vanitas.

Vanitas stared back. His brain had thawed slightly. Enough to start functioning again, but not enough to think.

"Do you want to talk?" Noé asked.

He'd asked it before. When they'd been through an awful lot. It was almost laughable to say it now.

"Where would we begin?" Vanitas' voice was cracked. Shattered like glass.

Noé almost smiled.

"I didn't—" Vanitas took a breath that was sharp. Sharp as glass and it stung his lungs. "I didn't kill—"

Noé stepped forward. And he knew Vanitas didn't like being touched - he knew that – and also knew it wasn’t true. Not anymore. Because he didn't flinch away when he felt those arms around him. When he was pressed against a familiar chest and when all he could smell was Noé. Sugary sweet, like tarte tatin. His shoulders started to heave. It was difficult to breathe but he would not pull away.

Noé's grip tightened. Vanitas' own hands went to his back. Tried to grip him, as though they couldn't remember how. He just wanted to keep breathing.

Noé murmured, "You didn't."

"Noé." It didn't sound like his name, out of Vanitas' mouth. His voice wobbled; more of a gasp. He gripped Noé's shirt in his hands and tried to keep breathing. He was warm. In a different way to the shower. He was a warmth that broke through the ice and made that wave of emotions hit Vanitas.

But it was alright. Because Noé was also shaking, and he could hear heavy breath in his ear. Were his eyes also damp? It would make him feel better if they were.

Hands on his back, splayed, as though Noé wanted to feel all of him at once. It made him feel small, but safe.

"Chaton," Noé murmured. "He called me chaton. After everything."

"I know."

Noé's mouth buried itself in his hair. It still hung loose. He wanted to feel hands in it. Noé's hands, combing it back and plaiting it together.

"Do you want to talk?" Vanitas whispered. Because Noé had asked him the same and he deserved the same question. Because he remembered something – about him – the Nameless One, and he knew it was not the time to ask anymore about it.

"No." Noé's chin pressed into him. "Do you?"

Not when Noé was allowing him the same privacy. "No."

Noé's breath rattled in his chest. "Vanitas?" He made a small sound of acknowledgement and held tighter. "Do you know...we're still alive."

Maybe it was meant to make him smile. Or be a comfort. Or just a fact. All Vanitas knew was that it was the moment his body decided it was done taking his weight, and he let Noé have the brunt of it. He gave himself to him, as Noé sat on the bed. It didn’t seem to terrible, to curl into him like a cat, with his head on his shoulder.

"We're still alive," he whispered.

Noé's thumb rubbed circles on the small of his back. He traced his over the shape of Noé's collarbones. Alive. He didn't want to talk about who might not be.

They stayed, unmoving, on the bed. Listened to each other breathe, and slowly stopped shaking. Still stayed, though, pressed into each other, as though it was Winter and they needed the warmth.

The gas lamp was low, by the time he took a breath and nudged his chin up to see the silhouette of Noé's profile in the dark. Like a Prince.

"Coffee?"

Noé turned to him. Their noses nudged against each other's. "Oui. Si'l vous plait."

Vanitas' mouth twitched up. "Bien sûr, darling."

It was easier to continue on. Leave it all behind, and only talk about what they had to.

Noé stopped him, with just a hand on his shoulder, before he could strut out. His hands took Vanitas' hair and gently pulled it back. A twist of his wrist and it was tied back, like always. It left them cheek to cheek.

"There," Noé whispered.

Vanitas turned. Just enough for his mouth to graze Noé's cheek. It couldn't be anything more because then his eyes would sting with tears again, and he wasn't doing that. There would be no more crying and no more weakness.

Even the lamps seemed too bright, as though he hadn't seen light in weeks. It made the stone shine bronze and the glass windows glimmer. The flowers in the window boxes were too bright and the passers-by were too happy. Enjoying a normal evening.

He kept next to Noé. It sounded stupid, but he didn't want to leave his side. If they separated, something bad would happen. Something bad always happened when they separated.

Noé seemed stiff. His eyes were distant, and he ignored Murr butting at his cheek for attention. His mind was still on the battle.

They reached the café. Usually sat outside, overlooking the city, but this time Noé led them to a table in the corner. Black coffee. A plate of biscuits.

"I'm not going to apologize," Vanitas told his cup. The liquid was so dark he could see his silhouette reflected in it.

"I'm not going to either," Noé replied.

He could have cackled. What a pair they made. Stubborn idiots, the both of them.

Vanitas kept talking to the cup. "And I'm not going to say thank you."

"Then I won't."

"You're copying me." He did look up, then, and narrowed his eyes.

Noé rested his chin on his palm. Maybe would have smiled, a week before. He looked too tired to, now. "I'm not."

"See."

He nudged Noé under the table, or Noé nudged him. They nudged each other and kept their boots pressed there.

"I disagreed with you on that one," Noé said.

"I hate you." He tried to say it with the same conviction he used to. Wanted to, just to see if it would finally push this boy away.

Noé's voice was a murmur, and his eyes were soft. "Non."

Vanitas raised an eyebrow. This was familiar ground. "Je t'aime?"

"Est-ce que tu?"

Normally, they would both be smirking. It would be a tease. But now, Noé was toying with his lip, and his brows were creased, as though he was scared. Scared that something that changed, and Vanitas didn't feel the same way anymore.

He shouldn't. This should have been the end of the line for them. Noé should have hated him, should have left – should be—dead. Vanitas should be alone. Should hate him. Should have left of his own accord. But he was still here, wasn't he? If anything was going to split them up, it would have been this.

Vanitas' heart squeezed, like there was a fist around it. Because he thought he knew why and it was terrible. Absolutely the worst thing that could happen to him.

"I think you know." He sipped from the cup. The coffee wasn't bitter enough.

Noé waited a moment, steam rising from his own cup. "You won't ask me the same."

"I can't." He couldn't admit it, not to himself and definitely not out loud. It might very well shatter him completely.

Noé seemed to understand, because of course he did. He understood something on a different level to everyone else. His eyes softened, and his boot nudged Vanitas'. It stayed there, until Vanitas pressed back.

"But," Vanitas murmured, swilling his coffee around his mug. "I said that – those things – to throw him off the scent.”

“I see that, now.”

“I don't want to see you dead. I want...you to stay with me. For as long as..."

For as long as Noé could bare to be with him.

Noé, who leant forward and said, "Longer."

His heart fluttered. Ridiculous, that it was still doing that, after all this time, around this boy. That Noé could make him feel like a maiden who'd never been kissed.

He had to justify why he was being so sentimental. "I'm selfish."

Selfish enough to make Noé risk his life again and again because Vanitas wanted him around. Because they made a good team. Because, if they were together, then maybe they could win.

Noé leant forward, and his fingers grazed the back of Vanitas' hand. How could it send sparks through him, even when he was wearing gloves? What if he could take them off?

"Me too," Noé said, with soft eyes.

And Vanitas should say that he was copying again, but he didn't. He didn't do a lot of things, where Noé Archiviste was concerned. Instead, he managed to smile, and leant back, letting his hair fall over his face and shoulder.

Things were not alright. He was aching and sore and a jumble of emotions. Was hurting and angry and mourning all over again. Didn’t know what the next steps were or what Noé’s teacher had meant. But whilst he was keeping those amethyst eyes around?

He could manage.

*

"I want to tell you something."

Early evening. Just before the sun started setting in earnest. A few days after the evening after those events. They walked through the small streets that stretched from Note Dame like cracks in porcelain. It was quiet enough that Vanitas could slip his arm through Noé's without them attracting attention. As though they were young lovers. Normal boys falling in love in Paris.

Vanitas raised an eyebrow. He was back to teasing, now – to smirks and laughs and being annoying, now that he knew Noé wasn’t going anywhere. "Are you going to confess your undying love for me?"

Noé almost smiled, but he was too serious. He nudged their hips together. "Not tonight."

"Then what?" But Vanitas suspected he didn't want to know.

Noé paused. He took a deep breath, hair shining in the gas lamp light. His eyelashes caught the light as he closed them and the pause was terrible. Terrible and annoying. Then—

"I drunk Mikhail's blood."

Vanitas would have preferred a punch to the gut. Maybe even a knife. He slowed their pace, and the word felt sharp as he asked, "Willingly?"

"No.” Pause. “It never is." Another pause. "So, I saw—"

"I know who you are." It was cold, but he couldn't help it. How could he forget, just for a moment, the power Noé had? That he could see into what Vanitas would kill to keep hidden. The incident with Mikhail had just cemented that.

Noé's arm stiffened in his grip. It was, Vanitas suspected, just as annoying for him. "He was desperate to show me."

Another knife, twisting this time. Vanitas glanced over the rooftops, but they were too far from Notre Dame to catch a glimpse.

"Show you what?"

"He called you brother." It didn't answer his question. "He loved you."

"What did he show you, Noé?" Vanitas wanted to let go of his arm. He didn't. He gripped it tighter.

"He was number seventy-one. He was – you volunteered to take his place. Every time."

Vanitas didn't answer. Couldn't even look. He bit his tongue. Felt shame? Rage? A tiny niggle of pride that only swept in a tsunami of hatred and self-loathing. His grip went slack.

"I saw your escape." Noé's steps had slowed. "I saw who helped you. I suppose it makes sense, now, and I should have seen it. It made me wonder—"

"What happened that night?" The night Mikhail was so desperate to see.

"No." Noé had stopped completely. Vanitas still didn't look at him. "It made me wonder what's so different about you."

Vanitas' breath felt thin, as though he was on a mountain, and there wasn't enough oxygen. "Quoi?"

"All those subjects that didn't make it. You went through the most. What's so different about you that you survived? With your mind intact, too."

Vanitas felt himself smiling. "You don't think I'm mad?"

"You have some mad ideas." Noé's free hand brushed hair from his cheek. Exposed him, and he twitched away on instinct. "But you're sane."

Saner than Mikhail? He didn't want to ask that. Not when he already knew the answer.

"I suppose..." He met those amethyst eyes. "I'm stubborn."

That wasn’t it. He was full of rage and hate and pain and that was what had kept him going. Was still full of those things but seemed to have new things in the mix. Sweeter things that he wasn’t made for.

Noé smiled. Just slightly. Then his hand moved to cup Vanitas' cheek, and he was leaning forward. Vanitas should twitch away again. Should.

Didn’t want to.

Noé kissed him.

Vanitas felt like crying.

"I wanted you to know," Noé said. "I wanted you to know what I know."

"Stop that." But there wasn't conviction behind his voice. He wrapped his arm into Noé's, forcing him to continue walking. "Stop being so noble."

Noé allowed himself to be led. "Non."

"Oui."

Noé dug his heels into the ground. He was stronger, and it stopped Vanitas in his tracks. "Make me, my dear."

His dear Vanitas. Vanitas narrowed his eyes, but his heart was stuttering. This. This was easier than talking about the past and the incident. Of everything that was revealed and was scattered around them like debris. It was easier to feel anger and annoyance than to peel that away to find fear. Noé scared him because Noé would not go away.

"I mean it. Stop.” He untangled himself. “Stop standing by me no matter what, and stop putting up with me all the time. Especially after—” Shooting and stabbing and fighting like animals.

Noé stared, as if it didn’t matter. “Why?”

“Because I'm me,” he snapped. Because since he met Noé he’d almost gotten him killed a dozen times. Because since they’d met, Noé had his blood drunk, or been forced to drink blood, so many times.

It was Noé ‘s turn to narrow his eyes. “Because you want to be alone?”

That was it. The words were a knife to his chest, his breath just as sharp in his throat. Noé could see straight through him.

His voice was low. “I want to be alone.”

“That's ridiculous,” Noé snapped. He reached for Vanitas’ hand.

He stepped away again, snatching it out of reach. “I don't want you. With all your shining, white Knight charm and patience and understanding—"

“I don't understand you! Not at all!”

Which didn’t make sense. “Then why are you still here?!”

“Because I won't leave you all alone!” Noé moved too fast, grabbing hold of Vanitas’ shoulders. He stumbled back. “You don't deserve—” So he knew that was what ‘want’ really meant, then. “—To be alone, you idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot!”

“Don't act like one!”

“Stop." It hurt to say. His throat throbbed and his chest burned and there were hot tears in his eyes. He wiped them with the heel of his hand. Hated that – that he was crying. Again.

Noé’s grip stayed firm. He ducked his head to try and keep eye contact. Stubborn idiot. “I won't.”

Vanitas stared at him, heart thudding. It came out as a whisper, “Why?”

“I don't have to understand you to care about you.” Noé’s voice was soft. “I don't have to understand you to lo—"

“Don't say it.” He thought it would make him explode. That he would just – break. “Not when you had to ask me what it was.”

Love. Noé didn’t know a thing about love, so how could he talk about it? How could he be so sure?

Noé’s grip finally softened, falling down to Vanitas’ elbows. He took a breath, and held it. “What if it’s true?”

He wanted to step back. Should step back and go back to being aloof and uncaring because this was all a mistake. It made him vulnerable. Made him a weak, cracked thing that was falling apart. Made more his eyes fill with more tears that absolutely couldn’t fall. Vanitas ducked his head, hiding behind a wall of hair.

“I don't believe you,” he whispered, his chest still tight.

But he was still persisting. Noé would not leave him alone. “Don't or won't?”

Shouldn’t. He wrapped his arms around himself, pressing his fingers against his ribs. Wished that he could disappear entirely, so they didn't have to discuss this.

"And what about you?" he whispered. “What if I just leave you?”

Wouldn’t that be easier, for him?

"You follow me around." Noé stretched out his hand, then drew it back. He still stood much too close. "You won't leave me either...mon minoun."

It was said so softly he thought he might sob. He blinked, hard. Stepped forward, heels clacking on the pavement, then pressed his head against Noé's shoulder. Lightly, like a cat in greeting.

Noé's hand pressed against his hair. Very lightly, sifting through the strands, until Vanitas lifted his head. Only to see where Noé's mouth was and press his own against it. Kept pressing his mouth against him in a chain of kisses because that was easier. That showed what he meant. Cupped Noé’s cheek in his palm and kept him there, feeling his jaw move as he kissed back. Kisses that sent warmth through him and made his chest ache.

He leant into Noé, to feel as much of him as possible. Trailed a hand up his side to feel hips and waist and ribs, swelling under his touch.

"I hate this," he whispered into Noé's mouth.

Noé's hand hovered over his. Went past, to his waist, and snaked around to his back to keep him close. "Sorry."

He hated feeling like this. The shame and the feeling he didn't want – deserve this. The frustration at not being alone. The – love? Affection. Overwhelming feeling of Noé that was unique to him. Hated the closeness and what it did to him. Hated himself most of all for being so contrary and have so many emotions.

So, he kissed Noé with an open mouth and hoped he could convey everything through that. Let arms wrap around him and hold him tight as his hands tangled in the front of Noé's shirt. Felt the shape of his chest and how he was strong, and solid and there.

Noé sighed. Looked beautiful, when Vanitas pulled away, with eyelashes silver in the lamplight that Vanitas caught his chin. Ran a finger over Noé's bottom lip, which parted under his touch. He had that ridiculous, soft look on his face, and Vanitas hated that too.

Hated Noé.

It was a lie. He knew the opposite. Because he should have been able to kill Noé. Hadn’t. Didn’t want to. And that meant everything.

"You're..." He trailed off, and instead kissed him again. Kissed the corner of his mouth, then Noé's cheek.

Noé held him. Tight.

Vanitas didn't deserve this. Any of this.

But maybe he needed to give up on shouldn’t and couldn’ts.

10/11

They had not apologised, and yet they both had, in their own way. It was in Noé’s soft touches, in him taking black coffee up to the roof, in him staying. It was in Vanitas toying with that silver hair, in ordering tarte tatin and barely touching it, in him staying.

They continued, not so different from before. Kissing at sunset, Vanitas lying in Noé’s bed the odd hour at sunrise but pretending he hadn’t. Almost being sweethearts, even if their pasts still sat between them. Even if the future was still an uncertain mess. A threat, pressing into the small of Vanitas’ back.

And it still sat between them. The question of blood drinking. That was the first time they’d truly turned against each other. The first physical fight. It was hard to move on when they were continuing this – when any other human and vampire, Vanitas knew – would not be stopping at love bites.

He turned it over and over, sat up on the roof. Because Jeanne biting him had sent sparks dancing through him, so what would Noé biting him be like? His cheeks warmed. It would be attractive, to see Noé acting less like a gentleman and more like a vampire, if only he wasn’t him. An Archiviste and one that could overpower him so easily.

It annoyed him. That there was something he wanted, that he couldn’t have. Because of who he was, too.

But he thought he found a compromise.

They sat on a low wall overlooking the river Seine. Notre Dame stood tall across the river, stained glass glinting like ice in the light of the moon. The muddle of houses around it all had lights on in at least one of their windows. It made Vanitas think of black paper cut out and held against a candle; like it wasn’t real. Those window lights reflected on the dark water of the river as it rushed past them.

"You only see memories the first time you drink someone's blood?" Vanitas asked. It was what he kept coming back to, in his mind. Just the one time of seeing memories, and then not again.

Noé gave him a confused look, tilting his head to one side, hair like moonshine. The look said it had not been what he’d been thinking about. Vanitas didn’t want to explain.

"Yes," Noé replied, carefully. Turned back to the river. "It's why I can drink Domi's blood."

Why he can? As if he couldn't to anyone else. Interesting. It was interesting that Noé was so polite about it, and so conscious of it. It upset him so much when he had to use his power, and there had to be a story behind that.

Vanitas hummed, kicking the heel of his boot clicked against the wall. "Alright.”

Noé seemed to be barely breathing, not glancing across. "Alright, what?"

"Alright, you can have one of my memories, if you give me some of yours." Vanitas stared at him, daring him to look at him. He wanted to be looked at.

The gas lamp behind them painted a rainbow in Noé’s hair. "How could I do that?"

After all, Vanitas was not an Archiviste.

"Simple." Vanitas leant forward, so his ponytail fell between them, inches apart. Tried not to smirk, and probably failed. "Tell me about the other De Sade sibling."

Finally, Noé looked at him. Those violet eyes that looked fluorescent in the night and were wide. He couldn't hide how intriguing a proposal that was - how tempted he was by the suggestion of Vanitas' blood. Even at the cost of explaining about The Nameless One.

"You can drink my blood, if you tell me about him."

That was the proposal. Talk about him, and Vanitas would bare his neck for him. More than that, he'd let him into those memories that he'd heard, and seen from Mikhail, first hand. Talk about him, and he'd be free to drink Vanitas' blood whenever he wanted.

"I..." Noé took a deep breath, broad chest rising. "You know some of it."

"Not all of it." Vanitas hopped off the wall, and into the mud of the bank. He glanced over his shoulder. "I want to know the whole story."

How much did he mean to Noé? It was mean to think that way, but he’d almost used the word ‘love.’ So how much would he give up for his blood?

Vanitas watched Noé look down at his white gloves, on the wall. As ghostly, as his hair, in the dark.

"He always stayed with Teacher and I," he said. "I was told he was poorly, and that the country air was good for him."

"He was a curse bearer."

Noé closed his eyes. "Louis wasn't just a curse bearer."

Louis. Noé had finally said a name. Louis. Louis De Sade.

"He was kind. When I first got there, I was very sensitive and started crying at something they said. He panicked and did his best to cheer me up. He was always doing that. And he was so patient with me - he taught me everything that he knew, and didn't mind if it took me a while. And it did." Noé looked sheepish. "I wasn't a fast learner…I used to think he knew everything. But Louis was gentle, as well. We found a bird's nest once, and I remember how gently he held the eggs. Just for a moment, each, just to feel what it was like to hold something that would be alive one day. The look on his face..."

Noé's eyes were half-lidded, and his lips curled up at the corners. Wistful for this boy.

Vanitas stomach wrung itself like a wet cloth. His mouth had to be mean. "Did you ever drink his blood?"

Noé paused. Closed his eyes. "Yes. The first time...I thought he was messing around when he kept telling me no."

What did he see? Vanitas wanted to – had to – know. Everything. But he didn’t want to press too far; he wanted Noé to choose how much to say.

"But then, after that, he let me, whenever I wanted. It was like he knew before I did that he..." Noé's eyes were glassy. "It was seen as fun, when we were kids. But as we got a bit older…I think he felt something more."

Vanitas stepped forward, instead, fingers just grazing where Noé's sat, on the wall. “You said he asked you to kiss him.”

“Yes.” Noé’s fingers tightened on the wall. “I don’t know if I felt the same.”

"And then?"

"Then a girl from the village was a curse bearer and getting out of control. We didn't want her to be sent away." His voice faded; a breakable thing in the twilight. "Louis followed, in case something went wrong. It did. Of course."

Noé squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. His lashes were silver, only creating a half-shadow on his cheeks.

"It tipped him over the edge." A very long pause. His lips twitched, as if they were mouthing the rest of it. Vanitas sank down, so that he was perched like a gargoyle, on the river bank, looking up. "He died."

Vanitas’ heart sat on his tongue. “Who did it?”

Noé’s voice was a broken whisper, “Teacher.”

“You saw?”

“Everything.”

"I see." Sorry was probably a better word, but was too little. He felt twisted and tangled. Hated himself for being relieved he didn’t have to contend with Louis for Noé’s affections and yet – understood too entirely how deep that hurt must have been. Noé had seen everything.

Vanitas knew that too well. He felt it in his ribcage now and dug his nails into his palms.

A sound came from Noé. Short and sharp and broken. He nudged himself to the edge of the wall. Slid down, as he spoke, as though his legs couldn't support his weight.

"He was always – he was always making something for me. And he was so good with wood that I thought it was going to be something fantastic. A whole Noah's arc.” He frowned. “But it wasn't – it wasn't – it was stakes. He was making stakes for me so that I would kill him. He wanted me to kill him."

Those amethyst eyes opened. Were dark circles. His voice a whisper. "And I couldn't even do that."

Vanitas held his gaze. His chest throbbed with pain. His heart was pounding against it and his mind was whirring. Because he’d said the very same, and didn’t’ know how to feel about the fact he had something in common with Louis De Sade. He needed to process that, and how deep this hurt was – that he’d never known that. Needed to process the fact that Noé was upset. Genuinely upset in a way that Vanitas had never seen him. Noé was splintering.

What could Vanitas say, the hypocrite?

"You were a child," Vanitas said.

"So was he." Noé's eyes sparkled like stars, tears sat in them. Ridiculous, that he could be something beautiful when he was sat in the mud.

Vanitas sat back on his heels. Louis had known it would be soon and they were children, and Louis had chosen Noé to kill him. When they were still children. Did he truly think Noé would’ve been able to do it? Did he care that Noé was now crying crystal tears because he'd been given a stake to kill his best friend – his first love – with? Because he couldn't do it and maybe that broke his heart more than actually doing it.

How cruel.

And Vanitas was no better. Perhaps worse. He'd pressed Noé for it. Got him into danger constantly and took it for granted that he would be followed and Noé would be alive and okay. He said that he wanted that very thing, because he adored Noe so much. And he made it worse, because he'd kissed him. He’d developed their relationship further than Louis did and then asked history to repeat itself.

He closed his own eyes, pushing down a swarm of nasty emotions.

He stood, watching the gas lamp light play over Noé as he did. He offered a hand.

Noé's glistening eyes met his. He tangled their fingers together. It was mostly a token gesture, because they both knew that Noé was stronger than Vanitas. He kept hold of their hands, as he stepped back to the wall. Vanitas didn't sit. Noé did. His shoulders shook.

Eventually, Noé took his hand back. "Are you satisfied, now?"

Now that he'd made Noé cry?

The terrible thing was he wasn't. There was more to the story. A crucial piece missing. How, exactly, did Louis die? How, exactly, did his head ‘pop off?’

"You loved him," he said, instead.

"Of course," Noé whispered.

That bite of jealousy again. But mainly a pain that wasn't his, that for some reason, he didn't mind carrying.  He’d share this, with Noé, since he was so terrible. He leant forward, and brushed hair behind Noé's ear with a finger. Pressed a kiss to his cheek, and kept his mouth close.

"I needed you to hurt," Vanitas continued, hands heavy at his sides. "Because it will hurt when you see my memories. It had to be equivalent, you see."

Noé's hand grabbed his own, suddenly. Gripped it tight and Noé looked up. Glared. "Do you think it won't hurt me too?"

Yes. Because Vanitas still couldn't believe that Noé actually cared about him. Not as a person. He was still a curiosity. Because thinking that Noé would be hurt on his behalf was sentimental and trusting in a way he could not be. Because Vanitas’ own story was just as bad, if not worse.

His voice was even, and low "Do you want to bite me, now?"

It would get his own back. Would, maybe, make talking about Louis worth it, and that was the idea. Noé's gaze flicked to his neck. He bit his lip, brows furrowing, as he considered it.

"You want the same,” Noé said. “You want me to kill you.”

“Yes.” He didn’t move. “I won’t say how I feel about you.”

But he suspected that Noé knew, or had guessed. That love was a word that was starting to blossom for him too.

Noé scowled. “And what if I can’t?”

“You could.” This time. They were grown-up now, and could kill each other like grown ups. Noé was strong as diamond.

“And what if I say no?” Noé pressed. “What if I refuse to kill you and insist there’s a way to save you?”

Vanitas chest burnt. His skin itched and he wanted to tug away. Wanted to scream. Would have, when they met, and would say to let him die. Now, after everything, he felt himself softening, and hated that he did.

He took a breath that was glass in his lungs. “Exactly.”

Noé blinked. He closed his eyes, and didn’t reply.

Vanitas kissed his cheek again, and sat. Further away than before, but Noé still had hold of his hand.

It wasn't clear who moved first, but they both swung off the wall, at some point. They walked, side by side, over the cobblestones, listening to the rhythm of the river. Close enough their joint hands were hidden from the passers-by. Mainly people on the way home from operas or dinner, dressed up in suits and gowns the colour of jewels.

Noé was silent, but his shoulders drew back out. He became less of a scared, little boy and more of the man Vanitas knew, the further they got from the river. The more he pushed those memories back, where they couldn’t hurt him.

Not that Vanitas could judge him. It made warmth flow through him, and he hated that, that he was more endeared to Noé now.

Eventually, he stepped towards a side street, leading them both in that direction. It was dark, and out of sight, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out his plan. That he was eager to have Vanitas uphold his part of the deal. He was even less eager, and alleyways made him think of Jeanne.

“Not in an alleyway,” Vanitas snapped. “You tomcat, Noé.”

Noé looked back at him, blinking. He smirked, just a little. His eyes went soft in a way that made Vanitas’ stomach turn inside out.

“Alright,” Noé replied, and stepped back out. His voice was almost a whisper, when he added, “Mon minoun.”

Vanitas turned his face away, just in case the heat was visible. Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. He let his fingers slide from Noé’s, just in case he’d feel Vanitas’ racing heart in his palms.

“Where, then?” Noé pressed.

Vanitas hid behind his hair, and thought. “The rooftops. Any rooftop.”

Somewhere he could run away, if he wanted.

Noé nodded. They kept going, heels clicking against the pavement, until they found a row of buildings that were easy enough to scale. A thick rose bush grew on the end of the houses, and it was a simple enough matter to use it as a ladder.

Vanitas thought of Louis De Sade helping Noé climb trees. Of how Noé must have looked up at him with stars in his eyes. Of him being here when Noé fell.

His palm stung, pricked with thorns.

Vanitas climbed the rest of the way up, onto the tiled roof. Notre Dame was a far silhouette in the distance now, competing with the roofs of hotels and restaurants. With lit domes and pinprick windows, bright against the dark sky.

He tipped his chin up, and the night sky wasn’t so different from Paris. There were just as many lights. Black paper held in front of a candle.

Noé climbed up next to him, almost soundlessly. There was an air of anticipation about it, as though they were a couple on their wedding night. There was as much tension in the air.

Yet, now they were here, Vanitas had no idea how to go about it.

“Do you choose the memories you see?” he asked. The wind caught his hair, and he watched Noé watch it.

“I have a little control.”

“Dr Moreau.” And when Noé stared at him, Vanitas explained, “My memories of Dr Moreau.”

Because they were the least damaging, he thought. Required the least explanation. Were something that Noé knew about and could guess the rest, anyway. It would be the least painful thing for him to see.

“Vanitas—”

“Noé.” He stepped forward. Straightened the lapel of Noé’s jacket, and looked up at him. He would not say please. Not out loud. But Noé knew his looks better than anyone; just get it over with.

He nodded, fingertips grazing up Vanitas’ side.

Vanitas bit his tongue, so that he didn’t shiver. Let his hand open on Noé’s shoulder, as he drew closer, eyes half-lidded. Pushed down that overwhelming feeling to fight. It was easier, this time, to keep control of himself.

It was cold. The night air stung his cheeks, and Noé’s warm breath soothed that. Their lips met. Moved against each other as Noé took his waist with his other hand, and pulled him closer. Vanitas touched Noé’s cheek, grazing over the shape of it, as though he would be able to memorise it that way. It made his stomach turn over once more, and his heart stammer and stumble. Pushed the fight feeling down further.

He’d never admit to being scared. But he was trusting Noé with this, and that was uncomfortable. It was unsettling, what he might see, when he tasted blood.

It was easier not to think about that when they were kissing. To not thinking about what was happening after. When Noé’s mouth trailed down his jaw with his mouth slightly parted, with his tongue just peeking through, so that Vanitas had to swallow down a sigh. When he’d chosen the side without the earing, only nudging dark hair from his neck.

Vanitas’ hand came up of its own accord, and tugged his bow loose. Tugged his shirt collar open for Noé’s searching mouth, because he was warm all over and there was a hand on his cheek to lean into. Because he wanted to feel that warm mouth there.

He bared his neck.

Every nerve in him told him not to, but that kiss had sent them all sparking. Noé had bypassed that defence, and he had let him.

Noé kissed his neck.

Vanitas wanted to cry.

Teeth against his skin. Waiting, just a moment, as though he was going to stab him for trying. He tightened his fingers in Noé’s jacket so that he didn’t. Looked up at the stars and took a breath.

Noé bit down, like he was biting into a peach, and Vanitas swallowed down most of the sound that threatened to escape.

There it was. The fight reared its head again, but it was too late for that. Noé’s mouth was on the wound. He was already tasting his blood.

He would be seeing – something.

Moreau. Vanitas tried to focus on Moreau. Panic. Just panic and pain and hurt. That was every memory of that time. A racing heart and screams bashing his ribcage, desperate to be released. It was hard to remember anything else.

Anything else at all. After, there was more panic and pain. Before hurt too much to even think about. He didn’t think about that anymore.

“Noé,” he whispered, and wondered if he could even be heard. “I—”

Noé pulled away. Just slightly. His lips still pressed against the blood and Vanitas felt a warm tongue against his damp skin. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, his stomach leapt in interest. He felt Noé gasp, and try to pull away.

Vanitas’ blood was too delicious for that.

“Hold your breath.” His hands pushed Noé’s shoulders, but it was a weak attempt.

The warm breath on his neck disappeared. It was another long moment, before Noé pulled away. His eyes closed. There was dark on his mouth. Blood. Vanitas’ blood. He wiped it with his white glove, and it left a mark.

Vanitas was gasping. The air was sharp in his lungs. He turned away, back to Paris, and looked back at the stars. His heart still pounded. It wasn’t like Jeanne sucking his blood. It felt awkward and slanted, but that was mostly because Noé was an Archiviste. Because he’d been second guessing what he would see. If that was taken out of the equation, then – it wasn’t unpleasant. It wasn’t unpleasant at all.

“What did you see?” he whispered. His voice rubbed his throat raw.

“I tried to see as little as possible.” Which didn’t answer the question. Noé didn’t move. “I mostly – felt. A lot of pain, and fear and—” Noé took a long, sharp breath. “You could barely see for fear.”

Vanitas did not reply. “Anything else?”

“Snatches. Moreau and Mikhail and – someone else.”

Vanitas was not going to explain who that someone else could have been. With any luck, Noé would never need to know. Would never meet them face to face. He pulled his hair forward, to hide the bite mark. It felt damp and hot.

“So that’s it?” His voice wavered, just slightly. Clearing his throat would only draw more attention to it.

“That’s it.” Noé stayed where he was.

“You won’t see anymore?”

“No.”

What a strange power, then, to only work once. Not that Vanitas could complain. Now that it had been done, that was it. It wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Noé could drink his blood.

How often did he want that to happen?

He looked across. Noé held his glove to his nose, as though to stop the smell coming through. But it was the marked glove, the blood black against the white. He looked like a dog with a forbidden treat.

“Darling.” The word escaped him before he could think about it.

Those starry eyes looked up at him. As though Vanitas was something worth looking at. "I'm afraid I didn't get much of a taste of your blood."

"Oh no?" He raised his eyebrows. Yes. It was better like this. To not dwell on it and go back to that easy teasing.

"No." Noé pressed the back of his glove to his mouth, eyes half-closed. "But it does smell good."

Vanitas chuckled. He couldn't help it. Noé was like a child in a sweet shop. "Of course it does."

Those eyes met his. Vanitas didn't want him to say it, and Noé didn't, but he could see it in his eyes. A thanks. He swallowed down a heavy ball in his throat.

"I'll have to try again," Noé said allowed.

"You'll have to.” They were almost flirting. “But not tonight."

Tonight he was tired – exhausted – from emotions.

"Not tonight."

Noé offered his clean glove. Vanitas took it, and stepped back towards him. Felt like they were about to dance again and smirked at the thought. Smirked at Noé, who was smiling at him so fondly. He still hated that.

Hated it all the more because what he'd seen hadn't changed his opinion of Vanitas. Hadn't changed the way he looked at him. Damn this boy.

Damn Vanitas too. He ran his thumb over Noé's lip, stained with his own blood. Watched Noé's mouth fall open just from that. Then continued past, before he did something stupid. Something more stupid than he'd done already.

"Come on, cherie" he said over his shoulder, dropping down into the rose bush.

Noé followed. Of course.

Just Looking for Footprints

They continued, with that bite sat between them. With Noé glancing at his lips, his neck, whenever they were alone and clearly trying to control himself. But now it was done. He had seen. And that meant – Vanitas didn’t let himself think about it – but that meant biting was – in the cards.

They tried again when they were under the stars again. When they were on top of the roof of the hotel and there was only a slight chill in the air, a breeze not strong enough to lift Vanitas’ ponytail. There was a fog, instead, that seemed to rise from the streets and turned the world into a painting.

They sat in silence. Silence was easier than words, and most words were empty. If they weren't empty, then they were too true. Too honest. Too full of feelings and Vanitas still didn’t like feelings. He hated having them now and hated that Noé knew he had them. He’d already admitted to much, became to vulnerable.

So, of course it was Noé he wanted to kill him.

A hand brushed hair behind his ear, and it caught his attention. Noé. Watching. With lips parted and those amethyst eyes shining. His hand stayed on Vanitas' jaw, tracing the shape of it before cupping his cheek. His glove was soft and familiar; he leant into it.

"You're – like Paris," Noé replied.

"What?" He was exasperated, but a fond exasperated, his hand taking Noé’s. Bigger than his.

"You don't want me to say it." Which was true, but Noé did anyway. "Beautiful." And at Vanitas' scoff, he added. "Your hair is the colour of the sky, your skin the colour of the moon and your eyes shine like the lights."

It was ridiculous, poetic and over the top. But it still made his heart stutter. Mainly because all of that made it a very Noé thing to say. He hated that – hated Noé.

Tugged Noé's cravat loose, just to annoy him. "Don't be so ridiculous."

But his voice was soft, which was so unlike him. He wanted to stop it, but he couldn’t. Instead, he twisted the ribbon in his fingers, focusing on that because he thought Noé was wrong. He was the beautiful one, with his hair shining like starlight and his skin the colour of the coffee they were so fond of drinking.

"You don't look terrible, either, I suppose" he muttered.

Noé smiled, unbearably soft. And closed the gap between them. They kissed, and Vanitas wound the ribbon round his fingers again to keep them close. He took Noé's bottom lip between his teeth and toyed with it, revelling in the feeling of a hand in his hair, fingers tightening. Of Noé pressing closer, other hand wrapping around Vanitas' waist.

Vanitas took hold of Noé's shoulder, grazing his teeth along his jaw to feel him sigh again. He smirked, fingers tugging the ribbon, mouthing at the hollow of his jaw. He gave a gentle nip there.

Noé's hands tightened on his waist, all warm palms. When Vanitas pulled away, just to glimpse his face through dark strands of hair, he saw flushed cheeks and shining eyes. Realised, with something of a jolt, how he'd made Noé feel.

And Noé took advantage of that moment's pause. He came forward, claiming Vanitas's mouth in a crushing kiss and slipping onto his lap. Vanitas put a hand to the back of his neck to steady himself, his heart stuttering. It felt like all he could do to kiss back, heart pounding. Because Noé was larger than him and the feeling of his thighs on the outside of his own should make him feel trapped, but it sent electric over his skin instead. Because there was silver hair in his face, like starlight, and hands were untucking his shirt. Because he didn’t hate this. Didn’t hate Noé.

He allowed himself to be lowered to the rooftiles, feeling every part of Noé that he could lay his hands on. Scrunching up that waistcoat so that they'd both be left in a mess. That was only fair.

Noé kept kissing, tongues pressing against each other and over and back arching to meet. He pulled away. Whispered, "Vanitas."

Vanitas half-opened his eyes. Smirked. "Yes, cherie?"

"I..." The flush was high on Noé's cheeks, and his fangs were visible, just pressing against his parted bottom lip. Instead of finishing his sentence, his hand trailed up to Vanitas cheek, fingers brushing against his collar to show what he wanted.

"Oui, Noé?" He kissed him, pressing their tongues back together, taking charge and feeling, rather than hearing, a soft sound from the back of Noé's throat.

"You know," he murmured. Almost moaned.

"Use your words."

Noé pulled away, properly, to look down at him, knees pressing harder against Vanitas' hips. His breath caught. Could Noé tell that?

"I have to ask." It wasn't quite a question. There was something soft and underlying in his voice.

Vanitas reached up, wondering what it would be like if he wasn't wearing his glove, and cupped Noé's cheek. Traced his thumb over his parted lip and poked it just inside to feel teeth.

"Non." His smirked widened, and his hips moved upwards, slightly, as if they knew what to do. "I want you to beg, darling."

Noé did frown at him, then. It was more of a pout. He flicked Vanitas' cheek, lightly, and he laughed. Moved his hand to the nape of Noé's neck and pulled him closer to kiss the corner of his mouth. His cheek. Took his ear lobe between his teeth and tugged it. Another soft sound in his ear.

"Please," Noé whispered, hands either side of his head.

"Please what?"

"Your blood."

Vanitas leant back on the roof, and grinned. "What about it?"

Noé huffed, and he couldn't help chuckling again, finding Noé's hand and squeezing it.

"Alright." Even though there was an underlying feeling of 'no.' This was against what he always wanted. But Noé wasn't going to see his memories again, and he wanted to know what a bite from Noé would be like, because he was already feeling like he was full of sparks.

Noé smiled, like he'd been offered a tarte tatin. Like a child, with those starry eyes. He leant down and gave Vanitas a much more gentle kiss. His lips grazed Vanitas' cheek as he made his way over to the hollow of his jaw, breath hot. Their fingers nudged and bumped each other as Vanitas' bow was undone. As his shirt was eased open and the cold night air got to his neck.

"Noé," he murmured, one hand buried in silver hair and the other on that strong arm. It shouldn’t thrill him so much; that Noé was so strong.

"Are you alright?"

Yes. He just wanted to say the name out loud, because it was something special. He nodded, instead, taking a breath and feeling it roar through his chest.

Noé kissed the spot first, just like before. His breath left a damp mark.

Vanitas' heart raced in his ears. All of Noé was hot, and all of Noé was pressed against him. He looked up at the stars through his lashes. Pinprick of light in the dark.

Teeth bit down on his neck.

A firework rose to the sky nearby, and popped, scattering blue, like a flower dropping petals.

Vanitas took a breath, and tilted his head away from Noé to give him more space. To feel lips and tongue working against his skin and it felt like he was on fire. Like a match had been struck and his heart was beating itself to bursting.

Another firework, and Vanitas' hands explored Noé's back, crumbling that perfect white suit. Wrapped a leg around the back of Noé’s and pressed his close – close as close because he didn’t think he could bare being apart. This was what he’d thought. Better than Jeanne. Fire.

Noé took a half-breath, before his mouth was back and sucking. Teeth grazing Vanitas' skin and hands firm on his back.

"Merde," Vanitas whispered, half to himself, blinded by the fireworks above them.

"J'adore tu."

The words were a whisper back, and Vanitas didn't want to trust them. It was easy to say something like that, when Noé was getting what he wanted. When racing hearts were pressed against each other and there was this, now, between them.

He tangled his fingers in Noé's hair, tugging him away just far enough to turn his head and kiss him. To taste his own blood and feel Noé whine against him. He kissed him back, feverishly, before Vanitas' grip loosened and Noé returned to his neck. Nipped again, a soft sound at the taste, and lapped like a cat. His head felt light and that was good. All of this was good.

Vanitas lay. Took a heavy breath. Turned them, with a movement of his hips, so that he was the one lying across Noé, looking down at the silver hair spread on the roof tiles, turning pink and lilac in the light of the fireworks.

Noé, who growled like a dog at being interrupted, and who Vanitas wasn't afraid to kiss, open-mouthed, to silence that. To tangle their fingers together, pinning Noé to the rooftop, like a butterfly to a corkboard. He pushed his tongue forward, chest burning – he was burning – rolled his hips forward. Felt Noé do the same – felt the sharp gasp in his mouth.

Thought Dominique would kill him for this, because he was, by all accounts, ruining Noé. Was thoroughly enjoying ruining Noé and would be happy if she killed him for it the next morning.

Vanitas' mouth strayed, breath hot, to Noé's ear and he toyed with the lobe between his teeth. Felt Noé's mouth go back to his neck, nuzzling the fresh wound. Would it leave a mark? Did he want it to?

They were chest to chest, lying over the rooftiles. His grip had weakened enough for Noé to break free – to bury a hand in Vanitas' hair, and another on the small of his back, slipping under his waistcoat. A mess; they must have looked like a thoroughly debauched mess.

"Vanitas," he whispered, like he needed to tell him something.

He pulled away, just enough to make eye contact.

"I want..." Noé's hand travelled up the side of Vanitas.

"What else do you want, Noé?" he whispered.

"I want to take your clothes off." And Noé looked just as shocked and embarrassed at the words coming out of his mouth. Which meant Vanitas almost laughed. He tamed it back to a smirk and a raised eyebrow, even as Noé squirmed, red-faced.

"How naughty of you."

"I..." Noé trailed off, one hand unbuttoning his own shirt. The flush went all the way down his neck.

Vanitas traced the side and watched him shiver. He leant down, hair brushing Noé's cheeks to whisper, "That's better off done inside."

It was dangerous enough to do all this on the roofs, and they knew it. Yet it seemed equally as dangerous to make their way down, gripping hands and trying to get back through the window in one piece when Vanitas' heart was racing and he was shaking, dizzy from the bite.

He stumbled on the bedside table, knocking into Noé's bed. He followed, close, hands catching Vanitas' waist before he had even turned properly. His mouth was close, half kissing him with those searching hands.

Not that Vanitas' were still. They were feeling the shape of Noé's arms – how strong he was – and then fumbling for the buttons of that blasted jacket. He managed to get it off, his own cloak fluttering to the floor.

Noé felt the shape of him through his waistcoat and Vanitas managed to swallow down the whine. He tugged at the buttons himself, sure that he'd take one off entirely.

Noé was doing the same, his breath heavy. Both waistcoats were tossed, unceremoniously, to the floor. Hands tugged shirts out of waistbands, slipped underneath to warm skin that twitched away from the cold touch.

Vanitas kissed him. It was easier to think about kissing him, and it meant Noé's eyes were closed. He wouldn't be able to see the myriad of scars. He didn't care about some, but others, the ones he’d be able to feel too, he did. He let his mouth wander back to Noé's jaw and the hollow of it and kissed there. Got his own back in kind for the biting and heard Noé sigh. Felt him arch against him, so they were pressed together, chest to chest.

He wrapped his arms around Noé as tight as possible, barely pulling away when he felt fingers tangle in his shirt to peel it off. But then it was – off – and Noé was tossing his own to the side, and pressing that warm brown skin against Vanitas' pale, cold chest.

"That's enough," he murmured in Noé's ear. "That's enough for tonight."

He expected a whine, but he got a nod, into his shoulder. Noé kissed there, right over the mark Jeanne had left. The mark he'd been so proud of, but now wished would fade. Was dizzy and delusional enough to wish a new one would appear in its place and everyone would know that he was Noé’s. That Noé had given him a mark.

Noé teeth grazed the area and Vanitas dug his nails into Noé's back.

He got the message, and kissed along Vanitas' collarbone instead. Kissed his chest, and his skin tingled.

Noé pulled away, hands buried in the sheets either side of his head. His lips were damp, parted and his cheeks were flushed. Vanitas didn't think he looked any better. He stared up, feeling as though he was on display, tugging his hair to cover Jeanne's mark. His fingers brushed silver hair behind Noé's ear, and he leant into the touch like a cat.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

He hoped he could be, in the dark, barely seen. "Shut up."

"No." And his thumb brushed Vanitas' lip to make his point. Pressed there, so he took it between his teeth and bit gently. "You're beautiful, mon minou."

"Don't," Vanitas murmured, indistinctly. Knew that he wasn't. He was a mess, even with the gloves still on.

Noé pulled his hand away to kiss him. A soft, lingering kiss like he was sleeping beauty. He felt it, like this was a strange dream. His hands felt Noé's hips and waist, but he couldn't really feel him. Not with the gloves.

Damn the gloves.

"Will you stay?" Noé asked. "With me?"

In his bed. The whole night, or what was left of it. Wake up next to him and see that brown chest in the morning sun. Lay warm and safe and domestic, a tamed thing, in Noé’s arms. Give up whatever battle had been raging since that first night.

Vanitas was selfish. He wanted to see that.

"Alright." He hooked an arm around Noé's neck, and pulled him down. They became a tangle of limbs, kicking at the sheets until they were over them, and Vanitas was tucked against Noé. Facing him, like that first night. He hadn't been able to bare that - this, then. Now it didn't seem so terrible. He watched Noé's chest move up and down, rhythmic and those ghostly eyelashes close. Beautiful. He was the beautiful one.

Vanitas waited, until he was very, very sure. Until there was absolutely no way Noé could still be awake, because he absolutely could not hear the words.

Vanitas held his breath close to Noé's lips and whispered, "j'adore tu trop, ma cherie."

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

Nightingale Chapter Six - Welcome to the Neighborhood

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Six: Welcome to the Neighborhood

Word Count: 5394

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

It had been three days since Jensen sent you on that shopping trip and he hadn’t seen you since. Not in person, anyway. There was evidence that you were still in the apartment, dishes he used for breakfast were always put away clean by the time he got home at night. He heard your shower running one morning and he noticed the laundry was still being done. Life on set kept him busy, but he was still able to text back and forth with you. You always responded. Your answers were pleasant, but brief.

He was certain something was wrong, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. He had his suspicions that something had happened on the day you went to the department store. His bank sent him a text alert when the final charge went through, and it was far less than he expected it to be. Clif told him you’d been fine on the ride home, maybe a little tired. It didn’t make any sense and it was driving him crazy. Which meant he was driving everyone else crazy, especially Jared.

“Something is wrong.”

Jared didn’t look up from his phone, he’d heard the same thing from his co-star for days. “We’ve got a few minutes, why don’t you give her a call?”

“Nah, I want to talk in person. Its just our schedules don’t seem to match up.”

“She’s recovering from a concussion,” Jared pointed out. “She doesn’t have a schedule.”

“She’s got a sleep schedule. You know how hard it is with us, we work all kind of weird hours.” Jensen picked at the edges of his paper coffee cup, a nervous habit. “I never paid it much attention before, you know Dee was never around for filming. I’m sure its nothing, it just feels like she’s avoiding me.”

The mention of the ex-wife broke through Jared’s annoyance. Jensen looked like a dejected puppy and Jared had a soft spot for puppies. “Look, I’ve got a later call time tomorrow. Why don’t we switch some things around, I’ll shoot my stuff first?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m probably making a bigger deal out of it than it is. It just feels weird because we spent so much time together before work started back up.”

Jared’s eyes narrowed in speculation as a sudden thought struck, “You’re avoiding her.”

Jensen scoffed and tossed his cup in the garbage, “What did I just say?”

“Nuh huh, I don’t buy it. You are direct to a fault, if you wanted to talk to her, you would. You’re waiting for her to come to you, why?”

“Because I don’t want to push,” Jensen finally admitted. “Obviously, I’ve done something or misread things. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Talking is not going to make it worse. And if you did do something to piss her off, apologize.” Jared waggled his eyebrows, “Turn on that Winchester charm, I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen deadpanned.

“We’re switching call times,” Jared retorted. “I can’t take another day of unrequited drama.”

He was in the kitchen when you waltzed in at 7:30 with a duffle bag over your shoulder. The buds were blasting in your ears, so you didn’t hear him say good morning to you three times. When you finally glanced up and saw a figure holding a cup of coffee you let out a scream so loud, they probably heard it in the lobby.

Jensen immediately set down the cup and held up a hand in surrender, “Whoa, easy… hey, it’s just me!”

You rubbed a hand over your racing heart, “Christ on a cracker!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized, while silently chiding himself.

You laughed, knowing you must have looked ridiculous. “No, it’s okay. I thought you were already at work.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a later call time today, so I can have a lazy morning.” He said, taking up his coffee again. “Which means I’ve got time to make a real breakfast, pancakes and everything. You game?”

He gave you a dazzling smile and you nearly melted. No one had a right to look that good first thing in the morning. Perhaps it was not seeing him for days that made it so much more apparent. Already showered and shaved, but still in his track pants and t-shirt. He looked much like he did during the week he spent taking care of you. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was curl up with him on the couch. Spend the day wrapped up in his arms, warm and safe from the uncertainties that kept you up at night.

My GOD he smells good! I wonder if he’s as good at kissing in real life as he is on t.v.? He must be, look at his mouth… and his hands.

“Oh no. No thank you, I’ve got a class at the club.”

“Oh,” he tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “The health club downstairs?”

You looked down at your running suit that encased your body in navy blue and pink lycra. “Yeah, I’ve been itching to go to the gym. I think I used to quite a bit before the accident. My body’s been missing it.”

Judging by the way that suit hugged your curves, Jensen doubted your body was missing anything. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Actually, I’m taking one of the classes for seniors. I talked with one of the physical therapists down there and he helped me find something low impact.” You laughed a little, “I’m the youngest person by like forty years. Mrs. Hudson keeps trying to set me up with her grandson.”

“Mrs. Hudson?”

“She lives on the fifth floor, has a toy poodle named Mitzi and she is a huge Supernatural fan. Like, obsessed.”

“You don’t say,” he smiled a bit. “She want an autograph?”

“Yeah, but not yours.” You grinned, “Misha’s.”

He rolled his eyes, “Typical.”

“She also offered me a hundred bucks for a sneak peak at the plot for this season. I told her I’d think about it.”

“If she goes up to two hundred let me know, we can split it and go somewhere nice.”

You both laughed softly then fell into an awkward silence.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

Your reply was quick. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“I know with my schedule and everything, we haven’t had much time to talk. It just seems like there’s something bothering you.”

When you finally looked up with your big, blue eyes, he knew he was right. He saw the uncertainty in your gaze, and it worried him. There was something you weren’t saying. What could he have done to lose your trust?

“Sweetheart, tell me. Is it me? Did I do something or say something to upset you?”

“No, no.” You sighed. The last thing you wanted was to worry him or anyone else. But Jensen was a persistent man, once he caught wind of something, he wouldn’t just let it go. It never occurred to you that he’d blame himself.

“Did something happen on that shopping trip? Did they not have what you needed?”

“No! They were all great, really. Thank you again, it was lovely.”

He gave a slight shake of his head, there was that slightly cool politeness. Rigid and formal. Not like you at all. “I kinda expected you to spend a little more, I mean… are you sure it was okay?”

“I got all the essentials, Jay. I didn’t need anything extravagant.”

“It was supposed to be fun; you know. A treat. Extravagant is part of the package.”

You didn’t reply to that. You knew he would only feel badly if you told him how that trip made you feel dirty. That you were worried that your presence in his life was being misinterpreted by pretty much everyone. That you were worried that deep down, that you were just not worthy of someone like him. Not as you are. Broken.

Jensen knew he couldn’t force you to confide in him. It wasn’t fair to push you just to satisfy his own doubts. “I don’t want you to be late to your class so, maybe I’ll see you later, okay?”

He was letting you off the hook. Giving you a chance to make a hasty escape. If you had a brain in your head, you’d take it. But you couldn’t just ignore the poorly masked hurt in his eyes. Somehow, he got it into his head that this was his fault, and you couldn’t just let him sit with that.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Jay. You’ve been amazing. I just feel like I should be doing something. I want to contribute.”

“All you need to focus on is recovering. Don’t worry about the money thing, I know people get a little weird about it, but it’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You crossed your arms over your stomach as you leaned against the counter. “I feel this pull to be active, to help people. I don’t know what I used to do for a living or even what I’m good at. I just know I have to try. There must be something I can do to be useful in the world.”

“Y/N, you’ve got a heart the size of Texas. I’m not surprised that you want to help people. And you should follow that feeling, but you gotta walk before you run.”

You gave a small smile, “Why do you think I’m in geriatric aerobics? I still get tired and my stamina is crap. I’m trying to build up my strength. Maybe I’ll stumble upon a forgotten talent.”

“I’m sure you will.” Jensen studied you for a moment, there was still a bit of tension in your posture. Your beautiful eyes were still a little guarded. He was certain there was more to it but decided to drop it for now.

“You should get going, don’t want to be late for class.”

“Yeah,” you picked up the forgotten gym bag and headed for the door. “Hey, um… do you think you’ll have a late night tonight?”

“Actually, I’ve got a light schedule. I’ll probably get out of there at a decent time.”

“Well, maybe we could have supper,” you suggested, chewing on your lower lip. “I saw a Tupperware in the back of the freezer that said Five Alarm.”

Jensen let out low whistle, “Oh, I don’t know Y/N. That’s Grandma Ackles award winning, Five Alarm Chili, it would burn the pants off a little lady like you.”

You scoffed, “If you can take it, I can take it.”

“I’m a Texan. I was born breaking horses and breathing fire.” He laid it on thick, exaggerating his accent. When he added a wink, you turned red.

“Shut up,” you laughed, shaking your head. The man was too cute, and he knew it.

“Alright, alright. I’ll start the crockpot and get the Pepto on standby.”

There was such softness in his green gaze as it flickered over your face. This wasn’t the first time a moment like this stretched out between the two of you. He said so much with those eyes of his, you swore you could feel the caress of them on your soul. Yet, he held back, closing his hands into loose fists at his sides. The warmth in his eyes turned uncertain and in that moment all you wanted to do was reassure him.

Your doubts quieted just long enough for your instincts called the shots. You stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.

Jensen immediately reciprocated, his strong arms coming around you, holding you close. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This felt right. You felt right. Every time he had you in his arms, he felt something settle in his heart. You felt like home, it was that simple.

“You should get going,” he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t want to worry Mrs. Hudson.”

You felt tingly. Warm and fuzzy, all the way down to the soles of your shoes. No wonder Dean Winchester was so popular, the man portraying him was everything a woman could possibly want. Kind, strong, handsome, and funny. Hard working and generous. You had a long way to go if you were going to be worthy of a man like that. Better get started.

“Yeah, you’re right. See you for dinner?”

“It’s a date.”

You were still floating when you stepped into the elevator. You were no closer to answering the million questions you had about yourself, but you felt more centered. More sure of yourself and your path forward. Jensen always managed to help ground you and settle the doubts buzzing in your brain. That was just part of his magic.

The elevator paused after just a couple of floors, stopping to pick up another passenger. The doors slid open to reveal a small child. A little boy with shiny, black hair and a Buzz Lightyear doll clutched in his arms.

“Hey there,” you smiled, looking around for the adult who must be close by. “Are you lost?”

He didn’t say anything, but his big, brown eyes welled with tears as he hugged his doll even tighter.

You stepped out of the elevator and crouched down to his level. Poor little guy’s terrified.

“Is your mom around? Or your dad?” Getting no answer and seeing no worried parent around you tried another approach. “Do you live on this floor?”

This time he shrugged.

“A lot of these hallways look alike, huh? I get a little lost myself… say, do you know that big, fancy fountain downstairs? The one with the lights and the fish?”

His brown eyes grew wide, and he nodded. Jackpot, kids love those koi fish.

“Well, there is a really nice lady at the desk right by that fountain. She knows everyone in this building and knows where we all live. I bet if we ask her really nice, she will help us out.” You stood and held your hand out to him, “What do you say?”

Keeping Buzz in one arm, he grabbed your hand tightly and rode down to the lobby by your side.

His name was Christopher, and his frantic mother was already at the reception desk. The squirming toddler on her hip squealed and reached out when she saw you walking towards them.

“Mama!” Christopher tugged out of your hand and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him across the lobby.

“Christopher!” The mother dropped to her knees, scooping him up along with his sister. From the muffled, relieved scolding, you pieced together that he’d been playing hide and seek with his sibling and got a little too creative.

“You scared me to death!”

“I’m sorry Mama,” he cried into her shoulder.

You picked up the discarded doll and gave the frazzled mother a smile, “There’s no harm done. We just took a little elevator ride. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Maddy,” she replied. She allowed her children to slide to the floor but kept a hold of their hands. “Thank you so much… I swear these two will be the death of me!”

You looked a little more closely at the pair, they were like a matched set. Same height, same facial features, eye color, hair. One boy and one girl. “Twins?”

“Christopher and Casey. When they turned four, they figured out how to bypass the Netflix password and open any locked door. I think they’re bent on world domination.”

You laughed and noticed the tiny paint splatters in Maddy’s clothes and across her face. She wore old overalls with ripped knees, rolled up at the ankle and a faded bandana keeping her hair up. Her bare feet were paint splattered too, she obviously just ran out of her apartment in a hurry.

Middle of a project. Hyper, bored kids. Single mom?

“Would you like some help?”

Turns out you were right. Madison “Maddy” Montgomery was a single mother of five-year-old twins. Christopher and Casey. Her ex, Jake, was a military man who valued his career more than his wife and kids. He still kept in touch, but really had no interest in raising a family. A year ago, she moved to Vancouver to be closer to her sister and have a fresh start.

“So, what happened to your face? You owe money to the mob?”

“Boating accident,” you replied, loading your roller with paint. “I zigged when I should have zagged.”

Maddy rolled out a heavy drop cloth over the hardwood floors of her dining room. “Rookie mistake. So, what do you do when you’re not wrangling wayward toddlers?”

“Well, today I do this.”

“No kids of your own, huh? What do you do for a living?”

“Ah, well, I’m not really sure.”

“Identity crisis?” Maddy guessed.

You kept your attention on applying paint evenly. Part of you wanted to just gloss over the details of your life, keep the conversation light. After all, it was a pretty strange set of circumstances. Instead, you decided to take a leap of faith and be honest.

“Sort of. Amnesia.”

Maddy paused mid-way through taping off the woodwork. “Whoa, seriously?”

Before you knew it, the whole story came tumbling out. It was such a relief to share it with someone. The aerobics group only knew cursory details about your injuries and physical limitations. Jensen and Jared knew and were great, of course. But this was the first time you actually told someone about it. A perfect stranger, until an hour ago.

“Wow. Y/N, that’s… that’s intense. So, you have no idea who you are. Where you’re from, you’re family. Nothing?”

“No. Not really, just my first name and a couple of random memories.”

“That’s…. wow. That must be terrifying.”

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “Mostly, its frustrating. Thank God for Jensen, he helps keep me from spiraling out of control.”

A look of wide-eyed recognition crossed Maddy’s face. “Wait, Jensen Ackles? Your dashing hero is the super hottie in the penthouse?”

You stole a look over shoulder, “Yes?”

Maddy laughed then, “Girl!”

“Do you know him?” you asked casually.

“Not like you do, obviously,” Maddy teased. “I’ve met him in passing a couple of times, he helped me carry in groceries. Super sweet guy and gorgeous. My sister watches that show of his religiously.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten into it recently myself.”

“You don’t say?”

“Shut up,” you grinned, unable to stop yourself.

“I heard he was back on the market, finally got rid of that ball and chain.”

“He was married?”

“You weren’t kidding about that amnesia, huh?” Maddy took a slender paint brush and started on the edging work. “I only ran into her the once. One of those tight faced, model types, you know. Kinda bitchy, dismissive. I was relived to hear he divorced, a guy like that deserves better.”

Your mind was ticking away. Jensen had never mentioned a wife. Ex or otherwise. With your concussion, you steered clear of computers. Plus, something about looking up information about your friend on the internet seemed sleezy. Mean. Deceitful, even. And Jensen was that, he was your friend. No matter where things went with him, first and most importantly, he was your friend.

“Yeah, he deserves better.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Maddy and the kids. By the end of the day the dining room had received two coats of paint and the kids were successfully fed and down for a nap. Casey fussed a bit, but eventually settled. Maddy said both kids had been down with the flu a couple of weeks ago, but Casey hadn’t been able to shake it completely yet.

“It’s par for the parenting course,” the young mother explained. “The doctor says its because of her allergies. Always worse this time of year. Her father was the same way.”

“Poor kiddo,” you murmured. Something tickled at the back of your mind. You couldn’t quite shake it nor bring it to the surface. God, was that ever frustrating! Your only choice was to leave it be until it decided to let you remember it. Pushing yourself would only bring on a migraine.

You exchanged numbers with Maddy as she saw you to the door and promised to help her tackle the kitchen when the time came. That 70’s style linoleum had to go!

You were happier, lighter as you headed back to the apartment. You felt more normal than you had since waking up in the hospital. Today’s activities hadn’t been what you expected, but they were exactly what you needed. You could feel tentative hope blooming that perhaps you weren’t broken after all. There was a part of you that survived the accident after all. You still had the ability to make friends.

A part of you worried that although he said otherwise, Jensen was only interested in spending time with you because he felt guilty. But the afternoon with Maddy and her kids bolstered your confidence and worked to quiet those doubts.

There was a spring in your step by the time you got home. The smell of Grandma Ackles chili had your mouth watering the minute you opened the door. No wonder it was award winning. Your phone buzzed with a text from Jensen saying he’d be home in an hour. That left you just enough time to shower and change out of your rumpled clothes before dinner.

“Looks like someone’s in a good mood,” Jensen said, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it on a one of the bar stools.

There was music flowing from the sound system and the kitchen table was set for two. You were wearing an outfit he had never seen before. A simple, soft sweater in light blue and a dark, denim skirt that hit mid-thigh. Those incredible legs of yours were encased in thermal tights that several of the ladies on set favored. You turned to him with a smile, your long hair was unbound and swung freely around your shoulders as you moved.

“I am in a good mood, had a good day.”

“Yeah?” he asked, as you handed him a beer.

You opened a bottle of water for yourself, “Yeah. It was a great day.”

And so the evening went. Lovely, normal, warm, homey. The two of you exchanged stories of how you spent your days. Jensen was thrilled to hear you’d made a new friend. He could see the difference in your posture, you were hopeful. And your laugh was back.

Sitting there with you, having dinner at the end of the day, fulfilled a fantasy that he’d kept buried deep down. It was so simple; most people took it for granted. It was the feeling of family. He was close to his family growing up, and still was in a lot of ways. But he wanted one of his own. A best friend to go through life with, a partner. Danneel was supposed to be that for him. It looked like it on the surface, but it never felt like it. Never felt like this.

Y/N listened intently as he told her mundane details of his day on set. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as it could be. No fight scenes, no big speeches. Pretty boring from his perspective. His ex-wife certainly would have thought so, but not you. You were fascinated. Maybe it was because you didn’t come from a Hollywood background like Danneel did. You thought it was the most magical thing you’d ever heard. It reminded Jensen of his first trip to a television set. He thought it was magical too. He’d forgotten that until now, and it felt good to be reminded of it. To be reminded of why he fell in love with the film industry to begin with.

The two of you had loaded the dishwasher and moved to the living room to unwind when the doorbell rang, followed by frantic knocking.

Jensen got to his feet and signaled for you to stay put when you went to follow him. It was late and no one ever came to the door without at least texting first. There was a flash of Dean in him at that moment, protective.

He looked through the peephole, then unlocked and opened the door. “Can I help you?”

From your place on the couch, you could hear familiar voices and you were quickly at his side, “Maddy? What’s wrong?”

Your new friend was frantic. Christopher was beside her, hiding behind her legs, while his sister wailed in her mother’s arms. “Y/N, hey I’m sorry to bother you. It’s Casey, her fever spiked, and I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Do you need to go to the E.R.? We’ll give you a ride,” Jensen offered, concern written all over his face.

“No, my sister is on her way. I’m know its short notice, but would you watch Chrissy?” Maddy asked, shifting Casey on her hip. “I have no idea how long this is going to take; I could be there all night and that’s torture on a five-year-old.”

“Yeah, of course,” you were already grabbing your shoes to head up to Maddy’s apartment.

“He can stay with us,” Jensen said without hesitation. “We’ve got it covered, no problem.”

The relief on Maddy’s face was instantaneous. “Really?! Oh, God, thank you so much! I owe you.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” you assured her and held out a hand to Christopher who threw himself into your arms. “Keep us posted, okay?”

“I will, thank you again!”

Jensen closed the door as Maddy disappeared down the hall and you stood with the toddler clinging to you.

“So…. Nintendo?” he suggested.

If you weren’t already completely charmed by Jensen Ackles before, you certainly were now. The man loved kids and it was adorable. He quickly won over the little boy with chocolate milk and his collection of remote-control cars. You had a suspicion that they weren’t meant for rough play, but Jensen didn’t seem to care. In fact, he was having a ball! He set up the living room and foyer as an elaborate racetrack and the three of you stood on the couch in your stocking feet while cars zipped around the floor. The floor, which was lava, of course.

After an hour or so, they moved on to the world of video games, which was housed in Jensen’s bedroom. You let the two of them hash it out, since your head was beginning to ache. Video games had that effect on concussions, so you sat back on the bed and watched with great amusement as Christopher beat Jensen at Mario cart.

After a few minutes, the bright colors and movement made the headache bad enough that you decided to go grab a couple of pain pills. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and a sharp, stabbing pain shot through your skull.

“Oh!” Your hand went to your temple, then it was gone. As suddenly as it had started, the pain left and in its place was a memory. The thought that had been tugging at you all afternoon finally broke through.

You didn’t notice Jensen was by your side until he touched your shoulder. “Y/N? You okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you processed the new information that had just shaken loose. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just remembered something. I’ll be right back.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and went out into the hallway, leaving Jensen to keep an eye on your houseguest.

“Y/N?” Maddy answered, her voice slightly muffled by background noise from the hospital. “Is everything okay? Is Christopher alright?”

“He’s fine, I just thought of something. Have you seen the doctor yet?”

“They just took us back to one of the exam rooms now. This place is packed!”

“Okay listen, I noticed something about Casey earlier today, but it didn’t click with me until now. There is a dark ring around the iris of her eye, it’s called a Kayser-Fleischer ring. It’s caused by a buildup of copper deposits.”

Maddy was looking her child over on the other end of the line, after a moment she responded. “Yeah. Yeah, I see it.”

“Tell the doctor to check for Wilson’s disease. It’s a liver disorder. It’s rare, but treatable.”

“Wilson’s disease, got it. How are you so sure about this?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, wishing you’d gotten more than just a flash of a magazine article to go on. “I don’t know. Call it instinct.”

Jensen looked up when you slipped back into the bedroom, “Everything alright?”

You returned to your spot on the bed and Christopher came up to cuddle beside you. You ran your hand over his hair in soothing gesture as your turned over the new information in your mind. You were relived and excited that something useful had broken through. Hopefully, it would help. You remembered that article word for word, if caught early on and monitored closely, people could live quite easily with it. Your gut said that would be the case for Casey.

“I was just checking in with Maddy. They’re fine, just waiting for the doctor.”

He nodded and looked down at the child who was snuggled into your side. Obviously, he had chosen his place to hunker down for the night and Jensen was more than okay with sharing his space. “Good. How about we wind down with a movie?”

“Toy Story,” Christopher piped up.

“Excellent choice,” you agreed.

A couple of hours later, the credits were rolling and the three of you were cuddled together in the center of the massive, king-sized bed. The kid conked out early on and you followed not long after. Jensen didn’t realize he had nodded off himself until the sound of your phone vibrating against the side table jolted him awake. He extracted himself from the cocoon of blankets and pillows and reached over you to grab the phone. You were a heavy sleeper and never even moved when he answered in a hushed tone.

“Maddy?”

“Jensen, hi. Sorry, I know its late.”

“No, it’s okay. Y/N and Chrissy are asleep, but I’m up. How’s Casey?”

“Better,” the young mother breathed, relief clear in her voice. “We’re on our way home now. Y/N was right. I still have to bring Casey back for tests in a few days just to be sure but, Y/N was on the money. The doctor didn’t even want to check, thought I was out of my mind. Thank god she saw it, I never even noticed!”

“Yeah,” Jensen murmured, looking down at your peaceful face. “Thank god.”

“Seriously though, how did she know about that disease? The doctor in the E.R. wasn’t even familiar with it.”

“I don’t know… she’s full of surprises. Listen, Chrissy is pretty comfortable here and you’ve had a hell of a night. Why don’t we keep him over-night and bring him home in the morning?”

“Oh my god, are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s no problem, he’s a great kid.”

“It’s official, you are my new favorite neighbor! Thank you, Jensen. Seriously, you’ve been great. And tell Y/N thanks, I’m so grateful I met her today!”

Jensen smiled as he hung up the phone and put it back on the charger. He settled back down into the bed and pulled the covers over the three of you. God, he’d had fun with you and the kid tonight. Until you came into his life, he was never around long enough to get to know any of his neighbors. It felt incredibly good to be a part of the community, even in this small way and he had you to thank for it. Maddy had it right. Grateful was exactly how he felt as he drifted off to sleep. Grateful he’d met you. Grateful you’d stuck around. Grateful you were curled up beside him, even with a child sandwiched in the middle.

The mystery of who you were was slowly unfolding as more fragments of your memories came through. And he was grateful to be at your side, witnessing the slow reveal of the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

[themarvelhorse]

Okay first of all… fuck. My head now hurts. But maybe…. maybe a cat is just a cat.

If a cat may just be a cat, perhaps a Rogue is just a Rouge.

Tone tracking… got it! Imma have to go back and re-analyze some of this. 

Does she know she might have ADD/ADHD? Hmm… good question, though I wouldn’t think so. Hard to know if there’s a problem until you experience the right life change that you’re expected to be able to handle like everyone else. Could be that or could be something else or even neither. Hard to know for sure because she just won’t go to see a professional about it. 

Ayyy chalk another one up for this Marvel! Seasonal depression can be rough. 

I will now be scanning every chapter for those kid names too.

I… really don’t know what could be expanded on in the Ex Files… And with some other folks out there writing in the EftD universe, there’s even more potential. The possibilities are endless! Sometimes you just need a springboard someone else set up to dive into a pool of inspiration. 

Cromulent embiggens my vocabulary.

The thought that Celestia might just be watching over Sunset like that really warms the heart. 

I’ve learned from Medusa! I’ll never look at that mirror! NEVER!

Now to figure out which parts of the body swap analysis were closest…

I’m imagining how Luna would react to her pony self now. The shock and the accusations towards her human sister about “How could you do this?!” when the circumstances that led to it were totally different would be great and terrible. 

English takes so many words from other languages we can’t even tell anymore. There’s a certain je ne sais quoi to it. 

Is- could- might… Solstice’s dad be Sombra Sombra? It’s not like Radiant Hope is necessarily Radiant Rogue…

Buh! Barbarian! Buh-buh-Barbarrrrian!<3

Poor Solstice. Missed opportunities galore. Have to prioritize survival and understanding yourself first, especially when it feels like you’re so different that you're just misunderstood and alone for a good portion of your life.

I will watch that crown like a HAW- hey wait another parallel to Sunset wow neat wait what were we talking about? 

OH BOY CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HOW MUCH WORSE IT’LL GET :’D 

And I’m glad you like my thoughts on these too, Bevin!

I'd love to get more of these out sooner and more frequently, hopefully life will let me give it the focus it deserves.

Empathy for the Devil Commentary: Chapter 9

Rebel Without a Cause

Note: There might be some parts that don’t make sense because even though I edited this thing at least twice I’m still finding errors anyway.

ENJOY IT’S OVER 5000 WORDS :’D

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