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Kinktober Day 30 - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Seonghwa + Somnophilia & Body Worship

Anonymous Said: Seonghwa from ateez. Consensual Somnophilia & Body worship. Yandere & fallen angel or guardian angel. A/n: I am SO sorry that this is late, life has just been a bit hectic lately. Again, it's Hwa, so I couldn't help myself. It's not as long as I was originally going to make it, but I like where it ends honestly. He's intense in the best ways imo, and I do really love how this turned out. I also have a yandere angel ateez series planned at some point where Hwa is an archangel, so I'm also really excited about that. It's heavily inspired by his Will To Power solo stage, so I hope you all can look forward to that at some point! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Monster Features, Yandere, Blood mentioned in brief (not in a kinky way), Lots of religious metaphors, Overstimulation, Oral (fem. rec), Fingering (fem. rec), Squirting, Minor Dacryphilia (if you squint), There's a lot :) Word Count: 4,821 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

Park Seonghwa is a man of many emotions.

Well… technically he’s not a man, but there is no one in this universe that makes him feel more human than you. 

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. You are his one saving grace in this hellish landscape called earth, and he will do anything to protect that fact. No one is off limits. Nothing is too much. For when it comes to you, you deserve nothing but the best this world has to offer. 

His best. 

Seonghwa will always make sure of that.

The water feels cool against his skin despite the steam rising through the air. One of his hands is braced against the stone tiles of the shower wall, letting the flow of water cascade down his back and pool around the drain. Red streaks against his skin, little rivulets creating vein-like patterns across his figure as he washes away the horrific events of the evening.

You can never know. You will never know. 

Seonghwa has spent his whole life guarding those most precious to him. Now, you’re the only thing left that matters.

You. Who still sleeps soundly beneath the thick covers of his duvet as he steps out of the bathroom a short while later. Your features rest in a soft expression of pure bliss, chest rising and falling steadily. The light of the moon only serves to make your skin glow, illuminating every inch of you that he has always loved more than anything else in this godforsaken world.

A pleased smile tugs at his lips, eyes shining with nothing but adoration as he observes you through the dark. Lightly, he fluffs his damp hair with the towel held in his hand, the one wrapped around his waist hanging dangerously low. Small droplets of water cascade down his chest which he is quick to wipe away.

After all, you’re expecting him to join you, and he hates to keep you waiting.

With his lips curling upwards into that all too familiar loving smile, he takes a step towards the bed. Large, fluffy wings emerge from his back, deep red in colour. As he fluffs the feathers lightly, he lets the towel fall from his waist. The other is quick to join the growing heap on the floor, knowing you’ll more than likely scold him in the morning for tossing the damp material in the middle of the room.

Sometimes, Seonghwa swears he does these types of things on purpose just to hear you scold him. The way you shake your head in exasperation, muttering about whatever it is he’s done this time makes him all giddy inside. It means you’re paying attention to him. It means you care.

Or maybe he just enjoys making things up to you in any and every way he can.

A massage here. Breakfast in bed there. Perhaps even you allowing him to get lost in that glorious heat that rests between your legs, making you shake in uncontrollable bliss.

After all, it is one of his absolute favourite pastimes.

Seonghwa thought he knew what it meant to worship something, or someone, wholeheartedly. That is, until he met you.

All of the time in the world is still too short of an eternity to be spent with you by his side.

The stars pale in comparison to you, for you hold entire galaxies in your eyes. Your smile warms his very soul each and every time he sees that glorious expression stretch across your face. All music sounds dull whenever the melodic symphony of your laughter filters through the air. Not to mention how strong and intelligent you are. 

Kind, witty, caring… The list of your perfections continues to grow everyday, and everyday he knows you is a blessing beyond his wildest dreams. Seonghwa could spend hours lost within the confines of your mind, learning everything there is to know about you, and so much more. Each new discovery is a revelation of the highest regard, and he strives to satisfy in every way.

Every word you speak is gospel, and he is your most devout follower.

Lifting the covers gently, Seonghwa slides into bed beside you. He’s extra careful to not disturb you, not wanting to accidentally wake you at this time. Still, he cannot help but shift closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. The way you subconsciously turn into him, snuggling deeper into his embrace only serves to make him smile.

Even in your dreams, you always know how to find your way home. To him.

Subtly, his arms tighten around you, placing a tender kiss to the top of your head. His wings wrap around you, encasing you in a soft red cocoon and ensuring your safety. Your comfort and wellbeing are his number one priorities, and once he knows you’re settled in his embrace, he fully allows himself to relax. 

Soon, his own eyes are fluttering shut, drifting off to meet you inside of your dreams.

A few hours later, Seonghwa is blinking awake. His head now rests on top of your chest, your arms cradling him to you in your sleep. 

Despite such a short bout of rest, he feels refreshed, having slept deeper with you safely wrapped in his arms. Gladly, he melts into your embrace, breathing in your scent and letting everything you completely surround him.

The moon still rests high in the sky, a gentle breeze drifting through the slight crack in the open window. The room is quiet, nothing but the soft sounds of your mingling breaths filling the space.

Seonghwa holds you tighter. Turning his head, his lips press tenderly against your chest, just above your heart. His hair tickles your skin, and you shiver lightly from his touch.

Peeking his dark gaze upwards, Seonghwa studies your features. Your brow seems to be furrowed slightly in discomfort, and a moment later, you squirm lightly beneath him. Your nails suddenly dig into the skin of his shoulders, a soft, muffled whimper escaping your lips.

Worry tugs at his features as he reaches a hand up to soothe your brow. He’s quick to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin as he lifts himself slightly above you. Intently, he studies your face, searching for any signs of what may be the problem.

That’s when it hits him. You must be having a nightmare.

Just as he shifts his hand to your shoulder in attempts to wake you up, you let out a sound that has him freezing above you.

His name. You moan his name.

A smug grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he realizes what’s really going on here. Pride swells in his chest at the fact that he could make you dream of him like this, knowing how often he dreams of you. What serves to make this moment ever better is when you let out another small whimper, tightening your hands on his shoulders as your hips jerk upwards against his own.

“Pretty Girl,” His low voice purrs out. “What could you possibly be dreaming of, hmm?”

Cocking his head to the side, he stares down at you. His chest is pressed flush against your own, forearms supporting him on either side of you as he settles more comfortably between your legs.

Leaning into you, he begins to place soft kisses against your cheek. Slowly, he trails his lips down your jawline, tracing over your pulse, then back up again. All the while, that same smirk tugs at his features.

His nose nudges tenderly against your jaw.

“Why live in a fantasy when I can make all of your dreams a reality?”

More kisses are placed upon the skin of your neck as he slowly begins to make his way down your body. His touch is feather light, wings twitching excitedly in the air behind him as he tugs your shirt down gently. The straps of your tank top easily slide down your arms, and with a quick movement, he’s snapping them as if they were nothing but brittle string.

The sound of tearing fabric echoes around the room as he shreds through your shirt, pausing lightly to check on you. He forgot how loud that could be, his mind having been focussed on exposing you to the most pleasure that he can give you. Of course, that meant exposing you, but he doesn’t want to wake you from your blissful slumber quite yet.

Not even his chest rises or falls with breath as he hovers above you, watching you closely for any signs of movement. After a little while passes with your eyes still shut, steady breathing and soft whimpers still falling from you, he breathes a sigh of relief.

Slowly, carefully, he discards your shirt, hands beginning to trace over your sides. His touch is gentle, eyes taking in every bare inch of skin presented to him. Nothing but admiration shines in his gaze, a dark, primal sort of lust hiding within. He’s hoping beyond anything to have you smoothly transition from your dream into reality. For when you do, he’ll be ready and waiting with open arms.

There is nothing more rewarding to him than your pleasure. The fact that he alone is the only one able to bring you to such ecstasy makes his heart swell with so much love and pride within his chest. Only he can touch you like this. Only he lives to serve you, to make you see the far reaches of the heavens each time your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your pleasure is his pleasure, and he could spend eternity worshipping you, all while making you scream his name.

Ever so gently, he presses his face against your chest, right in the valley of your breasts. His hands come up to cup such tender flesh, inhaling deeply as he nuzzles against you. Again, his lips press a tender kiss directly over your heart, wings fluttering in content as his thumbs tease over your nipples.

Fingers trace languidly against your skin, needing to feel every inch of you beneath his touch. Slowly, Seonghwa begins trailing feather light kisses down your body, heart fluttering in anticipation. Every second that passes, your scent becomes stronger, your thighs subconsciously squeezing around his sides. He knows you need him just as desperately as he needs you, and he does not want to waste any more time than he already has.

Reaching the hemline of your sleep shorts, Seonghwa dips the tips of his fingers beneath the band. A tender kiss is placed onto the skin of your stomach, nose nudging against you affectionately. The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he slowly begins tugging your shorts down your thighs, being extra cautious not to wake you.

Of course, Seonghwa cannot help himself. How can he when he has the most perfect being laid out before him? Temptation wins out as he presses loving kisses against your thighs with each inch revealed to him. Once he fully removes your shorts, he nearly lets out a low moan when the sight of your bare pussy, needy and already shimmering with your arousal, is presented to him.

Tossing your shorts somewhere in the room, Seonghwa is quick to run his hands up the length of your legs. His fingers ghost against your skin, breathing deepening as your scent completely immerses him in everything you. Once he reaches the tops of your thighs, his thumbs begin to softly brush against the sensitive flesh. The way you shiver beneath his touch, even while still asleep, makes him smile.

Again, he leans into you, pressing delicate kisses against the skin of your thighs. His teeth graze your flesh, teasing at you as he continues to brush his thumbs over you.

Every little sound you make, every twitch and shudder of your body, has his cock absolutely throbbing against the mattress. A carnal ache resides within him. A desperation only you can satiate. Yet, when it comes to you, he always wants more.

Finally, unable to wait even a moment longer, Seonghwa presses his face against your cunt. He noses along your slit, inhaling deeply as his whole body shudders from your scent. Teasingly, his tongue flicks out to taste you, and even the briefest touch of your arousal on his lips has him moaning shamelessly against your core.

Something within himself snaps. 

With his whole body shaking in need, Seonghwa buries himself deep in your cunt. Desperate, guttural moans escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, eagerly suckling at the sweet nectar that flows from between your legs. His lips place a few chaste kisses against your clit before he’s wrapping them around such a sensitive little bud, suckling at you eagerly.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, tongue flattening against your clit before rolling in circles. His hot breath hits your cunt with every exhale, wings fluttering above him as he groans lowly. Desperately, his hands tighten over your waist, pulling you even closer into his touch.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest once he feels your fingers tangle in his hair. The way you hold him to your cunt, tugging him in closer has him redoubling his efforts over you.

Heavy breathing permeates the room, your hips beginning to grind against his face in time with his movements. Sleep still clings to the corners of your vision, eyes barely cracked open to peer at him through the darkness. Each flick of his tongue over your clit has pleasant jolts of pure ecstasy coursing through your veins, already feeling so close to the edge as that familiar pressure builds within.

His movements are desperate, shaking his head back and forth while sucking your clit between his lips. Sharp, hooded eyes glint up at you through the shadows, his hips beginning to grind against the mattress as his fingers dig into your skin.

Again, he tugs you in impossibly closer, tongue slipping down to dip between your folds. Swirling the muscle around your entrance, he hums, pressing himself firmer into your cunt. His nose grinds against your clit, tongue buried as deep as possible within you as he licks and sucks almost uncontrollably.

The sound of your moans create a beautiful symphony around him, urging him on. He can tell you’re close. The way your thighs begin to shake around his head makes his cock twitch. His hips grind harder against the mattress, silently begging for you to fall apart with him as he brings you to ecstasy.

Wrapping his lips around your clit once more, it’s like you answer his every prayer.

Back arching from the bed, you come with a loud cry of his name. Your thighs squeeze around his head, holding him in place as he flattens his tongue against you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you grind your hips against him. Whimpers and moans echo alongside blissful sighs of his name, your heart racing as pleasure floods your veins.

The moment he feels you flooding his tongue, his eyes roll into the back of his head. With your thighs closing around his head, his pleased cries get muffled against your cunt as he comes with you. Hot spurts of his come soak into the sheets beneath his hips, fingers digging harshly into your skin. His wings flare out behind him, shuddering along with his whole body as he keeps himself buried against you.

Slowly, you begin to catch your breath.

Bringing your one hand up, you rub at your face. Blinking a few times to clear your vision, you spare a glance at the seraphim between your legs.

Dark eyes already stare up at you lovingly, a soft chuckle shaking his chest. His fingers smooth over your skin, leaning in once more to place a tender kiss against your clit.

“Good morning, My Beloved.” At the way you simply groan in response, a knowing smile begins to tug at his lips. “Good dream?”

“Mmmh, the best…” Humming, you rub lightly at your eyes. A moment later, you pause in your movements, brow furrowing slightly as you take in just how dark the room still is. “What time is it?”

Seonghwa, who has begun placing tender kisses along the skin of your thighs once more, smiles up at you from between your legs. “Not yet dawn.”

You stretch lightly, brushing a hand over your forehead as you take a deep breath in. “What time did you get in last night? I didn’t hear you come home.”

That single, simple word makes him smile, heart warming inside of his chest.

“Not that long ago.” He noses along your thigh, drifting closer and closer to your core with each movement. “I’m glad my return didn’t wake you. Though, it was a treat seeing you wearing those Tweety Bird pyjama shorts I got you.”

Your face flares with heat, averting your gaze to the side.

“They’re comfy.” You mumble, the cutest of pouts tugging at your lips.

Seonghwa chuckles, a soft expression resting on his features as he admires every inch of you before him. The way your fingers lightly begin to play with some strands of his hair has him leaning into your touch.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest, hands caressing over the sides of your thighs and up your hips. Lightly, his gaze flicks downwards, shifting between staring into your eyes before glancing hungrily at your dripping cunt.

“Beloved…”

The desperate moan Seonghwa lets out goes straight to your core, causing you to clench around nothing. A movement of which he eagerly catches.

“Yes, Seonghwa?”

A shiver caresses his spine as you coo his name so tenderly.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“More.” His voice trembles in need as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He pulls your closer, chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares, transfixed, at your weeping cunt. “Give me more.”

“Greedy little angel…” You chuckle, tracing your fingers over the side of his cheek. “Don’t you know that gluttony is a sin?”

“But I made a mess, Beloved.” Wide eyes peer up at you, a dark lust swirling behind the guise of innocence. “A beautiful, intoxicating mess. It’s only right that I clean you up.”

“You can’t fool me, Angel.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards in amusement, eyes shining as you peer down at him. “I know you only want to clean me up just so you can make a mess out of me again.”

A pout tugs at his features, eyebrows drooping dramatically. “But I love making a mess out of you.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, then.” You smile, gently brushing some hair out of his eyes. “I love it, too.”

Seonghwa does not need to be told twice.

Without wasting another second, his tongue is back on you. This time, his movements are a lot slower. More precise. No drop is to go to waste. He wants to take his time, letting you feel every ounce of his love and passion for you. He wants you to know just how much he desires you, and just how much he enjoys this.

Pleased hums escape him as he drags his tongue through your folds, laving his mouth over your entire pussy. Dark eyes lock onto your own as he suckles and licks at your cunt, wings fluttering lightly in the air. His hands creep up your sides, touch trailing against your skin as he shifts to cup your breasts. He pinches at your nipples, rolling the pert buds between his fingers before tugging at them gently.

A low moan parts your lips, arching into his touch. Almost immediately, your hands come up to cover his own, pressing them firmer against your breasts. The content rumble that shakes his chest goes straight to your core, clenching around his tongue as he buries the muscle into your tight cunt.

Curling his tongue, his nose brushes tenderly against your clit. He pinches at your nipples once more, squeezing the flesh of your breasts appreciatively. As your hips begin to grind against him, he smirks. Humming contently, Seonghwa shifts to wrap his lips back around that sensitive little bundle of nerves, suckling lightly before flicking his tongue against you.

Soft moans and whimpers slip passed your lips, fingers returning to his hair to pull him in closer. Your whole body feels as if it’s floating, completely relaxing beneath his touch as pleasure courses through your veins. 

Everything about him is sinful. From the way his dark eyes shine beneath the light of the moon, captivating you in their loving, lustful pools. To the way his hands trace over your skin, burning multiple paths of desire, comfort, safety, and fulfillment all at the same time. You cannot count the amount of times he’s lost himself in you using just his tongue, and you know that tonight is no exception.

Your heart swells with nothing but love as he reaches out for your free hand. Almost instantly, he’s intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently. 

He’s right here, and he always will be.

Using his opposite hand, he parts your folds with two fingers. His tongue licks a long strip up your cunt before flattening over your clit. Now that he’s opened you completely to him, there is nothing in the way for him to be able to give you the most pleasure that he can.

A deep groan reverberates against you, hot breaths hitting your cunt with every exhale.

“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure to worship.” A tender kiss is placed upon your clit. “Perfect, delectable little cunt… Only one I’ll ever want. Only one I’ll ever need.”

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, thighs shaking from his words. Your fingers tighten in his hair, squeezing his hand in your own as you whimper his name.

“That’s it, Beloved,” He coos, bumping his nose against your clit affectionately. “Say my name. Scream my name to the heavens and tell them who your eternal servant is. Tell them who it always will be. In this life, and the next. For all eternity.”

Your whole body begins to tremble as he wraps his lips around your clit, gently suckling on that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He purposely keeps you suspended in bliss, teetering right on the edge as he watches your whole being flood with ecstasy.

Pride fills his chest at how you whimper and whine for him, your hips desperately rolling against his tongue as he teases at your cunt.

“Tell me, Beloved,” A harsh suck is given to your clit, his eyes flashing as he locks gazes with you. “Who does such a delectable pussy belong to?”

All that you can manage is a desperate moan, chest heaving as that building pressure becomes almost unbearable within you. You can feel your clit practically pulsating, beginning to clench rhythmically around nothing.

“Who’s pretty pussy am I allowed to worship? To devour?”

“Seonghwa-“

“Say it.” Dark eyes flash beneath the moonlight, tone sharp as he growls lowly. “Come on, Pretty Girl. I want to hear you say it.”

Your breath hitches, nearing choking on a whine. Squeezing your eyes shut at the pleasure overwhelming your every nerve, you attempt to steady your shaking form. Taking a deep breath in, you go to speak.

However, the moment the words begin to form on your lips, Seonghwa wraps his own back around your clit, sucking harshly.

“Fuck-“ Inhaling sharply, your eyes fly open. Your voice borders on a scream as you just manage to choke out, “My pretty pussy is all yours to devour-“

Your words get caught in your throat as another loud curse escapes you, tossing your head back onto the pillows.

Seonghwa snarls against your cunt, shaking his head back and forth rapidly as he eagerly continues to suck at your clit. His hands tighten over you, pulling you impossibly closer as his wings flare out behind him.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, whole body shaking as your back arches from the bed. Your orgasm crashes into you unforgivingly, feet lifting slightly in the air from the intensity. Desperate whines and moans of his name escape you, clenching around nothing as your release floods out of you.

Only, Seonghwa doesn’t stop there.

Your cries of ecstasy only serve to spur him on as he slides the two fingers he had been using to spread your pussy open for him into your cunt. The feeling of your walls sucking him in, squeezing around his digits so delicately makes him groan. A shudder wracks his whole body, eyes closing briefly in bliss as his cock throbs against the sheets. Already he’s so close to coming again, but first, he needs to see you falling apart for him again. Because of him.

With practiced ease, he curls his fingers right up against that special spot inside of you. His tongue flicks at your clit, placing delicate kisses against that sensitive little bud before sucking harshly at it once more. The lewd, wet slurping sounds of his tongue on your cunt fill the room, only serving to make him even more feral than he already is.

High pitched moans escape you, tears of pleasure beginning to line your eyes as your whole body shakes beneath his hold. Your thighs squeeze around his head, not even deterring him in the slightest as you wither and whine. Every little touch makes your head spin, pleasure overwhelming your every sense.

You both wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Fuck- Seonghwa!” You gasp out, eyes squeezing shut as you practically curl into his touch. “Don’t stop-“ A catch in your breath as you cling to him for dear life. “Please, don’t fucking stop!”

A snarl of agreement fills the air, adding more pressure to his fingers as he massages over that special spot deep inside of you. His lips never once leave your clit, hooded gaze locked on your figure and practically demanding that you to fall apart for him right now.

With one final flick over your clit, you do.

Like lightning streaking across the sky, your orgasm crackles through your veins like a flash of electricity. Another scream of his name tears from your throat, broken and desperate as you squirt all over his face. Each movement against your cunt has you shuddering beneath his touch, vision blurring at the corners as the first of your tears of pleasure begin to slide down your cheeks.

Your hold on him is like a vice, grounding yourself to him as your chest heaves with every breath. You can feel something warm and wet splatter lightly against your thighs, Seonghwa’s deep moans beginning to harmonize alongside your own.

The way you notice his wings trembling in the air through your blissful haze causes the corners of your lips to twitch upwards. Knowing he’s just as affected as you are right now makes warmth swell inside of your chest, nothing but love flooding your very soul.

Seonghwa rests his forehead tenderly against your thigh while he catches his breath. His head swims with nothing but you, overwhelmed in the best of ways. Every ounce of his desire for you flows beneath the surface of his skin, drowning him in an undeniable ecstasy that only you can bring him. Seeing you like this - your pure and unfiltered form indulging in all that he has to offer - is unlike any other sensation he has ever felt in his entire existence.

He could never tire of this.

He could never tire of you.

Sliding his fingers from your cunt while releasing his hold on your hand, Seonghwa begins trailing kisses back up your body. Each press of his lips against you is soft, taking his time to admire every contour of your body. Every dip and curve of your glorious figure is sacred to him, and he never wants you to forget how beautiful you truly are. 

How beautiful you have always been.

Finally, his lips return to your own, giving you a deep and tender kiss which conveys his undying affections for you. Soft hums are breathed out against you, Seonghwa cupping your cheek gently in one hand while he slides his opposite arm around your waist. Pulling your chest flush against his own, he settles himself comfortably between your legs.

The feeling of his cock sliding through your wet folds, already hard and aching for you once more, makes you smile.

“My insatiable Little Sinner,” You coo, threading your fingers gently through his hair.

“When it comes to you?” His lips quirk upwards against your own, eyes shining with nothing but pure devotion as he openly admires you before him. “Always.”

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about (lovesick) Hiori Yo keeping a diary.

His parents have always been emotionally unavaible. For them, Hiori was nothing more nothing less than an experiment, the one destined to be what they've always wanted to be and yet never managed to acomplish: someone who wears the title of being "the best in the world".

He also didn't have much (if any) friends. All his time was dedicated to football practice, so the only people he talked to (aside from his parents) were his teammates. And they were nice, sure, but they were not his friends. They were more like acquaintances. The only one he could really call a friend was one of his teammates, Karasu Tabito, and even so he still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the complex thoughts he had.

Because of that, he's never had anyone to talk with. No one to confide about his feelings and emotions. No one to talk about how he wanted to leave his home house (that place didn't feel like a home). How his parents fucked up his sanity. How he didn't really like football that much.

He couldn't keep all these things inside his head anymore. He needed to pour these feelings out. That's why he decided to start a diary.

Grabbing an old notebook and one of those common blue pens, he started writing. The diary was his most treasured possession. It stayed locked inside his bedside table, being away from all of the prying eyes.

Writing felt good. He wrote about his strained relationship with his parents. About soccer practices. About gaming tips. About pretty much everything.

His thoughts about many different themes were written there. That's why his journal didn't really have a specific theme.

Well, at least in the beggining it didn't have.

Because ever since a month or so, all the pages on his diary began to revolve around a girl. You.

He met you during a rather boring math class. The teacher was rambling on and on about algebrics or whatever, and time seemed to freeze because of how utterly shitty the endless class seemed.

"His explanation sucks, doesn't it?"

He heard a female voice coming from beside him. When he turned to the direction of the sound, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever met.

Her hair framed her face perfectly, it's color matching her eyes in the most beautiful way Yo had ever seen. The smile she had on her face seemed to shine, and Hiori found himself smiling back, too.

"Yeah" he sighed, then looked back at the teacher

"I just wish the old hag would shut up"

"I wish he would just shut up"

They spoke at the same time.

Looking at eachother, they both began to laugh. Hard. Clutching your stomach and tearing up kind of laugh. Snorting like a pig laugh. Wheezing. Hitting the table with your fist to try and stop with the loud laughing, but being phisically incapable of stopping.

"Hiori Yo and (Name) (Lastname). Do you want to share with the class what made you laugh so hard? I'm sure they want to laugh to."

"N-No, mister. We're sorry. We-We'll stop" you answered, still trying to stiffle your laugh

"Do not interrupt my class again, or else I'll send you both to the principal's office"

"Okay sir." Hiori answered, not believing a word the teacher said but still a little scared to have his parents find out he went to the principal's office

"Hiori Yo, huh?" You said "It suits you"

"Thank you, miss (Name) (Lastname)." Hiori smirked "Your name is very pretty. It also suits you"

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" You smirked, a mischevious and playful glint on your eyes.

"N-no!" Hiori blushed hard, averting your gaze. His accent got stronger like it always did when he became nervous, and he was quick to correct himself "I-I mean, yes! You're very pretty! B-but I didn't mean to say t-that. Not that you're not pretty! Is just that..."

He was interrupted by the sound of your laugh mixed with the bell signalizing the end of the school day. It's obnoxious sound was such a contrast from your sweet, honey-like melodic laugh.

"Don't worry, I was just teasing you!" You smiled at him, grabbing your backpack and getting up "Well, see you on the next advanced math period, mister Hiori Yo"

You then quickly left, leaving behind a red and speechless Hiori.

He has been obsessed in love with you ever since. He wanted to be with you all of the time, no exceptions. You were just so nice! It seemed like his problems disappeared when you were near. Life seemed brighter, and even his parents noticed the change in his behavior. He was more carefree, happier, lighter.

And never once did he forget to write in his diary. In fact, he wrote about you so much he decided to rip the pages about his parents and other things and make the journal solely based on you.

He wrote about the dates he wanted to go to with you. Wrote about how he wanted to hold hands with you, kiss you till you're both breathless, stargaze with you, game with you. Do basically everything with you.

He detailed how he wanted to confess to you: you would both be in a park, having a picnic, when he would suddenly pull a bouquet from his backpack and put his feelings on the table, making it clear he viewed you as more than a friend. And then you'd laugh and say you like him too, making fun of his strong accent and how much effect you had over him.

Not that he'd mind. As long as your attention was on him, you could humilliate him all you want. He was pathetic.

He even wrote about your wedding, the petunias he wanted to give you and how Hiori (Name) had such a nice ring to it.

He wrote everything in his diary. And that was his fatal flaw.

Because he also wrote about how he wanted to spend his practice time with you. How he wanted to give up on soccer and move in with you to a house on the countryside, just you and him. How he sometimes skipped practices just to go out with you.

"Mom? Dad?"

He would never have thought that, one day, he would forget to lock the diary up. And who would've guessed it would fall in the hands of his parents, who have no idea of privacy.

"Yo, we need to talk about this"

When Hiori saw the notebook in his dad's hand, he swallowed dry. He felt like crying just by imagining what they wanted to discuss about.

Maybe they didn't read it. Yeah, maybe they still respected their son, at least a little bit.

"W-what? How did you..."

"It was on your bed." His mom answered, a stern expression on her face "me and your father came to an agreement after reading it, and..."

"You read it?!" Hiori was furious and sad at the same time. Not surprised, no. He knew they would've done this. "You can't do this! My personal thoughts are in there! It's my diary! You're invading my privacy!"

"Bullshit. Teenagers do not have nor need privacy" his father cut him off "Whatever. What matters is that we read about that (Name) girl. And we've decided..."

No. He can say anything but what he thinks they're bout to say. He can't handle that.

"We don't want you around that girl anymore. She's getting in the way of your football practices. That's why we're moving you to a different school."

No...

No.

NO!

"No she's not!" Hiori screamed, pleaded. He wished that for once his parents would listen to him, think about his feelings at least one time. "I love her! I swear I'll do double the practice! Just, please. Please don't do this" his voice was wavering. He was weak. "Please don't keep her away from me. Please."

"We do this cause we know what's best for you. We're your parents. We know you better than yourself." His mom tried to reason.

"No you don't!" Hiori screamed "She's the best thing that has ever happened to me! You can't do this to me! You can't decide these things in my behalf!"

"We're your parents. We can and we did. End of discussion." His dad gritted out, not an ounce of empathy in his face. "And we also decided you're not keeping a diary anymore. We don't want you hiding things from us."

With a swift move, he threw the notebook inside the fireplace.

"NO!" Hiori screamed, running to collect the ashes and try to save the diary, but it was already too late.

In his knees in front of the fire, Hiori cried. The flames were dancing around as if mocking his sadness, laughing at his disgrace.

He stayed there for so long he lost track of time. His parents were no longer in the room, deciding to finally give their son space. But he didn't want space.

He wanted you.

He stayed motionless until the last flame was unstinguished. And when it finally was, so was his hope for a better future. A future without his parents playing with the strings of his life all the time, treating him like a puppet. A future with no pain.

A future with you.

And so, a single page that survived flew and fell in front of him.

He picked it up.

Dear diary,

I think I can make up with my parents. I didn't told her about the whole situation since I don't want to burden her, but from what she heard, (Name) said we just need to talk. And maybe she's right. Maybe they'll like her just as much as I do, and we can be a big happy family. She makes me feel like everything is possible. I'm sure I love her, and I want to spend all my time by her side...

He couldn't read it anymore.

With a scream, Hiori tore the page apart.

~A/N: Sorry anon, idk how to write angst ☹️

Masterlist

[hotheadedhero]

Daft Pretty Boys

AN: I was going to try and get something Halloween-like out but it's been busy lately. Have some fluffy angst with Raph, instead :D

Raphael x Reader

Warning: kinda angsty, soft-hearted Raph ahead :)

When you blessed the turtles with your bright presence and inevitably befriended them, Raphael didn’t realise just how much of an emotional rollercoaster it would be. As a person, you are amazing. You always make a point to engage with him and his brothers, even for the small things. Other than April, they’ve never felt more welcomed by human company before. The thing is, if he were to put one fault on you, it’s your taste in men. 

You fall fast and hard, and it’s not because of their looks. It’s the ones who have this idea that they know they look good: the confidence they exude, sharp-witted flattery on the end of a hook that you can’t help biting into. You get caught, pulled in, they have their fun, and then you’re chucked back into sea awaiting the next juicy-looking cast of bait. One would think you’d be smart enough to not fall for the same routine tricks over and over again but here we are.

Each time you say, “He’s really sweet,” followed by a “This one is different,” but he never is. You’re always taking that chance, betting on the next guy being Mr Right, only for it to end in heartbreak, and every time Raph’s at your aid when you come crying to him. That isn’t said with any malice for you. He will always be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe broken pieces of these stupid shmucks if he just had five minutes alone with them.

You grasp so desperately to hope. Raph would commend you for your optimistic persistence if it didn’t break him to see you in tears. There’s only so much one heart can take. He doesn’t want you to become some calloused husk of your sweet self, too afraid to take another chance. He doesn’t want you to end up like him. Raphael knows he’s unloveable. Regardless of his appearance, he has a temper - one that he keeps as far away from you as he possibly can. His feelings for you never seem to pass despite how much he tries but he isn’t meant for love. That isn’t how this world works. You, on the other hand, should be cherished and he’ll beat the next sorry sucker who does any less than that.

How? How can someone be so foolish to drop you like these men have? He doesn’t get it. Were it him, he’d spend every waking moment appreciating you, letting it be known just how precious you are and how lucky he is to be the one to call you his. But he isn’t. The same daydream can play as many times as it likes, it’s never going to go in that direction. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.

You just deserve so much more than the cards you keep getting dealt. You’ve probably got to be the sweetest person he’s ever had the luxury of meeting. A little bubble-brained at times but that’s in part what makes you so cute. It’s also why you end up in and out of these short-lived relationships, he reckons. Much like now, for instance. It’s almost routine, weirdly systematic in a way, how you waddle into the lair glassy-eyed and red-faced wearing that grey sweater - the one he calls your breakup sweater - that’s two sizes too big for you. So much for the macho man with the green eyes. Making it to one month is a record, so there’s that at least.

Raphael doesn’t say anything, just holds a hand out whilst the other cradles the back of his neck. By now, he’s learnt that there’s nothing he can say. It’s better to wait on you until you manage to find your words. You slowly trudge towards him and smack your forehead into his chest. All he can do is stand there and stare at the top of your head whilst he battles the urge to pick you up and take you away from all this frivolous bullshit. His arm falls to his side as he watches you, and you just about say what he would expect you to.

“I really thought this one would be different,” you whimper quietly and the hiccup in your throat makes his chest burn. “He seemed so genuine.”

Raphael’s heart clenches. He wants to scream that he’s the one who’s genuine, that he’s the one who’s been here through every heartbreak, every tear. But instead, he swallows his words, feeling the weight of his own unspoken feelings pressing down on his chest.

He pats the top of your head, almost awkwardly, and sighs, “I know.”

A pained laugh muffles against his chest. “I’m the problem, aren’t I?” you ask rhetorically, playing it off as some joke at your own expense but it only angers him further.

“It’s not you,” Raph replies, a hint of a growl edging into his tone. “They’re the ones who don’t know what they’re missin’.”

“But there’s a common denominator here. It feels like it’s me.” You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Like, maybe if I was just different-”

“Stop right there,” he interjects, his brow furrowing. “You are not the problem. They are. Trust me on that.”

You always say the wrong things about yourself: the things he thinks about himself on a daily; if he was different. You are such an honest person and yet you lie so frequently when you talk about yourself. A nasty bi-product of those worthless scumbags treating you the way they do. You want to believe him on his word but you also can’t ignore the facts. It’s always the same song and dance. You stupidly cling to hope, searching for the silver lining that never seems to come, and end up in this sad mess of a person.

Raphael watches as you pull away, the warmth of his body replaced by the chill of reality. It’s painful to see you so vulnerable, so exposed. He wishes he could shake you out of this cycle, snap his fingers and make you see what’s right in front of you. But he can’t. All he can do is stand there, the silent sentinel, while you cry into the fabric of your sweater. The moment lingers, heavy and full of unsaid words. He wants to tell you that you deserve better, that you should never settle for the likes of those clowns who don’t recognize your worth. Yet, the words stick in his throat, tangled with his own fear of inadequacy.

He clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “Tell you what, let’s grab a couple sodas and a slice. Sit up top for a bit, yeah?”

You pull back slightly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know if I can eat right now, Raph.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need to get outta this gloom. Plus, I’m starving,” he responds with a half-hearted attempt at humor, but the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Finally, you yield. Begrudgingly, he might add, but food and the fresh night air is what you need right now, especially seeing as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment all day crying. He takes whatever pizza he had leftover - it’s only lasted because Mikey has luckily been out - along with a couple cans and leads you through the sewers. Whilst he’s essentially forcing you outside, he goes at your pace, never pushing you beyond that. Sure, it takes longer than it should but you get to a nice rooftop eventually, and before you know it, he’s already got you venting with a slice in your hand.

“And then he pulls out the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ shtick,” you say and Raph follows with a quiet “Of course, he does,” before you continue, “and I swear, I could’ve just slapped him.”

“You should have.”

You hum shortly against a bite of pizza and shrug. “Ah, the moment’s long gone, anyway.”

The two of you glance at each other with a small laugh before returning to the view ahead. This feels better. Much better. Once again, your knight in shell-y armour has helped you bounce back from your foreboding. If you had it your way earlier, you would have loved nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch some bad reality TV to cheer you up. Not where Raph is concerned. He’s soft-natured when you need that shoulder to cry on but knows when to crack out a bit of that tough love, too. You’re always thankful for that - him - and you hope he knows just how much of a difference he makes.

"Hey.” He nudges you with his elbow and you look up, noting the light smirk on his face, though the seriousness behind his eyes isn’t something to be ignored. “Next asshole that breaks your heart, you just point me in the right direction.”

"And be an active participant in murder? Not a chance," you laugh and playfully swat him, earning a low chortle. You think you know what he’s getting at and it’s sweet in weird kind of way. With a perma-smile now glued to your face, you rest your head on his arm and speak more gently, "Thanks, though."

He glances down at you and tempts the idea of stroking a hand over your head. His fingers clasp into a fist and he looks ahead again, taking a gentle breath before responding quietly, "Yeah... don't mention it."

[eobe]

Captain Rex 💙

The one and only 🙌 I'm getting more and more into focussing on eyes and emotions in my art and I'm not gonna do something against that 👀 I love to stare in eyes, I love the feeling of it, I want to do more and I want to share. 🎶 Follow me down 🎶 🫠

This wasn't planned like so many of my current artworks. And actions. And thoughts. I’m feeling like out of the world at the moment – maybe because of all the portals the life gives me to decide if I should dare to go through 🚪💫

Haha 😂 From television to conscience ramble in under one parsec! 🪐 But this is legit, because what is it, letting us stay and drown in tales? Our own growth, the desire to process and progress is natural, so our nature attracts what our mind and soul needs to do so. Finding pictures, comparisons and related feelings to carry on in life. That’s the magic in a nutshell, isn’t it 😌 

Marni said „DO IT DO IT“ (in exactement those capital letters, thank you so much for the dopamine 🤩) and so here’s Captain Rex 🤷‍♀️ Somehow out of my wrist into Procreate before I could even gasp and again I have to see, there are moments where I’m only a pen on a surface bifrœsting art into this world 🖊️🌈

Is the Captain embarrassed? He is. Here (<-) you can see why. Not my fault, I was just staring, enjoying the show 😁🙌 But it's more. There is also some weight in here. He's on duty, he doesn't know if he's allowed to let go even for one second. Ah, my heart 💔

So, Rex came out of the beautiful art and inspiration CHAOS (I love chaos, it’s creativity soil) started by @ghostymarni, @lonewolflupe and @jetii and I saw it, felt it and I surrendered blissfully and hands up the incoming ORM ✨ (do you know what orm is? It’s basically a link to the ultimate creativity force from Walter Moers’ Zamonia universe, especially ‚The City of Dreaming Books‘) and I didn’t had any choice I just had to do this. golden. glance. in a slightly blushing face full of contradictory emotions and drowned in my own art the second time yesterday 😱 

Enjoy a closer look into golden embarrassment Oh Captain my Captain 👀:

Before Rex invited himself I was actually already done from another unplanned uninvited clone 🙈 What is the whole brainrot doing to me and I love it

My little drawing Padawan self already owling (flying, fluting, screeching, being artist crazy inspiration orm drunken 100% getting on my husband's and my cats' nerves) 🦉 in the woods because of him (<-) ignoring my yesterday's initial drawing plans with his whole intimidating attitude!

And this was so much more intense, because I accidentally listened to this song and now I set it on continuous loop to savor and drown in the energy surrounding me in these days ✨ For me and my current cinematic mood quite fitting for both artworks.

My personal ALT text mission (1 additional ALT-Text for a previous artwork with each new art posting!): 

Another clone Captain. Absolutely not insecure 😏

Taglist: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte

[aihoshiino]

chapter 164 thoughts

This post discusses suicide and suicidal ideation in the context of Oshi no Ko.

Chapters Until The Story Ends Without The 143 Kiss Being Addressed Or Acknowledged: 2

Bizarrely, I feel like I don't have a ton to say about this chapter. Not because stuff doesn't happen in it but because… fuck, man. What do I even say. I can't quite 100% shake my suspicion that Akasaka has some asspull up his sleeve and that Aqua might come back in style form, even if altered to the point that he isn't the Aqua we know anymore, but this chapter is clearly set up for us to think he's dead and for us to see other character's reactions to this news, so I'll talk about the text with that assumption in mind. This one will probably be kind of all over the place so bear with me ig

That being said… this is all kind of dumb as fuck, huh

Like. There's just so many insane contrivances with this setup that it's impossible for me to take it seriously. Putting aside that there's no way on planet earth Aqua's plan should have fooled anybody, why in God's name are his family and friends finding out about this from a news broadcast and not, like… Being contacted by the police?? Or at least hearing about it beforehand??

I also really don't like that we're setting up to have a whole chapter focusing on Ruby's response to all this while Aqua's Literal Mother and all his friends get like. Two panels to be shocked at the news. If the series ends without giving them all the space to grieve I think I will be legitimately really pissed off lmao

The presence of 15 Year Lie in this chapter also makes me agonizingly aware that we know basically nothing about it to this day, even though the contents of the movie are what this final arc revolves around. Aqua's plan relies on Kamiki's crimes as exposed by the movie being heinous enough that Kamiki would kill Aqua to silence them but…

WHAT FUCKING CRIMES???

The Kamiki we saw in the movie was only ever portrayed as a victim in the scenes we see. Unless the story is trying to imply that Kamiki is somehow responsible for Uehara and Airi's deaths or that 15YL makes him directly responsible for Gorou's death or - literally I have no idea what this could be referring to.

I dunno, man. It's hard for me to really want to buckle down and analyse this because so much of it feels entirely contrary to the story that came before. I've always insisted that the one thing that we could guarantee was that Aqua and Ruby would survive the series and be happy because so much emotional weight is put on Ai's wish for Aqua and Ruby to grow into adults and be happy, and it really seemed like we were building up to an ending of Aqua deciding for himself that he wants to finally live for himself, so this sudden swerve into Aqua being told by God "actually your purpose in life is to nobly commit suicide for your sister" is uh, jarring to say the least.

Part of the issue with this is that I think Akasaka doesn't think of Aqua's sacrifice as being a suicide, narratively speaking, even though Akane literally acknowledges it as such. But the thing is, Aqua's "sacrifice" is emergent from all the same things as his suicidal ideation - his belief that his life is intrinsically less valuable than everyone else's and his continued guilt and self loathing as a result of his trauma. Aqua literally says to Ruby's face in 143 that he feels guilty just for being alive and it's literally never addressed again.

So it's very difficult not to read this ending as the story approving of Aqua killing himself, but only if it's for the right reasons. Not only is that an insanely irresponsible message to put into a story as widespread and visible as OnK is right now, it's also just fucking ghoulish.

Idk. Even if Aqua lived here, I just really dislike this idea of his whole life's purpose being Narratively Affirmed as being to uplift Ruby at his own expense. Aqua is very much like Ai in that he's a person who has spent basically all of both his lives in service to other people, unable to pursue the things that he wants and that make him genuinely fulfilled - an ending that parallels Ai, where he is denied this to the extent that it kills him, is not a bad idea on paper but the execution here makes it fall apart. Like, if the framing was that Aqua and Kamiki were both unable to move on from the past to the point that it kills them, I'd vibe with that or something like it. But as is, this shit is just baffling.

It doesn't help that Aqua's death is just completely unmoored from anything the series has been setting up all this time. I've seen people defending this as being what Aqua's revenge was building up to, but this very explicitly isn't about Aqua's revenge. It's about "protecting Ruby's future", but the idea that Kamiki was a threat to Ruby specifically is something that was introduced all of four chapters ago. Even then, it's deeply undercooked. Like, what it is about Kamiki that makes him SUCH a threat to Ruby that Aqua has no choice but to take the nuclear option and kill them both? Why is this the one and only way to stop him? We don't know - we basically know nothing about Kamiki besides "he's Ai's crazy ex" which is such a massive letdown for an antagonist who's been built up for this long.

Speaking of Ai…. where the fuck is she!!!

I know this is predictable background noise from the Ai Wife Guy, but it really is baffling to me that she's such a nonfactor when the climax happening right now is her son confronting the man who killed her. At best, we get mild lipservice as to her existence but the series is so all-in on this "protecting Ruby's future" framing that Ai's absence here feels jarring. It's not just that Ai should be relevant because I like her (but I DO and she SHOULD) but because it makes for a bizarrely deflated finale. Instead of the tragedy we've been building up to avenging for over 140 chapters, Aqua's death comes as the result of a plan he came up with on the spot to deal with an ill-defined threat that only came into existence 4-6 chapters ago.

It just doesn't really feel satisfying, especially when the series has been so wishy washy when it comes to focusing on Aqua and Ruby's relationship. If the series was going to make that connection The central axis on which this climax revolves, then it needed more fleshing out than it got, regardless of if the series went the AquRuby route or not.

Two chapters left………..

[destinationtrekk]

I want a long explanation of Albert's mental state after re5, you know....ummm, I mean, how much does his behavior and actions change? How will he feel about himself? Will he suffer from depression or such disorders? How will be his relationship with the reader?

I hope I didn't bother you ❤️❤️

awh, asks are never a bother!! wi will say I think @nshtn is much better at describing wesker's psyche than me, but my version of post re5!wesker (i call him uroboros!wesker) is different than theirs.

also holy shit this is 1200 words, i don't know what happened

i think immediately after re5, there's no change. physiclly, he's incredibly weak and in near-constant pain as uroboros heals him. you dote on him religiously, desperate to keep him alive as well, and this is what begins his mental shift. it does take a few months, but he slowly comes to realize how much he needs you past his surface level sexual desire and trust in you as a "lackey" basically

not that he never felt affection for you, but he certainly labelled it as something superficial - what one would feel for a pet, perhaps. now that he has nothing to do except sit around and feel sorry for himself and struggle with his feelings toward his own virus in his body, he feelings for you morph quite a bit.

but first, his self-perception. after spending his life comparing himself and those around him to Spencer, he had a serious ego problem and god-complex. he literally calls himself a god in re5, and gods don't lose the game - except he did. i think wesker sees the world as pretty black and white. you're either an asset or an enemy, worthy or a waste, and the only time in his life when this mindset fractured was in stars.

he saw many, many people as an officer who made genuine mistakes that put them in awful situations - criminals who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and victims who just wanted a way out. he finally had a glimpse of humanity's reality, that regular people had to fight to survive like he did, except they get to be happy when they survive something. he never had that. it was survive or fail, and you don't get to be happy about it when your only other option is to die. i think marcus' death absolutely had to do something to his psyche as well, definitely as a motivator to 'stay on the path paved for you, and be obedient, or bad things will happen."

so in stars he feels conflicted emotions about the reality of his childhood, but they're temporary and quickly get repressed again as his life goes on. they resurface post-re5 because he sees how you interact with others, and he really has nothing else to do except to think about it.

this obsession with analyzing his own upbringing couples rather poorly with his feelings for you, now fully fledged as romantic and devoted. of course, he refuses to say anything. he now believes that he's worthless, a failure, and his life's work has been utterly destroyed. wesker is the kind of person who needs a goal and clear objectives, and without them he feels like he'll drown in his own thoughts. which is exactly what he's doing!

you notice his odd behavior immediately, from the way he refuses compliments that used to make him cocky, and how he rarely (if ever) asks you for anything. you were basically his assistant before, and now he apologizes for even having a harsh tone with you. he can't fathom how you care so deeply for a failure like him, and why you aren't using helping to save his life against him. because that's what people do, right? they take and give and everything has to be a favor that helps you climb to the top.

well, you never actually cared about him being on the top, so you take it upon yourself to confess first. surely he's always known how you felt about him, smirking at your blushing reactions and lusty stares, but he reacts bad when you finally tell him. he thinks this is how you're making him repay for saving his life, by humiliating and debasing him for his romantic attachment to you.

this is a shock to you, because you thought he was moping out of self-pity, not a midlife, self-exploratory bout of depression. it hurts both of your feelings - he thinks you've played him by being kind for something in return, and you're heartbroken that the man you love doesn't trust you anymore.

it takes a while for him to come around. you double down on your affection and explanations, trying to dismantle his fragile mindset piece by piece. he's resistant, somehow convincing himself that he's trapped in some sick mind game that you're manipulating, because he's too thick to just give in. he doesn't know how to accept love or, frankly, get the fuck over himself. yes, he failed. yes, his life's work is kind of ruined. but he has a new lease on life, if he would just accept it.

what finally pulls him out of this spiral is a kiss. you've been pleading with him for days, trying to get him to just talk to you and work this out, because you can't keep living in this emotional hell. he's snippy and rude and exhausted, because he feels the same. he can't bear to be around you anymore, so he tells you to leave him the hell alone. you're in his new office, having switched safe houses a few times until you could finally settle, and this most recent, permanent move is why you've been so upset.

why does he think you're sticking around? he still has access to nearly all of his resources, if he really wanted you gone he could leave without telling you. he's well healed now, except for a few things he'll likely deal with forever, but he's keeping you around. he knows he can't let go of you, but he's still so resistant to everything you're offering.

he's standing hunched over his desk, hands white-knuckling the dark mahogany, broad shoulders and back facing you so he can hide him expression from you. his voice is strained, like he's barely holding himself together while you're openly crying. this is unbearable, but you comply with his wishes.

your last move is to walk closer, your hand lightly settling on his elbow while you press your forehead to his bicep, seeking any tiny sliver of comfort you can find in him. you leave a gentle kiss on his arm, as well as a wet patch of your tears, before you walk away, silent except the heartbreaking sound of your sniffling.

this shatters him. he spends the rest of the day destroying himself, but he vows it's the last time he'll wallow in misery. it takes time, but he slowly begins to open up to you, admitting to his poor mental health and struggles with finding purpose. how he can't fathom your love for him, but he can't fight his own attachment to you either. he cries when you kiss his lips for the first time, but he fails to hide his smile when you pull away.

later in life, years after the devastation that was Kijuju, he's a different man. he's still a little flighty and calculating, but he's fast to comfort and reassure you, expressing himself freely and communicating instead of lashing out or pushing you away. you both still work on...well, everything. your lives have been tragic and painful, especially his own, but he's never felt so secure as he does with you. he truly loves you, and he'll do anything he can to keep himself from ever hurting you again.

[l-in-the-light]

So the SBS for newest volume was revealed and...

SBS corner isn't considered spoilers for me, but if it is for you, please skip this post, duh!

I just wanted to point out I was part of the camp that said it was Kizaru since the beginning, so even though it's not stated black on white (it's white on black, actually), I still think this is as close to a confirmation as we will ever get, so let me brag for a second:

Feels good, haha.

Now down to the nitpicks, so *why* did I think it was Kizaru from the start? (well, I did suspect Caribou too, but it's later revealed he was with Augur and Devon instead).

At first it was just a fight, Luffy vs Kizaru. He calls it "playing around" and Luffy declares that the same "playing around" is Luffy's job. It's important to remember that, because I think Kizaru realized he could use that for his own purposes.

Just when Saturn arrives and soon after Luffy loses G5, Kizaru's attitude changes to "this is not good". This change in situation was something he didn't consider to be desirable, despite that it tipped the scales in favour of the Marines.

Then Kizaru takes his sweet time when he realizes Luffy finally has reached his limit. I'm not saying this fight didn't take a toll on Kizaru, he was panting before at the very least, but let's not forget that if he moved now he would have to finish Luffy off. Seems like his original plan was to push Luffy beyond his limit before any other players (like Saturn) arrive.

"Someone gimme food"

Kizaru realizes the situation is rapidly escalating now and in all the wrong ways. Strawhats and the present-on-scene Vegapunks are all immobilized, Luffy run out of energy, Sentomaru got captured, Saturn is holding Bonney and giving order for Marines to shoot at her. One second of hesitation is enough for Bonney to lose her life. And all Kizaru can do now is to be worried about his dear friends and witness them dying. Or perhaps... he could help tip the scales a bit again.

And in next moment Saturn realized someone gave Luffy food. No one saw Luffy move away, no one is near him either, Strawhats are still immobilized btw (including Sanji and Franky). This thing could have been done only by Caribou or Kizaru, but Kizaru would be faster and indeed impossible to spot if he moved with his speed of light.

And we can see Kizaru also moved, he's no longer lying down but sitting instead. He doesn't say anything, but he has the "..." thought bubble that looks very distressed (the tore-up border of the bubble is betraying Kizaru's emotions in this scene). Is he perhaps thinking something like "I hope no one will figure it out" or "I think no one should have noticed"? Would be pretty fitting.

Overall it was a good plan, but Luffy didn't restore his strength in time to help Bonney. It was actually Kuma's unexpected arrival that saved her (very touching moment).

And that's Kizaru's only reaction to Kuma's arrival. His body language shows relief, but his words kinda contradict that.

Only after Kuma punches Saturn, Sanji, Franky and Vegapunk are "released" from the immobility spell, which causes Sanji to immediately collapse to the ground, apparently. This is the definitive proof that they couldn't have been the ones who helped Luffy before.

Kizaru's back to "playing around", openly declaring he just wants to test Strawhats growth. Very interesting, considering the situation worsened for the Marines. By all means he should be quick and down to business instead of playing around. Seems he made his decision of how to manage the situation: again, by stalling for time and observing how it all proceeds, while just resorting to "playing around".

Here though he declares something contradictionary to his behaviour from mere moments ago. Perhaps beause he's speaking to Saturn. He emphasized the point that too many people are around and they need to be quick. But when you're quick you might have to prioritize impact over efficiency (which leaves openings for possible escape - Kizaru wouldn't be able to guarantee every target is actually eliminated).

Kizaru probably still was hoping to avoid this result, but once he realized he can't save Vegapunk no matter what, he decides it's better if he kills him himself. At least it will be quick with his powers, you know? The least he can do for his friend is to relieve him from his suffering, make sure his death is a bit more humanitarian than slowly bleeding out. Before Saturn actually stabbed Vegapunk, Kizaru was not ready to make this decision btw, always choosing to do something else (go after Strawhats, engage in the fight with Luffy, lying down beaten up).

This scene further proves my point. Kizaru assures them this is a mercy killing that won't hurt a bit. Because he believes the only alternative would be a very painful death instead. Thankfully him betting on Luffy was a good move, because it's Luffy who stops him here. So it officially looks like Kizaru did everything he could to kill Kuma and Bonney, but the enemy stopped him, so the end result can't be blamed on Kizaru. He's doing that dance between stalling the fight and avoiding the worst case scenario for most of Egghead's arc.

"I'm in a real pickle now". Yes, he is indeed. Sanji is cute btw for offering him an easy way out, lol. Kizaru will still have to write that apology letter to Akainu anyway.

And finally Luffy sent him flying far, far away, and this time Kizaru doesn't even try to get up anymore. That's it for him. He had to kill Vegapunk with his own hands and I think he didn't expect how big of a toll it will take on him. Luffy in a way provided him another easy way out of the situation, because if Kizaru just stays here and hopes for the Strawhats to take Bonney to safety, then at least he would have saved her.

So this is what I believe Kizaru was trying to do all this time. Avoid killing Vegapunk somehow (though he knew there was a really slim chance for that, but a man can still hope, right?) and at the very least make sure Bonney won't die on Egghead. Kizaru indeed has a heart, but he also has to make sure not to lose face and he can't really disobey or ditch his responsibilities as a Marine Admiral. But he definitely wasn't lying when he said he was forced to kill his best friend, and he truly wished he wouldn't have to do that.

That being said, I wonder what's his plan from this point onward. Some people suggested he might retire after this, but I think somehow that would erase the whole point of his struggle here, it would make it lose it's meaning. But he definitely showed us a little bit of his rebellious side. Though we need to remember, he ended up being just a circumenstencial ally to Strawhats, at least at this point in time.

What's the moral of this story? NEVER TRUST A "..." THOUGHT BUBBLE. It hides secrets, every. single. time. If Oda delibaretely hides character's thoughts from us, but emphasizes it by using "..." thought bubble, then ask questions, dig deeper, there's something to discover there. Also I don't mean speech bubbles, just thought bubbles. This has been a thing in many other mangas, it's not just a One Piece visual storytelling gimmick. For example, Death Note used that device in exactly same way, pfff.

[evidence-based-activism]

women have a significantly higher rate of abusing children than men do.

They do not. I have discussed this at length in this post. Relevant portion copied below (see post for sources):

---

No women do not abuse children more.

You said "Women abuse children more", but this is an oft-repeated statement from terribly misinterpreted data.

The misconception comes from data from the child maltreatment report from the HHS [5]. This report looks at reports of child abuse and neglect. In it they found that 52% of victims had a female perpetrator and 47% had a male perpetrator. At first glance, this looks like women abuse more children (hence the wide-spread misinterpretation), however this neglects to take several things into consideration.

First, since about 51% of the population is female, even if we considered nothing else, these values would suggest parity in maltreatment (abuse + neglect) rates. Of course, even this interpretation is deeply flawed, but I thought it merited pointing out.

Second, and perhaps most important, these stats are not looking at incidence or even prevalence rates. This isn't a rate at all. For example, you may be tempted to interpret these as "52% of children in a women's care are abused" or "52% of women abuse children". These are, and I must stress this, completely incorrect interpretations. These stats say only that of child maltreatment (abuse+neglect) victims identified by CPS, 52% of them were maltreated by a women.

Next, these stats fail to take into account the fact that many more women are the primary caretaker of children. According to the American Time Use Survey (ATUS), mothers spend 80% more time caring for children than fathers. This disparity widens even further when you exclude the "entertainment" categories like playing or reading to children (130% increase, or more than double) [6]. This matters because it provides some insight into how rates of abuse would be different. You need to adjust for time spent with children to get a meaningful rate. Another way to look at this is that despite mothers spending almost twice the amount of time around children as fathers, they account for the same number of perpetrators. This alone should tell you that a child is more likely to be safe in the company of a randomly selected woman than a randomly selected man.

In case you still aren't convinced however, the report also clarifies that the perpetrator sex varied widely by maltreatment type. Women were the perpetrator in 58.5% of neglect cases (vs 41%) and 70.5% of medical neglect cases (vs 29%). But men were the perpetrator in 49.5% of physical abuse cases (vs 49%), 89% of sexual abuse cases (vs 8%), and 59% of emotional abuse cases (vs 41%). While no form of child maltreatment is ever acceptable, I hope I don't need to explain how abuse (which "requires an action") is different from neglect (which "occurs from an inaction") and requires different responses.

Speaking of neglect: there is much discourse on how much of the neglect (and medical neglect) registered by CPS is "true neglect" and how much is a result of poverty. This is particularly relevant considering single mothers are much more likely to live in poverty than married couples or single fathers. Examples of this may include: a mother doesn't have enough money to buy food and pay for rent so she and her child eat very little until her next paycheck, a single mother can't miss work without being fired so she sends her sick child to school, a single mother can't pay for child care so she has to choose between leaving her child home alone or having an unfit adult (her own abusive parent? an unsuitable boyfriend?) watch her child. In all of these situations, something absolutely needs to be done to help the child, but it likely isn't the same something as a child who's being beaten or sexually abused by his father.

Other notes on neglect: even the relatively higher proportion of female perpetrators for neglect and medical neglect in this sample are well below parity when adjusted for time spent with the child. It’s also likely that men’s rates of neglect are likely severely under-reported here. Why? Because a neglect case is rarely (if ever) opened for absentee ("deadbeat") dads; it's also unclear how many men with non-primary custody are listed as perpetrators of neglect. (I ask you: if mothers are considered neglectful for failing to intervene on behalf of their child in abusive/neglectful situations, why aren't fathers?)

Other studies on child abuse perpetration (sadly no national reports) show:

Evaluations of child fatalities in Missouri over a 8-year period showed men inflicted 71% of fatal injuries on young children [8]

Evaluations of fatal and nonfatal abusive head trauma over a 12-year period at the Children's Hospital of Denver found 69% of the perpetrators were male (including 74% of the perpetrators of fatal head traumas) [9]

Data from conviction rates and victimization surveys suggest that 4-5% of adult, child sex offenders (as in child sex offenders who are adults) are female, meaning that 95-96% are male [10]

Altogether, this indicates that men are more likely to abuse a child in their care than women. Unsurprisingly, it’s safer for children to be around women than around men.

[umlewis]

lewis hamilton is interviewed during the press conference on media day [part 1/2], brazil - october 31, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "Why don't we start with the honorary citizen of Brazil? Lewis, you're back in a country you love, at a circuit you love, where you've had a lot of success in the past. Just how excited are you, ahead of this grand prix?" Lewis: "Good afternoon, everyone. I love coming here. I've been really excited about the trip and just getting back. Every opportunity I have to spend time here, you learn more about the culture, you are able to engage more. I know the Senna Foundation did an amazing event last night, with all the great work that they're doing. And it's just the colors, it's Ayrton, it's the culture, the people. So you really vibe off that through the whole weekend." Interviewer: "Lewis, you say it's Ayrton. There's a very special thng happening on Saturay evening here. You're gonna be driving his 1990 McLaren. How special is it for you to commemorate him here at Interlagos?" Lewis: "Well, I mean, every time we come here is an opportunity to do that, and I think so many of the drivers also do that. But I never in a million years thought I would get to drive Sanna's car here, so when… I remember someone contacted me… My manager told me about it, and I jumped at the opportunity. Back in the day when I was at McLaren I did get the chance to drive the MP4/4 around Silverstone, which was incredble, and… But just the thought of driving that car around here… I remember the races when he finally won here and held the flag, and yeah, it'll definitely be quite an emotional experience, and I hope people are here to see it. I had a helmet made with… Just his helmet, made for me, but I don't know if we're using that one tomorrow. But I think the initial hope was for it to be a suprrise. So I had an all-white suit and his helmet, and I'd go out and drive the lap and it would just look like it was him out there. But somehow it got out there and [laughs] it's impossible to keep things quiet." Interviewer: "Lewis, it's a manual gearbox. How's your heel-and-toe-ing these days?" Lewis: "I'm always heel-and-toe-ing, so… [laughs] No, it used to be really good when I was younger, and when I did the MP4/4 I was able to do it back then. Something I miss. I wish we had that in Formula 1. I mean, the two-pedal thing is just not exciting, and they need to bring back the HBOX. It was awesome." Interviewer: "Look, let's bring it back to Mercdes now, what's happening this weekend - a sprint weekend. It was the best combined performance for the team since the summer break, last weekend in Mexico. Just how confident are you of getting a good performance here?" Lewis: "'Confident.' I mean, it's been a very turbulent year. I think we always arrive with confidence and with a positive mental attitude, but the car is just… I don't know how… I'm sure it's similar for the other drivers, but there's glimpses of hope, and then things swing back and forth-whether it's tires, whether it's the aero-so you enver know what you're gonna get. I always feel like Forrest Gump when I say that. But then yeah, I'm hoping the car… The last race was really positive for us, in terms of the end result, but through the weekend was definitely… George's crash during the weekend, and then I started with a bad start of the race but then got better towards the end. So there's definitely potential within the car and we're always looking to just fine-tune it and hope we can extract more from it, and I'm hoping with the new surface here maybe we can have a better race."

[ssruis]

One thing I like abt the rks dynamic is that Tsukasa is able to pretty consistently catch rui off guard… Rui is A Planner and part of planning things is being able to (at the very least) make an educated guess about how people will react to things. & I feel like he’s just kinda carried that over to how he views relationships (in that he’s very observant & knows what his friends are probably going to do). Side effects of developing a habit of people watching. Also he’s just a super intelligent genius I think he tries to think of all the possible outcomes of his actions (barring emotional ones. because he is stupid).

Tsukasa is definitely not an entirely unpredictable person but he does have his moments where he

1) says stuff that Rui clearly did not expect or realize (ie the card story from his twilight festival card where Tsukasa outright says that they’re worried about his health as a friend, not as a director + in pandemonium where Tsukasa says the trip is like a one off show and later points out that Rui should take more credit for his own growth)

2) or does stuff that Rui didn’t predict (ie insisting on doing torpe the pianist because it’d be difficult in dazzling lights + joining the disciplinary committee in his year up 2*)

Which I think is largely owed to Tsukasa being the opposite of Rui in a lot of ways, despite all they have in common. Very emotion driven vs logic driven (…ostensibly. Lmao)/open vs closed off/impulsive vs careful/following your heart vs following your brain*/“ok everything’s good now so I’m fine” vs tending to dwell on what could have happened**/present focused vs future focused.

Tsukasa is able to point out things that rui never would have realized and propose options that Rui never would have considered because he’s on the opposite end of things viewpoint wise. Also neat that this is kind of a continuing theme from the main story (tsk agreeing to Rui’s stunt ideas, literally chasing him down after Rui refused to rejoin wxs and making him watch a whole show Tsukasa put on to convey his true feelings).

*specifically in curtain call. Rui’s been a lot more emotion driven wrt wxs since then, but he does put a lot of thought into his choices before making them, whereas Tsukasa kinda just goes “this feels right so that’s what I’m doing.”

**referring more to ohe with Tsukasa recovering quickly & Rui thinking about wxs nearly disbanding pretty frequently, but Rui does dwell on his past a lot. “It was in the past so I’m over it” me when I lie. there are so many instances in this game of him thinking about his childhood or it being relevant to why he’s having an issue. Meanwhile Tsukasa is like “splendid! Confronting my past loneliness helped me get into character for thorpe! Ok I’m done thinking about it now”

[whateverisbeautiful]

Always incredibly thankful for your thoughts on our favorite couple and the incredible community you build here for us fellow Richonners. In the now infamous 6.10 episode, once Rick realizes he has the all clear from Michonne the intimacy in their relationship progresses quickly from first kiss to full blown couple. Can you share why you think this progression made full sense given everything the couple had been through prior. It is particularly contrasted to his peckish exchanges with Jessie and the fact that neither Rick or Michonne were willing to explore romanticoptions with anyone else after they were separated.

Thanks so much! 💗🙏🏽 I'm really loving these Richonne questions. With this one, I think that the progression of Richonne's relationship status after 6.10 happened quickly because pretty much all the building blocks of their relationship were already in place prior. Physical intimacy really was the final piece to completing the couple they'd already been operating as. And once that came into place it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be a full-blown couple since, in so many ways, they already were.

Plus, every emotion Rick and Michonne make each other feel they make each other feel intensely. It’s been like that since day one. and so once they could finally act on their intensely passionate feelings for each other it was pretty much bound to escalate and seamlessly transition into their romantic couple status.

As you mentioned, they'd already gone through so much together and established an unparalleled level of trust. More than anyone else, they knew they could lean on each other and be truly seen. The vulnerable parts people typically think they have to hide or mask, they didn't have to hide from each other. (Being soulmates they also can't hide from each other even when they try, as was made very clear in TOWL).

That's part of why I'll always love that one of the first things that made Rick and Michonne warm up to each other was their acknowledgment that they both 'see things' amid their grief and loss. For that brief moment in Clear, they were able to know that they aren't alone and feel like maybe it's okay that I'm not always okay.

And that level of being seen occurred early in their dynamic, and then that intimate and intrinsic knowing they have of one another only grew more as the seasons progressed. So once they made their romantic desires known in 6.10, they knew they could lean in fully to this next stage of the relationship too because they already trusted each other as their safe space in this dangerous world. Rick and Michonne had been caught and figuratively held by each other several times before so they knew they'd be caught just as tightly when they finally embraced that they'd fallen in love and finally made all that holding more literal.

Rick's exchanges with Jessie and with Lori were riddled with so much uncertainty. But with Michonne, Rick seems like he's never been more certain about anyone or anything in his life. And for the first time, he was finally with a woman who was equally certain about him.

From what we know of Michonne's time at the refugee camp and her dynamic with Mike, it sounds like their exchanges were laced with a lot of doubt as well. Mike seemed to have deeply doubted that they could actually survive this new world and he checked out to the point of making Michonne miss him even when he was still alive. But in falling in love with Rick she found someone who tries like she does to never give up and a man who doesn't just appreciate Michonne's ability to keep people safe but also makes it his priority to keep her safe.

That certainty and safety mixed with all the blazing passion they have for each other meant that they could share that first kiss and more and know that they don't have to hold back at all this time in being the committed couple they were always destined to be.

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part two

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 18.5k out of 34.8k / read part one here

a/n: HI IF UR STILL HERE THEN YAY 😭 PLS DONT READ THIS WITHOUT HAVING READ THE FIRST PART. ALSO, ENJOY!

PART IV: THE SPELL

THERE WERE ONLY SO many ways to make a boy squirm. On top of that, there were only so many ways to make a demon boy squirm. Halfling status was of no consequence to certain observations of patterns involving the laws of attraction.

Case in point: Ji Changmin's dilemma.

“You look a little lost, man,” Hyunjae chortled into his friend's ear to bypass the bone-rattling volume of the house music.

Shuhua's friend Yangyang had thrown quite the rager in his shared house with his roommates. There was probably about a hundred people shoved into the first floor of the house, with some littered across the lawn outside and the backyard, too. The five of you had arrived as a unit and donated a few cases of beer to help the hosts out, but proceeded to grab your own drinks, disperse, and mingle.

Changmin coughed as he blinked furiously out of whatever daze he'd been in. His neck and ears had turned a brilliant shade of vermilion, but the dim lighting was his savior tonight. Oh, to have the shadows on one's side. “What?” he stammered.

Hyunjae's smile widened at his flustered reaction. “I'm sure Yn can introduce you to whoever her friend is.”

The roaring in Changmin's ears dulled considerably. “What?” he repeated, but this time, the word had an upward intonation at the end. Now he was confused.

He glanced back to where you were standing further into the living room. Who?

Oh.

Changmin hadn't even noticed you'd been talking to another person. His focus had been… elsewhere. Not that said focus was anywhere inappropriate in the name of Friendship—of course, the burn in his throat was the alcohol and the tightness in his chest was the soul-bond. That was all. He hadn't been considering the dress hugging your figure or the way your smile brightened your face—no, really it was the entire fucking room. He didn't want to linger on the thought of that torturous car ride over either, with his body pressed against your side and your perfume so sweet in his lungs. Was it possible to replace the very air he breathed with it?

Essentially: he was not faring well tonight. What had gotten into him? He'd attended plenty of parties with you before, and he hadn't been this strung up before.

Or maybe he had… he wasn't so sure of a lot of things at this moment. He wasn't supposed to be able to get tipsy on this human alcohol.

Only a week had passed since the soul bond was forged between you and him, too. Though he knew it was supposed to be an emotional and metaphysical link, he was certain it had nothing to do in terms of creating things that were never there in the first place.

Hyunjae grinned at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Come on! We should go introduce ourselves.”

For a moment, Changmin cringed at the thought of him appearing beside you with all the swagger he knew he lacked. He took a deep inhale and glanced back over at you… something in his mind flipped like a switch. “You know what? Sounds like a plan,” he said to Hyunjae, plastering a typical dimpled smile on his face.

The two of them maneuvered their way over to your position. As he gained proximity, the tightening in his chest gradually loosened, a rope slackening. Despite the loosening, it didn't mean the weight had gone away. The weight filled him with something comforting like his heart and lungs weren't alone in his ribcage.

He kept his eyes glued to you as he and Hyunjae neared.

You must have felt his gaze because you turned around to meet his eyes soon enough. There was a dilation in those pretty eyes and a smile that reached them.

“What have you been up to?” Changmin shouted to you over the music as he sidled up beside you. Your shoulders brushed against one another and he fought the urge to pull your form to his.

“Nothing much,” you chirped back, sharing his grin. You gestured to your talking companion. “This is Leona, by the way! She's a friend of Indigo's.”

Changmin finally pulled his eyes away from you. Leona, as you had introduced, was not someone he recognized. He didn't know many of Indigo's friends, but she smiled at him widely. “Nice to meet you!” she said.

“Nice to meet you, too. I'm Changmin,” he nodded back.

“And I'm Hyunjae,” his friend chimed in, raising a hand in greeting. “Did you come with Indigo then?”

Leona nodded her head. “I did! She went to go find Juyeon, so I'm not sure where they are now, but Yn found me wandering and we've been chatting since.” She flicked her attention back over to Changmin, and he cocked his head at the sight of something peculiar. He could have sworn there was a flash of electric blue in her eyes.

“Are you a student here?” he asked. He couldn't have imagined the blue, could he? But if she was a friend of Indigo's, then there was a good chance he hadn't.

“No, I'm from out east by Blue Brook,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm just in town for a couple of days visiting with my, uh, sisters.”

No, Changmin was certain now. Leona was a member of Indigo's coven. Blue Brook was where Indigo was from, and it was well-known amongst the supernatural community in this state as a witch's county. There were probably a dozen or so covens in that one area, but Indigo's was one of the largest. And if Leona was a witch, that meant…

Leona arched her brows at him expectantly. Demon? she mouthed.

Changmin stiffened beside you, and your head whipped over to him when you read her lips, too.

You swiftly turned to Hyunjae. “Hey! I'd love a drink, Jae. Let's go get one!”

Hyunjae's eyes widened as you snatched up his wrist and started hauling him in the direction of the kitchen. “Wha—hello? Bye, I guess?” he laughed in disbelief, sending a wink at Changmin through it.

Changmin pressed his lips together. He knew why you had taken Hyunjae away, but that didn't mean he liked it. Should it not be his wrist you were holding?

“She knows?” Leona's voice tore him out of whatever jealous stupor he was in. That cloud had returned to his head, the tightening to his chest.

He held his hand to his brow. “Yes,” he sighed. “Is there a reason you needed to make it so obvious?”

She shrugged innocently. “He didn't notice.”

“He could've.”

Leona wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, loosen up. I forget that folks outside of heavily concentrated paranormal centers are so uptight about their identities. It's your heritage, for goddess's sake.”

“You mean you forget that you're privileged enough to live in a highly concentrated paranormal area,” he nearly snarled back at her. Adrenaline rushed into his veins with an uncontrollable velocity and bite. He wouldn't have gotten so worked up about this normally, but he already accepted that tonight was likely going to be filled with the irregular. “If you said it even louder than a whisper, that could've put you, me, and her in danger.”

Especially with some lunatic running around targeting demons with energy-draining curses, he couldn't be too safe.

The witch made a face. “I guess I know why Indigo's no fun now, too. No wonder you're friends…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes found someone behind Changmin.

Changmin peered back over his shoulder and locked eyes with a familiar face in the crowd. Indigo's dark eyes widened considerably at the sight of him before she began shoving her way through partygoers to reach him. He raised his arm up like a flag to signal where he floated in the ocean of people.

The crowd quite literally spit the poor thing out and she had to grapple onto his arm. “Where'd she go?” she exhaled out, head on a swivel.

“She's right—” Not here…? The place where Leona had been right beside him was vacated, as if she hadn't been there at all. Why did she run from Indigo?

“Changmin.” There was a desperate strain behind Indigo's voice as she wrestled his collar with her hands and dragged him down to look her right in the eyes to ensure he was listening. “Leona has been releasing empitachynsia synthios in the party. I don't know exactly where, but I found one broken flask of it on the second floor with Juyo.”

Empitachynsia synthios? In the Old Language most covens grew up learning, that term translated directly to ‘acceleration of emotion.’ Based on the vague knowledge Changmin boasted on potions, empitachynsia synthios was a potent liquid that turned into vapor when exposed to oxygen, affecting those who inhaled it by escalating their emotions to alarming proportions.

Changmin's eyes went as big as Indigo's. “She fucking drugged the party with an airborne stimulant?”

“Just the second floor,” Indigo corrected with a grimace, but she released the vice grip on his shirt collar. “I managed to convince Juyeon that it was someone's dropped perfume bottle, but I left him with Lee Minho on the porch to clear his airways.”

Changmin's head swam. Lee Minho—black cat spirit—okay, then Juyeon was fine. He dragged his hands through his hair with a groan. “Hell, if I had known, I wouldn't have turned away from her like that. Sorry, Indigo.”

“No, no, it's my fault for letting her come at all,” she dismissed with an anxious flick of her wrist, then flexed her fingers to crack her knuckles. “She's been acting strangely for the past few days and I should have taken it more seriously, but I thought it was because she needed to relax a bit.”

He exhaled through his nose and braced his hands onto his waist. “Yeah, she's got a loose mouth though, that's for sure.”

“Good goddess, what'd she say?”

“Let's just say that Hyunjae could've found out who I am.”

Indigo's face ashened to a horrified shade. “Shit. I'm so sorry about her. This is turning out to be more and more of a disaster.”

You can say that again, Changmin thought, but he wasn’t about to put the blame on Indigo for something that was her coven sister’s doing. Though, he couldn’t imagine what manner of thought convinced Leona to release such a strong, and potentially dangerous, potion into a house full of young adults. It didn’t matter that some were horny or hammered—all that mattered was that there would be consequences to this, and it wouldn’t even be their faults.

Indigo recruited his help to locate the runaway witch and Changmin was swift to agree. There were only so many places in this house that Leona could have run off to, but the problem was the amount of people here.

As he and Indigo hunted, he couldn’t help but linger upon the effects of empitachynsia synthios that he was aware about—its presence in the air must have been the reason for his own unrestrained thoughts earlier, both in regards to you and Leona. He convinced himself that that was the reason, not the bond or any feelings of his, but the artificial intensification of whatever miniscule feelings that lingered. The potion could not work from nothing—that wasn’t how magic worked—but he could stomach confessing to a little bit of the feelings from earlier.

This, however, should have not been his main concern. If he had even gotten a little bit of the potion in his system, then what about you? Were you feeling alright? Were Hyunjae and Shuhua unaffected? Hyunjae hadn’t acted differently from his usual self; he hadn’t had much to drink either—that applied to you, too.

Changmin could only come to a shaky conclusion that even if all of you had inhaled a drop of empitachynsia synthios, the dose was not strong enough to have any noticeable effect on your emotions.

It was some divine fortune or providence that, not even ten minutes later, Indigo reported that one of her friends had gotten a hold of Leona in one of the rooms upstairs. With all of the panic that had plagued the two of them, Changmin and Indigo agreed to take their separate ways for the night and to be grateful for a swiftly concluded catastrophe.

The remaining adrenaline left in his system fueled him in his search for you and Hyunjae, wherever the two of you had ended up. The bond had squeezed his chest cavity all throughout the past ten minutes when he was away. His senses led him toward the kitchen, whose crowd was hardly any better than out in the living room. He couldn’t quite differentiate the pounding of blood in his ears from the heavy bass in the house speakers; he could hardly hear himself think. But his eyes found yours and Hyunjae’s forms squished together in one corner of the kitchen, and there was no need for him to think anymore.

Hyunjae noticed Changmin first and tore his attention away from his phone where both you and he had been hunched over watching clips of cats on Instagram. “Hey, done so soon?” he posed the question with a teasing lilt in his voice.

The teasing, though no fault of Hyunjae’s, made Changmin’s eye twitch. Even the suspicion that Changmin was interested in Leona left him with a sour tongue and clenched throat. “Indigo came by,” he said with little inflection to signal the end to that conversation. He inclined his chin to you, who had yet to raise your head. “Oy, Y—”

Your head lolled slightly onto Hyunjae’s conveniently-located shoulder, and the shift in angle revealed to your two friends that you had, in fact, fallen asleep.

Changmin and Hyunjae shared a fond laugh between themselves, glancing at one another in silent agreement. The former quickly pulled out his phone to snap a picture of you unawares, saving it to the group photo album of drunk mishaps.

“How much did she drink?” Changmin lowered his voice, even if the music didn’t give a shit whether you were asleep or not.

Hyunjae screwed up his face into something like unserious exasperation. “I dunno what she was thinking, man. We were talking and she drank waaay too much of the flavored soju. You know how that stuff tastes and goes down like juice.”

Changmin bobbed his hand knowingly. “I think I’m done for the night, to be honest,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I can take Yn home. Have you seen Shuhua around?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” Hyunjae slipped his phone into his pocket and carefully swapped places with Changmin. “She came by with Yuqi to get refills of some cocktail and said that a few of them were playing Speed downstairs. I’ll probably go join them. Have you seen Juyeon?”

The weight of your head settled comfortably into the crook of Changmin’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but gently ghost his fingers over your nose to brush the hair out of your eyes. “Huh? Oh yeah, he’s with Indigo and Lee Minho.”

Hyunjae stared between you and Changmin for a pregnant second, but nodded afterward. “Got it. Well, get home safe, man.”

Changmin clasped his free hand with Hyunjae’s. “Same to you.”

When it was only you and Changmin, your living and breathing pillow considered his current position. He did intend on escorting you home—you grew drowsy when you drank a little too much, and as Hyunjae asserted, it was the flavored soju’s fault; but he was loath to wake you from such a peaceful-looking nap. He twisted his head in a way to peer down at your face, your cheek squished against the muscle of his shoulder and your lip gloss leaving a shiny smudge on his shirt sleeve.

He exhaled a careful breath, then gently gave your shoulder a shake. “Rise ‘n’ shine,” he sang. The grin on his face was remarkably large and unsuppressable as you stirred with a small whine.

“There’s a new picture in the drunk folder, isn’t there?” You glowered while lifting your head up and blinking to adjust your vision. You squinted your eyes at him. “You’re not Hyunjae.”

“Is that so disappointing?” He hoped his voice didn’t betray the miniscule shard of bitterness that just pricked his chest. He reached over and helped you with an errant strand of hair; there was no need for him to sulk when he was the one with you now. (Hell, did he think like this all the time or was the potion still in his system?)

You still couldn’t open your eyes much and you yawned. “No, of course not. What time is it?”

“It’s nearly half past midnight.”

“Not bad,” you said. You yawned again, gingerly dabbing at the corners of your eyes when they began to mist. “I think I drank more than I planned to.”

Changmin chuckled, “Yeah, I figured. C’mon—I’ll take you home.”

The pair of you departed out through a side door in the kitchen, a rather convenient exit that helped you evade wading through the living room crowd to get to the front door. The alleyway on the side of the house was illuminated only by a single light above the kitchen door to accompany the trash bins.

You stumbled alongside Changmin with your wits not having returned yet.

His hand bumped against yours. “Can you walk?” he laughed, glancing over at you.

“If I said no, would you carry me?”

Perchance his pulse jumped. “Sure.”

There was nothing, to him in that moment, more lovely than the way you lit up like the fucking sun. Even the shadows in the alley washed away briefly in awe of your elation—an elation he elicited. “Really?”

His cheeks dimpled and a laugh, breathy but giddy, tumbled out of his mouth. “Yeah. Hop on.”

Thus, Changmin found himself strolling along a deserted sidewalk with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms draped loosely over his shoulders. You had your head tucked into the warmth of his neck as you focused on trying to arrange an Uber to come pick the two of you up at the nearest 7-Eleven; Changmin fought every instinct in him to be still, including his heartbeat. There would be no hiding, even if you were drunk and less observant. Something about your weight on his back eased the ache in his chest at the front.

The night had a bearable chill to it. He rather enjoyed the silence encapsulating you and him, and the shadows clinging to his heels as if they were his guardian. Every so often, he would step into the glow of an amber circle of light and watch your entwined silhouettes cascade across the sidewalk.

“How’s the Uber situation coming along, sweetheart?”

He held his breath until you answered. “Almost,” you murmured in a small voice, focused. The white light of your phone screen streamed up the underside of his jawline from where you held it and also clung to him. “Done!”

He smiled and refrained from turning his head; that would be a dangerous thing to do with your mouth quite literally against his throat. “Good job. When will they be there?”

“I scheduled it for 1:30,” you replied matter-of-factly. You turned your phone off to ease the light shining up into his face, and settled your head against his shoulder in a more comfortable position. “Minnie?”

Ba-bump. “Yeah, Yn.”

“I remember why I drank more than I intended to earlier.” At his quiet prompting, you continued, “Hyunjae was asking about you. It was… he was kind of skirting around it, but he was kind of saying that we’ve been acting weird lately. He mentioned something about you and Leona—I think he saw that she mouthed the word ‘demon’ to you. So I got a little worried and thought if I got a bit tipsy, he’d change the subject.”

Changmin’s steps faltered, but he recovered neatly. A lump seemed to have lodged itself in his throat and it was no longer because he could feel your breath against his pulse. “Is that right,” he muttered, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He had been so careful, too, and all it took was one, little word to shatter his efforts. “Thanks for getting drunk then,” he jested in an effort to lighten his own mood.

“Maybe he doesn’t actually know,” you said to him quietly. “It took you at least two tries to get me to believe you, and Hyunjae’s more of a skeptic than I am.”

But Changmin simply couldn’t be too sure. Of course, what you said held ground, but paranoia was often a pebble in his shoe. “Don’t… don’t worry too much about it, okay? I’ll figure it out as we go.”

“I’m here for you, too.” You lifted one of your hands to give his head a pat. “Well, I’ve always been here for you, but now that I know your secret, you don’t have to hold onto it alone.”

He couldn’t fathom how mere words could warm him from the inside out as if you had taken a handful of whatever sunshine you radiated and placed it in his core. When you had asked him that day why supernaturals were forced to hide their identities from humans, he didn’t linger on the idea of his words sticking with you. He supposed he had underestimated you in that way—you were his friend, and you cared about him as much as he cared about you. Of course you would take those words to heart.

And perhaps that was what eased his anxieties about Hyunjae for the time being. He and Hyunjae were as good of friends as you and him; giving him the benefit of the doubt was what felt right.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

You hummed. “I’ll protect you, Minnie. Hyunjae—well, I guess it should be Leona, huh? Leona can catch my hands.”

Changmin’s joyful laugh echoed against the nearby houses. “Oh, you’re too cute.”

He felt your sigh even more than he heard it. “You’re always laughing at me,” you sulked. “I’m trying to be sincere here. Hey, that rhymed.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He was not super sorry; the grin wouldn't leave his face. “Thank you, Yn. Really.”

By the time you and Changmin raided the 7-Eleven, caught your Uber, and returned to your apartment complex, it was swiftly approaching two in the morning. Your knees no longer wobbled like those of a newborn giraffe, so you walked beside Changmin to your apartment unit. The hallway, alight with its typical blinding fluorescents, was appropriately deserted and effectively made even the smallest of whispers ricochet like the acoustics in an arena.

Changmin had walked this path to your apartment door dozens upon dozens of times before, and though the scenery and the smell hadn’t changed a bit, the feeling that nestled itself into the very fibers of his being had. The ache in his chest, the inconsistent thrumming of his heartbeat, and his headspace had all changed.

Your keys rattled with a tinny sound as you isolated your apartment key from the others. You shoved the carved metal inside the locking mechanism, then sent him a sidelong glance. “Wanna come in for a bit?”

His mouth went dry and it was difficult to pull his lips into the shape of the words that he didn’t want to say. “You should sleep. We should both get some sleep.”

He liked to think he imagined the slow blink of your eyes and the way your eyelashes brushed over the fleeting disappointment in them. “You’re right,” you sighed good-naturedly. You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as a thought occurred to you. “I do have to be up in a few hours; I almost forgot.”

“Why’s that?” he chuckled, and the image of your feet propped up on your desk as you finished a last minute reading for one of your classes painted itself in his mind’s eye.

“Ah, uhm, Chan’s driving me up to see my parents and his sister.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you wished you could reel them back into your throat.

Changmin’s expression shuddered as the carefully constructed bubble that had formed around his reality tonight burst. The brightness of the hallway lights were suddenly stifling, and he feared what exactly lurked behind its artifice. It reminded him so starkly of your childhood friend—the cordial and warmth he put on as a show a stark contrast to a foreign murkiness that lurked below the surface of the water. There were only so many ways to make Ji Changmin squirm.

He managed a smile to reassure you. You didn’t have to censor yourself on his account, and he wished to know how you filled your days anyway. “Oh, that’s cool of him. Hope you guys have a nice trip home tomorrow,” he said, then brought his arm around your shoulders to bring you into a partial hug before he could talk himself out of it.

You reciprocated the action, but with both of your arms, slotting your bodies against one another so you were two hearts and one body for a second. “Thanks,” you murmured into his shirt. “And thanks for taking care of me. I should be the one taking care of you.”

Changmin pressed his cheek to the side of your head, his arms locking around your waist. The hidden implications behind your words weren’t lost on him, which was why he had told you that he would be good about the soul-bonding thing; about taking care of himself, so that you weren’t forced to in the name of your own privacy and safety.

He was the hazard out of the two of you, after all.

“You do,” he assured you. “You do take care of me.” By continuing to be normal with him, by continuing to treat him as you had always done, he could rest easy at night knowing that he still had a place in your life despite being who he was.

Love was felt in his chest where you belonged—you had made the bones of his ribcage your home, kept his lungs from collapsing, and rested your head against his heart at night. The bond had inadvertently made him two halves of a whole, and he could no longer bear to be without the other half.

There was too much negative space, you thought, as you laid in bed that night (morning). The ceiling was a rather interesting thing to look at with its imperfect, popcorned edges and the dark masses lying in the bottom of the lights, the dead carcasses of foolish insects who couldn’t help themselves.

In particular, there was a distinct lack of someone else. It was strange how fast another’s presence could grow on you, but how could that be when the two of you had already been friends for a couple years? When had spending time with Changmin become essential to easing an unseen ache in your chest?

When you were in the 7-Eleven earlier tonight, Changmin had filled you in on what had really happened at the house party. The idea of a witch being in your midst, releasing a perfumed potion that could escalate someone’s emotions was a frightening prospect. How many other times had you been in similar situations and none the wiser?

And if that potion had worked its way into your system or Hyunjae’s or Juyeon’s or Shuhua’s, then how did it affect Changmin?

A mental image flashed in your head. The first time one possessed another’s body would almost always feel akin to a dream. You were looking at yourself from an outside perspective at the party, your head tucked toward your chest as you slouched over Hyunjae’s shoulder. The body you were seeing through had laughed with him—subconsciously, you knew, exactly which laugh belonged to whom. But when he had pulled out his phone to snap a picture, that was the moment it came together.

When you woke up on Changmin’s shoulder at the party, you couldn’t be too sure that it was a dream; it had felt too real. Your physical body had yanked your astral form back into its vessel right before your eyes opened.

You lifted your hand up to your face in the dark and graced your fingers over the path Changmin’s had when he brushed the hair out of your sleeping face.

That same hand fell onto your sternum, the hard bone at the very center where you imagined your soul to rest deep within. You wished you could wrap your hand around the line that connected you to him, because then, maybe you could cling to it… and maybe it would make more sense as to how your mind ended up in his body tonight.

PART V: THE DIABOLICAL

TRUTHFULLY, 8AM was too early to be pondering moral dilemmas. Options as to how you would tell Changmin about your out-of-body experience flipped through your mind like a deck of flashcards. You were a hypocrite. You were a massive, clown-faced hypocrite whose thumbs hovered over her keyboard as you debated on how best to start the text message:

Option 1: Heeeey, you know how I gave you shit about possessing my body without permission? Well… we're even now.

Option 2: Guess what lol I might be going insane but I might have had a dream that wasn't a dream about possessing your body.

Or, last and certainly least, option 3: I'm pretty sure I'm interpreting your gestures wrong because I have feelings for you. Also, did I mention that I possessed you during my nap last night?

When you were drunk last night, you couldn't be so certain. (Saying this was if sleeping for less than three hours would've helped clarify your memory any better. Drunkenness and sleep deprivation were more alike as states of brain rot than one might think.) Nonetheless, you determined that you were in the wrong—not because you possessed him; that was an accident. You were in the wrong because you had contemplated murder for Changmin doing the same thing to you.

The question was: how? How were you able to take your soul and jump physical bodies? Changmin said this bond was largely for the benefit of the demon, but he also mentioned that the only reason his experience occurred was because he was exhausted.

If control was the baseline of demonic magic, and Changmin was under the influence of a powerful emotional stimulant, would that justify how you were able to pull it off?

(And if he really was under the influence, did that mean you were getting your hopes up about your feelings being reciprocated? Option 3 was looking less and less attractive.)

You chewed on your bottom lip meditatively as the driver's side door opened to your left.

Chan sighed as he dragged his seatbelt over his chest. “I can't believe I forgot to get gas last night,” he said, cranking the engine. “I could've sworn I did.”

“Maybe you just imagined it,” you teased quietly. When you peered over at him, you couldn't help the frown tugging down at the corners of your lips.

The eye bags and puffiness weren't exactly subtle on him. You could acknowledge that it was rather early for both of you to be up and at 'em, but it was essential to hit the road early since the drive was almost three hours.

Chan gave his head a rough shake in the same manner as a wet dog would. “Guess so,” he said before a yawn cut him off.

“Are you sure you're okay to drive?” You plucked one of the paper cups in the cupholders and handed it to him.

He gratefully accepted the cheap gas station coffee and took slow, measured gulps of the scalding liquid. “I think I should be fine. You should rest; you didn't get a lot of sleep last night, right?”

As he began pulling the car out of the quaint lights of the gas station proper, you adjusted your sitting position. “Chan,” you mused, “you look worse than I do right now. Were you up late last night, too?”

“Maybe a little later than usual… I was just—y’know, preparing some things for today.” He nudged his blinker on and craned his neck to check for oncoming traffic. When it was safe, he pulled out onto the road.

At this point in the morning, there weren't many cars accompanying the two of you on your journey north. The sky was a blanched blue further enfeebled by the pale autumn sunshine. You would instinctively settle in to watch the passing scenery—mountain ranges, pastures, and the like—but you continued to keep one eye on your driver this time around.

“Preparing things,” you repeated softly, turning your phone off having long given up on deciding on a text message to Changmin. “Are you—are you okay? Is everything okay?”

He liked to fuss over you, but you weren't ignorant to his own struggle. Chan was the one who faced adversity, not you—at least, in your mind. Sure, you faced your own troubles, but it hurt you to see him hurt. The two of you hadn't been as close recently, which was no fault of yours or his; people drifted apart sometimes. That was the way of life, but it didn't mean your care for the other waned even the slightest.

Chan physically loosened up his tense muscles. “Yeah, of course. I promise that I'm fine.”

Your eyes shot wide open as they tracked a trickle of something dark and viscous seeping down from his nose and into the cradle of his Cupid's bow. “Oh my god.”

Your friend's eyes flitted off the road for a second. “What?” He brought a hand up to his mouth and pulled it away. “Shit,” he muttered and gritted his teeth. The blood had dribbled into his mouth now to stain the white of his smile a gory crimson.

“I think you need to pull over,” you fretted as you tore through the center console for tissues.

Chan clutched the ball of tissues in one hand and held it up to his nose. “I'm fine, Yn—”

“Pull over. Now.” There was enough force behind your voice to make him twitch, but you suspected that the slight tremor wasn't unnoticeable either. Just how much had he been overexerting himself lately? “I'm driving.”

He didn't have a choice. Defeat clung to the tails of his exhaustion, digging the grooves of his eye bags deeper. Chan didn't argue as he pulled off to the side of the road.

You didn't have to pretend to be even a little angry—you were frustrated, yes, but only because he was clearly not in the state to drive for three hours. It was irresponsible and stupid, you wanted to say to him.

But after swapping seats and glancing over at him in the passenger seat, you opened your mouth with no voice to use. Chan couldn't meet your eyes as he kept the bloody wad of tissue to his nose. You didn't have the heart to reprimand him, and he sure as Hell didn't need that from you.

You reined in your concern and resumed the drive.

Changmin wondered if texting you was too desperate. Before one judged him too harshly, there once was a time when he didn't think about interactions like this as if they were rocket science. There was a time when he could text you with ease and without stress.

That was no longer the case.

“Please tell me you didn't spend the entire morning on your phone. That's a horrible example for the kids, you know.”

Changmin had known Aunt Jenna and her husband Kian were outside the door before they could pull out their house keys. His two cousins, who were reading and napping, respectively, on the rug scrambled to their feet with screeches of welcome to their parents. Changmin pretended their pitch didn't nearly destroy his eardrums. “No,” he protested, “we finished their homework really fast, so we were just chilling.”

“Yeah, eomma. We were just chilling!” parroted the youngest of the two—Dae—as he clung to his father's arm like a jungle gym.

Kian gave a laugh as he waddled into the kitchen with his hands full of groceries and a kid. The second child, Julia, wrapped around her limbs around his ankle; hence the waddling.

“Just chilling,” Jenna deadpanned, unimpressed. She swiped the bags from Kian and set them on the kitchen counter, peering over at her nephew. “Well, were they good?”

Changmin dimpled, nodding. “Yup. I think they deserve ice cream.”

“Oppa gave permission!” Julia hooted.

“I've got it,” Kian mused, squeezing past his wife in the narrow kitchen space. “Kids, go grab your jackets and we'll go down to the store.” He glanced between Jenna and Changmin. “We'll give you two some space.”

As soon as the front door slammed shut and the sounds of eager children disappeared down the hall, Jenna joined Changmin in the living room. Today was the day Changmin promised his aunt he would watch her kids. Rather than being out the entire day, Jenna and Kian promised to be back once they'd completed their long list of errands. Changmin didn't mind watching his cousins for the past few hours; they were, over all, decently well-behaved. (Plus, it was easy to bribe them with the promise of ice cream for good behavior.)

Jenna hiked up one leg beneath her as she claimed the opposite end of the couch from him. “How are you? Has it fully faded?”

Ah, there was no beating around the bush then. He sucked in a breath, but nodded. “I'm pretty sure, yeah. I haven't felt anything for at least a week.” It was strange to go from a period of sporadic headaches to none at all. It was like waiting for a dormant volcano to suddenly awaken; would the curse strike again and how soon?

How did he even come to be cursed? Now that was the question of the hour.

“Good, good. I don't… I can't sense it from you anymore,” she said, nibbling on her fingernail. “You had me worried there, Changmin-ah. How's your friend? Her name's Yn, right?”

A smile crawled onto his face. “You and Mom are always so bad with names.”

“I got it right, though,” she pointed out, but didn't deny his accusation.

“Yeah, she's doing alright.” He licked his lips and became contemplative. At least, he was pretty sure you were doing alright. The memories of last night came rushing back at him in a dizzying whirlwind of laughter, thrills, and warmth; the undeniable wholeness in his chest, your lips at his pulse. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “I'm trying to focus my efforts on the curse situation now though,” he said after clearing his throat. “I think that should take priority.”

Jenna gave a grave nod. “I'm inclined to agree.”

“Right. I reached out to that one guy you told me about.”

“Oh, the prince? Did he answer?”

Changmin hummed an affirmative. “You said he's a… demon prince. What circle is he from and how the Hell was he let out?”

Out of all the years Changmin knew his Aunt Jenna, it never ceased to amaze him that she was friends with a duchess of Hell. She was more of a social butterfly than his mother, but the extrovert quality didn't necessarily grant one the keys to class mobility and intermingling. Demon pride ran as dense as concrete most of the time, so it was a wonder that Jenna kept in touch with her highborn friend even after moving to the human world.

Jenna squinted one eye. “Ah,” she drawled, “pretty sure he's only second prince. His older brother's inheriting the throne to the third circle.”

Damn. A prince to the third circle, huh? Changmin chewed his bottom lip and his knee began bouncing up and down fervently. He was aware that there were plenty of the supernatural among him on campus, but he didn't go out of his way to interact with them. There had been a party here and there, but he couldn't get away with too much since his closest friends were all human.

“Well,” he continued from earlier, “he replied to my text and agreed to meet with me.” The task had been surprisingly easy. He imagined demon princes, or demon mobility in general, to be unbearably arrogant with each boasting an ego the size of the moon; however, this prince didn't treat Changmin any differently than if he were a classmate with a mutual friend. It was… nerve-racking.

“That's great! The hard part is over.”

Changmin made a face. “I really don't think that was the hard part.”

She flicked her wrist flippantly. “Nonsense. He'll be just as anxious to uncover the culprit as you are.” Jenna cocked her head to the side in thought. “And, well, who knows? Maybe he knows how to break a soul-bond.”

Changmin cradled his hopes for this interaction close to his chest as the day went on. He was supposed to meet this guy in the early afternoon at one of the music studios by campus—apparently, he practically lived there. Word through the hellfire was essentially that this prince was barely seen at his apartment, in class, or outside for that matter.

Suffice to say that Changmin hadn't a fucking clue what he was walking into.

He chained up his bicycle just outside the studio building with his phone's GPS open in one hand and the other absentmindedly rubbing at his chest. (It had been tight all day; you must really be at home, hours away from where he was.)

He glanced up at the unassuming brownstone facade towering above him. This was supposedly the place. The numbers 1117 were tacked onto the side for the building's street address, and Changmin triple checked that it coincided with the address sent to him.

When he was satisfied, he strode over to the front door and let himself in.

The interior of the building was a labyrinth of its own with white plaster walls that looked the same down every corridor. The building designer had left a small mercy, however, in the form of a large directory in the lobby with arrows directing the weary wanderer down a certain path depending on their desired studio number.

Changmin located the number and followed the signs. Before long, he stood before a sleek, black door with A8 emblazoned on its surface. He inhaled deeply, then knocked.

A long moment passed.

Changmin drummed his fingers against the seam of his pants and glanced up and down the empty hallway. Did he get the wrong room?

As if the demon prince could hear his thoughts (Changmin wouldn't be surprised if he could), the door opened. A light brunet poked his head out into the hallway, his eyes large like a doe's and paired with a rather warm smile. “Ji Changmin, I presume?”

Changmin cleared his throat, awkwardly bending himself at the waist in a hasty bow. “Yep, that's me.”

“Not here, not here,” Prince Kim Hongjoong of the Third Circle hushed with a grimace. He flicked his hand in the air, widening the opening to flag him inside. “You really don't need to bow to me, man.”

Oh. There wasn't anything Changmin could think to say except to mutter out an apology under his breath. He ducked into the dimly lit studio, and Hongjoong shut the door behind him. The studio itself was larger than Changmin expected with a small couch shoved into a corner, an expansive mixing desk with a couple monitors, a mini fridge tucked beneath, and a recording booth that spanned the entire back half of the room.

A demon's vision, even a halfling's, didn't worsen or get better with more light, but Hongjoong still turned it up. “Sit, sit,” Hongjoong insisted, gesturing to the couch in the corner. He took his own perch upon the office chair by the mixing desk.

Changmin stiffly lowered himself onto the edge of the couch and placed his bag by his feet. He placed his hands on either of his knees. “Ah, thanks for seeing me on such short notice,” he said.

Hongjoong nodded. “Sure!” That smile was both beautiful and sharp; Changmin couldn't put his finger on it, but it was the epitome of demonic royalty. Hongjoong's expression sobered slightly. “But when you said something about the curse going around lately, I did think that it would be best to talk about it as soon as possible.”

“Right, same here. Were you inflicted by it at any point?” Changmin decided that Hongjoong didn't look any worse for wear, but not everything could simply be observed upon the surface.

“I was lucky,” he replied, shrugging. “Probably because I don't go out much, but I can't be too sure. What about you?”

Changmin dipped his head once. “My aunt says I was, and I had been feeling more exhausted than usual and had random headaches. It's faded by now—but that's because I'm half-blooded.”

Hongjoong nodded his head in understanding. “Okay, glad to hear you're not doing too bad now and the curse was able to fade for you” —he paused, massaging his jawline, before turning to his laptop on the mixing table— “that clears something up for me, at least. Here—I’ve been putting together a document with my findings.”

Changmin stood from his seat and leaned over the desk to see the screen. It seemed that despite Hongjoong's lack of touching grass, the prince did get down to business. He wondered if all princes of Hell were so attentive to their species’ needs; cynicism though told Changmin that they weren't.

“Basically, with your testimony, it seems that whatever curse was performed was intended to only affect those of demonic heritage.” Hongjoong scrolled down to one portion of the document to add in this new nuance. He then worked his way down to a section where there were three images pasted side by side on the screen. Changmin recognized that they were books, but he couldn't identify their titles or purposes. “Which then narrows the curse's point of origin.”

Two images were deleted. The one left was a tome fitted with a dark colored cover. Deep purple veins seemed to scar the black and its edges were torn and crumpled like decaying flesh. There were letters engraved into the front—Changmin squinted to read them: nem focta diabolica. It was an old dialect, more similar to Latin than the more modern dialects used in Hell.

“‘For diabolical deeds?’” he murmured. His eyebrows creased. “That's the Book of the Diabolical?”

Hongjoong hummed, “Yes. You've never seen it?”

“Not until now,” he said while shaking his head. A shiver rattled down his spine and he braced his hand on the desk by the laptop. The Book of the Diabolical was one of the several forbidden cursed magic tomes that existed throughout the realms. Each tome was stuffed full of curses written to specifically target a species. The often lethal effects and methods of use were why most originals were banned and locked away. “But you said that my testimonial is what confirms that this was only targeted toward demons. Could we not have assumed that based on reports of who have been affected?” The reports had only noted a pattern of demon victims. If anybody else was affected, word would have likely been spread.

“Yes and no,” the prince replied. “We can make a judgment call based on reports, but your experience specifically is what gives us cause. If your mild symptoms are due to your half non-demoness, then we can now conclude that the curse is only supposed to work on demons.”

Changmin straightened as his mind went to work, putting together the pieces. “So now we just need to find out who is in possession of the Book of the Diabolical.”

A solemn nod. “I thought it would be easier to track down, but there's been nothing through my contacts about recent acquisitions. We know there are copies of the book that exist, too. It's just… ah, frustrating.” Hongjoong combed a hand through his dirty blond strands, a muscle twitching in his jaw at the thought.

It must have been another layer of aggravating to be a prince and have no control over the situation. Changmin truly could only imagine. “Do we know exactly which spell was used? I know it's energy-stealing, but the nature of it could lead us toward an answer.”

Hongjoong leaned back into his chair as Changmin settled his back against the edge of the table. “I do,” the prince said. “I consulted my circle's chief authority on magic and she mentioned that it was a spell that took energy in order to transfer it to another living being. The spell is also able to locate demonic entities without knowing them personally, so any demons within a certain radius of the spell would be cursed.”

At his own utterance, Hongjoong lurched into an upright position. “So we need to determine where the curse was performed!”

Changmin jolted slightly at his sudden exclamation. “How do we do that? Is it like checking for radiation poisoning?”

“Kind of. We'd just need a sample to match.”

“I'd offer my blood, but I'm not sure how potent the magic is any—”

There weren't many ways to describe what happened simply because Changmin himself couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

One moment, he could breathe perfectly fine; the next, he'd doubled over, desperately clawing at his chest as every ounce of air left his body and refused to come back. Black spotted his vision, narrowing his sight into a tunnel as his knees slammed against the ground.

His blood thundered in his ears as the pain in his chest seized his body whole. Someone had taken a knife and carved their way down the center of his chest.

Then, as quickly as it'd come, it was gone.

Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as Changmin greedily inhaled air into his lungs. Hongjoong was right in front of him, his arm hoisting his body into an upright position. He was murmuring something, but the sound was muffled… little by little, the pain and the blood in his ears dwindled to nothing but a terrifying dream.

Changmin grabbed at his chest as if he could feel the strained pull deep down where soul lived—where you lived—

His eyes shot wide open. “Yn.” The stabbing sensation that pierced his chest now was no longer physical agony but pure, unbridled fear.

He fumbled around for his phone and Hongjoong grabbed it from where it had fallen onto the floor. Worry creased the prince's brows. “Are you okay, Changmin? Who's Yn?”

“My—my soul—” Changmin dialed your number, half blinded by the sweat and tears blurring his vision.

Hongjoong seemed to understand. “Something happened to her?”

“I don't—I don't know.” All he could think about was the fact that you were with Chan and that he was afraid.

You and Chan arrived at your parents’ house just before the clock hit noon. Your childhood home was much like it was when you left and visited every break: half-dead azalea bushes and a rusted wind chime hanging over the porch; hallways and a stairway adorned with the occasional family picture and portrait from over the years; and the smell that clung to the walls, and when bottled up, would be called “home.” It had been where you and Chan spent so many of your formative years together running, playing, crying, and living.

Lunch was eaten at home, and while you stayed to help your parents out with a few errands, Chan went ahead to the nearby hospital to see his sister.

You followed behind him nearly an hour after he'd left, your stomach full and your hands buried beneath a basket of treats that your parents put together for Chaeyoung. Flowers had been considered, but then your dad reminded your mom that flowers could not be eaten, and that had marked the end of that conversation.

The room the nurse's station directed your toward was down a lengthy hall of clean white. You'd consumed media before—books, shows, movies—where a character had a distinct aversion to hospitals because it reminded them of a lost loved one or a moment of distinct pain and weakness. Whenever you passed by the open doors or closed curtains of these rooms, you couldn't help but wonder how many of these people thought the same.

At the end of the hall, you stopped before a closed door whose accompanying window was sealed off with closed blinds. You couldn't tell by squinting through the slits if Chan and Chaeyoung were inside, but there was a little whiteboard off to the side with “Lee Chaeyoung :)” written in dry erase marker.

You lifted your fist up to the door, gently knocking upon its surface. When there wasn't an answer, you took the gamble to let yourself in.

Either the hospital was generous this time, you thought to yourself, or Chaeyoung just got really lucky. The room was spacious for a single person, but there was only room for one bed. Shoving a second in here would have been cruel and unusual punishment. The television hoisted onto the opposite wall from the bed was playing an old episode of Friends at low volume, a comfortable white noise for the sleeping form tucked into bed.

You carefully tread over to the bedside where you saw Chan's backpack left on the chair. You set the basket as quietly as possible onto the nightstand, your eyes flickering over to Chaeyoung to ensure you didn't wake her.

Just as you were moving Chan's backpack off the chair, a book slipped out from the open zipper.

“Shit,” you whispered, barely catching it before it slapped against the linoleum. You'd seen a lot of books before, but this one… you peered at it with a small frown. It was incredibly worn at the edges and the cover design seemed to be something like human veins but in the color of a deep violet. There were words scrawled at the center, but you couldn't get a good look at them before you heard Chaeyoung stir from the bed next to you.

You shoved the book into Chan's bag and set the backpack down, simultaneously dropping your butt into the chair. “I woke you up, huh?” you winced.

Chaeyoung smiled sheepishly at you. Even with the nasal cannula and the formless hospital gown, she was beautiful. Though her skin was more blanched than usual, it didn't take away from the utter warmth she radiated in this sterile environment. In that way, she and her brother were so similar. “Hi, Yn-ie,” she mused. “And no, I was just pretending to be asleep.”

“Well, that's not very nice then. Were you planning to let me watch you sleep this whole time?” you teased back at her. Your lips pulled into a fond smile. “How are you feeling? Any better today, unnie?”

She lifted her hand up onto the railing of the bed and you gently clasped it with your own. Throughout the years, she had come to be almost like your own older sister figure, in a way. “I'm a little tired, but it doesn't hurt a lot, so don't worry. A little coughing here and there, but nothing a bit of water won't fix.”

You wished you could believe her.

“But enough about me. What's going on with you? Are you seeing anyone yet?”

You choked on your own breathing air, pulling a grin out of Chaeyoung. You had to let go of her hand in order to thump your own chest. “You sound like my mom,” you retorted as heat crawled up the back of your neck.

Chaeyoung made a movement akin to a shrug. “I'm bored; sue me… so are you?”

The silence in the room was enough to speak volumes. The way your mind immediately flashed to a particular demonic friend of yours made the tightness in your chest hum gladly. You rubbed the spot with the heel of your palm absentmindedly.

“Oh, well you have to tell me about them now,” Chaeyoung gushed, squeezing your hand. “You can't even deny it—your eyes just went so soft, Yn.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. How were you supposed to tell her that they were only feelings? The urge to tell her about the knot around your ribs was suddenly too great; it was like looking into Shuhua's eyes and denying everything to her. “He's,” you stammered, “we're friends.”

“That's usually how it begins,” she chimed in.

You fixed her with a look. “And he's…” How did one say “everything” without saying everything?

Chaeyoung grinned, knowingly. “I know you'll just deny it, but it's—” Her words broke off with a violent cough.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled off your chair to reach for the tissues on the nightstand. Her coughing fit raged on without a moment of mercy, not even to let her breathe air. Each one grated on you for your stupidity, for letting her waste her energy on coaxing an answer out of you.

She took the tissues gratefully, shoving them against her mouth as she hacked up globs of crimson red to stain the paper and sheets.

You began searching for water. Maybe medication. Anything that might soothe her for a second.

The door bursted open, and Chan and an older man with a white coat hurried into the room. You ducked out of the way as another nurse barreled in after them. The doctor and the nurse converged on Chaeyoung's bed and you held your hands close together by your chest as you stood next to Chan in the doorway.

“They heard her heart monitor skyrocket from the nurse's station,” Chan said quietly with his eyes on his sister's bed. His eye bags had not gotten better as the day dragged on, but you had been foolish to think for a second that this trip would make him feel any better. His hand gently warmed the place between your shoulder blades. “Come on. Let's give them the room.”

You and Chan ended up in the hallway just outside the door. Your back was pressed against the wall facing the window while Chan practically paced a hole into the floor.

Just a minute ago, he'd seemed almost resigned. But the energy around him had become frantic, frazzled. You grew wary and nervous simply by watching him, your fingers cracking knuckles and tugging at loose strands on your shirt sleeves.

He tore his hands through his hair for what felt like the fiftieth time, and you stepped forward. “Chan—Chan, please just sit down. You're going to tire yourself out like this.”

“Yn, I can't,” he said, and the tremble in his voice was unmistakable.

You grabbed his hands away from his head to force him to look at you, to stay still. “She's going to be okay.”

His eyes glittered with mourning. The jewels that welled up in his eyes poured down the slopes of his cheeks. “She's not,” he rasped, shaking his head. “They said she's getting worse and—and I—I don't know what to do anymore.”

There was a heavy pang in your chest, but you forced both you and Chan to the side of the hallway closer to some of the chairs left out. He balked, stopping in his tracks. “Yn, I don't know how to save her. I've tried everything.”

You squeezed his hands and your eyes began to sting. “I know you have,” you breathed out. “I know you have and I am so sorry.”

“I don't know, I don't know,” he sobbed. He hung his head. “It's my fault. I should've tried harder—I could've done better—”

“Chan,” you cut in, “why in the world would you blame yourself? You've done so much for her; Chaeyoung would never blame you for this, not ever.”

Chan lifted his head and you were so certain there was a glint of purple in his eyes, but there were so many tears it could've only been a trick of the light. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

His fingers curled with yours and you believed that he was finally squeezing you back—that he was finally leaning on you. “Can you promise me that you're not chained to him?”

What?

You hardly registered what he just asked you when you keeled over. A searing pain ripped through your body and twisted around your sternum. It was as if someone had wrapped their hands around that central bone and was trying to tear it out of you. Your heart and lungs seized all at once—you couldn't breathe.

Oh my god—you couldn't—breathe—

Air rushed into your lungs all at once, and you found yourself grappling onto the sides of a chair. Chan was saying something to you—they were words, but words you couldn't hear correctly. …so sorry… can't… you… like me.

Your center of gravity tilted violently on its axis and leaned toward the ground. As blood pumped violently back into your skull, you could feel the cold embrace of unconsciousness pull you closer.

A pair of hands grasped yours again, and you felt something cool pressed into your hold. A cup? Water?

“Yn? Yn, can you hear me? I'm gonna call a doctor—”

“No, no,” you waved the comment away with a weak hand. Your vision gradually cleared along with the fog in your head. You groaned quietly, bringing the paper cup to your mouth and poured it down your throat. Your chest heaved with labored breaths and you slumped into the chair you were draped in. “I'm fine now.”

Chan's face was twisted into deep worry as he leaned over you. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yn, I can't lose you, too. That looked and sounded awful. What even happened?”

You closed your eyes. “I… I'm not sure.” It was like that one time you had nausea while Changmin was possessing you. But that wasn't nausea; whatever the Hell that had been, it was closer to your heart being clawed out than a measly migraine. “Would you mind just, uhm, getting me more water, please?”

“Yeah, of course. I'll get you a proper bottle from the vending machine.”

“Thanks, Channie.” You blindly patted his hand, and heard the sound of his footsteps soften as he hurried away.

You brought your hand up to your chest and let the warmth of your palm soothe the ache that haunted you. What was all that? There was no way that could have been a heart attack. You hadn't felt it in the heart.

“Shit,” you huffed as your phone vibrated in your back pocket. With a slight grunt, you managed to maneuver your hand beneath your body to answer the call. “Hello?”

A heavy breath filled your ears. “Oh Hell… are you okay?”

Déjà vu, much? You pulled the phone away from your ear to see the caller ID. “Changmin? How did you” —the pieces clicked together in your mind and you straightened in your seat— “oh my god, you felt that?”

“Are you okay?” he repeated instead with more strength.

“Yes, yeah,” you exhaled. The pain was slowly receding to the edges of your memory and breathing gradually became nature again. “Did you feel it, too, then? Are you alright?” The though of him enduring that pain at the same time as you—your heart might as well have fallen straight into the pit of your stomach.

You definitely weren't mistaken when you heard a sniffle from that side. “I'm alright,” Changmin said softly. “I just—I needed to hear—I needed to make sure you were okay.”

A smile pulled so strongly at your mouth that the corners curled downwards. “Well I'm okay now. I promise.”

“When are you coming home? I… I need to see you.”

Your free arm wrapped around your stomach and wished it was his. Unconsciously, your eyes raised from the glossy floor to the presence coming back down the hall with a water bottle in his hand. (Was it survival instinct that had you looking at him in a light you never once considered before?) “Soon,” you promised with all the tenderness in the world. “Wait for me?”

“For however long I need to.”

PART VI: THE CURSED

Nightfall swaddled the world in its embrace when Chan pulled his car into the parking lot at your apartment complex. The headlights sliced through like twin blades across the sidewalk to blind the bushes lining the building’s perimeter. Sleep hadn’t claimed you at any point during the drive back down to the university, and you could feel the dryness begin to sting at the corners of your eyes.

You grabbed your bag from between your legs as Chan let the engine thrum beneath you. “Thanks,” you said quietly.

“Yeah,” he muttered back, dragging a hand down his face.

The drive hadn’t been much better. If someone asked you to point to the exact moment you were aware of the rift between you and Chan, you wouldn’t be able to tell them. There was a cloud of uncertainty, dark and stormy, that now blocked the radiance you were used to.

You glanced out of the window with your palm ghosting over your chest and you locked eyes with a figure loitering by the entrance to your apartment complex. The jump in your heartbeat was confirmation enough of who it was.

Fingers grazed over your shoulder—you shifted away, something you had never done before. A meekness took over your counterpart’s face. “There’s nothing I could say, is there?”

“You’ve never brought this up to me before,” you countered. At some point between Chaeyoung’s hospital room and the apartment parking lot, you figured out what Chan had asked you and who he was referring to. ‘Chained’ was an interesting word choice; you foolishly decided not to dwindle on it too long while you were within five feet of him.

It was a lot to think about. The chasm that gradually stretched between you had never existed before, and it cracked through the bridge that was your history with him. Your immediate thought was that the bridge was worth saving, but whenever you leaned over to grab the flayed ends, there was something in the dark that snapped at your fingers.

“He’s… Yn, he’s not who you think he is.”

You shoved the car door open. “I’ll make that judgment for myself. Good night.” Without another word, you stole into the night and let the door’s slam echo in the quiet.

As you made your way across the sidewalk to Changmin, there was an undeniable skip in that reliable rhythm called a heartbeat. The more you closed the distance between you, the less your chest ached and tugged. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered the sound of tires dragging over gravel and lights fading away, but if it wasn’t in your direct view, you didn’t quite care.

Changmin didn’t look hurt, at least from the outside. His dimpled smile graced his features as he took a few steps to meet you.

“Hey—” Your mouth muffled against the fabric on his shoulder as his arms scooped around you and pulled your body flush against him. An emotion bubbled up in your chest, then your throat, as you relaxed into him. The ache was gone, but he was here. You slowly brought your arms up around his middle and allowed the unspeakable to simmer.

You heard a small sound by where his face was tucked into your neck, and when the realization hit you, you could only laugh. “Are you sniffing me?” you snickered.

“You smell nice,” he sulked.

You patted his back. “So not only are we leashed, but you have also adopted the characteristics of a dog—”

“I’m letting go now.”

“Noo, don’t let go. I’m sorry,” you said and locked your arms around him. You both knew he could break out of your hold at any point, but in your arms, he remained. “Are you okay? You wanted to see me right when I got back.”

A breath was released against your skin, and it was so similar to the brushes of wind that he demonstrated early on as a physical manifestation of his power. “I needed to see you,” he corrected. “I needed to see that you were okay.”

The top-left quadrant of your ribcage fluttered. “I… yeah that was scary, wasn’t it?” you whispered. The phantom pain ignited within your breast for a moment, and you screwed your eyes shut. How could a single touch cause such physical agony? You were careening toward the truth you had been avoiding for hours now. You were peering into a dark chasm with no end to the bottom, but the longer you delayed, the longer it would continue to instill that fear and anxiety within you.

You cupped the back of his head with your palm, brushing your thumb through the strands of hair. “We need to talk.”

He hummed. “We do.” Changmin straightened and while one of his arms lingered about the curve of your waist, the other lifted toward your face. Before he could touch you, he stopped himself and pulled the hand back down to his pocket. “Are you tired? We could talk about this tomorrow?”

The thought of tomorrow morning’s lecture, but leaving the seat beside Shuhua empty, made your stomach sink. Your nod was reluctant. “I guess so… thank you for coming though. It was sweet—good. It was really good to see you. I—”

That hand from just a moment ago reappeared to cup the underside of your jaw and drew you over to kiss you.

(Under oath, Changmin would have admitted that there was a part of him that had been craving to kiss you since that day in his apartment when he confessed that murder from your lips was damningly divine; but if you were to ask him now, he would have said he simply didn’t want to say good night yet.)

You weren’t out of your wits enough to be completely slow as to what was happening. His touch was hesitant and bereft of the full strength he wished to impart. The brush of his lips against yours was fleeting and he was pulling away all too soon.

Cheater. You grabbed a handful of his hoodie in your fist and yanked him back over to you. You’re not getting away with that.

He stumbled in surprise, slapping his palm against the wall over your head. That arm was looping back around you in an instant, and your chests pressed together as if connected by opposite poles of a magnet. He was better this time around—sloppier, more fervent. His fingers dug into the meat of your waist, his mouth bruising against yours.

You wondered if a few minutes spent devouring the air between each other was enough to carve the other’s name into your mouths permanently.

His mouth glistened in the low light when you pulled away to relieve your lungs. Changmin’s eyes were hooded, pupils dilated to the black of deep space: consuming, but wondrous. “Another thing to talk about tomorrow then?” he exhaled out against your skin.

You nodded—that was a given—and you watched his eyelashes flutter as he leaned in again. Something deeply satisfied purred in the recesses of your center, somewhere only one’s soul might dwell. (Love was felt in your chest where he belonged, after all.) You breathed him in as he kissed you once more. It wouldn’t matter if the invisible string that tethered you to him eventually faded because your souls were far too comfortable with each other to ever let go.

The sun hung midway between the sky's precipice and the horizon, washing the world beneath it in a whimsical filter of gold. While Mondays were usually a lighter load for you, today happened to be the one you stacked all of your academic appointments onto. It wasn't until about three in the afternoon that you were able to see Changmin again.

You stepped out of your department advisor's building with your hand raised to shield your eyes. Waiting for you at the curbside and straddling his bicycle was the other half of your soul bond.

“You like guys with bikes?” Changmin grinned, half laughing as he nodded to you.

You threw your head back and couldn't fight the smile off your face. “You pick up all your girls like this?”

“That would be a yes, 'cause I only have one girl and I don't have a car.”

Your laugh bounced off the nearby walls and made Changmin's cheeks hurt from how wide he smiled. You made your way over to him, and he curled his hand around your waist, thumb rubbing into your hip bone. “Hi,” he mused.

“Hi.” Nothing had been said between the two of you since last night besides wishes of good sleep and to perhaps see one another in your dreams. (If dreams were considered a weakness to demons, it was safe to say that Changmin didn't give a damn.) You licked your lips. “So where do you wanna talk? Because we do have to talk about some things.”

“I know. Juyeon said he won't be home, so I thought we could go back and talk, and maybe… watch a movie, if that's cool.”

You snorted. “You kiss a guy once and he suddenly gets game.”

His eyebrows went sky high as he handed you his helmet to strap on. “Actually,” he scoffed, “we kissed at least f—”

“Ah!” You pressed your pointer finger to his lips, fixing him with a pointed look and ignoring the warmth in your cheeks. “That's semantics. Is this even safe, by the way?” you asked, gesturing to the back of his bike where he had a small rack installed over the back wheel.

“Yeah, you just need to hold on tight.”

You threw one leg over the middle and braced your feet over the two bars jutting out from either side of the back wheel. Your arms came around his nearly nonexistent waist, the side of your head resting against his backpack. “You just want me to hug you.”

Changmin laughed from the front. “You said it, not me!”

Who said sharing a bike was romantic? Certainly not you, but there was plenty of fluttering in your stomach that made you think otherwise. You didn't keep your face against him for long, and lifted it up to feel the wind across your cheeks and through your hair.

It was strange to think of him as a demon when you had known him longest as a good friend. There was nothing remotely unhuman about him, but what made someone a human? Was it physical traits or lack of magic ability? Was it the realm we hailed from or was it simply… prejudice and stereotype?

Whenever you thought back to that fateful night, you couldn't believe you'd harbored even an ounce of fear for him. A part of you thought he'd pulled all those stops to make you scared, but the other part knew that maybe they were necessary out of his own alarm.

When you arrived at his apartment complex, he locked up his bike in the room in the lobby. The two of you worked your way up to his floor, a light conversation bubbling between you about what movie you should watch after you filled each other in. Speaking about anything regarding the supernatural out in the open like this was not ideal.

“—it’s really not even that scary,” Changmin insisted as he fished around his bag for his keys.

You crossed your arms over your chest, unconvinced. “I know you've got a thing for Chucky, but—”

His mouth fell agape as he managed to grab his keys and shimmy open the lock on the door. “I do not have a thing for Chucky. That's just disgusting and perverted. I thought you were better than—oh. Shit.”

You were about to ask him what was wrong when you followed him in through the door. Seated on the couch was Juyeon, Shuhua, and Hyunjae, two of whom had their arms crossed and their faces fitted with matching masks of suspicion.

“Hi guys,” you greeted awkwardly and nudged the door closed. What were they talking about without you and Changmin?

“We’ve been expecting you—ow! We agreed that I was going to greet them,” Hyunjae hissed to Shuhua who had dealt a brutal blow to his ribs with her elbow. “Also, your elbow is so fucking bony—”

Shuhua harrumphed, sitting up straight with her chin inclined. “We’ve been expecting you. Juyeon purposely lied to Changmin so we could confront the two of you.”

You and Changmin exchanged nervous glances. Your counterpart then swiftly turned toward his roommate with an expression of betrayal. “You lied to me?”

Juyeon went doe-eyed. “I’m sorry, Changminnie—they made me!”

Hyunjae’s cough was annoyingly loud, and he thumped his fist against his palm like a gavel. What was this—court? “Ahem. We all agreed that we needed to catch you guys in the act and to hold an intervention. I tried” —he dragged out the word ‘tried’ as if he’d nearly died in the Sahara Desert while doing it— “to confront Yn about it at the house party, but then you went and got yourself drunk.”

Oh. You performed a mental rewind all the way back to last Saturday. Oh no.

You and Changmin gravitated toward one another’s side. “What exactly,” Changmin drawled with narrowed eyes, “are you holding an intervention about?”

“Guys, please. We’re not fucking stupid,” Shuhua huffed. “We know you’ve been sneaking around together. And whether you’re actually dating or just hooking up—”

You choked on your own spit.

“—we need to know if you’re committing friendcest.”

You had to hold back both a laugh and a tremendous sigh. This was about fuckass friendcest, not Changmin’s demonhood. You opened your mouth to relieve your friends of their concern when Changmin beat you to the punchline.

“We’re not sneaking around for that reason,” he said, his eyes flickering over to you. You felt the back of his hand graze yours, and you blinked at him. While it was true that the original reason you started sneaking around was not because of mutual attraction, there was a tablespoon of truth to that now. If last night hadn’t happened before this conversation, it would have been a lot harder for you to answer their questions, and if you had talked about the kiss before…

There was conflict across Changmin’s face as he warred with himself on how to properly put yours and his hunt into words that they would understand. There was undoubtedly a build-up of years’ worth of guilt mounting in him to put pressure on his reveal of the truth, but it was clear that he was still not ready for that conversation yet.

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “He’s lying. We have been dating,” you declared. It was an innocent white lie that was somewhat truthful. “We” —you cleared your throat as every pair of eyes darted over to you, including Changmin’s— “wanted to try it out. We only really have gone out a couple times though, and it hasn’t been long since it started. We’re sorry we hid it from you guys.”

Changmin’s eyes gleamed with gratitude as his fingers braided with yours and he cupped around your bound hands with his free one.

A beat of silence passed as the other half of your friend group exchanged glances with one another. Had they expected you to deny it?

At last, Shuhua broke out into an almost pouty smile. “I wish you guys didn’t hide it from us, but if you’re happy…”

“We hid it because we weren’t sure yet and didn’t want it to affect the group’s dynamics,” Changmin chimed in. He squeezed your hand at his side. “I mean, I’m happy.” He glanced over at you, cheeks dimpled. “You?”

You smiled back, nodding. “Very.”

Juyeon sniffled and clasped a palm over his mouth. “Ugh, this is so romantic. You guys look so happy together. I need to tell Eric and Indigo about this.”

“Man,” Hyunjae feigned exasperation, but even he couldn’t hide the large grin on his face, “I really thought this was gonna be more dramatic. Glad you guys really were just sneaking around and dating and stuff, and not like, hiding a body or anything.”

You and Changmin looked at each other again and produced similar sounds bordering on a suspicious level of nervousness. “Yeah… definitely nothing like that.”

The other three were, unfortunately, sharper than you liked to give them credit for. “Wait, what do you mean—”

“Bye now!” Changmin whisked you out of the apartment unit with a slam of the front door. Yours and his giggles wrapped around one another as you left, leaving your dumbfounded friends high and dry.

When you and Changmin had escaped to the end of the hallway by the stairs, you finally released the breath you had been holding. Keeping Changmin's secret was one thing, but lying to your friends was another. What you claimed back there wasn't a total lie, but in this case, perhaps ignorance was bliss. You didn't doubt your friends would be supportive of Changmin's heritage, but if it was something he wanted to continue to keep undisclosed, then that was his prerogative and it was not your truth to reveal.

Yours and Changmin's hands remained intertwined as you made your way back down to the lobby. Since his apartment was clearly occupied, you would need to find somewhere else to speak privately. The answer came in the form of a park nearby, who's trails and pathways were rather vacant at this time of day.

Changmin locked his bike and helmet up at the park's entrance before his hand found yours again. “We are dating now, right?”

You snorted. “That's the first thing on the agenda?”

“Well, yes,” he beamed boyishly at you, swinging your hands between your bodies. “Are you saying that what you told them back there was really a lie?”

“I mean, no,” you stammered. Heat prickled beneath the surface of your skin and you fought to avoid his direct gaze, so knowing. “We are dating, if you're okay with it.”

“Sure.”

“Sure?” you squawked. Such indignation in that pretty boy smile of his. Your expression flattened into a deadpan. “I suppose I do have something to confess before we put a label on it.”

Changmin smiled to himself. “This is the moment you tell me you're a serial killer, isn't it?”

“You're really sick in the head,” you joked back. “But no, I mean that… well—hear me out: that night at the party when I was asleep? I may or may not have possessed your body.”

Changmin halted so abruptly that you were almost yanked back into his body from your linked hands. “What?”

You squeaked out a nervous laugh. “It's not, y'know, that big of a deal. It was only for a few seconds, and it really could have just been déjà vu or something.”

“No. No, it makes sense.” He shook his head, then pressed the black of his knuckles to his pursed lips, eyebrows creased together in a pensive stare. “My mind wasn't the most stable, so I wouldn't have been able to stop you from coming across the soul bond. It's just an interesting notion to consider; I've never heard of a case like this before.”

“Ah.” You were glad he wasn't bringing up the utter irony of the situation. “Maybe you can ask Aunt Jenna, and I bet most demons don't regularly come across that potion very often.”

Changmin cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “That's true. There is something that I've been meaning to tell you though. I don't know if you remember the random headaches I used to get” —you hummed your acknowledgement— “but it was apparently because I, and other demons in this area, were inflicted by a curse.”

Your face shuddered. A curse? How long had he been holding onto this?

His mouth set into a line. “I didn't want to worry you, but my being half human pretty much saved my life. It was… something from the Book of the Diabolical—a curse that stole energy from one being to transfer to another.”

The Book of the Diabolical rang a distant bell in your head. “That's really scary,” you murmured.

“I—I know,” he said, taking you by your arms, “but I'm working with another demon on campus to solve it. It shouldn't affect you at all because they've only been targeting demons, but—”

“That's incredibly worrying for you to say—”

He exhaled, “I know, I know. I can take care of myself though, especially now that I have this other demon to help.” Changmin's grip on your body tightened, but not to an uncomfortable degree. His possession of your gaze was even more secure; there was an urgency within him that compelled you. “I'm telling you this now because… because I can't stomach the thought of you getting hurt, and I need you to promise me to be careful.”

You brought your hand up to cover the back of one of his. “But you said this curse only affects demons,” you whispered.

“Yes, but” —he cut himself off, tearing his eyes away for a moment. He bit his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. “I just have a very, very bad feeling about something.”

“Then tell me what it is,” you pushed. There was no way you could safeguard yourself if you didn't know what he was worried about.

Changmin considered you for a moment, then in a low voice, said, “It's about Lee Chan. I know you're friends with him, but I just can't put my finger on how he's connected to all of this.” Your eyes fell away from his, and his heart stuttered in his chest. His palm was gentle as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “Please. Please just be careful, sweetheart.” Please believe me.

At last, you nodded and slowly raised your head up to meet his eyes once more. “Okay,” you said, “I promise.”

There was a beat of hesitation in his heartbeat again—he couldn't bear to be without his other half.

Your conversation with Changmin was severed short when he received a call from his demonic friend—a Kim Hongjoong—about an update regarding the curse's residual essence. He biked you to your apartment complex first, walking you to your door. He left soon after, but not before bestowing a lingering kiss to your brow, the words between the stressed lines of his eyes imploring.

You promised to call him tonight, and you shouldered your way into your apartment. Your heart had not ceased to stop rattling in its confines since Changmin admitted his wariness about Chan. You didn't know why you didn't immediately agree with him then and tell him about your thoughts from the hospital day, but your thoughts whipped around in your mind, trapped in a violent rip current.

The reason you had looked away from him earlier was not because you doubted him, but because you feared those whispers of suspicion were quickly becoming your reality. It was a grave accusation to name Chan specifically, and to even suspect him having a hand in recent diabolical deeds, but you couldn't deny that your view of him was morphing into something else.

It wasn't right, you thought. Lee Chan was the sun—bright and warm. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Right?

You fumbled for the lights in your darkened apartment. It was strange that your roommates weren't home; usually they would have been. You suppressed a yawn as you failed to find the light switch for some reason. Had you been this tired all day? Your eyelids were growing heavier and heavier by the second…

“Shit,” you muttered as your foot hit something solid on the floor. Your fingers caught the switch and light flooded into the room.

A gasp tore out of your throat. By your foot laid the body of one of your roommates, her limbs splayed sporadically, but her chest still rising and falling with breath. (Asleep?) You lifted your head, and a dooming chill fell over you as you realized that the body on the couch was your second roommate; and there—the third's hand poked out from behind the kitchen counter.

There was another aspect to survival instinct. It launched into effect as soon as you spotted a figure emerge from your periphery.

You whipped around and reached for the door handle, but to no avail. A strong arm caged around your middle and slapped over your mouth. Whatever was on his hands—dry, chalky—dragged a cough from your throat. Though your heart pounded in merciless rhythm, it seemed only to work to your detriment.

“Can't let you do that,” said the voice behind you, gruffly. It was familiar.

The world grew darker… dimmer… your body's thrashing slowed. You screamed and attempted to flail around, desperate to get free. Why the Hell was your body getting weaker? Why—why were you tired—

Just before you surrendered to unconsciousness, the epiphany slammed into you like a truck. The worst part was it was way too fucking late.

If desperate people found faith, then Lee Chan was admittedly the most desperate of them all. Most people—humans, it should be clarified—found faith with the established religions of the world. There were truly far too many to count, but desperate and depressed ten year old boys were more resourceful than others gave them credit for.

The problem was that Chan was a creature made whole by the love imparted onto him by you and his older sister, as well as the neglect and hatred sown by his parents. It made for a dynamic persona—a soul torn asunder by the people he yearned for most. He wished his parents could have cared more, then perhaps he wouldn't have cared so much.

(Though, if they had cared even an inch more than they had, he wouldn't have traded their lives for Chaeyoung's in the first place… maybe he would have still done it, but he might have regretted it, at least.)

Wasn't there a definable point when a hero became a villain? No, he didn't like thinking of himself in those terms. “Protagonist” and “antagonist” were far too restricting. It was similar to the stigma surrounding the forbidden tome of curses in his possession; why was it forbidden if it was so very useful?

The only thing was that it lacked the spell he seemed to need most right now: a spell to convince you of the pure evil you had bound your soul to. Whether it was inadvertent or purposeful, Chan would do you a favor: by severing the demonic soul bond, he could save you—his beloved little sister. He could save you and protect you from an ill-begotten fate.

But even as he settled your unconscious body over the summoning circle sketched in confident, chalk strokes, he racked his brain for any possible reason why you were bound. To what end was your bargain with Changmin? Were you so desperate as to strike a doomed deal with a half-demon? He considered your face with a frown; even in sleep, your browser were furrowed with stress. He needed to get a move on.

The Book of the Diabolical laid open atop your desk where he had pushed it into the corner. The entirety of your room was rearranged in order to give him a wide berth to work—bed shoved to the far reaches, drawers and file boxes relegated to the closet. The middle of the room featured your body over his summoning circle, rounded out with burned phlox candles who's scent suffocated the room in its bitterness.

Chan hunched over the book and consulted the line of curse he had tabbed with a sea otter sticky note. Over the past several years of his life, he dedicated himself to learning how to decode the old dialect of this tome in order to use it to its full reaches. “Asmantha's star for summoning, check. Burned phlox, mhm. Conscious blood of the victim…” his voice trailed off as he caught miniscule movement from the corner of his eye. “You're awake already? What a weak spell.”

Your body stilled. “Chan…?”

“Just another minute,” he promised and reached into his backpack down by his feet. He withdrew a slim paring knife he had brought with him from his apartment. “This'll all be over soon.”

His eyes scanned over the lines of directions. Without looking back at you, he said, “I also wouldn't do that if I were you.”

You froze with your fingertips centimeters away from the edge of the summoning circle. If your nail had so much as crossed the line, your body would have been rendered paralyzed. It wasn't a pleasant feeling—Chan knew from experience—but it was a necessary evil.

“What are you doing to me? What is all this?” you queried, your voice as small as a mouse's.

He could feel your eyes go to the paring knife in his grip, and the thought occurred to him that it was troubling you. Chan turned around then with a reassuring smile, only to be met by your eyes, so round with fear. Oh. “Yn, this is for your own good,” he crooned sweetly with all the boyishness that you were used to. “I'm just doing you a favor. I know demon bonds are really hard to get rid of. They're nasty things, but I have a way to do it with minimal damage.”

You eyed him warily from your side of the line. “You mean a soul bond?”

Chan barked out a laugh. “Is that what he called it? Fucking disgusting,” he spat. Every molecule in his body boiled with anger—for you, of course. How dare Changmin fool you into some romantic vision of such a treacherous, vile thing? “I don't expect you to understand right now, especially if he's gotten into your head, but I'm going to help you.”

“Help me? I don't need any help—”

“You’ll thank me later,” he interjected with a click of his tongue. He nodded his head toward you. “Now hold out your hand. I just need a little bit of blood, and we'll be done.”

You scrambled backward on your hands. “What? No.”

Annoyance twitched in his jaw, but his chest twisted with something heavier. You were so far gone… if he didn't act now, it would be too late. “I'll come in there myself if I have to,” he replied and rose to his feet.

Wild, unbridled fear flashed across your face as your head swiveled around. You were trapped between a knife and the circle bounds, prey meeting predator.

Chan stepped into the summoning circle, brimming with determination. The spell's incantation swam fresh in the forefront of his mind, locked and loaded upon his tongue for the proper moment. His thumb ran over the flat side of the blade and he stalked over the chalk markings. “I only need a little,” he reassured you.

“Don't do this,” you sputtered, “please! You don't have to break the bond.”

Your words only spurred him on. Chan lunged for your ankle, and you rolled out of the way, the crown of your head narrowly missing the edge of the circle. It was to your slight advantage that he had drawn the thing so fucking large, but it only gave the lion more room to play with his food.

Rich purple fractured across his irises and you could no longer dismiss it as just a trick of the light. Stupid. You had been so fucking stupid.

He pounced again. The breath flew out of your lungs as you hit the ground, your hand grasping his knife wrist where it was poised above your cheek. Your entire body shook as you held him back. “Stop,” you cried. “Why are you doing this? Chan, we're friends.”

“That's exactly why,” he grunted and used his body weight and gravity to inch the blade down further.

Pure adrenaline was all that kept your limbs from failing. Sweat collected between the grooves of your palms and fingers, your heart racing at two hundred beats a second. Every ounce of energy went toward survival. “I don't” —you heaved at his wrist to get it to move away— “understand.”

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. Tears had welled up in the linings, trickling down onto your face. Agony contorted his own, flushed, as he exerted every exhausted bone in his body. He'd used so much of his energy lately. “I can't have you end up like me,” he said through gritted teeth. “And if I can't save noona, I can still save you.”

He slammed the knife down.

Your head jerked out of the way, just as the tip of the blade crunched into the wood floor.

Before you could tumble out of the way, he snatched the front of your throat with his free hand and pinned you in place. Your hands whipped up to your neck, desperately clawing at his fingers and knuckles, your airways narrowing. Blood from his hand trickled down from your angry marks, a river of red flowing to stain your own skin.

“Please,” you choked out.

He didn't listen. You felt the bite of steel; blood, hot and thick, bubbled out of the cut and dripped down the side of your face onto the floor like a tear.

Chan kept his hand around your throat. His eyes, drowning in his own sorrow, never left your face. You once knew his eyes, but the purple that corrupted them struck you with fear. “Utimana catenia ab eterno effodiant sycut sol ad auroramae. Abi, daemon. Abi, daemon!”

You never thought you'd ever feel that same searing pain from the hospital ever again, but this was much worse. A guttural scream tore out of your throat with more wind than volume. Someone had dug their way into your body and was ripping their way out. They buried their fingernails and were shredding your muscle, cracking your bones apart, and they wouldn't stop until they saw the cold light of day.

The physical sensation—it was no clean slice. When a rope was pulled under strain, every fiber unwound until it snapped. You couldn't breathe. Every fiber of your being, physical and metaphysical, clung onto the soul on the other end of the line.

The rope splintered. Only then did you lay still.

Air once again flooded into your lungs, but your chest ached and ached and ached. Your throat burned from your crying. Your head hit the ground beneath you and you pawed at your sternum. The negative space was so damn loud. He wasn't there—he wasn't there—

“Yn?” A shaky voice, small and childlike. Chan's face appeared above in your line of sight with worry written stark over his face. “He's gone now.”

He's gone now. A cough boiled up in your throat, and you turned your head to hack up the residual blood. It was as if something truly had broken in your body. An entire piece of you was missing.

When you remained silent, Chan dragged himself up to his feet. “You’ll be grateful one day, you know? I'll clean this up and leave you be—”

You didn't have the heart or strength to lift your head, but you heard what happened next.

Chan's breath caught, followed by sounds of growling protest. There was a foreign voice or two over by the doorway. Take him to the Third Circle. We'll deal with him later.

The heart in your chest, its beats weak, stuttered into a pitiful skip as if it could sense the other half of it approaching. A face appeared in your view, his eyes wet and blood seeping from his nose. “Yn?” he rasped, wiping the blood with the back of his hand.

His blond hair hung in his eyes as you peered up at him. Your body relaxed in the presence of the one it yearned for most.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, as he dipped his head to touch his forehead to yours. I'm so sorry I'm late, so sorry I let him hurt you. You could feel his body shake with silent cries. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“He said you were gone,” you managed to croak with your hoarse voice. Your nose and eyes stung with oncoming tears, and as soon as the dam broke, you could not reverse it.

“I'm right here,” he assured you. His arms wrapped around your body and pulled you up toward his chest.

“It hurts.” You pressed a hand to your chest where the gaping chasm now sat. You didn't know how deep your soul laid within, bruised and battered. “Are you okay?”

Changmin loosened a wet chuckle from his mouth, holding the side of your face tenderly. “I should be asking you that. I was so scared—Hell—” Loss was a unique feeling. It was strange because you were right here in his arms, but no amount of proximity soothed the visceral throbbing in his chest. He once was whole, one part loved and the other part loving. But what was done, was done: the goal you and Changmin originally had in mind was accomplished, but neither of you were sure that you wanted it anymore.

The two figures you didn't recognize approached the summoning circle. One was a boy who looked human enough, but with eyes that seemed too sharp. The other beside him was a woman with gray hair, styled to coiffed perfection as a bed for the pair of curled black horns jutting out from the crown of her head.

You struggled into an upright position and leaned back against Changmin. “And” —you cleared the congestion in your throat— “you are?”

“Kim Hongjoong,” said the former with a sad tilt to his smile. He gestured to the woman. “My colleague, Amari.”

“Prince of Hell and Magika Supreme,” Changmin muttered into your ear.

Your eyes went wide. “Should I bow?”

Hongjoong waved his hands in front of him. “No need. Are you feeling alright though? Soul bonds are… they aren't the easiest things to live without once you've had one.”

“You know what it feels like?”

“Definitely not,” he said sheepishly. “But I can guess. Changmin collapsed when he felt his end was devastated. I, uhm, imagine that your experience was similar.” The prince lowered himself into a crouch to be eye level with the two of you. “Your friend—the one who did this to you.”

Your throat squeezed tight with the phantom of his hand around it. “Chan?” you stammered. “What's happened to him?”

“We've taken him into custody,” the Magika Supreme replied with a low voice and perfect posture. “Did you know that he had a copy of the Book of the Diabolical?”

There was that title again. You shook your head, but pointed in the direction of your desk. “That thing? I didn't know what it was until now. He—he had it when I was at the hospital with him yesterday.”

“Do you know how long he's had it in his possession?”

You were about to answer, when Changmin cut in. “With all due respect,” he swallowed, “Yn deserves her rest, not an interrogation.”

Hongjoong exchanged glances with Amari, then nodded and rose to his feet. “Fair enough. We'll help you clean up and be on our way—”

“Wait.” You didn't expect them to listen to you. “I need to know what happened. I don't—I still don't understand.” When had everything gone wrong for your friend? In your mind's eye, you could picture the canyon that spanned yours and Chan's relationship, the tattered bridge hanging listlessly over the gorge. You could not banish his words from your head: I can't let you end up like me. And if I can't save noona, I can still save you.

Hongjoong pressed his lips together. “Your friend has been using that book of curses for a very long time to steal energy and transfer it to his sister. Recently, your Changmin and many others fell victim to one of them.”

Your hand fell over where Changmin's rested across your middle. Could he feel the guilt sloshing in the pit of your stomach like turbulent waves?

“We believe he targeted demons specifically because of a deal he made with a demon in his past.” A shadow fell over the prince's face, and you read the grave sadness embedded there. “He must have held a grudge against our kind since that rotten deal.”

It made sense. As much as it caused bile to creep up your throat, the pieces were slipping into place. The pure, venomous loathing he directed toward Changmin and the soul bond—if he had experienced a demonic bargain before, he would not only be aware of the existence of the supernatural, but the nature of such soul-binding deals.

Chan had done it for Chaeyoung—that conclusion wrung you through the deepest pits of Hell and destroyed you. He'd done it to save her life, but it hadn't been enough.

“What's going to happen to her?” The bloody tissues and crude scratches of her coughing crushed into your mind. “She didn't ask for any of this.” They said she's getting worse.

The Magika Supreme was the one who answered. “The energy Lee Chan stole and imbued her with was corrupted, which is unfortunately why Miss Lee's condition is worsening.”

An idea manifested in your head and you shifted to sit up out of Changmin's hold. “Then can you—”

“Yn,” Changmin lamented, predicting where your mind had wandered.

“—save her? Could you save her? Is there any way?” Someone titled with Magika Supreme must have the power or authority to achieve something like this. Chan's love for his sister fundamentally fueled all of his actions. Every malicious deed he pulled, every incantation he uttered, had been with the intent to save Chaeyoung from a fate she could not control. You wished his desperation hadn't shoved him over the edge; you wished he never had reason to get to such a point.

Amari paused, but not because she was uncertain of the possibility. She passed a glance to her prince, then to Changmin, before returning to you. “Of course, there is always a way, but it would require something in return.”

“Name it.”

Changmin grappled onto your arm. “Yn, you're walking into another soul bond. Please, just think about this first,” he implored, forcing you to look him in his wide eyes, dark and entreating.

It was reckless, you knew, but Chaeyoung was dying. Her brother tried all his life to lead her from a fate she couldn't control, but it only doomed her more. Were you simply continuing the cycle or could you do something good for her?

“The difference between your friend's magic—” you and Changmin's attention flitted over to Hongjoong, “—and the Magika Supreme's is that the latter won't be using corrupt magic to steal corrupted energy.” Hongjoong's smile was something warm and reassuring. What an effortless prince he made. “Whatever healing magic she'll use will work without crippling Chaeyoung's health more. Though, I can't promise about side effects; nature is a difficult divinity to fight against.”

Right. You blindly curled your fingers with Changmin's and the touch eased the throbbing in your chest. “What would you ask for in return?”

“You would be called to testify against Chan in our court,” Hongjoong stated, but not unkindly. “Take your time to think about it. I'm sure Changmin has my number.”

In the blink of an eye, Hongjoong and Amari were before you one second, then gone without a trace. A light gust of wind brushed past your face as the only evidence of magic being used. Beneath you, your floors were rid of the summoning circle and candles; and the Book of the Diabolical had disappeared from your table.

You and Changmin took your time returning your room to its former state. Your roommates outside in the main living space had all woken up from their forced slumber, their minds blank of the events leading up to Chan's ambush.

The emptiness in your chest left none to be desired. You sat in bed with your head against Changmin's shoulder, his hand playing with yours while your other rubbed your chest absentmindedly. No matter how much pressure you put, the chasm remained. Staying close to Changmin though remained second nature.

“What're you thinking about?” he murmured into your hair.

You tilted your nose up to graze his pulse. “How I'm going to tell Chaeyoung about this. She deserves to know what happened to Chan, at least.”

Changmin gave a slow nod. “I agree.”

Your eyes flickered up to his. “You're okay with me telling her? I can leave you out of it.”

“No, that's okay. She doesn't really know me,” he chuckled, that dimple impressing into his cheek. His smile widened as you leaned over and pressed your lips to it. “Are you feeling alright though? After everything?”

There wasn't much you could express with your words at the moment. How did one describe the loss of a friend? And how did one string together the words to tell someone that they loved them, that they were both the remedy and reason for the pounding of your heart? You did not know either for the time being. “It’ll take some getting used to.”

“What? The hole in your soul?” He pressed his palm flat against the center of his chest to feel the distant beat of his heart, slow, solid, and steady.

“That, and not being able to possess you.”

Changmin squawked in indignation. “And you say I'm the creep?”

“You literally still are!”

Both yours and Changmin's laughter lit up the dark, one spurring on the other. Though, if the shadows truly claimed him, then he was the night to your day; the other half for your whole; the one. Even if this entanglement began as an accident, all of the love you held for him was fully intentional. You would keep it safe in your chest, where he would always belong.

[the cast of incantations will return... maybe?]

a/n: IMPORTANT!!! i would like to write a follow-up/sequel to not only continue the plotline, but to also get a chance to better explore minor character dynamics, subplots with loose ends, and the literal fallout of these events because leaving it here is VERY unsatisfying. it would fulfill my creative needs esp since this was written under an extreme time constraint, but i also won't feel inclined to unless u reblog TT so pls. reblog and lmk what u thought ! thank u so much for reading :')

[shuaraes]

exclusively at midnight | h.js

- because you would never fully be his

oneshot | 2.2k | angst

everyone warned you that moving away was a risky idea. yet blinded by love you took the risk and started a new life with your partner so many miles from home. however, when your relationship starts to fall apart, you find solace in the only two things you have left: alcohol and the mysterious yet charming joshua hong. though joshua tries his best to mend your broken heart - you’re unaware that you’re also breaking his in the process.

~ pairing . joshua hong/hong jisoo x gn!reader

~ content . situationship!au, brief mentions of photographer!shua, low key forbiden relationship, flirty(??) banter, shua being a sweetheart, open ending, and ofc classic shuaraes yearing

~ tw/cw . alcohol and nicotine abuse, emotional cheating from reader (kinda?), alluded toxic relationship between partner and mother, mentions of a dead loved one, joshua has insomnia

~ song rec . stop the world i wanna get off with you - arctic monkeys

~ author’s note . happy halloween guyss, take this as my contribution to spooky season 😭 this is actually a heavily adapted and rewritten passage from an old wip. it was actually a jihan love triangle slow burn set in paris, but the writing is absolutely terrible and unsalvageable (i still love the general plot and characters, send an ask if u wanna find out more lmaoo) . but i really really liked this scene so i tried to rewrite this as best i could, but it’s still far from perfect, so sorry in advance 😭<33

FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, YOU YEARNED FOR A STORM.

One so violent it would tumble buildings and flood the earth. You wanted the raindrops to beat your back like hailstones and waves of thunder to shake this cursed city. But no; it was warm with not one late-night chill floating in the air. April had started just a few days back and with it brought the advent of spring, the world was turning towards new beginnings yet you had never felt so stuck and lost. Callous words replayed in your head like a glitchy record, the same syllables being repeated over and over till it all faded into one inescapable noise.

Moving here was supposed to be the start of the life you had always wanted: a big city, quaint apartment, your long-term partner and dreams just waiting to be fulfilled. You left the only home you had ever known, But you should’ve listened when you were told that ‘not all that glitters is gold’, not even their eyes when they told you they loved you. Everything you thought you knew - shattered. And all it took was one particularly nasty row. It left you disoriented - both mentally and physically, so you tried to find the answers to your problems by searching in the corners of rundown clubs and pools of scarlet red wine.

When you shook your purse, the lack of a jingle indicated that you had forgotten to pick up the notes and coins that you left on the bar counter to pay for a cab, swearing loudly like a teen getting their first taste of defiance. You headache went from a dull thud to full on pounding, maybe drinking away your problems wasn’t the best idea. The roads were empty and the streetlights dim. You made a note to never visit this part of the city again. Especially after the sun had already set.

Click, and in the corner of your eye was a small pocket of hell, wavering around its silver compartment. Long, calloused fingers tended to the flame before blowing it out and relighting it again. Click, your eyes darted to the lighter’s owner. A familiar face was not exactly what you were expecting.

It was like Joshua Hong existed exclusively at midnight, fading out of existence as dusk turned into dawn. But yet, as time went on, you found yourself thinking of his ebony hair and addictive smile in the middle of the afternoon. He looked like a dream - a sliver of his face illuminated by the flame. He hadn’t noticed you yet, sporting a slight frown, his forehead creasing as if in contemplation. He shook his head and took out a Marlboro from his half-empty packet, taking a drag as quickly as he lit it. The smoke swirled around his head like a ribbon: a gift bow tied at his lips. The pink was chapped and the skin around them dry. You wondered if he had been taking care of himself lately.

“Y/N what did I tell you about going out alone when it’s dark?” Your heart skipped beats like hurdles and your head was about to go for a joyride.

“Joshua Hong, are you trying to kill me?” You gripped your chest and Joshua chuckled lightly before taking another drag.

“I was trying to save you.” He blew out the smoke. “You were so lost in thought there, I thought you were about to faint.”

It came like clockwork – his caring gestures, words that always knew how to soothe and caress so tenderly. The way he spoke with such softness reminded you of your mother during your school days (when you failed one of your mock exams, she held you against her chest and cooed in your ear, back then you felt like you mattered: you wondered when it all went wrong). You knew he could smell the alcohol on you, but for once he chose to ignore it.

“What the fuck are you even doing crouching in some alleyway anyways? It’s sketchy, are you like a vampire or something?”

“I’m a photographer Y/N, the night provides underrated inspiration.” Joshua took another drag like a breath and relished in it like it was fresh air. You watched the smoke fall out of his mouth in puffs and you wondered if he did this all the time. As someone whose life dream was to create art you could relate, you just hoped you didn’t look as sketchy as him piecing together your ideas.

“Do you smoke?” He turned his body to you and asked.

“Not anymore, out grew it in my teenage years. But I get the temptation now and again.” You lay against the wall and stared up at the moon hidden behind the clouds. Your heart was heavier than you ever thought possible, a part of you wished the roads were busier. A car could just rush by and that would be the end of you and all your problems. Maybe then your partner would see your point of view.

“Trust me, you don’t.” He said, crushing the bun of his dying cigarette using the heel of his Doctor Martin’s. He turned back to face you, eyes gentler than a lover’s caress.

“Come, I know a place that I think might get your mind off things.”

—

“Joshua, slow down, are you trying to kill me?” You squealed as he shoved his hands against your back.

You swung back and forth, feet kicking wildly up into the air. With sections of your hair flying in front of your face sticking to your lip-gloss, the rusty metal chains etching deeper marks into the palms of your hand as Joshua swung you faster and faster, the bubbly laughter from behind you ricocheting off every corner of the children’s playground. With the force Joshua was pushing you at, you feared the swing would collapse under your weight. However, it was nice, for even just a minute, to pretend as if you and your actions were weightless, watching the world spin in circles. Like in your adolescence, when you and your hometown friends would get drunk on cheap vodka in a park not too different to the one you found yourself in and felt like not even God himself could touch you.

“Is that a challenge?” He remarked. Before you could respond he had already revved back to give you an even more powerful shove, giggling while seeing your face scrunch up in horror.

Joshua’s plan worked, within seconds of being with him, you forgot all about the argument with your partner. A guardian angel of sorts, Joshua came into your life how sleep comes to the tired - slow at first then engulfing you into a world that ceases to exist when you open your eyes again.

After every bitter fight, you always ended up by Joshua’s side. However, despite his pleading, you don’t leave them (they were the only trace of the person you used to be). But when you were with Joshua, you forgot it all: your nagging partner, the chill in your shared flat when they left you alone, that dull aching homesickness. Like magic, Joshua could clear your mind, his sweet smile causing an amnesia-like effect. Leaving only the faint smell of cigarette smoke and a deep feeling of emptiness to remember him by.

“Joshua Hong, you’re evil!” You squealed and he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “like the devil disguised in an angel’s body!”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” The smirk on his face was iridescent and for a second you almost couldn’t be mad at him.

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” You turned to him as he grabbed onto the metal chains to slow down the swing.

Up close his heart-shaped lips looked so impossibly soft, you craved them pressed up against your cheek, his hands around your neck- Fuck. You felt the alcohol coursing hot underneath your skin, erasing your already limited filter - you would never have this confidence sober.

“I’ll take it as a compliment, as that means you very indirectly called me attractive,” He replied with a cocky smirk.

“You’re reaching for heavens with that one.” You let out a chuckle as he sat on the seat beside yours and swung lightly to and fro.

“Is it a crime to hope you think of me in the same way I think of you?” He sighed and started up into the starless evening sky,

“What I’m trying to say is, I think you’re really beautiful Y/N.”

Before you could even form a response, Joshua was speaking again, rummaging in his coat pocket for a cigarette and lighter.

“I haven’t been here in years with someone. Even, I haven’t been here at all in quite a while. I’m surprised this place hasn’t been torn down.”

You could see what he meant. Even with the slightest of movements, the swing set groaned like a grey sky before a storm. Before sitting on it, Joshua had to blow off a thick layer of dust that had settled upon the seat, dispersing like age-old ashes. The rest of the park looked considerably abandoned, the grass looked like it hadn’t been cut in years and vegetation had grown in cracks between the concrete paving. You imagined this park on the very outskirts of the city used to be surrounded by bustling residential, where the park was used as a community hub and not a meeting place for a nicotine addict and the shittest partner known to man. When answering him back you had to pretend you were completely unaffected, as if you get called beautiful every day of the week (you don’t, your partner barely complimented you anymore.)

“Who was the last person you visited with then?”

Still staring at the sky, he answered, “My first love, this was her favourite place in the world.”

“Been?”You quip, confused, “How come she doesn’t like it anymore?”

Joshua turned to face you, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. The previous look of mischief in his eyes was impossible to trace, replaced with a gloomy grey. He looked slightly defeated and only then did you start to piece things together.

“Oh, Joshua…”Your voice softened, “I’m so sorry for your loss…”

Your memory panned back to past conversations and the way he spoke so fondly of her. You had assumed they fell apart like first loves normally do. Then you remembered that not even a couple of minutes ago he called you beautiful, it made you feel guilty about the way your heart fluttered at the compliment even though he may have thought nothing of it.

And there it was, as if a director cut the slate and the curtains opened, rain started to pour from the sky. ‘Pathetic fallacy at its finest’, you thought to yourself, as you watched the rain soak Joshua head to toe, drops of water running down his face like crystal tears. The water so easily slipped of the leather of his brown jacket and onto his dark wash jeans. Under the showering sky, you felt as if you both were black and white film stars, playing destined lovers. Everything felt like destiny with Joshua, even though you knew you both were never meant to be. So entranced in the warmth of his soft brown eyes, you almost didn’t feel the chill that ran down your spine at the feeling of your damp clothes clinging to your skin.

“It’s okay, though it isn’t. It’s just something I have to come to terms with. I’m grateful that I loved her while I had the chance to.” You hummed in agreement, and he lit the cigarette and took a drag for longer than he usually did.

“Up until today,” He continued, “I still have trouble sleeping.”

“Same, not with the dead girlfriend part but with the trouble sleeping bit.” He laughed at that. You smiled, relishing that he found you funny. “I’m like half melatonin at this point.”

“And you call me the vampire?” Joshua smiled a smile that showed his teeth peeking out from his gums.

“Well, that makes the two of us! So when are we going on a one-way trip to Transylvania?”

“We’ll have to see about that,” Joshua said and got off the swing, the chains squeaking as he removed his weight. You decided to push yourself while you waited for him to put out his cigarette.

With you staring up at the starless black sky, Joshua knew he shouldn’t. He knew the feelings festering in the depths of his abdomen would bring him to ruin someday. Somewhere along the line, he knew he would regret this night. Whether it would have been tomorrow in the shimmering amber of dawn or a drunken night ten years too late. Because you would never fully be his and he would never fully be yours.

He knew that. He knew that. Yet…

You were nothing short of beautiful. The way your eyes glistened, laugh sounded and skin smelt. The way your wet clothes stuck to your body. The way he knew you were suffering yet he couldn’t do much about it. If you asked, he would put his life on the line for you. You crumbled every bit of his glass-like resolve and you did it effortlessly. He swore never to love another, to call someone else his. But you were making it oh so difficult. His disposable camera in his right hand felt heavier than his fast-beating heart. It rang throughout his chest and travelled into his ears. A warning siren: the universe begged him not to. His camera would get damaged, the photo would come out blurry, it’s not worth it-

Fuck it.

Flash

He snapped a photo of you anyway.

[drabblejester]

Boothill hcs or oneshot with a mechanic reader?

Please and thank you!!

BOOTHILL and his MECHANIC!READER!

requested by: anon :3

pairings: boothill x mechanic!reader (romantic or platonic)

content warnings: angst. angst. a lot of angst

comments: you didn’t specify if you wanted it fluffy or not my liegeHEEHEE…. i was listening to euthanasia - will wood while writing this btw

Old Habits Die Hard

(wc: 619)

You sat alone in your office, scrambled papers and tools being your only company at the moment. Many papers you needed to sign, many machines you needed to fix up. Your life was a never ending buzz of being busy and tired, truly.

Your latest ‘project’ hasn’t been back in a while, however. Of course, calling him simply a project was inhumane. Even he was human once, in a far away past. You weren’t the one to initially fix him up, sure, but he told you about it all. The previous mechanics and scientists, how they turned him into a machine- and now you need to fill up that role.

Your door creaked open.

And your one and only Boothill stood in the doorway, hunched over with strands of hair stuck to his face. Although he did not have proper lungs anymore, old habits die hard. His chest still heaved, uneven and shaking. As stoic as he was, he seemed more broken down than you thought.

You stood up from your chair, brushing eraser dust from your pants as you approach him slowly. The lights in your office were dimmed, only the glow from Boothill’s eyes and a few lights illuminating you both. His crosshairs faded away as you approached him, you hesitate to put your hand on his shoulder. He notices.

“Too- too scared to put your hands on me, doc?”

His stutter wasn’t just because of a broken voicebox, but also due to his emotions. Damn to such organic things. His head raised slightly, hair covering his face enough to cover most details. But he still stared at you with those unreadable eyes.

His emotions have become much more different, and much more difficult to decipher now. You couldn’t tell if he was scared, or enraged. Possibly a mix of both. Fuck, you were an engineer, not a therapist. But you still try to brush away a few strands of his hair, tucking them behind his ear.

And at that moment, he crumbled to the floor. The loud squealing of rusted metal combined with a rough impact made your head hurt. But he simply sat there in front of you, one arm still remaining on the doorway, both knees on the floor, and his head faced away from you and tilted down. His body tremored heavily, sobs wracking his body with no tears.

He had no more tears left to cry, the ducts in his eyes being barren for years. It was the simple inability to do such a human thing- to cry- that made him feel worse. He really did lose himself.

You kneel down in front of him as well, boots squeaking on the floor. You look at him through his matted hair, through those metal eyes. And all you see, is a scared young man, who’s seen too much too soon. Your expression is tired but gentle, difficult to see, just like his.

You reach out for him once more. He flinches. You bring your hand back for a moment, before he grabs it roughly. His grip quickly softens though, rubbing against the skin he gripped in a silent apology which you accept. He brings your hand to his cheek, his grip loosening before his hand drops to the floor.

He’d shut down soon, and you can repair him then. But for now, you simply sit there with him, your hand gently rubbing his cheek. His eyes close slowly, and his head leans into your palm and weighs heavily upon it.

“Y’know,” he mumbles with a broken voice, “My papas used t’ hold me just like this.”

“They did?” “They did.”

The silence in the room thickens after you both speak. You don’t want to remove your hand, so you shift yourself and Boothill into a better position. You lay farther back, using an empty box as a cushion. Boothill rests on your chest, your hand remaining on his cheek the whole time. He hums.

He hums a quiet, cautious tune. An old one that you don’t recognize, but it seems like Boothill knows it very well. He mumbles a few words to the lullaby before his fans go silent, and his body fully slumps against yours.

Old habits do die hard.

i dont have anything funny to say im sorry

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 12

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting. sex talk - Oberyn and Ellaria are together in this chapter, but it's offscreen.

Word Count: 14,251 (whoops.)

Summary: It's one night out - and you need it.

When Tyene and Toban take you out to give Oberyn and Ellaria the privacy they need, you're able to fill the night with something that you've been lacking for the previous weeks: non-vampire company.

While out, you spend some time talking with everyone, digging just a little deeper into how - and why - their family has lasted for so long.

Back at the apartment, the group springs something on you ... and you decide to take your chances and let Oberyn know exactly how it makes you feel.

A/N: First of all, we're very sorry that this has taken a literal year. Life happens, but we're back at it with our favorite Vampire Prince. We appreciate your patience, and we really and truly hope that this chapter is everything you've hoped for - there's not too much left to this story now, but I can tell you with certainty that this chapter contains the bulk of their last "relaxed" moments before shit hits the fan.

Thank you for reading. Happy Halloween (if you celebrate!) Questions or concerns? You know where to find us.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

You hadn’t stopped smiling since Toban handed you the phone and told you to invite a friend out for drinks. And once Nora showed up at the bar you suggested, you knew the smile wasn’t likely to fade any time soon. Oh, I really fucking needed this.  

The past two weeks had been surreal in every way. 

Just fourteen days earlier, you were at Golden Lion’s Halloween party, and the biggest shock had been the fact that Oscar - the alluring and attractive stranger you’d met in a chance encounter a few days prior - was also in attendance. 

Since then you’d watched that same attractive stranger wield what you thought had been a prop blade in an alley fight as he saved your life from a brutal attack while risking his own. You’d also learned that his name was not Oscar but Oberyn Martell - Prince of Dorne and one of the immortals known as Others that you always assumed were just the stuff of ancient folklore. 

All of that would have been enough to fill your Bingo card of things you never even dreamed were possible. But it was only the beginning. 

From the ease with which you’d accepted who and what he was, to the undeniable physical and emotional pull you felt toward him; from the paralyzing fear that filled your heart when you thought you might lose him, to the overwhelming urge to do everything in your power to help him not only survive but also conquer his enemies, you’d been on a non-stop adrenaline fueled rollercoaster. And it’s not over yet. 

Under normal circumstances, you never would have gone through so many life-changing events without opening up to Nora about it. The two of you rarely went more than a day without talking, even if it was just about the mundane details of your Thursday afternoon. The fact that you hadn’t been able to talk to her at all, let alone tell her about everything you’d been through, had made the stress of it all seem heavier. For obvious reasons you still couldn’t tell her most of what had happened since the last time you spoke, and you weren’t sure if that would ever change. 

But as she wrapped you in a tight hug and then slid into the seat across from you at one of the high-top tables, you realized that it didn’t matter. Not that night, anyway. That night, all that mattered was that for an hour or two, you got to have a normal night out with your friend.

As discussed with both Toban and Tyene prior to Nora’s arrival, you kicked off the conversation with your cover story for being MIA for the last two weeks.  You explained that immediately after the Golden Lion party, the company contracted you for another big project. This one, unlike the archival work they’d had you doing previously, dealt with much more sensitive information - and as a result, the confidentiality protocols were far more strict. 

“The two other people on the team both had to travel pretty far for this job. Golden Lion put us all up temporarily in a hotel downtown so we’d be able to work together and not have to commute anywhere.” You didn’t love lying to her, but it was more like a stretched version of the truth than an outright fabrication. Plus, you had previously worked on projects that required you to relocate for the duration, so you hoped that Nora would buy your explanation without too many follow up questions. “And in the chaos of packing and all that, I lost my phone and just got a new one today, so that’s why I haven’t called or texted or anything until tonight.” 

You were met with a smirk. “Yeah, that and the fact that you hooked up with rooftop bar guy. I’d lose track of my phone, too.” You rolled your eyes as she winked. “So is this him?” Nora asked, cocking her head in the direction of the bar, where Toban stood waiting for your drinks. What? Oh, she must have seen me talking to him when she got here. “The guy you absconded with after the Halloween party for… hmm, let’s call it a -” She held up her fingers to make air quotes. “A long weekend of do-not-interrupt style sex and- ” 

Your eyes went wide as you cut her off. “Oh my god, Nora, no.” In your peripheral view you could have sworn you caught Tyene barely conceal a snort from across the room. You knew without a doubt that Toban had also heard the assumption. But while he was likely to just brush it off and never bring it up again, you could already hear Tyene teasing you about it every chance she got. Oh well, nothing I can do about that now. 

You let out a small huff of laughter and shook your head. “Toban is one of the people on my team for the new project Golden Lion has me working on. We get along well, but… no. It wasn’t him.” 

She clicked her tongue. “Here I thought I was gonna get to meet the guy that charmed you out of that costume you spent days making. What’s his name? You never told me. And where’s he tonight?” 

Oh, he’s busy fucking the side effects of an ancient immortal’s powerful blood out of his system so that he can focus on finishing a two thousand year old revenge plot. You cleared your throat. “His name is Oscar, and he already had plans for tonight.” Circling your wrist, you went on. “Some kind of family obligation I think.” 

Nora gave you a small frown. “Well that’s a bummer. But-” Her frown curved upwards, morphing into a smirk. “Since he’s not here, that means you can tell me everything. So spill.” 

You laughed, one hand coming up to cover your eyes as you shook your head. Oh, Nora, even if I could tell you everything, I’m not sure you’d believe me. Dropping your hand back to the table, you looked up at her wearing a small smirk of your own. “Okay, well, I’m not gonna tell you everything, because…” You trailed off and rolled your eyes at the ceiling. “Some things need to stay between me, Oscar and the walls, if you catch my drift.” Like the fact that I kept him alive by letting him drink my blood, or that he gave me a mark of protection that he hasn’t given anyone else in hundreds of years. 

Nora scoffed. “Fine. I’ll settle for whatever you can tell me. Like… What’s he look like? What does he do for a living? And, the most important detail -” She held up one finger and tilted her head, fixing you with a serious stare. “What’s it like to kiss him?” 

At her third question you felt your cheeks flood with warmth. Pretty sure he invented good kissing. Letting out a breathy laugh, you answered her in order. “Well, he’s so goddamn handsome that he literally called me out for staring at him when we met.” Nora snorted as you went on. “He’s got gorgeous brown eyes and an incredible smile. Dark hair, tall, strong - like, really strong.” Immortally, supernaturally strong. “He dresses really well, too. Like, he looks just as good wearing clothes as he does out of them.” Tyene is never going to let me live that one down but I don’t care. 

“Hot.” Nora’s smile widened. That doesn’t even come close to describing it.

You laughed and addressed her next question, telling her that Oscar was an art and antiquities dealer, and that he was at the party because he was doing business with Golden Lion. That was a fabrication, again one that you decided on beforehand. But it also had some anchor in the truth - between his pendant, the spear, and - you were positive - countless other items of priceless value that he likely owned and had stashed away in places around the world, he could at the very least be deemed a collector. And he definitely has business with the Lannisters, so… 

Luckily, Nora didn’t press you for more on his occupation. “Nice. So he’s hot, cultured, smart and has good taste.” She ticked those qualities off on her fingers and you nodded along with each of them. “Now what about the smooching?” 

You took a big breath, your tongue poking into your cheek as you tried and failed to contain your smile. Letting out a sigh, you looked your friend square in the eye. “Dizzyingly good. It’s hard to stop, honestly.” 

“Ah!” Nora drummed her fingers against the tabletop. “Good for you! So is this like, a thing?” She flattened her forearms in front of herself and leaned over them. “Are you guys like, seeing each other?” 

One hand came up to the side of your neck, your fingertips instinctively finding the place where you wore Oberyn’s mark on your skin. You thought about what he’d told you about why he’d stopped offering his protection, even to those he cared deeply for - and about what it meant that none of that mattered to him when he marked you. Toban’s words from the rooftop echoed through your mind - “I am glad that it will not be the same with you.” - as though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Oberyn intended to offer you more than just his protection. 

Your chest swelled as you recalled what Oberyn had said regarding finally finding someone to make that offer to  - “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Throat going dry, you heard your own voice as you almost uttered the words “I love you” to him as you were falling asleep. 

If all of that didn’t qualify as a thing, you weren’t sure what did. 

“We, um…” You swallowed, dropping your hand down to the table and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think so, Nora.” Nodding, you bit your bottom lip and shrugged. “We’re not… we haven’t really talked much about the future or anything.” Your head shook from side to side. “We’re just seeing how things go for now though.” 

That was true. 

As much as you wanted to believe that you would be in Oberyn’s plans - and in his life - after things with the Lannisters had been settled, you needed to make it to the after, first. As much as you wanted to let yourself imagine what being with him without a constant threat hanging over your heads might look like, you needed to get out from under it before anything you imagined could become possible. 

Nora reached across the table and placed her hand on your wrist, one eyebrow arched high. “But you like him?” 

At that, you couldn’t help the amused sound you made as you blew out a burst of air. “God, yeah.” You rolled your eyes at the way heat bloomed in your cheeks and in the center of your chest at the admission. “Yeah, I like him. A lot.”

“I can tell.” She beamed at you, gently shaking your arm. “This is as over the fucking moon as I’ve ever seen you, and it sounds like this Oscar feels the same.” Releasing her grip, she drew her hand back, resting that elbow on the tabletop and her chin in her palm. “I’m happy you’re happy, even if it’s new.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just be careful and all that shit I’m legally obligated to say as your friend.” 

You laughed again. “I will,” you assured her. In more ways than you mean, I will. “I promise.” 

She nodded once. “Well, if this does turn out to be a thing, I hope I get to meet him next time.” 

I want that to happen. So much. “If it does,” you winked, giving her a small grin. “You will.” 

“Good.” She narrowed her eyes before letting them dart over to the bar, catching on Toban again as he and Tyene started heading back your way, drinks in hand. You had to stop yourself from laughing as her expression turned almost comically wistful. “So, quick question. Do you know if tall, chiseled and handsome over there is fair game? Because…” She widened her eyes, nodding as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Definitely would hit.” 

At that you snorted. Partially because you’d had a sneaking suspicion that Nora would be attracted to Toban, but also because you knew that he had just heard her comment even though she thought she was being covert. You had no idea if Toban enjoyed the company of humans the same way that Oberyn did, or if he would even entertain Nora’s flirting. But what could it hurt? “Yeah,” you let out a huff of laughter. “Go for it.” 

“Go for what?” Toban asked, a grin tinting his voice and lighting up his green eyes. He set a beer down in front of Nora before taking a seat next to her. “Drinks? We already have those.” 

You pressed your lips together as you watched Nora try to look less flustered than the man’s proximity to her was causing her to be. “Yes we do, thanks to you.” She beamed at him, one hand wrapping around her pint glass. 

Beside you, Tyene plopped into her seat and slid you one of the two drinks she carried, shooting you an amused sideways glance and raising her eyebrows. Yeah, I know. You shrugged as Nora continued answering Toban’s question. 

“No, um, we-” She motioned with her pointer finger between the two of you. “We were talking about a work thing. I was asking her if I should…” Laughing at herself, she shook her head. “Nevermind that, though, we’re here to have fun.” 

“We are.” Tyene spoke up, lifting her glass. “Cheers to that.” 

For the next hour or so that was exactly what you did. 

Conversation flowed easily between the four of you, Tyene and Toban joking and engaging with Nora like they’d known her as long as you had. At one point she mentioned an upcoming trip to Lisbon for her cousin’s wedding, and Toban, laying his wide palm over her forearm and causing her eyes to dart excitedly to yours before snapping back to his, offered enthusiastic recommendations of some of his favorite places in the city. You snorted into a sip of beer at just how raptly she listened, the woman propping her elbow on the table and leaning her chin into her hand. Subtle.

When you finished the first round, Nora excused herself to the ladies’ room, Tyene popping up to tag along so she could touch up her makeup while you and Toban grabbed refills. 

“Nora seems like she’s having a good time.” He leaned against the bar rail and faced you with a smile. “I hope you are, too.” 

You grinned at him as you stepped up to the bar and waved down the bartender. “I am.” You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh. “I really am.” Opening your eyes again, you gently knocked his elbow with yours. “Thank you for this.” 

“My pleasure,” he responded with a quick wink before turning to place the drink order with the man who had just appeared in front of you. “We’ll take four more of the same, and you can put it on my tab. Thanks.” The bartender nodded and headed for the taps, Toban returning his attention to you. “I do have something to ask you, though.” 

You tilted your head, eyebrows drawn together. “What’s up?” You stood up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Is something wrong? “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, I promise. If there was a problem, we’d already be gone. ” He placed his hand on your shoulder and you instantly relaxed, dropping your arms again. Damn, that’s useful. “I just still have to take care of finding someone to -” 

“Oh!” Your eyebrows flew up as you realized what he was getting at. He still needs to feed. “Toban, if you need to drink I’ll let you -” 

He shook his head then, cutting you off. “That’s not what I was going to ask you.” He gave you a grateful smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but you wear Oberyn’s mark.” Your eyes widened. Oh, shit, is that some kind of etiquette thing that I just fucked up? “And while I’m sure he would not be upset, that is a line I won’t cross for my own reasons.” I … don’t know what that means, but now I want to. 

You swallowed. “Okay. So what um -” The bartender showed up then, dropping off two of the four drinks you were waiting on. “Thanks,” you accepted the glasses and waited for him to step away to grab the others before finishing your question. “What did you need to ask me then?” 

Toban shot a glance in the direction that Tyene and Nora would be returning from, then settled his eyes on yours. “I was wondering if you would be okay with me drinking from Nora.” 

The shock you felt registered as a quick outburst of laughter. “What?” You blinked at him, your expression still halfway between amusement and confusion. “You’re asking me permission to…” You trailed off as the bartender set down the other two drinks. 

“Thank you,” Toban nodded to the man. “You can keep it open for now.” Once he’d walked away to take care of other patrons, Toban resumed the conversation the two of you were having. “I’m asking if you would be okay with it, or if you would rather I found someone else. But if I do that, I should start looking soon because we’re probably going to be ready to head back in another hour, give or take.” 

Even though you didn’t want to rush the night, a jolt of excitement passed through you at the prospect of getting back to Oberyn. Ugh, Nora was right, I really am over the moon. But as difficult a task as it was, you set aside your eagerness to be back in his arms and focused on Toban’s question. Because it’s important. We didn’t just come out tonight to socialize, he needs to be ready for… for what’s coming, and that means he needs to drink. 

Clearing your throat, you considered what he’d asked you. “I…” Honestly, I feel like if I say no and Nora found out, she’d be mad at me, so…  You shrugged. “I know you won’t hurt her, so I don’t see why not.” 

Toban locked his eyes with yours. “I won’t hurt her, you have my word on that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Toban. If it feels right between you … I won’t think it’s weird or anything.” 

He grinned. “Thank you.” Wrapping his hands around two of the glasses, he jutted his chin over your shoulder. “They’re back, we should go join them.” 

Picking up the other two, you followed him back to the table. Well, Nora, you did say you were into him. Let’s see what happens. 

As though she could hear your thoughts and needed to prove them true, your friend spoke up then. “So I noticed that they have a dart board here.” She brought her free hand up and across her body to point out the black and white circular game board. Your eyes flicked in that direction and then back to her face. “Anyone feel like playing?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You want to play darts?” 

Nora blinked twice and gave you a tiny head shake which you took to mean play along. “I think it could be fun.” Her eyes shifted in Toban’s direction and then back to meet yours. 

Deciding to give her just a little bit of shit, you scrunched your nose. “Are you any good at darts?” 

She widened her eyes at you and pressed her lips together, and you had to take a sip of your drink to keep from bursting out in laughter at the flash of mock frustration in her eyes at your question. “Well, I don’t know. But I’m sure Toban could teach me.” She turned to face him, her cheeks lifting into her eyes with a broad smile. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”  

Tyene snorted before Toban could answer. “Oh, this should be good.” She linked her arm through yours and spoke your name. “C’mon, looks like we’re teammates.” As you stood, Tyene looked over to Nora and jerked her chin in Toban’s direction. “He’s really good with pointy things. He can definitely teach you.”

With that, your group moved to a high top table near the dart boards, the four of you playing a few games. Much to your and Tyene’s - and likely Toban’s - amusement, Nora took every opportunity to ask him  for help with her aim, your friend practically swooning when the man placed his hand on her back and adjusted her stance. This is officially the strangest wingwoman situation I have ever been involved with, but it’s fine. 

Midway through the third game, during one of Nora’s shots, Tyene’s phone dinged from inside her jacket pocket. “Hey,” she flicked her eyes from the screen up to meet yours, and then turned the phone around so that you could see the screen before glancing up to catch Toban’s eye. 

Setting your mostly empty glass on the table, you looked down at the message. 

You can come back whenever you’re ready. 

The words, though simple enough, made your heart pound against the walls of your chest as soon as you’d read them. Excitement to be back in the apartment with Oberyn swirled with a sudden rush of nerves over the potential for awkwardness, knowing what went on while the three of you had been out with Nora. What if it’s weird? What if he… 

Without thinking, you lifted your fingers to brush over the invisible mark on your skin. You felt your own pulse thrum under your touch as you marveled again at the importance of the sigil you wore. No. It won’t be weird. Nothing will be different, it’s just… 

Tyene cleared her throat and slipped her phone back into her pocket. “So I’m thinking we let Bullseye McGee and Toban win this round and then head out. Thoughts?” 

The uncertainty you were feeling seconds earlier vanished as you laughed, muttering “Bullseye McGee” under your breath with a shake of your head. “I think that’s a good plan,” you responded, lifting your glass and tapping it against Tyene’s. “What about -” You tipped your head in Toban and Nora’s direction. “Doesn’t he still need to -” You widened your eyes, and then it was Tyene’s turn to laugh. 

“Yeah, he still needs to walk Nora home.” She winked exaggeratedly, and you took the hint. He’ll take care of that at her place. Got it.  

“Right.” You nodded, winking back at her, and then you finished the last of your drink. “Okay then. Let’s go lose at darts real quick.” 

You caught Toban’s grin as he listened in from a few feet away, and then you stepped up to get Nora on the same page as the rest of you. Well, close to the same page, anyway. Conjuring up a yawn, you reached over to squeeze her elbow. “I think we should probably get going soon. Tomorrow’s a big day for our project, and -” Your stomach flipped inelegantly at the truth of that statement, but you did your best to ignore it. 

“- And you need your beauty sleep.” Nora finished your sentence, pinching your cheek teasingly before rolling her eyes. “Fine, be a buzzkill.” She draped her arm around your shoulder. “But let’s finish this game first. I’m feeling a comeback.” 

You laughed. “Oh are you?” You gestured to the board, where her last dart was still stuck two wedges to the left of where she was aiming. “Alright, then. Let’s see it happen.” 

Twenty five minutes later, you’d hugged Nora goodbye before asking her to let you know when she got in, and then you watched as she and Toban headed down the street in the direction of her building. It was probably about a fifteen minute walk for them - roughly double the time it would take you and Tyene to get back to the apartment you’d been staying in. But the night air was pleasantly cool so you didn’t mind the walk and you knew Nora wouldn’t, either. Especially because it means more time with Toban. 

The thought made you laugh to yourself, prompting Tyene to ask what was so funny. 

“Oh, maybe it’s the fact that I sent my normal human best friend off to make out with an immortal she just met.” 

“An immortal who is planning to drink her blood,” she added, pointing at you with a smirk. “Don’t forget that part.” 

That drew another laugh from you, as you once again pondered how all of this was actually happening in your life right now. That train of thought brought up another question. Wait a minute…  You looked over at Tyene, curiosity cutting a crease between your eyebrows. “Actually, about that part specifically…Can I ask you something?” 

She swiveled her head in your direction, short hair bouncing with the movement, and gave you a small shrug. “Sure. Go ahead.”  

Okay, now how do I word this? “How, um -” You hesitated, clearing your throat and reaching across your body to adjust the strap of your bag. “On nights like tonight, when you go out to -”  Fuck, just ask the question. “How do you drink without the person knowing?” You dropped your arm back to your side, head shaking slightly. “Don’t they feel anything?” I definitely did. “Wouldn’t they… I don’t know, don’t they notice?” 

“Oh, simple,” she replied, facing forward and continuing to walk without missing a step. “We just hypnotize them.” 

You clicked your tongue and gave her a playful swat on the arm. “Tyene.” She laughed at the false exasperation in your tone, the sound contagious enough to make you laugh, too. “I’m being serious.” 

“And how do you know I’m not? Hmm?” She glanced over at you with one eyebrow raised. “You ask a question, I give you an answer, and you automatically assume I’m fucking with you?” Her left hand came up to her chest. “That hurts, you know?” 

“Well maybe if you don’t want to be the girl who cried Direwolf you could try - I don’t know - not fucking with me every chance you get.” 

That only made her laugh harder, her head tipping back. “Yeah, yeah,” she replied. “But where would the fun in that be?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you’d find ways to have fun without playing confuse-the-human.” 

She draped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you in. “Hey, I’ve gotta strike while the iron is hot. I won’t be able to play that game with you forever.” 

She winked, giving you a small squeeze before releasing you. Her words made you suck in a quick breath. She keeps… Your heart thudded hard, and you knew she could hear it. It was far from the first time that Tyene had alluded to the fact that she didn’t believe you would stay human once Oberyn finally had his revenge. You didn’t love to admit it, but you knew that there was a part of you that wanted her to be right. But I still don’t know if - 

Your thoughts were interrupted as she spoke again. “Think of it as a rite of passage.” I will absolutely not think of it that way, but okay. “And if it makes you feel any better, you’re way better at picking up on my bullshit than others have been in the past.” 

“Oh, good.” You said it sarcastically, and through a smirk. But you were aware that the ability to pick up on - and call her out on - her bullshit actually meant something to Tyene. Your smirk grew into a real smile. “I’m so glad.” I am, though. “But can I please get a real answer now?” 

She snorted. “Yeah, alright.” The two of you stopped at a corner, Tyene pressing the button on the post to change the signal. You watched as she did another quick scan of the area, her eyes darting around to make sure that you weren’t being followed or listened to. There were other people out on the street, but they were all self-contained in their own little groups and pairs, none of them paying the two of you any attention. After a few seconds, Tyene confirmed your safety by continuing the conversation. “The answer is actually a simple one, even if it doesn’t involve hypnosis.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We can control what our bite will feel like.” 

You felt your eyes widen in surprise. Oh. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but it immediately made sense - they wouldn’t want to harm or scare the humans they drank from, but when encountering an enemy, they had the ability to inflict intense pain. Like when Oberyn bit Gregor in the alley. He definitely wanted it to hurt then. 

The walk signal changed and Tyene stepped off the curb, with you following half a step behind. “So,” you took a longer stride to catch back up with her. “So to them it just feels like… nothing?” 

“Well I don’t know if I’d say it feels like nothing. I like to think that after four hundred years I’m a little bit better at making out than nothing.” 

“No, I -”  You groaned, the sound turning into a laugh as you brought one hand up to your face.   “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” 

“See?” The point of her elbow bumped your bicep. “Very good at recognizing my bullshit.” She laughed, letting her arm drop to swing naturally with her gait. “But to actually answer your question, all they feel is the rush from kissing a stranger.” She shrugged. “No one’s going to complain about a little nip on the lip or one of us paying some extra attention to their neck.” No, I guess they wouldn’t. “And we always heal them when we’re finished, so there’s no marks or cuts. No proof.” She looked over at you, pausing to look past you and into the night for another check of your surroundings, her eyes coming back to yours after a few seconds. “We only take small amounts, so they typically don’t feel any side effects. But since we almost always pick someone at a bar it's easy enough to blame any slight dizziness during or immediately after on the alcohol.”

You hummed. “That makes sense.” 

You weren’t entirely sure, because it was dark and you weren’t as familiar with the part of the city the apartment was in as you were with other areas, but you thought you were getting close to the building. Probably just a few more blocks, and then - 

“I’m guessing you’re asking because Oberyn didn’t mask it when he drank from you?” 

“Um.” You blinked, clearing your throat before responding. “No, he… I definitely felt it. I mean -” You shook your head. “I knew what he was going to do, even the first time. I told him to do it, so I guess there was no reason for him to. And he was -” You took a breath that shook as you tried not to think about how close to death he was when the poison was at its worst. “He was injured, so maybe he couldn’t control it as much because of that?”  

“From what Ellaria told me, he would have been too weak to control what you felt closer to when she arrived.” That tracked. The poison in Gregor’s blood had left him so debilitated that he hadn’t even been able to heal you after a certain point. And I was so out of it I didn’t even know it was happening towards the end. “But,” Tyene held up one finger. “Not when he first drank from you. He would have been able to make it painless then.” 

“It didn’t hurt,” you clarified, shaking your head. “I thought it would, but it didn’t.” Heat rose to your cheeks as they lifted in an involuntary smile at the memory. “It was… it felt good.”

Tyene chuckled under her breath. “Leave it to Oberyn to try to pleasure his last meal.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she swung her head in your direction. “I’m kidding, I know you mean way more to him than that. And I’m not trying to make light of how serious the situation you both were in was.” She sighed. “That is like him, though. Thinking more about the people he cares for than he does himself. He wanted you to understand what was happening, because you’re not just some random hookup from a bar.” She smirked. “But he also wanted you to like what was happening, because you’re not just some random hookup from a bar.” 

No, I guess I’m not. You thought back on everything Oberyn had told you about his past - about Isabel and Cameron, and how much they each meant to him. They both knew what he was. He trusted, respected, and loved them enough not to hide it from them. Not to hide himself from them. It was overwhelming to think that that list now included you - that he had already started to feel the same way about you that he felt about them. That’s… I shouldn’t think about that. I should focus on - 

“You know,” Tyene broke the silence, her tone more serious than usual as you turned the final corner that brought your destination into view. “I don’t think I thanked you yet, for everything you did for him.” She sighed, tipping her head back to look briefly up at the sky. “In my first life, I lost my parents when I was still young. But once I met Ellaria and Oberyn?” She paused, turning toward you and wearing as soft a smile as you’d ever seen on her sharp features. “I never felt like I didn’t have a family. They both became like parents to me.” Oberyn had told you as much about Tyene’s history. But hearing it from her - hearing the emotion in her voice - made it hit much harder. “Losing him would have been…” 

She trailed off and you understood why. There weren’t words to describe that kind of loss, especially after centuries spent together. 

Reaching over, you took her hand and squeezed it. “I hope you never have to finish that sentence, Tyene.” 

She returned your squeeze and then lifted her hand to swipe at her eye. “Me fucking too.” She laughed and then you did, too, and then you were walking through the glass lobby doors and into the building. 

The elevator ride up to your floor was quick, with no one else getting on or off. As soon as the light indicated that you’d arrived, Tyene stated that she was headed straight for a shower. “The last apartment had shitty water pressure, so I’m taking full advantage while we’re at this place.” 

“It did, and I don’t blame you,” you responded. You got the feeling that while she was at least half serious about the water pressure, her immediate plans also had to do with giving you and Oberyn some time together, and for that you were grateful. “Enjoy it.” 

She scanned the key fob against the lock, the mechanism beeping as it opened. “Thanks, I absolutely will.” 

You followed Tyene through the door, turning to close and lock it behind you. As soon as you slid the deadbolt into place, and before you could turn back around, you heard your name. “You are back.” 

A syrupy smile spread across your face at the sound of Oberyn’s voice close behind you. “We are,” you replied before you moved, his hands reaching for and landing at your waist. 

“He just means you!” Tyene called from the hallway. “He doesn’t really give a shit that I’m back!” 

That made a laugh burst out of you, your forehead leaning forward against the door as Oberyn’s fingers curled more tightly around you. 

“I do care that you are back, Tyene.” You could tell without looking that he was speaking over his shoulder to her. “But -” You closed your eyes and took a breath through your nose as you felt his lips press behind your ear. “I did mean you.” 

You turned to face him then, one of your hands landing on his shoulder, the other resting flat against the right side of his chest. “I am,” you corrected your response. “Hi, Oberyn.” 

He smiled as you said his name, his eyes shining like dark suns and making you suck in a breath. 

Oh, he’s… There was a slight change in them from earlier, a brightness you hadn’t seen since he kissed you on the balcony at the Halloween party. It hit you hard to know that in that moment he was as much himself as he had been before his encounter with Gregor in the alley. 

There had been a subtle, underlying dullness in his eyes while he was suffering the effects of the poison, and a sharpness to their glint after Ellaria had given him so much of her blood to save him. But now he’s… You lifted your hand from his shoulder, bringing it up to rake your fingers through his hair, and Oberyn’s smile grew with the contact. This is all him, and exactly as it should be. 

“Hi,” he murmured in response, his grip moving from your waist to the crooks of your elbows before sliding down your arms to take your hands in his. “Did you have a good time?” 

You nodded, letting him pull you away from the door. “I did. Seeing Nora was…” You sighed. “I really needed that.” 

Oberyn ran his hands back up your arms, giving your biceps a light squeeze. “Good. I am glad that you were able to spend some time with her.” He dropped his left arm back to his side then, but lifted his right so that he could cup your cheek. “But I am even more glad that you are back. And that you are safe.” 

Pressing into his touch, you hummed. He’s so warm. “Me too. I knew I was safe with Tyene and Toban, though.” 

“You were.” His thumb swept over the crest of your cheek, and then his eyes narrowed as they flicked to the door and back to your face. He dropped his arm, looking over your shoulder at the door, and you took the opportunity to slip your shoes off. “Where is Toban? Did something happen, or -” 

From the hallway, Tyene poked her head back into the room, answering before you had a chance to. “He walked his midnight snack home to make sure she got there in one piece.” She disappeared again, the sound of a door closing behind her telling you that she’d likely gone into one of the bedrooms. 

You snorted, leaning into Oberyn’s chest and laughing. Nora would actually love to know that she was just referred to as a midnight snack. The context isn’t even important. . 

His arms came around you then, holding you close like he wanted to absorb the feel of your laughter. It made your heart flip. Oh, Oberyn. You wound yours around his back and turned your head to fit yourself against him, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke again. 

“Wait a minute. Does that mean…” He pulled back just enough to look down at you, an amused expression on his face. You peered back up at him, barely holding back another laugh as he arched one eyebrow. “He drank from Nora?”

You wrinkled your nose and nodded. “Yeah, I think that was the plan. But don’t worry, she was definitely into it.” 

Oberyn chuckled, the sound bringing a warm amber tone to his voice as a teasing smirk played on his lips. “So she met someone at a bar and she probably let them bite her?” One eyebrow formed a perfect arch. “You and your friend are a lot alike.”  

Rolling your eyes, you let out a scoff. “Yeah. We are. Apparently we’re both irresistible to men who just want to drink our -” 

He cut you off with your name, dipping his head so that he could speak low into your ear. “It is not only your blood that makes you irresistible to me, issa ōños.” 

A shiver passed through your body as that phrase rolled from his tongue, making your heart skip in a way that you knew he could feel. “Oberyn.” 

Straightening up once more, he looked directly into your eyes and released you from his embrace. “You are my light.” He skimmed the tips of his fingers over the skin at the corner of your eye, then dropped them down to the side of your throat. You kept your eyes on his as they flicked down to follow the motion of his touch. “You are the end to the darkness I have known for so long.” You sucked in a sharp breath as he traced his mark, your mouth falling open and his gaze returning to yours. “And that has nothing to do with what runs through your veins.”  

You sighed as he let both arms fall to his sides, your tongue darting out to wet your lips before you slowly nodded. How do I even respond to that? “I know.” 

It was barely a whisper, and it felt inadequate compared to what he had just said to you. But you wanted him to know that you understood how serious he was about you. Even though he just spent three hours in bed with Ellaria, it doesn’t… You swallowed. It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change what he’s feeling or what he wants. 

“Do you?” He asked, his smile poking a dimple into his cheek. “Good.” He took your hand then, gently pulling you away from the front door. You let him lead you towards the couch, but as he did, you realized something. Wait. He hasn’t… “Now come, tell me about your night. What did -” 

“Hold on.” Stopping a few steps from the couch, you tugged his hand so he’d turn back around. There was a question in his eyes, but you didn’t let him ask it, instead reaching for his other hand. Guiding both to your waist, you let yours land on his chest and shoulder. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Oberyn?” 

His fingers curled in the fabric of your shirt, a husky sigh coming from his throat. “Is that what you want?” You hummed, moving your head up and down. “I wasn’t sure, because of what you said before you left.” He tilted his chin downward, eyes glued to your lips. “About how you didn’t know how you’d feel after…” 

“Hey.” You shifted your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face, calling his attention back up to your eyes. “I know. And I still don’t think we should… do anything in bed tonight other than sleep.” You scrunched your nose. “Or I guess, I’ll sleep and you’ll just watch me.” That earned you a small chuckle. “But right now? I feel like I want you to kiss me, Prince - Oh!” 

He didn’t make you wait one second longer, taking the rest of his name right out of your mouth as his lips met yours, parting to take your lower one between them. 

His left hand moved from your waist to the middle of your back, fingers splayed along your spine to urge you closer, while the right came around to cradle the back of your head. You closed your eyes and let out a quiet whimper at the swipe of his tongue along the inside of your bottom lip, immediately granting him what he was asking for. He deepened the kiss with a soft stroke of his tongue along yours, taking you right to the edge of the dizziness you’d mentioned to Nora. 

Nothing about the way that he kissed you gave you any indication that he was still thinking about the things he’d done earlier that night with Ellaria. In fact, every time he kissed you, despite your knowledge of the truth, he made you feel as if yours were the only lips he’d ever kissed. And that’s after only a few weeks. Your knees shook at the thought of how it might feel to be kissed by him after a year or two. Or 10.  

You groaned as you licked into his mouth, the point of your tongue slipping over his teeth and finding that his fangs had descended. He’s not trying to hide them at all anymore. That means… Oh, fuck. You tried to keep the next thought at bay, but your defenses were useless once you felt him nip gently at your lip. 

Imagine what it would be like to kiss him after a few hundred years of it. 

Your heart thumped unevenly and you sighed into the kiss. Stop. Stop it. You needed to rein yourself back in before he noticed how carried away you were letting yourself get. But pulling away from him was difficult, especially when you heard the gravelly sound he made as your tongue slipped over the elongated points of his teeth again. Oh, fuck, Oberyn. It’s not fair.

“If you keep doing that,” he mumbled against your lips. “It will be very hard for me to stop kissing you.” Illustrating his point, he kissed you again, that time surprising you by pulling you down and onto the couch beside him. 

You hummed out a laugh, both of your hands landing on his chest and resting near his collarbone. “Would that be such a bad thing?” 

He wrapped one arm around your shoulders and used the other to drape your legs over his lap. “A bad thing? No.” His thumb swept back and forth over your leg as he said your name. “Very much the opposite. But,” he paused, leaning in to trail his lips across yours and up to the corner of your eye. “I do want to hear about your night.” Straightening up again, he loosened his hold on you. “We will have plenty of time for more of that later, if that is something that you want.” 

Of course it’s something I want. “Fine,” you agreed, pulling your legs back to your side of his body and shifting slightly on the cushion. Oberyn withdrew the arm he had around your shoulders to let you get situated. You bent one knee, leaning it against his thigh, and tucked that foot beneath yourself as you held up one finger. “But I’m gonna hold you to that.” 

Oberyn smiled, and you thought you caught a quick flash of something that almost looked like uncertainty in his eyes. But they were bright and warm again by the time he spoke, his hand coming to rest atop your bent knee. “I hope that you do.” 

You glanced down at where he touched you, letting out a sigh at the way you could feel the warmth of his palm through your jeans. “I’m sure that I will.” Bringing your focus back to his face, you leaned sideways into the couch cushions, ready to regale him with the tale of your night out. “But you want to hear about bar hopping first, right?”

“I do.” He nodded. “How was-”

Wait. Is that…

His question was cut short by the sound of your gasp, your eyes widening at the glint of gold that you saw beneath his shirt with the small movement of his head. His chain. The pendant.  “Oberyn,” you breathed out his name, lifting one hand up to run your fingers over the solid links. “You have it back.” 

Gently, almost reverently, you untucked the chain from under his shirt, exposing the ornate pendant that hung from it. When you lifted your eyes back up to his, it hit you - what it meant to see him wearing it again. It’s how it should be. Though he hadn’t complained once since Ellaria took it from him, you knew that Oberyn hated not being able to feel the sun on his face for any length of time. The brief moments that he’d been permitted to use it while moving between apartments aside, it had been a full week since he had been able to step outside in daylight. You were glad that he had that back again. 

It also meant that you were right about what you saw in his eyes - that he was back to himself, the lingering traces of Ellaria’s more potent blood all but gone from his system. You knew that she wouldn’t have given it back to him yet if that wasn’t the case. Yes, he’d need it for the engagement party the following day, since it started before sunset. But you knew that Ellaria would have waited until the last second if she thought there was even the slightest chance that Oberyn couldn’t be trusted with it. And she didn’t. You swallowed a knot. Because he really is back to himself. 

Seeing that chain around his neck meant that the nightmare that started in the alley, when Oberyn had been poisoned and so gravely injured that every second that followed made you fear his death, was finally, truly over. You didn’t let yourself think about the fact that it also meant that in less than twenty four hours, Oberyn would be face to face with Cersei and Tywin Lannister. This is just about him. Not them. 

“I do,” he responded, reaching for the hand you’d used to free the chain and bringing it up to his lips. They brushed over your knuckles, and then he lowered your hand to press it over the pendant. 

You felt the ridges of the intricate design against your palm, your fingers spreading over the soft fabric of his shirt. “How does it feel?” 

His fingers slipped between yours, curling shut around your hand and the pendant. “Right.” He spoke your name then, smiling around the syllables. “It feels right, having it back.” 

I bet. You bit down on the inside of your cheek before you nodded, giving him  a smile, too. “Good.” He released your hand, letting his own fall back to his lap. You did the same, but kept your eyes on the pendant. The sun was still out when we left, I wonder if… “Did you get to use it?” 

You looked up at him again when he answered. “No. It was already dark when Ellaria returned it to me.” That’s a shame. “But even if it was still light out I would have waited.” 

What? Why? You shook your head, confusion forming a furrow between your eyebrows. “Waited for what, Oberyn?” 

He blinked, long lashes sweeping slowly shut and then opening again to let his eyes rove over your face. “For you.” That caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat at the adoration in his expression as he continued. “Ellaria saved my life, and that is something that I will always be beyond grateful for. But you are the reason that there was anything left for her to save. You are the reason that I will get to feel the sun again.” Using the hand that had been resting on your knee, he tucked the pendant back under his shirt, then reached for your hand. “And I want you to be there when I do.” 

Me. He wanted to wait for me.

You hadn’t realized that a tear had rolled down your cheek until you tasted salt on your lips. “Then I’ll be there.” Your voice warbled slightly, throat thick with the sudden rush of emotion that his response hit you with. “With you, right at sunrise.” 

Another stray tear slid from your eye but Oberyn didn’t let that one reach your lips. Using his knuckle and then thumb, he swiped it from your skin and gave you a smile that turned his eyes to soft leather. “Sunrise sounds perfect.” 

Any time with you sounds perfect, Oberyn. You let out a sigh. “Too bad we have to wait -” Leaning forward, you reached for the phone on the coffee table, tapping the screen so that you could read the time. “- six and a half hours.” 

The warm sound of his chuckle reached your ears as you leaned back into the couch cushions, Oberyn’s arm winding around you to pull you closer. “A handful of hours is nothing.” His lips found a spot near your temple, pressing a kiss there as he continued. “I have waited lifetimes for this. For you.” You sucked in a breath as you straightened up to look at him, the remnants of his laugh still present in his eyes. “I can wait a few more hours.” 

“Oberyn,” you whispered, unable to reply with anything else. You still felt slightly tipsy from the few drinks you’d had earlier, a pleasant buzz humming through your brain and body. But it was nothing compared to the intoxicating feeling of knowing that Oberyn Martell wanted you. Your heart skipped and you knew he heard it from the twitch of his smile. You shook your head, forcing yourself to continue. “You’re one hell of a romantic, you know that?” 

That earned you another laugh, deeper and richer in tone. “Well I have always said that I was a better lover than a fighter.” He brought the hand that was resting near your waist up to curl around your bicep as you rested your head against his shoulder. “And I am an excellent fighter.” 

You hummed out a small laugh of your own. “And so humble, too.” 

Before either of you could say anything else, the phone buzzed on the table and you sat up to grab it. That’s gotta be Nora letting me know she’s home. Opening the message, you confirmed it with a snort to yourself. 

Hot Toban got me home safe and VERY sound if you know what I mean. ;) 

You typed back a quick response, letting her know that yes, you did know what she meant, and that you were glad. You hesitated, thumbs hovering over the keyboard for a few seconds before you added one last line. 

I promise we’ll go out again soon! 

I hope. 

You knew you weren’t completely in the clear yet and that there were still things that could get in the way of you making good on that promise. But you were trying not to dwell on that fact as best you could. Because worrying won’t change anything at this point. There was a solid plan in place. All that was left to do was to enact it. And it’s going to work. You leaned forward to set the phone back on the table. It has to. 

“Everything alright?” Oberyn asked, his eyes on you as you settled into your seat again. 

You nodded, smiling. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Nora was just letting me know that she was home.”. 

His expression warmed at that, eyes lightening. “You two care about each other very much.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “We do. I’m lucky to have her.” That was putting it mildly - your friendship with Nora had made your life better in just about every way. You didn’t grow up with a sister, but you’d found one in her. 

“A friendship like that is a rare thing. I’m sure she feels just as lucky to have you.” Oberyn returned his palm to the top of your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “And I’m glad that she got home safely.” Me too. “Now, will you please tell me about your night?” 

You laughed. “I promise it was a very normal night. But, since you want to hear about it so badly…” 

You took him through the whole night out, telling him about the first place you went to with Tyene and Toban, describing the burger you ordered and the excitement you felt when Toban handed you the phone and told you to invite a friend out. You told him again how good it was to see and catch up with her, about how effortlessly she fell  into conversation with the rest of the group, about her very unsubtle crush on Toban and the rounds of darts that you all played. 

By the end of your retelling, Oberyn was grinning. “It sounds like it was a good time.” 

“It was,” you answered, reaching for the hand that he still had on your leg and lacing your fingers with his. “The only thing that would have made it better is if you were there, too.” 

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Shit. That sounded desperate. But Oberyn didn’t seem to agree. Instead, he leaned in and nuzzled his nose along the side of yours. “Then we will have to make that happen soon.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, pulling away to see the smile his promise put there. 

“I’d love that.” I really would. You sighed, leaning against him as he lifted his arm to let you come closer. For a few seconds it was quiet, and you could hear the sound of water rushing through the pipes, meaning that Tyene was still in the shower. But wait… “Oberyn?” He hummed a response. “Where’s Ellaria?” 

“She is in her bedroom, making some last minute adjustments to what we are wearing tomorrow.” You felt his fingertips slip beneath the hem of your shirt so they could brush over the skin at your waist. “She will be out when she is done. Or when Toban returns, whichever happens first.” 

“Nora doesn’t live too far from here, so he should be back soon.” 

“But I finished first anyway.” You heard Ellaria speak as she entered the room. 

At the sound of her voice you sat up and turned to see her wearing the same dress she’d had on when you left, though her hair had been secured into a long braid. You wondered if she ever looked less than the dictionary definition of elegant, but as she gracefully lowered herself into the chair opposite you, you realized what a ridiculous thought that was. 

“Did you have a good time?” She asked. “Tyene said she had fun but I didn’t get much else out of her because she was hell bent on getting into the shower.” 

You laughed. “She told me how much she was looking forward to it, so that tracks. And to answer your question, I had a great time. I’m glad it was able to happen.” 

You spent the next few minutes recapping the night for Ellaria, Oberyn’s arm still around you the whole time, his fingers continuously sweeping over your skin. It struck you how normal it felt to be sitting there that way with the two of them. 

Though you knew - and accepted - what was going to happen while you and the others were out of the apartment, before you left you weren’t sure how you’d feel when you got back. And that didn’t just include Oberyn - you were unsure about what it would feel like to interact with Ellaria afterwards, too. But… Nothing is different. It was a striking difference from what you’d felt before she’d arrived for the first time, and you were unsure of how to feel about how quickly you’d started to feel comfortable with Oberyn in her presence. I’ll think about that later.

Tyene sauntered in with a towel wrapped around her hair as you finished bringing Ellaria up to speed. “Did you tell them about how we kicked ass at darts?” She perched on the armrest of Ellaria’s chair, one leg crossed over the other at the thigh. “Because we definitely did.” 

“I did! I -” 

But halfway through your response, the atmosphere of the room changed entirely. In a single second it became tense, the same way it did just before Toban and Tyrion had arrived. You took a breath and held it as the three of them exchanged pointed glances, and began to worry the longer they remained silent. What’s happening? 

You heard the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway, and then Ellaria shot to her feet, her eyes locked on the door as though she could see right through it. Is it Toban? You felt Oberyn stiffen beside you and your heart started thumping nervously behind your ribs. Or is it… Are we safe? 

Ellaria crossed the room as the door opened inward, and you finally exhaled when you saw that it was Toban. Oh, thank fuck. The relief, however, was short lived, and judging by the tightness in Oberyn’s jaw, you knew that something was off. And as soon as Toban fully entered the apartment and you got a good look at him, you realized what it was immediately. 

He fought someone. 

He didn’t appear to be injured, but he looked generally disheveled - for him, anyway - his shirt bearing a small rip near one shoulder, dirt rubbed deep into the fabric there, and his hair tousled. What the fuck happened? Who did he fight? Was it Gregor again? 

You stood up, unsure which was racing faster; the beat of your heart, or the questions tumbling over in your brain. 

“Toban.” Ellaria spoke his name while she reached for his arm. Her braid fell over her shoulder as she angled her upper body to get the best view of his face. “Are you alright, my love? What happened?” 

He finished with the locks and turned so that he was looking directly at her. Lifting his hands to take her face between them, he locked his eyes with hers. For a handful of seconds it was as though you, Tyene and Oberyn weren’t even in the room with them. “I am fine.” He nodded once, then leaned down to kiss the top of her head before meeting her eyes again. “I promise.” 

You noticed the small movement of his thumb over her cheek, his touch an instant comfort to her. She visibly relaxed with his reassurance, the tension dissipating from her shoulders. You were struck, not only by the depth of the connection that was shared between Others and their Creators, but at how extremely human it was for Toban to be able to soothe her with such a gentle, innocent touch. It was equally impressive for him to want and need to give her that comfort. They love each other so much. So deeply. 

You swallowed and returned the squeeze that Oberyn had just given your hand. He does, too. Even with his and Toban’s history, he loves him.

Just as you were about to turn to look at the man whose hand you were holding, Toban surprised you completely by stepping away from Ellaria and directing his focus toward you. He spoke your name, placing one large hand on your shoulder. “I want you to know that your friend is safe.” 

Eyes widening, you gave a quick shake of your head. “Nora? Yeah, I - she -” You withdrew your hand from Oberyn’s and used it to gesture toward the coffee table, where the phone still sat. “She texted me, and -” Oh. A sudden weight dropped into your stomach as you connected the dots and realized what Toban was actually telling you. Oh, shit. You let out a burst of air, dizziness buzzing through your brain and goosebumps prickling your skin as you sucked in another breath. Oh my god. Your next words were barely above a whisper, your voice shaking slightly. “There was someone at her apartment.” You swallowed. “The Lannisters, they s-sent someone to her apartment? They-” 

They sent someone there to kill her. 

Your knees buckled then, but Oberyn didn’t let you fall, his arm swimming beneath yours to wind around your waist. “I’ve got you.” He spoke softly, lips close to your ear as you leaned your weight into him, letting him steady you. “You’re alright.” He kept his arm in place, even as you got your legs back under you and Toban continued. 

“They did.” The blond man confirmed your assumption, a chill speeding down your spine. His emerald eyes briefly flicked up to meet Oberyn’s before returning to yours as he said your name, the tone of his voice soothing. “They did, but they did not succeed. Nora is safe, I promise you.” He nodded once. “I made sure of it.” 

That means he killed them. He killed them before they could kill her. You swallowed hard, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you tried not to think about what would have happened had Toban not decided to walk Nora home. Reaching out with one hand, you gripped his forearm and squeezed. “Thank you, Toban. That means everything.” 

His expression softened with your gratitude. “You don’t need to thank me, I would not have let anything happen to her.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek as you took a shuddering breath. “Well I’m thanking you anyway,” you managed, before your throat tightened again. 

Toban simply nodded, patting the hand you had on his arm and giving you a small smile. “Of course.” You dropped your hand when he lifted his, the man shifting his attention again, turning to Tyene. “What about you? Did you run into any trouble on your way back here?” 

Something in the way that he asked made you feel like the attempted attack on Nora wasn’t entirely a surprise. Did they expect something to happen tonight? You glanced up at Oberyn before turning towards Tyene for her answer. 

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “No, nothing. Guess Tyrion was right about them not wanting to send out too many of their fucking goons so close to the big event.” Wait, what? You stiffened, standing straighter and taking some of your weight off of Oberyn. So Tyrion tipped them off that someone might… that something might happen tonight? Why didn’t… Why didn’t Oberyn say anything about that? She rolled her eyes and examined her cuticles. “I wouldn’t have minded, actually. Fewer of them for us to take on later, and-”

“Speaking of Tyrion’s input -” You turned to look at Ellaria as she cut in, the concern on her face still present but fading. “You didn’t bite, did you my love?” 

That question struck you as strange. Why wouldn’t he? That’s the most efficient way for them to fight, isn’t it? There was something you were missing. There had to be. An uneasy feeling swam through your stomach as pieces started falling into place. 

“I did not,” Toban responded, those three words erasing the rest of the worry from Ellaria’s face. He clapped one large palm to Oberyn’s shoulder. “I think Oberyn’s experience with their poison was more than enough for all of us.”

“What?” You startled yourself by asking the question out loud, and then four pairs of eyes were on you as you shook your head. “What are you talking about? Tyrion’s input?” You looked from Ellaria to Tyene, the girl removing the towel from her hair and tossing it onto the couch with a frown. Why isn’t anyone - You looked up at Oberyn, a furrow forming in your forehead at the almost guilty expression he wore. “Oberyn…” You took a breath and let it out shakily. “What’s going on?” 

He took both of your wrists in his hands as he spoke, his eyes looking directly into yours. “I… I did not want you to be worried.” 

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth dropped open in shock. He knew. He knew that someone would be looking for us tonight. And if Tyrion told them not to bite if they were attacked, that means… You were knocked dizzy with your next thought. That means he knew that the Lannisters were using the same poison they gave to Gregor in all of their foot soldiers. It meant that your fun night out was truly anything but that. 

“Didn’t want me to be worried?” With a scoff, you withdrew your hands and crossed your arms. I’m going to be worried until this is all over. “We’re a little bit past that, aren’t we?” You shook your head. “I would have never invited Nora out if I knew she was going to be in danger because of it.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the others leave the room, and as they did, something else hit you. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, letting out a ragged breath. “She already was in danger, wasn’t she?” You blinked rapidly, licking your suddenly arid lips. “That’s why you had me call her to -” Another incredulous breath rushed from your lungs. 

Oberyn spoke your name, his tone laced with apology. You looked up at him and instantly wished you didn’t feel as angry and upset as you did. But I am. He… He should have told me. “We -” He frowned, closing his eyes and correcting himself. “I knew that there was a strong possibility that someone close to you would draw the Lannisters’ attention after you went missing,” he admitted, opening his eyes again. “But nothing was ever going to happen to you or to Nora.” 

You blew air through your lips. “You can’t say that for sure, Oberyn.” Shrugging, you shook your head. “What if Tyrion was wrong, and they sent ten men instead of one?” You cringed. “And I’m not just upset about Nora. Toban and Tyene were in danger, too, and you -” Your throat tightened as anger mixed with hurt and a touch of embarrassment. “You just had me believe that it was all fine, and-” I should have known. I should have known that a night out wasn’t just a night out. Not with everything that’s going on. 

“I am sorry.” 

You knew that those three words coming from him were a rarity. And when you searched his face you saw that they weren’t just words. It was there in his eyes, too. A part of you wanted to forgive him right there on the spot, wrap your arms around his neck and tell him it was fine. No one was hurt, and you knew that he had good intentions. Part of you wanted to just let it go, let him kiss you senseless until sunrise and chalk the deception up to him doing what was necessary to keep you from worrying. 

But it’s not just about what could have happened. It’s about the fact that he kept the truth from me. 

That was where the hurt was coming from. You weren’t one of them. You weren’t immortal, you weren’t powerful. You were, by comparison, painfully human. But you were just as much a part of what was happening as anyone else in the group. You deserved to know what they did, especially when it came to your also-human friend. 

You realized you hadn’t responded to his apology when he spoke your name. Breaking yourself free of your thoughts, you focused on Oberyn as he took a small step towards you. “Please, let me explain why I -” 

You stepped backwards, his frown deepening with the distance. “I will.” You swallowed and shook your head, the corners of your eyes starting to sting. “But I need a minute. I need… I just need to process this, Oberyn. Can you -” You blinked and a tear slipped free, his shoulders falling as he watched it roll down your cheek. “Can you just give me some time?” 

He nodded, eyes still tracing the salty track left behind on your skin. “Of course.” His hands clenched into loose fists and then fell open again at his sides, and you knew that he was resisting the urge to reach for you. You knew because you were doing the same. “Take however long you need.” 

You took an uneven breath and let it out, then returned his nod and forced yourself to turn away, leaving him standing in the living room. 

You felt slightly better after a hot shower. 

A hot shower and a good cry, to be exact. 

Standing under the steamy water, you’d let your emotions flow freely. You let yourself feel the delayed fear of finding out that you and people you cared about had been in real danger. You gave in, just for a few seconds, to thoughts of worst case scenarios - of you or Nora, killed by some Lannister lackey, of Tyene, poisoned like Oberyn, but unable to stave off death because she wasn’t as old or powerful as he was, of Ellaria losing Toban, of Oberyn losing you. You let yourself feel anger and rage towards the Lannisters and Gregor Clegane for creating the entire situation. You let yourself feel the smallness that came from being left out of the loop. 

And only when you felt that you’d emptied the tank did you get out of the shower, find a comfortable pair of sweats to put on, and climb onto the bed. Sitting back against the pillows, you brought your hands up to your face, dragging them down over your mouth. What a fucking night. 

A knock on the door startled you then, your whole upper body pivoting towards the sound. You figured that Oberyn would wait for you to go to him when you were ready to talk. Because that’s what he said. You blew out a long, slow breath, licking your lips before speaking. “I’ll be out in a minute, Oberyn.” 

If the knock hadn’t surprised you, the voice that responded would have - especially with its softness. “It isn’t Oberyn,” Ellaria said, adding your name. “Can I come in?” 

Sucking in a small gasp, you blinked at the door. “Um -” You stood from the bed and took two steps closer, heart thumping in your throat. Ellaria? Why is she… She wants to talk to me? “Yeah, h-hold on.” You let out a slow exhale and closed your eyes, trying to finish pulling yourself together before reaching for the doorknob. They opened as you opened the door, revealing the stunning woman on the other side of it. “Hi,” you muttered with a sniff, stepping aside to let her in and closing the door behind her. “Sorry, I -” 

She shook her head, cocking it to one side. “What are you apologizing for?” 

You let out a small, humorless laugh and gestured at yourself. “For…” 

“I understand why you were upset.” She crossed her arms, nodding. “Honestly, you handled it better than I would have.” Taking three long strides, she crossed to the bed, turning so that she could lean back against the mattress without actually sitting down. “More importantly, though -” She fixed her eyes on yours as she continued. “Oberyn understands.” 

Your mouth dipped in a half-frown. “Did he ask you to-”

She gave you a small smile. “No, I’m not here because he asked me to talk to you. I am here because I wanted us to have a chance to speak… without Oberyn present.” 

You felt your eyes widen at that, your mouth falling open. “Where is he?” You cleared your throat. “Won’t he be able to hear us?” 

“He is upstairs, on the roof.” She tilted her head to one side. “And technically, yes, he can hear us. But he won’t be listening.” 

You recalled what he told you about how he learned to tune things out to give others privacy. And he’d never eavesdrop on Ellaria. Clearing your throat, you nodded. “Okay. Should I sit down? I was… I was just about to go and talk to him before you -” 

“You can sit if you’d like, but what I have to say will only take a minute.” She waited to see if you would move to take a seat, and when you didn’t, she went on. “I know that he made a mistake tonight, not telling you things that you probably should have been told, and asking the rest of us not to tell you, either.” You felt your forehead wrinkle as you drew your brows together, but stayed silent while Ellaria continued. “But I also know that you mean as much to that man as finishing things with Cersei and Tywin does.” 

You sucked in a gasp, floored by what she had just said. “Ellaria, I…” 

“I also know that he has a good reason for everything that he does.” She surprised you again by lifting one side of her mouth in a smirk. “He may not always get things right, but he has his reasons.” 

When you spoke, your voice was thin, still breathless from the idea that you meant as much to him as she said you did. “I’m sure he does.” 

She stood straight then, her smirk spreading into a warm smile. “There are so many people in the world he could have chosen. But I am very glad that he waited for you.” 

Your heart slammed erratically at that. It was the first time that Ellaria had basically stated that Oberyn planned to offer to change you. That he wants to make me his first. 

“I… Ellaria, I’m not sure what to say, I -” You sputtered, mouth suddenly dry. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” She crossed the room, pausing to place her hand on your arm. “Just go listen to what he has to say.” Her fingers tightened briefly on your arm, but after she spent a few seconds letting her gaze wander over your face, she released her grip and left. 

You stood there for a solid ten seconds, one hand over your mouth, uneven breaths fanning out over your fingers. Then, without thinking twice, you grabbed the folded blanket from the foot of the bed, stuffed your feet into your shoes, and made your way out to the elevator. 

There was a slight breeze when you reached the rooftop, the cool air making you shiver as you stepped outside. 

You saw him immediately, Oberyn’s silhouette dark against the skyline as he stood near the railing, looking out over the city. He obviously knew that you were there, but you could see the moment that your presence registered with him, his shoulders lifting slightly. He turned, but even as you crossed the space he was still in shadow when he spoke. “I would not have blamed you if you did not come up here tonight.” 

There was a sadness in his tone and you briefly wondered if he was afraid that he’d gone too far, that you’d want nothing to do with him. Couldn’t be further from the truth, Oberyn. You cleared your throat, wanting your voice to sound certain. “Well, we have a sunrise date, remember?” 

He sighed out your name as you tossed the blanket onto the outdoor couch and came to stand beside him. When you finally got a good look at his face, you frowned. Oh, he looks - “I am truly sorry that I did not tell you everything you needed to know. And I am sorry that your friend was in danger because of me.” He shook his head, turning away from the view to meet your eyes. “I thought that I was protecting you both but I… I was wrong.” 

“I know, Oberyn.” You pressed your side against his and wrapped one arm around his waist, his arm winding around you so that you were both looking out at the lights. You sighed, resting your head against him. “I just… I think I’ve handled the truth pretty well so far. You have to give me credit for that. I can take the truth, even if it’s dangerous.” 

He turned to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured into your hair, the strands still damp. “I know you can.” 

You tightened your hold on him then, your next words coming out just above a whisper. “You should have told me.” 

“You are right, I should have.” He turned to face you, bringing the arm that was around you up so he could cup your cheek. “I would like to explain why I didn’t, even though it was wrong, if that’s alright with you.” 

You nodded, leaning into his palm. “Okay.” 

He swallowed, letting his hand fall from your face to rest at your hip, and you realized that whatever he was about to say wasn’t going to be easy. “I was thinking about Elia.” 

That sucked the air from your lungs. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I was thinking about how when the Lannisters had my sister and her children killed, they did it to get to Ellaria. They did it because they knew that hurting me was a good way to hurt her.” You could hear the vitriol he felt for them even through the sadness in his tone. “ And I know that now they are trying to hurt me, and they know that the best way to do that would be to hurt you.” He sighed. “I know that Nora is like a sister to you.” You felt tears prick your eyes again. She is. “I know she is who you called the first night we were together, when I asked you if anyone needed to know that you wouldn’t be home. And I know that you would have been devastated if anything were to happen to her, just like I was when I lost Elia.” 

You didn’t want to interrupt, so all you did was nod, encouraging him to go on. 

“When I made my choice to become what I am, when I said yes to Ellaria’s offer, my decision was influenced by Elia’s death. With more than two thousand years of this life gone by now, I like to think that I would have made the same choice if my sister had lived.” He heaved an unnecessary breath and shook his head slowly. “But I will never know for sure.” Leaning over, he rested his forehead against yours and spoke your name. “I do not want it to be the same for you.” 

Oh my god. Holy shit. He… 

“When I gave you this…” He lifted his head and brought his hand up to your throat, thumb brushing over the invisible mark on your skin. Your eyes fell closed at his touch, a small breath escaping your lips at the way it felt. “When I gave you my protection, it was not just others of my kind that I promised to protect you from. It was all things that would cause you harm. All things that were within my power to keep from hurting you. And I foolishly thought that if I didn’t tell you about the Lannisters watching Nora, if I just had it taken care of without you knowing, that I was somehow protecting you from feeling that fear.” 

You looked up at him then, silent tears falling freely. “Oberyn…” 

He leaned forward and brushed his lips near the corner of your eye, catching a salty drop before it fell. “I am sorry.” He repeated the same action on your other cheek, kissing away another tear. “I promise it will not happen again.” 

You had no idea how to respond to what he’d said, so instead you simply wound both arms around him and buried your face in his chest. He held you like that for several minutes, until your tears stopped coming, and then, as though he knew that you were overwhelmed by the way he had all but confirmed what Ellaria had hinted at, he simply took your hands and led you over to the couch. 

“It is a good thing you brought that blanket if we are going to stay out here until sunrise.” He pulled you down with him, letting you settle against him before making sure that you were adequately covered. 

“Like I said,” you yawned. “We have a date.” 

He chuckled then, the sound welcome after all the tension of the last hour or so. “If you fall asleep before then I will not take it personally.”

You hummed a small laugh of your own. “Good, because I probably will.” Another yawn broke though. “Just wake me up if I do.” 

“I will.” 

“I bet it’ll feel nice,” you mumbled, exhaustion starting to set in. “Feeling the sun on your skin.” 

“And you in my arms,” he added, his voice like warm velvet. You nestled closer as his biceps flexed around you, and then you felt the press of his plush lips near your hairline, their contact lingering as he spoke. “The last time I felt both of those things, I was unsure that I would survive and terrified that you might not.” He dragged the tip of his nose over your forehead to drop another kiss to your temple. “This time, I know that we both will.” 

You ran your fingertip along the links in the chain around his neck before letting them slip over his skin beneath the collar of his shirt. “We will,” you mumbled. 

You felt yourself slipping under then, but you could have sworn you heard him repeat those two words, and then add a few more. “We will. And then we will have forever.” 

[ender-cloud]

Epic the Musical Vengeance Saga just dropped so heres my thoughts on it!!

Overall thoughts: A lot shorter than I thought it was going to be BUT, THAT MAY BE BECAUSE OF THE ITHICA SAGA HAVING SO MANY LONG SONGS

Wait nevermind, it’s the next day and I just realized how long the Vengeance saga is I think I was just tired and it just seemed like it was fast

Also very Nerve racking, and I literally sat there eyes wide and mouth agape almost the entire time oh my god it was so fucking cool, the animation??? Like huh???

Now onto the songs before I start getting into specifics!

Song 31: Not Sorry for Loving you

I am not a Calypso fan, normally I don’t like her in any adaptation or original version, but, with that said, this is the first song that really made me re think that. (Still hate her though, but I tried to put in two perspectives)

The way that Jorge made it so you can really see how tragic Calypso is and really feel for her, is it definitely not ok that she kept Odysseus trapped against his will: yes, but really being alone for so long it makes sense.

Wangui really out did herself, the way you can tell the voice change from Love in paradise which is more upbeat and energetic, to this sad, distant voice in Not sorry for loving you, showing just how much she doesn’t want to let Odysseus go but knows its for the best, no matter how much it hurts her to

I feel like Calypso admitted that she did something wrong but yet still saying shea not sorry for loving Odysseus makes the song more in character and more realistic for her

On the other side; her words are trying to make Odysseus stay. She thinks if she can make Odysseus feel bad for her by telling her all this he will stay with her, but Odysseus is tired of this, it probably isn’t the first time where Calypso tried to convince him not to leave with her words. Despite being tired of the island, he still has his wits and knows better to fall for it

Saying “I’m not sorry for loving you” is completely getting rid of the “apologies” she said before. All of the things that she said was done out of her “love” so saying she’s not sorry for loving ody is saying to ignore everything she said before “I’m sorry for making YOU feel bad but I’m not sorry for doing it”

I can talk line by line when it cuts to the animatic but its getting late so I’ll just skip to the one that really stuck out to me which was Ody’s “I love you! but not in the way that you want me to…”

At first, it threw me old guard, odysseus, the biggest simp ever, in love with another woman! Impossible! But than the second part really made me think about how close they might have grown in the last 7 years

Even if it wasnt how Calypso wanted it to go and how Ody didn’t always have the best times on that island; Calypso still took care of him and they were each other’s only company for years, they would grow close as friends and it all makes sense put into that perspective

And Calypso hating that she fell in love with ody also makes sense in this perspective, if she didn’t love him the two had the opportunity to become great friends, truly all calypso wanted was company, and she knows that if she had stopped herself she would have had that company in a friend. Maybe the two could’ve gotten along better than they could’ve ever imagined just as friends, and maybe, this departure would be more sad on Odysseus side and less rageful on Calypso’s side.

Also Gigis animatic for it was just ahshajbshshs god, it was so good

Anyway, with all of that said this song can also be seen as emotional manipulation:D depends on how you look at it because it can be seen as Calypso playing the victim to make Odysseus feel bad and stay with her, It was most likely the intention but I tried to give both perspectives on the situation

Song 32: Dangerous

HERMES HAHAHAH OH I LOVE HEREMS SO MUCH!! FAVORITE CHARACTER RIGHT THERE!!

Something I really enjoyed about dangerous is what it brought back from past songs, the wind bag, the 600 men lines coming back but this time without the crew to back it up, instead theres just silence

And then of course Hermes is there too so thats by itself is bringing back Wouldn’t you like.

Troy’s voice is just so intresting to me and scratches my brain in all of the right places

To be honest hearing Troy sing the plan of the part made me let out a sigh of relief because all I could’ve heard until then was the Carl wheezer version and I’ve now been cleansed by Troys amazing voice

The whole Hermes dancing part while Odysseus fought off monsters was definitely a lighter thing to laugh at after Not sorry for loving you, ALSO THE TWERKING??? I CANT JUST NOT TALK ABOUT THAT, so now, the question everyones all been wondering, is Hermes giving the Winions twerking lessons? Because I mean the man flys and got the wind bag so must be relatively close with Aeolus (they match each others energy) and there for the Wininons in relation also they were his backup singers so!!? Twerking lessons

Anyways back to the song; odysseus part is so good, I don’t know what else to say about except for that but I truly do like it I swear!!

The fact that Athena didn’t even seem to cross Odys mind at the end was shocking to me, yes they had their falling out but Athena was the first person he called out to in Love in Paradise

The fact that he thinks he was ignored and pushes aside by her is heart renching, i do hope they have a reconnection in the Ithca saga (Because Athena is not dead, I refuse it Jorge, your video was a Lie, she is not dead, Apollo healed her, she is ok!)

Song 33: Charybdis

I dont have much to say about this one Annalyzing wise so instead I will say that It’s very Catchy and will be stuck in my head for all time.

I love Jorges voice in it chat its so good, It always is but like the Vocals on this one in particular I cant explain it

Also the animation is really cool.

God I dont know why, I knew Get in the water was coming but I really was happy for Odysseus to make it home, I think it’s how he sounded so desperate and so close and I just wanted to give him a hug, the past two somgs kept my mind off of what was to come and it really came to stab me in the back

Song 34: Get in the water

All I can think of is my friend going “Oh no he’s hot!” To poseidon when he arose from the water to start off the song, it was a little bit of light before the storm that was to come

I’ve been meaning to say this for a few of the songs now but Get in the water has such a different feeling and tone than any other song in the musical, normally Jorge brings melodies back but hearing a completely different sound that hadn’t been in the musical earlier almost breaks this invisible rule in place and its nerve racking

It dosent start with the normal boss music but instead its own original thing because this isn’t just a boss, this is the Boss that is the biggest turning point in Odysseus, this time we truly see Odysseus become the monster, a monster that scares not only mortals, but gods and other monsters as well, he will never let anyone defy him again

Poseidon’s threats to raise the tide were so nerve racking, god Steven Rodriguez’s voice is so calm yet so filled with rage at the same time, so steady but so ready to break the dam down, and the way it escalates to where the anger is more ahown but its not quite screaming, not just yet has Posedion reached the peak of his Anger

Odysseus still trying to reason with Poseidon, one of the last times this reasoning part of him will show as he tries to convince Posedion to give up after the 10 years this has been going on for

The reasoning turns into a faint version of ruthlessnesses melody, the melody playing in the background, not only to lead into Poseidons lines from it, but also knowing just how Ruthless both Poseidon and Odysseus are soon to become

Poseidon powering up WAS SO SICK MAN! LIKE OH MY GOD!!! It was absolutely amazing, my mouth dropped when I saw it and it reminded me of circe and her monster yet this isn’t a monster but an extension of poseidon (Who can count as a monster depending on who you ask)

This is where we can see Poseidon reach the peak of his anger where his power is the strongest and his boss move is set in place, the animation, again, absolutely fantastic. The ocean breaking is so satisfying, and yet the entire time I was terrified of it

JORGE STOP BRINGING BACK OPEN ARMS OH MY GOD I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE, I couldn’t tell if they were pulling Odysseus to his death or empowering him, because Polites just put his hand on Odys shoulder, an encouraging powerful gesture. While his mother is dragging him down and down into the sea and Eurylochus is on his arm

It’s the same thing from love in paradise, the memories make him want to die but then he remembers that; they would want him to live on and fight, to not let them die for nothing, and to make it out alive so he could make sure they were all remembered, every 601 of them (or 602 if you count the baby)

But it could have also been that they knew what Odysseus was going to become and wanted him to just rest and let himself go once and for all, Polites looking at him, knowing that Odysseus cant do that, knowing Odysseus would never just leave his wife like that.

Instead of using this new found encouragement and power in his body to reason with Poseidon he becomes a monster to him instead, the monster thats always been within him but just hidden because of him leading with his heart

Song 35: Six Hundred strike

I forgot who the animator was because it’s the next day but it looked so much like a video game and was so impressive, all of the animatics in this one were just absolutely terrifying, with Odysseus red eyes being like him powering up is so interesting to see

Now remember what I said earlier during Dangerous about the crew not backing Odysseus up because they were gone; this song brings them back after Odysseus saw their spirits, like he had remembered and now the voices may not actually be there but in Ody’s head as a form of motivation for the fight

It’s been a while since we’ve heard Odysseus so angry (Because he’s to busy gentle parenting and reasoning with every monster he finds) but now seeing it against poseidon was such a shift and Ody shifted with it.

Just awesome animation and the instrumental in the back is so cool and high stake. “Almost all of whom were slaughtered by your hand!” Sososo good because when it wasn’t Poseidon it his son and the last part of the crew died under Odysseus’s choice but instead of focusing on this he focused on how he only caused 42 deaths (Elpenor i love you but your death was your fault) and how Poseidon caused more that 500 instead.

In that Light it made what Odysseus would do next more reasonable for him, more justified in his mind

The animation turn where all you could see was the red glowing eyes of Odysseus staring at you before he picks up the trident and starts torturing Poseidon.

Old Odysseus after he defeated Poseidon would once again try and reason with him to stop the storm, but this is a new odysseus, a different beast so to say, he no longer cares about the nice way out, Ruthlessness will become far from Merciful if it means he can finally see his family again.

“You didn’t stop when I begged you! Told me to close up my heart!” I am very much obsessed with the lines in this saga they are so good and just so powerful as well in the moments, its an action jammed pack saga because it has to be the entire journey back but it’s done so well.

Hearing an actual god Call odysseus a Monster is different from anything else that might’ve been scared of him before because Gods are all powerful, they don’t have time to fear mortals, But Odysseus is different, more power in just a mortal than they have ever seen before, Odysseus doesn’t have any godly power except for his wit and brute strength to win his battles and thats absolutely terrifying to see how powerful he is with just being a mortal man

“How will you sleep at night?” “Next to my wife.”

GOD, I dont know what to say about this line except for it is absolutely amazing and delivered so well and is just all in all very resinate of what Odysseus’s goal has been since he started this journey

This saga was all in all very cool! It’s not up in my top 3 but its very very close