#i found out when i went to get blood testing before i was supposed to start taking said hormone meds. btw | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fxlling13 · 6 months ago

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505

Dhawan!master x (fem) reader

Synopsis: you and The Master find yourselves growing closer when he agrees to try therapy with The Doctor again. However, Yaz can’t let go of the past.

Warnings: sexual harassment. Harsh words. Death. Yaz is really mean and annoying. Out of character master. Injury and blood. Allusions to smut but no detail.

WC:19.1k

“But I crumble completely when you cry…”

Over an hour, it had been over an hour since The Doctor had taken The Master (kicking and screaming) out of the room with her. It may have seemed impossible at one point but, somehow, you and yaz found yourselves bored. Sitting in the console room of the doctors fluorescent tardis, you were bored.

“Are they not done yet?” Yaz groaned, giving up on scrolling through her phone. Even though it had to be done, the time was dragging. Giving the girl a short shrug, you spoke,

“The Doctor does tend to waffle.” You both laughed.

“True. But it’s cute.” Yaz grinned, causing you to roll your eyes playfully.

“I think you may be a bit biased of your girlfriend.”

“Also true.” She replied proudly, making you scoff half heartedly. Again it went silent, as you both waited for the aliens to return with little patience. Though, you knew what was happening was very important. And something you secretly wanted to work out. After a very scary and dramatic encounter with The Master, seeing him become her, finally seeing what it was he needed, she had formulated a plan. One that, at first, yaz was completely against. She wanted to bring him on board, as a form of therapy. This plan included convincing him to stay on board, allowing her to store his tardis within the depths of his own, taking away all his ‘evil’ tech, and giving him a firm talking to about his behaviour. Plus a lot more that was far too deep to get into. Yaz said that he would reject the idea, teleport right out of there and try to kill them once again. However, to everyone’s surprise, he did not do that. Instead, he sat in his med-bay bed, a deep scowl etched on his features.

———

“I have just one request. If I were to try this silly idea.” He grumbled, making The Doctor stand straight.

“And what’s that?” She enquired. You had Yaz stood at the back of the room, observing the whole conversation. She was apprehensive, nails half bitten off. You just focused on the male mostly, hoping for the best.

“I don’t want it to be like last time. You keeping me cooped up. If I do this, take me with you. Let me be involved and I’ll promise to try. Properly try.” The Master was serious with his words, sincerity in his tone. In front of him, the blonde pursed her lips in thought but eventually exhaled slowly.

“I suppose that’s only fair. Yes. Yes that can happen. As long as you help to make sure Yaz and (y/n) are safe on our outings?” Her eyes narrowed at him, really testing him and trying to push at his buttons.

“I can do that.” He said instantly, turning his head and locking eyes with you. Surprised, you smiled at him softly, hoping it would really reach him.

“Good, well once you’ve recovered we can get started on the process!” The Doctor cheered, clasping her hands together before ushering everyone out.

A few days later, you sat in your room. The tardis was in “night mode”. Something The Doctor had set up a while back to help everyone have a healthy sleeping pattern. Though, all you could think about was how The Master had been left, almost, entirely alone for three days. The Doctor had instructed you both to leave him alone, let him rest and his body heal itself. You imagined that she would be driving the man even more insane, and you wanted to check up on him, for some reason. So, against her word, you snuck down the metallic corridors until you found the med bay. Perhaps he’d be asleep? Or maybe even have escaped by then. Cracking the door open, you peeked in and saw him, sat up in bed holding a worn out book. You took a deep breath before slipping into the room quietly. Did you announce yourself? What did you even say? You had no reason to be there.

“Up late. Aren’t we (y/n)?” He spoke calmly, without even looking up from his book.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked timidly, watching him put the book aside. The Master looked at you, making you feel self conscious in your choice of nightware.

“I always know when it’s you, dear.” Blushing, you pulled at the bottom of your hoodie slightly.

“I didn’t mean to bother you I was just-“

“Curious?” He cut in, gaze fixated on you, as if analysing you.

“Well I was actually going to say worried. I know that being with The Doctor for three days, having her rant at you must be draining. But yeah, you can say I was curious too I suppose.” Replying, you played with your fingers, eyes wandering around the room. It was dimly lit by a few overhead lights, three beds and many cupboards fully stocked with medicine. The Master was taken aback by your honesty, not expecting anyone to worry for him. He cleared his throat to gain your attention once again.

“You can come closer you know, I won’t hurt you.” Taking a few steps forward, you tilted your head.

“Won’t? Or can’t?” You half joked, taking a seat on the chair beside him.

“I won’t. You know I won’t.” He said in all seriousness, giving you a pointed look. Of course, he was correct. In all the run ins you’d had, you’d never been hurt. The first time, he timed things so you wouldn’t get on that trap of a plane. The next he forced you into following him to Gallifrey with The Doctor, keeping you to the side as he imprisoned her. And every time after that, you were always off to the side. Only last time things went a little wrong.

“You’re correct, I fear my ears have begun to shrivel from The Doctors lectures.” His monotone voice made you giggle, knowing that he was of course just joking. Playing along, you looked and nod.

“Looks like it.” He just rolled his eyes playfully and sighed adjusting his pillows.

“What were you reading?”

“Oh, an ancient book from when I was young. I’ve actually read it many times. Close to a hundred.” Carefully, you picked it up and looked at its scratched cover. Galifreyan writing was beautiful but could never be translated.

“I can read it to you one day if you’d like? I imagine I’m going to have a lot of free time now.” The Master suggested nonchalantly, but you couldn’t help but to smile.

“I’d like that.” Putting it down again, you pulled your knees up and hugged them tightly. It was cold in there.

“What kept you up, hm? Surely not just worrying about little old me.” He teased. You scoffed, pulling the grey hood over your head.

“You wish. I just don’t sleep well, I sometimes don’t sleep much at all.”

“That can’t be good for you, you need your energy to run from whatever danger she puts you through.” His brows were knit together closely, taking more notice of your dark circles and low voice.

“Yeah but, I pull through. I just run at the back. Or let The Doctor hold my hand.” Giving a little shrug, you missed the way the males eye twitched.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He muttered, frowning after a moment.

“You’re cold.” His statement made you look to him. Not knowing what else to say, you just stood up.

“I guess I’ll go. Down want to bother you anymore than I already have.” Before you could turn away, The Master reached out and grabbed your wrist. Wincing, you looked back confused.

“You can stay, if you’d like? You’re not bothering me.” Shocked at his honestly, you bobbed your head slowly, allowing the man to guide you and sit you down on the edge of the bed.

“I suppose I already broke The Doctors rule anyway…” pushing up your sleeve, The Master scowled at the long cut that sat unattended.

“She didn’t dress it?”

“Well you did regenerate twice then proceed to get crushed by a giant rock.” You pointed out bluntly, not thinking much of it.

“Yes. But my body can heal itself like magic. Yours cannot.” The Master got up, walking over to the cupboards and grabbing a small bag.

“You’re not supposed to get up.”

“(Y/n) I healed days ago. Now let me wrap that. It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.” Sensing some remorse. You simpered as he sat back with you and took hold of your arm. Wasting no time, he cleaned the wound of dried blood before looking more closely.

“It needs a stitch.” He let out, reaching back for the items needed. You chewed on your lip anxiously, eyes darting to follow his every move. Taking notice, he sat straight.

“It won’t hurt, I promise. See this?” He held up a spray bottle, then shook it slightly before spraying over the cut. Your arm began to feel like jelly. Quickly. He got to work and stitched up the top of the cut, wrapping it securely. You felt nothing.

“I’ll change the bandage for you tomorrow. Take this, it fights off infection.” In his hand sat a small white pill. Deciding to trust him, you took it gratefully.

“Why are you being nice to me? Surely your therapy isn’t working that fast.” He chuckled at your question, settling back into bed.

“No of course it isn’t. But I am trying. For everyone’s sake. The only reason I’m in the med bay is because The Doctor is running around, making sure my tardis and all my belongings are locked away.”

“But..I’d assume your TCE would be in your jacket..no?” You wondered, looking at said coat hung up across the room.

“You’re right. It’s still there. Go see for yourself.” Going over, you routed through his pockets, finding a lot more than just one device.

“You could have killed me by now.”

“But I’m not going to kill you (y/n). You can choose to be wary. I understand.” He almost sounded sad. If he was lying, he was beyond convincing. Your eyes suddenly felt very heavy, along with your limbs becoming tingly.

“Come here, love. You look tired.” The Master beckoned you over with his arms agape. It really did look inviting, and you found yourself going to him almost immediately. Helping you onto the bed, The Master pulled you next to him.

“ ‘was fine a minute ago…” you barely mumbled out, subconsciously shuffling closer to the man for warmth.

“It must have just caught up with you hm?” The realisation dawned on you, where you were.

“Can’t sleep…Doctor will be mad..” feeling a hand land on your head, The Master ran his fingers through your hair tenderly.

“Don’t worry about that. Rest for now.”

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in your own bed. Thoroughly confused, you got yourself dressed and quickly headed into the console room. Stopping dead in your tracks, your eyes met with his once again.

“Ah, (y/n) you’ve never slept in this late before!” The Doctor beamed, bounding over to you.

“As of today The Master will be hanging around, I let yaz know earlier.” You just nod, looking around for her.

“She left in a sulk, didn’t she Doctor?” The Master chortled, leaning back against one of the pillars. Huffing, the blonde shook her head.

“She’ll come round to it soon. I’m going to have a talk with her now actually. Will you be ok (y/n)?” She looked at you dourly, leaving you puzzled

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” You crossed your arms, as she relaxed slightly before heading off.

“She was asking if you’d be okay alone, with me.” The Master let you know, slowly striding over to you. Now understanding, you let out a small ‘oh’ before focusing back on him.

“How did I end up back in my bed?”

“I put you there.” He stated plainly, idly scratching at his stubble.

“You..carried me?” Starting to feel slightly embarrassed, he just smiled.

“Of course. Though I must say, you’re very clingy in your sleep. It took a while to get you to let go of me.” The tone of his voice caused your cheeks to turn red, heat flushing over you.

“God, I’m so sorry.” You were quick to apologise, hands coming up to cover your face.

“For what?” Perplexed, he stood directly in front of you but you didn’t dare to move. Tutting, The Master gently tugged your hands away from your face, holding them.

“For being clingy…even if I was asleep. And I’m sorry you had to carry me when you’re recovering. I’m sorry I went into your room an-“ in a second, he placed his finger to your lips, effectively making you stop.

“Hush.” Though the word was hard, his voice was not and you just nod as he lowered his hand to hold your own again.

“None of that was an inconvenience to me, (y/n). I welcomed your company with open arms. I didn’t mind helping you sleep, or taking you to bed. Not at all. You should relax. I’m here for a long time, I’m sure you’ll get used to it eventually.” You blinked several times, letting what he says sink in. He welcomed your company. He didn’t mind. You knew he could by lying, but he seemed really genuine.

“I’m guessing you sent me to sleep too?”

“I did. For twelve whole hours. Don’t you feel better though?” He smirked, letting go of your hands. It left you feeling cold and you had to stop yourself from complaining.

“I do. Thank you.” You gave a half smile, hugging yourself slightly.

“Did The Doctor confiscate your weapons?”

“Of course she did, though she was happy I hadn’t shrunk anyone. She should feel lucky. All that rambling she did. And I’ve got more to come. Now if she were pocket size…” he trailed off with a thoughtful look and you laughed.

“You wouldn’t, who else would you chase and bully through the universe huh?” This time, he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Very true. I suppose I’ll put up with her for now. I’m actually curious about your outings. I want to experience that.” As he spoke, you took a seat on the steps, hugging your knees close.

“It’s a lot of running you know. Like a lot.”

“Yes I gathered. But don’t worry, I’ll help you keep up.” Even though you didn’t know what he meant, it didn’t sound very malicious.

“Speaking of, is there somewhere you want to go? Or does her girlfriend always get to choose?” It hardly surprised you when the brunette took a seat beside you.

“Yeah I guess Yaz does choose mostly…The Doctor does favour her.” You said, thinking it to be a little funny. But he wasn’t laughing.

“You don’t say. She left you with a gaping wound for almost four days. Stupid woman.” Taking a deep breath, The Master relaxed himself before turning to you.

“So where would you pick?” A million and one ideas ran through your head.

“Maybe, a new planet. With a proper civilisation. I’d love to wonder around an alien city. Just to see how they live day to day. I think it’s a bit boring for The Doctors taste though.” You responded wholeheartedly. The Master watched you talk fondly, admiring the way your eyes seemed to light up at the idea.

“I think it sounds great. I’d definitely take you if I could. I know just the planet.” Your eyes shot to him, lips twitching upward.

“Maybe one day you can?” The look in your eye made The Masters hearts beat at an unusual pace. It was so bright and pure, how could The Doctor not see it?

“If you’d let me, I definitely will.”

“Of course I would! I trust you.” You stated, smiling widely. He swallowed thickly, feeling his chest swell. Was it, emotion? Good, happy emotions? Just then, The Doctor returned with Yaz. The latter of which seemed startled at how close you were to the new addition. She went to speak but The Doctor put her hand up.

“It’s fine Yaz. They’re just talking, it’s a good thing.”

You found that over the next couple of days, he tended to stay close to you. Not that you minded, you really enjoyed his company. It was so refreshing. The way that he would sit up with you in the library, reading and discussing random things. Or eating breakfast together. He even stayed at night sometimes until you fell asleep. Everything you were grateful for, it made you look forward to your next adventure.

———

And that’s how you found yourself, sat with Yaz and waiting for the aliens to return. The last step before he was allowed out. She had to make sure he was weapon free, and discuss his explosive habits. You just wanted him there for the company, getting fed up of being the third wheel.

“She’s really drilling him isn’t she?”

“Probably. It’s all she’s been doing.” You mumbled back, resting your head on a higher step.

“I suppose he deserves it after everything.” To that, you didn’t respond. You knew what she was saying, but at the same time you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d been so kind to you.

“Right gang!” The Doctors loud voice met your ears and you flinched. Looking up, you found that the pair had returned.

“All done. So we can be off.” She went to the console, getting ready to set a course. The Master slipped on his jacket, wandering round until he was stood by you.

“Yaz I overheard you say something about the sea. So I was thinking we could go to this water based planet. It’s filled with hundreds of fish aliens. Every two hundred years they hold a festival. We can go there.” The Doctor rambled, punching in some numbers before pulling some levers. Beside you, the man furrowed his brows, knowing full well which planet she meant.

“Aren’t they hostile to humanoids?” He remembered folding his arms. She just looked at him.

“Not if we behave. Didn’t think that would bother you.”

“I am trying you know.” He rolled his eyes, masking his true thoughts behind her plan. Soon enough, the tardis landed and The Doctor head out with Yaz in hand. You followed behind, coming out to find a busy street, so full it was almost overflowing. She wasn’t wrong, every person looked like some form of fish. One man even had a sharks head. There were decorations hung up, stalls and booths of party materials and gifts. Yaz gleamed, holding the blondes hand and kissing her cheek repeatedly.

“God they’re sickly. How do you put up with it?” The Master shivered, looking away from the women. You shrugged, looking around at all the streamers.

“I got used to it a long time ago.” There was a hint of sadness in your response that The Master didn’t miss. his hand found purchase on your lower back, rubbing it in comfort.

“At least you’re not alone now hm?” For a moment, you stared at him. But he was right, you really didn’t feel alone with him beside you. Slowly, you began to really smile and The Master felt proud.

“Let’s explore shall we, if I walk off I’m sure she’ll follow” He was correct, The Doctor scrambling to follow him as he head off down a street. It was kind of funny to watch as she scolded him within the first five minutes. The Master just stood there letting her rant.

“She has so much patience doesn’t she?” Yaz admired, a subtle glare being sent his way.

“I was thinking the same thing about him.” You admitted, making the girl gape at you. Giving her a shrug you spoke,

“Yaz he’s literally harmless right now. He’s got nothing. I know he’s a master manipulator but he said he’d try. So let’s just assume he’s telling the truth.” Yaz just sighed, choosing to stay quiet. It was clear she wasn’t on the same page but you didn’t mind.

“I won’t walk off again. I swear on both my hearts, just please stop kissing.” The Master argued with The Doctor, leaving her highly embarrassed. Yaz too was blushing now and you just laughed.

“Right. Whatever. Let’s just enjoy the festival ok?” The Doctor said, taking Yaz and starting to walk again. Snickering, The Master glanced over at you and held out his hand. Moving closer, you approached with a small smile.

“Are you sure? I know you’re really trying to fit in but you don’t have to hold my hand.” However, you really wanted him to do so but tried not to seem that way.

“I know I don’t. But I want to. How else will you keep up with us running?” He said in jest, reaching forward and taking your hand in his.

“Plus, if you’re here I can keep you safe.” Your cheeks flushed over, smiling shyly and linking your fingers securely. He chuckled, carefully pulling you along the road.

“How are they breathing?” You asked curiously, realising that the fish were too walking around dry land.

“Think like, turtles and wales. They can survive in both terrains. Like that but more complicated. Some have tanks on their heads. Some have air holes. Some have the ability to adapt.” He explained well, looking over some chrome shaded shells. They were very pretty, different shapes and sizes. Glancing around, The Doctor was nowhere in sight.

“You really expected her to follow her own instructions?” The Master dawdled, moving along to the next stall. Keeping close to him, you just huffed a little.

“Not really, but still. If you weren’t here then I’d have been left on my own remember.” His grip on you tightened, pulling you to his side.

“But I’m here now. And while I am, you’re not going to be on your own. Come on, let’s find her before she has another hissy fit.” He reassured before taking off to look for his fellow time lord. Meanwhile, you felt yourself blushing once again, grinning to yourself like an idiot.

You both looked for over thirty minutes, the girls were nowhere to be found. Also, you noticed some of the locals giving you less than pleasant looks.

“God this is ridiculous. I agreed to her silly little plan and she just vanishes. What is she doing?”

“I don’t think we want to know, Master.” You muttered, earning a surprise laugh from the man. He smiled down at you with a subtle warmth to his features.

“Very true. Let’s find a place to sit hm? I’ll figure something out.” Liking his idea, you followed him to a stall with a few seats outside. He pulled out a chair for you, taking a seat opposite.

“Don’t try any of the drinks. You’ll get sick.” The Master told you, resting his elbows on the table. It was getting busier, the alien sky growing dull. A man, or what you assumed to be a man, walked by with a grimace. A few others were staring over with disgust.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” Your voice was timid, trying to avoid any unwanted attention. He scoured the area, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Like I said, the creatures here do not like humanoids. It baffles me that she still proceeds to bring her companions to places like this.” Realising your discomfort, The Master placed his hand on your arm.

“Hey, just focus on me.” Trying to do as he said, you hummed and kept your eyes on him.

“What if they went back to the tardis?” You thought out loud. The Master pursed his lips ever so slightly.

“Maybe. But what would be the point of that?” For a while, the two of you sat there talking. Mostly it was you listening actually, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his stories, his adventures, even if some were slightly deranged. Even so, you stayed invested the whole time. Furthermore, The Master loved how you engaged with him, asking questions repeatedly until you could understand better. He could hardly remember the last time someone spent so much time with him.

“Why can’t I have the drinks here?”

“Well because, some are made from worms. Some have toxins in them. Some would send you straight to sleep. And others would…” The Master trailed off, like he didn’t even want to finish what he was saying. You knew though.

“It could kill me huh?”

“Yeah. So let’s stay away from them ok?” He urged, his concern making you smile. Giving him a nod, it was almost comical watching him relax. The people around you were very loud. A mixture of high and low voices. Some arguing, some cheering. It was a little overstimulating but something you had grown to know. Scanning around, something caught ahold of The Masters attention. Something that made his eyes narrow darkly.

“I say we just head back to the tardis. The Doctor would rather me be there.” The Master decided, standing up suddenly. Before you could say anything, he helped you up and began walking back from where you had come. He sounded serious.

“Is everything ok? Did I do something?” Worried that you had bored the man, you rushed to keep up with him. He just looked down at you confused.

“No, not at all. I just figured it would be the best thing to do. The festivities are really kicking off and we’ll get caught up in it.” He was half honest, turning back and continuing down the path. The street lights came to life, the locals roaring in joy. All at once, hoards of people gathered in the street and started to follow a parade float down the way. None of them seemed to care for social awareness, shoulders pressed together and screaming at each other. Out of nowhere, a couple came barging into you, sending you tumbling back. When you looked up, The Master was gone from your view. You felt your heart drop and got yourself up quickly. There was no clear route back to the tardis, the way was blocked by the parade. Remaining calm, you swallowed thickly and began to tangle your way through the crowds. It was hot, sticky and you felt as though you could hardly breathe. Before long, a creature spotted you and used his pointed fin to practically smack you out of the way. Your side hit a jagged wall harshly.

“Get away earthling!” A few others laughed before carrying on with their celebrations. Blinking back tears of frustration, you stayed against the wall as you walked, trying to just blend in and get through the crowd.

“Excuse me.” A grainy voice caught your attention at the end of the first street. Just one more to go and you’d find the tardis. To your left was a small shop with an open window. Just outside stood a tall man, face resembling a hairy frogfish. It was grotesque looking too, as though he cared very little for his looks.

“You look worn out, care for a drink?” Turning back to the window, the man produced a glass of pink liquid. Bubbles formed at the stop of the glass, a fizz to it. Remembering The Masters words, you were quick to shake your head.

“No thank you.” Perhaps the creature didn’t know how it could affect you, but something was keeping you on high alert.

“No? You’re too good for my drink? Just because you’re human?” It stepped forward, eyes filled with anger.

“No it could kill me…” you tried to reason but the thing just laughed mockingly, putting the glass down with a thud.

“I must say. For a human, you’re very alluring. Different…” something that resembled a tongue slipped out past its lips. You suddenly felt very cold, moving backwards.

“I bet you’d do so well…” It saw you as a new thing to use and play with. In a second, he was in your face, a webbed hand gripping your face forcefully. The other dragged down your side and groping your hip so hard it hurt.

“So small as well. So frail. I could break you…” the smell of his breath, along with his disgusting words made you feel sick. Your stomach churned. In a moment of desperation, you brought your knee up to hit him right between the legs. The creature groaned in pain, releasing you from his hold. You wasted no time in turning and bolting through the street. Ignoring everyone, you barged through with no other thought in your head, just get away from him. You took a sharp turn into a side street, hunching against the wall and inhaling far too quickly.

Worried wasn’t the correct word. No. Right then, The Master felt concern he didn’t know he could even muster up. Going back to the tardis wasn’t even in his mind anymore. That stupid heard of fish that cut you off were lucky that he had no way to harm them. He just had to find you as soon as possible. But how? The place was packed out, making it hard to move. Even so, he pushed through and shouted out your name repeatedly. The locals were shouting back, trying to push him out but The Master just shoved them back. He really didn’t have time for them. It wasn’t safe for you to be alone. Growing more and more frustrated, he sauntered over to a stall and slammed his hand down on the table.

“Have you seen a young, human, female?” The darkness on his voice put the fish lady on edge. She gawked at him for a moment before nodding.

“Well yes actually. I saw one talking to the lovely man who owns the bar over there.” For once he was grateful the creature was talkative and turned to see the bar. He ran across, looking around everywhere. But you weren’t there, all he saw was a door slamming shut. Deciding to pay no notice, he carried on, coming to a slight dip in the pavement. The relief he felt in his hearts should have worried him, but that didn’t matter when he took a peek down a side street. You were sat against the wall, chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself. He could instantly see a scratch on your cheek and rushed to your side.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped in shock, but quickly settled down upon seeing him crouched beside you. More tears filled your (e/c) eyes, your breathing still erratic. Tentatively he placed his hands on your shoulders, bringing you closer.

“Breathe with me ok?” you nod, doing your best to follow his lead but you couldn’t stop yourself from being scared.

“(Y/n) you need to try-“

“No no he’s going to find me.” You cut in frantically, looking past him to see the end of the alley. The Master tensed up, hearing the fear in your voice.

“Who?”

“The- the man. He offered me a drink and I s-said no like you told me, but he g-got angry. He was touching my s-side and my face and-“ you took in a sharp breath, trying to collect yourself even a little. “-and he said I was..small and alluring. That I’d be good..that he could break me…” as tears spilled down your cheeks, The Master felt his blood boil. He was seething, wanting nothing more than to find that man and rip him in two. The idea of someone touching you almost made him snap.

“I’m going to kill him.” His teeth grit together as he went to stand.

“No please don’t leave me please!” You cried out in a panic, grabbing onto his hand desperately. The Master was grounded almost immediately, ducking back down and pulling you into his embrace. Winding your arms around his neck, you cried into his chest. He let out a breath, rubbing your back in effort to sooth your trembling figure.

“I’m not going anywhere I promise. Let’s get you back to the tardis ok? Get you warm and where I know that disgusting thing can’t get to you.” He spat the last part, easily lifting you and starting the short walk back to the ship. Though you didn’t say anything, you kept a firm hold on the man and he knew you were listening to him. Stepping inside the ship, it was vacant, which he was glad to see. Whatever The Doctor and Yaz were doing, wasn’t his priority. You were. He took you through the ship to a room you didn’t recognise. A bedroom. Reluctantly, The Master placed you down on the bed and took a step back. Seeing your exhausted face left a bitter taste in his mouth and he hated it.

“Is this your room?” You asked, looking around the dark room and taking it in. The sheets were soft, black plaid, the bed frame made of mahogany. Around the space there were matching drawers and a desk that had piles of books. On the back wall was a lit fireplace, giving the room a subtle glow. It was also quite neat.

“Yes. The Doctor let me have a say in it. Do you like it?” The Master knew you did, he could always read you so well. Nevertheless, you nod a bit, rubbing your face harshly.

“It’s cosy.” Disliking how down you sounded, he moving to quickly find you some fresh clothes. A pair of plush pyjamas were provided to him by the security ship. Leaving you to get changed, he made his way to the kitchen getting a glass of water and something small for you to eat. It didn’t take long and once he returned, he saw you sat back against the pillows.

“I brought you these.” Gazing up, you watched as he set the items on the table beside you gratefully.

“Thank you.” You sipped on the water, soothing your dry throat. After hanging his jacket up, The Master took his place next to you on the bed. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, nibbling on one of the biscuits he’d brought you.

“Thank you for finding me..and for carrying me. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologise. I couldn’t just leave you.” The softness of his voice was nice, making you feel less like a nuisance.

“Is The Doctor still not here?” Placing the empty glass down, you looked at him to see his head shaking. You just wanted her to fly far away from there, but of course she was always preoccupied.

“I wanna leave.” You whispered, feeling ashamed for how much that short interaction had affected you. Lifting his hand, The Master wiped your cheeks dry tenderly.

“I know you do sweet girl, I’ll make sure we do as soon as she’s back.” That somewhat settled your anxiety, tiredness creeping in slowly. Almost shamefully, you looked at him longingly, wanting to feel that safety once again. It would be so needy, so pathetic. More to the point, why would he do something like that? Perhaps there was a chance, yet you felt as though it would make you seem even weaker. Did that really matter?

“Can I-“

“You don’t have to ask love.” Without question, The Master slipped an arm around you, bringing you to lay flush to his side. The way your whole body eased up was instant, head resting against his chest easily. You allowed your eyes to close, curling into the man the second he allowed it. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms, The Master knew he was already too far gone.

———

In a fit of laughter, The Doctor and Yaz returned to the tardis hours later. They were arm in arm, brightly coloured leis around their necks. The younger even had a funny looking hat sat on her head. Not expecting it, they were surprised to find The Master sat on the stairs. His hands were clasped together firmly, anger still apparent in his eyes. But The Doctor knew something was wrong.

“What happened?”

“After you two ran off? Nothing at first. Then there was an incident but it’s fine. We just need to leave here right now.” even though he sounded urgent, the girls were apprehensive. Yaz folded her arms.

“And why is that? We had fun out there.” It took everything inside of him for The Master to not lash out. Instead, he looked at her slowly before standing.

“Yes. You two had so much fun. You’ve been gone for six hours. You both just left. I said I would agree to your rules, Doctor. Yet you’re the one being careless?” He scoffed, coming to stand in front of them. She knew it was true and hung her head in shame.

“Fly away. Now.” For once, The Doctor actually listened to him and sent the ship away into orbit. Even though he had left you sound asleep, The Master yearned to rush right back.

“What happened? Why are you so worked up?” Yaz was obviously confused, leaning back against the console. Only then did The Doctor realise something, her eyes shooting around.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

“Asleep. She’s asleep, let her rest.” He replied sternly.

“What happened to her?” The Doctor asked impatiently, now completely alert. Yet all the man did was glare.

“So now you care huh? You left her alone with me, when I’m supposed to be here to learn from you. You’re lucky I li-“ stopping himself from saying too much, The Master took in a deep breath and cracked his neck.

“One of the locals didn’t act too kindly towards her, let’s just say that. But I brought her back here. She’s not hurt. She’s fine now.” The Doctor let out a sigh of relief hearing this, putting her hands together almost in a prayer.

“Thank you.”

“Yes well, I said I’d follow your rules and regulations..” brushing it off, The Master just shrugged. Seeing right through this, the blonde gave a shallow smile.

“You’d have done that regardless.” She pointed out, lifting herself to sit on the console. Yaz, still confused, looked between the pair. Accepting defeat, The Master groaned and let his head hit the pillar behind him.

“Only for her. Not so sure about your little pet.” This comment set Yaz off, he could sense her outburst coming a mile away.

“I’m her girlfriend!”

“My condolences.” The Master said to her sadly, leaving the girl practically steaming. Before she could retaliate, The Doctor took hold of her hand.

“Ok, relax everyone. What’s important is that everyone is okay. I admit, I was careless today and in future I won’t do that.” The pair made eye contact, he could see the remorse there and decided to let it go for now. Moving away from the pillar, the master moved towards the steps again.

“I’m heading back to my room, don’t be up all night kids.” For the first time, something he said made Yaz laugh. Simpering, The Doctor nod.

“Look after her.”

“You know I will.” With his signature grin, The Master left to his room once more. You were still asleep thankfully, making it easy for him to slip in beside you. Instinctively, you shuffled closer and wrapped yourself around the timelord. He reciprocated this, holding you close and closing his eyes too.

———

Waking up in his arms the first time was an experience. Shocking you so much that you fell out of his bed. You were also so apologetic, saying sorry so much that The Master told you he was going to remove the word from your memory. Eventually, you came to realise that he really didn’t seem to mind. So, you began to let yourself indulge in that. Seeing how much you could get away with. It started small, with continuing to hold his hand when you went out on your adventures. The Master was easily ticked off, getting irked over the tiniest thing. Especially people with bad manners and attitude. Once, whilst he was telling you about the time he blew up an ancient sun god, you cut in with a very dry, sarcastic comment. “Wow, you actually do have plans that work out then?” You said, smiling mischievously. Thinking it would get you shouted at, you blushed when the man just gave you a firm look. Anyone else, he would have put them in there place. But not you. Then you began to spend even more time with him on the tardis. He even read you that book that he mentioned. You were so happy and it was obvious to everyone around you. Especially The Doctor. At first, it made her anxious. She thought that he had manipulated you, maybe even hypnotised you into being his loyal, little human. That was until she caught sight of the two of you in the library.

“So to chart the stars in a more..easy way you can-“

“Are you saying I’m dumb?” You pouted, not letting him finish. Sitting snug to his side, your legs were over his lap. The Master was wearing his round glasses, one hand on your thigh, the other holding a small sky chart.

“No, I’m just saying you have to learn. It’s a very precise job. In your time even your top astrophysicists can only do the bare minimum. I’m going to teach you properly.” He chuckled before continuing with his demonstration, your focus fully on him. From the door, The Doctor felt hope in her hearts, seeing her childhood friend seem so at peace. She knew she could trust him to look after you.

———

“See you both on Friday!” The Doctor gave Yaz a hug and kiss, before waving you off as well. You looked around for a second before saying goodbye and heading out with Yaz. Every so often you’d both return home for a week, to see family and such. You didn’t really want to go but you did regardless. The Doctor flicked a few levers before walking into The Masters room. He was sat at his desk, papers surrounding him as he inked up a journal.

“I see you still have that unnecessarily neat handwriting then?”

“You say unnecessary. I say, precise. Unlike you I can re-read my notes without having to squint.” He shot back, not looking up from his work. She just hummed, coming to lean on the wall by the desk.

“You didn’t say goodbye.” The Doctor pointed out, noticing the way he paused for a second.

“Well they’ll be back so, there was no need.”

“I think (y/n) wanted to say bye to you though.” He didn’t say anything, just continued to write down whatever it was that had his attention. Sticking out her bottom lip in thought, the doc sighed a little.

“She looked for you.” That made him stop. Sitting straight, he looked up at her with an unreadable expression.

“She did?” He asked, putting his quill down on its cushion. Nodding, she pushed some things aside and perched on the edge of his desk.

“I notice that you’ve become quite close.” Again he remained silent, just looking at her blankly.

“It’s good. It’s good to see you have a real friend.”

“We’re not friends.” He scoffed, dismissing the idea poorly.

“Yes you are, but you want it to be more.” The Doctor called him out, earning a look of surprise from the man.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The Master uttered, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair.

“Yes you do. You know it’s okay to feel that way right?” Letting out a huff of irritation, he just shook his head and retorted.

“I don’t feel any sort of way, Doctor. I’m here to ‘learn’ from you. To follow you around and stick to your silly plan whilst you try and fix me.” It almost amused her, how much denial he was in. But after thousands of years, she knew him all too well.

“Last time I checked, my suggestions didn’t involve reading stories and studying. Or cuddling in the library. It definitely didn’t involve sleeping in the same bed.” That effectively left him speechless, casting his eyes down to the desk bitterly.

“So you can sit here and say you’re just doing all that because of me. Or because it’s some ploy to get out of here faster. But we both know that’s a lie.” The Doctor concluded, drumming her fingers against the surface below her. Closing his eyes, The Master inhaled before returning to look at her.

“Fine, you got me. I didn’t think it would ever turn out like this. Makes me feel strange.”

“You mean happy?” The Doctor laughed, watching her old friend falter slightly.

“I suppose. It’s nice to have someone there, someone who really wants to spend time with me. She’s the first person in a long time to do that of her own free will.” He admitted, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. It was the sad truth.

“That’s good.”

“No it isn’t. I’ll just end up hurting her.” He spat, clenching his fists as that doubt crept over him. The Doctor simply shook her head.

“No you won’t. These past few months you’ve done everything you can to make her happy, to keep her safe. You never let her out of your sight.” It was true, he knew that. Though, deep down he felt that fear, like it just wasn’t enough.

“I know. But still, what if it’s not enough?”

“Don’t think that way. (Y/n) is really attached to you, and you have the biggest soft spot for her. If you’re both happy, then that’s all that matters.” The Doctor told him earnestly, placing a hand on his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shove her off. But could he allow himself to have this?

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.” He half laughed, getting up and walking across to his bed before sitting on it. Grinning, The Doctor stole his office chair, wheeling it over to the bed and sitting in front of him.

“No it’s fun, exploring your inner emotions and your love life.” Her giddiness made him cringe.

“Ok. Never call it that again.” He grimaced, making The Doctor cackle even more.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for teddy bears.” Now just confused, he looked around until he spotted the fluffy bear sat on his pillow. Rolling his eyes, he reached over and picked it up.

“(Y/n) brought it in here last night. She must have left it by accident…” he snickered, looking at the toy fondly before continuing.

“You know she has clothes for it? Like a whole wardrobe, just for the bear.” The Doctor watched him, lips upturned. Guilt began to creep up on him, for being so wrapped up in his own mind.

“I should have said goodbye…”

“Yeah. But it’s okay, she’ll be back in a few days.” The Doctor reassured him. He never wanted time to pass faster.

———

Friday rolled around, The Doctor had parked the tardis in its usual spot and left the doors unlocked. She busied herself around the console, tinkering with a few loose wires.

“Can you pass me a clamp?” Holding her hand out, The Master moved around and gave it to her. She knew he was getting impatient.

“I can hear your brain ticking from here. Relax a bit.”

“Why is it taking so long?” The Mastee grumbled, staring at the doors.

“They’ll be here s-“ just then, Yaz burst through the doors.

“I’m back!” She yelled enthusiastically, running over hugging the blonde woman from behind. Laughing, The Doctor turned and hugged her back, listening to the events of the past few days. With a roll of his eyes, The Master sighed and leant against the console bored. Now he knew how you must have felt all that time.

“God if you two continue to smack your lips together I’ll throttle you both.” He threatened, rubbing his temples.

“Awe do you feel left out?” Yaz joked, hanging from her girlfriend’s arm.

“From you two? Absolutely not. How revolting.” Both girls laughed at his disgust, moving away from each other.

“Go snog in your room, just not in front of me.”

“Can I trust you to fix that circuit?” The doc picked up Yaz’s bag from the floor, looking at the man across the room.

“Obviously. I’ll do a better job and you know it.” He deadpanned, earning an angry look in response. However Yaz was quick to pull her away and leave him to finish her work.

———

You were only slightly late, well almost an hour. But your bus to Sheffield had been delayed so there was nothing you could have done. Thankfully, you found the tardis where it always was and head straight for the doors. Inside, you were met with a soft clinking sound. After walking forwards quietly, you came to see The Master hunched over the console, linking up two wires with clear skill. You’d never seen him working like that before, it was interesting. He was so engrossed in his task, sleeves rolled up and brows furrowed. Taking a piece of metal, he used a small machine to solder it in place and close up the circuit. Wiping off his hands, The Master stood straight and his eyes met yours. You broke out into a smile, rushing over and throwing your arms around his neck. Taken aback, The Master stood frozen for a moment, not expecting that at all.

“How long have you been there?” He pondered, coming to secure his arms around your middle. You hugged the man closely, letting out a small laugh.

“Not long, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” He sighed, wondering how he’d get you past the point of caring about that. Still, you stood in his arms content, speaking again once a few seconds had passed.

“I missed you…” hearing this, The Master felt the beats in his chest working overtime. He tightened his grip on you, not knowing how to respond to that. Though, he felt exactly the same way.

“I missed you too.” Even though he said it quietly, you heard, looking up and smiling happily.

“You’re blushing.”

“I don’t blush.” He scoffed, avoiding eye contact and suddenly feeling very warm.

“I dunno, your hearts are beating very fast.” You placed your hand against his chest, proving your point further. Although he loved your rare confidence, he couldn’t let you get away with too much. Taking hold of your hand, The Master easily manoeuvred you away from him.

“Oh, are they?” He tilted his head, stepping closer and closer until you were pinned between him and the console. Dipping to your level, he leaned in, his cool breath hitting your face. Your eyes were locked together, heat creeping up onto your cheeks. Shamefully, your eyes flickered to his lips before looking back up. He noticed, a smirk appearing.

“You’re blushing.” He teased, letting go of your hand and placing his own on your waist. You couldn’t speak, your words coming out in a jumble, and that pleased him. He loved to see the effect he had on you, it was thrilling. Noticing the hopeful look on your face, he placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. Stepping away he tucked his hands away into his pockets with a proud smile. You stood frozen, hands gripping the edge of the console. Footsteps could be heard approaching, The Master giving you a smug smile before moving to the other side of the console.

“Ah hello (y/n)…are you okay? You look a bit flustered.” The Doctor pressed her hand to your head in deep concern.

“I’m fine, just warm in here…” you lied, giving her a half smile and trying to collect yourself. Both girls were unconvinced, but you just tried to seem relaxed. Shaking her head, The Doctor walked around punching some coordinates into the console.

“So me and Yaz will be off now.” Snapping out of your daze, you followed her movements confused. Noticing this, she let out a noise of annoyance.

“Did you not tell her? I said to tell her when she came in!” Exasperated, the doc scowled at The Master, though she really should have expected it.

“Must have slipped my mind, I was distracted.” He lied, giving you a wink that went unnoticed by the others.

“Anyway. I’m taking Yaz to a spa for the day, after our last attempt failed. Is that okay with you?” The Doctor was going regardless, but a verbal confirmation would make her feel better.

“Yeah of course. Go enjoy your date.” Before they left, The Doctor gave her usual speech about making sure The Master behaved himself.

“You have my word Doctor. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.” Holding his hands up, she felt secure enough with his answer and guided Yaz out of the ship. Now alone with him once again, you grew jittery. You were so close just moments ago, so close. You knew how you felt for him long ago, but over the months it had grown tenfold. A part of you also longed to go out into the universe with him. Just like Yaz got to experience with The Doctor. Sadly, wondered if what he did before was merely for his own entertainment. With your head telling you it was a game, and your heart saying he really cared, which could you trust?

“What are you thinking about, love?” The Master slowly made his way back round to you, stoping a few inches away.

“I just, wish we could go somewhere fun.” Being somewhat truthful, you lifted your shoulders slightly.

“Well, why can’t we?” This response took you by surprise.

“Because your tardis is locked away somewhere.”

“Who said anything about using my tardis?” He chuckled, brushing some hair out of your face whilst you tried hard not to blush.

“She really shouldn’t have left me to fix her console. It’s very easy to remove a DNA lock.” Giving your nose a little boop, you laughed quietly at his cockiness.

“So, what do you say?”

“What if The Doctor finds out?” You pointed out, so close to giving into the temptation he was offering.

“Come on dear, you know I’m better than that. She’ll never know.” Not even needing to hear that, it convinced you even more and you nod quickly. The Master grinned wickedly, spinning on his heel and beginning to expertly pilot the tardis. You watched excitedly, noticing how steady the ship was whilst in flight. Although great, The Doctor did have a hard time keeping in control.

“Where are we going?” Going to his side, he simply smiled down at you before the ship settled once again.

“Take a look.” He nod towards the door, your chest fluttering with anticipation. It was like doing this for the first time all over again. Pulling on the double doors, your eyes went wide at the scene in front of you. The first thing that caught your attention were the purple bricks that outlined a mechanical road. Tall, grey creatures were walking along, with black robes and oblong heads, their hooved feet carried them into several buildings in the area. Speaking of, the area was filled with hundreds of brightly colour skyscrapers, a mixture of slates, teal and sapphire shades. More to the point, there was actual flying cars, something you thought you’d never get to see. They moved in conjunction, keeping your attention for longer than necessary, watching how they’d ascend and descend whenever needed. Slowly, you let go of the door and stepped out into the new world. It was warm as well, not a cloud to be seen in the mauve sky. From behind, The Master followed you, making sure he locked the door. He didn’t want any trace of what he was doing for The Doctor to find, and a stolen tardis would definitely be a sign. The look of pure joy on your face made his hearts feel complete, as he came to stand beside you.

“Do you like it?” In all honestly, it was perfect, exactly what you’d always wanted to see. Instead of giving a verbal response, you rotated and hugged The Master. He beamed, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground with ease.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s amazing!” You told him, kicking your legs up behind you just before he could set you down. He pulled away, leaving his hands on your waist.

“I told you I knew the place.” You had a twinkle in your eye, realising he remembered that conversation. Taking your hand, The Master began to walk down the road until you stopped him.

“Are we safe?” It felt safe, everything felt very normal, though you’d had one too many incidents before.

“You think I’d take you somewhere that wasn’t safe? I’m not The Doctor.” He almost seemed offended, making you squeeze his hand tighter.

“I picked a date and time I’m a thousand percent sure nothing will happen. I triple checked.” This revelation nearly caused heart palpitations, she had never done that before. Tucking yourself into his side, The Master felt just how grateful you were and wrapped his arm around you. With another kiss left on the crown of your head, the two of you walked along the street as the steel cars soared overhead.

———

You genuinely couldn’t remember a time you felt happier. Even after a hundred trips with The Doctor, this one topped them all. The Master was taking you to every single place that caught your eye, peaked his interest or knew that you’d love.

“Oh there’s something else, over here.” Fingers laced together, The Master tugged you over to a smaller building with a metal veranda. He spoke to the towering alien, handing over a few small credits before receiving a cone in return. You both stood in the shade, keeping out of the way as to not bother anyone.

“What is it?” Looking into the cone, you saw little, dusted spheres. They did look intriguing.

“Sort of like a truffle. But with ice cream in the middle.” Using the spiked fork, he held one up to your lips, allowing you to eat one easily. It had a different taste to the ones from earth, sweeter and softer in texture too. It was evident that you were enjoying them, letting The Master feed you some more. On the other hand, he felt as though he was in a trance. You were just eating. You weren’t doing anything special or extraordinary. Yet he just couldn’t help himself. Lifting his hand, The Master swiped his thumb under your bottom lip, removing a dot of cream. Freezing, you blushed and gazed up at him with big eyes, which certainly wasn’t helping his conundrum. His hand lingered there for longer than neeeded, brown eyes wandering over your face shamelessly. He cleared his throat and tossed the his empty cone into the bin near the shop.

“Come on, I have one more thing to show you.” The Master sounded different than normal, more mellow if that made any sense. Still, you went with him blindly, walking through the quiet streets and admiring the architecture.

It didn’t take long for The Master to find what he was looking for and, after a brief walk, you gasped at the sight in front of you. Just below a pier, there was a glistening lake overshadowed by ancient trees. They grew ebony leaves, with white bark that looked so vibrant. Letting go of his hand, you rushed over to the stone balustrade, leaning over to see the pearlescent water better. It reflected of the sky, giving the surface a lilac glow. Amused by your fervour, The Master approached you with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Stunning, isn’t it? The bottom of the lake is lined with diamonds, they run below the surface of this entire planet. It’s how they got their fortune.” He explained, resting his arms on the stone wall and looking out at the view. And it was a good one, the landscape could occupy your mind for a while. But something else had it for now.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for showing me this. Thank you for the whole day. I won’t forget it…” there was a twinge of sadness in your thanks, thinking it would be the first and last trip of its kind. The Master didn’t look at you, a tension in his brow. He was never good at comforting, or being completely honest. Around you, however, that side of him did tend to show itself more.

“I know The Doctor takes me to amazing places, and I’m so thankful but, it’s not like this. She’s spontaneous in the best way, and so lovely but-“ you frowned, unsure of how to finish what you were saying. To be honest, there was so much you felt you couldn’t say as it would ruin the day. Silence settled between you both, nothing but the ripples in the lake, and distant alien chattering could be heard. You were deep in thought, that much was clear, but he would never invade your privacy to find out what it was about. A question weighed heavy on his mind, one that he’d been mulling over for a long time.

“Would you come with me?” There was an unmissable tremor in his voice, breaking the silence and your train of thought. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him, finding that he was still unmoved.

“One day, if I pass The Doctors stupid test and she thinks I’m ’good enough’, will you travel with me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, your mind had been made a long time ago. The Master had his eyes on you in an instant.

“I’d love to go with you.” You smiled, telling him everything he needed to know. You weren’t lying, there was no malice anywhere. No more needed to be said. Instead, he moved closer, hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“You really mean it?” His guard was completely down, letting his forehead rest against your own as he asked.

“Of course I do, I want more times like this. More of you…” You concluded in a whisper, as The Master trailed his left hand down the side of your neck. The corner of his lip twitched upwards, the confidence you knew all too well finally returning.

“You have me.” With that bold statement, he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours, capturing you in a sweet kiss. A raging blush claimed your cheeks, moving your arms around his neck and drawing him in closer. It was as if the last piece of a puzzle was fitting together. Reluctantly, he pulled back, taking in your flushed appearance with pride.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been, keeping myself off of you?” The Master laughed at his own internal battle, thumbing your waist gently.

“Why did you? You could have kissed me earlier.” Your heart was hammering in your chest, liking that you’d both been feeling exactly the same.

“When I knew The Doctor could interrupt at any moment? No, I didn’t want her ruining anything.” Your fingers toyed with the hair at the base of his neck as he spoke, sending a small shiver down his spine.

“When did you become so considerate?”

“For you? A long time ago, love.” The Master pressed your back to the wall you were both once leaning against, his nose bumping against yours.

“Did you not realise, how I’ve been treating you? Did you never notice how conveniently safe you were when I was there? Don’t you understand, you’re the only reason I agreed to The Doctors mindless plan?” Your breath hitched at this admission, taking everything in.

“I knew you kept me in the clear but…you stayed, because of me?”

“Of course I did. Spending time with you is worth The Doctors incessant rambling. It was the only way I knew I could be with you, without anyone noticing.” The Master was so close, his lips brushing yours with every word he said. Once more, you blushed brightly, loving the flattery he was supplying.

“Honestly? I would have jumped at the chance..I’m glad you did stay.”

“And I’m glad you were bold enough to check on me, were you so worried?” Cocking his head to the side, The Master traced over your lips, and down until he was gripping your jaw with intent.

“Of course I was, I thought you were going to die. I hated seeing what you did to yourself.” It was hard to talk about that day, everyone was hurt, especially him. Seeing him laying there, under that rock, you thought you’d lost him before you even had a chance. A stray tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it, however the man just left a kiss in its wake.

“Don’t cry pet, I’m fine, I’m still here.” You couldn’t help yourself anymore, pulling him down until your lips met again. The kiss was deeper this time, an outpouring of emotions that had been hidden for too long. His tongue pressed against yours, dragging out a guttural wine. The Master revealed in the sound, caressing the curve of your waist and dragging his hand lower. You were grateful for the lack of people in the area. Your hands moved to grip his arms and your lungs began to burn but you didn’t care. Parting from your lips, The Master left a trail of kisses along your jaw lovingly, then he moved back a bit.

“Have I mentioned how cute you look, so flustered?” He smirked, pecking your lips once more then finally letting go. You just avoided his eyes, finding the ground far more interesting.

“The Doctor might kill you if she finds out you know?” He just rolled his eyes when you said that, grasping your hand once again.

“Well she doesn’t have to know quite yet, does she?” Giving you a playful look, The master made sure you stayed by him as you both began walking again.

“You’re lucky I’m a good liar. She really wouldn’t approve.”

“Oh but I thought you wanted me to stay as long as possible?” He feigned sadness, causing you to giggle at his big eyes. You wrapped your arms around his middle whilst approaching the tardis, he made no complaints. Apart from the fact that neither of you actually wanted to go back, that is.

———

The Doctor and Yaz reappeared around five hours after The Master had got you both back. You were impressed with how precise he was, but why were you surprised? When they came in, neither of you were actually in the console room.

“What do you think they did all day?” Yaz asked, following The Doctor around as she piloted.

“I’d imagine reading or something?” The blonde shrugged, not paying it much thought.

“You don’t think he’d try to escape? Or what if he hurt (y/n)?” She exclaimed, earning a snort of laughter from her partner.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Why? After everything he’s done! He’s a monster.” Yaz came to stand directly in front The Doctor, clearly anxious. Sighing, The Doctor rubbed her arms.

“People change. Give him a chance.”

“I don’t know how you can say that when…” Yaz carried on with herself, listing multiple reasons of why she hated the man, and why he wasn’t worth the effort. Up the first flight of steps, The Master stood around the corner, listening to it all. A continuous reminder of his past and all the wrong he’d done.

“Don’t listen to her.” Your voice startled him, you hadn’t been there earlier. Instead of replying, he kept his ear towards the women talking. He wasn’t one to be offended by these things. No, he was more concerned about how you saw him. The Doctor could be very convincing, maybe even Yaz could get into your head. Suddenly, you stepped forward and tilted his head back to look at you. Knowing he was going to speak, you leant up and kissed him softly, keeping him quiet. Taken by surprise, The Master shamefully melted into you, holding your shoulders for support.

“Don’t listen.” You repeated once you pulled back, giving him a smile then walking down the steps.

“(Y/n), have a good day?” The Doctor grinned once she saw you. Giving a small shrug, you lied,

“It was okay.” Even though it was the best day you’d had in years. Frowning, Yaz went closer to you.

“But are you okay?” It was as if she was checking over you.

“And why would I not be okay?”

“Being alone with him?” She said like it was common sense. Giving her a slight glare, you nod.

“I’m fine, Yaz.” Your response was sharp, making the girl huff and look to The Doctor. She just pressed her lips together, unsure how she’d get her girlfriend to relax a bit. But she knew it was something that desperately needed work, especially if she wanted this attempt of therapy to work.

———

Their dates became more and more regular, which was fine by you. The more they were gone, the more you got to do with The Master. Each trip got more thrilling than the last. From seeing supernovas to ancient earth, you were counting the days until you could leave with him. Meanwhile, Yaz was just happy to be away from The Master. Her mind couldn’t be changed, she just couldn’t trust him.

———

One day, as Yaz sat at a candle lit dinner with The Doctor, she put down her menu and looked at her. Sensing some unwarranted anxiety, The Doctor looked back at her confused.

“When is he going to leave?”

“Why would he leave, I haven’t finished with my sessions yet?” Confused, the doc poured herself a glass of water.

“Because, I think he’s hypnotised (y/n).” Her statement made The Doctor freeze up a little. She knew that Yaz noticed your closeness to the man.

“Yaz, I think they just get along well. I’d be able to tell if he was using hypnosis.” The Doctor tried to put her mind at rest, but it was fruitless.

“There’s no way she’d choose to be close with him after all he did to us. To you!” It was annoying Yaz, how rejected her lover was being about the whole situation.

“As I said, people can change. He’s made good process you know? He really is trying, try to consider that they’re friends?” With that suggestion, The Doctor picked up her glass and took a sip of her water.

“Friends? I wouldn’t be surprised if they were getting it on back in the tardis.” Yaz scoffed, The Doctor almost choking on her drink. Coughing it down, she looked over at Yaz baffled.

“Okay, I don’t think that’s what’s going on. I also don’t ever want to imagine that going on in my ship.” The Doctor denied, shivering at the idea. However, she really wasn’t stupid and knew that she had to keep lying to Yaz. Just until she brightened up a bit more. If she did at all.

“Well I’m just saying, they’re a bit too close lately.”

The master buttoned up his shirt, fixing the cuffs with little care. You rolled your eyes, making sure his collar was straight.

“It’s like you want us to get caught.”

“That would be thrilling.” He chuckled, mocking your previous escapades and moving closer to you. You just laughed, hitting his chest gently before sinking down into the floor. Your back rested on the couch as you sat between his legs. Placing a hand on the base of your neck, The Master worked out a deep knot you had there.

“Achey?” He teased.

“Shut up.” You were quick to retaliate but just groaned as the tension left your neck. The male merely smiled, happy to help.

“I can hear them now you know, flirting. Disgusting.” His lip curled in distaste, making you laugh out. Resting your head on his thigh, you gazed up at the man with big eyes.

“That’s very hypocritical you know.” You said, earning a raised brow from him. The Master just leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I know.” You really did love how brutally honest he was, especially when it came to the other love birds. Speaking of, he pulled away very quickly and seconds later the door opened. You busied yourself with a random book that was discarded by the fireplace. Behind you, The Master picked up with his work, as if he had a whole new energy about him.

“Ah there you two are! See Yaz? Everything is fine.” The doctor beamed, sitting herself beside the man on the couch. Yaz didn’t say anything, just looking between you both with reservation. In all fairness, you were testing the waters by sitting in that position.

“Good to see that you’re actually keeping out of trouble.” The Doctor nudged him on the shoulder, yet he never strayed from his papers.

“Of course, how could we ever get into trouble. She’s very well behaved.” The Master moved one hand, patting your head in a patronising manner.

“I think she was just referring to you, Master.” You told him, shutting the book and leaving it by your side.

“Well I know, (y/n) wouldn’t do anything out of pocket would she?” If only she knew, you thought after The Doctor spoke.

“Wow you’re writing fast, have you had a triple shot of coffee or something?” Yaz watched him stunned, seeing how quickly his hand was moving.

“Hm? Oh no, not coffee.”

“Did you eat something then? Like chocolate, that’s got a lot of sugar.” The Doctor added, agreeing with Yaz’s observation.

“Not chocolate, but I did have something sweet yes.” He stated simply, a smugness hidden in his tone. You had to bite your tongue, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

“Got any to share? I am pecki-“

“No.” He snapped, not allowing his fellow Timelord to finish what she was saying. Everyone looked at him, them with confusion and you with amusement.

“Don’t be so greedy.” It was as if Yaz jumped at the chance to be annoyed with him. Stopping his writing, The Master slowly peered up at the woman with vexation.

“I can be whatever I want to be.”

“Ok, ok no fighting please.” The Doctor almost begged, clearly finding it hard to deal with them butting heads.

“We wanted to talk to you both, what should we do tomorrow?” She put the question to the pair of you.

“Oh we get a say do we, I thought only your precious angel got to choose?” The Master quipped.

“Don’t start that. Come on.” The Doctor shot back before a full on shouting match could start. Letting out a heavy sigh, he sat straight and put his hand onto your shoulder.

“Why don’t you pick?” You felt as though as though he was gripping into you to ground himself more than anything else.

“Oh so you want your favourite to pick instead huh?” The Doctor probed, earning a dirty look from her girlfriend.

“Well of course.” His eyes found Yaz when he responded, clearly trying to egg her on more.

“As if she’d ever want to be your-“

“A party.” You voiced your pick loudly, hoping to keep the situation calm. Smiling, The Doctor leant forward to see you better.

“Yeah? What kind?”

“A cocktail party, like a nice, classy one where you have to put a bit of effort into how you look. Is that okay?” You looked around nervously, hoping your idea wasn’t too mundane.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea! Oh and I know just the place!” The Doctor genuinely seemed very pleased with your choice, a large grin etched into her features. She began to ramble about the planet in question, about the fancy parties the richer portion of the place hosted. Still, Yaz was only engrossed in how close you were to The Master, how his hand hadn’t left your shoulder. Then, her eye caught onto something and she gasped in pure horror.

“Yaz? Are you okay?” The Doctor enquired, not liking that she looked so unsettled.

“I didn’t know you got hurt so badly the other day?” Upset clear in her inflection, she crouched down next to you and reached towards your free shoulder. Upon looking, you found that your sleeve had fallen off, leaving a dark bruise of full display. Coyly, you pulled the material over it and tittered slightly.

“Apparently I did yeah, must be from when I fell.” You bluffed, pretending it really was sore. It wasn’t a complete lie, on your last outing at a group, you had fallen down a couple of stairs.

“Poor thing, aren’t you?” The Master said in false pity, giving you those big, sad eyes. Unable to speak, you suddenly felt as though everyone was staring at you and just turned back to the fire. He had an irritating smile on his lips, returning to his work as a way to deflect. Yaz was still fussing over you, thinking that you may be in pain or need something for it. Having said that, The Doctor watched your discomposed behaviour, the redness in your cheeks and shifty eyes. She then looked at the man next to her, his overtly windless demeanour and self-satisfied expression. It was as if everything clicked into place and the realisation hit her square in the face. Mouth agape, a million thoughts ran through her mind. Feeling her eyes gawking at him, The Master muttered underneath his breath,

“You’ll catch flies if you’re not careful.”

“And you’ll have to catch Yaz’s hands if you’re not careful.” Speaking through gritted teeth, The Doctor brought a muffled laugh from the man. He closed up his notebook and looked at her. She really didn’t know what to do at the revelation, he knew that and smirked. They couldn’t speak about it in front of you or Yaz, so she stayed silent, putting a pin in the matter. It wasn’t that she was worried per-say, it was just unexpected and new.

“Honestly Yaz, I’m okay.”

“But it looks bad.” As sweet as it was, you didn’t appreciate the unneeded ego boost The Master was getting.

“She’s fine Yaz, come on.” Standing up, The Doctor pulled the young woman up to her feet.

“See you tomorrow!” Perplexed, you watched as The Doctor practically dragged Yaz out.

“She seemed very concerned, love.” The Master droned out in levity, making you turn round fast. Getting up, you practically pounced on him, only to be caught instantly.

“I’m going to kill you.” You said with fake fury, even though you were the one being held at the waist.

“I look forward to it.”

———

In the depths of the tardis, you rifled through the many wardrobes that The Doctor had. Each were filled with unique articles from all times, planets and periods you could imagine.

“What about this?” Yaz asked, holding up a mid length, tight, red velvet dress.

“Oh yeah that will look great on you!” You smiled, urging her to choose it. Yaz walked over to you with it in hand, trying to help you decide. But you were being picky.

“Come on, (y/n). Who are you trying to impress? Anything will look good if you’re wearing it.” She laughed, leaving you alone to decide.

Back in your room, you took your time getting ready, doing your makeup and hair with great care. It was rare you got to go to anything labeled as fancy, so you wanted to savour it. After successfully zipping up the dress, you straightened it out and looked in the mirror. It was black satin, off the shoulder and figure hugging. The boning lined your body perfectly, going down your middle and around the bust. Coming to just above your mid thigh, you paired the dress with some chunky black heels before deciding you were ready.

When you got to the console room, you found that everyone was already there.

“Sorry, was I holding everyone up?” You questioned anxiously, standing by the mechanism. The Doctor shook her head, looking dapper in her tux as usual.

“Not at all. We’re nearly there.” She let you know kindly. Yaz definitely chose the correct dress, having now tied her hair into a bun, it really suited her.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“SinCeria. A planet adorned with six, silver moons that rise every six-hundred years. They hold a week long celebration for it and on the last day, you get to see the event.” The Master answered you, slowly making his way to you. He was dressed in an ox-blood coloured waistcoat, sporting his favourite pocket watch and black suit pants. The sleeves of his ebony shirt were neatly rolled up to his elbows, hands away in his pockets. You blinked rapidly, trying not to make your interest obvious. The Master was anything but discreet however, clearly ogling you with no guilt. You felt small under his gaze, but in the most flattering way.

“And presto!” The Doctor yelled as the ship landed with a thud, sending you tumbling. Of course, you were securely caught by The Master, his hands holding just under your arms.

“Shall we head then? I’m well excited for this.” The Doc grabbed hold of Yaz’s hand, taking her out and holding the door open. You quickly followed, whilst he kept a possessive hand on your side. After exiting the cleaning cupboard the time lady had parked in, you found yourselves in a long, extravagant hallway. It was lined with gold architrave against ivory walls and a soft, noir carpet. Each alcove held a hologram, a collection of creatures in a prestigious uniform.

“They’re the former kings of this planet.” The Master told you, noticing your curiosity.

“They look like geckos.” You smiled, thinking that you looked quite sweet. At the end of the corridor were two of said alien, clearly guarding the entrance door. With a quick flash of her psychic paper, The Doctor gained entry for the four of you and the doors were pushed open.

“Oh wow..” Yaz breathed once seeing the interior. It truly was breathtaking, with high arching ceilings being lit up by crystal chandeliers. In the middle of the grand room there was a dance floor, donning black and white checked tiles. Around that, were round, glass tables fitted with matching chairs. The centre of them held an elaborate, champagne shade candelabra, flickering away. Looking around, you saw a bar on the left side of the room with a few smaller tables and people mingling. It wasn’t too busy, the evening only just having started. A band were playing adjacent to the bar, a gentle tune to ease people in whilst guests were still arriving.

“Happy?” The Doctor looked at you hopefully. Grinning, you reached over and hugged your friend close.

“Yes it’s exactly what I meant, thank you.” She just chortled, rubbing your back then letting go. Beginning to explain the usual itinerary of the party, no one noticed the clear irritation of the man behind you.

“-so in about ten minutes, things will really pick up, won’t they?” The Doctor finished her sentence, looking at The Master for some support. She didn’t expect to find him glaring daggers at her and raised her brows in bewilderment. If looks could kill, she’d be six feet under.

“Yes. It will.” He grit out, never changing his look. You wanted to do something to calm him from whatever it was that got to him, but you couldn’t in front of everyone.

“Relax mr grumpy.” Yaz baited, clearly not caring for his foul mood at all. He ignored her, scouring the area some more.

“Care for a drink?” A well-mannered voice came from behind, causing the small group to turn. It was another gecko like man, holding a tray of what looked like yellow martinis.

“Ah thank you.” The Doctor took two at a time, first for you and Yaz, then for her and The Master. Taking a small sip, your eyes squinted at how sour it was.

“What is it, pure lemon?” You coughed, covering your mouth politely. Yaz was the same, handing her glass back to the blonde. She found it hilarious, laughing so hard that she struggled not to spill them. The Master was quick to finish his, taking your glass and putting them both on a nearby table. More people had arrived, a shared vigour across the room. The music picked up in beat, just enough to move too.

“You two don’t mind if we go and dance?” Yaz asked, though not really needing the answer, as she was already pulling on The Doctors sleeve.

“Please do.” The Master practically hissed, which was now starting to worry you. The woman dismissed it however and rushed off to the dance floor. Now alone, you faced The Master with your arms folded.

“What’s the matter?”

“Everyone here is looking at you.” His voice was low, icy even. Bemused, you looked around, eyes everywhere quickly moving on from you the minute you clocked them. Suddenly, you felt very self aware and backed up into his hold. Wrapping his arms around your waist, The Master pressed a kiss to your marked shoulder.

“You see now? I also don’t really approve of you hugging The Doctor like that.” He rested his chin there on your shoulder. “Not when you look this good.” You giggled as he pecked the crook of your neck a few times.

“You’re too kind.”

“Only to you, dear. Come now, I want to show you why this party even happens.” Lacing your fingers, The Master walked you through the crowd, over to the other side of the room. You stayed close, still feeling as though you were being watched. Then you saw it. In front of you was a floor to ceiling, glass window, giving the perfect view of space outside. The sky was a cascade of deep blues and purples, bright stars dotted throughout.

“Look.” The Master pointed down, only for you to see the heads of the Six Silver Moons.

“In about an hour, they’ll be at the perfect height for viewing.” With a hand placed on the small of your back, he stood beside you guardedly. Simpering, you leant into his body, basking in his warmth.

“I would have brought you here eventually. I knew you’d love it, but I’m happily surprised The Doctor actually considered you for once.” He mumbled by your ear, his thumb moving against your side soothingly.

“At least you’re with me. That’s all I really care about now, honestly.” You responded, too shy to look at the man. You didn’t know what he considered the pair of you to be, and that did bother you a little. Were you just like a potential companion with a few benefits? Or were you more? Was it real? You doubted he’d succumb to a human custom, like calling himself a ‘boyfriend’, and perhaps he didn’t even want to commit to you fully.

“How can you think so low of me, pet?” The Master turned you till your eyes met, a scowl present on his face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be reading my thoughts?”

“Well they’re very loud.” He defended himself, holding onto your waist securely. When you tried to avoid his gaze, he simply followed your eyes.

“I told you, you have me.”

“But what if-“ he didn’t let you finish, tipping down and capturing your lips with his own. You shut up very quickly, clinging onto his arms.

“Do you understand? Whilst I may not use your earthly titles, I consider us an official item, if that’s what you’d call it. As far as I’m aware, you’re mine and that’s not going to change.” Hearing him say that, filled you with an unmatchable amount of joy, a huge smile adorning your face. Happily, you jumped slightly and hugged onto him tightly. Chuckling, The Master swirled round with you in his grasp before placing you back down.

“Care to dance, pretty?”

“How formal. I’d love to.” You bit your lip to suppress your smile, allowing him to guide you onto the dance floor. Surrounded by other couples, he took one hand in his own, then placed his other in the curve of your waist. You held onto his shoulder, letting him take the lead and move to the violin central music.

Time passed swiftly, each tune different from the last. The Master held your hand, twirling you in time with the more up-tempo song. You couldn’t stop laughing, feeling so light and happy in that moment. He pulled you back into his embrace, your back flush to his chest. Looking up at him, he just grinned back at you.

From the crowd, Yaz appeared and rushed over to you both.

“The Doctor wants you.” She said, eyes fixated on The Master and sadly making him part from you.

“Shan’t be too long, ok?” He rubbed your shoulder softly, before glaring at Yaz then heading off.

“Wanna get a drink, (y/n)?” Nodding, you head to the bar with her, standing against the cool marble surface. All the staff were busy, but you didn’t really mind.

“Are you ok, like really ok?” The urgency in her voice did more than confuse you.

“I’m fine, Yaz. Are you ok?” You half laughed, resting one arm on the bar.

“I’m worried about you. I think you’ve been hypnotised.” She exasperated, and you heard yourself groan.

“Can you stop saying that?”

“If you’re being threatened or you’re scared, you know The Doctor will help you right? You don’t have to be freighted.” She touched your arm with care, as if what she was saying was true in any sense.

“Believe me I’m not frightened of him, at all. And he’s not trying to hurt me. Or you for that matter.” You said with certainty, trying hard to convince her. Yet, Yaz was unchanged. Standing straight, it was clear that her temper was rising.

“He’s a monster, (y/n). He’s clearly playing with you. Before long he’ll switch up on you and kill you. All of us maybe.” Now you were beginning to get angry, feeling a protectiveness over him. You knew he could look after himself, but you just couldn’t help it.

“He’s not! Why can’t you just drop it?”

“Because it’s getting out of hand now. You’re with him all the damn time!” She raised her voice, jaw clenched in frustration. People around you started to talk in hushed voices. Not wanting to draw any more attention, it took everything inside of you to remain calm.

“So what? It’s none of your concern. He’s doing exactly what The Doctor asked, he’s following her rules and being good. So what if I spend a bit of time with him?” Trying to play it down, you looked around for a bartender, hoping a drink might ease the argument.

“‘A bit’? It’s more than ‘a bit’! You’re practically attached to him!”

“As if you don’t follow The Doctor like a little puppy?” You shot back, making the girl turn red.

“Well I am her girlfriend! And she’s not a mass murderer!” At that, you gave Yaz a look of boredom, as you both knew of her past.

“Drinks ladies?” A voice cut in.

“Yes, thanks.” You responded without looking, fully focused on ending the stupid spat.

“Yasmine, I’m fine. You really need to stop this. It’s only going to get in the way of The Doctors sessions. He’ll get vexed and try to escape or something.”

“Good. I want him gone. He’s like a parasite and you’re his victim.” The hatred in her words, the pure desire to just throw him out was beginning to really affect you.

“What is wrong with you? You say he’s the evil one yet you’re the one being spiteful. All because he’s being nice to me?”

“Nice? You were dancing five minutes ago! He needs to leave before he brainwashes you into doing something worse.” Yaz was fuming, fist in a tight grip against the bar top. At your wits end, you just scoffed out a laugh.

“If you think dancing is the worst thing we’ve done together, you’re clearly blind.” Her face fell when you said that, dread slowly setting in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yaz prayed she was wrong, but one look at your face and she knew she wasn’t. “No. No there’s no way.” She said in distress, covering her mouth in shock. “How could you do this to us?”

“Excuse me?” Taking a step back, you glowered at her.

“After everything he did to us? You’re going to just let it go? You’re going to..to..”

“To what? Say it, I dare you.” Your chest was rising and falling at an odd pace.

“I don’t even want to think about it. You’re such a backstabber! When The Doctor finds out, you’ll both be done for.” It was hardly a threat, knowing that The Doctor was a tiny bit more level headed than that. In fact, she sounded like a bratty child.

“What you’re going to go tell on me? Get us in trouble? Is she your girlfriend or your mother?” You poked fun at the scenario, starting to feel worn out from all the yelling. That seemed to be the straw that broke the camels back, since Yaz snatched her purse up into her hand.

“You know what, i wish you two would get yourselves done away with! I’ll be happy if i never have to see you again!” She screamed before turning and storming off. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. It was all too much, sadness overwhelmed you.

“Your drink, miss.” Mumbling a small ‘thanks’, you took the flute and shot back the green, fizzy drink without a care. It didn’t taste too great, but you hoped it would numb the emotional pain you felt. It burned as it went down, in fact, it really burned. More than the average spirit would. Your tongue also reacted strangely to the drink, an instant numbness arriving.

“I’m hope you liked it.” That grainy voice. Cautiously, you turned your head and came face to face with the same man from the fish festival. How could you have missed it? “As it will be the last you ever have” His hairy face brought instant discomfort. Then, you remembered The Masters warning: ‘don’t try the drinks. You’ll get sick.’ Panic slowly came over you, your feet moving you away from the man. The glass slipped from your hands, smashing on the solid floor. Who knows what concoction he filled you with, but it was nothing good. Yasmines final words were starting to feel more like a death sentence. Who knows how long you had before anything more drastic started to happen. Gawping, he just slid over the bar like it was nothing, taking a few lethal steps closer.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fall asleep first. Gives me the chance to do as I please with you. I’ll be able to feel as your body goes cold.” He licked his stringy lips with anticipation. You only had one thing on your mind, finding The Master. You’d rather die in his arms than with this disgusting creature all over you. The tips of your fingers began to tingle. Looking down you found them turning black, your heart going unnaturally fast.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll take good care of your body.” It cackled, reaching its fin like arms forward. On cue, you turned and made a run for it, ducking in and out of the crowds with it hot on your tail. People all around were showing their concern but you just carried on, looking around desperately for The Master. Your legs were getting weaker, black spots clouding your vision in a matter of minutes. You strained yourself until you could barely walk anymore, ending up in the far right corner of the room, in the shadow of the large window. The moons were nearly at their peak, sparkling in the night sky.

“No where left to run human. You really were too tempting to resist. I had to trace you across the universe, but it will be worth it.” Your back hit the wall as it was speaking and closing in on you. How could you keep yourself conscious, how could you get the attention you needed?

“Master!!”

———

The Master had found The Doctor talking with one of the royal guards, learning more about the planets eco system in the process. She had smiled once seeing him.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He questioned, being met with a perplexed look.

“Uh no? Why?”

“Yaz said you did?” He explained, gesturing back to where he’d just come from. He really disliked leaving your side when you didn’t know the planet.

“What? But Yaz told me she was going to find a bathroom?” Now they were both left puzzled.

“So she lied to us both?”

“It would seem so, but why?” The Doctor posed the question, resting back against the wall behind her.

“You know why, I imagine she’s telling (y/n) off for being near me.” Rolling his eyes, The Master exhaled and looked into the crowd. Neither of you were there now. It felt like something had shifted, like a penny was dropping. Where had you gone?

“I’m trying, I just can’t shift her mind.” Guilt was laced in what she was saying so The Master made no further comments. Glancing around the room again, he caught wind of something that made him lour.

“That man was at the festival…that first place we went. I didn’t know their kind were on the guest list?” Looking back at The Doctor, she saw who he meant and nod.

“Neither did I.”

———

Yaz had made a beeline for The Doctor, wanting to explode and give The Master a piece of her mind.

“You!” She screeched, stopping in front of the purple clad man.

“What are you and (y/n)?” Yaz demanded an answer, making The Doctor rush to interfere. However, he held up his hand in wait.

“You know the answer to that, Yasmine.” Choosing to be honest, the young girl was taken aback.

“You’re..together?”

“If you want to put it into earth terms, then yes you can say that.” The confirmation felt like a nightmare. She looked at The Doctor furiously.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Yaz-“

“No Doctor! He’s a manipulative asshole!” She was yelling again, making a few guests and a guard look over. The Master didn’t care to pay attention, instead he was searching the room.

“Where is she?” He asked, getting no answer when the two woman were still bickering. There was a nauseating unease in his gut, their voice making him wince internally. He pushed between them.

“Where. Is. She?” The sharpness of his voice got her attention back again. Yaz tried not to show her fear.

“Who cares! She betrayed us for you!”

“You’re literally the only one who’s hung up on this. The Doctor doesn’t even care!” That made Yaz snap back round to her girlfriend. During the dispute, The Doctor had been sane and calm. It was in her better nature.

“Master!!” Your voice rang through the room, alerting the man instantly. Without thinking, he rushed off in the direction it came from, pushing through with no remorse. Your hands were now fully onyx, with little feeling left in them. The creature was right in your face, a fin sliding over your front and making you feel sick.

“Humans are so soft…” his fishy breath hit your face harshly, and you used all your will to push him back. That made him angry, a fin coming down and slicing across your middle. You let out a whimper of pain, almost falling but keeping your balance.

“Stupid girl, you’ll be mine in a few minutes. I’ll claim you as my own, my own little human sl-“ there was a bright flash. When you looked, it was gone. The Master stood there, eyes wide with terror. With the dark colour etching up your arms, he knew what it was. Blood seeped out of the cut on your stomach. He barely put his stolen TCE away before he was at your side. With what little strength you had, you pushed yourself into his arms just in time for him to catch you. “You came…” even your voice was weak now.

“Of course I did, I should never have left you.” He said, pressing a hand to your stomach firmly. Tears spilled down your cheeks, the pain unbearable and the slowness of your heart really scaring you. Finally, The Doctor caught up just as your legs gave out. The Master was fast, picking you up easily and turning to the woman. Your arm fell limp at your side, head rolling against his shoulder. Seeing you, her breath hitched. Instead of speaking, she began to run, snatching Yaz on the way and heading straight into the tardis. Yaz did watch as The Master carried you down to the med bay, her last words to you now scarred into her brain. He lay you on the bed where he once rested carefully, then rushed around to try and find an antidote.

“What are you thinking?” The Doctor asked in a rush, going to help him with whatever he needed.

“I don’t know. I think he poisoned her, judging by the reaction. It’s like her body is..” he shook his head, swallowing down thickly. She’d never seen him like this before and it scared her. It was really bad. The Master was a mess, flittering about from place to place. He began to ramble, spitting out different ideas and treatments. Slipping in and out of consciousness, you could only let out a strangled noise of pain. It was kink your lungs were folding in on themselves. After giving a set of instructions, The Master went to you once again. Taking hold of your hand, he almost flinched at how cold you felt. There was nothing he could say, he doubted there was anything he could do. Even when the doctor injected you with a blue liquid, it was futile. How could you go from laughing and dancing in his arms, to this? In such a short amount of time. The room fell quiet, your laboured breathing made the atmosphere dense. They knew it was far too late. She watched as The Master stood at your bedside, running his fingers through your hair lovingly. Never being one for goodbyes, The Doctor made her exit in a flurry, making sure Yaz Stayed away too. He could hear crying, not that she deserved to cry or mourn you. Your head went slack, eyes closing as your final breath narrowly escaped. For the first time in a millennium, tears filled The Masters eyes, obscuring his vision. He didn’t stop them, letting them fall. The one good thing he had, gone in an instant, like a drop of water on a lone flame. He now knew exactly how The Doctor felt every time she lose her companions. How she felt when loosing Rose. All of them coming and going like breath on a mirror. Whilst he could live on forever. The thought captured his brain, the most obvious thing. He was your cure. Standing by the top of your bed, The Master rubbed his hands together furiously until they emitted a golden glow, then pressed two fingers on each side of your head, closing his eyes and letting his regeneration energy work its magic. There was no real guarantee that it could bring you back, but he’d risk a life to keep you with him. It was hard to tell at first, with his eyes closed he couldn’t see the gash heal itself. Your hands slowly faded back to (skincolour), life flooding your veins. Eyes shooting open, you sat bolt upright, breathing in so much it made your lungs sore. Everything came back to you at once, your hands feeling around the middle of your stomach. There was no trace. It was gone. Turning your attention to your hands you saw swirls of gold under your skin. The Master took his hands from your head, moving round until you could see him. It all hit you in that moment, everything that had taken place.

“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was him. I should have know it was him. But we were arguing and I was distracted and-“ hot tears rolled down your cheeks, your words falling into one. The Master didn’t care though, wiping them away whilst sitting on the side of the bed.

“Don’t. Don’t apologise.” His throat was bone dry, making you take his exhausted appearance in.

“Were you…crying?” It was hard to imagine, but all the signs were there. Biting his lip to stop it from wobbling, The Master clasped your hand again tightly, relishing in the warmth and pressing a faint kiss on your palm.

“I thought I’d lost you. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything like that. I’ve lost so much. So many people that I loved. I couldn’t lose you too.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, your face pressed into his chest. This eased him greatly, his arms encasing your trembling body tightly. Hooking an arm under your legs, he shifted delicately until you were curled up between his legs. Neither of you cared about the dried blood or your ripped dress. It was meaningless now. The Master was cradling you like you could break at any moment, like you just did. Like even the suggestion would make him blunder.

“You love me?” Hesitantly, you gazed up at him. He met your eyes, cupping your cheek and leaning down.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He sounded bittersweet, eyes looking deep into your own. The unexpected confession only made you cry more.

“I love you too.” You choked out, soon met with a deep, passionate kiss. The Master never wanted to let go, holding you against him, feeling your tears mixing with his own. Your hands fisted his now ruined shirt, cherishing the intimate moment. Parting ways, you panted heavily, tiredness overtaking you all of a sudden. Though it was to be expected.

“It’s okay love, you can sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

———

The Master laid you down in a pair of fresh pyjamas, making sure the covers were over you securely. He left the med bay, walking up and finding both women with tear stained faces. He stopped at the top of the steps, alerting them with his heavy treads. The Doctor stood, looking at him sadly. Beside her, Yaz was clearly inconsolable, sitting on the floor in pure defeat.

“She’s fine. I brought her back.” He said, making the girls eyes grow wide.

“Seriously?”

“You think I’d just let her die, Doctor?” He spoke in a low voice, descending with heavy footsteps. Even now, The Doctor was distraught, knowing they had all lost you for a few minutes. Knowing that the girl she loved had indirectly played a part in that. It was then that The Master changed his course of direction, walking straight towards the blonde. Going against his moral code, he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug where she quickly broke down. He held the back of her head to his shoulder, rocking his old friend as she cried.

“You really saved her?” Yaz asked timidly. The Master, still piqued from the date evens, barely payed her any notice.

“I thought you wanted to kill her. O-or to hurt her…” she trailed off, all her assumptions slowly fading into obscurity. The Doctor pulled away, wiping her face dry the best she could whilst The Master held her up. His hands ran across her shoulders in comfort. Despite everything, the time lords could never truly hate each other. After their lives, they needed each other. They needed that feeling of home.

“I said I never wanted to see her again.” Yaz carried on, trembling in her spot on the floor. “I wished her death…” she finished in a whisper. They both went rigid, The Doctor turned around in trepidation, her mouth going dry.

“No…”

“You said what?” The Master charged over, looking down at the human with a fire inside that couldn’t be extinguished.

“I-I was just frustrated okay? I thought you were-“

“You thought I was hurting her? Manipulating her? Taunting and playing with her like she’s just some pawn in one of my elaborate mind game?” He snapped with venom, making Yaz back away. She couldn’t speak, voice seemingly shutting down.

“Look what happened. Because of your closed mindedness. This is why I hate humans. With your self righteousness and over confidence. Always thinking you’re right.” The Doctor stood back as he berated Yaz, chewing on her thumb nail. Normally, she would never allow this, but it was necessary.

“Unlike you, (y/n) used her brain. She can see past the plans and the killing. Past all the mistakes. She can see me. No, I’m never going to ‘turn good’. But I am going to do whatever I can to keep her safe. I agreed to stay, to try. I was never going to hurt anyone on this ship.” The Master crouched down, glaring deep into her eyes.

“Look what your hatred did. Are you happy now?” He put the question to her, searching her face for a solid answer that would satiate his fury. Yasmine didn’t respond, choking back tears in shame.

“I said are you happy now!” He howled, making the girl recoil, hitting a crystal pillar with force. Now that she was shaking in fear, The Master breathed out a deep sigh, pulling himself up. Turning to leave, he gave her one last cold look and said,

“You don’t deserve to be sad.” Then he trudged back to his room, trying to freshen up. The Doctor could deal with Yaz, hopefully finding an appropriate way of setting her straight.

———

After taking a shower that lasted far too long, The Master stared into the bathroom mirror with confliction. Was his therapy working? Why did he feel guilt? Maybe it was just the day weighing on him. Maybe it was all real emotion. Gripping the edge of the basin, he took in a few sharp breaths whilst moving his head side to side. Part of him wanted to storm the place, find his tardis and steal you away. But you needed to heal. The image of you covered in blood was stained into his memory. It was haunting him. He splatted his face with cold water, throwing something on to wear then pushing on the bathroom door. What he didn’t expect was to see you sat up in his bed, the pyjama shirt he had put you in was now hanging from your shoulder. He missed that dark bruise he had left on you. A symbol to show the universe that you were his.

“You’re supposed to be resting, what are you doing?” His voice made your head shoot round, a smile on your face as he approached you.

“I’m restless. I feel weird. Like buzzy.” You let him know, clenching and unclenching your fists to price your point.

“That’ll be the left over regeneration energy in your system, making sure you’re fully healed.” The Master stood in front of you, eyes wandering over your form numbly, concealing any and all woes. Tilting your head, you stared up.

“You’re sad.” Your statement took him off guard. He just scoffed and looked away.

“You don’t have to hide it from me, Master. I want you to be honest, please?” That was all it took to bring his walls down. He got onto the bed next to you, flopping back against the pillows.

“I’m not sad, (y/n). I don’t know what I’m feeling and I don’t like that.” You frowned as he spoke, crawling up beside him.

“It’s like I’m overwhelmed by a hundred different emotions. It’s awful. I don’t know how The Doctor does it.”

“She’s good at masking her feelings, just like you.” You scolded the both of them, even if she wasn’t there currently. He laughed a bit. Moving closer, you started to play with his hair gently, smiling at the bouncy curls. The Master kept his eyes on your face as you did this, monitoring your smile and your bright eyes. There was still a deep put in the middle of his stomach.

“I was scared. Really scared. Terrified even.” He admitted, voice barely audible. But you heard. Tentatively, you started stroking the side of his head, hoping to help the man open up some more.

“And now I know what Yaz said to you.” You froze, making eye contact with him. “She said she wanted you dead?” You wet your lips anxiously, your hand resuming its movements.

“Both of us actually…”

“I don’t care what she thinks about me. But you? In that moment, when you were gone, I felt so lost.” He was tense, shooting knives at the ceiling with his eyes.

“You quell the racket inside my head. With you, I feel sane. I need you, (y/n). I can’t lose you” the more he spoke the quieter he got, your heart swelling in response.

“You’re not going to lose me. Why do you think I came here as soon as I woke up? I’m not leaving your side, ever.” You soothed, nails scraping along his scalp nicely. “And we can leave together. If you find your tardis we’ll go as soon as you’re ready.” Eventually, your words reached him and The Master relaxed, turning towards you. He pulled you down, holding you against his chest. Instantly you felt safe, nuzzling into him and hugging his waist.

“Trust me, we’re going as soon as possible.” In his mind, The Doctor and Yaz were simply an after thought. He could find his ship in a dual heartbeat, without them knowing, he was just that good. And, with you by his side, The Master knew he could take on anything the universe threw at him.

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #dhawan master x reader #the doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #spymaster #the master x reader #the master #the Doctor #the master angst #the master fluff.#dhawan!master #Dhawan!master imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader

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seongsangssbitch · 3 months ago

Text

The Amazing Spiderman

pt 1

Synopsis: Yunho is Spiderman the city's savior and superhero who is also a little bit of a loser and is painfully in love with his best friend Mingi. What happens when his father's experiment goes terribly wrong transforming Yunho into a monster he despises?

Pairing: Spiderman! Yunho x Bestfriend! Mingi

Word count: 48k(total) 24k(This part)

Warning: Violence, blood, and angst, detailed rough sex smut(not in this chapter) mind control, body control, lots and lots of cursing, daddy issues, mentioned death of a sibling.

Note: I honestly wrote this whole thing in a day(my eyes are burning right now) BUT AAAAAH I LOVE HOW THIS STORY TURNED OUT. Special thanks to my bae @asherthehimbo for supporting me and helping me out and my wifey @grapejellysollie <333. Have fun reading this!! Part two will be posted tomorrow

Part 2

"Do you think Spider-Man... you know, cums webs?" Mingi asked, slurping his noodles as if he'd just posed a question about the weather.

Yunho froze mid-slurp, eyes widening in horror as he choked on the spicy broth. He coughed until his face turned red, finally managing, "Mingi, what the actual—no! What are you even talking about?"

Mingi just shrugged, still munching away without a hint of shame. "I mean if he can shoot webs, like... where else can he shoot them from?" He waggled his eyebrows, looking entirely too amused by his own question.

Yunho could feel his face heating up, but he was also fighting a losing battle with his composure. "Trust me," he said, holding back a laugh, "he definitely does not shoot webs from there."

As much as Yunho would love to play along with Mingi's bizarre curiosity, he had firsthand knowledge of Spider-Man's... physiology. He was Spider-Man, after all. The city's mysterious, slightly awkward superhero, who'd been spending the last few weeks swinging between buildings, testing his limits, and learning to keep his cool. Well... mostly.

It hadn't started out so heroic. Just three weeks ago, Yunho was the scrawny, curious guy who spent his free time poking around his dad's lab. When he stumbled across a strange, black-glass door tucked away in the corner of the lab, he felt his usual mix of curiosity and overconfidence kick in. And, of course, he went inside.

Behind the door, he found row after row of brightly colored spiders in tanks—a veritable rainbow of creepy crawlies. And because Yunho had no sense of self-preservation, he leaned in for a closer look, pressing his face against the glass. One of the spiders, in all its neon glory, suddenly decided to spray a jet of thick, fluorescent liquid straight into his eyes.

The next morning, Yunho woke up feeling... different. It was subtle at first—clearer vision, a little more energy—but by the time he got to school and saw Mingi, the changes were impossible to ignore.

Mingi, his buff, and intimidating best friend, had jogged over to him in the hallway, smiling wide. But when Mingi gave Yunho his usual playful shove, he stumbled backward, nearly tripping.

"What the hell, dude?" Mingi huffed, straightening his shirt as he eyed Yunho suspiciously. "Since when did you get so strong?"

Yunho blinked, just as surprised as Mingi. "I... don't know?"

But before Yunho could even process it, Mingi's hand was on his stomach, pressing against his abdomen. "Whoa, Yunho—you have abs?" His expression shifted from disbelief to something like awe. "Did I miss a whole gym transformation or what?"

Yunho's face turned red as he stammered, "W-What? I... I haven't even, uh, looked..." He mentally kicked himself for having skipped his usual shower that morning; he'd been too preoccupied with his sore muscles and strange new strength.

Mingi grinned, giving Yunho a look that was equal parts amused and suspicious.

"Well, you're going to have to start explaining soon, because this?" He gestured at Yunho's torso. "This isn't normal."

Yunho's mind raced, scrambling for a plausible explanation. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that one experimental spider spray later, he was waking up with six-pack abs? That definitely wasn't in the manual for "normal high school life."

So, with as much confidence as he could muster, Yunho forced a nervous laugh and tried to brush it off. "Uh... yeah, guess I've just been eating my vegetables?"

Mingi gave him a skeptical once-over before rolling his eyes. "Right. Sure, vegetable abs. Whatever, dude." His grin turned devious as he started walking away. "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook in gym class anymore. With those muscles? You're officially on my radar."

As Mingi strutted off toward the washroom, Yunho exhaled, relief flooding through him. For now, the secret was safe, and Mingi hadn't pieced anything together. Yunho was still getting used to it all himself. Who would have thought that one unfortunate lab accident would turn him into Spider-Man, the superhero he grew up reading about?

Flash forward three weeks, and Yunho was now the city's new sensation—a superhero in a red suit swinging from skyscrapers, stopping robberies, and saving people left and right. The whole city was buzzing about him. Every news channel had a story on the "mysterious Spider-Man from the marvel novels," and social media was obsessed with him. But Yunho? He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was his life now.

The real kicker, though? His best friend was Spider-Man's biggest fan—without even knowing who Spider-Man actually was. Mingi loved Spider-Man with a passion that bordered on... well, creepy. His phone wallpaper? Spider-Man. His contact photo? Spider-Man. His Instagram profile picture? Spider-Man. Every time Yunho logged on, he was greeted with Mingi's latest barrage of posts and stories, usually captioned with things like "Check out these Spider-muscles!" or "My man crush Monday, every Monday, is Spider-Man."

If Yunho had a dollar for every time Mingi reposted some fan edit of Spider-Man's latest heroic stunt, he could retire from superhero work altogether.

The whole situation had Yunho feeling flustered for more reasons than he cared to admit. Because, well, there was the small matter of his four-year crush on Mingi. He'd fallen for him ages ago, and the feelings had only grown stronger over time. But Mingi was oblivious to it—oblivious to how Yunho's face would flush every time he complimented Spider-Man's, or his, muscles. And of course, Mingi had no idea that his best friend was the very guy he was fangirling over.

It was... complicated. On one hand, it was kind of thrilling. Mingi was infatuated with Spider-Man, technically making him infatuated with Yunho's secret identity. But on the other hand, Yunho found himself actually feeling jealous of... well, himself. Or at least his "Spider-Man" self.

Because at the end of the day, Mingi was crushing on an idealized version of Yunho, a persona he'd crafted to protect his identity and keep people at a distance. He wanted Mingi to like him, the real Yunho, not just the mask he put on at night. The irony wasn't lost on him—here he was, a superhero who could lift cars and swing across the city, but he couldn't even admit his feelings to his best friend.

And to top it all off, whenever Mingi talked about Spider-Man, Yunho had to bite back the urge to spill everything. He wanted to tell Mingi, "That's me, that's me in that suit, and every time I save someone, I think of how you'd be cheering me on." But instead, he just kept quiet, pretending not to care, pretending not to notice Mingi's borderline obsession with his alter ego.

It was maddening, but also... kind of sweet. Because, deep down, Yunho knew that the day Mingi found out the truth, he'd finally see Yunho for who he really was. And that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

For now, though, he'd keep swinging through the city, dodging his best friend's relentless fangirling and hoping that maybe, someday, Mingi would fall for the person behind the mask just as hard as Yunho had fallen for him.

Mingi had already polished off his bowl of ramen and was now eyeing Yunho's half-finished noodles like one of Pavlov's dogs, practically salivating with anticipation. Yunho could see it in his eyes—Mingi's fixation on that last bit of broth and noodles, the silent plea that he was too proud to voice.

Yunho sighed, trying to ignore the pang of hunger he still felt. He'd barely eaten all day, and he definitely needed the energy boost if he was going to be out swinging across the city tonight. But he wasn't about to tell Mingi that. And besides, how could he deny Mingi something he wanted when he looked at Yunho with that hopeful expression?

With a small smile, Yunho nudged his bowl toward his best friend. "I'm not really that hungry anymore," he said, trying to sound casual. "You want some?"

Mingi's face lit up instantly, his hand darting forward as he practically snatched the bowl from Yunho's side. "Thanks, man! You're the best," Mingi mumbled, already absorbed in his new prize as he dug in with gusto. Watching him eat, so happy over something as simple as noodles, Yunho bit his lip, trying to hold back the dopey grin threatening to spread across his face.

God, he thought, feeling his chest warm. Mingi is so damn cute.

At that moment, Yunho would have gladly bought a thousand packets of ramen just to keep Mingi happy. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was for Mingi to make his heart race—just a smile, just a glance, just this unguarded moment with no one else around.

As Yunho was savoring the moment, his homemade radio buzzed, cutting through his thoughts. It was a simple, janky-looking device, something he'd thrown together in his dad's lab with a few spare parts and a lot of trial and error. But it worked, and now it was vibrating urgently in his pocket, signaling another police report of a crime in progress.

He sighed inwardly, glancing down at the pager. Of course, he thought. Right when things are getting good. But this was part of the deal he'd signed up for. Even if it meant missing out on moments like this with Mingi, there was a whole city out there counting on Spider-Man.

"Everything okay?" Mingi asked, pausing with his chopsticks mid-bite, his face full of genuine concern.

"Uh, yeah!" Yunho said quickly, shoving the pager back into his pocket. He forced a smile. "Just...my dad's lab, you know. More work to do."

Mingi rolled his eyes. "Again? Man, you're seriously overworked. Tell your dad to give you a break sometime."

"Yeah," Yunho chuckled weakly, guilt gnawing at him. But he was already running through the plan in his head: how to slip away, how to ditch Mingi without raising suspicion, how to don the red suit and be swinging across rooftops in the next few minutes. All while Mingi would be here, thinking Yunho was just another normal guy dealing with the demands of his scientist father.

"Go on," Mingi said, playfully shooing him off. "Go be a nerd."

Yunho gave him one last look, memorizing the way Mingi's face lit up in a smile before standing up. "I'll catch you later, yeah?"

"Don't keep me waiting too long," Mingi replied with a wink, returning to his noodles.

Yunho swallowed hard, hating that he had to leave but knowing he couldn't stay.

As soon as Yunho rounded the corner away from Mingi's line of sight, he pulled off his shirt, revealing the sleek, skin-tight suit he'd been hiding beneath his clothes. The deep red and stark black webbing clung to his body, practically molded to him, making him look every bit the superhero he was. It still felt surreal every time he saw himself in it. With one quick motion, he balled up his shirt and tucked it into his backpack, which he'd hidden behind a dumpster a few blocks down.

Yunho took a deep breath, glancing up at the skyline above him. The city sprawled out before him, darkened buildings lit by the neon signs and the occasional flash of passing cars below. He slipped his mask on, feeling the familiar sense of power wash over him. Out here, he wasn't Jeong Yunho, the lanky kid who barely got by in gym class. Here, he was Spider-Man—the city's silent protector.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the slight hum of energy that came from his fingertips, then shot a web toward the nearest building. The line stuck with a satisfying snap, and Yunho launched himself into the air, soaring up as his surroundings blurred past him. The wind whipped around him, and he twisted in midair, feeling the familiar adrenaline spike as he swung between buildings. Every time he swung was like rediscovering flight; the city was his playground, and each leap and arc made him feel truly alive.

He let go at the peak of his swing, flipping through the air before catching himself on another line of webbing. The rush of it all— the speed, the height, the impossible freedom—made everything else disappear. The world below was chaotic and uncertain, but up here, it was just him, the sky, and the hum of traffic far below.

As he reached the area of the city where the police report had come from, Yunho dropped lower, blending into the shadows of the buildings. He scanned the streets below, his senses heightened, picking up every noise, every flicker of movement. Somewhere nearby, a siren blared, and he saw the flash of police lights bouncing off the walls.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the crime scene below—a robbery in progress at a small electronics shop. Two masked men were loading boxes into a van, oblivious to his arrival. Yunho smiled under his mask, feeling the thrill of the hunt course through him.

Without a second thought, he released his web and dropped straight down, landing silently on a ledge just above the robbers. His fingers twitched as he fired a line, snatching one of the men's guns out of his hand with a deft yank. The weapon skittered across the pavement, making the robbers whirl around in shock.

"Hey, fellas," Yunho called out, letting his voice take on that playful, taunting edge. "Didn't your moms ever tell you stealing's wrong?"

The robbers blinked, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. One of them raised his hands, only to have Yunho's web catch his wrist and yank him up like a marionette. With a swift swing, Yunho had him dangling from a nearby lamppost, his partner frozen in shock and immediately punched Yunho which would surely leave an ugly bruise but nothing is ugly when it comes to Yunho.

It all happened in a matter of seconds—webs shooting out, bodies flying, and within moments, both robbers were tied up and struggling helplessly, suspended from streetlights like they'd just been dropped off by the world's most unconventional delivery service.

Yunho grinned, giving one of the ropes a playful tug as he dangled the men a few inches higher. "Sit tight, the cops'll be here soon," he quipped, before taking a running leap and swinging back into the night.

As he soared through the air, the city rushing by beneath him, Yunho let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The adrenaline, the thrill, the power—all of it felt incredible. And though he was alone up here, he couldn't help but wish Mingi could see him like this, soaring effortlessly across the cityscape, untethered, free.

With one last powerful swing, he catapulted himself onto the roof of a tall building, looking out over the city he protected. Somewhere down there, Mingi was likely still eating his ramen, unaware of the secret life his best friend led. But that was okay at least Mingi would be thirsting over him by tomorrow.

Yunho slipped quietly through his apartment window, landing softly in his dimly lit bedroom. He exhaled, pulling off his mask and letting it dangle from his hand as he quickly locked the window behind him. The city was quiet now, the sounds of his patrol still buzzing in his ears, but tonight's mission had left him with more than just the usual ache in his muscles.

He winced, gingerly touching his cheek where one of the robbers had managed to get a lucky punch in. It was throbbing now, a hot pulse of pain that flared up each time he moved his jaw. Muttering under his breath, he flicked on the light, stepping up to his bathroom mirror.

The face staring back at him looked like he'd gone a few rounds in the ring. The bruise was already forming, an angry purple splotch spreading across his cheekbone, deepening as he gently poked at it. "Ouch," he hissed, jerking his fingers away. He hadn't expected a hit like that to hurt this much. His Spidey sense was sharp, but he wasn't invincible.

"Great," he muttered, turning his face to assess the damage from different angles. "Gonna have to tell Mingi I fell on something."

The thought made him grin, though it was a half-hearted one. He imagined Mingi poking fun at him, then probably dragging him to the nearest pharmacy to load up on ice packs and painkillers.

He glanced down at his suit, noticing a few scuffs and dirt smudges from his evening escapades.

The next day, Yunho walked into school trying to act as normal as possible. He'd barely gotten any sleep after last night's patrol, and the bruise on his cheek was a constant, aching reminder of how close he'd come to getting hit harder. It wasn't like he was a stranger to scrapes and bruises—being Spider-Man came with the territory—but there was something about this one that nagged at him. Maybe it was the fact that Mingi would definitely notice.

As soon as he stepped into the classroom, he saw Mingi at his usual spot, sitting near the back of the room, scrolling through his phone. His dark eyes flicked up and caught Yunho's, and Yunho felt a chill run down his spine. He could feel Mingi's gaze on him even before he spoke.

"Yunho, what the hell happened to your face?" Mingi's voice was laced with concern, the teasing edge missing for once.

Yunho froze, cursing inwardly. He'd hoped to get through the day without it being noticed. "It's nothing," Yunho said quickly, reaching up to casually rub at his cheek, hoping the bruise wouldn't look too bad.

Mingi didn't buy it for a second. He stood up so fast that his chair skidded backward. "Nothing? Dude, that's not nothing. You've got a damn bruise on your cheek! Did you get into a fight?"

"I'm fine, Mingi," Yunho said, trying to wave it off as casually as possible, but the guilt was already creeping in. He knew Mingi wouldn't let it go. Not when it came to something like this.

Mingi wasn't having it. He was already striding over to Yunho's side, eyes narrowing as he inspected the bruise more closely. "That looks bad. I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

Yunho opened his mouth to protest, but Mingi was already dragging him by the sleeve, ignoring his feeble attempts to get away. "I swear, if you don't let me take care of you right now, I'm going to tell everyone you got beat up by a girl," Mingi teased, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

"No, no, no, I'm fine, Mingi! Really," Yunho protested, trying to pull back, but Mingi had a death grip on him.

Mingi just shot him an incredulous look. "Yunho, are you kidding? You're walking around with a bruise on your face and you expect me to believe you're fine?"

Yunho sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. He shot a quick glance around the room, hoping no one else was watching, but the whole class was too busy chatting to notice.

"Fine," he muttered. "But only because you won't leave me alone."

Mingi grinned, already pulling him toward the door. "Damn straight. Now, sit down and let the nurse fix you up. You've been acting weird lately, and I'm not about to let you mess yourself up more."

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at how determined Mingi was. If only he knew just how much Yunho was really hiding. He followed Mingi to the nurse's office, his stomach a little more twisted than usual. The more time he spent with Mingi, the more Yunho wished he could just tell him everything. But if he did... well, that would complicate things even more.

As they entered the nurse's office, Yunho sat down on the cot, his heart pounding in his chest. Mingi was already talking to the nurse, explaining that his best friend had gotten into a fight or something. Yunho didn't really pay attention to the conversation, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as the nurse began to clean up the bruise.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his thoughts were running wild. Mingi was so close, and Yunho wanted to tell him everything. He wanted Mingi to know who he really was, the person behind the mask, the one who could never quite be enough for Mingi. But how could he, when it was dangerous for Mingi to know? The risks were too high.

The nurse finished applying an ice pack to his bruise, and Mingi plopped down beside him, looking at him with a concerned frown. "You sure you're okay? You don't have to hide it from me, man. If something happened, you know you can tell me."

Yunho felt his heart stutter in his chest at the weight of Mingi's words. He wanted to tell him everything, but he couldn't—not yet, not like this.

"I'm fine, really," Yunho said, forcing a smile as he reached up to adjust the ice pack. "Just... had a rough night."

Mingi didn't seem convinced, but he dropped it, at least for now. "Alright, if you say so. Just... don't make a habit of getting yourself beaten up, okay?"

Yunho chuckled softly, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he met Mingi's gaze. "I'll try my best."

But as Mingi sat there beside him, Yunho couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Because Mingi would never know how much of a lie that was.

It was another late night when Yunho found himself swinging through the city, the cool night air rushing past him as he navigated the rooftops. His muscles were still sore from the earlier skirmish with the robbers, but he didn't mind. He was used to the aches and bruises, the constant battle between keeping the city safe and keeping his own body intact.

Tonight, though, he wasn't just patrolling for general crime. He had spotted a distress signal—a call from a girl on the edge of the neighborhood, her message flashing in his head like a beacon. Someone needed help. And Yunho wasn't going to let them down.

Swinging through the air with practiced ease, he landed silently behind a dimly lit alley, his senses immediately alert to the sounds of muffled voices and scuffling feet. He crouched low, peeking around the corner, and saw a young woman, barely a teenager, pinned against the brick wall by two men who looked like they'd just crawled out of a bar fight. They were pushing her around, their hands out of control, their words laced with drunken malice.

"Hey!" Yunho called out, stepping into the alley, his voice low but commanding.

The men turned, their eyes narrowing as they saw the figure standing there, backlit by the pale streetlight. The larger of the two men, a burly guy in a leather jacket, sneered. "What's this? Another hero wannabe?"

Yunho didn't answer. He just crouched into a stance, ready to fight. He didn't have time for words, not when someone was in danger.

The smaller man, apparently the one with a bit more sense, eyed Yunho cautiously. "What do you want? This is none of your business."

Yunho didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his body a blur of motion as he delivered a precise kick to the smaller man's chest, sending him crashing into the nearby trash cans. The larger one growled in fury, charging at Yunho, fists swinging wildly.

Yunho was fast—so fast that the blow missed by inches, and he immediately countered with a sharp uppercut, knocking the guy off balance. But the larger man was strong, and he wasn't going down that easily. He swung again, this time landing a punch right to Yunho's jaw. The impact sent a shock of pain through his head, and for a split second, he felt his vision blur.

Shaking it off, Yunho used his agility to spin and duck, narrowly avoiding a heavy right hook. He countered with a quick jab to the man's ribs, then followed up with a roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling onto the pavement.

Yunho didn't stop there, though. The larger man was already getting back to his feet, more furious than ever, and Yunho could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. This wasn't going to be easy, not when they were both clearly stronger than your average thug.

But he was Spider-Man, and he wasn't about to let them get the better of him.

He shot a web at the man's ankle, pulling him off balance again, then darted in close, landing a series of quick punches to his midsection before another web shot out to pin the man to the nearby wall. The guy struggled, growling and cursing, but the webs were strong—stronger than any regular rope or chain.

With the larger man subdued for the moment, Yunho turned to the girl, who was still huddled against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. She didn't look hurt, but the terror in her gaze told him everything he needed to know.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, his voice softening. He didn't want to scare her further, not after everything she'd just gone through.

The girl nodded quickly, though her voice trembled as she spoke. "Y-yeah... I'm fine. Thank you... thank you so much."

Yunho gave her a quick smile, reassuring her. "Get out of here. Go somewhere safe."

Without waiting for her response, he turned back to the men, who were both struggling against the webs. He didn't need to stick around to wait for the police—he had already done his part. It wasn't his job to deal with them beyond stopping the crime in the moment. Besides, the longer he stayed, the more chance there was for someone to spot him without his mask.

He shot one last web at the two men to secure them in place before he started backing away into the shadows. As he prepared to leave, though, the larger man growled, his voice muffled by the webs.

"You're gonna regret this, Spider-Man," he snarled.

Yunho didn't even flinch. "Not as much as you will."

With that, he swung up into the night, leaving the scene behind him. But as he soared through the city, a tight knot of discomfort settled in his stomach.

Those men had been strong—stronger than most. And Yunho knew that if he wasn't careful if he kept pushing himself too far, there would come a time when even his enhanced strength and reflexes wouldn't be enough.

But that was a problem for another day.

Tonight, the city was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I mean not really, Mingi had invited Yunho over for dinner and it mattered more than anything.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a message from Mingi.

Mingi: "Yo, dinner at mine. Don't ghost me this time."

Yunho smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a little. Mingi had no idea what Yunho had been doing all night, and Yunho was more than grateful for that. It was one of the few things he could keep private. As much as he loved being Spider-Man, sometimes he wished he didn't have to juggle the mask with everything else.

Yunho: "On my way. You better not be cooking something weird this time."

The response was almost instant.

Mingi: "I swear, if you don't show up this time, I'll throw you off my balcony. And for the record, I'm making stir-fry, so don't be dramatic."

Yunho grinned and quickly typed back.

Yunho: "I'll be there. Hold your horses."

Within seconds, he was already scaling a nearby building, his mind racing but his body on autopilot. He swung across the skyline, landing softly on the balcony of Mingi's 17th-floor apartment with ease.

"Wassup, man," Yunho said, tapping lightly on the glass of Mingi's balcony door, hoping to catch him off guard.

Mingi's head shot up from where he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, a mix of surprise and disbelief on his face. "Yo, dude, what the hell? How are you 17 floors up my balcony?" Mingi asked, his voice a mixture of shock and amusement.

Yunho just shrugged, flashing a nonchalant grin as he stepped into Mingi's apartment. "I have my ways," he said lightly, his voice casual, though internally, he was a little out of breath. It wasn't like he didn't have a good excuse. He was Spider-Man, after all. But Mingi didn't need to know that.

"Man, seriously, you need to stop doing that. I swear, you're gonna get us both in trouble one of these days," Mingi muttered, though there was an affectionate smile tugging at his lips. He didn't seem fazed by Yunho's bizarre way of showing up at his apartment, though it was clear he was starting to doubt something.

"Hey, when you have the best view in town, why not use it?" Yunho teased, stepping inside and heading for the kitchen.

Mingi rolled his eyes but grabbed a couple of plates, placing them on the counter. "Yeah, sure, that's definitely the reason," he said dryly. "But honestly, you've gotta stop sneaking around like that if my dad finds out he'll think weird."

Yunho shrugged, trying to downplay it. " I'm just here for dinner. That's all I'm gonna get caught doing tonight."

Mingi shot him a skeptical look as he started making stir-fry. "You really need to stop getting yourself involved in stuff. You're acting weirder and weirder lately."

Yunho froze for a moment, his thoughts momentarily straying to his double life. What could he say? That he had been Spider-Man all night, stopping robberies, fighting off thugs, and saving the city? That his bruises were from a fight with a group of criminals who were just too damn strong? No way. Mingi didn't need that kind of stress in his life.

"Yeah, I've just been... busy. You know, life and all," Yunho replied with a slight chuckle, trying to sound casual.

Mingi, ever the observant one, didn't seem entirely convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly as he set the pan down and turned to face Yunho. "Yeah, busy. But busy with what exactly?"

Yunho quickly shifted the conversation, wanting to steer Mingi away from any more questions. "I'm just tired, man. You know how it is. Let's just eat, yeah?"

Mingi eyed him for a moment longer, but then sighed, relenting. "Fine, but if you're gonna keep acting like this, you're gonna make me worry."

Yunho flashed his friend a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was too tired to keep up the act, but for Mingi's sake, he tried. "I'm fine, I promise."

Mingi seemed to buy it—he always did. As the smell of the stir-fry began to fill the apartment, Yunho felt himself relax a little. It wasn't often that he had moments like this. Mingi had no idea what was really going on in Yunho's life, and Yunho wasn't sure how long he could keep pretending. But for now, he was content.

For a few hours, he didn't have to be Spider-Man. He could just be Yunho, hanging out with his best friend.

That was enough for him—for now.

Yunho picked up on the tension, that heavy silence settling between bites of stir-fry, and he couldn't ignore it any longer. He set down his chopsticks and looked at Mingi, brows furrowed in concern.

"Mingi, seriously. What's up? Something feels... off."

Mingi sighed deeply, avoiding Yunho's eyes as he placed his own chopsticks down, and to Yunho's surprise, he saw the unmistakable glimmer of tears gathering in Mingi's eyes. The sight pulled at his heart, and he sat up straighter, leaning in to catch Mingi's gaze.

"Yunho, you've been so distant lately," Mingi said, his voice wavering. "I mean, seriously, man—are you making new friends? Or, like... doing drugs? Do you have some secret girlfriend you're not telling me about?" His voice cracked slightly, his usual humor replaced by a genuine sadness. "Are you... doing something dangerous? I just feel like we're drifting apart so much, and it's like I'm going to lose you."

The words hit Yunho hard. This was so typical of Mingi, the overthinker—the friend who always worried that Yunho would leave him behind someday. Yunho knew it was because of Mingi's past, the friends who had come and gone, people who'd let him down, leaving Mingi wary of everyone except him. And Yunho had always promised that he'd never be one of those people.

"Mingi..." Yunho murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not what you think. I'm not leaving you, and I'm definitely not doing anything that would make me, I don't know... too cool for you or whatever." He chuckled softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Mingi's shoulder.

But the look in Mingi's eyes didn't waver. "Then what is it, Yunho? You're not around as much. You disappear without a word. And when you come back, you're... different. Like... like you're carrying something heavy, and you won't let me help you with it."

Yunho swallowed, words jamming in his throat, as he tried to find something—anything—that could explain his recent distance. He wanted to tell Mingi everything, to open up and share the truth about his life as Spider-Man. Mingi was his person, the one who knew him best, the one he could always lean on. Keeping this huge part of his life a secret felt like tearing apart something special between them.

But how could he explain? Mingi didn't know the first thing about what it meant to be a hero. And Yunho had seen all the Spider-Man movies; he knew the pattern, the tragic twist that seemed to haunt every story. Every single person Peter Parker had ever loved ended up... gone. It was as if love itself was his curse, woven into his identity. Each one lost was a canon event, something that was inevitable, fate's price for having something good, something beautiful.

Yunho had watched those movies with wide eyes, feeling a mixture of thrill and dread. He'd seen how Spider-Man's enemies went after the people Peter loved—Aunt May, Gwen, even Mary Jane. The villains never fought fair; they knew exactly where to strike, exactly who to target to make Spider-Man suffer. And that scared Yunho. Because while being Spider-Man was exhilarating, it also painted a target on everyone close to him.

Looking at Mingi, Yunho felt that tight squeeze in his chest, the same fear he'd always ignored. Mingi was more than a friend; he was the one person Yunho couldn't imagine living without. And the thought of putting Mingi in danger, of letting him become part of that twisted pattern? It was enough to make him pause, to bury the truth even deeper. For both their sakes.

But seeing the hurt in Mingi's eyes made him waver. If he lost Mingi's trust, what would be left?

He took a deep breath and tried to reassure him. "Look, I... I know it seems like I'm acting weird, and yeah, maybe I've been distracted lately. But I promise, it's not what you think. There's no girlfriend, no drugs, no bad crowd. Just... life, I guess." He gave a small, strained smile. "You're still my best friend. You're not losing me, okay?"

Mingi bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with Yunho's words, wanting to believe him but clearly still hesitant. "But why do I feel like I'm the last person who knows what's really going on with you? I thought... I thought I'd be the first to know everything."

Yunho's chest tightened, guilt gnawing at him. "Mingi, you're still the first person I think about—always. I know it doesn't make sense right now, but please, just... trust me."

Mingi exhaled slowly, nodding but still looking pained. "I do trust you. I just don't want to lose you." His voice was barely a whisper, filled with the vulnerability Yunho knew Mingi rarely let anyone see.

"You won't," Yunho replied softly, his own heart aching as he watched Mingi's face. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."

Mingi managed a small, hopeful smile. "You better mean that."

Without thinking, Yunho leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Mingi and pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel Mingi's arms slide around him in return, holding him just as tightly, as if afraid to let go. Yunho's heart pounded hard enough that he was sure Mingi could feel it, but he ignored it, closing his eyes and letting himself melt into the closeness of the moment.

For a few seconds, the world outside faded away. No more villains, no more bruises hidden under long sleeves or secrets he carried alone. It was just Yunho and Mingi, two friends who knew each other better than anyone else, clinging to that connection as if it was their lifeline.

Mingi's head rested against Yunho's shoulder, his breathing warm against Yunho's neck, and Yunho squeezed him tighter, afraid that if he let go, the whole moment would slip away.

"Promise you'll tell me if you're ever in trouble?" Mingi's voice was muffled against his shoulder but thick with emotion. "I just... don't want to be left in the dark."

Yunho hesitated, the words catching in his throat, but he forced himself to nod. "I promise," he whispered, even if the promise felt bittersweet. He knew he couldn't tell Mingi everything—not yet. But for now, just being here, with Mingi in his arms, was enough. It had to be enough.

You might be thinking, if Yunho became a superhero after his dad's weird, experimental spiders squirted on him, he should've gone straight to his father, confessed, and tried to find an antidote. But that wasn't an option—not in Yunho's world. His father wasn't just any scientist; he was what most people would call a mad scientist, someone whose work was fueled by ambition that knew no bounds, and a curiosity that frequently blurred into obsession.

He conducted experiments that Yunho was certain would be deemed not only "unethical" but outright illegal. And it wasn't just lab rats or insects; he'd crossed lines Yunho couldn't even bear to think about, lines that made Yunho question his father's humanity.

If Yunho's dad ever found out his experiment had turned his own son into something other, something superhuman, he wouldn't hesitate to tear him apart to understand it. Yunho's father would see him as nothing more than a successful experiment, a breakthrough to be dissected and tested. And if he found out Yunho was Spider-Man? That he'd become something his father dreamed of creating? Yunho shivered just imagining the lengths his father might go to uncover the secret.

In his father's world, Yunho would become the property of science—no longer his own person, but a specimen.

There was no one Yunho feared more, no villain more sinister in his mind, than his own father. The man reminded him of every trait of the Green Goblin—the ruthlessness, the ambition, the utter disregard for anyone or anything that stood in the way of his so-called "progress." His father was capable of horrific things, and Yunho knew if his Spider-Man powers ever became known, they would become just another tool for his father's dangerous research.

And as for the spiders—the ones Yunho had seen in that dark, foreboding room where his transformation began? Every single one of them had mysteriously died not long after Yunho's incident. It was as if their sole purpose had been to transform him and then... simply vanish, erasing any traces of the experiment. But even so, Yunho knew that the experiments, the syringes, the toxins his father kept were still there, waiting, ready to be used in ways Yunho couldn't imagine.

If the knowledge of his powers ever fell into the wrong hands—especially his father's—the world would be... completely, utterly FUCKED.

Later that evening, after the tension from earlier had faded, Yunho found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the big TV, right between Mingi's legs. The two of them were locked in an intense game of Valorant , the living room alive with the sound of rapid gunfire and character quips blasting from the speakers. Yunho was practically bouncing as he leaned forward, completely absorbed in the match, and Mingi was right there behind him, one arm casually wrapped around Yunho's waist, holding him steady every time he got too excited and threatened to topple forward.

This was normal for them—a ritual of sorts. Gaming nights had always been their way of unwinding together, an excuse to get close without thinking too much about it. To Mingi, it was nothing new. But for Yunho, these moments always stirred something deeper.

"Dude, you're getting too into it!" Mingi teased, laughing as Yunho leaned forward to focus on his next move.

"What? I have to win!" Yunho shot back, his voice laced with determination. He didn't bother to explain how his heart raced every time he felt Mingi's arm pull him back, a reminder of Mingi's closeness, the comforting weight of his hold grounding him in place.

"Just don't lean too far forward, or you'll knock the controller out of my hand again," Mingi said, pulling Yunho back with a slight tug. Yunho laughed, letting himself be drawn back into Mingi's chest, feeling the warmth at his back and trying to ignore the flutter in his chest.

"Fine, fine," Yunho replied, pretending to be annoyed as he tried to refocus on the screen. Mingi's hand stayed steady around his waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against Yunho's shirt.

"Alright, last round, then it's my turn to beat you," Mingi declared confidently, leaning closer so his chin nearly rested on Yunho's shoulder. Yunho's pulse sped up at the nearness, but he kept his focus on the game, determined not to let Mingi know how much this meant to him.

But then Mingi leaned in even closer, whispering with a playful grin, "C'mon, man, you're the one who said you're a pro. Show me how a pro does it."

Yunho's hands slipped on the controller, his character on screen suddenly stumbling. "O-oh, right! Pro moves coming up!" he said, trying to recover both his in-game aim and his composure, which was nearly impossible with Mingi this close, his breath warm against Yunho's neck.

Mingi chuckled, pulling him back once again as Yunho got overly excited, and Yunho gave up on trying to keep a straight face, a goofy grin breaking through as he muttered, "You know, maybe I'm just letting you win."

Mingi laughed, squeezing his waist. "Sure, Yunho. Whatever you need to tell yourself." They laughed together, their voices blending into the late-night quiet

"Dude, you wanna go to the skatepark right now? My parents aren't coming home till late," Mingi suggested with a grin, completely unaware of the internal panic he was triggering in Yunho.

Yunho's heart skipped a beat, nerves tightening his chest. He wasn't just bad at skateboarding—he was practically a disaster on wheels, with an impressive track record of faceplants and bruises. Just the thought of stepping on a board had his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But when he looked over at Mingi, eyes sparkling with excitement, Yunho felt himself wavering.

"Uh... yeah, sure, sounds fun," he heard himself say, doing his best to sound casual. The little voice in his head reminding him of his past wipeouts was drowned out by Mingi's excitement. Because if Mingi wanted him to go, how could he possibly say no?

"You sure?" Mingi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Last time, you said skateboards were just a 'death wish on wheels.'"

Yunho rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to give away just how nervous he was. "Oh, that? I was just joking, you know?" he said with a shaky laugh. "Besides, I think I've grown a bit braver since then."

Mingi grinned and clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit! Let's go! It'll be awesome, I promise."

And so, Yunho found himself a few minutes later at the skatepark, heart pounding as he eyed the ramps and rails around them. Mingi grabbed his board and kicked off effortlessly, gliding across the concrete with a natural ease that Yunho found both impressive and slightly intimidating.

"Come on, Yunho! Just give it a try," Mingi encouraged, riding back over to him. He held out his board, eyebrows raised in challenge. Yunho gulped, gripping the board a bit too tightly as he took a deep breath.

"Okay, just... don't laugh if I eat it," Yunho warned, his face flushed.

"Never," Mingi replied, grinning mischievously. "And if you fall, I'll catch you. How's that?"

Yunho felt his face heat up even more at that, but he managed a nod, stepping onto the board with shaky confidence.

Yunho took a deep breath, ready to prepare for a familiar clumsy spill... but as he pushed off, something unexpected happened. His balance was perfect, his footing stable and secure, and he started rolling with ease. The board responded to his every subtle movement like it was an extension of his own body. For a second, Yunho just glided forward, stunned at how easy it felt—like he'd been doing this all his life.

Mingi's face lit up as he watched. "Yo! Look at you go!" he cheered, clapping excitedly.

Encouraged, Yunho decided to push his luck a little more. He picked up speed, turning smoothly around the edge of the bowl, and before he knew it, he was trying out a few tricks he'd only ever seen on TV. He crouched down, popping an ollie over a curb like it was nothing, and even threw in a little kickflip, his Spidey reflexes kicking in and guiding him effortlessly.

Mingi's jaw dropped. "Dude! Where did this come from?"

Yunho grinned, feeling a thrill he hadn't felt before. The confidence of Spider-Man surged within him as he approached the half-pipe. Without thinking, he pushed up and soared off the lip, catching air and landing perfectly back on the board, every movement flawless.

He skated back over to Mingi, barely out of breath, heart pounding more from excitement than exertion.

"Okay, seriously, where did you learn that ?" Mingi asked, both impressed and a little suspicious. "I thought you said skateboards were terrifying?"

Yunho chuckled, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Guess I just had it in me all along?" he said, still slightly breathless.

Mingi rolled his eyes, nudging him. "Man, next time, don't hold back on me. We could've been skateboarding pros together!"

Yunho shakily extended a hand forward "You wanna skate on the same board together? I can drive us around"

Mingi excitedly nodded running forward and steppig on Yunho's skateboard behind him

Yunho steadied himself, feeling a spark of excitement as Mingi hopped on the board behind him, gripping Yunho's waist for balance. Their laughter filled the air as Yunho carefully pushed off, his Spidey senses keeping him stable as he guided the skateboard around the empty park.

With Mingi's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Yunho couldn't help but feel his heartbeat quicken. Mingi was close enough that Yunho could feel his breath on the back of his neck, and despite the casual setting, it felt more intimate than any of their previous adventures. Mingi leaned in, giggling, "Man, I didn't know you'd turn into such a pro at this! My own personal chauffeur!"

Yunho chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

They cruised down the path, their shadows dancing on the pavement under the streetlights. Yunho took them over gentle slopes and around turns, his movements so smooth that Mingi trusted him completely, letting out an occasional cheer or whoop as they picked up speed.

"Yo, Yunho!" Mingi shouted playfully. "Take that ramp over there!"

Yunho looked at the ramp ahead, eyes narrowing as a grin spread across his face. "Hang on tight, then!" He shifted his weight, aiming for the ramp with just enough momentum to get some air. They hit the edge and lifted off, soaring for a moment before touching back down smoothly, Mingi letting out an excited yell as they landed.

Mingi laughed, clapping Yunho's shoulder. "That was awesome! We need to do this more often, man. You're... you're full of surprises."

As they slowed to a stop, Yunho glanced over his shoulder, meeting Mingi's eyes. "Yeah... guess you bring it out of me," he said softly, his smile mirroring Mingi's, though a bit more bashful.

(No Yunho that's your Spiderman powers)

Yunho's smile faltered the moment his radio buzzed to life, a sharp crackle cutting through the air. His gaze shot over to the device, his pulse spiking as the message came through: "Assailant, armed, downtown. Location: Alley near Crescent Park, assailant are reaching for the bank."

His breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. The situation was urgent. The man in question wasn't just any criminal—he was dangerous, armed with a gun. And worse, he was close. Very close. Yunho's instincts flared, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

Mingi, still laughing and out of breath from their skateboard tricks, looked at Yunho's sudden change in demeanor. The joy drained from his face as he followed Yunho's gaze to the radio. "What's wrong?" Mingi asked, his voice turning serious as he noticed the tension in Yunho's posture.

Yunho didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he grabbed his skateboard, his hands trembling slightly as he tucked it under his arm. "Mingi, we need to go," he said, his voice tight. The urgency was clear, and though he tried to sound calm, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Mingi's brows furrowed. "What's going on, Yunho? What's wrong?" he pressed, his tone full of concern, his usual playfulness replaced by worry.

Yunho looked him in the eyes, trying to swallow down the panic rising in his throat. He couldn't tell Mingi the truth—not yet. He couldn't risk it. "Just... just trust me, okay? We need to go. Now." His words were laced with enough urgency to finally get Mingi to stop questioning.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho took off toward the edge of the skatepark, his heart already in overdrive. The alley where the assailant had been spotted wasn't far, but it felt like an eternity away as his mind raced. He could already feel the familiar shift in his body—the adrenaline flooding his veins, muscles tightening in preparation.

Mingi hesitated for a second before following after him, confusion still evident on his face. "Yunho, what the hell's going on?" he called, his footsteps quickening to catch up.

Yunho shot him a quick glance over his shoulder, his chest tight as he focused on the task ahead. "I'll explain later. I promise."

Yunho and Mingi jogged back towards Mingi's apartment building, but the moment they reached the front door, Yunho's phone buzzed again. His heart dropped as he read the message that flashed across the screen—an emergency, and this time, it was too close to home. He could already feel the pressure building in his chest, the familiar weight of responsibility settling in.

"Mingi," Yunho said, his voice low and urgent. He grabbed his best friend's shoulder, pulling him to a stop. Mingi turned, looking at him with a frown, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What is it, Yunho? What's going on?" Mingi asked, his voice laced with concern.

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I need you to promise me something." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "Please, stay inside. Don't come out. Not tonight."

Mingi's eyes widened. "What? Dude, come on, what's happening? Are you in trouble?" He tried to reach for Yunho's arm, but Yunho quickly stepped back, his body tensing.

"Mingi," Yunho said, voice almost desperate, "I can't explain it now. But it's dangerous. I just... I need you to stay inside. Promise me."

Mingi hesitated, clearly torn. His eyes darted between Yunho and the building's entrance, instinctively wanting to follow him, but seeing the genuine fear in Yunho's eyes made him pause. It was rare for Yunho to look this serious, this shaken.

"Fine," Mingi finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'll stay inside, okay? But you better explain everything later. All of it." His voice softened, and Yunho could hear the concern in his words.

Yunho nodded quickly, relief flooding through him. He didn't want to leave Mingi like this, but he had no choice. He needed to protect him. Protect them both.

"Stay safe, Mingi. Please." Yunho's voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his own fear creeping in. He didn't wait for Mingi's reply. Without another word, he turned and sprinted down the street, his body already shifting into the familiar rhythm of Spider-Man.

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, watching his best friend disappear into the night, heart pounding. Something wasn't right, but he trusted Yunho—he had to. Secrets aren't always free, they come with a cost.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and entered the building, locking the door behind him. As much as he wanted to chase after Yunho, he knew deep down that his best friend had his reasons. But the unease lingered. Something was about to happen, and Mingi wasn't sure he was ready for whatever that was.

Yunho's heart raced as he approached the scene, his mind focused on one thing: getting inside without being seen. The bank's front doors were wide open, and he could hear shouts and the sharp crack of gunshots echoing through the street. The robbers were inside, and by the sound of it, things had already escalated.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho climbed up the side of a nearby building, his fingers finding the familiar grooves in the brick. He reached the roof in seconds, his mind already calculating the best angle of entry. He crouched low, preparing himself for whatever awaited below.

There were four robbers inside, all armed, two of them pacing near the front, the other two near the vault. People were shouting, trying to shield themselves, but it was clear the robbers weren't taking any chances. They weren't here for money—they were here to send a message.

With a deep exhale, Yunho swung down from the rooftop, his body twisting midair as he landed lightly on the top of a nearby column. The robbers didn't even see it coming.

He dropped to the floor with cat-like precision, webbing one of the robbers to the wall before he could even blink. The man struggled, his gun falling to the ground with a loud clatter. Yunho wasted no time, kicking the second robber in the stomach, and sending him crashing into a nearby table.

"Stay down," Yunho muttered, glancing around. He was already forming a plan to take the other two down, but his body burned with the effort. The adrenaline was a rush, but his senses were stretched thin. He needed to be faster.

One of the robbers, a large man in a leather jacket, whipped around, firing a shot that Yunho barely dodged. The bullet grazed his side, the sharp pain flaring through his ribs as he stumbled back. He bit his lip, pushing past the pain, refusing to let it slow him down.

"Damn," Yunho muttered under his breath, his side throbbing as blood began to seep through the fabric of his suit. He was going to need to be more careful.

The robber with the gun advanced, aiming it directly at Yunho. He barely had time to react. Yunho leapt forward, attempting to kick the gun out of his hands, but the man was quicker, slamming the barrel of the gun into Yunho's shoulder. Pain exploded through his arm, but Yunho gritted his teeth, twisting his body to bring a fist crashing into the robber's jaw.

The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, but before Yunho could capitalize on it, another robber lunged at him from behind, swinging a metal pipe. It struck Yunho square in the back, and a sharp cry of pain escaped his lips as he crashed into the floor. The wind was knocked out of him, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"You're not so tough, Spider-Man," the robber sneered, kicking him in the ribs.

Yunho's mind buzzed with pain, but he could hear the faint sound of sirens approaching. He didn't have much time. He had to finish this, now.

With one swift motion, Yunho threw a webbing blast to the ceiling above, swinging himself out of range just as the man swung the pipe again. He caught his breath, pulling his body upright despite the pain shooting through his back and ribs.

The large robber was still coming, charging at him with brute strength. Yunho's head spun with dizziness, his vision blurring at the edges as blood soaked into his suit. But he couldn't stop. Not now.

Yunho launched himself forward, throwing a series of rapid punches to the man's midsection. The robber grunted, stumbling back, and Yunho followed up with a powerful roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling across the floor.

He wasn't able to savor the moment, though. Another shot rang out, and Yunho turned just in time to see the barrel of a gun aimed at his face.

No...

The world seemed to slow as Yunho's instincts kicked in. He dropped to the side, the bullet grazing his cheek, leaving a bloody streak along his jaw. The force of the near-miss sent a violent jolt through his body, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Gasping for air, he forced himself back up, the pain overwhelming. His ribs were on fire, his muscles screaming for relief, but he couldn't stop. He had to finish this.

With shaky hands, he fired a webbing shot, snagging the gun from the last robber's hand. He pulled it toward him, slamming the man to the ground with a forceful tackle, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. The robber struggled, but Yunho's grip was ironclad, even through the pain.

Panting heavily, blood dripping from several cuts and bruises, Yunho stood, barely able to keep himself upright. His suit was torn in several places, and the throbbing in his side was unbearable.

But he didn't stop. Not until every one of the robbers was webbed to the floor, incapacitated, waiting for the police to arrive.

The sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Yunho pulled himself together, staggering toward the exit, but before he could make it out, his vision blurred again, dizziness overtaking him.

With a final glance at the now-secured robbers, Yunho pulled himself up, his bloodied hand gripping the wall for support as he limped toward the window.

Yunho's father would be home tonight, he couldn't afford to go home, not in this state. Quickly he typed a message to his mother

"Staying at Mingi's tonight, love you Mom"

Yunho hit send, his fingers trembling as he leaned against the window frame, taking in a shaky breath. He could barely keep his eyes open; everything around him felt like it was spinning. His side was on fire, each movement sending sharp pangs through his chest, but he couldn't afford to collapse here. His father would never let him live it down if he was found in this condition.

Taking one last look at the robbers, who were now completely immobilized by his webs, Yunho forced himself to stand upright, his legs like jelly beneath him. The sirens were getting closer, but he needed to get out before anyone saw him.

He pushed off the frame and wobbled to the edge of the building, looking down to see how far the drop was. It wasn't far—a perfect distance for a web swing. But the dizziness was making his head spin, and the pain in his body was nearly overwhelming. Still, he couldn't afford to waste time.

With a steadying breath, Yunho shot a web at a nearby building, using the momentum to propel himself into the air. His body swayed, every twist and turn sending waves of nausea through him. He could feel his muscles protesting with every move, but he kept going, pushing himself further and further from the scene.

When he finally made it to Mingi's building, he didn't swing into the window like he usually did. Instead, he carefully climbed up the side of the building, his strength already spent, before collapsing onto the balcony. The pain was almost unbearable now, but he had to make it inside.

Yunho knocked softly on Mingi's window, wincing as the movement caused his side to flare up with agony. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, but there was no way he could hide it. He had to tell Mingi the truth.

He was lightheaded, barely able to keep his balance, but somehow, he managed to stay upright long enough for Mingi to appear.

"Yunho?! What the hell?!" Mingi's eyes widened as he saw his best friend standing there, drenched in blood and barely able to hold himself up. His mind raced—how had Yunho gotten this hurt? What was he doing up here?

Without thinking, Mingi threw open the window, pulling Yunho inside with more urgency than Yunho expected. His best friend's hands were shaking as they helped him stumble toward the couch.

"Mingi, I—" Yunho began, but Mingi immediately cut him off, his eyes frantic.

"Don't say anything. What the hell happened to you? How are you even standing?!" Mingi's voice cracked as he sat Yunho down, clearly panicked. "I'm calling an ambulance. No, wait, you look like you've been shot! Yunho, you—what happened?!"

Yunho leaned back on the couch, gritting his teeth against the pain as Mingi moved to grab his phone. "Mingi, stop. No ambulance. Don't call anyone." Yunho's voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. "Please. I can't have anyone know."

Mingi stopped in his tracks, looking at him like he was crazy. "What? Are you out of your mind? You're bleeding out, Yunho! I'm not just gonna—"

Yunho winced, his hand clutching his side where the gunshot wound was throbbing. "Please," he said again, quieter this time. "I'll be fine... just... don't call anyone, okay?"

Mingi was still frozen for a moment, staring at his best friend like he couldn't understand how this happened. The blood, the injuries, Yunho sitting here with a gunshot wound—and Mingi still didn't have the full picture. What kind of life was Yunho living that led to something like this?

"Dude," Mingi said slowly, his eyes searching Yunho's face. "You're covered in blood and you're not telling me what's going on. I've known you my whole life, but I've never seen you like this. What the hell do you mean, 'don't call anyone'? You're seriously freaking me out right now."

Yunho closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening as he considered how much to say. He couldn't exactly tell Mingi the truth—there was no way he could. His secret had to stay just that, a secret. But the truth was, he hated keeping things from Mingi. Mingi was his best friend, his person. But Spider-Man wasn't something he could share. Not yet.

"I just... I can't explain it right now," Yunho said, his voice heavy with regret. "Just trust me, Mingi, please. I'll be okay, I just need to rest."

Mingi looked at him, his lips trembling as he tried to process what was happening. He didn't understand. He couldn't. No one could. Yunho had always been a bit of a mystery, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

"But... but you're hurt, man. Badly. You're telling me not to call anyone?!" Mingi's voice rose in frustration and fear. "What happened? Was it... was it a fight? Were you attacked? Who did this to you?"

Yunho swallowed, his throat dry. His eyes flickered around the room, not meeting Mingi's. "It... it doesn't matter. It's over. The robbers are taken care of, okay?" He winced as he tried to sit up straight, but his body protested with sharp pain. "It's just... one of those things. I'm fine, I'm really fine."

Mingi didn't seem convinced. He sat next to Yunho, his face a mixture of worry and disbelief. "I don't get it. Why are you covered in blood? Why are you lying to me right now? I don't understand..."

Mingi suddenly stood up already reaching towards the door "I'm calling my mom, seriously. This isn't just some—"

Before Mingi could even finish his sentence, Yunho's hand shot out, his fingers moving faster than Mingi could react. With a flick of his wrist, a web shot across the room, wrapping around Mingi's wrist like a vice grip.

Mingi yelped, stumbling forward as he was yanked back with surprising force. His balance faltered, and before he could stop it, he twirled mid-air like a dancer caught in a gust of wind, his legs twisting around as if he were some sort of gravity-defying acrobat.

"Yunho?! What the—"

Before Mingi could finish the sentence, he crashed down onto Yunho's lap with a soft, surprised grunt. Yunho, already struggling to sit up from his injuries, instinctively caught him, his chest tightening as Mingi's weight pressed down on him.

"See?" Yunho's voice was strained but a bit breathless from the effort. He gritted his teeth, raising his shirt just enough to show Mingi the wounds.

The blood was still there, staining his shirt, but as Mingi looked closer, the marks seemed to be... healing. The gashes were closing up, the skin rapidly knitting together before their eyes, leaving only faint scars as evidence of the damage.

Mingi's breath hitched. "You—" he started, his voice trembling as his gaze flicked from the wounds to Yunho's face, searching for some explanation that made sense.

But before Mingi could finish his thought, Yunho moved. With a sudden urgency, he grabbed Mingi's face and pulled him in, closing the distance between them in a rush. He didn't think. Didn't pause. He just kissed Mingi, hard and fast, pressing his lips to his in a desperate surge of emotions.

Mingi froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it, the force of Yunho's kiss leaving him breathless. The world around them blurred—his confusion, the danger, the overwhelming fear—all disappeared for that brief, stolen moment.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, and his thoughts were jumbled, too fast to process. The kiss was rough, filled with raw emotion, like he was trying to pour everything he was into it—everything he had kept hidden for so long. If Mingi was going to find out he was Spider-Man, if this was the moment where all of Yunho's secrets came crashing down, then maybe, just maybe, it was time to let him know everything.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind. His breath hitched as he kissed Mingi, the pressure of it almost desperate as if he were pouring everything—every secret, every fear, every part of himself he'd kept locked away—into the moment. It was reckless, unguarded, like he couldn't hold back anymore, like the floodgates were open and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.

Mingi, for a split second, seemed to freeze, his hands stiff against Yunho's chest as the kiss deepened. Then, against the heat of Yunho's lips, he mumbled, almost too quietly to hear, "You're Spider-Man..."

Yunho's breath caught. It was as if Mingi had ripped the truth from his chest without even trying. But instead of pulling away, Yunho's grip tightened, his long fingers curling around Mingi's neck, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. "Shut up," he muttered, his voice low and strained, a rough edge creeping into it. He leaned in even more, pressing Mingi back against him, pulling him deeper into the kiss, almost as if he could swallow the words, erase the question before it fully registered.

His other hand slid into Mingi's hair, tugging gently, fingers threading through the strands as he deepened the kiss further. The heat between them intensified a tangle of lips and breath, a collision of everything Yunho had tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn't care about the consequences anymore, didn't care about the secrets or the pain that might come. For this moment, it was just them—no masks, no lies, no barriers.

Mingi's hands moved, hesitant at first, unsure, but then they found their way to Yunho's chest, fingers brushing against the bloodstained fabric of his shirt. He could feel the rapid pulse beneath Yunho's skin, the fast thrum of a heartbeat that told him just how real this was, how raw the emotions were between them.

Yunho's kiss grew fiercer, more insistent, like he was trying to make Mingi feel all of it—everything he was, everything he had been hiding. But at that moment, he wasn't Spider-Man. He wasn't the broken, damaged hero with secrets and lies. He was just Yunho, the boy who loved Mingi more than anything in the world.

And as Mingi's fingers curled into his shirt, as he melted into the kiss, Yunho's chest ached with the weight of it all. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe Mingi would understand, maybe he wouldn't. But Yunho couldn't hold back anymore. Not now.

He pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing against Mingi's in soft, breathless whispers. "I didn't want to tell you like this. But... you're right. I'm Spider-Man." The words felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, but when Mingi didn't pull away, didn't recoil in fear or confusion, Yunho felt a small sense of relief.

Mingi, still catching his breath, looked at him with wide eyes. "You're serious?"

Yunho gave a shaky nod, his hands still gently holding Mingi's face, his thumb brushing over his cheek as he searched for any sign of understanding. "I'm serious, Mingi. I never meant for you to get caught up in all this, but... I couldn't keep hiding it from you anymore. You deserve to know the truth."

For a moment, Mingi didn't say anything. He just stared at Yunho, his eyes searching his face for any sign that this was some sort of joke. But the sincerity in Yunho's gaze told him everything. This was real.

But then, confusion and something else—hurt?—flashed in Mingi's eyes, and he pulled back, breaking their connection. He stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "No, you idiot..." Mingi's voice was shaky, a bit higher than usual, as he locked eyes with Yunho. "The kiss... why?" His gaze was intense, demanding answers that Yunho wasn't entirely sure how to give.

Yunho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His heart ached at the uncertainty in Mingi's voice, but he couldn't just brush it off. The kiss—why had he done it? It hadn't been planned. He hadn't thought it through. It had just happened in the heat of the moment, driven by something deeper than logic. Something that had been festering inside him for so long.

"I... I don't know," Yunho admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest as Mingi's voice grew louder, more frustrated. "You just kissed me and you don't know?!" Mingi's words hit him harder than he expected. The anger and confusion were clear on his face, but there was something else beneath it all—hurt, maybe, or fear. Yunho's throat tightened, unsure how to navigate this. He had expected Mingi to be more focused on the revelation of his secret identity, but instead, Mingi was fixated on the kiss.

Yunho took a step forward, reaching out but hesitating as he saw Mingi step back, the space between them growing wider. "Mingi... I—"

"Seriously, Yunho?" Mingi cut him off, his voice shaking with emotion. "You kissed me. I'm trying to figure out why. What do you expect me to think? Do you think I'm just supposed to... what, be okay with this?"

Yunho swallowed hard. He had never seen Mingi like this, so hurt and angry . It made him feel like the floor was falling beneath him. "Mingi, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just... it's not about that kiss. It's—" Yunho paused, trying to gather his thoughts. His mind was racing, each word feeling like it might send Mingi even further away. He tried again, softer this time, "It's not just about the kiss. It's about everything. Everything I've been hiding."

Mingi's face flickered with confusion. "Then why does the kiss matter so much to you, Yunho?" He shook his head in disbelief, unable to understand what was going on in Yunho's mind. "What do you want from me?"

Yunho took a shaky breath, his own frustration beginning to boil over. This wasn't the way he had imagined it. "I want you to understand. To know that... I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't plan for any of it. But Mingi—" His voice faltered, the weight of his own emotions catching up to him. "But I've been in love with you for so long, I—"

"What?" Mingi blinked, stunned, taking a step back as though the words hit him like a physical blow. "What the hell are you talking about?" His voice wavered, unsure whether to be angry or hurt, but his eyes were wide, searching Yunho's face for any sign that he was joking.

Yunho stood there, his breath coming in quick bursts. His hands shook, but this time, he didn't hide them. He dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to steady himself, but it was useless. His chest felt like it was caving in. "I've loved you. All these years. And I've been hiding it— hiding me —from you. Because I didn't want to ruin what we had. I didn't want to make things... complicated."

"So kissing me doesn't make things complicated??" Mingi sarcastically asked

Yunho's heart hammered in his chest as Mingi's words struck him with a cold, sharp sting. The sarcasm in Mingi's voice felt like a slap, the weight of it making his chest tighten. He blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over, the raw emotion threatening to drown him.

Mingi's words kept replaying in his mind, making him feel smaller and smaller. So kissing me doesn't make things complicated? It was as if Mingi had opened a floodgate, and now every regret, every fear Yunho had been trying to suppress was crashing over him. He had ruined everything—everything that had been so perfect between them.

"Why are you more fixated on the kiss than me being the city's superhero?" Yunho tried to joke, his voice strained, almost breathless from the weight of everything he hadn't said before. It was his usual coping mechanism—joking when the world was falling apart around him—but it felt hollow now. Too empty. Too forced.

Mingi didn't laugh. Instead, his gaze hardened, and Yunho felt his stomach twist. "Yunho... fuck you being Spider-Man. That's a conversation for later." His voice shook slightly, his frustration turning into something deeper, more confused. "But my best friend of 13 years just fucking told me he likes me... How do I NOT fixate on that?"

The words hit Yunho like a wave, crashing over him with an overwhelming force. His heart slammed in his chest, louder than his thoughts, drowning him in a sea of confusion. Mingi's eyes were wide with disbelief, his face still etched with that mixture of shock and anger, but there was something else there now too—something more vulnerable. It was like a crack in the wall Mingi had built around himself, and Yunho could see it, feel it, even if Mingi wasn't saying it outright.

Yunho's breath hitched. "Mingi, I—" He wanted to explain, to make it make sense, but words failed him again. How could he explain something that felt so simple, yet so complicated all at once? How could he make Mingi see that all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed, was him? But now, with everything so raw, it felt like the worst possible time to open up.

"I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this," Yunho continued quietly, voice thick with regret. "Im sorry for kissing you without asking"

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, clearly at a loss, his chest rising and falling as he processed the weight of what Yunho had just confessed. There was a long silence, thick with uncertainty. Yunho felt exposed, like he had bared his soul to Mingi, only for Mingi to look at him like a puzzle he didn't know how to solve.

"I liked how your lips felt on mine" Mingi mumbled, not sure of his own self

Yunho's heart nearly stopped at Mingi's words. He felt like the ground had shifted beneath him, and for a moment, everything around him disappeared. The weight of Mingi's confession, soft and uncertain, hit him harder than anything else. I liked how your lips felt on mine —those words were a spark in the dark, a glimpse of something he hadn't dared to hope for. But there was still a hesitation in Mingi's voice, an uncertainty that Yunho could feel like a tangible weight between them.

"Mingi," Yunho breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His chest ached, torn between the joy of hearing that and the fear of what it meant. "Are you—are you saying...?"

Mingi's gaze flickered, his eyes avoiding Yunho's, as if he couldn't quite meet his gaze. "I don't know what to say," he mumbled, frustration and confusion clouding his features. "This is all just... too much. You're my best friend. I've known you for years, Yunho. I can't just... figure this out in a second."

"But the thought of you loving me, me loving you back... spending my whole life with you, not as just my best friend, but as someone more—someone I care about in a way I can't quite explain—feels exhilarating," Mingi continued, his words flowing with an honesty that made Yunho's heart skip a beat.

Yunho's eyes widened as the gravity of Mingi's confession sunk in. His pulse raced, a mixture of disbelief and relief rushing through him. He feels the same? The thought seemed impossible, but Mingi's words, though shaky, were undeniable.

"Mingi," Yunho whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "are you saying... that you—"

Mingi cut him off, running a hand through his hair, his gaze still averted as he processed everything. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to understand it. But... I can't deny that there's something there. Something I didn't want to admit to myself, i've always felt there was some tension between us, we were too intimate to just be best friends i doubted my own self with you sometimes, it's like i wanted you to be just with me, just mine"

Yunho's heart skipped a beat as Mingi's words sunk in, each syllable feeling like a slow, deliberate strike to his chest. His breath hitched, and he stepped closer, unable to tear his eyes away from Mingi's conflicted expression. This was it—the moment where everything changed, where the unspoken tension between them began to unravel in the rawest way possible.

"Mingi," Yunho murmured again, the words trembling in his throat, "you've always felt that way? You—"

"Yeah," Mingi interrupted, his voice a little firmer now, though still tinged with uncertainty. His hand dropped from his hair, and he met Yunho's gaze for the first time, his eyes conflicted but searching. "I've always felt like there was something between us, but I... I didn't know how to handle it. It was easier to just keep pretending everything was normal. That we were just best friends. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho. I can't pretend I don't feel... this ." He gestured between them, the air thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings.

Yunho's pulse raced, each beat pounding in his ears. He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing the side of Mingi's arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his touch. It was as though his entire body was responding to the energy between them, something long dormant now waking up with an intensity that left him breathless.

"So... you mean you've wanted...?" Yunho's words faltered, the weight of the question too much to fully voice. His heart was beating faster now, faster than he thought possible. It was like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, his entire future stretched out before him.

Mingi nodded, his jaw clenched in a mixture of frustration and something else Yunho couldn't quite place. "Yeah, I've wanted you. I didn't want to admit it, but... every time I saw you with someone else, it felt like something inside of me snapped. Like I wanted you to be mine in a way that wasn't just as a friend. And I hated that. I didn't want to feel like that." His voice softened, vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his usually guarded demeanor. "I didn't want to complicate things. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho."

Yunho swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the words, the confession that felt like it had been a long time coming. He stepped closer, feeling the proximity between them charge the air with an intensity he could hardly breathe through.

"I never wanted to complicate things either, Mingi," Yunho said, his voice almost too quiet. His hand, still on Mingi's arm, gently tugged him closer. "But the truth is... I've wanted you too. For a long time. I just didn't know how to say it."

Mingi's lips parted in surprise, his eyes wide as he processed Yunho's words. For a moment, there was a kind of stillness between them, as if the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of them standing there in the middle of it all. The weight of everything—years of hidden feelings, uncertainty, longing—hung between them like a fragile thread.

And then, before Yunho could second-guess himself, Mingi closed the gap between them. His lips met Yunho's in a kiss that was everything they had both been holding back—sweet, messy, uncertain, but undeniably real. It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't soft either. It was a kiss filled with all the things they had been afraid to say, and now, in this moment, there was no more room for fear.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Yunho couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension in his chest easing for the first time. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's been feeling this," he said, his voice shaky but full of relief.

Mingi smiled, his eyes still searching Yunho's face as if to confirm that this wasn't a dream. "Yeah," he whispered, his tone low and hesitant but filled with something Yunho had never heard from him before. "Yeah, me too."

"But im scared Yuyu, very scared, it's like this moment feels like water slipping between my fingers, it's like we wont last long and then ill lose the very person i loved so much, you're my best friend, i have no one other than you"

Yunho's heart clenched at Mingi's words, the vulnerability in his voice pulling him in deeper than anything else had before. He could feel the weight of Mingi's fears pressing down on him, and it was as though Mingi's confession was a mirror of his own. He had always feared this moment too—the fear that whatever they had between them would slip away, just like water between fingers, and leave them broken. But hearing it from Mingi, the person who meant the most to him, made the fear seem so much more real.

Yunho cupped Mingi's face gently, his thumb brushing along his cheek in a soft, steady rhythm. "Mingi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm scared too. I'm terrified, actually. I'm scared that what we have will be too much for us, that we won't be able to make it. But I'm not going to run away from this. Not from you."

Mingi's eyes searched his, full of doubt and confusion, but also longing, as if he wanted to believe him but wasn't sure how.

Yunho took a deep breath, his forehead resting gently against Mingi's. "We've been through so much together, right? We've known each other for so long. And if anyone can handle this, it's us. I know we're scared. But I'm willing to face that fear with you, Mingi. Because I can't lose you either. Not as my best friend, not as anything."

Mingi blinked, a tear slipping down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning back to Yunho with a soft, shaky smile. "It's just... I've never had anyone else like you, Yunho. I've never trusted anyone like I trust you. And if we try this... if we make this change... I don't know if I can handle losing that trust. Losing you."

Yunho leaned in, pressing his lips to Mingi's forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "You won't lose me, Mingi. I'm not going anywhere. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this—whatever happens, we'll face it together. We'll be together. You're not alone in this, okay? I'm here."

Mingi closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he rested his head against Yunho's chest. "I want to believe that. I do."

Yunho hugged him tighter, his arms wrapping around him as if to hold onto this moment—this fragile, beautiful thing that they had just stepped into. He knew things wouldn't be easy. They never were. But as long as they had each other, there was hope. They had always been best friends, but now they were something more. And no matter how much fear there was, no matter how much uncertainty lay ahead, Yunho was willing to face it, as long as Mingi was by his side.

"I'm not going anywhere," Yunho whispered again, his voice steady now. "I promise."

Mingi rested his head on Yunho's shoulder

"So Spiderman do you cum spiderweb"

Yunho felt a sudden rush of warmth flood his face, his cheeks burning as Mingi's words hit him with an unexpected burst of humor. It was like the tension in the air shifted in that instant, his heart slowing, his breath catching in laughter despite the raw emotions still swirling between them.

"Seriously, Mingi?" Yunho groaned, his face buried in his hands for a moment before he shot Mingi a half-annoyed, half-amused glare. "You had to bring that up right now?"

Mingi was grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was something else there too—something soft and vulnerable that Yunho hadn't seen in a while. It was as if the joke was his way of easing into this new, unfamiliar space they were in together, and Yunho couldn't help but smile at that.

"I couldn't resist," Mingi said with a laugh, leaning back just enough to meet Yunho's gaze. "Come on, man, you've been hiding this whole Spider-Man thing from me for weeks, and now we're here i need answers"

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to mask the nervous energy bubbling inside him.

"I didn't have time to check," he said, the words coming out too casually.

Mingi's expression faltered for a second, his brow furrowing as he processed Yunho's response. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he shook his head with a sigh, clearly amused but also a little frustrated. "You really do have a thing for awkward jokes, don't you?"

Yunho shifted slightly, his fingers tapping on the side of his jeans, avoiding Mingi's gaze as the words tumbled out. "So... uh, I mean, if, you know, you're not too weirded out by all this... and if you don't mind, maybe... I could be your boyfriend?"

Yunho winced internally at his choice of words. It wasn't exactly the grand confession he had imagined in his head. In fact, it was embarrassingly awkward, and for a moment, he wished he could disappear into the floor.

Mingi blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait, what?" He leaned forward, brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you... seriously asking me that?"

Yunho's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his eyes darting everywhere but Mingi's face. "Yeah... I mean, I've been kind of a mess for, like, years now," he said, his voice low but genuine. "But I think... maybe we could try this? As more than friends, I mean. I really like you, Mingi. Like, a lot. So, yeah, maybe we can... give it a shot?"

Mingi stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Yunho could feel every second stretch out in the air, each passing moment building his embarrassment like a balloon ready to pop.

Finally, Mingi let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a loser, you know that?" He reached out, giving Yunho's shoulder a gentle shove, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, it was playful, affectionate.

Yunho groaned, covering his face with his hands again. "I knew it was bad. I'm sorry. Forget I—"

Mingi cut him off by grabbing his hands, pulling them away from his face so Yunho was forced to look at him. "No, idiot," Mingi said, his tone gentle but teasing. "You're not a loser. You're just... bad at this."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, the tension in his chest loosening. "So... that means?"

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "It means," he began, his lips curling into a smile, "I think I can handle being your boyfriend. Even if you're a total dork about it."

Yunho's face lit up with a grin, relief flooding through him. He felt like he could finally breathe again. "So... does this mean you'll accept my loser-ass?" he asked, trying to keep it light, but his heart was racing now, hope filling every inch of him.

Mingi shrugged playfully, his grin widening. "I guess. But you've got a lot of making up to do. You owe me, Spidey."

Yunho chuckled, the weight of everything finally starting to lift. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make it up to you. Just... don't ever let me do that again. That was... definitely loser core level awkward."

Mingi laughed, pulling Yunho into a half-hug. "As long as you keep being you, I think I can handle it. Plus, you're cute when you're all flustered."

Yunho smiled, his heart swelling with something he couldn't quite put into words. Maybe he was a bit of a mess. But for the first time, he felt like it might just be okay.

"I can't believe my superhero crush is my boyfriend now," Mingi said with a grin, the words teasing but warm as he settled back into the couch. Yunho laughed, a mix of joy and nerves bubbling up, but before he could respond, the door suddenly slammed open with a deafening force. The sound made both of them jump, and Yunho's stomach dropped.

"Mingi, wait—" Yunho called out instinctively, but Mingi was already moving toward the door, confusion etched on his face.

Mingi swung it open, the soft click of the door handle echoing like a countdown. But what stood in the doorway wasn't a random visitor—it was Yunho's worst nightmare.

Standing in the threshold was none other than Yunho's father. His tall frame filled the doorway, his presence suffocating, carrying the weight of a man whose ambition was matched only by his ruthlessness. Dr. Jeong's eyes, cold and piercing, scanned Yunho with a clinical detachment, like a scientist examining his favorite specimen.

"Yunho," his father's voice rang out, smooth, calm, and chillingly devoid of emotion. It was a voice Yunho had feared all his life. "It seems we have a problem."

Yunho's heart raced, panic flooding through him. His bloodstained clothes, his Spider-Man mask—he could feel his secret unraveling in front of Mingi. His father's gaze dropped immediately to the mask, then to the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt, his eyes narrowing.

"No. No, no, no..." Yunho whispered to himself, horrified. His secret, the thing he'd fought so hard to protect, was slipping away. His mind raced with a singular thought: He can't know. He can't find out.

Mingi, still standing frozen in the doorway, looked between the two men, confused and a little scared. His gaze flickered between Yunho and his father, sensing the tension but not understanding the full picture.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Yunho's voice cracked as he tried to stay calm, to control the rush of fear that threatened to engulf him.

Dr. Jeong didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped inside with the deliberate slowness of someone who was in control, completely aware of the power he held in this moment. His eyes never left Yunho, not even once.

"You think you can hide from me forever?" Dr. Jeong's voice was laced with venom. He took another step forward, and Yunho instinctively took a step back, the weight of his father's gaze pushing down on him. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

Yunho's chest tightened. His father had always been a scientist—a brilliant one—but the kind of scientist who was willing to cross lines most would never dream of. The kind who didn't see boundaries, only possibilities. His experiments, the things he'd done in the name of science, were nothing short of horrifying. And now, Yunho realized with sickening clarity, the truth was out.

"You... you don't know what you're talking about," Yunho managed to choke out. But the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He could feel the panic beginning to take over as his mind raced through all the ways this could go wrong.

Dr. Jeong's lip curled into a sneer. "You think I don't know what's going on, Yunho? Do you really believe you can pull the wool over my eyes? You're my experiment. Do you really think I wouldn't notice the changes?"

Yunho took another step back, his hands trembling as he struggled to hide his Spider-Man mask behind his back. But it was too late.

His father's eyes flared with recognition as he stepped closer, grabbing Yunho by the arm with terrifying force. The grip was unrelenting, like iron, and Yunho couldn't help but wince in pain.

"Stop it!" Yunho tried to jerk away, but his father's hold was too strong, too unyielding. "Let go of me!"

" No. " Dr. Jeong's voice was sharp and commanding, and before Yunho could even comprehend what was happening, his father was pulling him toward the door.

Mingi's voice cracked through the haze of panic. "What the hell is going on, Yunho? What's he doing?"

Yunho's breath caught in his throat. "Mingi... go!" he managed to shout, his heart breaking at the thought of putting Mingi in danger. His mind raced, the thought of his father turning Yunho's powers into his next experiment terrifying beyond measure. There was no telling what his father would do if he figured out Yunho's secret. The thought of becoming nothing more than a specimen in his father's lab—a tool for research—was enough to make Yunho's blood run cold.

"Yunho, what the hell is this?" Mingi called out again, his voice stricken with worry as he reached toward Yunho, but Dr. Jeong pulled him further away, not even sparing Mingi a glance.

"We're going to have a little talk ," Dr. Jeong said, his grip tightening on Yunho's arm as he pulled him toward the door, dragging him like an object to his laboratory. The walls seemed to close in on Yunho as he tried to fight back, to escape, but his father was too strong, and there was nowhere to run.

"Mingi—!" Yunho shouted one last time, but his voice faltered as his father forcibly yanked him out the door and into the cold, clinical world that he'd always feared—the world where he was never truly his own.

His father's lab.

The place where Yunho's humanity could be lost forever.

Yunho's legs were shaky as his father dragged him into the lab, his mind racing to keep up with the horror of it all. The sterile smell of chemicals and metal stung his nose, the sharp, unnerving hum of machines filled the air, and his heart pounded in his chest as if it was trying to escape. The walls were lined with shelves full of glass containers, each one holding something alive, something twisted. It was a place of madness, of experiments, where things no one should even imagine were brought to life and torn apart in the name of "discovery."

Yunho could barely keep his feet underneath him as his father pushed him into the center of the room, a cold, clinical space where even the smallest mistake could cost him everything.

He had to get out. But his body wouldn't cooperate.

His father was quiet for a long moment, standing in front of him with that calculating, detached look in his eyes—the look of a man who saw his son not as a person, but as another piece of his work, another puzzle to solve.

Yunho's pulse hammered in his ears as the questions flooded his mind. The answers were so horrifying, so impossible to process. He had to know. He needed to know.

"What did you mean by... you knew all about this and I'm just a part of your experiment?" Yunho asked, his voice trembling, but his eyes blazing with something fierce. It was the only defense he had left—the only thing he could still control. His body, his breath, his fears... all of that was slipping away, but his voice, his resolve, that he would hold onto for as long as he could.

His father stared at him for a long moment. The look in his eyes was something darker now—something that Yunho couldn't quite place. It was almost as if he were studying Yunho, as if Yunho were just another subject to be analyzed.

"I knew you'd walk into that door the moment you saw it," Dr. Jeong said, his voice steady, controlled, like he was explaining the weather. "I knew that spider would squirt on you the moment it saw you. This was all planned, son."

Yunho's world seemed to tilt on its axis. His father had planned it all? The spiders, the toxic serum, the strange experiments... Yunho's mind reeled as he tried to make sense of it, tried to connect the dots.

"You..." Yunho stammered, his chest tightening with disbelief. His voice cracked, fighting against the rising tide of anger and panic threatening to overwhelm him. "You... you planned this?" His words felt alien, like they didn't belong in his mouth. But his father just nodded, an unsettling calmness in his expression, like the devastation in Yunho's voice didn't even faze him.

"I knew you'd be perfect for it," his father continued, his eyes gleaming with a sickening kind of pride. "I knew you were strong enough to survive. You always were. My son, my greatest achievement." The words sent a chill down Yunho's spine. He knew his father wasn't just talking about the experiments now. He was talking about him . His son, the test subject.

"But—why?" Yunho managed to choke out, his throat tightening with frustration. He couldn't understand, couldn't grasp why his father would do this, why he would sacrifice his own child to further his twisted ambitions. "Why would you do this to me? You... you turned me into this thing!"

Dr. Jeong tilted his head, as if considering the question, like it was some minor puzzle to solve. "Because you were the perfect candidate, Yunho. You were always meant to be part of this. All those years, all that time... it was leading to this. You see, I wanted to push the boundaries, to create something new . Something that could transcend the limitations of the human body, of genetics. And you, my dear son, you were my key. You still are."

Yunho's breath caught in his throat as his father's words settled like ice in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking. He was his father's key to some twisted, horrific dream—a dream that had cost Yunho everything. His father didn't see him as a person. To him, Yunho was just an experiment. A success waiting to happen.

Yunho took a step back, his mind reeling, desperately trying to make sense of the madness surrounding him. "I'm not some... some thing for you to experiment on," Yunho spat, his voice gaining strength despite the fear that threatened to consume him. "I'm not your property. I'm me ."

His father smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was cold, like a predator's. "You can believe whatever you like, Yunho. But the fact remains: you're exactly what I created. And now that I know what you've become... we're going to finish what I started.A man of science, a protector of this filthy city"

Before Yunho could react, his father gestured toward the lab equipment, and Yunho's heart sank as he realized what his father was implying. Finish what he started —it was a terrifying promise, one that sounded like it would involve dissecting Yunho, tearing apart his powers, studying him until there was nothing left.

"No," Yunho whispered, the word slipping out in horror. His hands were shaking harder now. "I won't let you do this. I won't let you turn me into—"

"Into what?" Dr. Jeong cut him off, his voice no longer calm but sharp with excitement, with obsession. "A success? Or perhaps the next step in human evolution? Imagine the possibilities, Yunho. The power you possess... You could change everything." He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with an almost sickly eagerness. "You're special. I made you special."

Yunho's mind was a storm. His father had created him—had orchestrated everything. The spiders, the serum, his powers... it was all part of his father's twisted plan. Yunho felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. He was nothing but a tool in his father's eyes.

And worse, his father was determined to take him further down this path of destruction.

"You'll never control me," Yunho said through gritted teeth, every word defiant.

But his father didn't respond. He only reached for the nearest syringe filled with an iridescent liquid—something familiar, something terrifying.

Yunho's world seemed to narrow to that one vial as his father's grip tightened around it. The sharp click of the needle sliding into place echoed in the cold lab air.

Yunho's pulse quickened. He had to stop him. He had to get away.

"Father... why are you doing this... to me?" Yunho's voice trembled, but he fought to keep his tone steady, trying to mask the desperation clawing at him. His throat was tight, the words catching on the way out, like they weren't even his own.

His father's expression softened for a brief moment, an eerie smile curling on his lips as he took a step closer. It was that look—the one Yunho had seen a thousand times before when his father spoke of his "greatness," of the legacy he was meant to carry. But now, it was different. There was something darker, something more obsessive in his eyes.

"Because of your humanity, Yunho," his father said, his voice disturbingly calm. "I knew if you got the power, you'd use it for good. This power of yours... it's not just a gift. It's a weapon. A weapon to save the world." He stepped closer still, his tone gaining an almost reverent quality as he spoke, as if Yunho's very existence was a validation of his life's work. "The world needs someone like you. You can make a difference. Those police? They don't do shit. They can't save anyone. But you can. I knew it, Yunho. If they had done their job, if they had been paying attention... we wouldn't have lost your sister."

The mention of his sister made Yunho's blood run cold. His stomach twisted into a knot as memories he had buried deep resurfaced. Her laughter, the way she used to pull at his sleeves and beg him to play with her, the way she had disappeared without a trace, and the aftermath—the endless searches, the dead-end investigations, the unanswered questions.

But hearing his father's words—his justification —made Yunho's heart drop. His father was telling him that his power —the very thing that had been forced upon him—was meant to be a means to fix the world, to right some imagined wrong. It made Yunho sick. His father had groomed him, shaped him to be a hero, not for Yunho's own sake, but because his father was too consumed by his own delusions of grandeur to see the truth.

He had always been the "good son," the one who tried to make his father proud, who followed the rules and the expectations. But now, Yunho felt like his father was taking that very humanity he had once praised and twisting it into something else—something monstrous.

"I'm not some... hero ," Yunho spat, his voice shaking with disgust as the words finally broke free. His chest heaved with emotion, the weight of his father's twisted words suffocating him. "I'm not some experiment you can use to fix your mistakes. I never asked for this power. I never asked to be... this." His hand instinctively pressed against the webbing on his palm, the skin burning as the memories of the transformation flashed in his mind. His father's obsession had turned him into a weapon— nothing more .

The sickening truth finally hit Yunho like a punch to the gut: his father didn't see him as a son. He didn't see him as a person. To his father, Yunho was just another step toward his own so-called "progress," another pawn in a game Yunho had never agreed to play. And that made his stomach churn with a mixture of fear and anger that he hadn't felt before.

"You think the power will save the world?" Yunho asked bitterly, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You think I'm some kind of tool to fix things? We lost her because you were too busy playing God with your experiments! And now you're telling me that this —this curse—is the answer?"

His father's gaze darkened, but the glint of pride still lingered in his eyes. "If the police had done their job, you're right—she would still be here. But I could have prevented it all, Yunho. I could have. And now you can too. You're better than they are. You're better than I ever was."

Yunho couldn't breathe. The weight of his father's words was unbearable. His father had always made him believe that his heroism was something to aspire to, that it was his destiny to be the "savior" the world needed. But now, he saw the truth—his father was merely using him as a pawn, a means to an end. The idea that his power was some kind of divine intervention, a way to atone for past mistakes, made him feel like nothing more than an object—a science project that had worked .

Yunho's body slammed against the cold, unforgiving glass of the cage with a sickening thud, his limbs feeling like they were weighed down by invisible chains. He didn't fight back. He should've fought back. He could've fought back—he was Spider-Man, for God's sake. His father was no match for him. He could've thrown him across the room with the flick of his wrist. But in that moment, his body refused to respond. It was as though something inside him had broken, frozen in place by the sheer terror and betrayal that coursed through his veins.

His heartbeat slowed, the rhythmic thump of blood in his ears growing more and more distant, as though he were detached from his own body. Every instinct that told him to run, to fight, to scream—it was all muted, like some unseen force had locked him inside his own skin.

Yunho's breath caught in his throat, the panic bubbling up in the pit of his stomach, but it felt so far away, so unreachable. His body trembled, but it wasn't the kind of trembling that came from fear. No, it was something worse—something deeper. It was the weight of everything he had just learned. The weight of realizing that his father, the man who had raised him, who he had once trusted, saw him not as a son—but as a tool. A project .

He watched helplessly as his father moved toward him with that eerie calm, his hand holding a vial of iridescent liquid, its glow casting sickly reflections across the cold metal lab. The liquid shimmered like some kind of poison, its beauty hiding the horror it contained. It was meant for him. It was meant to change him even more than he already had, to push him further into whatever sick experiment his father had planned for him.

"You were always going to be part of this, Yunho," his father said, his voice thick with something that almost sounded like pride. "The moment you stepped into this lab, I knew you would be the key. You were never meant to be just my son. You were meant to be a vessel— the vessel —for the future."

The words felt like daggers, each one sinking deeper into Yunho's chest. His mind screamed for him to move, to break free, to do something—anything. But his body betrayed him, and his mind felt like it was sinking into a fog. His father wasn't just speaking to him; he was speaking to the experiment . To the thing he had turned Yunho into.

"You're going to be better than anything I've ever made," his father continued, moving closer with the vial in his hand. "This serum... it'll enhance everything. Your strength, your agility—everything will be perfected. You'll be more than just Spider-Man. You'll be unstoppable ."

The vial shimmered as it neared Yunho's face, and he could feel the familiar sting of fear crawling up his spine, but it was as if the emotion was distant now, like it didn't even belong to him. He could still feel the spider-like powers thrumming in his veins, but it felt disconnected, almost numb. It was as though his body was no longer his own.

"Stop," Yunho's voice broke through the fog, weak and strained, but it was there. "Please..."

His father didn't even pause. "You'll thank me for this," he said, his tone flat and mechanical, as though Yunho were nothing more than a subject in his lab, not a person with thoughts, with feelings .

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest, a desperate, panicked rhythm that made his skin burn with cold sweat. His father was moving closer now, the syringe raised, the needle poised to break the skin. He couldn't breathe. The air felt too thick.

Move, move, MOVE!

The thoughts came in a rush, but Yunho's limbs still felt like they were made of stone. You're Spider-Man. You can escape this. You have to fight back.

But then, with a sickening click, the needle pierced his skin, and the cold liquid poured into his veins.

It burned. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, shooting through his bloodstream in a way that made him want to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. His body seemed to tense up involuntarily, the venomous liquid taking hold, coursing through him like fire freezing over his very soul. His mind reeled from the sensation, and for a moment, he thought he was going to black out.

The world around him blurred. His father's voice faded into the background, a distorted echo of a man he no longer recognized.

Yunho screamed louder than he ever had the sheer intensity of the scream shaking his entire body, he felt a black liquid rise up on his body engulfing him like a human inside the black gel of a monster

Yunho's scream tore through the air, a raw, guttural sound that vibrated his very bones. The world spun as pain exploded through his veins, each pulse of agony almost too much to bear. His entire body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, the burning, searing pain now accompanied by something else—something dark, something alive .

He felt it first as a pressure in his chest, an unsettling weight, like a force pulling him into itself. Then, it spread through his limbs, suffocating his senses, crawling under his skin like tendrils, twisting and writhing. It was something primal, something other , something that didn't belong inside him. It felt like a living thing—like a monster was growing inside his very body.

" No... " Yunho gasped, his voice cracking with fear. He tried to claw at his skin, to tear it off, to rip out whatever this was that had latched onto him. But his hands were shaking, his vision blurred with the overwhelming pain and fear.

The black liquid began to seep out from beneath his skin, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, spreading across his body in a terrifying, viscous tide. It pooled in his hands, dripped down his legs, and crawled up his neck, spreading like a suffocating shadow. It was cold. Too cold. It felt like it was eating him alive, filling him up from the inside out, drowning him in its dark embrace.

Yunho couldn't breathe. The pressure in his chest grew heavier, suffocating him, pushing against his lungs. His heart hammered in his chest, erratic and desperate as if fighting against the impossible force.

What is this? His mind screamed, but the answer was too horrifying to accept.

He could feel it— the symbiote . It's alive. It moved inside him like a predator, a beast, its presence both suffocating and alien. His entire body felt like it was no longer his own. He wasn't just Yunho anymore; he was something else. Something... monstrous.

His mind struggled to hold on to himself, to fight against the alien consciousness that seemed to pulse within the symbiote. It was coiled inside him, and it was speaking to him, though not with words. It was more like a presence, a feeling , a silent, all-encompassing thought, telling him that it had always been waiting for this moment.

But his father's voice cut through the suffocating fog of his mind, distorted, cold, and calculating, like the twisted reflection of someone he once knew.

"You're mine now, Yunho," his father said, his voice low and almost gleeful. "This power you have, it's just the beginning. Together, you and the symbiote will change the world. You'll fix everything."

Yunho's head snapped up, his vision finally clearing, but what he saw wasn't what he expected. His reflection in the glass cage was warped, distorted—no longer just Yunho. The black liquid that clung to his body wasn't just dark; it was alive . It pulsed with an unnatural, sickening energy, shifting and writhing like it was about to break free from his skin. He could feel it moving beneath his flesh, spreading its influence over him. The symbiote had taken hold.

But it wasn't just taking over his body—it was reaching into his mind, coiling around his thoughts, feeding on his fear, his anger, his confusion. And for a terrifying moment, Yunho could feel his identity slipping away, being replaced by the thing that had invaded him.

"No..." Yunho whispered, trying to pull himself together, to fight it off. But the symbiote was too strong. It was as if the darkness inside him had grown arms and legs, claws digging into his consciousness, suffocating every last shred of himself. His emotions were becoming distorted—his rage, his fear, his despair —all being twisted by the symbiote's influence.

And then, it spoke to him— its voice .

You don't need to fight. You don't need to feel weak anymore. With me, you are unstoppable.

Yunho's breath came in ragged gasps as his vision began to cloud with black spots. His hands clenched into fists, the black substance flowing like liquid fire over his skin, but it wasn't painful anymore. It was... powerful .

You'll be the hero you were always meant to be. A hero who can never be stopped.

Terror gripped Yunho's chest, and for a moment, he wanted to scream—to claw at the walls of the cage, to do anything to break free. But then, something inside him flickered—a memory. A promise.

I won't let you control me.

His father stood there, oblivious to the battle raging inside his own son, too lost in his own delusions of grandeur to realize what was happening.

Yunho's chest heaved as the black liquid began to solidify around him, forming a sleek, dark armor that covered his body, its tendrils stretching and shifting with an unsettling life of their own. His breath came in slow, controlled bursts now, despite the whirlwind of thoughts crashing inside his mind. He wasn't fully in control yet, but he wasn't fully lost either.

And in that moment, Yunho knew one thing for sure— he had to escape . He had to stop his father, stop this twisted experiment before it consumed him completely. But more than that—he had to figure out who he was now .

Because he wasn't just Yunho anymore.

And neither was the world.

Everything around Yunho faded into darkness as the black symbiote that had taken over his body seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving him disoriented. His body felt as if it were melting into the floor, the overwhelming heat pulsing through him like a living furnace. He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling erratically as sweat drenched his skin. His head spun with the remnants of the transformation, the agony of it still fresh, lingering beneath his skin.

Then, everything went still.

Yunho woke with a start, gasping for air, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. The heat was unbearable, suffocating, as if his very skin was on fire. He shot up from the bed, his limbs trembling uncontrollably as he looked around, disoriented. The room was dim, the light harsh against his already-sensitive eyes. Everything felt wrong , like he was no longer in his own body, like his mind had splintered into pieces that refused to fit together.

His breathing was ragged, desperate, as he stumbled out of the bed and onto the cold, tiled floor, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands—his once familiar hands—shook violently, the black tendrils of the symbiote still crawling beneath his skin, reminding him of its presence.

Then, he heard a voice.

"Good morning, son."

Yunho's eyes snapped up to find his father standing at the door, his presence as imposing as ever, but Yunho could only see the monster he truly was now. His father held a glass of water, the offer seeming almost pathetic in comparison to the storm inside Yunho's chest. His eyes flicked to his father's hand, the delicate glass shimmering in the morning light, and something inside Yunho snapped.

"Shut up," he growled, his voice coming out raw and hollow. Before his father could react, Yunho slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it on the floor. The sound was deafening, echoing through the house, but Yunho barely noticed. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, from trembling like leaves in the wind. His body felt like it was waging war against itself.

His father didn't even flinch at the outburst. He merely tilted his head slightly, watching Yunho with a calculating, almost pleased expression, as if he expected this reaction. He didn't speak, didn't move. His cold eyes studied Yunho like a specimen, like something he was in control of.

From the kitchen, his mother flinched, her face paling as she peeked into the room. She hadn't seen her son like this— not like this . The way he looked now was... terrifying. His eyes were completely different, dilated to an unnatural size, the once familiar warm brown now replaced by a dark, inky blackness, swirling with something that didn't belong in him. They were hollow, empty, almost dead .

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her son—her sweet boy —had always been different, but now, there was something about him that wasn't human. He looked like a shadow of himself, like he was hanging on to some fragile thread of sanity, teetering on the edge of losing it completely.

His hair, once soft and dark, now seemed straighter, almost slick with some unnatural sheen, darker than before. It hung in a messy curtain around his face, framing the distorted expression on his features. His lips were twisted into something close to a sneer, but it was more than just anger—it was insanity . His face was gaunt, marked with deep, bruising dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days, if not weeks.

Yunho's breath hitched as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror across the room. His face—his own face —was barely recognizable, as if the boy he used to be had been replaced with something new, something monstrous.

His mother stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide in fear. "Yunho..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "What happened to you?"

"Ask your asshole of a husband" he spat angrily and walked away ready to get ready for school

The door slammed behind him as he left the house, the weight of his mother's worried eyes still burning in the back of his mind. He couldn't deal with her right now, not when his head felt like it was ready to explode.

School was a blur—another place where the pieces of his former life barely seemed to fit. As he walked through the school gates, his body moving on autopilot, his heart felt cold, detached. Every step felt heavy, as if the symbiote inside him was dragging him forward, pulling the strings, forcing him to keep moving when all he wanted to do was collapse.

And then, in the distance, he saw him.

Mingi. The one person who used to make his heart flutter with every smile, every glance. His boyfriend. The love of his life.

But now, as Yunho looked at Mingi, his heart didn't race. There was no warmth, no excitement. Just a cold void that seemed to swallow him whole. It was as if something in him had changed, something deep and irreversible. The symbiote had stripped him of more than just his humanity; it had taken away the very essence of who he was.

"Yuyu, are you okay? You don't look fine," Mingi's voice cut through the fog in Yunho's mind. His concern was so genuine, it made Yunho's chest ache, but there was no answer in him. He couldn't even force a smile.

Mingi's eyes searched Yunho's face, his brows furrowing as he reached out to touch his arm.

Yunho's mind was elsewhere—somewhere dark and twisted, where voices from the depths of his psyche whispered, beckoning him into madness.

So that's your boyfriend, huh? Pretty cute, if you ask me. It would be fun to ruin him.

The voice in his head was mocking, cruel, just like the symbiote itself. Yunho clenched his fists, his body trembling with the effort to keep control, to keep the rage from spilling over. He couldn't let it happen, not here, not now.

"Shut up," Yunho grumbled through gritted teeth, but the words barely made it past his lips before the symbiote's voice raked through his mind once again, its words dripping with malice.

Cringe. You loser.

Yunho's eyes snapped wide, his hand reaching up to grip his forehead as if he could force the voice out. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, to see him losing himself to something that wasn't even truly him.

Mingi, of course, misinterpreted the sudden outburst. His face fell, his bright expression clouding with hurt as he took a step back. "Yunho... What's wrong?"

Yunho's heart twisted at the sight. He wasn't like this. He hadn't wanted this. Not for Mingi. Not for himself.

"Nono, baby, that wasn't for you." Yunho's voice was softer now, though the harshness in his words still clung to the air. He reached out instinctively, desperate to reassure Mingi, but his hands felt heavy, unsure. The symbiote wasn't letting go.

Mingi didn't look convinced, still watching him with concern. But before Yunho could explain himself, the voice in his head lashed out again, taunting him relentlessly.

Baby? Pathetic. You really think this is love? You think he cares?

"Get out of my head," Yunho hissed, his voice full of quiet fury as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the tormenting whispers. He could feel his grip on reality slipping, the lines between who he was and what the symbiote had turned him into blurring more with every passing moment.

Mingi's eyes searched his, confusion, and worry deepening. "Yunho... I—what's going on? You're scaring me. What's happening?"

Yunho didn't know how to answer. The truth was too dangerous, too dark. He wasn't the person Mingi had fallen in love with, and he didn't know how to protect him from the monster that was growing inside of him.

The symbiote laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed through his thoughts like a thunderstorm in his mind.

He's scared. Good. Let him be scared. Everyone will fear you, Yunho. It's only a matter of time.

Yunho took a step back, his face twisting in pain as he tried to force the symbiote into silence. "I—I need to go," he muttered, his voice rough. "I need space. Please, just... give me a minute."

Mingi didn't argue, though the hurt in his eyes was evident. He nodded slowly, stepping back with a hesitant, unsure smile. "I'll be here, okay? Whenever you're ready."

Yunho's breath came in ragged, panicked gasps as he slammed the washroom door shut behind him. His hands were shaking, trembling with the desperate need to do something, anything, to make it stop. The voice inside his head, that constant, nagging presence—the symbiote—had taken root deep within him, infecting his mind as much as it had his body.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

With an agonizing scream, Yunho collided his forehead against the mirror, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through his skull. The glass cracked instantly under the force of his head, spiderwebbing out in jagged lines, tiny shards of it splintering off and flying across the room. Yunho barely felt the cuts as they scraped across his face, his skin quickly reddening with blood, but the sting of the pain was a small, fleeting distraction from the suffocating agony in his chest.

"Get out of my head!" he growled through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained, as if trying to force the symbiote to listen, to obey . He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white with the pressure, as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat thunderous and erratic.

The symbiote laughed, a mocking, guttural sound that reverberated through his mind.

You're weak, Yunho. Pathetic. You'll never get rid of me. You're mine now. Forever.

Yunho's vision blurred as his heart raced, his body shaking with the intensity of the words in his head. The symbiote was taking over. Little by little, piece by piece. It wasn't just his body anymore—it was his mind, his thoughts, his very soul that was being corrupted.

He pressed his palm against the glass, the cool surface a faint relief against the heat radiating from his skin. His face, his hands—they felt different now. Foreign. The reflection staring back at him was not the boy he had once known. Not the one who used to smile freely at Mingi, whose heart would race for the simple touch of his boyfriend's hand.

Now, there was nothing but this cold emptiness. And the voice that wouldn't let him go.

You belong to me, Yunho. You were always meant for this. You've always been mine.

With a strangled cry, Yunho pulled away from the mirror, his fingers digging into the sink, leaving deep gouges in the porcelain. He couldn't stay in this bathroom forever. He had to leave. He had to go back to Mingi.

But could he face him like this?

Would Mingi even recognize him now, or had he already lost everything?

The symbiote's laughter echoed again, this time joined by a dark, unsettling voice that whispered deep in Yunho's mind.

He'll never understand you. He'll never be able to save you, Yunho. You're beyond saving.

Yunho stumbled back, his chest tight as if the weight of the world was crashing down on him. He turned toward the door, but the image of Mingi's worried face—hurt and confused—flashed before his eyes. His boyfriend, his love ... He couldn't bring himself to hurt him.

But if the symbiote was right, it was only a matter of time before he did.

Yunho's hands shook violently as he reached for the door handle. Get out of my head, get out of my head, he repeated under his breath like a mantra, as though saying it over and over would somehow make it true.

His heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn't stop the cold sweat that began to bead along his forehead. Please, don't hurt Mingi, he begged silently, his voice breaking. Mingi, the one person who still saw him as Yunho— the real Yunho —and not the monster he was becoming. The thought of the symbiote harming him made Yunho's stomach twist in agony. Anyone but him, he thought desperately, his mind swirling with fear and guilt.

The symbiote's voice slithered back into his consciousness, smooth and mocking, as if it were toying with him. Fine, it answered, its tone indifferent, almost amused by Yunho's pleading. For a moment, there was nothing but the oppressive silence that followed, and Yunho released a shaky breath, his hand still holding the door handle. It was as if the air had thickened with the promise of something darker—something unavoidable—but for now, the symbiote honored his plea.

Yunho closed his eyes, feeling the weight in his chest lift, but only slightly. Thank you, he whispered back, though the gratitude felt hollow. Thank you...

He almost couldn't believe the relief. The symbiote was in control, that much was clear, but somehow it had honored his request—not to harm Mingi. He couldn't bring himself to understand the creature's twisted morality, but he was grateful, for a moment, that it was at least keeping his love safe.

What's so special about him anyway? The symbiote's voice echoed inside his mind again, its tone probing, curious, almost condescending. It was the same question Yunho had been avoiding, the question that gnawed at him every time he looked at Mingi.

But Yunho knew better than to let the creature dictate his feelings.

He's Mingi, Yunho replied silently, but the words were firm, steady—a truth he wasn't about to let be twisted by the symbiote. He's my best friend. He's been with me as far back as I can remember—through everything, all of it. He's never judged me, not once. Even when I made the worst decisions, the ones that could've broken me, he was there. Not to praise me, not to tell me I was right, but to make sure I didn't lose myself in it. He's kept me grounded when the world felt like it was falling apart.

Yunho's mind flashed to all the moments with Mingi—the late-night conversations, the way Mingi would always sit close when Yunho felt too alone, the quiet but constant reassurance in his eyes. He's my left side, Yunho thought, pressing the heel of his palm against his chest, as if to feel the heartbeat that Mingi had kept alive in him. He's the closest to my heart.

There was no doubt, no hesitation in Yunho's mind now. Mingi was everything the symbiote could never understand. He isn't afraid of me, Yunho's voice echoed in his head, a whisper of defiance. Not of the monster I've become. Not of the anger I can't control. He's the one person who sees me—really sees me—and he doesn't run. Not when I needed him most, not even now.

The weight in his chest, the gnawing loneliness that had once threatened to consume him, lifted a little with each thought. Mingi had never abandoned him, never let him face his demons alone. Even when Yunho had been at his lowest, when he felt like the world had turned its back on him, Mingi was always there—like a shadow, a steady presence in his life that kept him from completely falling apart.

He's my lover, Yunho thought, and with that, it all clicked into place. And that's special enough. The symbiote could never comprehend the depth of that connection—the trust, the vulnerability, the way Mingi's love had been a lifeline when Yunho had nothing left to hold onto.

The silence that followed felt strange. The symbiote didn't respond immediately, as if it were trying to process what Yunho had said. Its presence in his mind wasn't as suffocating as it had been before, but Yunho knew it wasn't gone. The creature was still there, lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But for now, Yunho was resolute. Mingi is mine, he thought, and this time, the conviction in his words was unshakable.

The symbiote's voice finally returned, though it was quieter this time, almost hesitant. You're an idiot, it murmured. But it was not cruel, not as mocking as it had been before. There was a faint hint of something like admiration, or perhaps begrudging acceptance.

Yunho exhaled slowly, relieved but still on edge. I'm not asking for your approval, he thought back, his words firm but tinged with the faintest trace of amusement. But I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. And if you try to hurt him again, we'll have a problem.

The symbiote was silent again, but Yunho felt its presence shift. It was no longer a looming threat in his mind. In that brief, fragile moment, Yunho had regained some semblance of control.

I am Venatus, the symbiote's voice finally resonated, rich and deep, with a strange sense of finality. It wasn't a name Yunho had expected, but somehow it felt right. Venatus. It echoed in his thoughts like a warning, a promise, and yet, strangely, a bond.

The name sent a ripple through Yunho's consciousness, as though it was the key to something much bigger than either of them. Venatus... Yunho repeated mentally, feeling the weight of the name. It didn't feel alien anymore, but like something that had always been a part of him, lurking beneath the surface. What does that mean?

It means hunger, Venatus responded with a growl that shook the very air around Yunho, but not just for power. It means a desire to feel. To be alive. To embrace the chaos.

The symbiote's voice was both seductive and chilling, but Yunho didn't recoil this time. He could feel a flicker of understanding between them now. It wasn't just about destruction—it was something else. Something more.

And what do you want, Venatus? Yunho asked, his voice quiet but steady, accepting the presence of the symbiote in his mind in a way he never had before.

I want control, it replied, a cold satisfaction creeping into its tone. And I want to burn away the remnants of weakness inside you. To break down the pieces of you that refuse to accept who you really are. And once I've done that... we'll be unstoppable.

Yunho could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin, swirling with something raw and untamed. It was more than just the physical strength. It was a force that could bend the world to his will. And yet, as tempting as the thought was, something deep inside him recoiled.

You're not the one in control, Yunho said quietly, though there was no malice in his tone. I still decide what happens next.

Venatus didn't reply immediately, but Yunho could feel the symbiote testing the edges of his mind, probing for weakness. It was searching, waiting for Yunho to falter.

But Yunho wasn't afraid anymore.

I'm the one who will decide what happens, he thought resolutely, because I won't let you take everything from me. Not my heart. Not Mingi. Not the things that make me human.

Suddenly, Yunho's radio device vibrated in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. The static crackled before the message came through clearly:

"Assailant, gang robbers."

His heart skipped a beat, adrenaline surging through his veins as he stood up straight. The voice on the other end was urgent, distorted, but unmistakable—another call for Spider-Man.

Yunho's grip tightened on the edge of the counter, his gaze flickering toward the window as his mind processed the message. His first instinct was to rush into action. His father, his past, the symbiote—they were all momentarily forgotten as the weight of his responsibility to the city came crashing down on him.

But the symbiote, now more a part of him than ever, spoke to him inside his head, its voice smooth and confident.

Finally, something fun.

Yunho clenched his jaw. The urge to transform, to feel the familiar rush of power, was overwhelming. His fingers twitched, craving the rush of his Spider-Man suit. The symbiote was right—this was the perfect opportunity, the perfect distraction.

He glanced at his reflection again. The man in the mirror was no longer the boy he had been, not even the hero he once was. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was anymore, but the city needed him.

Don't get attached, don't lose yourself in this, he thought, clenching his fists. I've got a job to do.

But Venatus was already on the move, the symbiote stirring beneath his skin, coaxing him. Why hold back? You know they're just pawns in the game. You could end it all in seconds, Yunho. Why waste time?

Yunho felt the burn of the symbiote's hunger rising, the temptation to unleash it all. He could see the criminals in his mind's eye, their faces twisted in greed and malice. It would be so easy to let go, to let Venatus take over and handle it.

But he knew better.

Not yet, Yunho thought firmly. I can do this my way.

He knew he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him, but deep down, the voice of Venatus still whispered in the back of his mind.

Let me help you. Together, we could crush them all.

Yunho gritted his teeth, shaking his head. I can handle this. I'm not doing this for you.

He unlocked the door but decided to escape from the backdoor just in case someone saw him

Yunho shot his web toward the alley behind his house, the familiar hiss of the webbing filling the night air as he swung out into the streets. His senses heightened, his body instinctively adjusting to the rhythm of his swings, as if everything about him had become one with the city.

The voice of the symbiote was still there, lingering, pressing in on his thoughts like a silent whisper, You're doing this for you, Yunho. Don't deny it. They're just criminals. Nothing more than tools for your power.

Yunho clenched his jaw, pushing the thoughts away, forcing himself to focus. The city was calling. He didn't have time for this inner turmoil. I'm not like you, he reminded himself, I'm not going to let you control me.

As he swung through the streets, his mind raced, the radio message replaying over and over in his mind. A gang robbery. The city had been on edge lately with organized crime making a resurgence. His presence was needed. People were counting on him, and even if the symbiote wanted to tear through everything in its path, Yunho knew his duty.

He reached the location, a rundown warehouse at the edge of the city. It was eerily quiet except for the low hum of the building's power system. He dropped down to the ground, crouching low as he surveyed the scene from the shadows. His eyes darted around, looking for any signs of movement. The place was a fortress—guard dogs, cameras, the works—but Yunho was Spider-Man.

He could feel Venatus' influence at the back of his mind, the power of the symbiote urging him to take charge, to show no mercy. This is the moment, Yunho. You don't need to sneak around. You could have it all. Crush them now.

Yunho's fists clenched. I'm not you, he thought, breathing deeply to steady himself. I'm not a monster.

He darted forward, his movements fluid, silent. The first guard didn't even have time to react before Yunho's webbing had pinned him to the wall. One down. He continued his path, knocking out two more, all the while the symbiote's voice growing more insistent, more demanding. This is what you're meant for. You could break them, hurt them—take control. It's all yours, Yunho.

Each step forward, each moment closer to the heart of the warehouse, the more the voice seemed to pull at him. He was so close.

They deserve this, Venatus whispered, The world deserves to see your power.

Yunho froze. For a split second, he considered it. He could feel the power within him, swirling, alive. He could feel how easy it would be to unleash it—unleash everything. He clenched his fists, the symbiote reacting to his hesitation. Come on, Yunho, take the leap. Show them who you really are.

But Yunho snapped his eyes shut, exhaling sharply. Not yet, he whispered to himself. I'm still in control.

He pushed forward, not allowing the temptation to take over. The criminals were just ahead—five of them, armed, laughing and counting their loot. Yunho's heart raced as he prepared for the inevitable confrontation. But before he could make his move, one of the men turned around, spotting him.

"Hey! It's Spider-Man!" one of them yelled, pulling out a gun.

Without thinking, Yunho launched himself forward, webbing the gun from the man's hands and slamming him into the nearby wall. The fight began in an instant—punches, kicks, webs flying through the air as the gang attempted to retaliate.

Now's your chance, the symbiote purred, Finish them off. Show them the true meaning of power.

But Yunho didn't listen. He dodged a punch, flipped over another assailant, and webbed the last man's hands to the floor. He didn't need to kill them. He didn't need to prove anything.

He was Spider-Man, and that meant protecting people—not ruling them.

Yunho's breath caught as the symbiote's tendrils lashed out, wrapping around the robbers with terrifying speed, tearing his costume apart from the back. The black jelly-like mass pulsated from his back, the power surging through him like a drug. The tendrils gripped the criminals, lifting them off the ground effortlessly as they struggled, their eyes wide with fear.

"No, Venatus!" Yunho shouted, his voice shaking with urgency. "I said stop!"

But the symbiote wasn't listening. It was in control now, its grip tightening as it squeezed, the dark power spilling out of him in a dangerous wave. The robbers screamed, terror rising in the air as their bodies twisted against the black tendrils. The symbiote's influence was too strong, its hunger for chaos consuming him.

I'm not killing them, Yunho. I'm just helping you out, Venatus purred, its voice smoother, more insidious than before.

I don't need your help! Yunho snarled, fighting against the surge of power in his body. His heart raced, his muscles tense with the strain of keeping his will intact against the growing urge to let the symbiote take over. This isn't me!

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate, blocking out the symbiote's voice. The world around him felt distant, the sounds of the criminals' struggles muffled as he focused all his strength on pushing Venatus back.

The symbiote resisted, the tendrils twitching with frustration as they continued to lash out, but Yunho's will was strong. He forced the symbiote to retract, the black mass slowly sliding back into his skin, leaving the robbers unconscious but unharmed.

When it was over, Yunho stood still, chest heaving with exertion, his fists clenched at his sides. The tendrils were gone, but the black marks on his skin lingered, reminding him of the battle he had just fought—both against the criminals and against the monster within him.

You're weak, Venatus whispered darkly in his mind, the words heavy and cruel. You should have killed them. You should have taken control. This world is nothing but a playground for the powerful, Yunho. Why do you keep holding back?

#ateez #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez yungi #yungi fic #yungi smut #yungi #yunho x mingi #yunho #mingi #jeong yunho #song mingi #spiderman #venom symbiote #smut #best friends to lovers

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poppadom0912 · 6 months ago

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Holding On Sequel

Warnings: Mentions of guns, injuries, hospitals, angst

Summary: Recovery from the worst night of the Halstead's lives seems impossible.

A/N: Wrote this randomly when I remembered receiving several comments wanting a part two and after much deliberation on the plot, this is what I came up with. I'm not a medical professional, everything mentioned is all from google. Please enjoy the ending of this as there won't be a third part to what was supposed to be a oneshot ;)

*****

Things were never the same following the night of the accident.

Jay and Will found themselves at your beside for however long they were permitted to. During his shifts, at his breaks and whenever he found time, Will found himself in your room watching your coma ridden self and Jay would always call and text for updates, every other minute out of work spent in the hospital.

The surgery had been a success, no one ever doubted it when Connor took charge, but it was the aftermath that had gone downhill.

Cerebral hypoxia caused from the severe blood loss and haemorrhaging, causing damage to your brain, the extent of damage which even Abrams struggled to determine as long as you remained unconscious.

The coma lasted for such a long period of time that Abrams was hesitant in keeping your life support machine on.

Jay had a tiny bit of a go at the man for suggesting such a thing, Will attempting to hold him back from doing anything brash.

So Abrams took a step back for another week and the next time, Charles approached the brothers instead. His ever so gentle and understanding voice with his soft eyes causing them to crumble.

It seemed that everyone had come to a collective conclusion, tonight when both their shifts were over, they'd say their last messages and goodbyes before Abrams would pull the plug.

That day, like clockwork, Will took his lunch break too eat his sandwich at your side, talking and telling you everything and anything like he always did. Eventually, someone would always join him for moral support or for some company, either or, today it being April who also was on her break.

As Will combed his fingers through your knotted and greasy hair, their was a sudden spike in your heart monitor causing his fingers to abruptly pull at a tough knot, his own heart thundering, head snapping up to look at the machine in question.

Both doctor and nurse sat in silence, staring at the machine with sharp eyes, ready for any other fluctuations.

A higher pitched beep went off two minutes later, Will choking out a breathy laugh at the moment he believed was never going to come.

Struggling to formulate any thoughts, he turned back to look at you, his eyes softening paired with watery smile.

"it's okay Y/N." He swallowed harshly, barely listening to April calling for Abrams as the heart monitor continued to go off.

"Take as much time as you need."

*****

"Hey, you all finished?

Jay appeared out of nowhere, walking towards you with his keys in hand very casually like he hadn't just scared the living hell out of you.

"Yeah, almost. I just have to mark these last few questions and then we can go home." You said, gesturing to the test papers in front of you on your desk.

Jay hummed, perching himself on the tables that you forbid your kids from sitting on where he sat whistling till you were done.

Around fifteen minutes later, you were done. All your things were now back in their shelves and drawers, your bag packed as your announced you could leave now.

Jumping off the table, Jay rounded the desk and took hold of the wheelchair handles, pushing you out of the classroom, pausing so you could lock the door behind you.

This was your new norm.

Two months post waking up from your coma and, you were thriving as much as you could adjusting to this new lifestyle.

Only two weeks ago were you able to get back to work, spending all your time in and out of rehab and physical therapy, the latter of which you still attended.

The Cerebral Hypoxia affected your ability to speak and walk, the former which was fixed within a month of rehab but the latter...

Well, you were in a wheelchair for a reason.

To cater to such a sudden change in lifestyle, both Will and Jay took their turns in helping, acting as carers of sorts especially in the beginning of your recovery.

Their shared efforts leading to your current living situation - the three of you living together in a completely new place that had wheelchair accessibility that you were able to afford combining three salaries.

Even now, there were still some things that you hadn't become accustomed to such as: wheeling yourself everywhere, relying on others for small tasks like laundry and the sympathy from the entire world.

You would never get used to the stares you continued to receive at school from the children.

"Will get's off in a hour, he's asking about takeout." Jay said, cutting you off from your train of thought as you reminisced on your current recovery.

"Our usual Chinese place is good for me." You said, watching as he typed something into his phone, most likely texting Will your words. "I'm really craving their duck."

"Perfect." He mumbled, turning his phone off as he started the car to drive home.

It took a very long time to work out how to get you and the wheelchair both in and out of the car but after much trial and error and eventually help from your physical therapist, it all worked out.

Will and Jay were changed men after you woke up from the coma. They were, if even possible, more protective of you than before to a point where the line between overprotective and overbearing was extremely thin.

But all three of you had to learn and adjust, making mistakes and sacrifices necessary in making this recovery and new lifestyle work.

You wished you could turn back time and change things, going back to that fateful night where you could change what you did.

Thinking back to it now, you would've been smarter, used some common sense and put your card some place sensible, maybe walk faster to the station instead of pausing in the middle of a dark street nowhere near the main road or civilisation.

But alas, no matter the regret, it was all in the past now, as your therapist said, dwelling on it won't change the present.

All you could do is what was in your control which currently consisted on focusing on your physio to try and get your legs to improve even somewhat, try to enjoy being coddled by your older brothers like you were all kids again and continue to teach the children who never failed to make you feel better.

While you were well into the recovery process, there was still much progress to be made and in an ideal world, by the end of it all, you'd be back to normal and stable on your own two feet. A life where everyone could go back to their lives, Will and Jay being allowed to live their lives independently without having to help you get into the shower or bed.

For now though, all you had to do was focus on yourself, taking small baby steps to try and get back to being you again.

"For fucks sake- Will forgot the prawn crackers!"

With these morons at your side, being you was easier than ever.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #chicago med #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #will halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead x sister!reader

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casual-praxis · 3 months ago

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“Probably no harmful side effects to this at all.”

Here’s Vio’s Slime Rancher AU design! I wasn’t entirely sure what I was working with when I went into this, but I think it turned out alright-ish in the end. ^~^’

He was supposed to have more of a scientist vibe, but I didn’t want to take too much inspiration from Viktor, so this is the route I went instead. He’s a little unhinged, but he’s keeping it together. Mostly.

More details about Vio's role in the AU below the cut if anyone is interested!

I touched on a few details already back in this post, but I've had a few more concepts in mind since then, so I'll go ahead and list them now so I don't forget later.

+ Vio was the first to arrive at the shared ranch and spent about a year alone before Shadow arrived. In that time, he explored a majority of the map on his own, save for the ruins and desert. He was actually in the process of figuring out how to get into the ruins when Shadow arrived, which sidetracked him a bit.

+ Due to being one of the first inhabitants of the Far, Far Range, Vio didn't have a lot of information to work off of with the Slimepedia, so he made his own guide for navigating the wilderness. Needing to discover more slimes was the main thing tripping him up with the ruin's Slime Gate.

+ Vio is the only one in the group to have a tongue piercing. It takes varying lengths of time for everyone to discover that fact though. Shadow noticed it the quickest.

+ Because of prolonged exposure to Quantum Slimes (one of which he may or may not have eaten, for science purposes), Vio's physical form occasionally glitches and/or becomes more transparent. Luckily, he doesn't seem to create "ghosts," but if left unchecked he does start to hear things in other realities.

These glitches aren't very frequent, and can be fixed by either inflicting pain or splashing water on him. He opts to inflict pain rather than get wet constantly, it's what his bracelet is secretly for.

+ As a side effect of his reality-warped perception, talking to Vio when he's less physically stable can net some interesting results. Mostly just jumbled or gibberish sentences and the occasional mixed topics. Something akin to, "the slime even the yet carrot gold, no, what?"

+ For at least a year and a half, Vio used his vacpack in his non-dominant hand simply because it wasn't designed for left-handed people. He wanted to wait for someone else to show up before attempting to tinker with it, just in case he broke it beyond repair.

Upon realizing Shadow, and later on, Red, were also both left-handed, he figured this might be an oversight to report to 7Zee after all.

+ Whenever someone has a question about the Slimepedia specifically, they go to Vio. He knows way too much about everything, to the point where he's actually a little burnt out on the whole exploring thing. He still runs experiments, but he's almost done with all he can think of doing out there.

+ At some point, Vio was able to talk with an alternate version of himself. Though the content of that conversation is unknown, he did become noticably warmer towards the others afterwards. The idea of becoming like that alternate self is haunting.

(Hint: alt-Vio found new test subjects to play with.)

+ His soft spot for Red and Shadow is more obvious, but he has his tells with Green and Blue as well.

He rather likes having objectives to focus on, and Green trusts him to handle the more difficult tasks, so he won't complain if Green bosses him around a little. But only a little.

With Blue, it's more subtle. He doesn't fight as hard as he used to over his lack of self-care. If Blue shows up at his lab demanding he take a break and eat food/nap/etc, he only pushes back a little before giving in. Otherwise Blue might try to manhandle him, and that's just embarrassing.

+ The little pouch on his leg is for medical supplies. Namely bandages, just in case his bracelet punctures skin and draws blood.

Bonus: Close-up details of Vio's eyes because the glitch effect there is almost always occurring, unlike his full-body one.

(The way I draw this will probably change in the future if I continue on with this AU, but it looks okay enough for now.)

#it’s the morally corrupt one!#slime rancher edition!!#he's a lil' buggy but that's okay #four swords #vio link #the other's are mentioned #rambling #slime rancher au

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: okay so I'm making this post because I found ... this audio on youtube (it's sfw dw) and it really made me want to write about the reader as this badass bitch who Negan absolutely adores. Otherwise, I find it really difficult to write for Negan in this timeframe. But the audio made me ... goddamn fall in love.

Warnings: at the end there's blood, and a knife - not used in violence though.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

ENTP

Slytherin

Evil Neutral > Chaotic Neutral

4 of Wands Reversed

Gemini Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Scorpio Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・He had found you in one of the only secluded places there were at the Sanctuary

・Then this voice came out of nowhere, a voice you know well, one you had ... fantasised about for a while

・But outwardly, you pretended that you were doing this just to get by

・However, you had learned a lot from the people around you, from Negan, but mostly from Michonne when you were with her group

・It was long history. But eventually, your ideas didn't align with Rick's. And to the dismay of Michonne and yourself, you decided to leave.

・It hurt. You had friends in Rick's group, you truly did. But they followed him blindly. Just how Negan's group followed him blindly.

・But all your family had died, there was no one left you had to look out for. To love. Rick didn't even leave his kids in your presence alone. Just because of your ideologies - that maybe there is no right or wrong anymore.

・And then Negan killed Glenn, and Abraham and so many others and you felt so lost.

・But somehow, anyway, you ended up at the gates of the Sanctuary.

・It had been a month in and you were finding difficulties left and right.

・No one accepted you, no one wanted to trust one of Rick's group. They thought you were sent here to spy on Negan. But you did everything to prove yourself.

・And as time went on, you saw Negan's bravado.

・And ... you liked it. Even when it came down when two were together, you still liked his charm. The way he thought. But you could also see the hurt from his past. And how that influenced how he acted today.

・The words he spoke made you tingle, they made you blush (although you concealed it so well that Negan couldn't see it.)

・And when he was pouring his heart out to you, you tried to keep a straight face. Not let him see how you truly felt. Because if you did, then you would have nearly body slammed him to the floor and kissed him until you both couldn't breathe.

・Knowing that the leader of the Sanctuary, THE Negan, wanted you and only you - made you feel ontop of the world.

・And then he did something that you didn't expect.

・He made everyone assemble inside.

・And announced that you were his and only his and then he was only yours.

・That even though the war between Rick and them was still happening, Negan wanted someone solely to himself.

・In other words, Negan's personal life was just as important as the war ...

・When he made all his subjects kneel, and kissed you on the lips, you felt a rush of ... power. Of ... royalty, authority, control.

・It made you buzz.

・When it was just the two of you again, and Negan brought up the wedding, you nearly died.

・Had this been a joke? You thought so, but when you brought up your hesitancies, Negan looked at you with pure shock.

"Hell baby, I know you don't want to hear it, but these past few weeks, I've been giving you test after test."

"What? No you haven't, I would have notice-"

"That was the point, they weren't supposed to be noticeable baby."

"Negan, I - I honestly don't understand."

"Baby, you passed every single one of them. And I know you are the one for me. The only, one for me."

・Even before the apocolypse you never thought you would get married. You never thought someone would want you in that way.

・But apparently your strengths, the things that others saw as weaknesses - was what Negan loved.

"Okay, to make it even though, Mr Smith," you looked up at him with mischief in your eyes. The type of mischief that could breed chaos.

"Hmmm?" Negan said with a raised eyebrow, mirroring your smile.

"I want you to undergo a test." Your voice was light, airy, innocent.

"Anything for you, sugar," he nearly growled.

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾🔞𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒅𝒏𝒊!

"Knife." You demanded and he pulled the one from his boot. The one he had his closest confidant clean and sharpen every morning.

・He passed it over to you without hesitation.

"Hand," you flipped yours out and he put it over your own.

"Repeat after me," all your words contradicted your eager face. Firm and strong, it excited Negan. But he kept that in.

・You looked at the shiny blade for a moment and admired it. Not too big, not too short, the perfect size for this.

"With my blood, I devote to you my love," you said, and waited a moment for Negan to do the same.

・He readied his throat and looked you straight in the eyes. His were glistening, and yours, gleaming.

His voice was deep, low, "with my blood, I devote to you my love."

・Without taking his eyes from you, you sliced the blade over his palm and did the same to yours.

・It stung, and blood wept from the wound. Faster than you had inticipated.

"And as we merge our blood together, we are now forever bound."

・You saw a hint of his eyes bulging, but only for a second.

・This was it. The final test to see if his words wrung true.

But his gaze flicked back to yours and nodded, "and as we merge our blood together, we are now forever bound."

・You clasped your hands together and let the blood mix.

"Blood of my blood," you whispered. Kissing the back of his hand.

・Where once held a smile, now had a stoic face. Knowing that now you truly were his one and only wife.

・Negan's eyes met yours.

"Bloof of my blood," he growled and leaned over the table to kiss you.

・Your hands stayed linked like that for nearly thirty minutes. Neither wanting to break free.

・An hour after you both decided you could let go. Negan went and sat in his chair, slapping the chair beside you.

With a beer in hand, he said, "I can't believe my wife's got me doing witchy shit," and he gave a chuckle.

"Husband," you said while grabbing the knife and walking over to the seat beside him, this isn't just "witchy shit, it's witchcraft." And then you licked the blood from the knife.

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desertmousy · 9 months ago

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prompt from @dreamlandcreations: what if paul sees what could have been if he was born a girl and he falls in love with feyd who is supposed to be his husband... how would paul try to get feyd in this life?

The dream left him unsettled. Paul Atreides jolted awake, mind still waxy and pliable after too much time spent in the sand and a belly full of spiced liquor. Was it even a dream? It felt like a vision, cleaving away from whimsy and falling squarely into an alternate timeline. Into a life when he had been born as the Bene Gesserit intended: daughterhood, perfected. He blinked blearily at the window. Past the savannah curtain, dunes crested the horizon. Arrakeen slept. Chani Kynes slept too, her chest rising and falling as she breathed beside him.

Paul returned to the vision, fingering through it like a tapestry with many pockets. In it he was young and foolhardy, bare feet smacking slippery moss in an orchard on Caladan, running from pale hands that snatched for his wrists. A mouthful of briny wind was spat from the sea. The person behind him was the echo of someone he’d seen before in this life. Feyd-Rautha grabbed his waist and spun him around, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, clumsily missing the place he’d intended to land. In the dream Paul was fifteen at first. Time swiveled out of focus and he was seventeen, panting hard against Feyd’s chin as they sparred or fought or fucked in the training chamber. And then he was eighteen and dressed in white. The gown was beautiful. It reminded him of his mother. Feyd-Rautha wore black. He was crisply dressed and standing straightbacked at the end of a long aisle dusted in petals.

In that vision, somewhere on a timeline near enough to this one to make itself known, Paul Atreides had married Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. He gulped. His throat went dry and his palms grew sweaty. Yesterday Feyd-Rautha had been detained by Fedaykin patrolling a slot canyon in the north. He was being kept in a cell in the bowels of the citadel on Arrakeen. It wasn’t the first time Paul had questioned his visions, but it was the first time he’d slipped out of bed in the dead of night to prove one of them wrong. He dressed slowly and silently, paying close attention to Chani’s restful sleep. Once his trousers were tightened, he tied his leather crysknife sheath around his waist and left their bedchamber, sneaking through each hall until he came to stand before Feyd-Rautha’s intimate prison. He shouldn’t go in. He knew that already. But the dream kept doubling behind his eyelids, daring him to push through the door and test destiny. Or entertain the idea of a different one manifesting in this lifetime, altering the course of Lisan al-Gaib.

Paul unlocked the chamber and stepped inside. The darkness didn’t allow for much, but he saw the outline of Feyd-Rautha’s lean form seated on the edge of a plain mattress, elbows propped on his thighs, hands dangling in front of him. He stared at Paul with lazy hatred.

“Muad’Dib,” Feyd-Rautha rasped, laughing deep in his throat. The bandages around his torso were dark in the middle. Blood from the wound he’d sustained from the Fedaykin must’ve leaked through. “I’m honored.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Paul said.

“Would’ve preferred a warrior’s death.”

“I came alone.”

“I can see that, cousin.”

Paul searched for something more to say. He came up empty, still fixated on the vision. “Have you ever dreamed of me, Harkonnen?”

Feyd-Rautha lifted his face. His smile was as small as it had been with Paul’s crysknife buried in his chest, another vision come to fruition in another life. There was no lamp in the small inlet where Feyd was being held. Light from a glow globe in the hall cast a glimmer on his face and made the line of his nose and his cupid’s bow sharper. In the dream, Paul had found him extraordinary. Standing there, staring at him, Paul understood why.

“I dreamed my own death once,” Feyd-Rautha said. He shrugged and stood. His torso was bare except for the cloth bandages. Black trousers fell low on his waist. “I didn’t know it was you holding the blade until yesterday when I saw the great Lisan al-Gaib for the first time. But here I am, alive.”

“I asked if you’d dreamed of me,” Paul said sternly. “Have you or not?”

“Maybe.” His wolfish smile grew. Feyd stepped forward, approaching with slow steps. He listed his head and his naked brow furrowed. “Why do you ask, Atreides?”

Paul should’ve expected that question. His mind was still fuzzy from the spice liquor, his movements slow. When Feyd aimed a strike at his arm, Paul narrowly deflected. They jostled for a brief moment. Paul tried to sweep out his legs, Feyd dodged. Feyd-Rautha attempted to catch Paul’s jaw with his fist, Paul grabbed his wrist and spun him, pinning Feyd roughly to the stone wall.

Paul jammed his crysknife underneath Feyd’s chin. “Because in another life, you were given to me.” Paul gritted the confession between his clenched teeth. He pressed the edge of Shai Hulud’s fang to Feyd’s milky throat. “You were mine.”

“Is that right?” Feyd laughed, craning away from the crysknife.

“We were married, Feyd,” Paul snapped.

Feyd-Rautha’s expression turned from coy to curious. “You’re a bit feisty for my tastes, Atreides — ”

Paul inhaled forcefully. “And you’re a bit cocky for mine.”

“And yet here we are.” Feyd’s crooked smile curved. He tipped his face toward Paul’s, allowing the crysknife to dent his flesh, then split it, leaking red onto the sacred weapon. Their lips faintly touched. “Here we are.”

#dune #paul atreides #feydpaul #feyd rautha #feyd x paul #paulfeyd #dune fanfiction #feydpaul filet #dune ficlet #feydpaul prompt #this was a fun one #it's not super canon but it's kinda close

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mikashisus · 20 days ago

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THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS

02.5. my heart knew the weight

notes. ITS FINALLY HEREEEE!!! the chapter i spent 8 long and grueling months writing, revising, and getting frustrated over is finally here!!! i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this to make it as enjoyable and eerie as possible! if some scenes with barbatos don’t make sense, dw bc the plot will all unfold in the next few chapters! this fic is supposed to be confusing. barbatos and the mc r both unreliable narrators in their own ways - and that means u shouldn’t trust what they say, but the ppl around them (cough rukkhadevata and jean cough). the plot rlly picks up in this chapter so im super excited to see how u guys react hehe

taglist. @wystiix @pneumosia @kazuinvocation @daydreaming-paradies @gl4di0lus @pixelcafe-network

word count. 11.2k

masterlist | prev. | next

“So let me get this straight…“ Gwen said, shuffling around on the tabletop, “you and my brother went to the library together?”

She grabbed a piece of cheese from the plate resting by her thigh and popped it into her mouth, a small smirk beginning to form on her lips. “And afterwards, he showed off and offered to teach you how to wield a sword?”

You let out a small huff. “He didn’t ‘show off’, per say…” you trailed off, a smile pulling at your lips, “he was just clearing monsters from our path.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Same thing! I know my brother, so he was definitely showing off! After all, he was the best swordsman in Cairnfelle!”

Quirking a brow, you leaned forward, about to ask about this ‘Cairnfelle’ she mentioned, when she suddenly clapped her hands together. “So! What’d you find?” She rested her hands on her knees, dangling her foot off the edge of the table.

“Well, there wasn’t a whole lot. I ended up checking out four books. I already read through three, and so far, nothing.” You explained, thinking back to the journal you found.

There wasn’t a single thing about Barbatos in that journal. Two of the other books were origin stories— one being how Barbatos taught the birds of the world how to fly. The other book had been a written biography about Barbatos and Queen Catalina’s adventures. Although it was a thrilling read packed to the brim with suspense and laughter that made your stomach ache, it wasn’t enough.

None of the books were giving you what you wanted: information on who Barbatos really was. All the books you checked out had told of his exploits after Decarabian’s fall. There was next to nothing regarding his life before the rebellion; It was as if he hadn’t existed until recently.

And quite frankly, you were beginning to get a little frustrated. The red strings on your mental investigation board were going nowhere, connecting to nothing.

Gwen hummed thoughtfully. “So, you read through the first three. What about the last one? Any luck?”

“I haven’t read it yet.”

“How about you bring it to our home tomorrow? We can read it together!” She smiled, bright and genuine.

The proposition was an intriguing one, though you preferred to handle this crisis on your own. Gwen, as far as you were concerned, was a devout worshipper of Barbatos.

The most you told her about why you had gone to the library was that you were gathering information on a historical figure. You didn’t know the depth of her loyalty to Barbatos, and you weren’t willing to test it by explaining your true motives.

She was a kind soul, that much was true, but she could have been reminiscent of the utterly devoted nuns from the church.

(And when faced with doubtful questions about their god, they were a force to be reckoned with— an annoying pest that wouldn’t go away. A headache inducing interaction.)

Her offer was from the heart, you knew it was. That, paired with her dazzling smile, made a pool of guilt settle in your stomach. You couldn’t possibly say no, especially not to someone so kindhearted as her.

With a silent sigh, you returned her smile and nodded.

She clapped her hands together again and hopped off the table. “Great! Hopefully we luck out this time! Right?” She grabbed her now empty plate and glass and retreated back behind the bar.

The last book was a worn, battered thing that looked much older than the journal you found. An archaic symbol was etched into the front, and the pages were yellowed and ripped in some spots.

A name was inscribed into the back cover in elegant calligraphy, though part of it was smudged by a stain and you could only make out three letters.

You hadn't opened the book yet. You didn't want to— not without Gwen. After all, the whole reason you were here, sitting on a plush couch in a cozy oceanside cabin, was because she had suggested you read through the book together. However, it seemed as though she had forgotten about that proposal, as when you arrived at her home, she was nowhere to be seen.

Arbor had been the one to welcome you in. He was outside at the time, tearing some hay-filled dummies to shreds with a rickety old wooden sword that has seen better days. His skin, a warm tawny, orange-brown, glowed as the sun beat down on his figure. Sweat hung from his brow and slithered down his fully toned chest and abdomen, and you couldn't help the way your eyes trailed him for a moment, entranced.

He caught sight of you and nodded curtly, gathering up his previously discarded white shirt and wiping the sweat from his face. His auburn hair was messy, sticking up in some places. He opened the gate leading into the garden and led you into the cabin his family called home. Now, you were waiting as he fetched you a lemonade from the kitchen.

The Blair family's house was a humble old home, with paintings lining the walls and fun little knick knacks littered around on tables and shelves. There was a wall listing the entire family's achievements— from joining the royal guard, their contributions in war, rising to the ranks of elite soldiers labeled as "The Archangel Knights," and their feats during the rebellion and rebuilding of Mondstadt. It was clear to you that this family was a family of heroes.

The first floor of the house was composed of three rooms: the kitchen, the common space, and a small storage closet. The kitchen and common space were connected, the walls open and the ceilings somewhat high. A series of plants lined the windowsills and some hung from the ceiling. Flower pots filled with cecilias and windwheel asters occupied the table in front of you.

A set of stairs leading up to the second floor of the house sat to your right, with garland wrapping snugly around the banister. A faded red banner hung from one of the walls, the symbol on it unfamiliar to you. Another sat next to it, this one a newer, bright seafoam blue with a cecilia flower in the middle and gold lining the edges. Gold tassels hung from the ends, and the banner billowed gently as a passive breeze filtered in through a nearby window. All the windows were covered with white, partially see-through curtains that allowed a considerable amount of sunlight to filter through, igniting the whole house with a dazzling warmth and a lively atmosphere.

In the corner of the common space, behind the couch you were sitting on, was a rack filled with six swords, all of them varying in color, size, and shape. All six had a different colored piece of cloth tied around the hilts.

A fluffy quilt laid across the back of the couch, its colors a bright yellow, red, and blue. The pattern on it was foreign, most likely from another nation.

Arbor returned from the kitchen, placing two glasses on the low table in front of you, one yours and one his. A plate of sweet potato fritters with cinnamon sugar was placed in the middle of the table for the both of you to share. He took a seat next to you and popped one of the fritters into his mouth.

"I deeply apologize on behalf of my sister," he began, shaking his head, "honestly. She needs to learn to keep her word."

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips. "It's alright. Where is she, anyway?"

He let out a sigh. "She's on church duty today. Unfortunately, she won't be back until later in the afternoon. If you want to stay here until then, you're more than welcome to—"

You politely turned down his offer. "That's quite alright. If it's no trouble, I can come back another day."

He raised a brow and glanced at the book in your hands. You had told him when you arrived that Gwen offered to read through this final book with you. Though, now that you knew she wasn't here and had forgotten your plans in the midst of her busy schedule, the only thing you could do was return back to the city.

Arbor's eyes trailed elsewhere, calculating. His jaw was clenched and he looked deep in thought. A few moments of awkward silence passed between you before he spoke up. "I could read it with you in her stead."

That certainly wasn't an offer you were expecting, especially from him. Though, you supposed after he volunteered to go to the library with you the other day, it wasn't that surprising.

"Afterwards, we can start your lessons in swordsmanship... if that sounds enticing to you."

It did.

You nodded, a smile on your face as you opened the book and shuffled a bit closer to him. He stayed put, allowing you to enter his space a little as you placed the book between the two of you.

‘In the epic days of yore, a few thousand years ago, the heavens sprang to life and opened. The divine angels sang a magnificent choir, and trumpets announced the birth of a deity from the high heavens. This deity that would later come to be known as an influential figure in the formation of Mondstadt as a nation— the god of memories herself, ELIGOS; or more commonly known by her mortal name, Queen Catalina.

Her fascination with humans led to what many referred to as “the great mindscape,” or rather, a period of time when she had entered the minds of mortals and sifted through their memories to gain a better understanding of humans. Her fascination exceeded humans and even reached other gods…’

With furrowed brows, you stopped reading. It seemed as if this was another book to be discarded. So far, it hadn’t mentioned Barbatos at all. Though, judging by the pointed look on Arbor's face, you decided to keep reading.

It was then that you noticed how close the two of you had gotten.

This close, you could see his features better. Focused, striking gray eyes with lavender bags underneath that you hadn’t noticed before, a hooked nose, smooth pink lips that were pursed together, and a perfectly sculpted jawline. The light filtering in from the window touched his skin, casting an ethereal glow upon him.

He looked like a god.

You had never seen a real god in your entire life up until you arrived in this era. Witnessing what true divinity looked like right before your very eyes had stirred something within you. It was revitalizing in a way you couldn’t fully describe nor understand.

And now, as you looked at Arbor, you could feel your heart beating just a little faster and your breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t the same feeling you experienced when you saw Barbatos for the first time, but it sure was similar.

Small movement directed your attention away from his face and down to your hands. His fingers were brushing over yours as he brought the book closer. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to focus on the words on the page rather than his fingers enveloping yours.

It was a difficult feat, but you recovered.

Maybe the Anemo Archon was mentioned somewhere in this book— perhaps in a later chapter.

The two of you continued to read about the adventures and origins of the previous god that had once ruled over the eastern side of Mondstadt. As it turned out, Catalina had been the first god to ever step foot into Mondstadt, with Andrius following close behind, and Decarabian invading upon their territory some hundreds of years later.

The tale of Catalina's life was filled with wonder and a bit of sorrow. The Ruler of Time had once again been brought up, mentioned briefly in a few paragraphs describing how she was a mentor to Catalina. It made sense to you. After all, Catalina was the god of memories and the Ruler of Time was just that: a god of time. Memories and time were closely intertwined. It was no surprise that two gods who commanded both were also in close association with the other.

Finally, what you had been searching for stared you right in the face. A whole entire chapter on Barbatos. Although this book turned out to be a biography of another god, you were more than happy to get at least a little information on the Anemo Archon, no matter how brief it could be.

You turned the page, and the entire section on his origins was smudged out, worn by time. A curse fell from your lips, and you had the sudden urge to throw the book across the room. Arbor steadied you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. He took the book from your hands and flipped until he came across a fully legible page. It wasn't about the origins of Barbatos, but it outlined his history with the gods of memories and time.

It was short, but informative.

‘The spirit that calls himself Barbatos and the Queen of the North Wind were two entities closely entwined. After (...), they were considered close allies and even closer friends. The mortals who looked upon their astounding companionship once spoke of how fond the two appeared to be of each other.

Some even questioned the Queen quietly, wondering if such companionship was a step towards something greater. Although the two gods have never spoken forthright about this matter, thus is apparent: they share something that is unequivocally whole, transcending that of mortal comprehension. It is a bond that could never be severed. It is to be admired.’

You've read enough history books in your life to know what those words meant. The meaning was there in bold letters on a neon flashing sign. However, Catalina was long dead. Whatever relationship she harbored with the Anemo Archon died with her, that much you were certain of— even if you never knew of her existence until recently.

Arbor hummed. "This book is right. The Queen and Barbatos were once close… closer than any mortal could ever hope to be with another. It was truly fascinating."

It was, but you had more than a few questions; The first being how this book was outlining such recent events when it looked as if it had been run through the mud ten times over. It looked as if it was from a time in the far past— a past that was way before the Archon War. The events recorded in the first half of its pages could only be known for so long before being forgotten.

Your second question, following up your previous one, was: just who wrote this? Surely whoever wrote it was as old as the book itself. It only made sense. Only someone immortal could remember and record these events with such vivid detail.

Instead of staying afterwards like you originally planned, you quickly left the Blair family’s home, taking a few fritters along with you at the behest of Arbor.

“It’s rare to see you here, Barbatos.”

Rukkhadevata was quick to exit the Sanctuary of Surasthana as soon as the matra had informed her of the Anemo Archon’s abrupt visit. Although unexpected and sudden, she welcomed him with open arms.

Her smile was soft and kind, and her verdant eyes were warm and inviting. She towered over him as she ushered him closer, her arms spread wide. “Welcome, finally, to Sumeru.”

The younger god returned her smile, descending to the stone floor with a final flap of his wings. He brushed off his feathers before his wings folded behind him. “It was about time I paid you a visit, my friend.”

Rukkhadevata’s smile faltered a little, her eyes scanning him with a knowing look. “You are not here for a simple sightseeing trip, are you?”

He hated how well she could see through him. With a sigh, he nodded. Without another word, she motioned towards the Sanctuary. He began to follow her as she hovered a hand over his lower back. Inside the Sanctuary, he could feel the thrum of life spiraling through its walls and floors.

He shivered at the coldness beneath his bare feet. Despite that, a warmth enveloped him from every angle as small, almost imperceivable green particles floated in the air. It was as if the entire building was breathing, providing a comforting, cozy atmosphere for those within.

In the middle of the bridge sat some sort of device he had never seen before. He eyed it curiously, watching silently as the Dendro Archon walked up to it. It slithered and recoiled, like a set of retreating vines, disappearing up into the high ceilings above.

A couch made out of vines was fashioned at the Dendro Archon’s will, and she ushered him forth with a smile. “Come. Sit. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

He shook his head. Moving forward hesitantly, he sat upon the makeshift couch, crossing his legs together. Rukkhadevata hummed a soft tune, one that matched the eerie choir that resonated through the thrumming of the semi-sentient walls. She sat down, a cup of herbal tea in her hands.

“You are here for a number of reasons, but one of those is more important than the rest. What troubles you, my dear friend?”

As always, she knew. She always did.

He chuckled softly. “You always seem to know what I’m thinking, so… Wanna take a guess?”

She thought long and hard for a moment, her eyes closing. For a minute, it was silent, except for the faint choir resounding all around him.

The longer he stayed in the Sanctuary, the more out of place he felt. It was different— much different than what he was used to. Back in Mondstadt, places belonging to divinity were cold and biting. They didn’t breathe with the life force of nature. They sang like the howling winds. The cold was uninviting and cruel, pushing out anyone who did not belong. It sent intruders packing.

But here, it was the opposite. It was filled with warmth and comfort, drawing him in and enveloping him like a hug. There was no wind that sang, and no cold to whistle through his veins. There was a numbing hotness about the air, filled with the life force of nature.

Yes… it was much different than Mondstadt.

Rukkhadevata’s eyes fluttered open, glowing and full of knowledge. Her lips drew together in a tight frown. “I see. You wish to know if it is possible to alter time, even after recent events.” Her eyes dimmed back to their normal color, the divinity seemingly fading away.

He looked away. “I know it’s strange,” he began, “after all, I’m more than capable of doing it myself… but…”

“Messing with time can cause great catastrophes.” She finished, sighing heavily. “Not only that, but it is extremely difficult to alter Irminsul’s memories. Surely she had told you that.”

With great restraint, he stopped himself from sending her a harsh glare. He gritted his teeth, his tone venomous. “Don’t—” his expression softened as he met her eyes, and he swallowed, “yes. Altering memories— and time, especially in regards to Irminsul, is risky. I know that, but I wanted to at least do something good this time around…”

She studied him for a moment. Standing up, she brought up a holographic screen. “No one in history has ever entered Irminsul. No one in history has altered Irminsul… except for them.”

A white hot rage filled his veins at the mention of the Heavenly Principles. He pushed it aside and focused on Rukkhadevata’s words.

“However, that was until our little time traveler showed up.” She zoomed in on the screen, and he assumed she was looking at Irminsul. “In the course of a week, she altered fate on an unprecedented scale. I felt the shift in Irminsul— the pull of memories shifting around, convulsing, new ones appearing and replacing the old ones.”

She was silent for a moment, her brows drawn together in thought as she stared at what looked like various tree branches and nerves. “No one has ever changed fate like this… except for a god.”

He perked up at that, his surprise evident on his face. He opened his mouth to ask who, when she turned to him, her lips pursed tightly together.

“Barbatos… that god was you.”

His blood ran cold.

“Me?”

“Many millennia ago, at the start of this world— the beginning of Teyvat’s formation, the Ruler of Time created the Thousand Winds.” She expanded the screen, making it impossibly large. With her fingers, she moved some images around on the screen, showing a perfectly normal tree with only a few branches.

“From those Winds, a lone son wandered too far from his mother, and despite her orders, passed through the fractured barrier in spacetime, creating what we now regard as the ‘Barrier of Ikairo.’ It was an event that was never meant to happen. It was a stain on the Heavenly Principles— an act of disobedience.”

The tree shifted along with the events of the story. Its trunk twisted as thousands upon thousands of long, spindly branches appeared.

“As his punishment, Celestia forced him to partake in the Archon War and slay the person he cared for most. With her gone, he was awarded the title of Anemo Archon and appointed to the position of barrier guardian by strict order from the Ruler of Time.”

He sat there, his head down, shame filling his entire being. He hadn’t meant to cross the barrier. He hadn’t meant to put a dent in Irminsul. He hadn’t meant to cause such a disturbance nor change fate. And now, to pay for such unforgivable crimes, he was charged with immortality— a lifetime, chained, bound by duty. Not only as the Anemo Archon with a stolen authority from the ancient sovereigns, but a guardian of the barrier. And already, he had failed in his duty.

“Another… more soul crushing punishment was decreed just this week.”

He was aware. He had heard the trumpets, he had witnessed the trial, he had sat upon the physical manifestation of his throne and accepted the punishment. After all, he had no choice. Whatever the Heavenly Principles decreed was law. It was sacred scripture. It was carved into Irminsul, and there was no way of ever breaking free from these shackles.

He had let out a snort then. How ironic for the god of freedom to be chained. To be bound by duty, never actually— truly free. The shackles were there, invisible but there. He felt their weight in his heart and on his mind.

A hand gently grabbed his chin and lifted his now tear-stained face. Rukkhadevata, in all her tenderness and grace, peered back at him with a sorrowful look in her eyes. She knelt before him, softly rubbing her thumb over his cheek, swiping away his tears. Her other hand came up to rest on the back of his head.

She reminded him so similarly of his mother, but with more love and care wrapped in her heart. Maybe it had been because she was connected to the heart of the world— Irminsul.

With a hesitant motion, she pulled him towards her, enveloping him in a warm hug that he so desperately needed. He wrapped his arms around her, his head falling limp between her neck and collarbone. His body fell forward into her lap, and she cradled him in her arms as if he was a baby bird. His cries resounded through the Sanctuary, his tears staining her yellow-brown skin.

She rested her head upon his, bringing him in tighter, her brows furrowing together. They stayed that way for a while as the walls thrummed sadly, imitating the slow beat of a harrowed heart.

It had been a full two months since your first visit to the Blair family home. Upon realizing she accidentally bailed on you, Gwen invited you over for dinner the day after. That one night turned into two, and two turned into three, and so on and so forth until you were spending every night with them.

They were a jovial family, always playing music and regaling you with tales of adventures and old legends. Gwen would run off and grab an instrument, only to bring it down to the living room. She’d jump onto the coffee table and begin to sing, her voice filling the cabin with an exuberant atmosphere. Klaus and August would join in as Arbor stood from his seat and offered you a hand, bowing as if he was some prince asking a princess to dance.

He’d smile as he pulled you from your chair and wrapped an arm around your waist. You’d return his smile as you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just follow my lead,” he’d tell you, and you did your best to match his steps as he twirled you around the room. Laughter pierced the air and wafted out through the open windows.

In those moments, you were able to forget everything and truly live in the moment.

Over the course of those two months, you learned how to wield a sword. Arbor was a ruthless teacher. His methods were quite… odd, but they were effective, so you didn’t question him. If it worked, then who were you to judge?

During those training sessions, you learned more about each other. His favorite color was a deep seafoam, akin to the ocean near his home. His favorite meal was schnitzel with warm potato salad. He loved sunsets, music, and to your surprise, graffiti art. He had a special ability to make every cat love him, no matter how feral one could be. He was a real momma’s boy before his mother died— always helping her out when needed and pledging his life to keeping her safe. He never admitted it, but you could see on his face that he blamed himself for his mother’s death.

You confided in him as he did you. You told him of the two men that felt like brothers to you— Diluc and Kaeya. You told him about your childhood, your family and how they’d host Oktoberfest in their house every year and the whole neighborhood would show up. You told him what your favorite meals and pastries were, and eventually, he started making them for you without prior notice.

You choked on air as your back hit the ground. Your sword flew out of your hands, landing elsewhere as you coughed and tried to regain your breathing.

Arbor hadn’t even broken a sweat. He stood above you, his body blocking your view of the sun as you stared up at the sky in defeat. He adjusted his grip on his sword and inhaled. “Get up.” He spat, nudging your thigh with his foot. “We’re not done yet. Not until you disarm me. Let’s go. The sooner you disarm me, the sooner we can go inside and have dinner.”

“Are you cooking tonight?” You questioned, your voice hoarse from your dry throat and the lack of oxygen.

He looked away. Uh oh. “It’s Gwen’s turn.”

You whined. Although the girl was an exceptional baker, she couldn’t cook for her life. If she was stranded on a deserted island by herself, she’d surely die within the first day. She was an incredible fighter— you knew that from the one time Arbor invited her to a training session. She disarmed you and had you on the ground begging for mercy before you could even blink. That had been the first and last time you allowed her to join.

(You even considered her a far more ruthless teacher than her brother.)

Even though all she harbored was kindness and love in her heart and a friendly smile was always present on her lips, she sure didn’t play when it came to combat. Her entire personality shifted, and suddenly you were face to face with a seasoned soldier. It was downright horrifying.

With a small groan, you hauled yourself up off the grass and grabbed your sword. Arbor was already in a fighting stance when you turned around. Not giving you the chance to take a breath, he dashed forward with that same grace and elegance he always possessed. Your reflexes— which had improved over the course of two months —acted quickly, and you raised your sword to block the oncoming attack.

Gritting your teeth at the force, you pushed on your blade, attempting to knock him back. He pulled away and for a moment, you thought he was going on the defensive, when suddenly he adjusted his grip, and you knew what that meant.

Swallowing, you readied yourself, despite the dread creeping up your spine. He leapt forward, his movements fast and precise, aiming for each and every weak spot you had. You blocked attack after attack, ducking just in time as he swung towards your head. You swiped at his feet, and he jumped effortlessly over your blade. You knelt and rolled, avoiding his midair attack.

You were too slow to your feet, unable to deflect the next blow as you turned. You were knocked back, slamming right into a nearby boulder. The force from the blow knocked the air from your lungs. You coughed harshly, a wheeze escaping your lips. Your entire back was aching, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as the beating he put you through the day prior during your hand-to-hand combat training.

As usual, there wasn’t a single drop of sweat coating his body. How the hell? Was he some sort of indestructible immortal being?

He approached you, raising his sword once more as you painfully stood. Your shoulders were heaving, and your entire body was coated in a fine layer of sweat. Your hair stuck to your neck and forehead, and you wiped the sweat from your brow with the collar of your shirt.

“Again. That was pitiful. I’ve taught you better.”

Did he have an off button?

With a huff, you ran at him, and he sighed deeply. “This is your problem.”

“What is?” You scowled, beginning to get tired of his attitude.

He aimed for your chest and you jumped back just in time. His frown deepened. “Find it yourself.” He discarded his blade.

“Wha—” You paused for a moment. Big mistake. He hit your jaw, and you stumbled backwards.

“What have I told you? Don’t halt for a second. The drop of a weapon does not equate to surrender. The moment you hesitate is the moment you die.”

You scoffed. “If I die, it’s because you beat me to death!”

“No, if you die, it’s because of your own stupidity!”

He landed a punch right on your cheek, knocking you back once more. You skidded along the grass, dazed. He stood over you with a disappointed frown. “You’re weak still. You hesitate. You don’t channel anger. You fight with no purpose. That is your problem.”

You stared up at him, returning his glare. You couldn’t deny that his words hurt a little, if not a lot. Couldn’t he see you were trying your best? Couldn’t he see that you were putting your all into this training? You never skipped a lesson, and you always took them seriously. You listened when he corrected you and you were taking all of his advice to heart. Because of him, your reflexes and focus had improved, and you were reading your opponent’s movements at a rapid pace.

“Arbor.” A firm, cold voice called.

Both of you looked up to see Gwen standing in the distance, her brows furrowed and her lips drawn into a tight line. She was livid.

“Enough. She’s not like us. She’s not like Mother.” She remarked. “She wasn’t born from wrath. You can’t expect her to be the same when she’s…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering to you before fixing on her brother again. “Stop expecting so much of her. Results will come with time.”

He kept quiet, knowing better than to argue with her when she was so painfully right. With a huff, he made a beeline in her direction, his fists curled and his shoulders tense. She met his fierce expression with a challenging one of her own.

“She will fail if she continues like this,” he muttered bitterly, “she is nothing but a sorry excuse for a student.”

The look in Gwen’s eyes flashed to one of pure rage. She gritted her teeth. “Just because she’s not advancing at the speed you want does not mean she’s weak. Do you not see her trying her hardest to match you!? She’s learning quick for someone so inexperienced. For a mortal—”

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear to you that they were arguing.

“I disarmed Lowen within my tenth training session. It was brief, but I did it. There is no reason she cannot do the same after two months.” He contested. “It doesn’t matter what she is. My teaching has been accelerated this whole time.”

Her eye twitched. “Arbor, you’ll break her if you continue like this—”

“This conversation is over.” He stormed off towards the coastline, ignoring Gwen’s anxious calls of his name.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Gwen questioned after letting out a sigh. “I came out here to let you both know that dinner is ready, anyway.”

You stood from your place on the grass, wincing at the ache that was present in every bone in your body. As you moved, your brows scrunched together, and she smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry about him… he’s always been like that— hard on people, I mean.” Her gaze was distant as she followed the outline of his form on the coastline. “Our mother was the same way. He picked up more than a few of their habits…”

‘Their’?

Instead of prying, you followed her gaze. “Will he be okay? He seemed pretty angry.”

She scoffed. “He’ll be fine. It’s me that you should worry about,” she told you as she turned to head inside, “as soon as he gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Arbor’s shirtless form in the distance. From what you could see, he was knee deep in the ocean waves, his arms crossed over his chest. From here, you couldn’t make out the expression on his face. His back was somewhat turned to you.

You wondered how he must be feeling. You knew he was impatient and hard on you, but it was only because he wanted you to improve. Did you really meet his standards, though, if you kept failing?

You weren’t a fool. You could tell that his argument with Gwen had been about you and your progress. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was clear as day because of the way he had spoken to you before she arrived.

With a long sigh, you followed Gwen into the house.

With a swipe of her sleeve over her sweaty forehead, Gwen sighed heavily. That had been the last of the boxes that needed to be moved.

A man clapped his hands together, wiping off the dust and grime. He turned to Gwen with a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much for your help, Lord Guinevere,” the man said, giving a swift bow, “without your help, we wouldn’t have been able to move all this wood by sunset.”

She shook her head, returning his smile. “It was no trouble. And seriously, Arnold, you don’t have to call me that anymore.” She looked down. “Cairnfelle is gone…”

“Nonsense!” Arnold exclaimed. “Cairnfelle hasn’t fallen yet. You and Arbor are still with us, which means you carry its legacy.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, but…” she trailed off, unable to find the right words. She stared at the ground, unsure of what to say.

This was the first time she had been at a loss for words. What does one even respond to that with, anyway? Cairnfelle was gone. It died with its Queen. The winds had changed.

She took a deep breath and looked up. “A-Anyways— I will always be at your service.” She saluted him. “The Blair family will always be willing to help others, no matter what.”

Arnold nodded curtly, his gaze softening. He ruffled her oak brown hair, causing her to laugh under her breath. “The Blair family has done much for Mondstadt. Our thanks could never equate to the thousands of years of grace you’ve shown us.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop getting all formal on me! You know I’ve never done formalities! Also, it’s Gwen. Not Guinevere, and definitely not ‘Lord Guinevere.’”

He laughed, loud and full of mirth. He tipped his hat and nodded. “You got it, Gwen.”

“That’s more like it!” She smiled brightly at him, waving goodbye with a hand raised high above her head. “See ya! Don’t throw your back out while I’m gone!”

The trek back home from Springvale was a lengthy one. The Blair family home was tucked far beneath Starsnatch Cliff, right along the coastline. It was not only a far walk from Springvale, but a far trip from the city as well.

If the land was still intact from before Barbatos’ sudden urge to purge the entire nation of its mountaintops, maybe the original Blair home would still be tucked away in the mountains.

Oftentimes, she found herself missing the comfort and harmony of the mountainous slopes and the chilling, howling winds. They wrapped around the entire kingdom like a safety net, protecting them from the outside world. It was a paradise, a haven for all. A place of peace and prosperity for not only Mondstadtians, but others from around the continent as well.

Instead of going back home like she planned, she took a last minute detour. The sun was fading steadily over the horizon, and making the journey up to the far northern borders would take more than a few days on foot.

This only meant one thing.

She let out a heavy sigh and braced herself for the pain. From her back, hollow bones sprouted, tearing the skin apart. A thin layer of muscle pulled itself over the bone, followed by glistening ivory that danced along the muscle and tapered down, down, down. Brilliant wings stretched high behind her, a burst of feathers filling the air. They fluttered to the ground, only to shoot back up again as she dashed into the sky.

The trip was shorter, thanks to her newfound way of transportation. She stumbled back onto the ground, tripping over her own feet.

It had been such a long time since she had flown like that. It was as if she was a baby bird just learning how to fly.

She caught herself, only to get the wind knocked out of her lungs as a heavy weight collapsed onto her back.

She cried out in pain, her wings still sensitive from just sprouting again after what felt like millennia of being hidden from sight. A groan left her lips as she sat up, gazing behind her only to see a heap of tangled limbs and messy navy hair.

“Lord Barbatos!?”

She didn’t mean for it to come out as a shriek. Quickly pulling him into her arms, she inspected his torn up wings. It was a sorry sight— dried blood coating his feathers and bones sticking out in some places. She winced as she placed him flat on his stomach.

“What happened to you?” She muttered, her brows furrowing as she laid his wings out as far as she could. “This is too much… even for me.”

With this much damage, there was no way she could heal him. It would have to take some sort of miracle. Yet, he was a god. Miracles came naturally to him. With just a snap of his fingers, he could fix this…

Or could he?

What if the damage was irreparable? Would he be cursed to a fate of having clipped wings?

She was already aware of the secrets he harbored and the burdens he carried. First, chained. Then, duty-bound. Now?

…Never to fly again, it seemed.

With a determined huff, she shifted onto her knees and hovered her hands over where feathers met skin. Maybe she couldn’t fix him wholly, but she could very well try her damndest to do something; even if it was as small as clearing the blood and ceasing the pain.

“Hang in there, My Lord.”

An hour passed, and her energy was still intact. She kept up as the sun fully passed over the horizon, replaced with a lone moon shining brightly in the sky.

Another few hours passed. The blood was completely gone now, though she knew that her level of healing could only do so much on a god. It couldn’t heal his broken wings.

At this point, she had no choice but to involve the other divine.

She picked him up, as gently as she could with the little strength she had left after expending her abilities for so long. Carefully, she took him into the abandoned cathedral that still loomed on a cliffside. The ornate roof was long gone, snapped off during the great terraforming process. And yet, that ethereal, sacred feeling of stepping onto holy ground filled her heart and mind.

A familiar power thrummed beneath the marble floors, and a small smile tugged at her lips as it swirled around her, greeting her with a soft breeze.

She carried the broken god up to the altar and laid him down. Pressing a hand over his heart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her own heart was beating erratically in her chest, threatening to break free from its cage.

With a bowed head, she began the sacred prayer to the North Winds.

“Mögen die Winde deine Erinnerungen streifen und deine Seele durchdringen.

Mögen die Winde dich segnen und dich vom Bösen befreien.

Mögen Wahrheit und Aufrichtigkeit dein Fundament sein. Mögen Vertrauen und Treue dich leiten.

Mögen die Erinnerungen an die Vergangenheit, die Gegenwart und die Zukunft dein Herz sein.

Mögen deine Lippen stets von der Kälte des Nordens berührt werden und deine Zunge von den Feuern der Entschlossenheit entflammt sein.

Mögen die Winde die Seele und ihre Erinnerungen weitertragen, wenn sie gegangen ist, und den Körper von seinem Schmerz und seinem Leid befreien.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Until…

A burst of blinding aqua light emerged from the altar. A whirlwind followed closely in its stead. The force sent her tumbling back, her back roughly hitting a stone pillar.

She groaned in pain, hearing a small crack erupt from one of her wings. She cursed under her breath and fell forward onto the marble floor. Small stones and tiny pebbles cascaded around her as the ground shook with enough force to topple the entire cathedral.

Then, the light disappeared, and the rumbling stopped. The whipping winds fizzled out into soft, murmuring breezes, and the air went cold with suspense.

A whimper sounded. Her head flew up, and sure enough, Barbatos was waking.

She stumbled to her feet, clutching onto the pillar for support before making a beeline for the altar.

Barbatos sat up, rubbing his temple as his vision slowly cleared. The ringing in his ears ceased, and his breathing evened. He looked up, cerulean eyes gazing up at the endless sea of stars above his head.

Where was he?

He had no time to process as the breath was knocked from his lungs and he was catapulted off the altar and onto the ground below a tall statue just behind it. The two figures tumbled to the ground, their backs hitting the base of the statue and causing it to shake slightly.

He huffed, attempting to catch his breath again. He looked down, only to see the familiar sight of brown and platinum hair. He blinked, his eyes widening in surprise.

How long had it been since he’d last seen her?

She was tightly hugging his middle, her head dug into his chest. It was then he noticed she was holding on for dear life, scared he might disappear from her grasp. Hesitantly, he brought a hand up to rest on her head, and the other to rest around her shoulders.

He laid his head upon hers, smiling as he sighed in content.

“So… You wish to know how to change fate?” Egeria looked down on him in mock disdain. “And why have you come to me for this matter? Why not Buer?”

He chewed his lip.

Egeria, as gentle and adoring as she was at her core, could also be merciless and judgmental like the raging tides of the nation she oversought. Her piercing gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

The reason he hadn’t gone to Rukkhadevata was simply because he wasn’t sure whether she could provide him with an answer. He was positive that none of the Archons would— except for one. One, who’s successor was already thinking of a way to change the fate of all Fontainians.

Maybe, if he could speak with her—

Egeria sighed long and hard, her striking blue eyes boring holes into the pristine blue floor. The air was filled with a tense silence as she pondered over his request.

None have ever changed fate before. The only person who had was a mortal, and even then, they had no knowledge of ever doing so, nor how they did so. Even the gods weren’t aware how someone so insignificant had the power to change their fate around.

She sat up straight, snapping her fingers. One of her oceanid familiars rushed forward, kneeling at the steps leading up to her gold and blue throne. She slammed the end of her trident onto the floor, the sound reverberating off the glass walls.

“Fetch Focalors.”

“Right away, Lady Egeria!”

Egeria leaned forward, beckoning Barbatos closer with a perfectly manicured finger. He slowly walked up the steps until he was face to face with her.

“My Focalors has not changed fate,” she began, “but she has been mulling ideas over on the ocean floor for many years. If anyone could help you, it is her. Or perhaps… you’ve considered someone else?”

She raised a brow, the knowing look in her eyes saying it all. You know someone who deals in fate. Why waste your time here?

He took a deep breath. “Cousin,” he regarded her in confidence, “I seek a trustworthy ally. Someone who will handle this mortal’s fate carefully.”

With an intrigued hum, she stroked her chin. So that’s why he came to her. Not because Rukkhadevata was not in the know, but because the dealer-in-fate he already knew was someone he could not trust as far as he could throw them. Which, as the Anemo Archon, was pretty damn far.

“And you believe my Focalors will be this honest person?”

“Yes.” He uttered without a second thought.

Just then, the oceanid familiar from before came walking in with a stunning figure in tow. Barbatos stared, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open as he met her mismatched eyes. The woman had white hair with blue highlights that reached her calves, and wore a gorgeous mermaid-styled white and navy gown. Gold earrings hung from her ears, and a polite smile tugged at her lips. There was a certain elegance about her that Barbatos had been captivated by. It was an elegance he was all too familiar with.

It was the elegance of an ancient god, though Focalors was anything but an ancient god. She paid him no mind as her careful steps resonated throughout the room. She bowed deeply before Egeria’s throne.

“How may I serve you, Lady Egeria?”

“Rise,” Egeria said gently, motioning for Focalors to come closer.

The oceanid turned human did as she was told and stood next to Barbatos with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.

"The Anemo Archon seeks an audience with you. Consider yourself lucky to be in the presence of such an esteemed one as himself."

Focalors' eyes widened, and she turned to gaze upon the god standing beside her. Her eyes were calculating as she studied him. It was as if she was trying to ascertain why in the world he had wanted to speak with her, of all people.

He had come just for her? What for?

She had heard of his exploits from Egeria, and he truly was a man worth the devotion and praise. He had done so much for his people, for his friends, and for his nation. Someone like him was comparable to that of a hero; one written about in fables and bards' songs. It was ironic, given the fact that he was the god of music and song.

If the god of freedom, song, wind, and idylls was here for her, she would provide her aid to him in any way she could— but that did not mean she was not without her doubts on his true reasoning for seeking her guidance.

Despite her doubts, she bowed deeply. Above all, he was an Archon— he was above her, just like Lady Egeria. He sputtered, reaching out a hand as if to place it upon her shoulder. He stopped short, his hand lingering in the space between them before it returned to the place at his side.

"Please," he said gently, his voice calm and soothing in her ears, "stand. There is no need for formalities with me."

He smiled softly at her as she met his gaze once more, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Egeria stood from her throne, her presence demanding all to look at her with reverence and respect. She used her trident to support her weight as she descended the steps. "I shall leave the two of you to your meeting."

She sent them a curt nod. It was Focalors' turn to start sputtering, her jaw falling slack in surprise. She raised her skirts, taking a few steps towards her Archon, when Egeria raised a hand to stop her in her tracks.

"My Lady, you will leave us alone? But that is not—"

With her back turned, Egeria sighed softly. "It is not my business what you speak of in this room. The Anemo Archon is trustworthy. I trust his judgment."

That was that. With a final flick of her wrist, she ushered the other oceanid guards out of the throne room, leaving Focalors and Barbatos alone. It was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of moving water beyond the glass walls. Focalors stared at the heavy prismarine doors her master had left out of, before turning to face the waiting Anemo Archon.

She stepped closer, keeping a reasonable distance between them, and clasped her hands in front of her. She cleared her throat. "H-How may I serve you, Lord Barbatos god of Freedom and esteemed Anemo Archon?"

He let out a chuckle and took a seat on the steps before Egeria's throne. "Come now, no need for all that. I told you before, I'm not one for formalities." Still... she didn't see it right to address him informally considering his standing. "Please, just see me as a friend... Alright?"

She couldn't. He was an Archon— a heavenly divine figure. He was revered throughout the lands. He was beautiful in every sense of the word, and his humanity was what made him truly divine. Despite her high praise of him, she attempted to do as he told her, and nodded. If he requested she see him as a friend, she would fulfill his wishes.

"Alright." She nodded. His smile widened. It was warm and welcoming, calming her nerves in an instant. Her shoulders relaxed somewhat, and she sat next to him. "What may I help you with, then?"

"Egeria told me you've been attempting to turn around the fate of the Fontainian people. I wanted to ask how you plan on doing so."

She certainly wasn't expecting that.

"W-Well, I—" she stopped, unsure. "I'm... not entirely sure at the moment. I need more time. After all, changing fate is a difficult task."

He scoffed. "I'm aware... yet it isn't impossible."

Fate was tricky. He was more than familiar with it, as his own had been tampered with long ago. Although it hadn't been anyone else's fault but his own, he still wasn't sure how it exactly happened. But now... he needed to change it again.

He needed to change not only his, but yours. There was no way he was going to allow you to be subjected to such a horrible fate like the one the Heavenly Principles had given you.

Focalors glanced at him, seeing the far off look in his eyes. She sighed. The secret she had been keeping inside for a while now began to creep its way to the surface, lingering on the tip of her tongue as she opened her mouth. Would she regret telling him? She hoped she wouldn't.

There was something... off about him that made her uneasy, yet she couldn't place what it was. Gods had their secrets. She was well aware of that fact, as she could sense that Egeria had her own. But if those secrets would harm the lives of those around them... were they really worth keeping?

Egeria placed her trust and judgment in the Anemo Archon. That was enough to sway Focalors to speak.

"There… is a way you may be able to change your fate..." she muttered, watching as his eyes lit up with hope, "I've thought about it for many years. I'm not even sure if it's entirely possible, but... to change your fate, you need to bypass the Heavenly Principles, right? Well..."

She trailed off, wringing her hands in her lap. "If you want to bypass them, you would have to deceive them."

The words sat heavy in the air as Barbatos hung onto her every word. Deceive the Heavenly Principles!? That was an impossible task. Changing fate and altering time were tricky enough, but they were plausible. But... deceiving the all-powerful absolute authorities of the world? That was downright impossible, even for a god— for an Archon.

He might as well have given up. This endeavor was futile anyway. Why did he ever think he could achieve defying the Heavenly Principles?

Focalors watched the way his expression contorted into one of surprise, then of horror, and finally defeat.

"I wish there was another way..." she muttered, pulling at the sleeves of her dress. "But there isn't. And I'm determined to see my— no, Lady Egeria's plan —through. Because although it may seem impossible, I believe there's a successful way to go about this task."

Her words weren't getting through to him. She could tell. The look of utter defeat upon his face was heartbreaking. With her brows drawn together, she shuffled closer to him. "Lord Barbatos... it is possible. If there's no way, then I will simply make one. I will not give up hope— because the moment I do is the moment I doom the lives of the people of Fontaine."

That sentence struck a chord within him. She watched as a look of something unnamed flashed in his eyes. Letting out a sigh, she stood up and smoothed out her gown.

"I do not know what it is you are dealing with, nor why you are insistent on changing fate. But... I do know one thing," she paused, meeting his eyes, "we are the same, you and I. We have those we want to protect. And that is more important than lingering on the 'what-ifs' or what is or is not possible in this world. Anything in this world is possible if you have enough willpower. If you have enough hope and determination to see it through."

The room went silent, and she bowed her head in respect before exiting, leaving him alone with the weight of her words lingering in his heart and mind.

The air was thick with tension as you continued flipping restlessly through the pages of your notebook, your heart still beating wildly inside your chest from the argument you had moments ago with your mother.

The effects of her words still loitered in your mind, and unspoken insults still lingered on the tip of your tongue.

Your relationship wasn't one you could call stable by any means. Your mother, as far as you were concerned, was a stranger in your home. Your elder brother, a sprightly and burly man who dedicated his life to the protection of Mondstadt, was who you considered to be your true caretaker.

With your father no longer of this world, your mother had sought to continue the life she threw away before she had gotten married. She continued with her studies at the Sumeru Akademiya when you were a small child, and your brother had been left to care for you in her absence.

But you, unfortunately, were your mother's daughter. That same buzz and thirst for knowledge plagued your heart and soul just as it did her when she was a young girl. The similarities had once been something you cherished— something you held dear. You wanted to be like her. You wanted to study at the most prestigious school in all of Teyvat.

But now...

A bitter taste was left on your tongue from the argument you just had. How had things become this bad? How had everything fallen apart after the death of your father?

You let out a heavy sigh and slammed your notebook closed. The air wafting in from your open window was chilly, revealing it to be a cold and crisp winter night. Letting out a huff, you stood from your desk chair and grabbed your satchel, throwing your notebook and a pen inside before making a beeline for the door.

You had enough of sitting inside mulling over the effects of your dwindling relationship with your mother. Your brother glanced at you as you left the house, flinching slightly at the way you slammed the door closed.

He sighed. You were just like your mother.

You knew it too. And you hated it.

The wintry air of Northern Mondstadt greeted you like an old friend, embracing you in its hold as you allowed your feet to drag you out towards the plains that acted as a border between Northern Mondstadt and the icy ocean neighboring Snezhnaya.

No one could find you out here, not even your brother. It was the perfect getaway from that stuffy, warm house that only served as a cage. Out here, where there were no trees and the winds blew harshly, you could relax. The biting chill was a welcome feeling against your skin that still burned with the rage in your veins.

You spotted the familiar hill in the distance, a small smile pulling at your lips as you headed straight for it. The remnants of an ancient temple stood tall in the silence of the night, alight with an ethereal glow of divinity. You bid a small greeting to the old structure, running your fingers over the cold stone pillars.

This place always felt familiar to you in a way. It was as if— before you discovered it —you had been here before. It felt warm amidst the cold breezes. A soft thrum echoed through your feet and circulated throughout your whole body, calming your mind and rapid heartbeat.

It was a familiar feeling— one you felt every time you set foot in this temple. It only made sense for it to be the lingering effects of divinity left over from the death of an ancient god. Judging by the tenderness of what felt like a caress, you could only assume the god had been a kind and gentle one. It could only be someone warm and welcoming.

A bright, blue light wafted from the center of the main room. The fog around the bud curled around the nearby crevices and enveloped your feet as you got closer. You pulled your notebook from your satchel and sat on the marble floor, flipping open to an empty page and beginning to jot down anything you could on the anomaly before you.

Leyline anomalies had interested you ever since you first stumbled upon this temple a few years ago. Leylines were peculiar things— known for inhabiting many areas around Teyvat and containing the memories of the people who live in those areas.

The memories in this one were odd. They made you feel sorrowful and chained down, as if the person who died here had died with many regrets. It was hard to gather more information other than just feelings. You couldn't see past the haze surrounding the bud of memories, and you couldn't uncover the identities of anyone inside the memories.

You felt lost. You wanted to understand the land— the world around you. You wanted to connect with Mondstadt's history and uncover truths hidden inside the very land you called home.

There was a noticeable gap in Mondstadt's history. Ever since the ancient library burned down over a thousand years ago, the nation had lost most of its original texts and documents. The people themselves began to forget their own history, and the founding of Mondstadt got blurrier by the year. Old traditions still celebrated lost their original meanings, and songs were forgotten along the winds.

The nation had slowly and gradually lost most of their history, customs, and memories with the destruction of a single building. It was catastrophic the way it happened. You weren't alive back then, but the sorrow and anguish you felt for the unfortunate event made it seem like you had been.

It affected you on an unprecedented scale— more than it had anyone else in Mondstadt. It was odd how strongly you felt towards an event that you hadn't even been alive to witness.

Maybe the reason you had been so intrigued in Mondstadt's leylines was because of how connected you felt to events that you weren't there to see.

"It's a little odd, I won't lie," Jean said to you once as you both laid sprawled out under the tree in your front yard. "I mean... don't you think it's weird? I mean, yeah, the burning of that library dealt a huge blow to Mondstadt, but no one really cares today."

You sighed heavily, enjoying the brisk breeze of mid-Spring as you sketched out that ominous temple in your notebook. "You don't have to tell me things I already know," you replied coolly, "I get it's weird. But, I really do feel... connected... to things that happened in the past... as if I was there to witness them in a past life or something."

She glanced at you, propping up an elbow on the grass. "Do you think you're a reincarnation of someone?"

You scoffed. "Nah, not at all. I don't believe in that stuff, anyway."

Jean's blue eyes studied you for a moment. She frowned. "Really? But what if you were like, a hero to Mondstadt or something? What if the reason you feel so connected to our nation is because you're a reincarnation of a prominent figure important to our history?"

"Well, if that's true, then do you think you're a reincarnation of someone too?"

She hummed thoughtfully, laying back onto the grass and staring up at the cloudless blue sky. She smiled. "Maybe. If I am, I want to believe my past incarnation was a wonderful soul— someone who helped Mondstadt in its time of need, just like my ancestors."

You stared at her for a moment, admiring her side profile. A warm feeling bloomed inside your chest the longer you stared, and your heart began to thump against your ribcage as she met your gaze. Her soft expression could turn you to mush.

"And," she continued, sitting up on her elbow once more and leaning over your face with a smirk on her lips, "I'd like to believe we were together in our past lives, too. I don't think I could live without you, after all."

A small giggle left her lips, and you felt your face grow hot. She pecked your lips before settling on the grass next to you again, curling into your side as you both laid in comfortable silence.

It was that very same day that led to your downfall. Her words struck something within you, and a newfound determination surged throughout your body. It was that day you decided to pour your entire life into studying leyline anomalies and their effects on not only the world, but the people of Teyvat as well.

Everything else was shoved aside, left to rot in the back of your mind as you pushed yourself to your limit and worked your life away. You didn't expect your obsession to become the very thing that drove your first love away from you.

Just like your mother.

"This is borderline unhealthy!" Jean cried, shaking your notebook in front of your face. "You're obsessed! Can't you see how this is destroying you!?"

You refused to listen to reason. "I'm doing what you told me! Figuring out if memories really do affect us, and if all of us really are reincarnations of past historical figures!"

She looked at you incredulously. "Are you crazy!? This isn't something to waste your life over! I understand you want to make a historical breakthrough, but it's not worth it if you're losing your sanity along the way!"

You knew she was right. You could feel it. But, at that point, you were too far gone.

"But I'm so close to—"

"You're ruining yourself!" She screamed, tossing your notebook to the side. A few drops of water hit your nose, and soon, it began to rain. "Don't you see!? You're becoming your mother! Isn't that what you always sought to avoid?"

A fiery rage swelled within you at the mention of your mother and you gritted your teeth. You balled your hands into fists. Before you could get an insult out, she sniffled.

"I don't deserve to be cast aside, (Name)." Her voice was shaky as she attempted to keep her emotions in check, only to fail.

"You don't understand how important this research is to me," you muttered bitterly, "it means more to me than my own life. I'm nothing without this. I'm not like you. I don't have a huge life ahead of me— I don't have a duty to Mondstadt. Half my family is gone. I don't have a purpose. But this— this is my purpose. This research is what I've been looking for since my dad died."

She stared at you in disbelief. She scoffed. "Did we mean nothing to you?"

You were silent, unable to answer the question as you were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. Your jaw fell slack as your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. You tried to tell her that yes, she meant everything to you, but the words got caught in your throat.

"You're selfish!" She spat, her words piercing like knives in your heart. "All you care about is yourself. And that idiotic research." Without even so much as a "goodbye," she left.

footnotes. please see this post for the full extensive notes of this chapter!!

#venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #venti genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti x you #genshin venti x reader #venti x you #venti x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #— thus always to tyrants 🪴#—stellaronhvnters.

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kimpossibly · 2 years ago

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART THREE: the six

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I fear I may have screwed up the timeline, but oh well! Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

SEVENEIGHTNINE (1975-1976)

The recording of their first album tested The Six's strength ― not only as a band, but as friends. And Y/n, who had never really been a part of the band during its songwriting process, was quick to realize that there was friction between the same band members again and again. Most notably, Billy and Eddie.

KAREN: Eddie wanted more freedom with what he was playing, Billy thought that since he was the frontman that his word was law...it's the same old story you've heard before. They were in a constant dick measuring contest and neither one of them wanted to admit defeat.

WARREN: Billy was my friend. Eddie was my friend. But when you put them in a room together and told them to make a song, they were the most annoying motherfuckers you'd ever met.

One day after a particularly harrowing songwriting session, the band found themselves back at the house in Laurel Canyon. The place that was usually filled with talk and music was silent, the telltale sign that they had brought work home with them. but what else were they supposed to do? They worked together, they lived together. The lines between work and home were becoming dangerously thin.

Y/n couldn't stand the silence. At her house, there had always been something going on ― her mom would be talking on the phone, someone would come in injured and she'd fix them up. At the very least, she'd keep the television on so she could get a good nights' sleep. But that night it was dead silent. Sickeningly so.

So Y/n got out of bed and wandered into Eddie's room. She didn't acknowledge his presence as she walked in, stopped in place suddenly, and collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

Eddie watched the whole thing from his bed, his guitar in his hands. He expected that maybe she'd say something, start a conversation and whatnot, but she didn't. She just went on, staring at the ceiling as though she had all the time in the world and a perfect reason to be there on the floor.

So he spoke first. "Hi."

"Why can't you just get over things?"

EDDIE: Out of the blue, no hesitation. "Why can't you just get over things?" I knew what she was talking about. Me and Billy had been at each others' throats for weeks, ever since we started writing the damn album. She wanted to know why I couldn't just pack it all in and take the hits as they came.

"Um―"

"Because here's the thing: you guys both have so much pride. Soooooo much. So much it makes me want to slap you guys across the face and remind you that you're human, not gods. And, look, I get it. He walks all over you sometimes and that's not cool. But sometimes it feels like you're pushing back just to be contrarian. Like you don't really disagree with what he's saying, you just disagree with the fact that he's the one saying it. You get my drift?"

EDDIE: Like I said, she doesn't sugarcoat things. She'll tell you what you are and if you don't like it? Tough.

Eddie paused, leaning back. She was right; he knew that much. And maybe he did argue with things just to argue, but so what? They weren't The Dunne Brothers anymore, they were The Six. Implied equal partnership. And still...

"He's thinks it's his band, Y/n."

"Then talk to him about it."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n sat up, a crease formed between her brows.

He wasn't quite expecting that question. But, after a bit of stumbling, he came to what he thought was a reasonable answer: "Because he doesn't listen."

Y/n just looked at him like that was the dumbest thing he had ever said. "Well then make him listen."

"Yeah, alright. and how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

She didn't answer immediately, thinking. Eddie thought for a moment that he might have won.

EDDIE: There wasn't really a way to win an argument with her. Not really.

After a moment she turned to him. "A war isn't just two guys screaming at each other, Ed. They need soldiers, armies. Let me be your army."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like watching you get pushed around. It's kind of...sad."

"Thanks."

"You asked."

They lapsed into silence again. Y/n laid back down on the floor, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. When she spoke again, it was so quiet, Eddie wasn't sure at first if she was talking to him or to herself. "I just...I'm on your side, okay? So don't make it any harder to be."

EDDIE: I never quite got that, you know? "I'm on your side." I had no idea why she'd be on my side. Billy was the frontman, Billy was the guy you looked up to. And there she was, trying to help me out without me even asking. I guess I thought, am I really that pathetic? [Laughs] I probably don't want to know the answer to that. I don't know why she was on my side, I really don't. But it was good to know. Made me feel like, aside from all the melodrama that came with rock n' roll, I had something to hold on to.

By the time SevenEightNine was done, the CEO of Runner Records, Rich Palentino, was not impressed. In fact, in his opinion, the entire collection of songs they had collectively poured their hearts and souls into, did not have a number one single among it. Teddy Price decided to take things into his own hands, and that's when Daisy Jones got involved.

The plan was to take 'Honeycomb' ― a song Billy had written about the life he had promised Camila ― and add a female vocal onto it, a sort of call and response duet.

Needless to say, Billy was not happy about the arrangement.

GRAHAM: He had just gotten back from rehab and was finally making things right with his wife and his daughter, and they wanted to bring a new chick in to "fix" his song. I can see why he was upset. I just think that he could've handled it better.

EDDIE: He threw a fit. So, naturally, everybody tried to do things to appease him. Graham had the idea that Karen could sing the female part.

KAREN: Like I said, I can back up a chorus, but I can't hold my own.

EDDIE: Y/n was thrown into the mix.

KAREN: Eddie put "Y/n" and "solo" in the same sentence and she looked like she was going to vomit. We moved on.

GRAHAM: Eventually Billy got the gist that Daisy was what we needed. At least, Teddy thought so. And Billy would take Teddy's word over his own any day of the week.

BILLY: I thought, "Fine. If this Daisy girl wants to try it, we'll let her try it."

Daisy was brought into the studio within the next couple of days, marking the first time she ever officially worked with The Six. She was generally well received by all its members (except maybe Billy) and found a fast friend in Y/n.

Firstly, they were the closest in age, and, when you're thrown into a new environment surrounded by strangers, that tends to be what you gravitate towards. That, and Y/n had the special ability of getting the boys to shut up long enough to let her do her thing. That was especially important.

DAISY: The first time I got into that studio to record, the rest of the band crowded at the window, staring at me like I was an elephant in a zoo. It was unsettling. I was probably on the verge of yelling to them to give me some room to breathe when I saw Y/n and Karen dragging them out by their collars, kicking them out of the room until they were the only ones left. That meant a lot.

Despite Billy's every attempt to complain, Honeycomb was released featuring Daisy Jones. Billy was stubbornly pessimistic about the whole thing, of course. And by the time the recording and mixing of 'Honeycomb' was done, it was completely different from the song Billy had first pitched. He felt that his vision had been trod upon in a most disrespectful manner, so much so that, when it was first played, start to finish, for the entire band, the walked out the second the record stopped.

They all watched him go with confusion ― the song was good. It was great, even, but Billy hated it so much that he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as it. And this was before Camila started coming to recording sessions, so no one really wanted to follow him out. Especially not Eddie.

So after the door slammed, they all spent a tense few seconds looking around, sharing confused and annoyed looks over Billy's outburst, and when it became clear that no one was going to do a damn thing about it, Y/n sighed and got up. "Looks like I have to do everything around here, huh?"

She found Billy outside, leaning on the hood of his car, staring at the slowly heating pavement in the California sun. He had his hands crossed over his chest, not unlike a kid who had just gotten his toy taken from him. He didn't look up when Y/n stepped outside, but he spoke the moment she was within earshot: "We're not releasing it."

The reply that came back was a sharp, loud laugh from Y/n. "Fuck you, we're not releasing it. It's a good song. Probably the best one we've ever made."

"You don't get it," Billy shook his head, "that's my song that she's singing. Mine. The one that I wrote about my wife."

"It's not about your wife, Billy," Y/n said. "It's an apology to your wife. You asked us all to make it and we said yes, so don't go acting like you're the goddamn puppet master pulling all the strings. You asked us to make the song, and we said yes. And it's our band. Your song, our band. Sometimes we have to make decisions that don't please your every fucking whim because it's our band and we want to take it as far as we can. And this song, Billy? This is how we do that."

He said nothing, continuing to stare at the ground.

"We're releasing it as soon as we can, and the world is gonna lose its fucking mind. At least you can go home and tell your wife that everyone loves her song."

Billy looked up then, some of his scowl melted away. Y/n grabbed him by the wrist, uncrossing his arms and pulling him back towards the studio. "Now the least you can do is go be civil to your bandmates and to the girl who just made us a number one single."

Eventually she succeeded in dragging him back into the recording booth, to the surprise of everyone already there.

"He threw a fit; I told him to shut up and get over himself. So, when can we release it?" Y/n asked, looking to Teddy.

BILLY: Just like that, she told me to get my act together and got me back in that studio. It was a little harsher than it had to be, but it worked. She had perfected the art of making someone realize how much of an asshole they were being at that point. I think she used it most on me. Occasionally Warren. If it weren't for her, I don't know if I would've gotten back in that studio. Because I don't know if anyone else would've walked out to get me.

Just as Y/n had predicted, 'Honeycomb' quickly sailed to the top of the charts. It generated national attention, with the whole world seeming to suddenly ask the question, Who the hell is The Six?

Daisy Jones had singlehandedly brought them to the top, and it pissed Billy Dunne off to no end.

The rest of the band, however, was enjoying their newfound celebrity. Their album, SevenEightNine, came out soon after, putting them on the road for their first tour ever. Daisy was set to be their opening act ― which, again, did not exactly please Billy. But she was a magnet. Where Daisy went, people seemed to follow.

As the days counted down before they left, they did what they knew best: partying. Y/n, in particular, found herself spending increasingly more and more time with Daisy.

DAISY: Not everyone was on board with me having a hand in the band's success, I knew that. But I had a place at the Marmont that had a pool. And back then, that was all it took to be okay in Y/n's book.

―

[The following is a transcription from an interview with Rolling Stone. On June 2, 1975, Jonah Berg sat down with Y/n L/n to discuss the band's recent success and life on the road.]

JONAH: Where do you think you'd be right now? If you weren't in a band, I mean?

Y/N: [Pauses. Smiles] Somewhere in the ocean.

JONAH: No thoughts as to a career?

Y/N: You didn't ask about a career. You asked what I'd be doing right now. And that's it ― I'd be in the ocean. And I'd be in whatever career got me there.

[This marks the end of the transcript.]

―

WARREN: The girl is a fucking fish.

DAISY: She'd go under for as long as she could, come up for a single breath, and go back under again. Over and over and over. You can't get a single word in that girl's ears when she's in the water.

KAREN: Y/n had a habit of getting...obsessed. With people, with music, whatever it was that caught her interest and held it. And Daisy...[pauses] Daisy did that.

EDDIE: I'm not so sure it was a great thing that Daisy and Y/n became friends when they did.

In Laurel Canyon, Y/n was often the first to come home. In fact, whenever another band member stumbled in, they could most likely count on the fact that if they shouted, "Y/n, I'm home!" they'd hear her yell "Good. Go to sleep!" in response. But that night, it was not the case.

After all the band members had returned for the night, Y/n was still at the Marmont with Daisy. Her hair and clothes were still drying from when she had jumped in the pool an hour previous ― well, she either jumped or she was pushed. She couldn't quite remember now.

Dozens of people had crowded around the pool, drinking and doing whatever drugs came their way. More than once, Daisy and Y/n would stop their stroll to knock back some pills passed their way or do a line off a pool table. Y/n started to wonder what time she had to get home when she noticed Oh, the sun is coming up. Has the sun always been that purple?

"Daisy, what time is it?" she asked, looking to her left. But Daisy had disappeared. There was a splash, and suddenly Daisy was floating in the pool with her nicest Caftan dress billowing around her. She looked like some kind of mystical sea nymph, or so Y/n thought.

"DJ!" Y/n yelled at her, catching her attention. "I need to go home."

Daisy, of course, wouldn't hear of it. Parties didn't end until she thought they were over. "No, no come on! Just stay a little longer!"

"I can't, I...we have rehearsal in the morning."

Daisy sighed, splashing somewhat disappointedly. "Mkay. Fine," she sighed, swimming over to the edge, "can you at least help me out?"

She held a hand out, which Y/n took. Stupid decision, of course. Daisy just pulled her into the pool, causing an eruption of cheers around them.

As she hit the water, Y/n briefly thought that she had some reason to be upset with Daisy, but she couldn't quite remember why. Within a moment, all discomfort had disappeared, completely forgotten, and she was perfectly ready to stay as long as Daisy wanted.

That was, until she came up for air and saw Billy standing there at the edge of the pool.

For a moment, Y/n just stared up at him blankly. Then, she splashed water on him. He looked at her in confusion and she explained, "I had to make sure you were really there and I wasn't just making you up."

"Y/n, it's time to go." he said.

"Oooookay," she said slowly. "I'll get a taxi in a little bit."

"No, this isn't some kind of courtesy call. It's time to go now."

Y/n huffed in response, swimming over to the side. She was too tired (or doped up) to argue. Really, Billy's presence reminded her that she had a house with her own bed. And she realized right then how much she really, really wanted to be in bed.

"Who told you I was here?" she said as she attempted to hoist herself out of the pool.

"Eddie did," Billy replied, helping her out. "Something about you not knocking."

"That son of a bitch," she muttered. "Where is he?"

"Back at the house. Asleep."

"I want Eddie. Get him here."

"You'll see him in the morning."

Y/n, not satisfied with that answer, pushed Billy away, anger curling her hands into fists. "I don't need you to tell me what to do, Billy. I'm a fucking adult. I know when I've reach my limits."

Billy looked at her. Mascara and eyeliner had traced gray lines down her face. Her hair and clothes were soaking wet, clinging to her, dripping onto the pavement. For a second, the hardened look on her face reminded Billy of the day she wandered into their garage and stole the drum sticks straight from Chuck's hands. She didn't look much older now than she did then.

"Just get in the goddamn car."

"No."

"Get in the car."

"No!"

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

She looked down suddenly and noticed a deep cut on her right hand. She frowned at it, but didn't seem that surprised at its existence. "That was there when I got here."

Billy more or less forced her into the passenger seat of the car, where she hung her hand out of the window, letting the blood drip onto the pavement rather than onto the seats.

In the less than ten minute drive home, Y/n talked until she was laughing hysterically at her own jokes, stuck her head out the window and howled at the moon, and finally sat in silence long enough that she started to cry.

Eddie woke up that night to a book hitting him in the face. He jolted awake, looking around wildly. And then, in the dead silence of his room, Y/n's voice came from the doorway. "Snitch."

She shut the door after that, and he heard her stumbling footfalls down the hallway.

And while that should've been the last time Y/n partied with Daisy, it wasn't. She went the next night, and the night after that. The knocks on Eddie's wall became less and less frequent until they stopped all together.

Daisy became her favorite pastime.

"You're in love with Eddie, right?" Daisy asked. They were both lying on the ground outside at the Marmont, letting their heads hang over the pool so that only their hair soaked in the water.

At her question, Y/n shot up, her wet hair drenching her back with cold water instantly. "What?"

"Oh, sorry," Daisy said, still hanging there. "I just thought...you know..."

Y/n did not, in fact, know. She turned to Daisy, a crease formed between her brows. "Why would you think that?"

Daisy sat up then, her impossibly long hair acting like a weight that she had to struggle against to sit up. "You're always lookin' at him when you're rehearsing. At a certain point it was like...I could count on the fact that when I walked into the studio, you'd be right next to him."

As Daisy spoke, Y/n felt herself frowning deeper and deeper. Eddie...Eddie was her best friend. That was for sure. He was the one she went to when she wanted to talk to someone.

Three thoughts emerged as Daisy talked.

One: I am not in love with Eddie Roundtree.

Two: I'm in love with Eddie Roundtee.

Three: It's so obvious it's sad.

Daisy kept talking, oblivious to her sudden revelation. "I get it, you know? If you really like him, you should just go for it. He's a nice guy, and he looks at you as much as you look at him."

Y/n excused herself then, claiming she felt sick. Well, that was mostly true ― she did feel sick. But not the type of sick that drinking generally made her. The kind of sick that came from thinking too hard, too quickly.

But instead of coming back, she left the Marmont, walking home with bare feet. She was still dripping with pool water, freezing her ass off the whole way home, but she was too deep in her own head to really realize it.

She made it back just as the sun was starting to come up, falling asleep on the couch rather than in her room. She slept fitfully, waking up every half hour or so thinking she had said something in her sleep that she couldn't take back.

The next night, she didn't go back to Daisy's. In fact, when Eddie heard Y/n's bedroom door shut before midnight, he frowned, wondering momentarily if she had just imagined it. Then, to test the theory, he knocked. It was the tune to the newest song by the Kinks. He didn't think too long about the song, really, he just wanted a response.

For a moment, none came. He waited patiently, silently, for any response. There was none.

Sighing, he settled back down on his bed, deciding that that was the last time he'd knock. There was no point in knocking to no response.

But a few moments later, the response came ― this time at his bedroom door.

He paused, sitting up, part of him wondering if he'd completely imagined it. Either way, he had to check. He got up, leaving his bass on the bed, heading to the door. He opened it and Y/n stood in the doorway, hair still wet from a shower.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Hi."

And then, before he had the chance to say anything else, she stood on her toes and kissed him. He was so taken by surprise that he practically froze as he kissed her back, only to be unfrozen by her pushing him further into the room and kicking the door shut behind them.

EDDIE: [Pauses. Takes a deep breath] Oh, wow. Um. Yeah, sure. Yes. I did…I did love Camila. But, everyone loved Camila, you know? Maybe it was…at one point I thought maybe…[pauses] it’s not important. The love I had for Camila…it was painful. It was so much stuff that had nowhere to go, so it just sat. Weighed me down. And Y/n was the first person who, I don’t know, made it lighter.

The next morning when Y/n woke up, she was clearheaded for what felt like the first time in years. The sunlight didn't make her head pound, she didn't feel nauseated, and she didn't have to check herself to see if she'd acquired any news injuries from the night before.

When she rolled over, Eddie was there, still asleep. Her lips parted slightly at the sudden reminder that the previous night hadn't been a dream. And the reminder of Eddie's presence next to her reminded her that there were, in fact, several other people in the house.

She sat up and saw Eddie's shirt at the edge of the bed. She reached for it, leaning over and tapping Eddie on the shoulder. "Hey," she said. He stirred a bit. She held up the shirt. "Can I borrow this?"

"'Course." he responded sleepily. "You leaving?"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't be far. Just down the hall" she said with a smile. He laughed slightly at that, and she gave him a quick kiss on the side of his lips. She tried to get up then, but Eddie caught her wrist, pulling her back down to him. He wrapped an arm around her, pressing his lips to hers. She found herself smiling as he kissed her, a chill running down her spine.

Eventually he let her go and she slipped his shirt over her head. She went for the door, pausing before opening it. "We're going to talk about this later, by the way."

Eddie frowned. "What's there to talk about?"

She paused, thinking. "Maybe talk is the wrong word for it."

She gave him a sly smile, causing him to roll his eyes and bury his head in his pillow. She laughed quietly, opening the door as quietly as she could and shutting it behind her. And as she went to walk into the hallways, she saw Warren standing there, a beer can in one hand.

WARREN: She looked at me with this doe in headlights look, and I just knew she was going to ask, so I told her before she had the chance.

"We have thin walls."

WARREN: Man, the look on her face right then. [Laughs] Priceless. I was so drunk the night before, I didn’t hear shit, but one look at her—the messy hair, the smudged makeup—you just knew. I was happy for ‘em. For once it felt like I wasn’t waiting for the shoe to drop, you know? It just…dropped. I was happy for them.

Y/n said nothing to him, simply turning and walking away, causing Warren to chuckle to himself.

Billy and Camila moved out of the house in Laurel Canyon soon thereafter, wanting to have a home to call their own. That left the more, well, irresponsible band members to themselves.

One day, Warren returned to the house to find Graham, Karen, Eddie, and Y/n on the back porch, slumped in chairs, staring at the air in front of them like they were waiting for something.

"What are you guys on and can I have some?"

WARREN: It was mescaline, because of course it was.

"How long does it take to kick in?" Warren asked.

Karen shrugged. "Depends on the person."

A few seconds later, Warren suddenly stood up, stumbling slightly. "Whoa..."

Y/n giggled, then frowned. She moved her head back and forth, side to side, like she was weighing it. "Guys, my head is getting really heavy. Too heavy. How much should my brain weigh? Can brains gain weight? Do I have an overweight brain and I didn't notice it until now?"

"If you had an overweight brain, you wouldn't have failed math." Warren said. "Now, I-I feel on a molecular level, you know, like me and the canyon, we are..." he trailed off, then clapped, "Ha! No, we're the same, man."

Karen laughed. "Warren and Y/n are feeling it, clearly."

Graham laughed, and then suddenly he went slack, eyes wide. "Oh shit..." he put his hand over his stomach, "I can't feel my heart."

As Karen went to make sure his heart was actually beating (which, of course, it was ― he was just looking in the wrong place for it), Y/n turned her attention to Eddie. He was staring at his hands like it was the first time he was seeing them. She looked at her own, waving them in the air like she was trying not to hurt the air.

Y/n and Eddie had kept their, well, for lack of a better word, tryst, from the rest of the band members. Except, of course, Warren who had found out completely by mistake. As Y/n inspected her hands, she let one fall to the side, landing on Eddie's thigh.

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

"No, Graham, it's there."

"Karen, I can't feel my heart. It's gone, man."

Y/n slid her hand further up his thigh, trying her best not to giggle at the way he tried to keep his cool under her touch.

"Can-Can we call a doctor or something?"

"Graham. Move your hand up."

Graham frowned, looking down. Then moved his hands to the correct place and, upon feeling his heart beating steadily underneath his palms, sighed in relief. "Oh. Thanks."

Eddie suddenly stood up, startling all of them. Without a word, he took Y/n by the hand, pulling her back inside. Y/n giggled then, already going to unbutton her shirt.

Karen and Graham watched them go in confusion. "What the hell is up with them?" Graham asked as the door shut behind them.

Warren just raised his half empty beer can in their direction. "L'Chaim," the declared, then drank it all in one sip.

Thanks to Honeycomb, The Six had been put on the map. They were touring for their first album with Daisy Jones as their opening act. It was on that tour that they all got their first taste of real fame of screaming crowds and fanatic fans.

Towards the end of the tour, the decision was made that Daisy would join the band, and they would soon become known as Daisy Jones & The Six. After the tour, they were on their way to creating their first album with Daisy on the team.

EDDIE: Things were perfect. Well, I didn’t think they were perfect at the time. I still wasn’t getting along with Billy, I didn’t feel like I had any creative control, I basically felt like a second-class citizen even though I had been there from the beginning. But I had Y/n, and the band was successful. If I had been able to put down my pride and look at my life from a couple steps back, I probably would have thought, damn…this ain’t bad. I never really guessed how bad things would go downhill after that.

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