#i just think it's a fun thought ! yay echoes

[kociamieta]

i imagine ascension doesn't happen instantly.

maybe it's a slower process - with each step into the void sea, you lose more and more of yourself. maybe it would give an ancient enough time to consider: is this what they really want? to leave everything behind? maybe it's not too late to go back, to something they loved after all?

but it's too late, the process has begun. thinking they have escaped, they realize only a shadow of their former self remains.

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 700

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. this is just a short prologue to show how things end (yay happy endings!), but the two have a lot of trauma to go through before they reach endgame. i love kinich's character and design so i'm excited for this! interaction is highly appreciated :)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

Kinich thinks he’s loved you since forever.

He has no way of proving that, of course; those years are long gone, and even if he had the opportunity to ask, he’s not sure his younger self would have a comprehensible answer. He can only see now that he’s come so far, when the memories are too murky to make sense of but the warmth remains—when he thinks of your smile and feels something akin to the weightlessness of grappling and flying through the trees.

He says “forever” because he really has no idea when it started—the realization came far after the feeling. He’d been before school age when he met you for the first time, and it’s been over a decade since then.

“Kinich!”

Your call interrupts his thoughts, and his gaze is drawn skyward—you’re standing somewhere far above him, on one of the walkways lining the cliffs of the Scions of the Canopy. You’re waving so wildly and ridiculously that it almost makes him smile.

“Are you coming down?” he calls through cupped hands, well-acquainted with this kind of long-distance communication. Sound tends to echo well between the cliffs here, and he’s sure you heard him when you offer an enthusiastic thumbs-up in return. 

“Yup! I bought a few things, so I was hoping you could help me carry them home!”

Kinich rolls his eyes teasingly. “Somehow I doubt that you have enough Mora left to afford my services.”

You pout in reply. Ajaw decides to appear then, a malicious puff of smoke over Kinich’s shoulder. “Of course not! You better not be making fun of me, letting some mortal treat you like a servant! The Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, won’t take this kind of disrespect—”

Ignoring his wordy introduction, you call down to Kinich again. “I’m coming down! Think fast!”

“—Don’t make me lau—wait, what?!”

Even Ajaw yelps in surprise as you take a running leap off the walkway, freefalling fast down the plane of the cliff. If he were any younger, Kinich might’ve had a heart attack. But you’ve been pushing your luck with him for years, and it comes as instinct when Kinich grapples up, deftly catching you in his arms with a light ‘oof’.

You’re holding a few boxes in your arms, he notices, and you smile. 

“I bought some Puff Pops for us to share later. I was thinking we can do some climbing, or there’s this cave I’ve been meaning to explore.”

His heart does a sort of flip that cannot be attributed to the way you fly through the sky. It’s all so much: the sensation of your warmth pressed against him, the scent of the wind rushing past, and the laughter of his tribe members below. Their eyes shine as they watch the two of you pass above them, chuckling at the familiar sight. 

And really, he can’t remember ever being this happy. When he thinks of how much it took to reach this point, the heartbreak and trauma aren’t the first things to come to mind. Instead, it’s you. The way you held him, the way you cried for him, the way you chased him. Always laughing, always in love.

Too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice your curious stare for a moment. You poke at his cheek, and he startles, nearly dropping you both.

“Is something wrong?” you ask shyly, suddenly self-conscious of the box in your hands. “We don’t have to do any of that. Really, if you have a high-value job or something, I understand.”

Ajaw decides to butt-in again, reddened with rage. “Yes, all of that sucks! I mean, seriously, don’t you have anything better to do—”

“No, it’s great,” Kinich murmurs in reply, flicking Ajaw away with a strong hand—the Saurian’s roar dissipates with the wind. He holds you tighter against his chest. There’s nothing worth more to him than you. “That all sounds really, really amazing.”

As the two of you burst through the trees, laughing the whole way, he thinks that it doesn’t really matter when he started to love you. All that matters is that he doesn’t stop.

Kinich thinks he’ll love you forever.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

"I don't enjoy solitude."

I was thinking about this line and I find the context of it really interesting because on the surface it suggests that Echo doesn't like being by himself, which is true, but the conversation wasn't about Echo being alone. Omega was asking him if he wanted to join in with some meditation, and that's when Echo said he doesn't like solitude. It isn't just being by himself physically. It's being left alone with his own thoughts that really gets to him.

And it's so much of why Echo never sits still. He's always with someone or doing something because it's how he escapes being inside his own head. The only time I can think of where Echo is just sat by himself, not actively doing something, is here

And it's not exactly giving "yay fun happy Echo times". It's more "depressed and thinking about all of his dead brothers times."

This is why he's always doing something. Not just to save his brothers but because the one thing Echo can't do is sit still and do nothing. He can't retire, he can't go and live a chill life on Pabu because this man hasn't found a way to temper his own thoughts. He just keeps going and going and going because stopping means confronting what's in his head and he is undoubtedly going to spiral.

And I think that's partly why Hunter is a little hesitant about Echo staying in the Rebellion. It isn't just about the fact that the Empire is too powerful, or that Echo has a chance of being KIA, it's also about the fact that Echo will just run himself into the ground. There's only so long he can keep it up for and one day he's going to hit his limit.

I don't know what the end is for Echo. The only way he's going to kick his feet up and retire is when he actually heals enough to not go into a depressive episode or a panic attack every time he isn't distracted. Yes, Echo is better than he was when he was first rescued, but realistically this man has done almost fuck all actual processing of anything he's gone through.

Because it terrifies him.

And that's so valid. But when everyone in the fandom is trying to work out where he is or what happens to him, I genuinely don't know. I strongly believe he will stay in the fight for as long as he can. But how his story ends? I can't say.

Edit: I want to clarify that I don't think Echo is only in the fight purely as an escape mechanism. I just think it'd definitely a big player in why he never seems to stop.

[caitified]

teacher

kate martin x reader

warnings:none

kate teaches eva to play

after tucking in your six-year-old daughter, eva, you headed to your bedroom, thinking the day was finally winding down. she had been at school all day, and all you wanted was a quiet evening. little did you know, kate had other ideas.

once you were out of sight, kate peeked into eva’s room, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “hey, superstar,” she whispered, nudging eva awake. “how about a little adventure?” eva’s eyes lit up as she nodded eagerly, excitement bubbling within her.

they tiptoed down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, their giggles echoing in the stillness of the house. outside in the driveway, the moonlight cast a soft glow, perfect for some secret fun. kate pulled out a mini basketball she had stashed away, and eva squealed in delight.

“okay, here’s how you shoot,” kate said, demonstrating with exaggerated flair, her tall frame bending slightly as she flicked the ball toward the hoop. the ball arched beautifully before landing in the grass. “see? easy peasy!”

eva, with her hair tousled and eyes shining, took the ball eagerly. “my turn!” she exclaimed, mimicking kate’s stance. she bounced it awkwardly, giggling as it slipped from her grasp and rolled into the driveway.

just as you were settling down for the night, you heard the sounds of laughter drifting in from outside. curious, you peeked through the window and felt your heart swell at the sight of kate and eva sharing this moment, their laughter blending in the night air.

you couldn’t help but smile but decided to put on a show. you opened the door, stepping out onto the driveway with a faux frown. “and just what do you think you’re doing out here, young lady?” you called, crossing your arms in mock disapproval.

eva turned, wide-eyed and giggling. “mommy! we’re just practicing basketball!”

“is that so?” you said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “and you thought i wouldn’t notice you sneaking out?”

kate shot you a cheeky grin. “we were just having a little fun. i promise she’ll be ready for the wnba in no time!”

“hmm,” you replied, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “and what do you think your other mommy would say about this little escapade?”

“not a word!” kate exclaimed, her smile infectious. “just a few more minutes, i swear.”

with a dramatic sigh, you stepped fully into the driveway. “alright, but just for a few more minutes. then it’s straight back to bed!”

“yay!” eva cheered, bouncing the ball. the three of you spent the next few minutes playing under the stars, the driveway transformed into your little basketball court.

you joined in on the fun, teasing kate about her form while cheering for eva’s every attempt. “look at you! you’re a natural!” you encouraged, clapping when eva made her first shot, albeit a little lucky.

as the night wore on, you felt your heart warm at the sight of kate and eva together, their bond unbreakable. eventually, you knew it was time to call it a night. “okay, basketball stars, time to head inside. we can’t let the neighbors think we’re crazy.”

“can we do this again tomorrow?” eva asked, her voice sleepy but hopeful.

“of course,” kate replied, wrapping her arm around eva’s shoulders as they walked back inside. “every day if you want.”

as you tucked eva in once more, you couldn’t help but smile at how magical the evening had turned out. you exchanged a glance with kate, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

“goodnight, sweetheart,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from eva’s forehead. she smiled sleepily, clutching her favorite stuffed animal. you turned off the light, leaving the door slightly ajar, and settled into your own bed.

but you couldn’t shake the warm feeling that lingered from the evening. as you lay there, listening to the soft sounds of the house settling around you, you heard a quiet shuffle in the hallway. curiosity piqued, you peeked out of your room just in time to see kate and eva sneak back outside.

you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head at their antics. it was moments like these that made all the chaos of parenting worth it. even though they were supposed to be winding down for the night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy watching them bond.

with a smile, you returned to bed, knowing that tomorrow would bring more laughter and love. after all, with kate and eva in your life, every day was an adventure waiting to happen.

[dellalyra]

Hi love I’m back for a bit anyways I was going through my notes and I saw your folder with request ideas that I had and didn’t request yet and since you finally hit 2k i can still do it so yay!

You remember that scene in the manga where they had to train gojos infinity by basically throwing things at him? Yeah so what I was thinking is that moment and also just to make it funnier I just know they were throwing things at him at the speed of light just to make sure something hits him and they moved up to heavier massive objects just for fun so something like that please. :)

ᴜɴᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ - ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

Pixie Says: this was so fun soraya you are my queen I stg I loved writing this

“Did it hit?” You shout across the field.

“No! Do it again?” Satoru’s voice echoes back.

Shoko hands Geto another tennis ball, and he proceeds to fire it across the field - towards an unperturbed Gojo.

“What about that one?” Shoko asks.

“Nope! Do something bigger! Geto - where’s our basketball?” The white haired man says, with all the excitement of a puppy.

Geto rolls his eyes, but smiles slightly - a rare sight these days - as he wanders toward the dorms to grab his ball.

“Think fast!” Shoko shouts, throwing an apple at Gojo’s head.

The apple splits in half and falls to the floor as you and Shoko cheer with Gojo at yet another object infinity can reflect.

Geto jogs towards them, and tosses the orange basketball at his best friend - it bounces straight off and back toward Geto who grabs it in one large hand.

“Okay - we gotta think bigger.” You say, hands on your hips and looking around the courtyard.

Shoko strolls off, only to come back a second later with a chair from one of the classrooms.

“Jesus Koko - I meant like - a pillow.” You try to take the chair but Gojo interrupts by shouting ‘throw the chair!’.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, you allow Geto to swing the chair toward your man who is gleefully jumping at the prospect of having a chair flung in his direction.

The wood splits in half and falls with a clunk to the ground. Geto claps and whoops at the mess left, all four of you cheering, a mutual love of chaos being the thing that bonded you all three years ago.

“Okay but these are all like, blunt things. Can it stop weapons? Y/N, throw a knife at him.” Shoko says, patting down your thigh to find the holster you keep under your uniform skirt.

“Get your morguey hands outta my girl’s skirt, Ieiri!” Satoru shouts, tossing a tennis ball back at her.

“What about a knife, ‘toru?” You say, fully confident in your love’s abilities to not get stabbed (again).

You had been witness to his crazed intent to become stronger, and almost invincible, over the past few months since the incident. Marks left on everyone, a slight scar on Gojo’s pale throat, crisscrossed scars spanning the width of Geto’s broad chest - the scar of the sound of a gunshot penetrating a sweet girl’s head haunting every dream, hands stained with the blood of her best friends and the memory of shaking hands as she sewed their wounds shut for Shoko and the image of your soulmate bleeding out in your lap and the slash of scar across your thigh from the blow he landed as you tried to deflect him from Satoru.

If one good thing had come from it, it was the fact that it contributed toward the push you and Satoru both needed for getting your heads out of your asses and finally confessing just how much you loved each other that day after the mission in the abandoned hospital.

So you didn’t worry.

Shaking the thoughts from your head you whip your dagger out and spin it between your fingers.

“Ready, ‘toru.” You ask, smiling.

“Always, princess.” He smirks back.

You fling the knife with eerie precision toward him and see it clatter to the ground below an unscathed Gojo.

Another chorus of cheers erupts.

“We need to think even bigger.” Shoko says, deep in thought.

“I’ve got exactly the thing.” Geto says, smirk gracing his features as he looks straight toward you, and in one fast swoop you find yourself in his arms as he prepares to launch you across the field.

“Geto Suguru don’t you dare throw me! I swear to god I will fucking - AGHHHHHH.” Your words of warning are interrupted as you feel yourself fly through the air and then as soon as it started it stops with a jolt and a pair of strong arms wrapping around you, a sheen of sweat sticking to your skin.

You open your eyes, laughing at the turn of events, and see a pair of ice blue eyes, the colour which has been your favourite since you were 16, staring back at you with a wide smile.

“You caught me!” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck and realising that he’s switched his infinity off to hold you.

“Only a fool would drop a girl like you.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile.

“I can’t believe you just quoted scooby-doo and kissed me.” You say, burying your head into his neck.

“You love me.” He says, shrugging.

“That’s exactly why I love you.” You giggle as he gently returns you to solid ground.

“I love you more, but now, I believe you have revenge to enact.” He pats your head, and fixes your shirt.

“I do, thank you, ‘toru.” A peck on the cheek as you stand on the tips of your toes. You smile at him, and turn around.

“GETO SUGURU! YOU BASTARD, GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” You sprint toward the man who is laughing and beginning to back away slowly - away from the wrath of the future Mrs.Gojo.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

aww yeah ep 20 GOOD

I guess I do (very casual, broadstroke) episode commentaries now, halfway through the show lmao. Spoilers below!!

Bai Jiu BETRAYAL?

Wen Xiao WANTED?

Zhuo Yichen DETECTIVE-ING?

Ying Lei BACK?

*crowd cheers*

The dots are connecting like crazy with the big bad's whole inner core crusade and also with the simultaneous demon case like I did not recognize Ao Yin as the demon Li Lun first released eight years ago but oooh do I enjoy that minor payoff.

Love the repeated use of the demonic-spell-restraining sigils now that we've been introduced to them though I wonder why the Bureau doesn't ever seem to make use of them. Maybe they don't deal with enough powerful demons to need to paint those in their own (very empty) dungeon? Or perhaps just plot convenience. (edit: someone has pointed out the Bureau indeed uses them!! I'm just blind <3)

Anyway I kind of wish in the Chongwu Camp dungeon PSJ fought a little bc she's so cool in action and their bailing was a little abrupt, but it makes sense that they'd have an immediate getaway plan. Also this is an ep 19 comment but that line Mr. 3-Face Mask delivered about PSJ being fated to always be betrayed by her little brother(s) HURT. So good.

Back to the Bureau, I do love me a good framing, and I'm also happy to get a tiny bit of the episodic demon-murder-case style back. WX was v clever to hide out in Situ Mansion, and (small detail but) I appreciate that the others catch her up on the Bai Jiu thing onscreen. As an aside, I also like that the actress for WX got to be double-casted even just briefly. Seeing some of the actors get to play around with portraying various extremes in characterization and costuming is a ton of fun.

And then yay Bai Jiu backstory at last~! It's crazy how much that blood moon fucked up everyone's lives eight years ago huh.

Everything ZYC says to him is on point (and honestly, ZYC is really quite adept at comforting others, he just sucks utter ass at it when it's his fault and he has to apologize lmaooo) but of course my favorite scene in the whole episode is as follows:

The very slight shine in the waterline, the bittersweet smile/grimace as, deliberately or not, ZYC's words indirectly echo everything about the circumstances between the two of them right now??? Whew. They did that for me specifically.

Anyway, this was a good one to chew on for me, packed with plot movement enough that I didn't feel unsatisfied with just one episode. I'm glad that so far it seems like the release schedule bears in mind what episodes should be watched in pairs for maximum effect (eps 16/17, 18/19 specifically) and which ones are okay to stand alone for the day, but I also don't want to speak too soon haha. We'll see how ep 21 fares.

Also since this is a ZYC stan account (lmao) I have some obligatory ZYC thoughts that I haven't managed to fit anywhere else. I've been meaning to comment on this for a while now and was reminded by this episode: I love the fact that ZYC actually smiles quite often. I think it's a bit surprising every time he does because he so easily fits the archetype of stoic broody action hero, but it really is just an archetype he's fit himself into, and it's never clearer than when they flash back to smiley baby!ZYC (how freely and purely he used to give those smiles away...).

On the other side of this is also how caustic and biting he can be with his words, whether sarcastically or otherwise, and how clearly his face telegraphs his emotions in general. I love that he actually emotes quite a lot and isn't cold and unaffected in the least, just pouty frowny and awkward.

The last piece to this for me is probably his age (which I very much appreciated being established super early on) and how convincingly TJR portrays him as young and inexperienced and extremely earnest. He's so sincere in everything he does that it really doesn't take much to move him, which also (imo) makes his arc less overdone.

We all know from the start what direction his development will likely go, how he'll learn he's mistaken about ZYZ and how he'll grow to have a more nuanced view of the world as he creates more bonds with others. But he's so emotional and emotionally aware that it doesn't really take much push and pull to get him there. And actually, it's not untread ground to him—he is moreso thawing, in part returning to the open-hearted nature that he had to very abruptly shutter away rather than fundamentally changing as a person. I think to me, that makes his character more compelling to watch because his cynicism about the world is perhaps the least sincere thing about him. It's entirely learned, and not by choice. Relatable.

[alastorsfuckassbob]

With Her Song- 5

AlastorXFem!Reader part 5!

A/N: okay so this is egregiously long and could totally be two chapters (a grand total of 14436 words) but I think I've made yall wait LONG ENOUGH!!!!!!!! a l s o FUN FACT I LEARNED WHILE WRITING THIS, although turpentine is often used as a paint thinner modernly, in the olden days it was used to alleviate ailments such as soreness or pain. IT IS ALSO very very flammable!! It’s one of those old timey concoctions people would just kinda throw on whatever to fix an issue, but it often caused more pain than good. YAY for metaphors teaching me new little things. Shout out to hadestown for teaching me that silly little substance- pls I live under a fucking rock that’s probs painfully obvious. 

Plot: Y/n needs therapy but instead indulges in a few too many dinky drinks with friends-it goes painfully wrong and then painfully right and then with a dash of fan service we get some drunken closure!

Minors get the frick out..thank yew :)

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-A bit of ANGST

-Alcohol and drugs..duh

-Murder death and violence..the whole nine yards

-A LOTTT OF CURSING (are you surprised)

-we do kiss but its not fun but could be fun in the future

-overuse of thesaurus! (take a shot every time i say enraptured)

✨ WITHOUT FURTHER ADO ✨ (i did not proofread this LMAO)

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.” 

The words echoed through your mind. Each syllable reverberating into the depths of your soul, sowing the seeds of your own corruption. Their tone twists deeper, sharpened and volatile. The desolate look of his eyes was a time drenched rusted knife plunging deep into your skin, it radiated with a sincerity you weren’t ready to meet. 

The memory was soaked in turpitude turpentine, match struck and ablaze with frantic fire. No matter how many times you attempted to cleanse your thoughts of the memory, the words would bubble up from the ashes and form again. It was a festering wound that wouldn’t close. The defiled crimson that poured from your wounded heart manifested as chapfallen tears and somber sniffles.

You reach into your satin lined purse searching for any form of distraction. A box of cigarettes finds space in your grasp, the lighter following soon after. Your shaking hands remove the thin stick from its box, you click the lighter to no avail. It sparks in unspoken flames,  devoid of fuel, unable to battle the recollection displayed; it creeps in deeper both vivid and haunting. In a swift movement the objects fly across the room fleeting from your frustration. Your fingers fumble through the crowded labyrinth of the bags interior in search of your phone.  Your grasp gets tangled on the crumpled receipts of your latest purchases and various tubes of lip gloss before it meets the exterior of the device. 

The urgency of each swipe heightens and you frantically scroll through the contact list. Each name surfaced on the digital roster stirs a sense of unease within you. The majority of the contacts in your collection were nothing more than business associates. In your panicked swipes you come across a small picture of Angel followed by the name “Hot spider from work”. He had chosen the name himself upon entering his number into your phone, you hadn’t bothered to change it.  You dial the number before you can convince yourself otherwise. Your eyes release a rivulet of tears dotting the surface of the screen as you await an answer. Its insistent ring pulses into your hand, mimicking the anticipation of your heartbeat. The longer it hangs in the air the more your hope for connection begins to fade. 

With a soft click angel’s voice carries warmth and familiarity into your ears.

“Hey doll, I’m going out with Cherri tonight, I can’t talk long you need somethin?” He casually chimed accompanied by his typical charm. 

You attempted to speak but the words caught against the burning in your throat. A nearly silent sob wracked against his ears, muffled by the crinkling timbre of the phone line. 

“Oh shit..y/n are you okay?" His voice adopts a concerned cadence, the essence of compassion underscoring the inquiry. You hold back a sniffle as he continues to speak. ”Did something happen?” He pondered your apparent distress, his thoughts racing to find any plausible explanation. His mind shifted to your shared situation, casting an anxious shadow onto his usually brightened facade. 

 “Did.. Val do something?” A mixture of concern and fear manifested within his hesitant tone. 

“No its okay..I just wanted to talk for a bit. I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy” Each carefully chosen word placed a mask upon the turmoil and disorder you felt underneath. He listened through each layer of brightly shined forgery, not buying into its incandescent veneer. Angel was not the “purest” soul in hell by any means, but his heart was imbued with the care he held for his friends. Even if the words you spoke supported a sense of stability, there was no way he would take that chance. 

“Are you still at the club? I’ll be right over. I just need to let Cherri kno-”

“No, no- I don’t want to ruin your plans” You cut him off before the words left his mouth. Despite his borderline celebrity status, Angel wasn’t granted many friendships. With everything Valentino demanded, he didn’t have a lot of extra time to maintain the ones he did have. Whatever unrest Alastor had pervaded you with would have to wait; it wasn’t fair to ruin his downtime.

“I can get drunk off my ass another night from the sound of it you don’t need to be alone right now.” He spoke ignoring your words.Your friendship was the last semblance of normalcy in his hellish life. He would never outwardly admit how much, but he loved you. He would give up a hundred nights of drinking if it meant he could fix whatever had troubled you.

“Can I come with you?”  You asked hesitantly. The fear of isolation haunted you too much to completely drop the issue, perhaps you could just tag along. That way you can avoid your current predicament, and he would still be granted a night of well deserved fun.

“Yeah obviously.” He mocked “Is that even a real question.” A wave of sarcasm crashed against his words, a laugh erupting along with it. 

He took a moment to catch his breath, eventually his satirical outlook shifted into a short apprehensive silence. “Are you sure you’re up for it toots?” He posed, genuine worry at its core.

“Yeah I think it’ll be fun to get my mind off things..its just been a rough day” you say nonchalantly, as if you hadn’t just shattered the majority of your dressing room in your fight with Alastor.

“Kay I’ll let Cherri know we found a third”  You could practically picture the jokingly seductive smirk smearing across his expression through the haze of the phone. 

“Angel-“ You playfully rolled your eyes. You adored his flirtatious sense of humor more than you were willing to admit. Occasionally, the comments could become a tad repetitive, but for the larger majority of time, they were hilarious.

“You know you love me babes, I’m glad you’re coming with us. It took you long enough-you’ve been denying my invitations for months. We’ll pick you up in a half hour okay?” He prattled out, his tone teeming with an enthusiastic thrill.

“Yeah it should be fun..I’ve gotta get changed, see you when you get here” You laugh out, amused by his reactions. You haphazardly click the device off and toss it on top of your bag. You rush over to the disorganized hodgepodge of clothing hung on the rack within your dressing room. You tear through countless revealing outfits in search of something well suited for a night on the town.

 The numerous options you had tried on and promptly threw off piled up behind you. Nothing felt right, if the color was correct, you didn’t like the way it fit you, if the fit was accurate, the color was an atrocity. You were beginning to contemplate not going at all, if you weren’t going to look good there was no sense in going. You anxiously inch closer to the racks end, denying each ensemble until you reach the final matching set, a short ivory corseted top and its matching mini skirt. It wasn’t ideal, but still held a bit more merit than the previous options. The dress you had  been wearing pooled at your feet as you slid the new top over your head. As you stepped into the skirt,  your phone started to buzz again. You pick up the device and read the message.

“Don’t expect us to wait all night for you~ We’re here now babes get your ass out here so we can have a good time”

You hadn’t expected the time to pass so quickly. You briskly check your hair and makeup in your phones camera and the results aren’t appalling enough to justify being late. The skirt’s zipper flies to a hurried close as you grab your things and rush outside to meet Angel. 

Upon exiting the building, you are greeted with the well welcomed sight of the spider demon. He leans against the sleek black car. His eyes are glossed in disinterest, focused on the condition of his nails. As the front door clicks to a close behind you, he glances up in your direction. His bored demeanor fading to that of excitement. You send him a small sheepish wave as you walk towards him. 

“Hiya y/n~” Angel purred, wrapping all  his four arms around your frame. He lifted you into a bit of a spin as he hugged you. “Don’t you just look spectacular, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to impress someone” He lets out a clearly fake gasp. His face shifts into an overly dramatic display of satirical shock. “Is it me? Because I think it just might be me” He pinches your cheeks playfully before ushering you towards the car.  As soon as you’re seated angel’s legs are stretched across you, and his arms rest behind his head against the window.

“Cheri! This is y/n.” Angel spoke enthusiastically, excited to have finally introduced his two favorite friends. You sent her a small hello and a little wave. However, Cheri remained rather quiet. In the few times Angel had mentioned her, she never seemed like the type to stop talking, just so long as she had something to say. It was off-putting to be the source of her silence. It didn’t seem like the two of you were going to be fast friends or even slow ones. Angels face fell as he shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The tension in the air suffocated you, straightening your spine as you drifted in its asphyxiating poison. His confident posture shifted into that of hesitation. The strong smile he usually wore faltered as it cracked into a thin straight line. You noticed the subtle reflection of his inner most thoughts in each anxious twist of his hands. Cheri rolled her eye, and fixated it towards the other window; clearly unbothered by his newfound expression.

“Right..uh..Who’s ready to get fucked up” He asked brightly attempting to fix the mood. Cheri sent him a glare in response, his efforts had fallen flat. You weren’t entirely sure what to say or how to defuse this situation, so you opted for silence as well. Disappointment sank into Angel’s frame. He drew his legs back and shrunk down into his own seat.  The rest of the car ride was devoid of conversation of any sort. The only sounds within the vehicle were the trashy pop songs the car’s radio bothered to spit out, and the hum of the passing cars. 

 To be entirely honest, you weren’t sure why Cheri didn’t seem to like you. You had never met her until this point or truly even spoken a word in her direction, and yet she seemed so bothered by your existence. Angel clearly liked her for some reason, maybe she was just defensive around new people. You could work with that. The car jerks to a heavy stop in front of the neon lined club roughly yanking you from your thoughts. The building in front of you was a bit smaller than Valentino’s own club and yet it held the all the same destructive tendencies.  As the three of you stepped out of the car, it sped off at an inhumane speed, leaving you with no course of escape.

The room was unusually warm. It seemed to pulsate with the thumping base reverberating from the numerous speakers that lined the bar. The dance floor oozed in the addictive scent of expensive perfumes and cheap liquors. The neon glow from the flashing lights above haloed each demon in a glistening sacrilegious sheen. For a moment, you are caught within its immersive daze. The electric buzz of the atmosphere in each tiny connection ties you within its euphoric chains. For a moment, you are nothing more than a spinning cog in the club’s eccentric machine. Twirling. Swaying. Hypnotic within its rhythm, your body reflects that of the environment as you lose yourself in its captivating dance. 

“Y/n babes- we haven’t had a round yet, we’re here to get drunk and dance- not just dance” Angel’s playful voice snaps you back into reality. He grabs your hand and leads you to a quieter table in the back where  Cheri had already ordered the first few rounds of shots. 

Before you can truly sit down in the booth, your fingers grip around the small glass meeting it with your lips, the sharp tingling liquid burning down your throat. Within minutes the first few rounds were complete, despite your slightly stumbling form, you insisted on another. Angel, in a similar boat, gladly agrees leaving you alone in the neon glow with Cheri. As he walks towards the bar you feel the intensity of her gaze pricking into the exposed skin of your shoulders. Her voice officially calls your attention as she pulls out a small bag of miscellaneous pills.

“How about we get things really started”  A sly smile spread across her face as she spoke, dangling the bag between her fingers teasingly. “It’s nothing too harmful just a mild..stimulant” She added as she took two small circular capsules from their flimsy plastic container. She placed one on top of the cocktail napkin in front of you and one on her tongue. 

“What does that mean, what is it exactly” You ask hesitantly. You weren’t opposed to the idea of doing something of this sort, but it was best to know what you were getting into. In all honesty, Alastor wasn’t worth the onset taking something too serious would cause. Even in Hell, actions tend to have consequences.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re too good for this shit” She huffed kicking her legs onto the table, knocking a stray shot glass to the side with a soft clink. Your eyes widen in surprise by her reaction.

“No I wasn’t saying that- I just want to understand what I’m getting into..thats all” You stammered out attempting to diffuse any tension your response may have accidentally caused. She rolled her eye picking up the small white circle on the napkin.

“Don’t worry about that- it’s just to loosen you up so you can have a good time”.  She laughed nudging your arm slightly. “Its not serious..It’ll just help you forget” She sent you a soft smile placing the pill in your hand. Her eyes held a fragment of sadness, she would never mention it, but she had her own issues too. In her own odd way, she was just trying to help, and for some reason you couldn’t explain, you trusted her. 

You swallowed the pill as she pulled out a small circular tube. She pressed its edge against her lips and sent a puff of fruit mingled smoke in your direction. She wordlessly places the device in your hand, and you do the same. Its hazy pink light glows against the corners of your face as it activates. It wasn’t entirely like you to do something like this, but it seemed to help you get along with Cheri. That would make Angel happy to see his friends get along…After all, it was just to help you have a good time..No harm can come from a good time if thats all it is. The speakers of the club somehow grow louder as they sputter out a new, faster tune.

“Fuck I love this song” Cheri practically yells standing up from her seat. Before you can object, her hand takes yours, and you are dragged into the middle of the dance floor. She spins slightly as she rolls her hips yelling out the mumbled words of the song’s melody. It wasn’t long before your limbs began to echo the beat of each rhythm in tandem with her movements. Your mind glowed in a different sort of euphoria, your limbs seemed to float, slowing gliding through the tempo of the resounding pulse of your heart beat. Each person in the room seemed to blend together in watercolor warmth and decadent dancing pleasure, painting the picture of pure energy. With each spin you felt the weight of each memory sizzle off of your skin and evaporate into the air. You glance at Cheri beside you as her body swings under the  influence of the pure “ecstasy” of the moment. 

“I thought you were just gonna be another one of angel’s depressing friends-but fuck do you know how to party” Cheri laughed throwing her hands above her head as she swayed to the beat of the music. (White girl wasted asf) 

“Where did I go wrong to make you think that” You laugh with her spinning her around. 

“It doesn’t really matter, you just had that vibe” Her eyes drift to the demon behind you “More relevantly, I think ears over there is picking up a different vibe”

“What do you mean” You ask as she subtly points to the cat demon across the bar. His white fluffy tail resembled freshly fallen snow. On first glance, he held a gentle exterior. Golden chains strung from his neck dipped between his low cut lacy top and suit jacket. As your eyes wandered upwards, his seemingly innocent appearance was betrayed by his piercing red eyes. They soaked into his skin like freshly spilled blood. He glanced back at you, noticing how deeply your eyes were trained on him. He smiled revealing his razor sharp teeth and the edge of his forked tongue. His eyes raked up your figure, stopping just below your lips. His tail twitched as his sharp claws flexed against the metal countertop of the bar. He slid across a few dollars to the bar tender in exchange for two shot glasses. 

“Y/n- are you blind- do you not see how he’s looking at you?” Cheri’s teasing voice stole you from your observations. It was getting a bit harder to focus. theatre music blared against your ears breaking your concentration at every available instance. 

“I don’t know” You mutter out, unsure of what to make of the situation. It wasn’t like the demon wasn’t horrendously ugly, with his tall pointed ears and softy fuzzy exterior one might even refer to him as cute. 

“Well I do! I basically live here- so he’s not going to reject you or anything, you should go for it” Cheri said nudging your arm playfully while shooting a sly wink to the object of the conversation.  

“I’m not really here for-“ She cut you off before the uncertainty in your mind could hold the physical space of your words. 

 “Why not he’s cute right?” She quipped twirling a piece of her hair. 

“I guess.. he’s alright, I just don’t know if I’m ready for that..I know it’s not important but- ” You stuttered out. The amount you had already drank and the pressure Cheri seemed to apply made it much harder to express how you truly felt. You had come out with them to forget what had happened and more importantly your feelings for Alastor, but now that that sentiment had phased into reality, nothing about it felt right. You wanted to drown your sorrows and slip into a blissful moment of peace, not fill the hole he left in your heart with the pursuit of another demon. 

“Y/n don’t drag down the night with whatever bullshit is going on in your head. Don’t prove me wrong, I was just beginning to like you. Go dance with him, it’ll keep your mind off whatever you’re stuck on” Through the rough tone of her voice, there was almost a hint of desperation. She sent you a soft smile and nudged you further in his direction. The world seemed to slow down as each passing face lingered in your peripheral vision, each step tapering into slow motion as you walked in his direction. You had hardly given him a hello, before he shoved another shot glass into your hands.  He spoke mostly of himself as he ordered yet another round. The world started to feel less and less real as he whispered utterances of “baby” and “darling”  denying you the autonomy of a true name. He was enraptured with the beauty of your form, he couldn’t care less to anything that lived below that exterior. His hands rested against the exposed skin of your back as you pulled him to the dance floor.

You spin around giggling wildly as his fingers grip tighter into your flesh pulling you closer. His hips grind against your own, as his tail thrashes with the beat. With each sway, the world around falls into disarray. You can hardly make out Cherri’s grin and less than subtle thumbs up as she begins dancing with another demon she had come across throughout the entirety of your conversation. She grabs their hand and leads them out the door. Your dance partner senses your attention falling elsewhere, he places his thumb against your chin tilting it back in his direction. For just a moment, his deep red eyes seem to encapsulate a glimmer of  Alastor’s own. The longer you gazed into his eyes the more apparent it was that their darling shade of crimson was their only similarity. Alastor had never looked at you in such desperate hunger. His eyes always held an aura of care. 

“What do you say we get out of here baby? You’re a fantastic dancer, but I’d like to chat with you more.”

He whispers into your ear as he places a hand behind your neck. The two of you are impossibly close, teetering on the edge of a kiss. His hands trail down your back and underneath the hem of your skirt. You take a step back but his grip grows tighter, keeping you within his grasp.  Angel, who had been viewing the scene from afar, practically bolted in your direction. 

"y/n- who the hell is this?” Angel steps between the two of you sending the man a glare. 

 “Give us some space” You whisper, your eyes locked with Angel's. He rolls his eyes in response, turning his focus to the man you had been dancing with. “Yeah.. give us some space” he adds in his direction, bitterness overtaking his normally sweetened tone. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You retaliated taking a step away from Angel. "I promise. Its fine." 

 “It’s what I meant though…I’m all for blowing off steam at the end of a long day but this is going too far”  He huffs grabbing your wrist and leading you off the dance floor and towards the front of the building.

“Oh like you’re one to talk. You’ve been throwing back shots since before we got here. We were just talking” You mutter, as he opens the door to the exterior of the club.   

“No you weren't and you know it- Also Y/n.. I hate to break it to you, but you are like maybe five feet tall” He laughs, placing his arm on your shoulder. 

“Angel-“ you cross your arms, shrugging him off.

“MAYBE” He places his finger against your lips, effectively shushing you. “MAYBE with a few inches tacked on the end...Your tolerance isn’t going to be as high as mine” He sends you a playful wink. 

“Bullshit- I’m just having a good time” you retort slapping his hand away. 

“No, you aren’t. Nothing about your body language or your face or fucking anything about you even hinted that you were enjoying that” he huffs flinging his arms out dramatically. “What’s really going on with you?” he asks pointedly, the tension in his body visible as the fur on his chest puffed out a little more. 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t see why you care Cherri is doing the same things I am go bother her if your savior complex needs a new victim” you snap back at him. For a moment his face falls, his heart fragmented in the reflection of his eyes.  

“Babe- you’re wasted, you don't really mean that" he said with a small laugh in the attempt to mollify the situation on both sides. 

“everyone here is” you retort. You ignored the look in his eyes, tears pricking in your own as you turn back to the entrance of the bar. "Leave me the fuck alone Angel. We work together, you don't need to pretend to be my friend because you feel bad about yourself. I don't need pity especially not yours." you seethe placing your hand on the door in front of you. You knew you were being unreasonable, but whats said and done cannot be changed. Even if the rage you directed at him was not his to carry, fire does not care what it burns and bridges are not often rebuilt. Whats done is done, if Hell had taught you one thing, there was no way around that fact. 

“Can you just cut the shit and tell me what’s going on” He yells grabbing the sides of your shoulders. Your eyes grow wide shocked at his reaction. He lets out a sigh ”Look.. I'm sorry Y/n...I’m just worried about you.” his voice is barely audible. "I know I'm not the best friend in the world or even a good one, but you're all I've got. You don't get to tell me thats not worth anything so just cut it out and tell me whats wrong..this isn't like you." His grip on your shoulders softens and eventually falls as takes a step back.

“My ex-fiancee showed up at the club, its stupid I know its not important but that asshole knows how to get to me" you finally admit. 

“Oh realllyyy" His eyebrows raise suggestively. "Was it that cat sinner who used to work there- y/n i think you have a type," he laughs "but I always thought you two would be cute together” he smiles attempting to lighten the mood. 

His smirk drops as your face remains stagnant, clearly unamused. He sends you a more genuine smile, taking a seat on the curb patting the ground beside him.

 "It must be really bad if you've lost your taste for my impeccable sense of humor" he adds as you sat next to him indulging his invitation. 

“I knew him in life..he’s kind of the reason I ended up here.” you confess wiping the ghost of a tear from your face

“Oh.. y/n I’m sorry” Angel slings his arm around you offering a bit of comfort. 

“No-no don’t be I don’t want to ruin your fun with my sh-” 

“Y/n you aren’t ruining things,” He says resolutely, grabbing your shoulders with a playful shake "Just talk to me..if you want” His eyes house a desperation you were all too familiar with. Each shimmery pink spoke of his iris held tightly against your skin, begging for a fragment of honesty. 

“It’s fine really…He just.. didn’t have many nice things to say,” you mutter out, tearing away from his gaze and settling your own against the floor. 

“Shit, that’s rough.”  He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a half-hearted smile tugging at his lips as he tried to mask his discomfort with humor. He was never great with words, but that would never stop him from being there for you.

“Tell me about it” you laughed attempting to distract from the unmistakable break in your voice.

“That’s definitely a drinking to forget kinda night..” He let out a short laugh in response, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of genuine sympathy before they darted away to the ground between the two of you. His brow furrowed as he searched for the right words to say.

“I didn’t mean to get so upset with you..You’re your own person and obviously, you can handle yourself-you just aren’t used to this scene and I didn’t want you to end up in situations you’ll regret tomorrow- like I used to do..” He sighed deeply, running a hand through the fluff of his hair.

“Angel,” You said softly, your hand reaching out to gently touch his arm. 

“You’re better than I am y/n…I just didn’t want anything to happen to you..” His voice wavered rendering it nearly unrecognizable. His casually confident demeanor dropped, as he reflected on the details of his past. Your eyes met his in a moment of understanding, your smiles stretching within them, it was clear you cared for each other even if you had a hard time expressing it. 

“I’m really not. If anything you’re better than me, at least you know when to quit” You chuckle lightly. You take a deep breath unsure of how to accurately express much of anything. The whole night had been a rollercoaster packed with invisible turns and twists divulging into one fucked up experience. “I’m sorry Angel. I shouldn’t have said any of that to you..You’re my best friend it’s important to me that you know that”, your voice softens as you try to convey how much he truly meant to you.

“Don’t go all soft on me Toots, it’s just what friends do.” He says, his overtly confident tone returning as he playfully nudges your shoulder “What do you say we head back to the hotel and raid the bar? It doesn’t matter how shitfaced you get in the comforts of your own home.” The act he so obsessively put on would never drop for longer than a few moments, but it was always comforting to be within his company when it did. You could be yourself and who you had to be all at once as long as you did it together. 

“Self-destructive and Safe? Oh, count me in” You giggle, pulling a few small shot bottles you had smuggled out from your pockets. He takes one, clinking it against the one in your hand. 

After a slight walk, the two of you arrived at the steep entrance to the Hazbin Hotel. It had clearly seen better days, although not the eyesore it used to be, it still projected an aura of delapidation. Not that the two of you cared, it had been a long night and you weren’t done yet, this was just another place to keep the party going. Between stumbling fits of giggles you slumped against his side, taking his hand in yours he opened the large wooden doors into the building. 

“Welcome to The Hazbin Hotel a place where sinners don’t sin for a place to stay unless you ain’t being watched then anythings free game” Angel smirked lifting his arms out like some sort of circus showman. 

Alastor stood on the balcony of the hotel, his gaze fixed on the foyer below. The dim light from Hell’s perpetual sunset illuminated the scene, casting long shadows across the marble floors. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten back here after the fight. Each haunting memory of the argument was hazy, fractured like a broken radio transmission. One moment, he had been facing you, anger flashing between you both, and the next, he found himself back at the hotel.

“Must’ve been some form of magic,” he thought, though magic had never been something he entirely trusted, it was a necessity. Magic is synonymous with power, any and all magic was of use to him—he had long since mastered every trick of the trade—but you, you were something else entirely. How had you managed to fly under the radar for that long if your power was great enough to transport an overlord like himself against his will. 

His eyes narrowed slightly as his shadow slinked from the corner of the balcony, creeping along the edges of the stone like a living thing. It murmured softly, darkly.

“You could use this one, you know. A means to an end. You’ve already hurt her once…she could never love you again but you could still have her.." it hissed.

Alastor scoffed, shaking his head. “Do you never tire of your incessant suggestions, my dear shadow? She is more than that. Much more.”

"You could still use her to your advantage. She's weak, vulnerable, and she's already in your grasp..."

Alastor’s lip curled in irritation, a deep chuckle escaping him. “Do you ever shut up, you little wretch? She is no pawn.”

But the shadow’s words stuck with him, like a splinter in his brain. He could use you, he knew that. But something about it felt wrong, something he couldn’t quite explain.

He wasn’t naive. He could see the way the world operated—power was everything here. Yet as his eyes moved to the figure below, standing in the center of the lobby a pang of something softer tugged at his chest. It was you, severely intoxicated you, but still you. Always appearing when he least expected it. You had this uncanny way of showing up, out of nowhere, like some divine force ensuring he never quite lost sight of what he wanted.

And you were so... gorgeous. More so than anything he'd ever seen in this twisted hellhole.

The sight of you—draped in dim lighting, your features a perfect mix of both beauty and something darker, something uniquely you—left him breathless. His heart pulsed in his chest, almost painfully, as he watched you. He loved you, deeply, madly. The thought of it was strange, disorienting. For a being like him, who had long since abandoned all notions of softness, of attachment, it haunted him. Unfamiliar. But undeniable.

So there he stayed, out of sight and watching you with an intensity that could only be described as obsession. Your presence had shifted something in him, something he couldn’t quite control, and for once, that didn’t frighten him. It was almost... comforting.

The sound of footsteps echoed on the grand marble floors as you and Angel made your way toward the bar, Alastor watched you both intently from the balcony. The hotel loomed over you like a cathedral of excess, its luxurious interior drenched in shades of red velvet and deep crimson. The carpets were stained with the color of blood, and the chandeliers overhead seemed to catch the light in strange, angular ways, like broken glass. Despite the decor’s opulence, there was something unsettling about it all, a sense that everything here was just a little too perfect.

And then there were the windows. Stained glass windows lining the walls, depicting flowers—strange, foreign flowers whose forms never quite seemed to align with anything you knew. They were beautiful in their own right, yet so alien. They spoke of a beauty that was unattainable, untouchable, much like the lives you led here, in this place. They didn’t belong here... or maybe they did.

From your perspective, the hotel felt both too real and not real enough. It was alive in a way that made you uncomfortable, yet at the same time, it felt like you’d stepped into a delightful dream, one where you didn’t quite belong, but didn’t wish to leave.

Angel, sensing your quiet discomfort, nudged you with his elbow. “Relax, doll. It’s just another night in Hell. Let's grab a drink, yeah?”

His voice snapped you out of your trance, and you nodded, your gaze flicking back to the bar. Husk was sitting there, nursing a drink, his tired eyes flickering up at the two of you as you approached. He didn’t say anything but there was a knowing look in his eyes that made you wonder if he knew more about your situation than you did.

“Hey Husk, this is my dear friend Y/n who is in desperate need of a good drink” Angel practically yells grabbing a seat in front of the all too familiar bar of the Hazbin Hotel. 

“You’re just bringing everyone home these days” Husk mutters sarcastically glancing your way as he grabs three glasses from the shelf and a variety of bottles from the back of the bar. 

“Oh shut up, she’s a good one” Angel’s body slings over the bar as he speaks, he begins giggling at nothing or so it seems.  Husk’s typically bored eyes catch on the curve of Angel’s smile and the messy tousled hair that framed it.

 There is nothing more cruel in hell than the prospect of love.  His eyes filled with a pure haze of adoration, teeming in unyielding clouds of desperation. His smile grasping fervently at the raw precipice of vulnerability; entangled in the fear it could all slip away into the abyss of logic. These moments of observation became his own clandestine affair, a silent ache for an authenticity that Hell would never allow. He knew the way he felt for the spider demon was nothing short of love, yet their hearts were forbidden to intertwine openly. Angel had Valentino to deal with, and he had to deal with Alastor. It could never be anything more than lingering stares and passing glances, but oh how deeply he craved it. 

“How’d you wind up with this one? He’s not exactly a peach to be around.” Husk asks, tilting his head in your direction as he slides a glass to each of you.

“He’s the one good thing to come from working with Val” You boasted patting Angel’s head lightly. 

“Yeah yeah I’m great I know” Angel cuts in wrapping an arm around your shoulder “But how did a bombshell like you end up with a shitbag ex? I’m dying to know” Angel teases tousling your already messy hair. 

"We met when we were basically kids," you said after a long pause, your eyes never leaving the glass. "Teenagers, you know how it is." you shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "It sort of just went from there."

Angel's gaze sharpened, his smirk widening. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a knowing look. "It’s always the ones you know the longest that turn out the shittiest."

You rolled your eyes, chuckling  dryly "Right? We worked together later on his stupid show," you added a bit  more forcefully, as if the words themselves could push the memories away.

Angel made a low noise, almost a scoff, and took a slow sip from his glass, his fingers tapping lightly against the rim. "Well, you should’ve known better than to mess with someone in show business."

you glanced up at him, your brow arched in amusement. "We're in show business."

"Exactly." Angel’s smirk was quick, knowing, and laced with the kind of dark humor only he could pull off. “go onnnn” he says with a slight shimmy.

You slump back against the bar, your glass swirling in your hand as the ice cubes clink together. The amber liquid inside your glass has begun to lose its chill, but you don't care. You've had enough to drink to not give a damn. You can feel the heat spreading from your chest, and for once, you don’t mind it. It’s been a while since you’ve felt anything other than numb, and tonight—well, tonight is different.

“Well, there really isn’t much else to say,” you mumble, staring into your glass. Your fingers circle the rim absently as you speak. “I’d loved him for years… I don’t know if it was love, but that’s how it felt. I guess you can’t really call it love if it doesn’t go well. You know how it goes. Eventually, people leave…” Your voice falters for a second, and you can feel the weight of the words like a stone in your gut. You take another drink, feeling the burn slide down your throat. “I’ve never been good at that part, so I waited. A lot of good that did.” You laugh bitterly, staring at the glass in your hand like it holds all the answers. “Eventually, I had to find someone else. Worst decision of my life, but I’d make it again every single time.”

You take a deep breath, then lean your head back against the bar. Your head spins slightly, the liquor mixing with your emotions, making it all blur together. You hear Angel shifting in his seat and you feel the heaviness of Husk's eyes on your form. The weight of the silence seems to press in around you.

“On the house,” Husk grumbles from behind the counter, his voice rough as always. “Take whatever else you want. Just don’t touch my whisky. It’s late as fuck, I’m going to bed”

“Bye,” Angel mutters, not even bothering to acknowledge Husk’s sarcasm. He flips his cigarette between his fingers, eyes glinting as he focuses on you instead.

Your attention shifts back to Angel, and you lean in, squinting your eyes like you’re trying to make sense of him. “So, you and the cat demon?” you ask, a teasing edge in your voice. “I think it’s you who might have a type.”

Angel huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Shut up, Y/N.” But there's a softness in his words, like he’s not as defensive as he wants to be. You catch it, and it makes you press him further.

You tilt your head, genuinely curious now. “What’s going on with you two? I didn’t think you cared about anyone like that.”

Angel leans back on the bar, staring at his cigarette like it’s the most interesting thing in the room. He drags in a slow breath before answering, the weight of his words sitting heavily between you. “I don’t know, okay?” He mutters with a shrug. “I just think he’s cute. That’s all. It’s stupid, I know. But when I’m around him... I don’t feel like just an object. Like I’m not just some... disposable thing to be tossed around.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You weren’t expecting that—that vulnerability in Angel, the crack in his usual cocky facade. You lean forward, trying not to let your surprise show too much. “You think that’s stupid?” you press, watching his eyes flicker as he looks away. “I don’t think it is. I think you deserve to be treated like you're more than that"

Angel doesn’t meet your gaze, instead fiddling with the edges of his empty glass. He lets out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know. I’m just... maybe I’m just hopeful. Maybe one day it’ll turn into something real. But who knows, right?” He lets the words trail off, his tone growing quieter, almost uncertain. “It’s dumb, I know.”

Before you can say anything more, Angel stands up and heads to the shelf, grabbing another bottle of whatever's closest to him. But as he moves, his elbow jostles the shelf, knocking something off the counter. You both watch in horror as Husk's prized bottle of whisky tumbles off the edge of the counter and crashes to the floor, the glass shattering into a dozen pieces.

“...He is going to be so pissed,” Angel says, his voice almost panicked as he stares at the mess. He turns to you, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “Do you want to hide out in my room for a bit?”

You don’t hesitate. The last thing you want is to deal with Husk’s wrath, especially not with the way the night is going. “Yes, of course,” you say, grabbing another bottle of liquor as you push yourself off the barstool. You head for the stairs, Angel following closely behind. The idea of getting away from this scene, just for a little while, feels like the right decision.

But as you reach the stairs, you realize something.

“Shit-I forgot my bag,” you murmur, turning back to Angel with a small shrug. “I’ll be right back. Don’t wait up.”

Angel nods distractedly, already heading up to his room, and you hurry back down the stairs. You push through the hallway, your footsteps echoing off the walls as you make your way to where you left your bag. Your mind is still spinning, and the alcohol isn’t helping, but you need to get it—need something familiar to hold onto.

That’s when it happens. You’re rushing, trying to get in and out quickly, and you don’t see the vase on the floor. Your foot catches it, and the next thing you know, the world explodes with a deafening crash.

The sound of breaking glass fills the hallway, and you freeze. “Shit,” you mutter, dropping to your knees as you scramble to pick up the pieces. You glance around, heart racing. The last thing you need right now is someone catching you in the act.

But then, from the shadows, you hear it—a soft, almost deliberate rustling. You tense as Alastor appears from the darkness, his sharp eyes gleaming as he watches you for a long moment.You freeze. Alastor. Of course, it’s him. In your hazy, frustrated state, confusion takes over. Your vision is still blurry, and you’re not sober enough to deal with this. Why is he here? What does he even want from you now?

“Why are you here?” Your voice comes out more hoarse than you intended, but it’s sharp enough to make the air between you crackle.

“I live here, dearest,” Alastor responds smoothly, his usual theatrical charm present, but his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place.

"I heard she sang a good song"

“Since when?” You stare at him, trying to make sense of his words. He wasn’t here before... Was he?

“Never mind that,” Alastor interrupts, a faint flicker of something darker crossing his features as he steps closer, his shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. “Just let me help you.”

You scoot back instinctively, pushing yourself up from the floor, the shards of the vase still scattered around your feet. 

You can't think straight—your emotions are too raw. Without thinking, you say, “I’m leaving.”

But before you can take a step, Alastor’s eyes catch something on your hands. His gaze sharpens. There’s a softness, an unexpected concern, as he moves toward you, his usually composed demeanor slipping for a second. He notices the faint scratches on your hands—small but still enough to catch his attention.Before you can react, he reaches out and softly grabs your arm, pulling you back a little to inspect the damage. The gentle touch is disorienting, but you don’t pull away.

“Please, mon cher,” Alastor says quietly, his voice softer than you’re used to hearing, but it carries the weight of sincerity. “Just let me help you... It’s the least I can do after all I’ve..caused you. Let me help you, and I’ll stay out of your life as long as you wish me to.”

"I heard she had a style"

Your brow furrows, suspicion creeping up again, but you don’t pull away from his grasp. “Is that supposed to be some sort of deal?” you ask, your voice sharp, your words coated in disbelief.

“Not at all,” Alastor responds, his tone almost too calm. “Just an agreement. It doesn’t need to fall into writing. Besides, in your current state, I doubt you could accurately hold a pen.” His lips quirk into a half-smile, the usual teasing glint returning to his eyes.

“Shut up.” The words are out before you can stop them, frustration boiling over.

Alastor’s smile falters slightly, but only for a moment. He releases your arm, though his eyes stay fixed on you.

 “There’s no need to be rude, dear. I am merely trying to help.” The words are gentle, but there’s a coolness underneath, like he’s waiting for you to take the first step.

You don’t want to engage. But still, you can’t help yourself. “And what good would that do? You’ve already told me all I need to hear.” Your voice is brittle now, the cracks in your tone betraying the hurt you’ve been carrying. 

Alastor’s expression shifts, a flicker of frustration crossing his face before he sighs, leaning back slightly. “You said some pretty nasty things too, dear, if I recall.” He huffs, a playful edge to his voice that’s trying to cover up the heaviness between you both.

“Nothing unwarranted,” you reply, a small bitterness lingering in your words.

There’s a brief silence as Alastor steps back, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveys the mess at your feet. He eyes the broken vase with something resembling disdain but then looks back at you. “Let’s call it a truce for now, Y/N,” he says with a smirk, his voice smooth and composed again. “It’s the least you can do after breaking such a valuable decorative asset on my property.”

"And so I came to see her, and listen for a while"

You blink, confused, your eyes narrowing as you glance back up at him. “You own this place?”

Alastor chuckles lightly, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling for a moment. “I think of myself as merely a benefactor. But yes, you could say that.” He looks back at you with a glint in his eyes, his smile returning, this time with a little more sincerity. “A truce for tonight, and we can go back to being at each other’s throats tomorrow morning. What do you say, dear?”

You’re about to protest, but the exhaustion finally catches up to you, and you sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. “Fine. Let’s just clean this up.”

You both move silently to gather the broken pieces, each of you moving in tandem, a strange sort of quiet cooperation filling the space. Every now and then, your hands brush against each other as you both reach for a shard, and though you try to ignore it, it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you.

Alastor catches your eye as you shiver involuntarily, the chill of the lobby creeping under your skin. Without a word, he shrugs off his coat and gently drapes it around your shoulders. The soft fabric is warm against your skin, but it’s more than that—it’s a gesture of care that you didn’t expect.

“That should do it for the mess, dearest,” Alastor murmurs after a moment, his voice quieter now, as though he’s aware of the fragile truce between you. “Now to get you cleaned up.”

"And there she was this young girl

A stranger to my eyes"

You blink, feeling more disoriented than ever, before the world around you shifts. Without a second’s warning, Alastor teleports you both—your surroundings blurring, the air suddenly thick with the scent of damp earth and moss. When you open your eyes again, you’re no longer in the sterile lobby. Instead, you’re standing in a room that seems to stretch beyond its walls into a lush, almost dreamlike forest.

The scene around you is breathtaking—towering trees draped in moss, thick vines curling around branches like old friends. The atmosphere feels alive, warm, as if the land itself is breathing, and the soft whisper of the wind through the leaves is so familiar, it aches. It reminds you of home—Louisiana, the bayou. The air smells of wet earth, pine, and the faintest scent of honeysuckle. It’s not just a room; it feels like a part of you, like the land that cradled your soul in life.

You walk carefully toward one of the trees, reaching out and brushing your fingers against the moss that coats its trunk. The sensation is calming, and you feel a small lump form in your throat. “It’s just like home,” you mutter softly, your fingers tracing the edges of the moss, which decorates the trees like lace trim on an evening dress.

"Strumming my pain with her fingers"

Alastor steps up behind you, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Indeed it is... it helps me feel... real.” There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that catches you off guard, his usual radio demon facade beginning to crack, just for a moment. He steps aside and moves toward the other side of the room, his demeanor shifting back to its usual composed self. “I’ll fetch you some water... and a painkiller.”

"Singing my life with her words"

The silence that follows is deep, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. The only sound is the soft rustle of the bayou outside. You’re not sure how long you stand there, but the stillness makes your thoughts feel sharper, like you can hear your own heartbeat in the quiet.

Finally, you break the silence. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” The words slip out before you can stop them, and the rawness in your voice is so vulnerable, so unguarded. “Why couldn’t you just say that? I understand why someone like you wouldn’t want me... Did you think I was too weak to talk to about it?”

"Killing me softly with her song"

Alastor freezes. His back is turned to you, but you can feel the shift in the air as his posture tightens. He says nothing for a long moment, and then, his voice breaks through, quieter than you’ve ever heard it before. “No one will ever be good enough for me not if they aren’t you.”

The words hang between you like a fragile thread, and you can hear the underlying sadness beneath his calm facade. But you need more. “Then why didn’t you stay?” you ask, the question a raw echo of everything that’s been haunting you.

Alastor’s shoulders tense as he turns slowly to face you, his eyes unreadable, though the weight of his silence speaks volumes. 

"Killing me softly with her song"

The night air is thick with the sounds of crickets, their steady chirping filling the silence between you and Alastor. The aftermath of the broken vase still lingers in the hallway, but it feels insignificant compared to the weight of the moment between you two. It’s one of those rare moments when words hang heavy, the space between them charged with something deeper.

Alastor stands a little apart from you, the soft glow from the distant lights casting long shadows across his figure. The red in his eyes has dimmed slightly, but his presence is still undeniably imposing. The air feels charged with the weight of everything unspoken, and it presses in around you like a thick fog. You can feel it closing in as he finally speaks.

"Telling my whole life with her words"

“I couldn’t, Y/N… I died.”

The words land like a heavy weight, and you freeze, the chill of them settling over your skin like ice. Your chest tightens, the breath you didn’t realize you were holding slipping out in a slow exhale. Your mind spins, and for a moment, it feels like time has stopped.

The crickets continue to chirp in the background, a constant reminder that the world is still moving, even though you’re stuck in this small, suspended moment of time.

“Oh... I... I didn’t know that.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, the confession stirring something raw in you that you weren’t prepared for. The realization that Alastor had died—that the man you once loved had been gone all this time—hits you harder than you care to admit.

“That’s entirely my fault.” Alastor’s voice is softer now, the edges of his usual control slipping. He seems almost… remorseful. “It was a bit of a hunting accident, as you know I’ve been involved with... some unsavory things.” His words trail off, like he’s trying to give you space to process the details. But you don’t need them. You’re already piecing it together—the life he must have led, the dangers of his world. “Quite frankly, I made a mistake. But there was not a second of this afterlife that I did not long just to see you again.”

He steps closer, and the shift in his presence is enough to make you look up, meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes—vulnerable, open, raw. It’s a side of him you haven’t seen in what feels like a lifetime.

“I am a vile and selfish man, Y/N,” Alastor continues, his voice low, tinged with regret. “Being here has only exacerbated that. But you... you make me different. I don’t know how else to describe it.” His shoulders sag slightly as if the weight of his own confession is a burden too heavy to carry alone. “I feel like I have purpose again... just knowing you’re here too.”

The words hang in the air between you both, the soft whisper of the bayou outside suddenly feeling miles away. For the first time in a long while, you feel the urge to speak, to let the thoughts and emotions that have been building in you come spilling out. It’s reckless, and yet, it feels necessary—like the truth you’ve buried under layers of hurt and bitterness is finally clawing its way to the surface.

You lean against the wall, your head spinning with the alcohol coursing through your veins, your tongue loosened by it, and the raw honesty that comes with it.

“I just figured you went and found something better,” you mumble, almost to yourself, though the words hang in the air for him to hear. Your voice is quieter now, quieter than you intended, and a small laugh escapes you—a bitter, hollow sound. “Out of the two of us, you were the one who had potential. I was just your assistant. I figured you went and found better.”

"Killing me softly with her song"

The words leave your mouth like a confession, as if it’s something you’ve held in for far too long. You can’t quite tell if you’re seeking closure or if the alcohol has just made everything too raw to keep inside. Either way, you can feel the vulnerability in your chest, heavy and uncomfortable.

Alastor’s posture stiffens, and for a long, painful moment, neither of you speaks. But you notice the shift in him. His broad shoulders sag just slightly, and for a brief moment, you can see the crack in his polished facade. Had he known that his death, his disappearance, would instill so much doubt in you—would leave you questioning everything between you both—he would have found a way back to you. There’s no other way to put it. If he could have, he would have crawled his way out from the depths of hell to find you.

His eyes soften, and you see the conflict in them. His words—those dark, twisted truths—make him feel like he's trapped in the aftermath of his own actions. The power he gained in this afterlife, his position in Hell—it had all made him feel secure, yes. But that security didn’t mean anything without you. It never had.

None of it mattered in the way it should have. Not if it meant leaving you to carry all that doubt, to wonder if you were never good enough to hold his attention. The weight of it presses in on him like a vice, but he’s too proud to show it completely. He is a demon—he doesn’t show weakness. But in this moment, there’s no mistaking it.

 “You were always and have always been so much more than that.” There’s an intensity in his words, a plea beneath the calm exterior.

You can feel the air between you both shift. The space between you shrinks with every passing second, each of you wrestling with the emotions that have lingered for too long. You want to say more, ask him more—but all you can do is stare at him, at the man who’s been gone from your life for so long. The man who came back from the dead, and yet, somehow, it feels like he’s never truly left.

You swallow hard, unsure if you’re ready to hear more—if you want to hear more. But you know that the truth, no matter how painful, is what you both need to face.

“Y/n.. for god's sake we were almost married, from the moment you tumbled into my life, you’ve flipped everything I thought I knew upside down in such a beautifully tragic way. Your voice even if it holds animosity, is pure music to my ears. It calls such a deep desperation within my heart to the surface. I wish I could capture the essence of your smile in stone, that way it would never fade or change. In your presence I feel alive in a way I never thought possible. I truly do love you, and I truly am so very sorry I said those things to you. It is the most important thing in this world to me that you know that none of it was true..I am so sorry for what you’ve been through. I wish there was something I could do or say to erase it all bu-“

You cut him off capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. For a moment, he leans into your touch. Reveling in the warmth of your form and the subtle caress of your thumb against his cheek. Your lips brush lightly against his his eyes closed tightly. As he begins to consciously process what was truly happening he pulls away pushing you further from him.

Your eyes swirl with tears as they fill with hurt, you could not comprehend why he would say such things and then reject your affections. He places his hand on top of yours, sending you a loving smile. 

“My dear, please do not misunderstand me..I want nothing more than to bask in your affection, but it isn’t right to do so currently. You aren’t within a solid frame of mind..If you still desire to do so once your mind returns I will welcome it wholeheartedly, you are all I want, just not like this.” His hand travels to your face, his thumb pushing the tear from your cheek.

“oh okay,” You whisper out. “I’m sorry” you muttered unable to pull your eyes away from his crimson ones.

“Please, don’t be, you haven’t done a thing wrong.” His apology stretched further than the situation required. Its melancholic timbre expressed decades of regret in a single instant. The words held you in the palm of their hand offering a comfort that you had not felt since his disappearance. 

“I’m going to try and find something different for you to wear alright?” He added before his expression could find the opportunity to fall. Reputation was his only strength and he would not dare disregard it, it was all he had to hold onto with you still at a distance.

“What you don’t like my outfit?” You say slightly rolling your eyes, gesturing to the lace lining the bottom of your skirt.

“No, on the contrary, I think you look lovely, I just assume it wouldn’t be the most comfortable to sleep in” He shrugs “Let’s get you cleaned up” He adds taking your hand and leading you up to a spare room.

With a snap of his fingers, a comfortable set of silky carnelian pajamas appears along with a silver-plated hairbrush and a warm cup of tea. He hands you the cup as he wordlessly runs the brush through your tangled hair. Naturally, it reminded you of the life you used to live together, he had taken the time to learn how to care for your hair and committed it to memory. It was an aspect of your nightly routine you had forgotten how deeply you missed. The porcelain teacup warms your hands as he hums a familiar tune. A few minutes passes and for once silence feels comfortable. Finally, he twists the newly detangled h/c strands of your hair into two neat braids, tying them with matching red ribbons. With another snap, he manifests a cloth and a bowl of water wiping the smudged sparked eyeshadow from your face and the red-stained gloss from your lips.

“I’ll leave these here for you to change into if you’d like dear.” He says setting pajamas into your arms before placing a key in your hand. “I’m just next door if you need anything, this will unlock it. Nothing is too large or small darling.” His smile radiates in authentic charm as he closes your hand around it and his own. “Sweet dreams Y/n” He whispers before closing the door hoping you don’t notice the soft blush painting his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. 

“Goodnight Alastor” You murmur as a smile of your own creeps onto your face. You quickly discard the (quite frankly stained) ensemble you had worn to the club in favor of the pajamas he had given you. The room feels a great deal larger without him here, however, exhaustion overpowers your newfound loneliness. You hold the key in your hands for a moment before placing it down on the bedside table and crawling into the downy sheets that had been calling your name since the moment you had seen them. 

Your body drifts within the realm of the subconscious, losing itself in each kaleidoscopic illusion of memory it pressed upon you. Your ex-husband, the dreams that had plagued you since his death, nothing more than thoughts and feelings to the conscious mind divulged into a twisted wasteland. Each flickering falsity fractured into the dissonant landscape. The shadows of your past contorted into grotesque faceless caricatures sketched with ghostly whispers and regretful choices. The figures fought against the edges of your sanity pushing you deeper within the disquieting chaos. You felt the blood soaking your dress corrode your skin until it shattered into the image of his body against the floor. His green eyes glint with the weight the irreversible act bore. His mouth parted to match the ill-fitting angle his head spun itself in. The halo of deep crimson spread from his center like the delicate spines of a cornet clashing against the fading carpet. 

The moment rewinds, twisting into another distorted tapestry before you can resist. 

“Without me, you’d be nothing. You owe me this”

The man you had regretfully married screamed into your ear, shrill and desperate. His words form tendrils around your wrist, dragging your hand to the kitchen knife clenched into your fist. His gasps polluted the air in whiskey-scented poison as you punctured his skin. His body falls in a cascade with your distorted thoughts, blurring the thin line between paranoia and relief. His eyes, once drenched in an ocean of fury now rest in a gossamer pool of milky white. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it- I didn’t mean to-“ his body made contact with your floor before you could stutter out the end of your sentence. The hypnotic image swirls within a hypoxic cacophony, suffocating you in its remorse-ridden blaze.

Before the flames could truly engulf your form, your eyes shoot open meeting the deeply concerned ones of the radio demon. His ears lay flat against his head, gently wisped in vulnerability. Your trembling arms reach up and cling to his without another thought. He sits down beside you gently guiding you into his lap. 

“It’s alright dear, I promise you are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. It was just a nightmare mon coeur.” He whispers into your hair as he holds you close. You sob helplessly into his arms, your face pressed into his shoulder. You weren’t used to the aspect of comfort after a nightmare, you clung to him as if he would suddenly dissipate if you didn’t hold the pieces together. 

“My dear..please, it was just a nightmare. You’re safe now I promise you” His tone is softly desperate, wanting nothing more than to take this away from you. Somehow, he manages to pull you closer into his arms with a tenderness you had yet to experience within your expansive time in Hell. 

"Would it be helpful to talk it through?" Alastor asks, his voice calm, gentle in a way you rarely hear from him. His eyes flicker with that strange, unsettling depth, as though he’s anticipating something, but he isn’t pushing. He’s merely offering.

You hesitate, unsure if you even want to go there. Your heart is still racing, the lingering echoes of your nightmare digging at the edges of your mind. It’s hard to focus, hard to make sense of everything swirling around in your head. You glance down at your hands, picking at the edges of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze.

"I don’t know…" You swallow hard, trying to calm the sudden tremor in your voice. "I’ve never really talked about them before." The words feel strange in your mouth, like you’re admitting something you’ve buried for years. "I don’t even know why it affects me so much. It just does."

There’s a softness in Alastor’s eyes as he steps closer, but still, he doesn’t try to touch you. It’s as if he’s giving you space, waiting for you to find the words.

"If you wish, I am here to listen." His voice is steady, like the gentle hum of a distant radio, but there’s a sincerity in it. Something rare, something you’ve never expected from him.

For a moment, you just sit in the quiet. The weight of the past is pressing down on you, and you almost feel like you’re suffocating. But there’s something in Alastor’s unspoken presence—something that draws you in. Maybe it’s the way he seems so patient, so understanding despite everything between you. You take a deep breath, your mind still racing.

"Alright..." Your voice comes out softer than you expect, barely a whisper. You wipe your hands on your pants nervously. "It’s nothing really... I don’t know why it affects me so much." You shake your head, frustration making your words come out faster. "It’s just a reminder of why I’m here. Why I ended up like this."

Alastor doesn’t interrupt, just watches you closely, his sharp eyes never leaving your face. His head tilts slightly, like he’s trying to understand something deeper—something you haven’t said yet.

"How do you mean, dearest?" His tone is curious, but it’s not prying. It’s soft, inviting you to share without forcing the issue.

You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze on you like a heavy blanket. Your chest tightens, the memories threatening to rush in all at once, but you push through them. For some reason, talking to him feels... different. Almost like he understands, in a way no one else ever did.

"After you left…" You pause, trying to steady your voice, trying to get through it. "I got married." You don’t know why you say it like that—it sounds so... final. But it was, wasn’t it? A chapter of your life that should have ended long ago, but you never knew how to turn the page. "Things weren’t great." You shrug, a hollow laugh escaping your lips. It feels too absurd to even mention.

Alastor doesn’t react, just stands there, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t need to say anything—he’s not pressing you, not making you feel like you have to hurry. He’s simply giving you the space to speak. And somehow, that’s the hardest part. It’s easier to keep quiet, to bury everything. But now, with him standing there, watching you with an almost disarming patience, you realize it’s time to face it.

"It was purely out of necessity." Your words come out clipped, almost too fast. It’s like you’re rushing through the confession, trying to distance yourself from the pain, but you can’t stop the words from tumbling out. "I didn’t love him. I’m not even sure if I’m capable of such a thing anymore."

The air in the room feels thicker now, charged with the weight of everything you’ve just said. You realize how heavy those words were, how long you’ve carried that silence. 

"That... that doesn’t sound like a life well-lived." His voice is quieter now, more thoughtful, saturated with regret. He speaks as though he’s reflecting on your words rather than speaking from his usual position of authority.

“He was cruel in ways description can’t really do justice to.  We had a child together, my daughter, Elise.. He never laid a hand on her..not usually. I would never allow it, I figure it’s better me than her...I’m the part of the reason why she existed in the first place, Its only fair I take that on.”  The nightmare still lingers like a fog in your mind, and the silence around you feels both suffocating and comforting at once. Your gaze drifts aimlessly across the room, but you can't quite focus—everything feels distant, almost dreamlike. A knot tightens in your chest, but you force a slow breath to steady yourself. You want to look at him, to see if there's any understanding in his eyes, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you trace the edges of your nail with your finger, the small, repetitive motion grounding you, keeping you tethered to the moment.

“I don’t really know what happened, but it sort of changed one day.  She was nine or so.. He had come home drunk as he often did and things turned violent. She was only a child, naturally she couldn’t withstand as much as I could..And.. and He had killed her..and so I returned the favor.” You open your mouth to say something else, but the words get stuck. Instead, a broken, strangled sob escapes your lips—soft, almost imperceptible, but heavy with years of hurt. It's not the kind of cry you can control. It’s hollow, void of all the sharp edges of pain you'd grown used to; just a quiet, numbing release of everything you’ve kept locked inside. Your chest feels tight, your breath shallow, but the tears don’t come in a rush. It’s like your body can’t remember how to mourn properly. All you can do is sit there, head hanging low, shoulders trembling with that quiet, aching sob that feels as if it’s made of pure exhaustion. You want to scream, but you can’t. You can’t even look at him as the silence presses down on you, suffocating

Alastor's sharp gaze softens as he watches you. He’s used to control, used to being the one in command of every situation, but this—this is different. Your fragile, broken sobs cut through his practiced exterior, and the smallest flicker of something unrecognizable crosses his face.

His body is torn between wanting to comfort you and not knowing how to offer it without making everything worse. His voice, when it comes, is low and almost strained, as if he's fighting the instinct to raise it—something he’s done to keep his own emotions at bay.

"Y/N..." The name falls from his lips like a whisper, the sharp edges of his usual tone dulled, softened by something far more human. He reaches out, but hesitates, his fingers just shy of brushing your shoulder. He doesn't touch you, but his presence looms—close, suffocating in its weight. "I didn’t mean for it to be like this." His voice cracks slightly, a faint tremor you wouldn’t normally hear. "I’m… sorry. For what it’s worth."  He’s not used to offering comfort—it feels foreign to him—but the sight of you like this, unraveling in front of him, tugs at something deep inside him. 

“Please don’t be..I’m not. I regret so many things.. but I can’t force myself to truly regret those actions, and yet their memory haunts me.” You whisper as tears well in your eyes once more. The weight of your confession hung heavily above your head, threatening to crush what was left of your fragmented heart. You let out the yawn you had been holding in, revealing your tired state.

“Perhaps it’s best to try and get some rest” He softly laughs out, lifting you from his lap and placing you onto the bed. As he stands, his eyes can’t help but linger within your own. A few moments pass as you each have the first true chance to observe how vastly you both have changed. His hair still held the same wave it used to, flopping delicately around his face. The curled strands framed each expression that wandered onto his face in a deep softness unlike any you had encountered before. His smile, however, was nothing more than a diaphanous veil. His eyes drenched the rest of his face in a somber sodden mask. His eyes drifted to the ground as he turned to walk out the door. 

“Wait” Your voice is small as you grasp onto the cuff of his sleeve. “Please don’t go” His eyes bore into yours, his soul reflecting the love he held for you through the crimson-boarded windows of his eyes. His smile was soft and genuine, like those he used to give you so often in your time on earth. He ponders this proposition for a moment before he lets out a small breathy laugh.

“Of course mon coeur.. I  promise I will stay as long as you wish me to” He took your hand in his squeezing it lightly. 

“However, you may not remember this whole ordeal in the morning as well as you do now. Considering our previous argument, I think it’s best I maintain a small bit of distance to not worry your sobered self in the morning.” He whispers placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. He sat himself within the slightly tattered scarlet chair that was placed next to the bed. 

“M’kay” you murmured out sleepily. The exhaustion of the night had finally begun to enrapture your form as you tucked yourself under the covers. Before you could protest, your eyes began to droop into a more peaceful slumber. 

Alastor kept his promise, he remained perched in the armchair beside your bed throughout the night. His hand found itself placed against your back. He began to trace the lines of your history together into your skin, as his thoughts started to shift to the past. 

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

1929: The bookstore next to Rosie’s shop.

(shush they’re alive at the same time on the grounds of I SAID SO also Rosie's Dialogue is pink in this segment!)

Alastor’s legs carried him to the bookstore faster than he could commit to telling them no. The shop was their secret meeting space, it offered the close comfort of a good book and the privacy Rosie’s store could never offer. Rosie was a slender woman who despite her youthful age and progressive spirit, was a ghost of his past. They had grown up together, she had watched the disillusioned spirit of his youth rot in tandem with her own. With each passing year, their golden facades had been tarnished, corroded by the cruel hands of experience. Their connection flickered with the dimming light of nostalgia and the glow of understanding.

 If he was conflicted, there was no reality in which he wouldn’t rush to her opinions and overwhelming honesty, and boy was he conflicted. The object of this confusion was none other than you. Something about your presence seemed to reverse the rot in his heart. It made him softer in ways he didn’t truly understand. He would cancel every meeting and appointment within his schedule if it meant he could spend another few moments with you. On some level, this was normal. He had always held a drastic level of care for you, but through the years it had begun to shift to something more. 

He twirled a small golden ring in his fingers each movement dancing within the fabric of his coat pocket. It was almost as if the ring had begun to solder itself to his skin, constantly conducting the electricity of the desire and love that coursed through his veins. He would tell himself the only reason he had bothered to purchase such a thing was a drunken mistake. He had drunk a bit too much on one of your dates years ago, and had purchased it on a whim…that was all, or at least that’s all it could be. It was unrealistic to think something along those lines would work out between you two. Yet, he still kept the damned thing in his pocket, maybe you would mention marriage in passing, and maybe that would be enough to lift the ring from his hand and place it onto your own. 

He knew thoughts like that were silly and unprecedented. Marriage could never be the result of his feelings, it would make them too real. He couldn’t seem to get rid of them, no matter how deeply he knew it would benefit you. If he did marry you, there was no reality in which you would not discover the horrors of his secret life. He had always been selfish on some level, but in this situation, it would never feel right. He could never hurt you.

 His conflict had driven him to Rosie’s doorstep and promptly next door to the bookstore. If anyone would know how to deal with this, it would be her. She knew you both evenly, naturally her perspective would hold some merit. He had brought you to one of his weekly lunches with Rosie a few years prior after you mentioned an interest in meeting his other friends. The two of you were practically attached at the hip from the moment he introduced you. If anyone would know how he should proceed, it would be Rosie. She was far more trustworthy than most gave her credit for, he wouldn’t have to worry that she would tell you his thoughts like he would if he had spoken with Mimsy or one of your friends.

The bookshop was quaint, filled with antique furnishings and the scent of aging paper and well-weathered leather. Dust dances lazily in the golden beams of the sunlit window behind him. Alastor sat restlessly in the reading nook anxiously fiddling with his hands as Rosie browsed the books in the store’s eclectic collection. She kept a subtle distance as she knew he would have an easier time with honesty if he did not have to meet it face to face. He kept his eyes trained on the floor as he rattled on about his dilemma.

“She’s my Terpsichore Rosie…She could command me to drown myself with her song and it wouldn’t have mattered because I would have already done it anyway…Everything about her just entrances me. That’s dangerous…I’m dangerous. I can’t involve her with something that could bring her harm..especially if I would be its catalyst… I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself from her. Perhaps I need to remove myself from her company for the safety of-“ 

She cut him off turning abruptly, as she placed the book in her hands back on the shelf.

“Alastor- Darling you should do anything but. You can’t be so caught up in the past that you miss your future”. She sat next to him on the aging loveseat. Her eyes did not meet his, instead, they remained focused on the world behind them through the window.

“Rosie I don’t think you fully understand my “tendencies” He murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He nervously twisted the ring in his pocket, a silent reminder of the question that begged to burn into reality. 

“I know all about the little stunts you pull darling. I just think you’re giving them too much power over you” She replied gently, shrugging her shoulders. “Y/n is a wonderful girl, she is the kindest and most understanding person I’ve ever met this side of the city. Don’t let the right person slip away because you are determined to make it the wrong time. If you don’t want to hurt her, then don’t hurt her. It’s that simple. Even if you are “dangerous” then make the choice not to be for her, she is worth it.” She said firmly, her words embalmed with conviction. She gingerly placed her hand onto his shoulder in silent support of his uncertainty. 

“I hadn’t thought about it that way” He mumbled, mulling over her words. As he thought on this, the tension in his body began to dissipate. He took a deep breath, finally able to release the weight he had packed so heavily onto his shoulders. 

“Of course, you hadn’t-“ She giggled, getting back up to fetch her book. She flipped through its pages as she spoke.“What better place to protect her from so-called “dangerous things” than from by her side? You might consider yourself to be dangerous, but there are people in this city that could do far worse to her.” Her words were nonchalant but their meaning resonated within his mind with great urgency. 

“I need to see her” Alastor declared. The surge of desperation in his voice was almost palpable. His heart pounded harsher than it ever had before at the intensity. He flew from his seat and rushed towards the door. 

Before he could leave, Rosie called his name dragging his attention back to his current location. “Oh one more thing, Alastor?” Rosie spoke plainly with a hint of malice tucked in her tonality. 

“Hm?” He hummed, confused as to what she could possibly want at a moment like this. 

“I swear to god if you harm a hair on that sweet girl’s head you’ll end up worse off than your victims” She smiled fiercely, and he returned it. He hurriedly closed the door behind him with a soft thud, the bell on top of it reverberating within the space. He had no intention of letting any harm come your way, especially not of his own volition. Tonight would be the night he finally allowed himself to fully care for you without his own self-determined repercussions. 

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

You let out a soft hum in your sleep snuggling deeper within the sheets. He glanced back at your sleeping form, your softened breaths filling his ears as his heart tinged once more in his eternal regret. He brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, and for the first time in decades, his plastered-on smile truly felt real. In that moment he had allowed his soul to fully tie itself to your own.  Even if you would never accept his apologies, he was going to love you until his body betrayed its physical form and faded to dust, and if it were possible he would love you long after. He would revert hell to nothing more than ashes and rebuild it in your image even if you could not bear the sweetened saccharine of his words or the touch of his hand…He would suffer through any despicable action just as long as it granted you a fraction of happiness.

It didn’t matter if forgiveness was within the cards, even if it meant bargaining his soul, he would help you get your own back. 

so y e a h that happened! uh that was lowkey kinda garbo but yk what im back upon my bullshit so y u h its fine (the sad part on a personal level is that 95% percent of this was already done i just had to add like 5-10 action lines and a couple of descriptions here and there-)

[leeknot]

Ꭺ Ꮒꫀᥲɾt Ꮒꫀᥣd Ꮯᥲρtเ᥎ꫀ

A/N: Yay, I finally finished this oneshot, and I'm so happy to share it with you all! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It’s always such a fun journey to bring these stories to life, and I’m grateful for your support! Thank you for taking the time to read, and I can’t wait to hear what you think! Don’t forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed it – it means so much to me! ♡

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Pairing : psychology professor Jay × student reader

Warnings : makeout sesh , jay is obsessed(like he literally kidnaps her and all that) , reader tries to kill herself

Summary : In this dark and intense psychology-themed story, you, the reader, are a student who becomes entangled with Professor Jay. After a passionate makeout session, you hesitate to take things further, causing Jay to spiral into an obsessive obsession with you. His fixation grows unhealthy, leading him to kidnap you, unable to accept your boundaries. Trapped and desperate, you eventually reach a breaking point and attempt to end your life as a way to escape his suffocating control.

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Professor Jay stood at the front of the classroom, his back to the students as he wrote on the whiteboard. He was a renowned psychology professor, known for his strict but fair teaching methods. The students respected him, and he had a way of making even the most difficult subjects seem interesting.

"I expect your papers on Freud's theories by next week," he announced, turning to face the class. His eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on each student. Suddenly, his gaze paused on you, sitting there in the fifth row, nervously chewing on your pencil.

Jay's gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before he continued. "Office hours are Tuesday and Thursday, for those who need extra guidance."

As the class dispersed, you found yourself lingering by your desk, fiddling with your textbook. You couldn't shake the feeling that Professor Jay had been looking at you strangely. Just as you were about to leave, you heard his voice behind you.

"Stay," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. You turned to see him standing in the doorway, his suit jacket hanging open. He closed the door behind him, locking it with a loud click. He approached you, his steps measured and deliberate.

"I've noticed your work in class," he said, stopping just inches away. His cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something deeper, surrounded you. "You have a unique perspective. I think you could benefit from some... personal tutoring."

Your heart raced as you found yourself trapped between Professor Jay's imposing figure and the desk, his proximity making it difficult to breathe normally. "Personal tutoring?" you managed to squeak out, glancing between his intense eyes and the locked door.

Jay chuckled lowly, amusement glinting in his eyes as he observed your nervousness. "Don't worry, I'm not suggesting anything inappropriate," he lied smoothly, leaning in just a fraction closer. The tip of his nose nearly brushed your temple as he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.

Unable to help yourself, you shivered slightly at Jay's closeness, the heat radiating off his body palpable in the intimate space between you. Your eyes flitted to his lips as he spoke, hanging onto his every word even as your mind raced with unbidden thoughts of exactly what kind of "personal tutoring".

He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Though, if you're up for a little... extra credit," he murmured, his voice velvet and dark promise,

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "Extra credit?" you echoed, trying to sound nonchalant despite the pounding of your heart. Jay's gaze held yours, his eyes gleaming with a secret understanding.

"Mmm, yes. Like... helping me with some... late-night research." One hand brushed against your lower back, barely a touch, but enough to send a jolt through your entire body. "The university library gets quite... lonely after hours. Wouldn't you agree?"

Your breath caught as Jay's fingertips lingered on your back, his touch electric even through your clothing. The suggestive undertones of his words hung heavy in the air between you, dripping with unspoken possibilities. You licked your dry lips nervously, unable to tear your gaze away from his hypnotic eyes.

"You're right, we probably shouldn't," Jay whispered, his face inching closer to yours, his breath mingling with yours. "It would be crossing a line... As professor and student..." His hand slid lower, resting on your waist possessively.

Despite your better judgment screaming warnings, you found yourself leaning into Jay's touch, your resolve weakening with each passing second. "We really shouldn't, but..." you breathed, your voice trembling slightly as you gazed into his penetrating eyes, "maybe'shouldn't' is exactly what makes it so tempting."

Jay's smile grew, his lips curling up in a sinful grin as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Damn right it is," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

Your heart raced wildly as Jay's lips feathered against yours, the tantalizing promise of forbidden fruit. Closing your eyes, you surrendered to temptation, your own lips parting to deepen the kiss.

His hand slid up to tangle in your hair while the other pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together. The kiss grew more passionate, more demanding, as if he'd been waiting all semester to taste you like this. You could feel his desire pressing against you, making your head spin and your knees weak.

Pulling back slightly, Jay gazed at you with smoldering eyes, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere more... private," he suggested, his voice low and gravelly with barely restrained lust.

"Your place or mine?" he whispered, trailing kisses down your neck, "I have a bottle of wine chilling..." His hand traced the curve of your breast through your blouse, making you gasp softly. "Or we could skip the wine and move straight to dessert..."

"Jay," you panted, placing a hand on his chest to create some distance between you two. "As much as I want to, we can't. It's not just a line we're crossing, it's a mile of them. I'm your student, and you're my professor."

Jay's grin faltered slightly, but he didn't let go of you. "I know, I know," he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. "But damn, you're so tempting. I swear, every time you open that mouth of yours, I want to kiss you silly."

"We can't," you repeated firmly, stepping back out of his grasp. "It's unethical and I could get in serious trouble. You could lose your job, Jay. We can't risk it." Your expression turned pained.

Jay's eyes darkened with frustration and desire as he watched you step back, his hands falling limp to his sides. He nodded slowly, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "You're right, of course," he conceded, though his gaze still raked over your body hungrily.

Jay unlocked the door with a heavy sigh, the click echoing through the room. He watched as you turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind you. He leaned his forehead against the door, cursing under his breath. "Damn it."

The days after you left Jay’s office were suffocating. He tried to go about his lectures as usual, but his thoughts were consumed by your tear-streaked face as you stormed out. The chair you used to sit in during his lectures now felt glaringly empty, a black hole that sucked all his focus away. It wasn’t just guilt gnawing at him—it was something darker, more possessive.

He should have let you go. You made it clear you wanted space, but the way you avoided him in class, the cold silence you maintained, made his chest ache. He told himself it wasn’t fair; you didn’t get to walk into his life, ignite something within him, and then leave like he was disposable.

Jay started keeping tabs on you. He justified it as concern, but deep down, he knew it was more than that.

He began small. Scanning your social media profiles for hints of what you were doing, where you were going, and who you were spending time with. Every photo you posted, every comment you left—it all became clues in the puzzle of you. He memorized your schedule, ensuring he’d be "coincidentally" walking past your usual spots on campus.

One evening, as he sat alone in his dimly lit apartment, Jay found himself staring at a notebook. It wasn’t his. It was yours. You’d left it behind during one of your study sessions, and he’d kept it. At first, he reasoned it was accidental, but now it felt like a lifeline. He flipped through the pages, running his fingers over your handwriting.

Your words felt intimate, like they were written just for him.

"I don’t know what I feel for him... but it’s overwhelming," you’d scribbled in the margins of one of your psychology notes. Jay’s breath hitched. Did you mean him? His mind raced, trying to connect the dots. He wanted to believe you did.

His obsession grew insidious. He started tailoring his lectures to you, throwing in subtle references to things he knew would catch your attention. He wanted you to notice him again. But when that wasn’t enough, Jay began orchestrating ways to corner you.

One particular afternoon, as you left the library, you felt a shadow following you. Turning around, you saw Jay standing there, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat, looking almost vulnerable.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” he said softly, his voice carrying an edge of desperation.

“I told you we needed distance,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach churn. “You think I can just forget what happened between us? You think I can erase you from my mind that easily?”

His words made your heart race, but not in the way they used to. “Professor, this isn’t healthy. You’re crossing boundaries—”

Jay cut you off, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Boundaries? You broke those the moment you walked into my life. You don’t get to leave me like this.”

The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t love—it was obsession.

You took a cautious step back, but Jay matched it with a step forward. His presence felt suffocating, and the usual calm demeanor he wore was cracking at the edges.

“Professor Park,” you began, voice shaking, “I don’t want to escalate this. Please, let me go.”

His lips twisted into something between a smile and a grimace. “Let you go?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You don’t understand, do you? I can’t let you go.”

Jay’s fingers twitched at his sides as if restraining himself from reaching out to you. “You think I don’t notice the way you avoid me? The way you flinch when you see me in the hallway? But it’s fine,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s all temporary. You’ll come back to me.”

Your blood ran cold at the conviction in his voice. “No, I won’t,” you said firmly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Whatever this is—it’s not right. I won’t be part of it anymore.”

The resolve in your tone seemed to snap something in him. His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists. “Not right?” he repeated, almost bitterly. “You’re the one who came to me, who looked at me like I was the only one who understood you. You don’t get to rewrite the story now just because you’re scared of what we have.”

“This isn’t a story, Jay. It’s a mistake.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hit him like a slap. For a moment, he froze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “A mistake,” he repeated softly, like he was testing the word on his tongue.

You took that moment to turn and walk away, your heart pounding in your chest. But his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“You can try to run,” he called out, his tone eerily calm, “but I’ll always find you. You’re mine, and you’ll realize it sooner or later.”

The days that followed were nerve-wracking. Everywhere you went, it felt like Jay was there, watching you. At first, you thought it was paranoia, but the evidence was undeniable. A glance across the cafeteria revealed him sitting at a table, his eyes boring into yours. A walk to the library ended with him standing outside, pretending to be engrossed in his phone.

Then came the messages.

At first, they were innocuous:

"I hope you’re doing well."

"I miss our conversations."

But they quickly turned more unsettling:

"Do you ever think about me the way I think about you?"

"You can’t hide from me forever."

You blocked his number, but the emails started next. Every time you opened your inbox, there was a new message waiting, each one more desperate than the last.

One evening, as you sat in your room, your phone buzzed with an unknown number. Against your better judgment, you picked up, your voice trembling as you said, “Hello?”

Silence.

Then, his voice, low and filled with something unnameable: “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Jay, leave me alone!” you snapped, your voice breaking.

But he didn’t. “I can’t,” he whispered, and you could hear the faint tremor in his voice. “Don’t you see, I’m doing this for us? For you? No one will ever care about you the way I do.”

Your hands shook as you ended the call, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You knew you couldn’t handle this alone anymore. It was time to take action before his obsession spiraled even further out of control.

Jay’s obsession grew like a wildfire, consuming every rational thought and leaving only his unrelenting fixation on you.

He started following you—not blatantly, but enough to know your routines. When you went to the library, he’d sit a few tables away, pretending to read. When you walked across campus, he stayed just far enough behind to avoid suspicion. He memorized your habits: the café you frequented, the times you went to class, even the route you took home.

It wasn’t enough. Watching wasn’t enough.

Jay’s apartment became a shrine.

Every little piece of you that he could collect found its place. The notebook you’d left behind sat on his desk, surrounded by printed screenshots of your social media posts. He had photos of you—some from your profile, others he’d secretly taken during lectures or when you weren’t looking.

He’d pinned your class notes to his wall, scribbling his own thoughts in the margins:

"She’s brilliant."

"She needs me."

"No one will ever love her the way I do."

Every night, he sat at his desk, poring over these relics of you. Sometimes, he’d whisper your name, imagining how you’d respond if you were there with him. Other times, he’d write long letters he never sent, pouring out his feelings in a chaotic jumble of devotion and desperation.

His lectures suffered.

Students began noticing his erratic behavior. He’d lose his train of thought mid-sentence, staring blankly at the room before mumbling something incoherent. Sometimes, he’d bring up topics that seemed strangely personal, talking about love, betrayal, and the pain of longing.

It was obvious his mind was elsewhere—on you.

Then he started pushing boundaries.

He found your dorm room number and left a small, carefully wrapped gift outside your door: a book on psychology, one he knew you’d once mentioned wanting to read. Inside was a handwritten note:

"For you. Always thinking of you."

The next day, when you didn’t acknowledge it, he sent an email.

"Did you like the book? I thought of you the moment I saw it."

When you didn’t respond, he grew more restless. He needed to see you, to talk to you, to make you understand how much he cared.

Late one night, Jay sat in his dark apartment, staring at your social media profile.

You’d posted a photo—just a simple picture of your coffee cup and an open book. But to Jay, it was a message. She’s thinking about me, he convinced himself. This is her way of reaching out.

He couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his phone and called you.

The sound of your voice, even just saying “Hello?” in confusion, sent a shiver down his spine.

“It’s me,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

You hesitated. “Professor Park? Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I needed to hear your voice,” he admitted, his words spilling out like a confession. “You don’t understand how much you mean to me. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. You’re everywhere, in everything I do.”

“Jay, this is inappropriate—”

“No!” he interrupted, his tone turning frantic. “This isn’t just about the classroom, or some silly rules. This is real. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You… you’re my everything.”

His words made your skin crawl. “This needs to stop,” you said firmly, your voice shaking. “Don’t contact me again.”

You hung up before he could reply, leaving him in stunned silence.

But Jay didn’t stop.

He convinced himself you were scared, unsure of your feelings. He had to prove to you that you were meant to be together. The line between love and obsession blurred completely, and all he could think about was finding a way to keep you close—forever.

Jay’s obsession spiraled further, consuming every waking moment and seeping into his dreams. Every thought, every action, every breath revolved around you.

It started with more invasive actions.

He began lingering near your dorm, finding excuses to be close. He’d sit on a bench nearby, pretending to scroll through his phone, but his eyes never left your window. He started timing his arrival so he could see the faint glow of your lamp flickering on at night, convincing himself that it was a sign you were thinking of him.

When he noticed you’d started locking your social media profiles, he grew frustrated. It was a barrier, a wall between you two that he couldn’t stand. He created a new account, posing as a fellow student, and sent you a request. When you accepted, oblivious to who it really was, Jay felt triumphant.

Now, he could monitor your posts again. Every status update, every photo, every interaction with friends became something for him to analyze. If a male friend commented, Jay’s mind raced with jealousy. He imagined scenarios of them taking you away from him, and it made his blood boil.

His apartment transformed further into a delusional haven.

Jay started recreating your life in his space. He bought candles that smelled like the ones you’d mentioned liking. He found a secondhand copy of a book you were reading and left sticky notes in the margins, writing messages as though he was speaking directly to you. “This part reminds me of us,” he’d write, smiling to himself.

He even stole a scarf you’d left in class once and kept it on his pillow, breathing in its faint scent every night before he fell asleep.

But even these tokens weren’t enough. He needed something more tangible, something to make him feel closer to you.

One night, Jay followed you home.

He stayed far enough back that you didn’t notice, his hood pulled low over his face. When you entered your building, he waited outside, staring up at the windows until he saw your shadow move behind the curtains.

The next day, he returned to your building, slipping past the front door as another resident exited. He found your mailbox and slipped a handwritten note inside.

"Y/N,

You’re so beautiful, even when you don’t see me watching. I know you’re scared, but we’re meant to be together. Please, let me show you how much I care."

When you found it, your heart sank. You didn’t know how he’d managed to find your address, but the realization that he was watching you this closely sent shivers down your spine.

Jay’s paranoia grew alongside his obsession.

He became convinced that someone was standing in the way of your connection. A friend? A family member? He started researching everyone you interacted with, keeping notes on them like he was building a case. If they were too close to you, he considered them a threat.

One afternoon, he saw you laughing with a male classmate outside the library. His chest tightened painfully as jealousy and rage twisted in his gut. That night, he couldn’t sleep, replaying the moment over and over in his head.

“Doesn’t she see? I’m the only one who truly understands her.” he muttered to himself, pacing his apartment.

Then came the breaking point.

Jay began leaving more gifts outside your door—flowers, notes, small trinkets he thought you’d love. When you started throwing them away without acknowledging him, he grew desperate.

Late one night, he returned to your dorm building. This time, he wasn’t content to leave something outside. His hand shook as he pressed the buzzer for your apartment.

When your tired voice answered through the intercom, he felt a sick thrill run through him.

“Y/N, it’s me,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Please, I just want to talk.”

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“I had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’ve been ignoring me, and I can’t take it anymore. I need to explain, to make you understand how much I love you.”

“You need to leave, Jay,” you said firmly, but he heard the fear in your voice. It only fueled his delusion.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered. “You’re just scared. I’ll wait for you to calm down.”

He didn’t leave. Hours passed as he sat outside, waiting, his mind spiraling further into darkness.

Jay’s obsession reached its breaking point, leaving him unable to distinguish between right and wrong. In his mind, the only way to truly protect you, to make you see how much he loved you, was to take you away from everything he believed was corrupting you.

The night of the kidnapping was carefully planned.

Jay had spent days watching you, learning your routines. He knew exactly when you’d be alone, when the streets around your dorm were quiet. That night, he waited in the shadows near the library, his heart pounding as he clutched a bag containing duct tape, a scarf, and a small bottle of chloroform.

When you finally appeared, headphones on and a book tucked under your arm, you didn’t notice him until it was too late.

“Y/N,” he said softly, stepping out of the shadows.

Startled, you turned to see him standing there, his eyes wild and glinting in the dim light. “Jay? What are you—”

Before you could finish, he lunged, one hand pressing a cloth soaked in chloroform against your mouth. Your struggles were frantic but brief as the world blurred and faded into darkness.

When you woke, everything was different.

Your head throbbed as you blinked against the harsh light of a single lamp. The room was unfamiliar, small, and sterile, with bare walls and a faint scent of candles. You were tied to a chair, your wrists bound tightly behind your back. Panic surged through you as you struggled against the restraints.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Jay’s voice came from behind you, soft yet unnervingly calm. He stepped into view, crouching in front of you with a look of tender concern.

“Jay, let me go.” you demanded, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t do that, Y/N. Don’t you see? This is the only way. I had to get you away from all the people poisoning your mind, keeping us apart.”

“Keeping us apart?” you repeated, your voice rising. “This is insane! You’ve kidnapped me!”

Jay flinched but quickly composed himself, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You turned away, disgusted.

“You’ll understand in time,” he said gently. “I’ve created a space just for us. No distractions, no outside influences. Here, we can finally be together, just as we’re meant to be.”

The room was a horrifying reflection of his obsession.

The walls were covered with pictures of you—some from your social media, others clearly taken without your knowledge. Your favorite books and trinkets were arranged on shelves, and there was even a playlist of your favorite songs playing softly in the background.

Tears filled your eyes as the weight of the situation sank in. “This isn’t love, Jay. This is sick. You need help.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together in frustration. “I don’t need help. I need you. You’re the only thing that makes sense in my life, Y/N. Why can’t you see that?”

“I’ll never love you.” you said, your voice firm despite the fear in your chest.

His face twisted in pain, but the determination in his eyes only grew stronger. “You say that now, but I’ll show you. I’ll prove that no one will ever love you the way I do.”

Jay’s obsession escalated in captivity.

Days passed, and Jay became more unhinged. He brought you food, books, and clothes, acting as though you were a guest rather than a prisoner. He spoke to you constantly, weaving a delusional narrative of how you’d grow to love him.

When you refused to eat or speak, he became desperate, pacing the room and muttering to himself. “Why won’t she understand? Why is she still fighting this?”

But his moods were unpredictable. Sometimes, he’d snap, his voice rising as he accused you of trying to leave him. Other times, he’d collapse into tears, begging you to forgive him, promising he’d never hurt you.

Days turned into a nightmare as Jay’s grip on reality deteriorated further.

Jay’s attempts to normalize the situation only deepened the horror.

He would sit across from you during meals, talking as if you were a willing participant. “I know it’s not perfect yet,” he’d say, his voice soft, “but I’m working on it. Soon, you’ll see how much better life can be without all those distractions.”

You refused to eat, glaring at him in silence. It didn’t deter him; he only grew more determined. “I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he said one evening, his eyes dark with resolve. “I know you’re scared, but that’s okay. I’ll help you see the truth.”

One night, you tried to escape.

While Jay slept on the couch in the next room, you quietly worked at the ropes binding your wrists, using the sharp edge of a hidden nail on the chair. Your heart raced as the fibers began to fray. After what felt like hours, you finally freed one hand and untied the rest of your restraints.

You crept toward the door, careful not to make a sound. But just as you reached for the handle, the floor creaked under your weight.

“Y/N?” Jay’s voice called out, laced with panic.

You bolted, flinging the door open and sprinting down the dimly lit hallway. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you reached the staircase, but before you could descend, Jay caught up to you.

“Don’t!” he yelled, grabbing your arm and yanking you back. His grip was ironclad, his eyes wide with desperation. “You can’t leave me! You’ll be hurt out there without me!”

“Let me go!” you screamed, struggling against him, but his strength overpowered yours.

He pulled you back into the room, locking the door behind him. Tears streamed down his face as he paced in front of you, his hands trembling.

“Why would you do that?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve done everything for you. I’ve kept you safe, given you everything you could want, and you still want to leave?”

The facade of control crumbled.

Jay’s behavior became more erratic after your escape attempt. He talked to himself more often, his words a mix of anger, fear, and self-reassurance. “She doesn’t understand now, but she will,” he muttered, pacing back and forth. “She has to.”

He started keeping you tied to the chair, even while he was in the room. “I can’t risk losing you,” he said, almost apologetically. “You’re too important to me.”

His delusions deepened. He began to believe that your resistance was part of a test, a way for you to prove your devotion to him. “This is how love works,” he told you one evening, his eyes alight with a manic fervor. “We have to fight for it, no matter how hard it gets.”

The breaking point loomed.

Jay’s obsession consumed him entirely, and you knew his behavior was becoming increasingly dangerous. He spoke of drastic measures, of leaving the city together and starting fresh somewhere no one could find you.

“I’ve been looking into cabins in the mountains,” he said one evening, a wistful smile on his face. “We could be so happy there, away from everyone and everything.”

Your heart sank. You realized this was your last chance to act. If you didn’t escape soon, there was no telling how far Jay would go to keep you by his side.

The cabin was eerily quiet, surrounded by dense trees that blocked out the world beyond.

Jay had driven for hours, the sound of tires crunching over gravel the only noise as you sat in stunned silence in the passenger seat. The ropes around your wrists had been replaced with zip ties, cutting into your skin every time you shifted.

When the car finally stopped, you glanced out the window to see a small, weathered cabin, nestled in the woods. Jay stepped out, opening your door with a soft smile that sent shivers down your spine.

“We’re here.” he said gently, as if this were some romantic getaway instead of an act of pure madness.

Inside the cabin, Jay was unsettlingly calm.

He had prepared everything in advance. The single room was furnished with a bed, a small table, and a stove, all surrounded by items that screamed his obsession. Photos of you decorated the walls, your favorite books were stacked neatly on the table, and a blanket you’d once left behind in class was draped over the couch.

“Do you like it?” he asked, his eyes wide with anticipation. “I made this for us. A place where we can finally be together without anyone interfering.”

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Jay, you can’t keep me here. This isn’t love. This is wrong.”

His expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly replaced it with a soft smile. “I know it feels strange now, but in time, you’ll understand. You’ve been surrounded by people who don’t value you the way I do. They don’t see how special you are. But I do.”

The conversation grew more intense as the hours passed.

Jay sat across from you at the table, his elbows resting on the surface as he leaned closer. His voice was calm, but the desperation in his eyes betrayed him.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve sacrificed for you,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “I’ve given up everything—my career, my reputation—because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You didn’t have to sacrifice anything,” you replied, your voice trembling with frustration. “I never asked for this, Jay. I never wanted this.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked down at the table, his hands gripping the edge tightly. “You say that now because you’ve been conditioned to think this is wrong. But deep down, I know you care about me. I’ve seen the way you look at me, the way you listen to me in class. There’s something between us, Y/N. I know there is.”

You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “What you’re feeling isn’t love, Jay. It’s obsession. And it’s destroying both of us.”

Jay’s mask began to crack.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room with frantic energy. “Why can’t you see it? I’ve done everything for you! I’ve shown you how much I care, how much I’m willing to give. What more do you want from me?”

“I want my freedom,” you said firmly, your voice cutting through his rant. “I want to go home. I want my life back.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face you with a look of pure anguish. “You are my home, Y/N. You’re my life. Without you, I have nothing.”

The conversation turned into a battle of wills.

As the hours stretched on, you tried to reason with him, to make him see the damage he was causing. But every word you spoke seemed to push him further into his delusion.

“You’re just scared,” he said, his voice softening as he knelt in front of you. “You’ve been hurt before, haven’t you? That’s why you’re resisting. But I’ll never hurt you, Y/N. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you from everything.”

“This is hurting me,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Can’t you see that?”

For a moment, he hesitated. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by that same unrelenting determination.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he said, his voice barely audible. “You’ll see that this was all for us.”

The cabin felt suffocating, each breath heavy with the tension of your captivity. Jay’s presence was constant, his eyes always lingering on you, waiting for you to acknowledge the twisted reality he had built for the two of you. The room, with its eerie calm and suffocating silence, made your heart race.

You sat at the small table, your hands folded tightly in your lap, eyes cast downward as Jay sat across from you, rambling on about how perfect everything would be once you adjusted to the life he’d planned. His words felt like nails on a chalkboard, a constant drone that filled the space but never reached your heart.

The weight of it all—his obsession, his twisted love—felt unbearable.

Your voice was quiet, but it broke through the haze of Jay's words.

“Jay… can I go to the bathroom?”

He blinked, momentarily taken aback by the simple request. For a second, there was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, but it faded quickly. He’d been so sure of his control, so convinced that you would eventually accept him, that he didn’t hesitate.

“Of course,” he said softly. “It’s right down the hall. Don’t try to run.”

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral. Inside, you felt a surge of desperation. You hadn’t planned this moment, but you couldn’t bear another second in this suffocating cabin, this prison.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, and the moment of solitude was all you needed.

You turned to face the small, dimly lit room, your pulse pounding in your ears. The mirror above the sink reflected a face you barely recognized—your eyes were hollow, the weariness of captivity etched into your features. But it wasn’t the face that mattered now.

It was the sharp edge of the old razor blade that you spotted on the edge of the counter, something Jay had clearly overlooked.

Your hands trembled as you picked it up, the cold metal against your fingertips grounding you for a moment. You looked at the reflection of your own eyes, barely able to hold back the tears. This wasn’t the life you had wanted. This wasn’t freedom. Jay’s obsession had suffocated you, and the only escape seemed to be this.

As you held the blade to your skin, a cold calm washed over you.

You thought about the world beyond these walls—friends, family, the life you’d had. You thought about the pain Jay had caused, how his love had twisted into something dark and suffocating. You thought about the fear, the helplessness, and the deep, gnawing sorrow that had taken root inside you.

This was your way out.

With a deep breath, you pressed the razor to your wrist, the sharp sting of it a fleeting relief. But as the blood began to trickle down your arm, something inside you began to shift. The numbness you’d felt began to crack, replaced by a sharp, painful clarity.

The sound of footsteps outside the door sent your heart into a panic.

You couldn’t let him find you like this. You couldn’t let him ruin this last moment of control. Your hand shook as you pressed the cloth from the sink against your wrist, trying to stanch the bleeding.

But the door suddenly opened with a creak.

“Y/N?” Jay’s voice called, his tone too calm, too controlled. He had been watching you through the crack in the door, waiting. When he saw the blood, his eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in something darker, possessive.

“No!” He shouted, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You don’t get to do this, Y/N. You don’t get to do this, Y/N. You don't get to leave me!"

For a moment, it was a battle for control.

Jay's fingers dug into your skin as he pulled you away from the sink, his breath ragged and wild. "I told you, I won't let you go. I won't lose you!" His voice cracked, a mix of fury and desperation.

"You don't understand," you whispered through the tears, your breath coming in shallow gasps. "This isn't love, Jay. It never was.”

Jay's face contorted in anguish, as though your words cut deeper than anything else. "I can't lose you," he repeated, his voice trembling with the force of his need. "I need you. Please."

His hands shook as he reached for the wound on your wrist, trying to stop the blood with his own shirt. The sight of you in pain seemed to break him, but it wasn't a break for the better. It was a spiral deeper into his obsession.

Jay's grip tightened on your wrist as he lifted you off the floor.

"I won't let you die," he said, his voice low and broken. "You're mine. I'm the only one who can protect you. You'll see. You'll see how much I love you."

His words were incoherent as he lifted you back into the main room of the cabin, his gaze unfocused, consumed by his need. He didn't care about your pain-he cared about controlling you, about keeping you locked away where no one could take you from him.

The moment of escape had slipped through your fingers.

The thought that had given you some semblance of hope, of release, vanished in an instant as Jay's delusions wrapped tighter around you.

"You'll be safe with me, Y/N," he whispered, his voice eerily calm again, as he forced you back into the chair. "I won't let you go. I'll never let you go."

────୨ৎ────

[hell-drabbles]

Mammon 3

Summary: You had a midnight craving and get up for snacks. While you're munching in the dark, Mammon walks right in. With underwear this time. Huh. He actually listened to you.

(Yay Embittered Companion and Mammon interactions! It's really fun to have people talking while they're drinking, for some reason. There's a certain level of intimacy that I like from this.)

Sleep easily evades you when you're sleeping on a bed that just wasn't your own. The mattress in this guest room just didn't have that dip that wrapped around your form, and the blankets were of textures you just weren't used to.

All this discomfort kept you away, and because you were kept awake, you got hungry.

So, here you are, grabbing a bag of snacks from a fancy cabinet made of gold, and relaxing under a single light in this huge and echoing kitchen.

It's nice. The air was cold enough and the floor was perfectly heated. While it was dark beyond that singular light, enough of the moon's light shined through the windows to keep you from feeling isolated and alone.

You were just going to munch, clean up, and then enjoy this time by your lonesome.

But, this is Hell, and rarely do you get anything you want, especially when you're around the ever-wanted Ra-on.

Mammon walked through the door, his gold eyes and golden horn failing to blend in the darkness. Though, that's about all you can see.

"Oh." A simple utterance from his lips, like he didn't expect you to be here.

"Hmm." You sighed through your nose then looked away. And here you thought you could have a rare moment to yourself.

Yes, yes, this is his place. He has every right to roam as he pleases, but… You've seen him walk around naked on more than one occasion, so you never look forward to encountering him at night.

You were content to ignore him, to just let him walk to the fridge for whatever he wants, but instead, he stepped into the limelight. He leaned against table you're at, blatantly staring at your face with a mischievous smile on his.

He didn't say anything. Just stared, and waited while you ignored him.

Eventually, you sighed again and looked over.

"What do you–" then, something white caught your attention, "Oh. You're wearing underwear. Huh."

His smile grew wider and he stood back to his full height. "Well, why wouldn't I be wearing them? Didn't you tell me to do so?"

Ah, that you did, in a haze of disgust and annoyance.

"I did," you opened a bottle and poured your drink into a clean glass, "I didn't think you'd listen. Isn't Ra-on the master to give you orders?"

Mammon walked away but continued talking. "You still think of me like that? As someone that ignores the voices of his possess–" He stopped just as he placed a glass of his own on the table. He cleared his throat. "As someone that picks and chooses who to listen and who to ignore?"

Lackluster recovery there, Mammon. But, you're not in the mood to nitpick.

"Does that come with the king territory?" you raised an eyebrow, but poured the bottle in your hand into his glass, "But, you have been listening to me, so I guess no. I don't really think of you that way. Would've left the room as soon as you came in."

"Oh?" Mammon picked up the glass and swirled the drink around, "You wouldn't have picked up the nearest vase and throw it at my near my face as a warning? And here I thought my every action made you angry to no end. Shame. In a way, I almost miss it."

You took a long sip and tipped your head back to enjoy the flavor. "I'm not a constant ball of anger, Mammon. I know when to pick and choose my outbursts. Besides, you don't actually make me all that angry, at least not all the time."

Honestly, compared to the others, Mammon's the one you get angry at the least. Well, among the kings anyway. You never got angry at Ppyong. Not even once.

"Though, ever since that day, on our first meeting, you haven't shown that fierce and loud anger towards me," Mammon put down his drink and leaned against the counter, "So, I have to ask, what did I do to tip you off to that extent?"

You crunched into chip and nearly bit your cheek. You breathed in, then out.

"…whenever anyone wants something out of a specific person, the first thing they do is tell them how special they are," had it been Leviathan or Satan asking you these questions, you would've ignored them and go back to your room, "how so much better they are to the rest of the people they've ever met. Not to actually get to know the person, but to get to that specific end result faster, because any other method would lead to that person saying no to you. It reeks of everything I hate in a person, that blatant disrespect."

"But, if all parties are willing, then does it really matter? Seems to me that you were quite petty, on that day." His smile was still wide, still swimming of the afterglow of sex and the cool embrace of the night with a chilled beer at hand.

Your glass clinked loudly on the table.

"You don't respect the previous encounters you've had," fine, fine, you'll quite beating around the bush, "'Oh, all the other humans are boring but you, you're the special one, and doesn't that make you feel good? That I don't care for other humans unless they interest me in a way that's convenient for me?' That's what you sounded like to me. And that pissed me off, because I've had to deal with other shitheads like you on a daily basis, because Ra-on was was unconscious and sick and you decided that this would be the perfect situation to make a move! Why wouldn't I be pissed?!"

Ah, just remembering that day makes you want to grind your teeth. You remember waking up and seeing this devil attempting to crawl into the same bed as Ra-on. Took you everything you had to grab at his robes and yank him away from his bed. He sat on a chair instead, and you thought that was that, but then he started saying those words, emphasizing the special aspects of Ra-on while calling the other humans, the lower humans boring for reacting in a perfectly human manner.

You can't stand anything or anyone who takes "special" to mean "better than everyone." To have value depend on the existence of lower statuses.

Mammon's eyes were wide, taken aback at your rush of words.

You relaxed your jaw and practically deflated into a chair. It's too late for this.

"So, yeah," you took another sip just to refresh your voice, "I just didn't like the way you spoke, speaking like Ra-on was above human beings, while insulting other human for being themselves."

"I see. You love humans as much as I love all that belongs to me." He laughed as though he discovered something amusing.

"Yeah? No shit. I come from them, Mammon," Yeah, you get disgusted by the absolute abyss that is human greed and apathy, but kindness is the backbone of it all. Kindness is as stubborn as the horrors that threaten to consume it. And, as such, you refuse to lose faith in your own kind. You refuse to let anyone put down humans just so they can elevate one person above all others.

"I suppose I too would be insulted if you loved only one thing of my vast wealth while calling everything else boring."

Mammon finally pulled out a chair and sat down. Noisily, he scooted until he was next to you, though you had enough space to stretch out your arms. He downed his drink in one go and and tapped his glass against the bottle. He winked at you when you poured.

"Well, as long as you listen." You sighed. "Pretty glad that you do listen, actually."

Otherwise, you wouldn't let Mammon near Ra-on in the first place, nor would you let Ra-on entertain the thought of seeking this king out. He's… tolerable to an extent.

"Though I might do it again," Mammon looked away for a moment with a sly smile before looking back to you, "will you be there to correct me if I slip up?"

"No," your voice was flat but you couldn't help the smile, "you're a grown devil. You can learn by yourself."

"Then I guess I'll have to chase you for that lesson," Mammon raised his drink.

"Good luck with that, bastard."

You both clinked your glasses together and drank.

[illneverrecover]

TW: Just a heads up, this will be about death and grief. If that's not something you can handle right now, then please skip over this and keep yourself safe 💜

I'm not sure why I'm writing this.

It's not why anyone is here, not why anyone follows me or this page. It's not even the reason I created this godforsaken tumblr to begin with (that honor goes to Dylan O'Brien and Teen Wolf). But I felt like I needed to say something, and I didn't know where else to say it.

One of my good friends that I've known since high school passed away two weeks ago. Not from any sort of underlying health issue, or a sudden, unfortunate accident. But because she was struggling so hard with postpartum depression, and decided that it would be less painful if she went to sleep and didn't wake up.

We didn't know she was struggling, I didn't know she was struggling. She had reached out to me only two weeks prior, telling me that she missed me and we lived too close to each other to never see each other, and proposed a Twilight movie marathon (which I had gladly accepted). She was going to message me dates, we made plans for lunch, and she ended it by saying "yay!! can't wait!".

And then, before I realized, it was too late to say anything else.

Being a mother is hard. Being a mother to two young kids, both under two, while trying to build your career, be successful, and be a good wife is even harder.

But it gets easier. I promise it does.

I have a lot of regrets and a lot of guilt. I have a lot of things I wish I could say to her one more time -- and then I feel guilty for thinking that my words could ever be that important, that they would even matter on that kind of scale.

I know that depression lies. It is a liar. It's nefarious; its call, soft, sleepy and welcoming, comforting almost. It feels easy to lay in its embrace, to let yourself be swallowed by the darkness, let the echo chamber of your worst thoughts sing you a haunting lullaby until it feels like nothing matters. Until you rather just not exist.

But that lullaby is a poison, filled with deception and misdirection. It's intentionally vague, dragging out its notes so that it seemingly doesn't ever end. What it doesn't include is how beautiful the background music can be, when you finally are able to stop and breathe enough to hear it. How relaxing it can be to sing along to the melody, when you are clear-headed and no longer sleep deprived to learn the lyrics. How much fun it is to let go and dance along to the music, when you're able to recharge and take time for yourself.

Those things all come with time. I promise they do. It does get easier. Not always right away, not always all at once, but soon you'll find each breath you take is a little deeper, each step you take a little bit lighter.

If you're reading this, and you have found yourself struggling with similar dark thoughts - please, please, reach out to someone. A trusted friend, a teacher, a neighbor, your physician, a counselor. SOMEONE. Please ask for help, and please utilize the resources available. There is no shame for asking for help, especially in today's climate of fuckery -- it's hard out there for everyone.

But please, please stay. I want you to stay. I promise you there are people out there who also want you to stay, but even if you don't believe that, believe that I don't want to be in a world where you don't exist.

One of the last messages my friend sent to me during our final conversation was about how she was going to send me dates ASAP, because "we're gonna commit to this because that's what I'm doing this year! Committing to happy things!"

I think about those words a lot. I think about what she was feeling in those moments when messaging me, and what she was feeling only two weeks later, when she felt so painfully alone. If I think about it too much, it consumes me and shatters my heart.

So instead, I try to remember that message - it wasn't the last thing she texted me, but it does feel like her final message all the same. To commit to happy things this year. To try and do things that unabashedly bring me joy, because I deserve to.

My wish for you all is to commit to more happy things, this year and every year. To dare to feel joy, to seek out things solely because you want to, and not because of any perceived outcome. And to tell your loved ones how important they are to you, and how much you love them. It's all over far too soon, and the points don't matter, anyway. 💜

[hazzybat]

Omg you're doing kiss prompts?? Yay!! Can I ask for a combo of 8 and 16? Like they're kissing lazily in secret. I probably don't even need to say what ship but Bo(Jan) pretty please ❤️

In secret and lazily. This was fun! I always associate lazy kisses with morning kisses so that where this came from. Also I like camping and it's winter here so I was thinking about the cold.

Hope you like it 💚

Jan's nose was cold. His beanie had thankfully stayed on during the night, keeping his dark hair off his face for once. He could hear movement outside, branches snapping and crackling as the fire from last night was restarted along with the quiet murmurs of his friends as they began to organise breakfast.

He snuggled further down into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes tight, hoping that if he was lucky he could go back to sleep.

His nose was still sticking out though. It was still cold.

He felt a pair of lips press against it, a small reprieve from the cold inside the tent and he hummed happily at the contact.

"Morning Janči." a husky, sleep filled voice said next to him.

Jan cracked his eyes open to see warm brown filling his vision. He moved his head forward so their mouths slotted together in a closed mouth kiss. He felt Bojan's warm exhale against his cheek and when they pulled back Jan couldn't bring himself to move his face further away, instead they stayed with their noses rubbing against one another gently.

"S'time?" Jan asked.

"Morning I think," Bojan responded, moving his head to steal another lazy kiss from Jan.

The group had decided to go camping together for a few days, driving out to a camp-site to enjoy the autumn colours and take a break from the world for a bit. They only had two small tents, Jan and Bojan in one and Kris, Nace and Jure in the other. 

At night Jan would sit next to Bojan on the large log next to the fire, a blanket wrapped around them both and try his best to not kiss him when the others could see. When they all went on a hike together Bojan insisted on showing Jan every wildflower he saw until they were far enough behind the group he felt safe to plant a kiss to Jan's mouth. Jan felt like a schoolboy with a crush, holding hands, stealing glances and hoping no one would notice the budding affection between them.

The mornings were the best so far. When it was just them, safe in the tent and they could kiss as much as they wanted before anyone expected them to get up.

Jan dared to brave the cold and bring one hand out of his sleeping bag to hold Bojan's cheek, bringing him closer and kissing him again, lazy and easy and perfect.

"I love you," Bojan whispered.

"I love you too," Jan responded with more kisses, still sleepy and soft.

"You two better stop making out if you want any breakfast," they heard Jure call out as he shook their tent, laughter echoing around the camp-site as the smell of bacon and coffee drifted in.

Okay, maybe they weren't as secret as they thought.

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Jason Todd x fem!!reader

Where the reader is going to the Wayne gala to like do a mission with one of the big guys who owns a company. So she is trying her best to get information out of him but it gets a little bit hard. So the man wants to kiss her and forcing her to just have some alone time. Jason comes to save her.

No Damsels Here.

Warnings: Swearing, Some violence, pharmacitucles is pronounced like heracles.

"So, is like... you said something about pharmacitucles? Is that just.. what does that mean?" You ask coyly, gently toying with the thin strap on your dress.

"Pharmaceuticals." Mr North corrects you, his eyes watching the delicate movement of your fingers. "We manufacture drugs," he shakes his head, "Medicine, for sick people." He says in the most condescending voice you've heard since Tim had to explain to Bruce how to delete his tweets.

"Ooo, anything fun?" You perk up, trying to sound every bit the ditsy heiress. You've found that men like Mr North, are so much more eager to tell you things when they can talk down to you about it.

"I could show you." He leans his disgustingly close to your face, "in my office."

"Is it up stairs?" You throw your hands behind your back, simultaneously pushing your tits out and signalling to Jason that your moving. You make what you assume a bashful laugh sounds like and peer over at Jason who's finishing up his drink.

"Top floor. You'll love the view of the city from there."

"Is it like fight club?"

"Oh, you've seen fight club?" Mr North asks, sliding his slimey hand around you and leading you towards the lift.

"It was great." You lie, "Brad Pitt is so handsome." You nearly puke at the thought.

"Truly a masterpiece on how masculinity has been suffocated in our generation." His fingers dig in even closer as you watch in the reflection of the glass as Jason makes his way slowly toward you.

Mr North dribbles on about how fight club is a masterpiece barely allowing you to get a word in edgewise. But when he finally stops talking you manage to squeeze in "so are these fun drugs?" You smile, "I had some of those while I was at Berkely."

"They can be very fun." He almost smiles, taking the few steps from the elevator and opening an office door, "I think you'll like them."

"Yay." You nearly die as the word leaves your lips and you watch Mr North fumble with the lock of his safe. "What ya got in there?" You try to feign interest in a statue on the opposite wall, while not so obviously trying get a peak in side

"Only these." He shakes the pill bottle, throwing it on his desk before coming up behind you. "You're very pretty you know." His arm tightens around your waist, "Such a shame," his fingers press into your cheeks, while his filthy tongue licks at your neck, "Open up."

"Let me go." You shout, piercing his shoe with your heel and making him falter.

"I didn't take you for a fighter." He sneers, wrapping his hand around your throat to tilt you head back.

"I'll fucking kill you," your breath almost as heavy as Jason's words echoing in your head.

"You don't need a gun. It's a simple mission. In and out." In and out, like fuck. You're going to kill him right after you kill this asshole.

"Bit wider," Mr North orders you, pressing your cheeks even harder.

"I can fucking see you." You glare at the looming reflection in the mirror, "the fuck are you doing?"

"I don't need help." Jason struts forward, twirling his gun on his finger, "I can do this on my own," he shoots Mr North in the leg making him fall to his knee and release you, "I'm a big girl."

"I would never," you kick Mr North in his shitty face, "call myself a big girl."

"Who the fuck are you?" Mr North spits a tooth out.

"You're not involved in this," Jason snaps at him, shooting him in his other leg, "be quiet. Wait- what happened to your neck?" He stares at the finger prints you imagine are there.

"The fuck does it matter? Where have you been?"

"Mingling." Jason rolls his eyes at your dissmissiveness.

"What-" Mr North winces when you press your heel into his bullet wound.

"Shut up now." You spit on the man before turning to Jason, "Give me my gun."

"Bossy," Jason's says, throwing your stainless steel Colt, "you going to shoot me?" He asks when you point the gun at him.

"Not today." You swerve, letting your gun off into Mr North's head, "those are the drugs there. Let's get em to babs."

"Are you sure you're ok?" He stops you, his fingers grazing along your cheekbones and brushing your hair back.

"Yes. But if you take my gun from me again," you stare up right into his eyes, "it'll be the last thing you ever see."

"No, the last thing I'd see would be you're beautiful face," his nose brushes yours, "and boy, what a way to go."

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

And finally the established Buddie in the workplace stories! One where they’ve already learned to contain themselves and one where well….. not such much

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (anytime you need more TWATYTK emojis you just let me know and I’ll send them all! I absolutely adored last chapter with its beautiful father-son moments! Very excited to see what’s next plot wise!)

💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪 (oh eddie. In a torture chamber of his own making. Why am I not surprised? I am absolutely thrilled with it though and can’t wait to read the whole thing!)

Hope you have fun writing these Cal! As always I’m very grateful for every word you share!

- PCA <3

AHH love it.

75 for ⚡️ (I will ALWAYS take more of these. It's def my least requested one, which I understand. But I need to finish the damn thing)

---

 “But, yeah… This is an option.”

Buck nods. “Yeah… Probably, the right option, then?” 

“You do not have to decide over breakfast,” Bobby says reasonably. 

But they do have to decide eventually. So Eddie brings it up after their shift. 

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks on their drive home. “Use a surrogate?”

In the driver’s seat, Buck exhales loudly.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he admits. “I just want a kid, really. A baby, I think. I’d like a baby.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Me too.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with adopting an older kid!” Buck adds quickly. Like Hen and Karen, who had recently adopted a young girl named Mara.

“No,” Eddie agrees. ‘There isn’t.”

“Just,” Buck says. “I guess… I want the experience from the start, if possible.”

Right. Because he didn’t meet Christopher until he was seven. That’s completely fair. 

“Honestly?” Eddie says. “Me too.”

Buck frowns a little. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

Eddie’s not looking for any sort of pity or reassurance. It’s just the truth. He wasn’t there for so much of the beginning of Christopher’s life. Having a second kid won’t change that. It won’t make up for that. It won’t change the way Eddie feels about that. But once he’d overcome the feeling that he didn’t deserve another kid because of that, he’d been able to think a lot more about how he’d like to change, this time around. And, actually? For the most part? He likes what kind of parent he’s been. This time, he’d just like to be able to say that from day one.

“So maybe we look into it,” Eddie says. 

“We look into it?” Buck echoes.

“Surrogacy,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah?” Buck grins. “Okay.”

“It does seem like maybe that’s the direction that seems most…” Eddie trails off. He doesn’t know how to explain. 

“Fated?” Buck smirks. “Were you going to say fated?”

“Nope,” Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“Liar,” Buck accuses. 

“Okay, well this is sort of insane timing,” Eddie concedes. 

Buck chuckles. “Sure is.”

“So, I’m guessing you’ll do a bunch of research?” Eddie asks. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

🗲🗲🗲

Buck does do his research. A lot of it. It turns out, while the process is extensive and potentially tiring and expensive, it’s straightforward enough. Legally, their rights and protections are pretty good as intended parents. As long as they do everything by the book, they’ll get a legally recognized child by the end of it. 

Which. Wow. The thought has Buck giddy and determined to figure this out. 

---

48 for 💪 (Yay thank you!!!!):

---

“Am I?” Buck takes another step forward.

“We’re at work,” Eddie reminds him.

“Off the clock,” Buck reminds him. “Alone.” 

“Still at work,” Eddie reasons. 

“I guess I should just get back to working out then,” Buck says. “Maybe you can spot for me?”

Eddie wants to strangle him. 

“You’d like that,” he grumbles. 

“I would,” Buck agrees. “Or, you know. You could go back to whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Exercising?” Eddie retorts. 

“Oh, come on,” Buck smirks. “You only do this when you’re frustrated.”

“I am frustrated,” Eddie says. “You are currently frustrating me.”

Buck smirks. “I’ll bet.”

“You’re so cocky,” Eddie complains.

Buck shrugs. “Mhm.”

Eddie honestly has no idea what Buck is doing, antagonizing him. Ruffling his feathers. It’s not great pre-date strategy. Except, well… Okay. It’s not terrible. Eddie still wants him. Badly. He’s just also very annoyed with him.

“What are we doing right now?” Eddie asks. 

“You tell me,” Buck shrugs. “I think I know why you came here.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Eddie argues. 

“But you didn’t do something else, once you found out,” Buck replies. 

“That feels like poor logic,” Eddie argues. 

“What do you want, Eddie?” Buck asks. 

Eddie swallows. “I want you to put your damn arms away and stop taunting me.”

“Taunting?” Buck smiles, amused. “My arms are taunting you?”

“Yes!” Eddie snaps.

[theecholegend]

*backflips off the wall into your inbox

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AND I GOT ECHOES OF WISDOM!!!!!

*breathes for the first time in several minutes

Okay I'm good now!

What are your thoughts on Legend's personality? I like how he's prickly and sarcastic, but I know there's a softie in there somewhere. I think he's just too afraid to admit it because he's worried that it'll be considered a weakness.

I also like how awkward he is around Time, like, "Uhhh, I kinda know you're alive and all, but you died and doomed my timeline sooooo..."

What about you? Would you add anything to how he is now as far as LU, or maybe change some things?

YAY! HAPPY (late 😓) BIRTHDAY!!!

I honestly love Legend the way he is. I find his snarky side to be so much fun whether it's genuinely because he's just that sarcastic or, how I like to sometimes see it, him finding subtle ways to help the others out. Like to ease tension in the group during a serious conversation or to help people out individually.

He definitely has a soft side that I believe he does sort of show, but not directly. Kind of like the things I already mentioned. Or maybe he'll sneak potions to people or get them little things to make them happy.

I don't think he tries not to be soft or caring, It's more of a... be caring but in a way that nobody would notice or think of as being kind

And with Time he does seem a little awkward. Not sure if he's figured out Time was the hero before him or not but they definitely don't interact all that much and when they have Legend does look a little uncomfortable. in a sense

[kirans-wonderland]

Playful Land Thoughts 

(this is my version of liveblogging they are all silly and stupid dont take them seriously)

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

Book 1 

Chapter 1: 

-YAY RSA MENTION

-yay basketball team mention 

-sorry Floyds adhd kicked in the middle of the game (that one tiktok)

-floyd keeps his wallet in his stomach (he regurgitates it like Rico from penguins of madagascar)

-the way he sprinted to be with his twin immediately 

-Jack.. sweetie. It’s okay to admit you were shopping with the homie 

-It’s not like they’re kissing in the dressing room or anything… unless? 

-*tucks Jade/Jack shopping date art idea away*

-Jack is an introvert through and through 

-Fellow’s hair looks wack in just silhouette 

Chapter 2: 

-Kalim and Ortho together is an overwhelming level of smiley energy in the same place

-Ace’s rare pair is Jade and Jack confirmed 

-Jamil is legitimately having a heart attack rn

-Trien kept grim after class yesterday because he knew I would be there teehee

-I wish he’d give ME that look Ace. Or any look for that matter 

-Floyd hittin them with the punk punk tactics 

-“But it’s October” IT’S META UP IN HERE 

-I need an Ortho to manage my homework calendar 

-“I have plenty of fun just getting to see my friends every day” Kalim is too good for this world

Chapter 3: 

-Kalim wandering away while asking a question is so real 

-Also Ortho saying his full name even while panicked is adorable 

-Their outfits are SUCH bangers. 

Their eyeshadow is so crisp. They must use the tape method

-Gidel having cool toned eyeshadow is interesting to me for no reason

-Fellow’s eyebrows are legitimately my everything 

-“Those stylish uniforms” is showing grim and ortho who are the only ones technically not wearing clothes 

-THE CANE SPIN THE CANE SPINNING 

-“It’s the only thing I’ve got going for me” Babe… 

-heh bosom buddy 

-I LOVE GIDELLLLLLL

-Jack is utterly horrified at Kalim’s disrespect

-Fellow Honest is Megara confirmed 

-Honest Ernesto? More like Glazer Ernesto

-Jade is compliment starved 

-“The ace of spades no less” Fellow ships Adeuce?!

-I really thought his gift was going to be giving them their magical girl makeovers 

Chapter 4: 

-Oh please. Like I would ever NOT listen to Deuce 

-Ortho reads all the “online buzz”

-Imagine how great the world would be if no one knew where Disneyland was 

-he’s already calling himself our good friend..

-“well over 20 years” what if he’s like 40 *star eyes emoji* 

-HOW FAST HE SWITCHED FROM SMILING TO DEADPAN IM CRYING

“I’m babygorl. How do you do?” I never regret my name choice 

Chapter 5: 

-yes ace love the skepticism, using BOTH braincells I see 

-“something nefarious at foot” okay shakespeare 

-Gidel’s surprised face!! I need him in my purse like a chihuahua 

-if playful land already has this legendary magical reputation, why does Fellow need the boys to ‘put in a good word’ for it? Hmm.. 

-“School?” Mans is uneducated he just won’t admit it. We should kidnap him.

-Imagine the boys ended up bringing the whole school upon Fellow’s offer. What would he do then?

-I think they all said “ABSOLUTELY NOT” at the same time to the point it was echoing through the campus

-Leona I see you on the banner. Don’t go saying no when you don’t mean it 

Chapter 6:

-Jamil has had the ‘don’t take candy from someone in a white van’ with Kalim before 

-“angling to abduct you” is just funny 

-“gormless nincompoop” Ace cracked out the thesaurus Riddle gave him for that one

-good boy deuce (although you would’ve looked so good in a nutcracker fit) 

-I can hear the ‘yare yare’ 

Chapter 7:

-jacks arms look so smooth.. sorry-

-“Not so loud!” Boy I think everyone knows you cut class 

-They way Leona and Jack are so concious of Ruggie

-If Ruggie and Fellow met it would be over for everyone

-Jack just wants to be a boy Leona. Let him have fun.. 

-they way Leona sighed in all caps

-Jack is the REAL honest fellow. Watch out Ernesto 

-Azul talkin business jargon.. not listening.. he pretty (/j)

-Floyd and Jade never outright made decisions. They both ask for the others opinion, neither answers yet something always happens 

Chapter 8:

-“BUH?!” Bro my friends and I saw this religiously at school

-Idia is the personification of my disney sea overstimulated breakdown

-I love that Ortho went to Vil for advice 

-I live for the cross dorm interactions khsksskhggwrl.

-Ortho and Idia got the Trolls perfect family harmony

-“You silly boy” -Vil 2024

-Ortho just casually scanning a mans entire being and soul during a conversation- 

Chapter 9:

-Grim’s little determined face- I’m squeezing him

-Uhm.. hate to say I AM very likely to fall in the water 

-“WHOA! Lilia, Cater and Vil!” The best girlband 

-I’m loving Ortho and Vil’s dynamic in this event… 

-*puts on analyzation glasses* 

Chapter 10:

-Ah yes, this is simply a pop music club field trip. That’s the legal cover.

-shhh vil let Kalim be delulu

-Lilia equates this trip as dangling a baby by the ankle (/j)

-Trey appearing on the scene nervously rubbing his neck like ‘uwu h-hi’

-Leona is sleepwalking. Trey kidnapped him. 

-Trey brought leona because they sleep together

-Deuce protects his boyfriend- homie 

-The old marrieds are bickering again (Vil and Leona) 

Chapter 11:

-Did he just booty bump Lilia out of the way??

-I just know Fellow’s little tail was wagging when he complimented Leona 

-Vil really stole “I’m surrounded by idiots” from Leona 

-“little lordling” ….okay

-“Kalim’s not like the rest of us” He made his own tax bracket really 

Chapter 12:

-Mommy and Daddy are so responsible (Vil and Leona again)

-GINO'S FACE THE EYBROWS 

-Gino would love Roblox 

Chapter 13: 

-When is it magical girl transformation time 

-YAYYYY GLOWY TRANSOFRMATION

-I still think Ace looks like he’s going to fight a bull. Love it though

-I live for the twins getting different colors 

-Bros complimenting bros 

-As much as I love the outfits, I REALLY would not want to go around an amusement park dressed like that

Chapter 14:

-‘believe in yourself babygirl (Fellow)’ -Lillia 2024

-Please let me kidnap Gino. We can wreak non-magic havoc together 

-NUTCRACKER AHH CATER 

-Im sorry but Lilia is so gender. You don’t understand how much I need it 

-OH HES SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE A NUTCRACKER I’m not crazy (I didn’t know it was canon)

-The shape of Lilia’s neckline is everything. Is the bodice corseted or is Lilia just like that?? 

-Lilia’s eye-makeup reminds me of a Junko Enoshima cosplayer…

-Trey looks like he works at the Dickens fair 

-LEONAS BRAIDSSSSS SQUEEEEEEEEE also his choker love

-Mommmmm- Leona and Trey are flirting again (/j) 

-cutting away from Leona and Trey’s compliment-fest to Vil being like ‘what gives husband?’ 

-IM FERAL FOR STEAMPUNK JACK 

-I need to start practicing Vil’s demand for a mirror in my real life 

-“It’s a gorgeous look that’s still very you” That’s so sweet. I would kill for Jack and Vil’s friendship 

-I need their outfits in my guest room NOW 

Chapter 15:

-KALIMMMMMMMMMMMMMM *screaming fan girl* THATS MY SONNNN

-I love the bright yellow it looks so good on him 

-“in the days of yore” -Lilia 2024. Okay grandpa 

-Take notes guys. Playful land even accommodates Ortho. No ableism even in clothing 

-The way Fellow’s ear turns to the side kffhjafhlFBlf

-The flattery already has gone to your head Ace 

Chapter 16:

-GRIMS PINOCCIO FIT AHHHHHHH 

-I wanna see our outfit… but I don’t want to design one myself… 

-okay good at least I can rest easy knowing we have a crop jacket

-The amount of scrunch in Fellow’s face is unreal 

-THE EVIL LAUGH AND THE CANE SPIN 

-IM ON THE GROUND AGAIN

[exouniverse]

The Ultimate Party Planner/Partner

Pairing: chanyeol x gn reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, shared birthday.

Warnings: none (but if you find anything, please let me know)

Summary: As you two share your birthday, Chanyeol and you make a playful bet—who can throw the best party for the other? With the help of the EXO crew, the competition is on. But as your care for one another makes your relationship reach new heights, you prove some bonds are stronger than any challenge.

Word count: 8,8K+

A/N: Ah it feels a tiny bit overwhelming to have posted this fic too late, but as I was saying… my life is a little chaotic right now with so many events and projects coming. I also couldn’t shorten the story so I had to keep writing until it felt right, and here it is now. But I’m so happy with the result, so yay! I had so much fun writing it. Happy (late) birthday Chanyeol!

Divider credit to @k1ssyoursister

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

Chanyeol was easily lost in thought whenever you laughed. Your smile and laugh only brighten his days, lifting his spirits like a sunny morning after days of unstoppable rain. He had tried to deduce why so many times now, but it was hard to define. All he knew was that he wanted to witness it and be the cause of it as much as possible.

A voice called his name, sadly breaking his daydreaming about you. The voice came from Baekhyun; he had that signature smirk that usually meant he would drag him into some sort of mischief. “Earth to Yeol, come in, Yeol!” Baekhyun chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of Chanyeol’s face. “You back? Back me up, please, huh?”

“No, don’t!” Your voice pulled him in, and he smiled back at you.

“What’s going on? Should I back you up?” he asked you, making Baekhyun groan.

“You’re lost, Chanyeol-ah! If you back Y/N up, you’ll lose.”

You laughed again, and he was almost hypnotized, but Baekhyun looped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s true!” he exclaimed at you. “Don’t be cheeky, Y/N! He planned the best party of the year, right, Chanyeol-ah? I know that ‘cause it was mine.”

Chanyeol blinked in confusion; your laughter was still ringing in his ears, the melodic sound echoing in his mind. “Best party this year?” He wondered what the two of you could be talking about.

“I’m just saying, Jongdae’s party was so good that people still talk about it. I get calls from your friends asking for the DJ’s number and where to get the cake I bought for the party, and the venue has had a boost in bookings.”

Baekhyun almost accepted his defeat as Chanyeol became lost in you; he rolled his eyes dramatically and groaned loudly beside him. “Please, Yeol, I know you’re hopeless when it comes to Y/N, but try to keep up.” He smacked Chanyeol’s back, making him huff in pain.

“As I was saying,” Baekhyun continued, shooting you a playful glare. “I was telling Y/N here that you are the best party planner I know, but then this cheeky one here is claiming the title.”

“I can do better; I have done better, as stated earlier,” you kept teasing.

Chanyeol’s brow furrowed as the pieces slowly came together. Baekhyun was right in advocating for him, but you were only challenging the both of them. His competitive spark ignited as the cheeky grin on your lovely lips heightened his devious mind.

“Is that so?” He addressed you directly now, his eyes full of amusement, matching your cheekiness. He shifted in his seat, already plotting the best bet for you. “Jongdae’s party was legendary; I give you that. You helped enhance it a lot, but if you think you can outdo me, you’ll have to prove it,” he taunted with a mischievous wink.

You offered a daring smile; this bet was on. You would never back down from a challenge, and it intrigued you to know what he was plotting in his mind.

“Whose birthday is next?” Chanyeol asked Baekhyun, still holding your gaze.

Baekhyun attempted to check his calendar, but he quickly deduced the answer. “Yours, both of you,” he revealed. Baekhyun was enjoying it too much; at least his friends weren’t too cheesy about their budding relationship, and he could have fun with them.

“Oh, what a coincidence!” Chanyeol exclaimed, tilting his head to the side.

A knowing smile spread across your lips as comprehension dawned. "Double coincidence," you agreed, breaking eye contact shyly. Chanyeol found the action unbearably cute and almost faltered along with you.

Before you could give everything away, you looked at Baekhyun. "You might end up calling me to plan your party next year after all," you teased, confidence undimmed.

Baekhyun laughed heartily at your bold statement. "This is going to be good,” he said as he started drumming his fingers on the table. "May the best party planner—and partner—win!"

Just then, the doorbell rang, making you all jump in surprise. All of you almost forgot you were expecting Jongdae to arrive. Baekhyun jumped from his seat. “Right, my house, I’ll go get that.” He strode off down the hall, leaving you two at the table amidst excited chatter over the party competition.

“Are you ready to lose, hotshot?” you exclaimed as you looked back into Chanyeol’s piercing look. “Wait till you see what I’ve got up my sleeve.”

“I know you better than anyone; prepare to have your mind blown away.” Chanyeol grinned, excitement buzzing through him at the challenge before them. But more than that, he has a chance to impress you—to see that beautiful smile light up for him. This was a challenge he fully intended to win.

A comfortable silence fell as you both speculated on each other's potential plans, sizing one another up. You'd always loved this competitive side of Chanyeol, this fiery spirit that refused to back down. It only made defeating him all the sweeter.

Soon enough, Baekhyun returned with Jongdae in tow, interrupting your stare-off. "Alright, lovebirds, break it up. Dae, you're just in time,” he playfully raised his eyebrows, creating anticipation.

“Why? What’s going on? Why are these two looking like they could set each other on fire?”

“They’re planning each other’s birthday party as a challenge.” As Baekhyun quickly filled Jongdae in, you shared a secret smile with Chanyeol, amused by the situation you got yourselves into because of both of your competitive natures.

“Another challenge?” Jongdae asked. “Weren’t you two challenging each other on Overwatch a couple of weeks ago?”

The two of you laughed, reminiscing about your late nights playing at his house. “I won!” Chanyeol exclaimed, punching the air.

“I’ll need a rematch soon, though,” you requested, smiling at Chanyeol and reaching for his hand.

“These two live for a challenge; just look at them. This is going to be epic.” Baekhyun nudged Jongdae.

“What is the prize?” Jongdae asked an interesting question, causing both of you to look at each other curiously.

Baekhyun was faster than you with his answer. “Bragging rights as the ultimate party mastermind?” he suggested.

Jongdae let out a low whistle. “High stakes. I can’t wait to see how this plays out.” He looked at Chanyeol. “You’d better bring your A-game. Y/N’s a fierce competitor.”

Chanyeol chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Oh, don’t you worry, I know this one like the back of my hand.” Turning to Jongdae and Baekhyun, he said, “alright, gentlemen, I’m gonna need all the help I can get if I want to truly wow our Y/N here. Who’s with me?”

“What?” You exclaimed. “Help?”

“Okay, fair play. I think we could raise the stakes even more. What do you say we open it up for the rest of the gang, have them choose sides?”

“Chanyeol,” you said too quickly before you comprehended his request. “Wait… I like how that sounds.”

Chanyeol chuckled at your flustered reaction, loving how easily he could rile you up without trying. Opening the competition up to the members was surely going to make it even more entertaining.

Leaning in close, Chanyeol dropped his voice into a playful whisper. “Don’t worry, jagiya, I’ll still go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes, interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing tightly. “In your dreams. Just you wait, I’ll get the best on my team.”

Chanyeol only laughed at the lovely gleam in your eyes. “Guys, you’re with me, right?” He asked, looking back at his friends.

“You got it, Yeol!” Baekhyun shouted and went to encourage Chanyeol, massaging his shoulders a little too harshly and giving you an apologetic smile. You just giggled as you squinted at him, while Chanyeol frowned, trying to hide the pain from Baekhyun’s pressure on his shoulders.

Jongdae smiled sheepishly, hesitating. “We can assemble the teams tomorrow after our meeting,” he suggested, earning time to share his decision.

“Yah, Jongdae! How are you not joining me immediately?”

“Sorry Chanyeol-ah, I believe in Y/N’s fierceness,” Jongdae said as he offered a high-five your way.

Chanyeol chuckled good-naturedly as Jongdae sided with you, not surprised at his choice. Your competitive fire and passion for planning are unmatched, and you two have known each other long enough after all—it was no wonder he wanted to join your squad.

Still, it stung a little to lose one of his closest friends so early in the game. He turned on his best puppy-dog eyes, pouting playfully. “Dae, you wound me.”

You only grinned, giving Jongdae’s shoulder a proud pat. He chuckled and shrugged at Chanyeol. “I’ve always had a soft spot for this silly troublemaker here.”

You looked back at Jongdae, still not fully understanding his words. “I’m gonna try to take that as a compliment.”

Baekhyun smiled at his team leader with pride. “We’ve got this, Yeol. We’ll get the members on our side easily.”

Chuckling, he offered a thankful nod for the vote of confidence, but his focus remained on you. Your smile almost sent him into a trance again. This was sure to be epic, and somehow he knew that no matter who emerged victorious, the real win would be to keep on witnessing your happiness and celebrating one more milestone with you by his side—sharing his birthday date with you was so exciting.

You stared at the screen showing the floor numbers going up to Chanyeol’s apartment. The excitement built up with every change, and you almost jumped out of the elevator when the doors opened to his floor. Every step you took was even more confident and joyous as you walked down the hall, giddy with anticipation for the fun you will all have assigning the teams for the challenge.

Your heartbeats speeded up as you heard the door opening just after one press of the doorbell. Chanyeol must have been as eager as you to begin the selection and see you again.

His smile was so bright when his eyes met yours. You embraced him in a warm hug and searched for his gaze, planting a tender kiss on his lips.

“Aw the lovebirds are too cute.” You heard Jongin’s voice behind Chanyeol. He was carrying a bowl full of popcorn, stealing some before anyone could.

“Jongin!” You shouted, moving away from Chanyeol to wrap your arms around the loveliest of the members. You had missed him dearly and didn’t know he would come.

“Oh, careful, the popcorn!” Jongin exclaimed, chuckling. “Aw, it’s so nice to see you, Y/N,” he squeezed you back.

“I was replaced so quickly,” Chanyeol commented, looking at you with a pout, jokingly.

“No, just in time. Otherwise, I would call it all off, and I can’t let that happen; I need to win this,” you smiled mischievously.

Chanyeol recovered his smile and wrapped around you again, resting his head on your shoulder and offering Jongin a small cheeky grin.

“You two are also crazy,” Jongin giggled.

Minseok’s voice called you all to the living room. You grinned as you slipped into the soft slippers waiting by the door, always so thoughtful of Chanyeol. Interlacing your fingers with his, you pulled him eagerly into the living room—Jongin trailing behind you as he kept stealing popcorn.

The joyful chatter and laughter welcomed you, and your smile only grew at the familiar faces gathered there already.

You quickly made your rounds, greeting each member with a tight hug. It had been too long since you had seen them all together. The energy was soon filled with anticipation for whatever was coming their way.

Once you settled beside Chanyeol on the couch, you started, “well, I believe it’s time to announce the reason why we gathered you all here.”

“Yeah, I didn’t say much before our meeting,” Chanyeol continued. “Y/N and I are—“

“Getting married?” Baekhyun interrupted, throwing the obvious cheesy joke, but he still managed to surprise Junmyeon and Sehun. The former had a surprised yet alarmed look on his face, while the latter was pure confusion, possibly even hurt that his hyung didn’t tell him before everyone else.

Chanyeol shook his head, shooting Baekhyun a playful glare before continuing. “Not quite yet… though who knows what the future may hold…” He trailed off meaningfully, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You could feel the tips of your ears heating up at the implication; its meaning was not lost on you. You cleared your throat, regaining focus, as you recollected your thoughts to explain to the group the playful challenge that brought you all together that evening.

Gasps and cheers erupted at the revelation, drawing a small giggle from both of you. You knew you had chosen the right people for the task. Scanning their lively faces, you witnessed their spirited encouragement for you both. Your gaze then met Chanyeol's, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection as he squeezed your hand in support of addressing the lively crowd. Though nerves fluttered at the challenge before you, his encouraging smile steadied your resolve to see this joyful contest through.

Chanyeol pulled you closer to peck your cheek once the members awaited for you two to start the recruiting. His mischievous mind was already plotting ways to convince the members to join him. “The winning team gets bragging rights until the next get-together. Possibly some other goods and favors during the planning. So what do you say—who wants a spot on the champion squad?” Chanyeol rallied.

It almost seemed like cheating because of how he talked too convincingly, so you nudged him, trying to tickle him and throw him off his game. He did bring some arms up and laughter from the rest of the members.

“Not fair using gifts to get them on your side; you cheat!” You accused him playfully.

Chanyeol was still laughing on mute with your tickling. He managed to grab your wrists, struggling to catch his breath between giggles. “All’s fair in love and party planning, jagi.” Those dazzling eyes of his seemed to sparkle even brighter with amusement.

You couldn’t help but melt a little at his smile. Leaning in, you pressed a swift peck to his lips before pulling back with a shy smile as you heard the members’ whistles and teasing cheers. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Park,” you whispered.

Sehun made a weird, puking sound. “Ugh, you two, my eyes hurt! I might need some new sunglasses if you want me on your team.”

You flashed him a playful grin. “Aw, I think Sehunnie is only sour ‘cause no one’s showing him any love,” you teased, earning some laughs from the other members.

He scoffed, feigning his usual cool disinterest, but it was almost evident that suppressed laughter was hiding behind his irritated gaze. You were the only person in the world that Chanyeol knew that could withstand teasing Sehun and emerge unscathed. He took a little advantage of this fact and drew you closer, casually draping his arm around your shoulder. With a mischievous gesture, he pressed a smacking kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal and playfully swat him away.

“You’ll always be our favorite maknae,” Chanyeol declared cheerfully.

Sehun simply rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. “Yeah yeah, just save the PDA for later, you saps. I really want my new pair of Ray Bans… and celebrate you two,” he mumbled the last words, but the slight quiver at the corner of his mouth betrayed the levity he was trying so hard to conceal.

The members erupted into renewed laughter and chatter once more. With your guidance, the debates over team selections began soon enough. Baekhyun, already on Team Chanyeol, was trying to win Kyungsoo over to their side.

You nudged Jongdae, your partner in crime, and he sat down next to Kyungsoo, offering a fist bump. Hesitating at first, he looked between Baekhyun and Jongdae with a flustered smile. Kyungsoo looked back at you and then at Chanyeol, a smirk forming in his mouth. It was a battle of looks, but an important one if any of you wanted to secure the Ace member you two seemed to have thought of. With his incredible knowledge and skills with food, he was surely the member you would fight over in the most passionate way. The rest of the members couldn’t help but notice the gazing battle before them, expectantly waiting for the outcome.

Kyungsoo seemed to find out in that moment that he could be the MVP you two were looking for. He held his gaze with Chanyeol, but his smirk didn’t fade away as he responded to Jongdae’s fist bump request. “This is the winning team,” he decided. “I’m with Y/N all the way,” he said, looking back at you with an honest smile yet offering a mischievous wink.

A collective gasp rose at Kyungsoo’s declaration. You caught Chanyeol’s gaze with a smug grin, already envisioning the victory feast you would have in your hands with Kyungsoo on your team.

However, Chanyeol wasn’t giving up that easily. “C’mon, Kyungsoo-ya, with those skills of yours, you’ll be our real MVP. We’ll have a whole spread just for you.”

Kyungsoo was not that convinced yet, but it seemed his resolve did waver when Baekhyun began pleading unashamedly. “Please, please, please. You’ll have whatever you want. I won’t bother you in the least; you’ll have all the calm you—“

Amused with Baekhyun, you had to intervene, sliding in on Kyungsoo’s other side and resting your arm on his shoulders. “Don’t listen to their lies, Soo. You know I’ll treat you like the king you are, right, Jongdae?”

Your right-hand man chimed in effortlessly. “Only the finest ingredients and treatment for our Soo.”

The members were more than entertained by Kyungsoo’s recruiting between you and Chanyeol. A wholehearted chuckle rumbled from Kyungsoo’s chest as he patted your hand. “Flattery will get you anywhere, I see. Alright, consider me recruited for Team Y/N!”

Chanyeol shot a playful pout at you, which you returned with a wink. “Thank you, Soo! I promise you a sweet victory over those two.”

“Traitor!” Baekhyun crossed his arms theatrically. “You’ll pay for your betrayal with mediocre snacks.”

Kyungsoo simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “If you’re that worried, maybe you picked the wrong team.”

Laughter rose up at the cheeky retort. You simply beamed, already buzzing with plans and partnerships. With Kyungsoo secured, you only had a couple of key members left to convince.

You scanned the circle, looking for Junmyeon, who stood on the other side, observing the exchanges with fond amusement. But in that moment, Jongin caught your attention as he raised his hand to speak up. Chanyeol encouraged with a nod of his head, and everyone turned their focus towards him. “How will you know which party planner truly wins if the other ends up having the best party either way?”

A collective murmur of agreement resonated through the group. Jongin had a valid point, prompting you to share a meaningful look with Chanyeol as you pondered over the dilemma. He grinned suddenly. “I’ve got it! We can’t plan and ask for each other’s input or interference, so until our day, we reveal the parties simultaneously without seeing each other’s plans in advance.”

You snapped your fingers, reading his mind. “And we nominate an impartial judge to decide which event was better planned and executed overall. No bias from us at all.”

“They are so in sync, these two.” Baekhyun seemed to be in a full-on teasing mood, beaming at the shared love in your gazes.

“Baekhyun-ah, you’re going to make Sehun puke for real,” Chanyeol said between giggles.

“You two could seriously stop with the PDA though,” Sehun snarked, rolling his eyes while he hid a smile.

“They are cute though,” Minseok commented.

You took a deep breath to stop your laughter, thanks to their chatter. “Anyways, great catch, Jonginie. You might be team captain material after all.”

He ducked his head shyly, but his eyes shone with pride. A hush fell as all eyes turned expectantly back to you and Chanyeol.

“Then what do you say, Nini? Care to join my team?” Chanyeol asked.

Jongin gave it a small thought, looking between you two. “Yeah! Peer pressure and all,” he chuckled at Baekhyun’s crazy look directed at him.

Chanyeol’s smile shined bright. You beamed at him, letting him win this one. “Sorry, Y/N, but I promise to make sure you love your party. Count me as some kind of ally on the other side full of clowns.” Jongin offered you an apologetic bowl of popcorn.

“This is some type of scheme; look, Chanyeol!” Sehun said after witnessing Jongin whispering at you. Jongin just walked towards Chanyeol as he giggled.

“I take it you’re joining Chanyeol,” you assumed, playfully squinting at him.

“Well, the decision is really simple… you have a cool and fun advantage, but I really want those Ray Ban sunglasses, so I’ll remain loyal to Chanyeol hyung.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened, almost regretting his bribing, but he was securing himself a fun team for the party planning. You darted your eyes back to Junmyeon and Minseok; there had to be a way to get both of them on your team.

Junmyeon still watched on serenely, taking in all of the energy, while Minseok conversed quietly with Kyungsoo. You were so proud of your team, sneakily drawing the best members to side with you. You focused on Junmyeon, flashing a charming smile. “Leader-nim, you haven’t committed to a team yet. Care to lend your impeccable taste and wisdom to Team Y/N?”

Chanyeol cut in swiftly. “Hyung hyung! You know you want to be where the fun is; just come over here!”

Junmyeon chuckled. “Both sides make compelling cases…” His eyes twinkled playfully.

Minseok spoke up suddenly. “I’m team Y/N! I’m convinced by your amazing recruiting skills, that can only translate into great leadership.” He winked in your direction, accompanied by a bright smile. “Also, you might need some muscle,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he playfully showed his biceps, only to shy away with a giggle.

You pouted, moved by his encouragement. “Thank you so much, Minseok! You’re the obvious wildcard with all of your talents.”

Chanyeol could only beam at the entire interaction. He really wanted his hyung on his team, but seeing how you managed to convince him, he just let it be. Witnessing how his friends accepted you was worth more than anything; the respect that Minseok’s words had for you was quite moving.

“Are you not pitching in, jagi?” you asked, and he simply shook his head. “Well, Junmyeon. You’re a package deal, right? Minseok chose Team Y/N; are you in too?” You held on to Jongdae’s arm, expecting the leader’s answer.

“Don’t forget about me, hyung! We got this, but we need our fearless leader.”

Junmyeon’s smile was unbreakable. “You two are meant for each other, no doubt, huh?” He looked at his hand, pondering for a little while, until he met your hopeful gaze with his signature calm. “I believe in Team Y/N.”

His words sparked elation among your already lively squad. He approached cautiously, but you enveloped him in a tight hug, feeling his quiet laughter rumble through his chest.

Pulling back, you searched for Chanyeol’s eyes across from you. He was so pure, smiling like that, radiating pride and joy. Crossing over to him, you extended a hand, which he delicately grasped, tugging you in as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt the soft wool of his sweater against your cheek, and his heartbeat resonated in your ears louder than the cheers from the members around you two.

Chanyeol's bright eyes crinkled into crescents as he tapped your back gently. "You pulled a great team together, congrats!" He giggled softly into your embrace before reluctantly letting go.

You met his shining gaze, getting lost in the warmth and affection reflected there. Leaning in, you pressed a swift kiss to his awaiting lips, eliciting whoops and hollers from the members watching on. As you broke apart, grinning like fools, his hands lingered on your arms a moment more before dropping away all too soon.

"May the best team win, Yeollie. I'll see you at the finish line!" With one last grin, you turned to rejoin your squad, heart soaring.

This challenge lit a new fire within you. With the inspiration of your team and Chanyeol's love and support behind you, there was no way you could lose. The party was sure to be one for the ages.

You and Chanyeol sat side by side under the dark blue sky; your crocheted blanket that he gifted you once when you were just catching feelings for him was over the two of you. Winter felt nearer every single night because of how cold the evenings were becoming, yet it occurred to you both to go out and see the city view from the rooftop of your apartment’s building, with Namsan Tower in the distance perfectly adjusted in the landscape.

Comfortable silence embraced you as you reflected on everything that brought you to this specific moment in time together. The past couple of days were surely fun to spend with his dear members. You had missed each other though, so you decided to have a night in to distract you from all the planning and dedicate time to each other.

Noticing your boyfriend’s pensive smile, your heart grew curious, but it also swelled at seeing him so serene. You were sure this was what you wanted to see every single moment—the genuine purpose that had driven you all along. Yet pride lingered too in all of the plans already set in motion and the efforts of beloved souls. To call off the challenge now seemed unfair when the group had already rallied; you realized that harmony can rule where care guides the way.

Next to you, Chanyeol marveled at your radiant glow, shining brighter than any festivity ever could. He let out a soft sigh, quiet but content. He felt reassured that the thoughts occupying his mind lately were the right choice to make.

The chill night air nipped at his fingers as he gazed over the city, but his heart felt warm and cozy under the blanket with you. So much has changed since the days when a glance from you sent his pulse racing; now your mere presence at his side brings calm. Turning, he took your hand in his, rubbing gently to warm it.

You peered at his thoughtful face, exquisitely brightened by the moonlight and the city lights. There was a calmness in his eyes that you were just now discovering, but it filled you up with so much reassurance.

“So Yixing called me today,” Chanyeol started, whispering.

You stopped his hand with a squeeze and searched for his eyes with a small giggle. “We’re not supposed to share any insights, jagi.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer in a warm embrace. “I’m not, I’m not. He just wanted to say that he would come and be the judge.”

“Oh you couldn’t recruit the gentle heart of his,” you giggled.

He gasped and squeezed you tighter. “Don’t tease me, or I’ll look for payback.”

“Like I can’t take it,” you said daringly.

Chanyeol’s look was filled with mischief. Wrapping both arms snugly around your waist, he pulled you closer still until your faces were mere inches apart. “Oh, you think you’re so tough, hm?” he chuckled, low and rumbling.

Your entire body felt lighter somehow, and the smile forming at the corner of your lips was so genuine. You leaned and nuzzled his nose, getting a nervous giggle out of him. He was truly enchanted by this lighthearted side of yours.

Gathering back his courage, he tightened his grip on you, causing you to squirm and burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Your laughter proved infectious, and he eventually found himself lying down, clutching his belly. Following suit, you allowed yourself to collapse at his side, resting your head on his chest and basking in the warmth of his body and the melodic sound of his laughter.

As you gazed up at him, your eyes locked for a brief moment before you leaned in, bringing your lips together in a passionate kiss and indulging in a fleeting moment of fiery connection.

Breaking up the kiss, Chanyeol chuckled softly. “I have to leave; I don’t want to.”

It was impossible to hold back your laughter, knowing the feeling all too well. Reluctantly pulling yourself from his embrace, you took his hand and gazed into his eyes, alight with care and tenderness even when you knew he had to leave.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, a playful smile teasing at your lips.

He giggled in return, interlacing his long fingers with yours. “As much as I’d love to stay right here with you always, duty calls pretty early tomorrow morning.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “But I will be counting the moments until I can see you again.”

When he allowed himself to be affectionate and lighthearted, you couldn't resist falling even more deeply for him. Standing up, you extended a hand to help Chanyeol rise to his feet, both of you reluctant to break contact just yet. He retrieved the blanket and guided you back indoors, never once releasing your hand.

Still filled with reluctance, you shared one last lingering kiss before parting ways. Closing the door of your apartment slowly, you couldn’t help but hope that he might change his mind and decide to stay. However, you knew that his care for you would remain, even when he was not physically there. Climbing into bed, a sense of contentment washed over you as you treasured the precious and much-needed moments of intimacy that you two had shared.

The next afternoon, you reunited with your team for the last in-person party planning meeting since they were all pretty busy with their work schedules.

The previous night had given you so much clearance about what you really wanted to do. The members had the best ideas, and you all had pre-planned some of them, so it was time to decide which one would take flight for the challenge and win that precious title. But your heart joined you slowly and changed your perspective.

It was Jongdae who noticed your pensiveness. Approaching carefully, he smiled at you. “Someone on your mind?” He whispered, aware of the echo that the meeting room he managed to get for you all created.

You chuckled silently, taking a look at the rest of your team busy on their notebooks and cellphones. “You could say so,” you whispered back at your friend.

“You know, Minseok and I managed to get in contact with a drone show service. We still don’t know if they would take it to the yacht party,” he chuckled, conscious of how all those words together sounded. Your team had some crazy ideas for sure, all for the fun of past full-on competitive brainstorming sessions.

Junmyeon walked towards you with a solution in mind for the games/gaming theme party idea you had between your options. “Y/N! My friend from the set design department has some chess pieces we can use for the decoration. They’re giant, wanna see—“

He also noticed the difference in your smile. “Have you decided on the 1 Billion Views theme?” he asked.

“Y/N’s gotten distracted by a little—not little, someone,” Jongdae taunted, projecting his voice to fill the entire room. The sound made Kyungsoo and Minseok look your way, eliciting affectionate coos and chuckles from them.

“Guys, it’s not—what you think, I mean…” you trailed off, giggling. “Come, let’s have a little chat,” you requested.

Minseok and Kyungsoo approached, sitting in front of you at the table. They waited patiently for you to continue while you peeked at their notes and yours, happy to have had the best party planning team on your side. You sighed, realizing there was something bigger calling at you from deep inside.

“I know I’ve delayed the decision a bit. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think… I think it would be best to keep it a little simpler.” The look on their faces didn’t change much; they were still paying attention. If there was any surprise in their eyes, they knew how to hide it pretty well.

“I have loved our interaction as a team; I couldn’t ask for a better one. There’s just a little something, a little voice that has been telling me to not go crazy with Chanyeol’s party.”

“What do you want to do then, Y/N?” Minseok wondered, showing you a caring smile. The rest of the guys had the same look, showing their care.

“We will probably not win this, but I don’t want all of those flashy things for his party. I want Yeollie's day to reflect all the love and joy he's brought to our lives simply by being himself. His generous spirit, his caring heart—that's what's most deserving of honor.”

“I’m in,” Kyungsoo encouraged.

You smiled at him, and the others agreed to the change wholeheartedly. “Yixing will be the judge; you can still win this,” Minseok commented, making all of you chuckle.

In another meeting room within the building, Team Chanyeol was enthusiastically planning your party, fueled by Chanyeol’s infectious energy. This fun team had all the chemistry needed for the best rave anyone could ask for, but they had been changing plans since two weeks ago.

More bribery had been required to get Sehun to agree to Chanyeol’s change of heart, but he eventually came around and eagerly joined his hyung in orchestrating the most endearing and romantic surprise for you.

As the meeting came to a close, Chanyeol felt his heart near-bursting with gratitude for his amazing team. They shed the initial rave plans, but their eyes still brimmed with enthusiasm, now transformed into a deeper purpose.

"Alright guys, I think that about does it for now," he announced, beaming around at their eager faces. "We've put together something truly special that I know Y/N will love."

Baekhyun slung an arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder, grinning mischievously. "And maybe if we play our cards right, a certain someone will finally work up the courage to—"

Chanyeol cut him off with a playful punch, feeling his cheeks flush at the implication. But maybe, just maybe, he had a point buried in his teasing. This night could be about new beginnings as well as celebrating what has already blossomed so beautifully between you and him.

Sehun must have sensed his distraction, clearing his throat loudly. “So, are we telling Y/N about this change or keeping it a surprise?”

Smiling softly, he shook his head. “No need to tell. I want it to be a complete surprise when Y/N sees what we’ve done. This isn’t about winning or losing anymore; I just want it to be special for Y/N.”

“I knew this was going to happen,” Jongin commented with a knowing smile on his face. “He can’t help it! He sometimes lets Y/N win at their challenges.”

“I don’t—“ He tried to object, but he knew that he had done it before. But you are unstoppable and a great competitor.

His friends couldn’t resist teasing him. "Alright, fine, you got me," he laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll admit Y/N is a tough opponent, and it's hard not to go soft sometimes with that gorgeous grin."

Baekhyun snickered gleefully while Sehun pretended to gag, earning a playful shove from Chanyeol in return. But beneath the humor, a warm fondness swelled in his chest at the thought of you—your smile, your spirit, the way you somehow always made him want to be better.

Sobering slightly, he continued. "Seriously though, guys, Y/N means the world to me. This is about showing Y/N how much I care."

Jongin shot him a knowing wink and a thumbs up. Chanyeol grinned sheepishly, nerves and excitement dancing hand in hand at the prospect. Then, shaking himself back to the present, he clapped his hands decisively.

He beamed at his teammates, his heart filled with gratitude and love. "Now come on, boys, we've got a party to prepare!"

A sense of excitement coursed through both of you as you walked hand in hand down the hallway. You heard how Chanyeol took a deep breath and felt his fingers tenderly squeezing yours.

His eyes had shined so brightly when he looked at you earlier. He stumbled, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. You were proud of yourself to be able to keep making him flustered. You couldn’t talk much either, because when you caught a glimpse of him across the room, your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened as you smiled wider.

Part of you wanted to just linger in that intimate bubble you had created together in the hallway, but another part wanted to see what surprise lay behind the party room doors. Chanyeol had that look—the one where his smile could only form crescents on his eyes. You knew whatever awaited you inside would be magical.

Nothing could have prepared you two for the astonishing scene that greeted you as you entered. The love and warmth that flooded the room nearly swept you off your feet. You were overwhelmed with gratitude for each cherished friend and family member who came to celebrate this special day with the both of you.

Reluctantly letting go of Chanyeol's hand, you made your way through the crowd, embracing everyone with hugs and smiles. Their well-wishes and affection meant the world.

When you two finally reconnected in the center, you turned to Chanyeol with shining eyes. "So, ready for a tour of your birthday party?” You held his hand. “I really hope you like it; that’s all that matters to me now.”

The real reason for your words passed him by because of the excitement deep within him for his plans for your birthday party, but he nodded eagerly as he smiled warmly.

Yixing approached you both. “Is it okay if I accompany you two while you check the parties?” he asked a little bashful, knowing it would be awkward to have him around while you shared your feelings poured out in all of the planning choices for each of your birthday parties.

“It’s fine, Yixing! You’re the judge after all,” you accepted, offering him a kind smile.

As you guided them both, Chanyeol gasped in delight at each thoughtful detail in the decoration that your team came up with. The games he loved playing decorated the room, a star projector enhanced the mood, and food and drinks were inspired by the games he loved the most.

But it was the dance floor that truly left him speechless—an interactive mat where guests could join in the music. As he tested it out, his enjoyment enhanced as he heard songs from his favorite artists and games represented. The guests around him cheered at him, and he spread some high-fives.

“Y/N, this is too amazing! How did you manage to plan something so perfect?” He breathed, taking your hands in awe.

“Your friends were key factors in the planning. They had the craziest ideas.” Your smile radiated warmth, and Chanyeol wrapped you in a tight embrace. You saw your crew and mouthed a thank you towards them, in case you hadn’t said it enough.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “There’s one last surprise,” you said, smiling back at Yixing.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened expectantly. “Show me!” he exclaimed excitedly, and you led him towards a red arcade-like machine decorated with musical notes, guitars, drums, and pianos.

Chanyeol had to hold on to you for balance because of the amount of joy that radiated from his face at seeing a familiar character on the screen—it was him, rendered lovingly in pixelated form.

“Y/N… is this for real? Does it work?”

“Yes, it does,” you answered, pressing the play button. “Minseok knew this game creator who helped us with this mini adventure game with you in it. I hope you like it.”

Heart swelling with affection, he couldn’t help but pull you into a tight hug, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Are you kidding? This is the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me!”

You planted a kiss on his lips before your team approached to hear what Chanyeol thought about his gift. Chanyeol hugged each member, not being able to contain his euphoria.

It was his time to show you the party that he planned, but the game seemed too interesting not to play it right away. “Thank you all again. This is—this means the world to me,” he beamed, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you mind if I play through just a bit before we continue?”

You couldn’t help but laugh brightly. “Of course, take your time! I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

With that, he eagerly ventured into the pixelated quests alongside his virtual self, grinning wider with each level completed. From the corner of his eye, he saw you chatting happily with Yixing and Junmyeon, radiating warmth and care.

The game ended all too soon, but he came out victorious. He took another look at you. The game was fun, but his plans were more exciting. Chanyeol approached your group with a smile on his face and tenderly held your hand in his. “That was even better than I imagined,” he sighed happily.

He turned to Yixing. “I believe it’s my turn now.”

Yixing smiled knowingly. “Cool! Let’s go check what magic you’ve conjured for Y/N’s special day.”

Chanyeol winked at you and led you to the other side of the room. You had peeked a little when you arrived and while Chanyeol played with the video game, but it was even better to experience it fully.

Light beams danced upon the walls, matching the colorful LED light decorations; all of the food and drinks glowed in neon-like colors, but it was the photo booth that surprised you the most.

“Care to try it with me?” Chanyeol asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You nodded eagerly and stepped into the cozy photo kiosk. Chanyeol grabbed two flashlights and offered you one before he dimmed the lights down.

He kissed your cheek on the way. “Do you remember the light painting exhibition we saw months ago? It gave me an idea.”

“No way this works for real,” you exclaimed.

“I know, let’s try!”

You doodled around with the flashlight, but Chanyeol seemed to have something in mind based on how precise his movements were. As you exited the booth, Yixing took the photo strip with a sweet smile directed towards you two.

“You two are something else; you should check this out, Y/N.” Yixing handed you the prints.

Tears of delight pooled in your eyes as you finally saw what Chanyeol was so focused on drawing with the flashlight: “You’re my light,” writing each word in each picture and a heart for the last one. Yixing found it endearing that you also drew a heart for the last picture, with an arrow on the side pointing towards Chanyeol.

“Chanyeol…” you breathed, gazing upon him with all the affection overflowing your soul. Words could not capture what he meant to you and the magical moment you found each other in. Smiling softly, emanating that same light he described you to be for him, he stopped the little tear about to fall down your cheek.

A chorus of “awwws” caught your attention as Team Chanyeol approached behind you. Even Sehun was cheering for you, but he didn’t let go of the opportunity to playfully roll his eyes at you when he caught your gaze.

Their care for you in that moment meant everything. You smiled and joyfully welcomed Baekhyun and Jongin’s embrace. But Chanyeol softly pulled you close once more, needing more of your moment together. His eyes shone just for you.

“This is lovely, but we’re still in a challenge that needs to crown a winner,” Baekhyun teased, giving you a small wink.

“I believe the true winner is obvious,” you teased back, mirroring his gesture.

“I-I’m not ready… was I supposed to decide now?” Yixing asked, making you all chuckle.

Chanyeol placed a hand on Yixing’s shoulder. “Not yet, man. Whenever you’re ready,” he clarified. “But for now, let’s have fun!”

With that, Chanyeol and you made your way to the dance floor, dancing under the lights. Your friends gathered close, sharing laughter and jokes wherever you were.

As the music flowed through you, all else fell softly away; only the joy of the moment shared with the one you dearly considered as your person remained. Chanyeol's smiling eyes held galaxies of warmth within which you were happy to lose yourself time and again.

Letting go of the challenge and only planning the party to make Chanyeol happy made you forget about the prize. Seeing him happy and having the most fun he could on his special day with the people he loved the most was the reward you didn’t know you were looking for. Although the competition brought you all there, it was the bond you all shared that made each moment sweet.

Chanyeol and you were lost in competition over Tekken when Jongin approached and whispered something in Chanyeol’s ear. Jongin flashed a warm smile in your direction before making his way back.

You looked at Chanyeol, wondering what was going on, but he grabbed your hand before you could speak up. “Come,” he said softly.

Intrigued, you followed him to the opposite side of the room. Near the photo booth, there was some sort of window that he seemed to have covered so the light from outside wouldn’t enter the room. It seemed completely reasonable because it could have made it difficult for the light painting in the photos to work. But when he moved the curtain and opened the door—not window—a balcony with a set of stairs decorated with fairy lights surprised you.

For starters, you didn’t even know that your venue had a balcony. Jongdae and Minseok had come to check it out with Chanyeol because you had been busy that day.

Your heart fluttered, filled with expectations. You glanced back at him with questioning eyes, and his shined brighter than any light decoration in the room. The warmth of his hand holding yours was calming; his thumb brushed the back of your hand, inviting you outside with a little squeeze.

You followed him up the spiral stairs until you reached the rooftop. The view of a cozy seating area and the gentle, chilly breeze enveloping you caused you to seek out Chanyeol’s comforting presence, yearning for his warmth.

Chanyeol's secret paradise took your breath away. With lights glowing softly all around, it was as if stardust itself had sprinkled down upon that rooftop nook just for the both of you. It seemed like his message on the light painting photos was not at all random.

His giggle caught your attention, and as you looked at him, you realized you both had played the same game all along, but he still continued to amaze you, heart and soul.

“I had one last surprise, for your eyes only,” he simply said as he led you to the cozy nest of beanbags, his guitar waiting alongside your private feast. Joy and gratitude swelled within your heart.

“One last surprise, you say?” Smiling softly, you traced his cheek. “Yeollie, being here with you is the greatest gift of all. You’ve given me magic where I least expected to find it.”

His signature simple, nervous smile never failed to melt your heart. As he leaned to steal a kiss, you couldn’t help but grin at his adorable, flustered ways. “I… have something,” he said as he grabbed his guitar and gestured for you to take the beanbag next to him. “I’ve been working on a song for you.”

You settled in with eager eyes fixed on his handsome face. As he strummed those first soft chords, he captured your gaze, making you feel as if nothing else existed in the world besides the music flowing between you two. And when he finally started singing, his velvety voice and heartfelt words engulfed you completely.

You leaned into him, tracing patterns along his back while grinning at the way he watched you from the corner of his eyes, full of care.

The song drifted softly away, leaving only the sounds of the city below and your mingled breaths in the cool night air. You turned then to find Chanyeol watching you still, a question in his eyes that held its own beauty.

Reaching up, you traced the curve of his lips, feeling his breath hitch. "Chanyeol... that was the most beautiful song I’ve heard, and it-it means so much that you wrote it just for me,” you whispered, struggling a little to speak between tears of joy. “You’re my genius songwriter."

He hurried to dry your tears, making you giggle. The emotions were becoming clearer within you, and your palm found its place over his beating heart. His hand closed over yours and intertwined your fingers. “You have no idea how happy I am to see how much my song moved you, jagiya."

He lowered his gaze for a second as he took a deep breath before he looked into your eyes once more. “You are my whole world. And I love you, Y/N."

Joy overflowed within you as your heart swelled almost to the point of bursting. Hearing those words from him for the first time since you met him compares to nothing else in the world. Your heart found solace, and your face radiated a brilliance that outshone all the lights around you. Raising his knuckles to your lips, you met his expectant smile. "I love you too, Yeollie. With all of me," you whispered.

A gentle smile spread across Chanyeol's face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. He reached up to cradle your cheek, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb.

Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before slowly resting his own against it, relishing the intimate connection. Your hand continued to rest firmly over his racing heart, filling him with a comforting warmth and deep appreciation for the love you both cherished.

"I meant every word, you know," Chanyeol murmured. "You truly are my whole world. From the moment I met you, I was a goner. Your smile, your laugh, your beautiful soul—you stole my heart completely without even trying."

Reaching up to cup your cheeks in his hands, Chanyeol sealed his declaration with a lingering kiss, pouring all of his adoration and passion into the tender moment you shared under the moonlight. In the warmth of your embrace, you both uncovered the ultimate reward that lay at the heart of your spirited party planning endeavors—it all began and concluded with love.

Epilogue

“Alright guys! Are you ready for the real party planning showdown between Chanyeol and Y/N?” Chanyeol announced, looking at all of the faces of his friends before him.

“I hope you don’t end up proposing this time or anything,” Sehun commented, and you threw a marshmallow at him.

“Behave, Sehun. We already know you love us; no need for snarky comments, dork.” You shut him up, earning giggles from the rest of the members. You glanced at Chanyeol and stole a quick kiss from his lips.

“Yixing, hyung, are you ready to choose a team this time? These two are fierce!” Jongdae asked him, knowing that last time he had a difficult time choosing between you two and ended up declaring it a tie. Considering what went down on your birthday, everyone accepted it. Yixing himself suggested making the challenge all over again so your own feelings wouldn’t get in the way and leave him with a tough decision.

“I’m really not sure, but this seems more fun than judging,” Yixing replied.

“This time it is my birthday, so I will be the judge,” Kyungsoo said, giggling at Yixing’s expression. “Don’t worry, hyung, just choose Y/N’s team!”

“Oh, oh, this judge has some strong bias; should we truly trust him?” Baekhyun pointed out teasingly.

Jongin was pure laughter beside you, while Minseok tried to intervene. “Kyungsoo knows what he’s talking about, but it could be fun switching teams for this challenge.”

“I would love to be on Y/N’s side this time around,” Jongin commented.

Before more silly debates continued, Junmyeon raised his hand, trying to calm everyone. “Guys, let’s start with the recruiting! We have a chef to impress this time,” he said calmly, draping his arm around Kyungsoo.

“Are you ready?” Chanyeol looked at you with a warm smile.

“Oh, you bet, jagiya!” you exclaimed, offering a fist bump his way. He responded and sealed it with a kiss on your knuckles.

Baekhyun cleared his throat and signaled for everyone to join his chant. "May the best party planner—and partner—win!" You all exclaimed in unison.