#ideally the campus would burn to the ground

[beardedmrbean]

A massive contingent of law enforcement officers converged on People’s Park in the wee hours of Thursday morning, intent on clearing the way for crews to wall off the storied green space near the UC Berkeley campus in preparation for construction of a much-contested housing complex for students.

The university launched the extraordinary operation — designed to double-stack metal cargo containers around the entire park perimeter — around midnight.

On their arrival, police surrounded the park. Inside, they were met by several dozen protesters, chanting, "Long live People's Park" along with shouts of "Fight back!" Some were holed up for hours in a makeshift treehouse and on the roof of a single-story building in the park.

By starting the exercise under the cover of darkness and during students' winter break, university leaders hoped to minimize a conflict with activists adamant the park should remain open space, a living tribute to free speech and student activism. The university planned to install the cargo containers over several days, banking on the massive metal structures to provide a more formidable barrier than the fences that protesters have easily breached in the past.

The university acknowledged that construction of the housing, ensnared in a legal dispute, cannot begin unless the state Supreme Court agrees that the Berkeley campus has completed an adequate environmental review of the project. The proposed development would create a dormitory with space for 1,100 students in a college town with a dire shortage of affordable housing. In addition, it would include permanent supportive housing for 125 people living homeless. About 60% of the site would remain green space, with commemorative exhibits about the park’s history.

“Given that the existing legal issues will inevitably be resolved, we decided to take this necessary step now in order to minimize the possibility of disorder and disruption for the public and our students when we are eventually cleared to resume construction,” Chancellor Carol Christ said in a prepared statement.

The university said it intended to keep streets around the park, and at least one block to the north and east, closed for three or four days.

“Unfortunately, our planning and actions must take into account that some of the project’s opponents have previously resorted to violence and vandalism,” Christ said, adding that this was “despite strong support for the project on the part of students, community members, advocates for unhoused people, the elected leadership of the City of Berkeley, as well as the legislature and governor of the state of California.”

Police focused the start of their operation on a handful of protesters who had locked themselves into a makeshift wooden structure that organizers call “the kitchen,” where they had strung up a hammock and stacked supplies, according to live video from inside the shack.

Police forced their way into the structure around 12:50 a.m. Thursday and detained at least two people who had been inside. Shortly after 1 a.m., officers issued an order for the remaining 100 or so activists to disperse, saying that the demonstrations had become an “unlawful assembly.”

By 2:15 a.m., police had expanded their encirclement of the park, edging out the protesters and continuing to detain some of them. Construction workers were called in to dismantle the kitchen, and at one point, workers began chopping down trees lining the park. They later broke down tents and other structures as part of what eventually became a massive operation involving equipment and dozens of people working to transform People's Park into a future construction site.

The first two hours of the police operation were relatively calm, with protesters largely looking on, chanting occasionally and, for a handful of demonstrators, heckling the officers.

“The people united will never be defeated!” the activists chanted at one point.

By about 3 a.m., officers had successfully pushed out the vast majority of the protesters, with a few holdouts still up in the treehouse and on top of the one-story building. An hour later, the holdouts accepted a promise from officers that they would not be arrested if they came down.

Dozens more protesters waited at a barricade at the end of the block, playing music and chanting. Eventually, they ripped down some of the metal structures, and confrontations with the police intensified for a short period.

One activist who had been arrested at the kitchen was only cited, according to video posted on social media, and was back on the front lines an hour or two later.

By daybreak, police had firm control of the area and work crews stacked yellow and orange cargo containers at the east end of the park, along Bowditch Street. Dozens of workers in white hazmat suits picked up needles and other debris. The morning quiet was broken by the beep and clang of bulldozers and forklifts.

The path for the work had been cleared earlier, when cars were removed from the entire park boundary. The vehicles were towed eight blocks to a parking structure at the west end of the campus, where owners could retrieve them. They received $100 gift cards for their trouble.

A UC spokesman said police arrested a total of seven people for trespassing. They were cited and released.

Park activists put out a call for an 11 a.m. rally and march at the corner of Haste Street and Telegraph Avenue.

Activists were tipped off several days in advance that the university would try to cordon off the site while students were on break. They called the incursion by law enforcement and work crews an “attack” that would destroy a legacy to people-powered activism.

Nicholas Alexander was among a small group standing watch over the park Wednesday evening around sunset, and became the final protester to leave the park after he descended from the treehouse — from which he had overseen the demonstrations — about 3:50 a.m. Alexander, once unhoused, praised the park as a place that needy people have been able to go for decades to find assistance. He said he was part of the group that helped tear down a university-erected fence in 2022. "This park has always helped the counterculture and the disenfranchised," he said, "and it'd be a shame if it was taken from us now, because where else will we go?"

Another member of the group watching the park, Sylvia Tree, said she had graduated from Berkeley in 2021. She described the conflict as "a struggle based on the land."

"It's about a place where people who don't own any land can have a little piece of it, a piece that you can grow things on, that you can have sunshine on, that you can meet your friends on," said Tree, 25. "There's nobody who controls it. There's nobody who's selling you something."

Such passionate advocacy has become a perennial rite at the small patch of green just south of the campus and a few paces east of Telegraph Avenue.

It began more than half a century ago, in 1969, when the UC system’s founding campus announced its plan for development on what was then an empty lot. Hundreds of students and community activists had another idea, dragging sod, trees and flowers to the lot and proclaiming it People’s Park. The university responded by erecting a fence.

The student newspaper, the Daily Californian, urged students to “take back the park.” More than 6,000 people marched down Telegraph, where they were confronted by law enforcement. In the clash that followed, one man died and scores were injured.

In the decades since, the university has made repeated efforts to reclaim the property, once attempting to construct a parking lot on the edge of the park. A new generation of demonstrators arrived, with shovels and picks, to uproot the asphalt and restore plant life.

In the early 1990s, a young machete-wielding activist infuriated by the university's construction of volleyball courts at the park was shot and killed by police after she broke into the campus residence of then-Chancellor Chang-Lin Tien. Police said they found a note in the teenager's bag. It read: “We are willing to die for this piece of land. Are you?”

The push for the university to develop the property gained new life after Christ became chancellor in 2017 amid a student housing crisis. With Berkeley providing housing to a lower percentage of its students than any other UC campus, Christ promised to double the number of beds within a decade. She made it clear that she considered People’s Park — long a “third rail” that campus leaders avoided — a good location for housing.

Opponents of the housing development contend that UC Berkeley has not done enough to study alternative sites. Their cause got a boost in December, when a unit of the National Trust for Historic Preservation wrote a letter calling for "exploring all possible opportunities" for preservation of the park.

The university counters that its plan does acknowledge the historic nature of the park while also trying to resolve problems that have plagued the site and nearby streets in recent years, including homeless encampments, open drug use, petty theft and violence. UC Police Chief Yogananda Pittman characterized this week's action as necessary to provide members of the community with "the safety and security they need and deserve."

The university released results of a survey in 2021 that showed students favor the project by 56% to 31%. More recently, in an effort to address complaints that the proposed development would displace unhoused people living in the park, the university hired a full-time social worker and said most park denizens had been relocated to a Quality Inn and offered support services.

But the project suffered a setback early last year when a state appellate court ruled that UC had not properly complied with the California Environmental Quality Act, a decades-old law known as CEQA, which requires state and local governments to consider the environmental impacts of certain construction and housing projects. The court found the university had not properly addressed the issue of noise — specifically the noise generated by students who might drink and hold “unruly parties,” as some neighbors asserted in documents submitted to the court.

The court also ruled that the campus had not properly justified its decision not to consider alternative locations for the housing development. UC attorneys have said that because the project’s aim is to repurpose the park, no alternative would suffice.

The university appealed the decision to the state Supreme Court and also turned to the Legislature. Lawmakers passed a law, signed by Gov. Gavin Newsom in September, designed to make it easier for universities to build housing and overcome lawsuits from residents who raise noise concerns as a potential problem.

All parties in the dispute await a decision by the high court, and the new law presumably will factor into its deliberations.

The last concerted effort by UC to take control of the park for construction came in August 2022. Just hours after an Alameda County judge issued a tentative ruling that the university could begin clearing the park, construction machinery moved into place. But the 2 a.m. operation soon drew protesters who confronted construction crews, toppling a newly erected chain-link fence and streaming into the park, where they were tackled by California Highway Patrol officers.

By day's end, the university ended the standoff by suspending its effort to take control of the park.

Berkeley City Councilmember Kate Harrison issued a public letter this week calling on police involved in any new go-round with protesters to “follow the City of Berkeley’s rules concerning use of ‘less-lethal’ weapons and tactics,” which include a ban on the use of pepper spray and tear gas. Harrison added: “These rules, established to protect human life and people’s first amendment rights, are core to our City’s value.”

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 38

CW: None AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

Fury sits heavily on Elo's chest. If she returns to the Magister's formal office, she knows she will throttle Brauma, forcing a fight with the Shadowling for which she is not yet ready. But more than that – her ire is a slavering beast, growling and pawing to be released. Elo doesn't know how long she can contain it. So she does the only thing she can think of.

"Special Cases, Breakwood here," Farren answers on the fourth ring. "Make it snappy–" "The fucking Exchequer!" Farren's tone changes, instantly serious. "What happened?" "Insulted the King and tanked the negotiations! Brek, I'm gonna–" "Do nuffin' but get your arse out of City Hall and down to that little garden on 3rd and Francis. I'm on my way."

So she leaves. In the elevator, the operator tries to squirm to the far corner, away from her. And in the street, she's given the widest of berths. The verdure of the garden does little to calm her. By the time Farren pulls up, she's worn a dusty path from pacing. He has to catch her and hold her still. "Bug? Bug. What happened? How the hell could the Exchequer have insulted His Nibs so badly it killed the talks?" "That fuck! He tried to–" The words choke her. "Elo, what did he do?" "He tried to betroth me!" Farren's tone flattens. "What?" "To King Storri!" Elo's eyes are burning with angry tears. Farren's hands tighten on her shoulders. "Was King Storri," he asks, voice only just level, "offended by the offer, or by you?" "The offer." Farren's grip relaxes. He gives a decisive nod. "Into the car with you, girl," he says, giving her little choice about it. A small spike of anger flares at his grip on her arm – everyone is too keen today to strip her of agency – but it quickly abates as she falls into the passenger seat. Farren is only doing it because he cares. Merri cares. Strucker cares. "Where are we going?" Elo asks as Farren pulls out into the flow of traffic. "The Training Grounds." Of course, she thinks. Way back, when Elo and Farren were first partners, Elo had tried to hide the source of her one, true, vice from him. But Farren, at the end of the day, is a detective, and a damned fine one at that. It didn't take him long to figure out what none of her previous partners had cared to; nor why she only vanished to the Kord Training Grounds at stressful times. So it makes sense that he would take her there now, when the fear and the anger make her unfit for polite company.

–––

The tires crunch as they pull into the Training Grounds' parking lot. The campus is large, perched above them on a semi-artificial mound in the suburbs. Some sections are open-air, mirroring the arena they share with the Plot Hook in the city center, but much of the campus extends underground. As they get out, Elo notes Farren's grimace at the 200-step staircase. "Y'know," he says, "I think Kord is my least favourite god." "We wouldn't have such fine facilities without him," Elo points out, and they start their way up the Trial of Heaven.

For all that she dislikes the pantheon as a whole, Elo's quite fond of Kord. He's usually depicted as a warrior, the platonic ideal of every combat form and athleticism. But more than that, they share a creed – use not your strength for wanton destruction and scorn cowardice in all its forms – which she can respect. These days his disciples are more likely to be olympiads than berserkers, showing their skill in the arena rather than the battlefield; but they are no less fervent about following the dictates of their faith as they are to proving themselves. Elo's been a member of the Training Grounds since Aunt Alexis felt she was old enough to wield a weapon (quite how her Aunt managed to make it free for life, Elo never asked). Every ounce of combat she knows was learnt here, at the feet of sensei and sabumnim, grandmaster and sharpshooter.

At the top of the Trial, they bow to the statue of Kord, and Farren peels off to ask about available training while Elo changes into her gym clothes. When she returns, she almost tells Farren not to bother, because she feels calm again. Then some slab of muscle who's not paying attention knocks into her, and she has to abort the movement as she begins a spin-kick to the face – and realises she's maybe not as calm as she thought.

Farren has her run an assault course designed to train for the modern pentathlon: she runs, she shoots, she swims. She crosses swords with a trainer and jumps obstacles on horseback. After she receives feedback from the various trainers in attendance, Farren has her do it again. Only then does he let her take a dip in the jacuzzi. "Feel better?" he asks when she finally joins him at the cafe. "Much. Thank you, Brek." He squeezes her hand. "You're welcome." Around them, the cafe buzzes with conversation. Farren sips his coffee. Elo scrunches her nose at the strange green concoction he's bought her. "What are you going to do about the situation?" Farren asks. "Stay as far away from City Hall as I can get?" Elo shakes her head. "I don't know. Let His Nibs cool off. Call the hotel tomorrow, see if I can convince him to spend one last day looking at the city. Security and transport for so many people can't be that quick to arrange. Even if I can't convince him to resume talks, maybe I can show him we're not all like Brauma." Farren murmurs in agreement. "You wanna come back with me to the precinct? Maybe write up more of your translations from the vic's journals?" He looks down, deliberately playing with a pepper shaker. "Cobbleskater was a bit peeved that you were hustled out before you'd finished writing up the 4 pages you were looking at." Farren lifts his gaze to side-eye her. "You know how he loves his processes and orderly paperwork." Elo gives a dry chuckle. "I guess I got… caught up… in the story. Forgot to take notes." She takes a swallow of her drink. "Sure. I'd rather be doing something productive than sitting around brooding." Farren flashes a grin that doesn't quite make it to his eyes. They finish their drinks and head back to the precinct.

[ramrodd]

Jesus' Empty Tomb? Just the Facts Please!

COMMENTARY:

The first account of the Resurrection of Jesus was written by Pilate and transmitted to Rome under the transit status of euangilion  before Pentecost. Tertullian cites Roman archives of Tiberius proposing to enroll Jesus in the Roman Pantheon based on an intelligence report from Judea. That intelligence report is reflected in what we now refer to as the Gospel of Peter which Peter refers to in Acts 15:7 to validate Paul's version of the Christian doctrine Peter related to Cornelius in Acts 10:34 - 43.

I can understand why you, as a antiwar draft dodger, might not be up to speed on military SOPs, but , as an Air Force Brat. it appears to be more politic than authentic ignorance.  

I ran through your course on Why Mark was Ignored last nitght. I am a process theology guru and my advice to you in that capacity is to drop the dialectical Marxism of your critical historic method and combine Mark 11 to 15:8 with John 11 - 19. and employ Hegel's critical literary method based on Hegel's Historic Gestalt and Dialectical Synthesis. The Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of Mark and the Gospel of John all begin at the moment Jesus pops up over the miltiary horizon of both Cornelius and Herod Antipas, The Harmonics of these accounts of basically the same moments in  the singular narrative of Jesus the LOGOS. Both Hegel and Heidegger see Jesus moving through time and space the same way. Everybody was trying to prove that Hegel's paradox was crap, but he and New both established the 5yh Law of Logic as the Point of Paradox in a chaotic system.

The Ten Events in your presentation is worth the price of admission many times over. THis will prove to be the great legacy of the Jesus Semonar. I've told President Putin through a commercial relationship I developed with the Kremlin during the Nixon and Carter administrations that he needs to expel anyone associated with Campus crusade for Christ as as agents of American moral confusion Russia doesn't need at the moment but that i would encourage the Russian Orthodox Church to invite both N.T. Wright and the Jesus seminar to conduct seminars for faithful Marxists like Him. Their faith  will be rewarded.

As will yours. The difference between you and me as refugees from the 60s, you followed your heart ias an anti-war/Civil Rights protester and I followed Yaweh, Queen of Battle to  Vietnam. A mother will follow her heart into a burning building to save her child, but a fire fight performs his duty to Yaweh, Queen of Battle. Yaweh, Queen of battle is the abiding spirit of the uterus, which is just one reason why Tommy Tuberville is the Poster Boy for the Ivy League Socialism of William F. Buckley and the John Birch society.

Here's the thing: you and N.T. Wright are crippling your scholarship on Paul by denying the harmonics of Hegel in favor of either the dialectical Idealism of Tom Wright's 60 experience or the contrarian concets of the dialectical Marxism of  Post Modern Historic Deconstruction.. This has been all the rage in the American university system since the SDS occupied Columbia University and turned Eisenhower's legacy on its head. Which has been the gift that keeps on giving to the white supremacist agenda of the John Birch Society and Tommy Tuberville. And Trump. These Ten Events are the Ten Commandments of Christian Stewardship and Servant Leadership.:\

Be Humble Be Decisive Be Disruptive' Be Discerning Be Grounded Be Focused Ge  Balanced be   Mindful Be Obedient Be Generous

It is useful to remember that Adam Smith's "Wealth of Nations" is an explication of the economics of Jesus, thanks to Hegel. Smith's "Invisible Hand" is a mechanism he invents to accomodate the dynamics of Free Markets.

The euangelion is Christian literature. The intelligence report Pilate sent to Tiberius conveyed the slang the Roman soldiers employed to designate Jesus Follower in Judea to Roman society is the original euangelion of Mark 1:1 and Acts 15:7 Mark15  is an edited version of Pilate's euangelion to Tiberius. Euangelion is the transit status of Pilate's intelligence report that Tertullian cites in Book V of his Apology, What Mark 1:1 means is that this is the Gestalt of the Sociology and Anthropology  surronding the narrative  thread of the LOGOS as He moved through history. Jesus is the Point of Paradox in the Harmonic of the Dasein of Jesus with the culture He moved through. He was the leading edge of the wave of the future when they nailed  Him to a cross and set the world of fire.

The leadership priorities of Cornelius, as the Archetype of the Roman military servant leader was the same as the leadership priorities of the Command Sergeant Major of the Arm, Mission:Men:Self. Cornelius was the personification of the Ten Commandments of the Christian Servant L Leader when he wrote The Gospel of Mark. He and his household had just been baptized by the Holy Spirit with the Spirity of the Lord just like Peter at Pentecost. The finger prints of the Holy Spirit are all over the Gospels and Acts, but, if you are using dialectical Marxism, your eyes will never see the Kingdom of Heaven right in front of you.

Without Hegel, your wonderful memories of  Israel would be meaningless to the Gospel of Mark.

[kiwikyuu]

ROOMMATE ! MATSUKAWA ISSEI

summary it was convenient timing that your friend knew someone who needed a roommate

word count need to add

genre headcanon ; fluff

warning(s) cursing, not edited

a/n if you say that you're not attracted to matsukawa issei, you're lying to yourself. that man is fine as hell! also note that resident assistant or ra is a college student who lives in the dorms and on each floor (for my uni at least) acts as an overseer and the person in between the administration and college students. also i am basing this off the american college system because that's what i know of so bear with me

you were in quite the predicament

as a broke college student, you were relying on your resident assistant interview for housing this year; but as it would seem, you did not pass, which meant that you were out of luck for housing

"gosh suga, what am i going to do?"

you sighed, head buried in your arms crossed atop the table the two of you were sat at in the library

sugawara stared worriedly at you as the gears in his mind ground for a solution, and then it dawned on him. like some higher being had handed him the answer, he saw the answer to your problems walk through the door

"mattsun!"

you lifted your head and caught sight of the tall boy leisurely walking over to sugawara with an air of confidence that he dragged along with every step towards you. his hands fit in the pockets of his black jeans, and the matching black hoodie he wore seemed to swallow him whole and only make him a grander presence than he already was

"what do you want?"

his voice was deep, and you wondered if he just woke up from a nap or if he always sounded like that

"i heard hanamaki bailed on you this year, so you're in search of a roommate."

sugawara didn't let matsukawa's pinched eyebrows and intimidatingly annoyed expression get to him

"yes."

your eyes widened, and before sugawara could offer you up for the open spot, you were already speaking up

"i think we'd be great roommates."

it was then that matsukawa noticed you, and he tilted his head at you as if he was thinking if he recognized you from anywhere. he didn't, but the uneasy hopeful smile that sugawara was sending him and your pleading eyes were just enough to break his resolve into saying —

"fine. what's your number? we can figure out the logistics later."

it was a whirlwind of change, introductions, and spending time with matsukawa as the two of you got to know each other through laying out all the details of your shared living situation

he even showed up to the dorms, sporting a muscle tee that left his muscled arms out for show to help you move your things out and into the apartment

and so it all began

awkward days turned into comfortable weeks and lighthearted months with him; mattsun was the ideal roommate, and he was as easy to live with as he was sweet

he left out flowers on the living room table because his mom always taught him that it was a presentable thing to do

a picture of his family was taped to his bedroom door underneath a tacky sign that read 'keep out if ur lame'

he wasn't much of a cook or someone who enjoyed cleaning, but he was there to fix things up when the lightbulb went out or help you if you spotted a tantalizing bug in the corner of your room

he was reliable, and you appreciated that

"you and mattsun have gotten mighty close."

the teasing tone in sugawara's voice didn't pass you unnoticed, and you rolled your eyes at the implication of his words

"we're just friends."

"i don't know. he doesn't look at me the way he looks at you."

you brushed off suga's words, but days later you couldn't help entertain the thought

when mattsun came back into the apartment with a smile on his face and dinner for two, it sent tingles down your back

or when you caught sight of him in the morning, bed-head on full blast and a sleepy expression across his face while he headed for the bathroom, you weren't sure why your heart warmed with affection

but you really knew you were down bad when mattsun drove you to campus, one hand on the wheel and the other tracing patterns and words into the palm of your hand — a silly little habit the two of you had developed somewhere along the way

you had undeniably fallen for your roommate, and gosh, you wished you hadn't but you couldn't deny that you loved this feeling — loved loving him

but you weren't alone in it. no, this wasn't some helpless one-sided and unrequited love because mattsun was just as enamored by you as you were by him

because when you parted for the night, he stayed awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as his heart hammered in his chest with thoughts of you

when you weren't looking, he stole glances of you, and he couldn't hold back the smile that came across him because everything about you made him happier

and he didn't even like the color yellow to begin with, but when the two of you were getting to know each other, you had gotten into this long explanation about the color yellow, and something about the way your eyes lit up talking about it made him realize that maybe he liked yellow after all

"can the two of you suck it up and get together already?"

sugawara said with a sigh as he sat between the two of you one lunch out together. across from him, makki held back a laugh at the sight of your flustered expression and mattsun's burning red ears

"suga's got a point there. the only two people who don't know you guys are dating are you two."

your eyes peeked curiously at mattsun as his inconspicuously flew away from you

"you know what, makki, i think we should leave these two love birds alone."

"i don't think you've ever said anything better than that."

and let's just say, after one awkward and embarrassing conversation filled with rushed confessions and wary glances at each other and maybe even a brief kiss later, the two of you weren't just roommates anymore

[writingandmore]

Hi!!! May I get a HP, Star Wars, Voltron, and Disney matchup?

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, muggleborn Ravenclaw (with Gryffindor tendencies), and my patronus spirit is Hummingbird. Biromantic Pansexual Genderfluid woman using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. Cherubic-like face, with short height (5'1") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has chic messy/wavy brunette medium hair that reaches to my shoulder, oriental skin, slightly upturned eyes, small lashes, chocolate brown irises, cute flat nose, heart shaped face, full cheeks, cupid's bow lips, a small beauty mark on the forehead, and naturally straight teeth with tiny gap in front (just imagine that it's a mixture of Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲---cause' my friend told me that I kinda look like them). My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam, I sometimes let my hair down or styled like Lara Croft reboot.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and timid at first making people thought I'm a demure, modest, and self-effacing that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind" (due to my protective mom, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis---like my happiness is too shallow, super talkative, eats a lot (yeah I can finish a huge slice of cake or a meal in one sitting), awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly gets bruises from hitting, bumping my head somewhere, walking into something on my way, and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself but can be awkward to strangers. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

The extent, I'm expressive, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations---I simply can't stop proving myself too much because I'm a survivor of bullying. But I still managed to be stronger than ever after I stumbled, even it's a slow burn process. I can be blunt, intimidating, harsh, and a douchebag if I receive ends or I got interrupted while doing something. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, forgetful, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic youth, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Rowdy and feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will make fun of your stupidity (in a good way) before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic and cheeky (makes banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment, but gets annoyed if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle and different way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, milk tea, singing at the karaoke, cartoons, iced coffee, memes, cute things, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, poetry, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes Catholic songs, kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, thunder and lightning, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. If I found out that someone hates or backstabbing or being rude to me, I won't hesitate to throw offensive criticisms, leaving them with a "I don't give a f" attitude. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity, worse scenarios in real life, and how terrible is my love life from unrequited feelings that I got, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family (it sucks that some people I knew assumed that the reason why I'm overly unaware that someone is interested in me in secret, is I have "high standards" looking for a partner, but the truth is I'm strict and I have a personal preferences...I know my worth and I don't want settle for less!) and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some, sounds too hypocritical, like as if you're a morally good person.

𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 + 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦

My love languages are quality time and gift giving, but I actually swoon over physical touch (especially cuddles and cute kisses) and words of affirmation when it comes to having a partner, though I get attracted so easily, matured but can be a goofy person who's nice, friendly, kind-hearted, loving, faithful, and excels in academics is my cup of tea. Whenever I have a real life crush (which is rare), I act the same but deep inside, my heart is about to explode and will eventually share to my trustful friends how I highly admire that person, however if they spilled the beans out, I'll obviously deny it and will cry if they like someone else, it will take some time for me to move on, now I don't care for them anymore.

Best Friends to Lovers is my ideal trope because I find it very cute since you already knew each other before dating (which happened to my 2nd cousin, she married her best friend!)---perfect balance for romance, laughters, comfort, and tears when it comes to sharing your vibes, being there through thick and thin, safe with embraces, and helping each other to grow.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗦

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, oratorical skills and I have potential in hosting...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, speaker, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader).

May sounds different but I'm passionate for helping people through my talents and sharing my story to inspire everyone. I may look selfish, but I have a different way on how I show that I actually care also I have a biased sentimental value

Currently a college freshman, learning how to cook. I have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

HP: Remus!

- Remus is also quiet and a bit reserved when he's not in a familiar situation, so your own first impression on him would be a good one, as you'd seem similar to his own personality. He's sweet and is able to start up a conversation if he notices the other person is having a hard time doing so, so hopefully he'd be able to bring out your more extroverted and friendly self after a while so he can be around the more open you. He wouldn't mind you being a bit awkward-he's very much the same way-honestly, the comradery that would come from that would be more positive than anything else. He loves sharing knowledge and learning about new things, so your eagerness to talk about what you know would work really well also! He does a lot better when he knows someone has his back too, so your extra supportive nature would endear him to you as well.

SW: Han!

- Your nicer and more helpful personality would balance out Han's more standoffish vibes when first meeting. You might get on his nerves a bit first, but you'd quickly grown on him and, in turn, make him a bit of a better person. Your ability to be blunt and a bit harsh would serve you well if you ever needed to stand your ground on an issue that two of you have, as he can be quite stubborn.

VLD: Lance!

- Lance can be a bit immature from time to time as well, especially when it comes to trying to be funny or cheering up those around him-he's also headstrong and typically firm in what he wants to do, so your own determined personality would attract him to you a lot as well. He often puts off things he needs to do if they make him anxious too, but if you both recognize that you share that problem, helping each other might be a good solution!

Disney: Flynn!

- Flynn is quite a sarcastic and teasing person, so your own humor would match well with his. He's also quite a hopeless romantic as well, even though he's certainly not one to admit that right off the bat. He enjoys singing, and as he gets closer to someone he feels more comfortable doing so in front of them, so a partner he's been with for a long time would get to see him be more and more open with it. That also applies to activities like dancing.

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Previous chapter || Read on A03 || tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 9

Hegal Place

Alexandria, VA

My footfalls echoed down the hallway as I approached the front door. With a firm push it swung open and I descended the short brick staircase to the sidewalk. I surveyed the familiar rowhomes across the street; small front yards bordered by thin wrought iron fences. A small child was being led by the hand down the steps of one brownstone. I waited for the kid and her mother to walk up the block then I chose the opposite direction. An older model Packard chugged down the otherwise quiet street, coughing an exhaust smoke signal as it passed. That driver should probably see his mechanic sooner rather than later.

As I walked I felt my holster sticking into my right ribs, suppose that’s what I get for hastily slipping it on. It was enough of an annoyance to force me to focus on the task at hand; finding Alex Krycek. The steady afternoon breeze brought in clouds but not enough to predict rain. I still had a few hours before sunset and wished for a drier evening than my previous outing. I sighed and hoped Scully found herself a cab.

A dog bark caught my attention and I saw an excited yellow Labrador happily wagging a tail at an average looking man. As I moved to get a better view I saw the dog connected to a leash being held by a young woman. The average man gave the dog a gentle pat on the head and must have felt my stare because he straightened up and let the woman and her furry companion pass by. I knew it was him by the way he watched the woman walk away. Krycek slipped his hands into his pockets and stood firm on the spot. I ran through a dozen different scenarios of how I would approach him; close-quarters-combat, a strong right hook, or a simple shot to the leg. I honestly didn’t want to draw too much attention. The challenge was having a conversation without sounding like two territorial alleycats. Right as I finished my thought, Krycek took off around the corner.

I swore to myself and tightly gripped the butt of my gun as I followed in pursuit. A footrace was certainly not where I wanted this to go. My lungs burned while my feet pounded against the sidewalk, a stern reminder that I needed to resume my visits to the campus track. There was a flash of a jacket down what I assumed was an alleyway. I slowed my pace and found a proper hold on my gun. I pressed against the brick wall, careful to hide my position until the right moment. Like so many times before I took a deep inhale and with the exhale I glanced around the corner. I ducked back to avoid Krycek’s fist, then I charged forward pushing him farther into the alley. He stumbled and tried a quick jab to my stomach. I tightened up right as he made contact and in return I let my gun give him a kiss on the cheek. Krycek doubled over and spat on the ground. With both hands I grabbed him by the shirt I tossed him against the wall, the tip of my Browning wedged into his abdomen.

“You know as well as I do that a bullet to the gut is a slow way to go,” I said with my left arm braced across his chest, “So you better talk.”

“Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” Krycek grumbled with a crimson smile. I quickly frisked him, found his Walther and relieved him of it. I pressed my weapon back into his stomach then said,

“A little birdie told me you were at Washington General earlier today.”

“Is that so?” he mumbled.

“Cut the shit, Krycek,” I responded, applying more pressure to his chest, inching my forearm closer to his throat. He choked out a laugh,

“The redhead! Ah Mulder you sure can pick ‘em.”

“Leave her out of this!” My gun pressed harder into the soft surface of his abdomen. I saw him wince and I twisted my hand hoping I found a nerve,

“Damnit,” he hissed, “I only gave her some friendly advice.”

“Stay away from her,” I growled. He shook his head disapprovingly with a limited range of movement.

“Oh now I get it. You’re sweet on her, aren’t you --ah! -- jesus!” His assumption was cut short thanks in part to my weapon stabbing him in between the ribs. I cocked my gun and felt my jaw clench as he struggled.

“Red got herself involved when she worked on that autopsy,” Krycek sputtered.

I eased up a bit, put the hammer back down but still held my aim.

“What do you mean? Who was the stiff?” I asked, uncertain if I was going to get a truthful answer. He swallowed and licked his lips.

“A nobody by all accounts.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” I shrugged and felt like this was starting to become a waste of my time.

“The body wasn’t disposed of properly. He never should have ended up at the hospital morgue.”

Finally, some clarity. It’s as though the sea of confusion was at low tide, revealing an answer like shells on the shore. I witnessed it myself that night at the Navy Yard. They thought the cabbie would just float downriver and disappear. Now they wanted to cover their tracks as soon as that body washed up near the marina. Scully was just doing her job in the wrong place at the wrong time. Scully. I had to get back to the precinct.

“Are we done, Mulder?” Krycek asked, breaking my concentration. My attention snapped back as he was fixing his shirt.

“Not quite,” I said as I tentatively put my gun back in the holster, “I want to know one other thing; tell me your connection to Spender.”

“Spender?” Krycek’s voice was now hampered with a slur, “God, I am so tired of hearing that name.”

“Talk.”

“It’s like I told you before,” he gestured, “Spender was a hophead. Got a taste of the stuff when he was investigating Vincenti. Do you remember that tip I sold you about four months ago? Turns out your partner wanted to have a private meeting with Vincenti’s second in command. Detective Spender dealt himself right into the drug game on the government’s dime.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Because,” Krycek coughed out, “Carlo Lodi told me.”

My mind worked like playing cards being shuffled, each revelation waterfalled onto another until the deck was stacked.

“You told Lodi to put the hit on Spender,” I said pointedly.

“I’m a snitch,” he stated a little too simply for my taste. “Frankly I had had enough of being the information errand boy, so I sold him out. Your partner thought he could muscle in on Vincenti’s pushers and try to expand the trade routes, so to speak. The elder Spender got wise and to keep things kosher with Vincenti and his boys, he ordered a hit.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say Spender’s father?”

“Who do you think helps keep the peace?” he replied rhetorically. I thought for a moment and chided myself for not seeing far enough up the ladder.

“Whose side are you on, Krycek?”

“My own,” he curtly answered, “I don’t care if the mob kills the whole lot of you.”

“As long as you get box seats to the show,” I said. He chuckled and spit a trail of red once again onto the pavement. There wasn’t much more I could add. No more interrogation to give. I returned his Walther and left the alley.

------

After a less than ideal cab ride, I arrived at the precinct and bypassed the front desk, heading straight for the stairwell. As I descended the steps I tried to think of how I would untangle this web I found myself in. I never fully trusted Krycek, apparently Spender did. The new information was swirling in my head and I needed to pin down the facts before I approached Skinner. But first I needed to talk to Frohike and the boys.

The door to their department was ajar, sending a quick surge of adrenaline to my chest. I pushed the door open further and entered the lab, relieved when I saw Langley flipping through a thick-bound book.

“You guys should really put a lock on that door,” I began, “never know what’ll wander in here.”

He chuckled and quipped that instead I should have a bell around my neck so they’d know when I was coming. I asked if Scully had arrived and he directed me around the corner where I practically bowled over Frohike, who clutched a blanket to his chest. I raised an eyebrow.

“I uh -- this was for our guest,” Frohike said softly. I reached over and he relinquished it, then I gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. Scully was curled into the threadbare sofa, she looked exhausted. It surprised me to see an actual piece of furniture in the lab, though I’m sure they needed something other than an army cot for those overnight cases. I unfolded the blanket and gently laid it over her sleeping frame. The sudden weight caused Scully to stir, eyelashes fluttered against the makeshift pillow of her hand. I crouched down and heard a hum escape her lips.

“Glad you made it,” she said with eyes still closed.

“True to my word,” I replied. She turned her head away from her hand and slowly blinked open her eyes.

“Did you find him?”

“I did. We had a friendly chat and a smoke.”

“What actually happened?” she asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“He took a swing at me and I shoved him into an alley; he won’t bother you again. As it turns out, my former informant has his finger in just about every dish on the crime buffet.” I tried to adjust the blanket which had slipped down her shoulder but her arm snaked out, fingers pressed tenderly against my forearm.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Rest for a little bit. I’ll be back,” I left her with a kiss on the forehead then went to round up the boys.

Langley passed by and I gestured for him and Frohike to join me, moving towards the exam tables on the opposite side of the lab. Byers suddenly emerged from the front door with a binder in hand and I waved him over as he muttered something about a body coming in for autopsy.

“Mulder you look like something’s on your mind,” Frohike said.

“Krycek was the one who confronted Scully at the hospital,” I relayed, “After twisting some truth out of him, he told me the body she did an autopsy on should never have been found. He can’t be trusted.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Langley, scratching at a blonde temple.

“I need to give a report to Skinner, he needs to know it was Krycek that put the hit out on Spender.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph it was all true,” Byers exclaimed as he folded his arms.

“We still need to find out who killed Lodi and his henchman,” I said, running a hand over my neck, “It had to come from whoever is at the top of the food chain.”

“Do you think Krycek could actually be pulling the strings? I mean he’s basically been lying to you from the start,” Frohike countered, pushing the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. I nearly laughed aloud but thought long and hard at the potential of Krycek being a crime boss. It would be a hell of a curve ball to try and take a swing at. Langley, Byers, and Frohike exchanged looks as I continued to ponder the question.

“No,” I said, “but I appreciate the creativity. He isn’t loyal to either the DCPD or Vincenti’s mafia family. The profile I’ve developed is that he’s a man who would just like to sit back and watch the city burn.”

The shrill sound of a telephone ring interrupted our conversation. It continued until Frohike broke away to answer it. I heard him agree with the party on the other line, then he shot a glance in my direction. He nodded then quickly hung up.

“The Captain must have a sixth sense or have a bug somewhere down here,” Frohike said as he walked back over.

“I certainly hope we’re not bugged,” Byers responded with a quick look up at the ceiling.

“He wants me upstairs?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Double time,” quipped Frohike. I rolled my shoulders and as I turned to leave I heard a new voice say,

“Leaving so soon.”

The boys seemed to scatter, save for Frohike who was glued to the spot when Scully stepped into the main area of the lab. Her stark white nurse uniform fit a little too perfectly amongst the shelves of science and macabre medical arts. She approached me and Frohike got the hint, trying to busy himself with tidying up the counter behind him.

“The boss is requesting my presence,” I told her, “And I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to him as well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, a look of concern in her eyes, “I could give a statement about what happened.”

“Sorry Scully, this invite is for a party of one.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Planned on it, unless they burn me at the stake.”

“So dramatic,” she shook her head and reached for my hand with slender fingers. With a quick squeeze she added, “As much as you hate to hear this, I’m involved now. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. Let me help where I can.”

I saw Byers timidly approach out of the corner of my eye.

“Excuse me Miss Scully,” he said with a kind wave, “there is a body due to arrive for an autopsy if you’d like to observe.”

“I’m sure we could use her assistance,” Frohike piped up, “that is, if she wouldn’t mind.”

I tried to think of a jab but she silenced me. She gave a pleasant smile in their direction then leaned a little closer, the faint scent of her perfume hit my senses.

“Go. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

I got caught in her blue eyes, only able to manage a simple nod of agreement. My hand slipped from hers and I left the quiet of the forensic lab, bracing myself for the roar of the bullpen and Captain Skinner.

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Winter Solstice Gift for vedrividia

Thank you @vedrividia​  for giving an amazing prompt to work with! ​

Read On AO3

*****

Let the right one in

Let the right one in,

let the old dreams die.

Let the wrong ones go,

They cannot do

what you want them to do.

–Morrissey, Let the right one Slip In.

There are three thousand rules that are part of his family tradition. His mother had liked to break them as often as possible.

That wasn’t the important part, though she had said it was the thrill of it that made her do it-- the important part was that it was a secret. Their secret, his and hers.

Lan Wangji’s family was important. It had survived for generations. It was large and prosperous; and it was all owed to the rules, that’s why it was important to uphold them. They showed the way of living a fulfilling life: marking a clear path for what is good, just, and true.

“Sometimes rules are meant to be broken,” she had told him with a wink when she had taken him past curfew to the city. It had really thrilled Wei Wuxian to learn of this, to be the only other person in the whole world who knew Lan Wangji’s secrets.

His mother had been punished for breaking them before he had been born, a long time ago, he had explained.

He remembers kind eyes smiling at him, a careful hand holding his,

“Can you keep a secret, A-Zhan?”

That’s how it usually went; they didn’t get to sneak in or break rules all the time, or his uncle would find out.

After she left, something in him had cracked; he knew he came back a different person. Uncle and brother wouldn’t talk about it, but it had made him into someone else, something else.

Lan Zhan could tell now that his mother hadn’t been perfect, that she had made mistakes, but being with her had been the one joyful part of his insipid life. When he was with her, the sky was bluer, the sun shone brighter, the world was a wonderful place they could explore at whim.

The bath water was scalding hot, making the whole bathroom stuffy and warm.

His mother had combed his hair, then did her make up. He had watched cartoons while she filled the tub.

Lan Quiren had managed to find the best specialists in the field, a parade of white coats to cure Lan Wangji. Therapies, procedures and colorful capsules to swallow by the hour—it had only managed to make it worse.

He had felt sleepy after dinner, he hadn’t eaten much, it was not even that late really and yet—

“Come, Lan Zhan, we are taking a bath...”

After several episodes, as his uncle liked to call them, which resulted in him passing out in the student’s hall, the school counselor advised him to return home. To return to familiar patterns. Lan Wangji could read between the lines: We don’t want you to be our problem anymore.

She had promised him that if she was ever to leave, she would take him with her. Even though it meant that he would never again be able to see Xichen or his uncle… It hadn’t mattered to Lan Zhan if it meant he could keep seeing the world as his mother painted it, blooming with light.

In the end, she broke her promise.

What his uncle and his brother don’t understand is that, when he breaks, when he collapses to the floor, the air in his lungs frozen, it is because that is the most acceptable outcome to the rage that seethes beneath the layers and layers of good conduct and three thousand rules made to be written over and over and over; of speech therapy and socialization his uncle had forced on him as a kid.

The fact is that Lan Zhan had seen what the world could look like when you were with the person you loved, with the person you trusted. The fact is that Uncle forbid both Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen to speak about her.

-- And his life had gone on like she had never existed.

His brother had asked him once if he remembered something from the day his mother died.

Lying is forbidden in his family, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he remembers too much.

She had left without him, and all the colors, the wonders, the joy, and brightness had left with her.

***

The incident makes it clear that living in the dorm rooms wasn’t such a good idea. But with the semester already started and at such short notice, what he could find instead, hadn't been exactly ideal. The building was a mere fifteen minutes’ walk from campus. Despite being close, it wasn’t in a good part of town; the area was made up of mostly students and families that couldn't afford the more residential areas.

Lan Xichen could sigh all that he wanted; Lan Wangji refused to back down on this. He could do it; he could live on his own.

***

It is supposed to be a mingle party for the freshmen. Lan Wangji wonders how people are supposed to hear each other through the noise, the music starts, and the bass is loud enough to make his skin itch. He tries to escape to another room, but they're all too full, the air too stale, and people are starting to look at him intently which means he's probably having another episode right now. He knows how he looks when they start-- he gets pale, his eyes bulge, his jaw clenches-- he has to find a dark room and soon. Suddenly there’s a hand on his back and someone is pushing him away from the living room, to the entrance hall. Lan Wangji would panic about the unwanted touch except he’s trying too hard to control his breathing and count backwards to even realize that the person is taking him through the parking lot and into the woods next to the university building.

His next breath dispels in a thin mist in front of him. The stranger guides him into a tree, boxes him in and whispers something to him; Lan Wangji of course can't hear over the static that are his thoughts right now. A hand guides his face up, deep black eyes are looking at him, pupils blown and glowing threateningly red. He feels his thoughts scatter at the intensity of that gaze; he feels his breath catch, then he hears the words as clear as a bell in the silence of the woods: "Breathe."

And Lan Wangji does. Once, twice; the stranger’s hand pressing to his chest--he feels the weight of it like a rock, somehow guiding him to clear his head. His vision clears as he keeps breathing, his mind returning to him bit by bit, until he can take in his surroundings, the quiet of the night in stark contrast to the sounds he hears himself making as he shivers and makes stuttering exhales. He feels his shoulders drop as he goes boneless into a crouch. Coming down from an episode can be as terrible as getting caught in one. He feels too exposed, and all he wishes he could do is curl in his bed and cover himself with his sheets.

How fitting that they meet that way, he and Wei Wuxian -- or Wei Ying, as Lan Wangji will get to know him later, the way things go in the end.

He wakes up propped up to the front door of his apartment, cold and sore from his uncomfortable position. The sun streaming through the window and filling the dingy hallway with light. He vaguely remembers strong arms helping him up, someone laughing as he was pressed to them, and he has no idea how he got from the party to his doorstep.

He goes inside and figures he will call Lan Xichen later. He gets himself in his bed and dreams of deep red eyes the color of a burning forest.

***

Lan Zhan is proud that he has managed to avoid his new neighbors so far by opting to study in the library, thus requiring him to leave his apartment early and arrive home late. But today has been different. He had woken up with a pressure in his chest that wouldn't go away, his hands numb at his sides, too cold to even hold the mug of tea he had served himself. His brain is screaming at him to go, his movements frantic because he's late for class, he's late to catch the shuttle, he's embarrassing himself, he needs to keep to his schedule and go through the motions or he will lose-- something. What he could lose is uncertain. Maybe it’s his sanity.

By the time his heart starts beating normally, and he can focus, the sun is setting through murky skies casting a soft glow over the snow settled on the ground and Lan Wangji notices his lack of fresh food too late; he braces himself to make a trip to the deli store a few blocks away. He’s double checking that he has all his essentials with him as he hears the door next to his open and close. Lan Wangji freezes on the threshold, as his door closes in front of him with a quiet click. He doesn’t dare to move, waiting, hoping that the neighbor is entering his own apartment--except that he isn't, he knows, because someone chuckles next to him. He takes a second too long to move. The stranger moves to the end of the hall where the stairs are, Lan Wangji felt for a second there like his neighbor was going to try to talk to him. He sighs, grateful for small mercies hearing the other man’s receding steps.

He hasn't even left the complex and he's already feeling tired to the bone, he forces himself to open the entrance door. The cold air hits him head on, making him curse for not planning  to buy some groceries while the sun was out. He clenches his teeth as he opens the door.

He starts to make his way down the street when a sudden burst of students rounds the corner, coming Lan Wangji's way, he freezes in his spot. His breathing stutters and picks up pace; he can hear them approaching, yelling to each other, laughing out loud and suddenly the cold air, the voices, and the streetlights feel too much, chafing with the quiet of his apartment. He's about to turn around and hurry back inside when he notices the students have stopped shouting and are backing down around the corner, hastily retreating to one of the walkways connecting to the street--he has a second to feel relief until he looks at his shadow, stark on the pavement, and then notices another, longer shadow a few feet away. He turns around quickly and has a second to feel lightheaded when he notices that it is the man that lives in the apartment next door. His neighbor also looks startled by his sudden movement as he takes a step back. There is a pause as they both stare at each other, until his neighbor gives him a shy smile.

"Sorry for startling you. I was just going that way," he says as he points towards where Lan Wangji is heading. "Erm, the lady in the lobby told me there was a convenience store nearby?" He angles himself to look across the street, giving Wangji the chance to admire his profile. Lan Wangji is assaulted with the feeling that he knows this man, that he has seen him somewhere, and is suddenly struck with a longing to learn where he could possibly know him. He's sure he has never seen him in the complex before; he would've remembered him.

"Anyways," the man continues after a beat, "I should get going." He nods and gives Lan Wangji another tight lipped smile.For some reason, Lan Wangji doesn't want him to leave yet. Something in the now empty street makes him shiver, when before it had been a respite.

"I can accompany you." Lan Wangji hears himself say, and he has the luck of seeing the stranger's eyes go from shock to a heartening warmth as he throws a real smile his way.

"Aiya, you're too kind. That would be wonderful!" he says as he steps towards Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji can only nod, his mouth going dry.

"My name is Wei Ying. I just got to this part of town," the man says nonchalantly, as they head to the deli. The stranger, no--Wei Ying--keeps a stream of conversation going despite Lan Wangji's silence. He doesn't mind; it helps to relax him and dulls the other sharp sounds of the street. Lan Wangji manages to relax when they reach the store, thinking the endeavor is almost over. He enters the deli and manages to find some vegetables and packets of ramen that would do for tonight’s dinner. When he turns around to wait for Wei Ying to pay, he realizes the man is outside, a bag already in his hands. Lan Wangji lets himself look at Wei Ying for a second and notices how still Wei Ying is, almost blending in with the falling snow and the people passing by. The stillness is broken as soon as Wei Ying catches Lan Wangji staring, turning and smiling at him again.

Lan Wangji walks outside, and Wei Ying walks over to join him.

"Time to head back?" he says to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji nods again; Wei ying just keeps smiling at him. The familiarity of the gesture shouldn't bother him that much, but it does.

Before Wangji notices, they're back inside the apartment complex, shaking the snow in the lobby and trying to avoid bringing too much inside with them. His movements feel clumsy and as he tries to reach for his boots and keep his groceries on the other hand, still tired from this morning. He feels himself losing balance--his vision goes blank for a second and when it clears, he feels a hand on his shoulder, his own holding on to the other man's, Wei ying's arm. You don’t like to be touched, a distant voice in his head reminds him. Except this feels different, soft and hesitant.

"Careful there." Wei Ying’s voice has suddenly dropped a whole octave, sounding incongruously hoarse.

Wangji wants to say he's fine, that he can manage by himself from here, but his words get stuck in his mouth, as he manages to shake his head. Wei Ying takes a step back, letting go of his shoulder. He remains in Lan Wangji’s space, he notices he's still clutching Wei Ying’s arm, he lets go as if scalded. He can feel the tip of his ears and cheeks burning; he hopes the frost of the night had kept his skin red so Wei Ying wouldn't notice.

"Well, I suppose I should head back first.” Wei Ying pauses to adjust his coat. “It was nice to have your company, neighbor," he says cheerfully. And he looks so young and beautiful this close, Lan Wangji can’t help but notice.

It is at this moment that Lan Wangji notices that he hasn't introduced himself to Wei Ying. It doesn’t matter, does it? The less we interact, the better, the same voice as before tells him in his mind; how inappropriate that he aches to keep the company of Wei ying for just another moment. "Lan Zhan," he says, shocked at how desperate he sounds, and also alarmed that his traitorous mind had chosen his given name, not the more formal one.

No way to take it back now; he would have felt mortified, except not even a beat later, Wei Ying says, “Lan Zhan," eyes glinting with glee.

Lan zhan has to take a gulp of air, completely enraptured by how right it had felt his name in Wei Ying's lips.

***

He keeps bumping into his neighbor throughout the season. Usually in winter his energy levels are low so he makes more use of the deli; it comes to the point where he starts waiting for the door next to his to open, for Wei Ying to poke his head out and ask him if he wouldn’t mind some company. Lan Wangji would mind, usually. But since it’s this time of the year and he’s still unfamiliar with the area, he agrees. Besides, he likes how Wei Ying’s monologues’ lull him into a trance; it’s almost like all the other noise and people around them disappear from Lan Wangji’s world. He welcomes the respite, especially since winter usually leaves him feeling bruised and exposed; he can’t stand many things when he gets like that. It seems Wei Ying is one of the few exceptions.

It’s his own fault when once again, the weekend is over and he hasn’t gone grocery shopping. He decides to head to the deli, Wei Ying in tow, when they’re stopped by police at the lobby.

“I’m sorry boys, but I’m afraid you’re gonna need to head back inside tonight,” The officer says.

Lan Wangji is particularly mute this evening so he's relieved that Wei Ying speaks up from behind him. “Why, did something happen, officer?”

The officer squints in Wei ying’s direction as he answers. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but there’s been a couple of disappearances on campus these past few months.”

Lan Wangji frowns as Wei Ying says, “Huh. But I thought they happened out of town? Has something else happened?”

The cop opens his mouth as if to speak but thinks better of it. He looks at Lan Wangji and then back to Wei ying. “You guys live here? This is a little bit far from campus, so if you need to go back to your dorms a patrol car can escort you…” he says and he starts to approach.

Lan Wangji gives a step back--his hand is suddenly caught by Wei Ying’s. “Don’t worry officer, we’re going back inside. Thank you for your time.” He pulls Lan Wangji back to the stairs and up to their floor. As they ascend, Lan Wangji remembers how his classmates mentioned something about people going missing a few weeks ago. He vaguely remembers something about two students who didn’t come back from their homes on the weekend; had it been last week? This month?

He remembers that he’s heading back to his apartment, but there isn’t really anything there to eat. He starts thinking whether he knows the numbers of any delivery service places nearby, or if delivery can even happen with the curfew in place-- when Wei Ying tells him as they reach their floor, “Wait here.”

Lan Wangji goes to unlock his door, ready to shed his stuffy clothes once he’s inside since he’s not leaving his apartment tonight.

He enters and starts the slow process of removing his coat, his gloves, and his oversized sweater. He’s sitting down on the bench placed in the small hallway that connects the entrance to the rest of his apartment when he notices Wei Ying in the doorway. He’s holding a bag from the deli, looking at Lan Wangji from across the threshold. In the light of his hallway, Lan Wangji notices how pale Wei Ying looks tonight. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it before, but something about the light coming from the single lightbulb illuminates the bruises under his eyes all too well, as well as the gauntness of his face.

Wei Ying is for once not speaking. He’s just standing there watching Lan Zhan.

“You can leave your things on that table if you want,” he says to Wei Ying, who is still motionless on his front step.

Wei Ying’s movements are suddenly unnerving as he turns to look at the dinghy table Wangji has pointed to; an eternity passes before he answers, “You need to invite me in.”

Lan Wangji is suddenly aware of his small studio apartment and how stark it looks, how quiet the hallway behind Wei Ying is, and how now that he thinks about it, he really doesn’t know the man standing on his doorstep. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that Wei Ying has never been inside his apartment.

“It’s alright, just take off your shoes. It’s clean.” Lan Wangji says as he stands up.

Wei Ying is still staring at him even as he relaxes his posture and smiles. “I’m sorry but you have to actually say the words, Lan Zhan, if it’s alright with you.”

Lan Wangji walks slowly towards Wei Ying, who still hasn’t moved from the doorway. He stops standing close enough to see Wei Ying’s cracked lips, his dark brown eyes gleaming. He stands there for a minute studying Wei Ying, “And what happens if I say no?”

Wei Ying’s smile does not reach his eyes this time. Something in it makes Lan Wangji want to step back, close the door and bolt it. He refrains from doing so, curious in spite of himself. Wei Ying shoves the bag he was carrying to Lan Wangji’s chest, making Lan Wangji falter backwards from the force of the push.

“Here. I didn’t like these candies so I figured I could share with Lan Zhan tonight!”

Lan Wangji looks inside the bag to see an assortment of lollipops and hard candies. Is this what Wei Ying had been buying all the times that they had gone to the store? He has the sudden realization that, except for that first time, he hasn’t seen Wei Ying enter the store when he accompanies him to the store.

“I’m sorry Lan Zhan, but maybe I can join you another time? I’m going to my place. See you next time!” Wei Ying doesn’t wait for an answer as he retreats. Lan Wangji, still frozen in place, hears the door to Wei Ying’s place open and close.

He closes his door and crosses the space to slump on his bed. He takes a few of the hard candies from Wei Ying’s bag. It’s not until much later as Lan Wangji is falling asleep, that he considers the uneasiness he had felt, he could swear he hadn’t seen Wei Ying blink in the few minutes they had been talking.

When he sleeps, Lan Wangji dreams of statues coming to life and singing him to sleep.

***

The snow is covering everything when Lan Wangji wakes up. He wonders if classes are going to be cancelled as he looks at the snow falling steadily outside. He should take advantage of the early day to finally stock up on something more than convenience store food, maybe return the books that are due for tomorrow, or even perhaps restart his workout morning routine. But he still feels stretched too thin.

It’s been ten days since curfew was instated; time seems to have passed slower since then. He could blame that fact on being unable to follow his schedule, but he knows the real reason. He hasn’t seen Wei Ying since that night.

It’s rare that he would grow so attached, but something in Wei Ying makes him feel perceived, like he could look at Lan Wangji and see through him and inside him. His brain has always been filled with static; the cadence of Wei Ying’s voice had managed to silence it. Wei Ying tends to easily avoid people too, which in turn makes Lan Wangji less likely to have to deal with other people. Even when there’s silence between them, he feels the companionable tranquility of being with someone who understands him.

What had happened that night was an exception, and though it had been frightening, Lan Wangji finds himself strangely curious to something he’s sure he shouldn’t have witnessed, but Wei Ying had tried to show him anyway.

He hears movement from time to time in the apartment next door, hears the door closing and opening, but he can’t bring himself to confront Wei Ying. Something had changed from that last time. Their friendship—if Wangji can call it that— a fragile new thing, and he feels as if he had treated it too roughly and something had come undone.

It’s a few nights later when something wakes Lan Wangji. It’s still dark outside, the streetlight coming through his window the only thing illuminating his room; he hears thumping from the side of his apartment connected to Wei Ying’s—and more concerning, someone crying. He doesn’t register moving, but in a flash he finds himself in front of Wei Ying’s door. He debates whether he should knock-- what if it was all just his imagination? Or a bad dream that had made him hallucinate the noise. As if on cue, he hears a distant sob coming from inside Wei Ying’s apartment. He steels himself and knocks, trying not to sound too frantic and failing. As he knocks, the sobs stop. With the eerie silence echoing in the hallway, he tells himself that he could always head back to his apartment, he could just go back inside and put on headphones and some classical music and forget about ever being outside Wei Ying’s door in his night clothes, palms clammy, his breath condensing in the cold air of the hallway.

He doesn’t hear footsteps, but the next moment he hears Wei Ying’s voice through his front door. “Go away, Lan Zhan,”

He sounds so distant and small; it makes something break inside Lan Wangji’s chest.

“Wei Ying, I heard…” But what can he say? ‘I heard you crying’ would sound disrespectful, he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, and he shouldn’t for that matter care what Wei Ying does in the night in his own space. “I wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

He hears a soft chuckle on the other side of the door.

“Can I come in? I would like to help, if possible.” He says reaching for the doorknob, he doesn’t try to turn it.

There is a pause. Wei Ying’s voice, when it comes, is flat and hard. “And what happens if I say no.” It takes a moment for Lan Wangji to realize his own words are being thrown at him.

He moves away from the door, cheeks flushed and fists clenched. He doesn’t know what to say to that. He goes back inside his own apartment.

***

Lan Wangji didn’t sleep well that night. When the alarm goes off the next day, he doesn’t deliberate too much on skipping classes. The semester is almost over, his projects have already been delivered and revised, he still feels the guilt of once again shrugging off his responsibilities.

And that’s how, as he lies motionless and heavy in his bed, he distinctly hears the crash coming from the apartment next door, accompanied by what could only be screaming. He once again finds himself in front of Wei Ying’s apartment door. This time he doesn’t think twice about pounding the door and shouting, “Wei Ying! Please open up!”

The sound of fighting only grows worse. He is trying to figure out if he has the time to call the cops, or if someone would have called them already, when he abruptly remembers that they’re the only tenants on this floor; the other two apartments have already been vacated, since most of the students in the building decided to head back home for the winter break.

“Wei Ying!” he shouts again. He can feel his heart start beating faster, his vision swimming with the black spots that warn him he’s about to have another episode, except this time he knows what to do with that urge. He throws his entire weight on the door; it doesn’t budge the first time, but he’s frantic and on the third time he hears a loud crack, just as pain starts flooding his senses from the shoulder with which he pushed the door.

The first thing he notices is that beyond the weak light that comes from the hall behind him, the apartment is pitch black. The second thing he notices is that the noises appear to come from the bathroom. The shouts had stopped, but he can still hear something gurgling and thrashing in there. The door to the bathroom is wide open; it only takes Lan Wangji a few steps to look inside.

“Wei Ying?” he calls, taking tentative steps towards the bathroom door. “Is that—” he almost slips on something wet on the hallway’s floor; he can’t tell what it is but it shines dark on the wooden floor. “I’m coming over,” he calls from the foyer, inching closer to the doorway.

“Lan Zhan, can you keep a secret?” He is five and his mother is the most beautiful person in the whole world.

The water is hot, too hot, as his mother brings him in with her, sinking into the bathtub.

“Just go to sleep, my love, it will all be over soon.”

He remembers waking up shivering, the sun already set, the light of the TV dancing in the dark of the hotel room. He remembers hearing pounding on the door and his uncle shouting his mother’s name. He tries to turn around and ask mother if they were leaving already— but all he sees are her closed eyes and her hands, limp in the water. The water itself is too dark and murky. He remembers his Sunday sweater being stained with dark splotches, his arms and legs feeling heavy. He remembers flinching when the door is broken into, his uncle being the first one to storm inside. He remembers closing his eyes as he wonders why his mom never took him away like she said.

He has seen blood before; the stark contrast to the white tiles is nothing new. He has seen it clinging to his clothes, to his shoes; he has seen it drained from another human form. What he’s not prepared to see is the pair of red eyes staring back at him from the darkened bathroom, hunched over what is unmistakably a body. Lan Wangji has a moment to wonder if this is what insanity feels like until suddenly time unfreezes and he sees, really sees, the figure still moving, blood staining a dark mouth.

He doesn’t register that he’s moving, but in a flash he’s outside, in the hallway, rounding right into his apartment.  He turns around to close the door, and in the last moment a hand darts between the door and the lock.  Lan Wangji hears the sickening crunch of something breaking as he continues to try to close the door; for an insane second, he feels sorry for hurting Wei Ying. His hand is holding the door open as Lan Wangji pushes with all his strength to close it all the way.

“Wait! Let me explain—” Wei Ying calls out from the other side of the door.

Lan Wangji feels himself hyperventilate. He can’t speak so he keeps on pushing.

“Please, Lan Zhan, just let me, you need to look at me so I can—” Wei Ying shoves the door open abruptly. It throws Lan Wangji back, he lands on his ass, sliding across the wooden floor of the hallway.

It’s already day and the pale light of the dawn is streaming in from the bedroom window, streaks of it almost reaching the hallway It’s enough for Lan Wangji to see Wei Ying flushed and covered in blood from head to toe, his hair dripping with it, dark and red and—

His mother is filling the bathtub. He remembers how excited he was to go on a secret trip, one that not even Lan Xichen gets to go to. He’s the only one who knows about the things his mother tells him and that makes him feel special in a way he has never felt before.

He is on his hands and knees when he opens his eyes, a puddle of his own bile on the floor in front of him.He can’t breathe. He hears the pounding of his pulse on his temples; Wei Ying is talking; he feels loathe to listen to him.

“Lan Zhan, I need you to look at me, to let me help you,” Wei Ying says in a litany of more senseless words. Wei ying is—he doesn’t know but he can’t concentrate on that right now. He looks down and realizes that the puddle he stepped on as he entered Wei Ying’s apartment had been blood, and he had trailed some in the rush to go back to his apartment. On the wood next to his hand, his shoe print is dark red. He feels his strength finally giving in as his vision fades to black.

He wakes up slowly, his head still swimming, his eyes puffy and throat parched. He is lying on his side, curled up, joints locked, and the sun has started to set. As he’s trying to stand up, he suddenly remembers what he had seen, and feels like keeling over again. He closes his eyes tighter, makes his hands into fists.

A voice from the doorway turns his blood cold.

“Lan Zhan, I think it’s time for you to invite me in.”

***

He’s too tired to have another episode, or he should be, but the way spots dance in his vision as he turns around and starts shuffling backwards tells him otherwise.

Lan Wangji looks at the man standing on the threshold. Wei Ying has a new pair of jeans and a black hoodie on; his hair is wet, a few strands clinging to his face and neck. His cheeks are flushed. He looks beautiful. Lan Wangji can’t stop thinking about that mouth, red with blood, and the glowing eyes that looked back at him from the dark.

Wei Ying leans against the doorjamb, looking at him through hooded eyes. He looks more relaxed than last time—though perhaps satiated would be a better word. As Lan Wangji looks down and tries to clear his throat, he can feel tears start to stream down his face.

Wei Ying crouches in Lan Wangji’s line of sight. “Look at me, sweetheart,” Wei Ying says, and even his voice sounds clearer than last time.

Something tells him it would be a bad idea to listen to that voice at this moment; Lan Wangji resolutely keeps staring at the floor as he tries to avoid passing out again.

Wei Ying sighs and sits down. “I'm really trying to make an effort here, you know?” He crosses his legs. Lan Wangji looks at him from the corner of his eye. Wei Ying’s flexing his injured hand, and Lan Wangji remembers the sickening crunch he had heard as the two of them had struggled with the door. In spite of himself, he turns to look. The middle finger is twisted at an unnatural angle, and as Wei Ying turns it, Lan Wangji can see a deep purple bruise across the back of his hand. Then Wei Ying flexes his hand and Lan Wangji watches the bruise fade, until the skin there is just a shade darker than the rest of Wei Ying’s hand. He gasps and Wei Ying’s gaze turns toward him.

“The perks far outweigh the downsides of this too,” he jokes. He proceeds to take his crooked finger and snap it back into position, emitting a crunching sound that makes Lan Wangji flinch.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, still avoiding looking at Wei Ying fully.

Wei Ying smiles and shrugs. “Not really. I mean, I’ve had worse.” His lips are red and plump and Lan Wangji can’t stop staring, cataloguing the differences between the creature before him and the man he had got to know and grow fond of.

Lan Wangji swallows. “What happens if I don’t—” He exhales, trying to form the words in his mind so they come out easier. “You said I had to say the words…”

To this Wei Ying goes still. Now that he knows what to look for, it is so easy to spot the switch: how his movements start looking aberrant; how he stops blinking, how his chest goes absolutely still. A flash, and Wei Ying is unfolding, standing up, still staring straight at Lan Wangji, who has stopped caring and is shamelessly staring back. Wei Ying removes his hoodie, showing a strip of his navel, the skin there as pale as everything else. He throws it aside, then squares his shoulders.

He gives a step towards Lan Wangji, then another; then he is inside Lan Wangji’s apartment at last, his posture unassuming and incongruous among the stark furniture in Lan Wangji’s room.

Lan Wangji stands up with difficulty, keeping his gaze locked with Wei Ying’s. He’s about to say something when Wei Ying gives another step, this time unsteady, and blinks a few times. That is when the blood starts to pour, first from his nose, then his hairline. Wei Ying blinks again and red streaks start to fall from his eyes.

Lan Wangji lunges for him, alarmed. “Wei Ying!”

Wei Ying’s white t-shirt is also stained with blood from what looks like different cuts that bloom in front of Lan Wangji’s sight. He takes him by the arms and Wei Ying holds on to him as well as he hunches over, clearly in pain. He opens his mouth and more blood starts pouring out.

“Please stop! You can come in, I consent to you coming in!” Lan Wangji holds onto Wei Ying as he collapses into a coughing fit. Lan Wangji goes with him, unable to let go.

It takes a few minutes for Wei ying to stop hacking. Lan Wangji notices the blood has also stopped pouring out. Wei Ying is still clinging to him as he examines him, the bruise from earlier has reappeared on Wei Ying’s hand. When his gaze travels to Wei Ying’s face, he is looking back at him intently. How could Lan Wangji not notice how otherworldly Wei Ying really looks, now that the pretense is gone, his posture resembling that of carved marble.

Another liquid smile parts Wei Ying’s lips. “Well, looks like I also made a mess of your place. Now I can see why you didn’t want me to come over.” Wei Ying has blood staining his teeth, his skin is starting to look paler with each minute that passes, and Lan Wangji can’t stop thinking that he looks devastatingly attractive even like this.

***

“Would you let me tell you a story?” Wei Ying asks him.

Both of them are lying on the floor. Lan Zhan is half sitting, supported by the wall, Wei ying next to him, close enough that their legs are touching. Lan Wangji is vaguely alarmed by the amount of blood that is rapidly drying on his floor, on his clothes; he feels numb and too tired to try to move, so he lets it go.

“The thing is, my memory was never good, even before… yeah, I really don’t remember a lot, but I don’t think that is such a bad thing., I’m pretty sure I’m better off not knowing the details.” Wei Ying slouches, bringing their bodies closer together Lan Wangji is surprised to find that Wei Ying feels warm.

Wei Ying talks about being a boy growing on the streets, about the family that took him in as one of his own. He talks about the brother and the sister that had made his days so bright he didn’t think he could’ve been happier.

Then, he talks about how the war had come and torn everything apart. How it forced men into becoming killers, and families into taking sides. His family was not the exception.

“You remind me of someone,” he says. By now it is well into the night, and the only source of light is the one coming from the streetlights through his window. If Lan Zhan doesn’t look too closely, the blood looks just like shadows scattered around his floor.

He hums in interest. They’re so close Lan Zhan could count Wei Ying’s eyelashes.

“I think he was a good man,” Wei Ying says. “He tried to help me.”

“Did he succeed?”

Wei Ying shakes his head, a strand of hair falling on his face. “I don’t think so, no. But,” he turns to look at Lan Zhan, “he had this quiet presence to him, just like you.” Wei Ying is beaming as he says this.

Lan Zhan’s speechless at such a soft look being directed at him. He reaches out and moves a strand of hair away from Wei Ying’s face; his hand lingers, cradling Wei ying’s cheek. Wei Ying takes his hand and brings it to his mouth, locking eyes with Lan Zhan as he deposits a kiss onto his open palm, light dancing in his eyes.

***

He thought that cleaning blood would be harder, but like everything, it’s just a matter of having the right items and being thorough.

Getting rid of a body is harder, apparently, though Wei Ying doesn’t let him help in that department, at least not this time.

***

After a while, Lan Zhan muses, people start looking alike‒their faces start blending into one another, they have the same stories, they live in the same boring towns, one after another; they have the same troubles, the same prejudices. And there are also the same creatures that wait in the dark for unsuspecting victims. Wei Ying always tries to go for the ones that will be forgotten, that can easily disappear. Sometimes they find monsters, but not the same type as him. But simple humans who have chosen to exercise malice, to abuse those that are weaker. Wei Ying likes to take his time with those.

Wei Ying is like nothing Lan Wangji has ever seen. There is no match for the strength and power he so casually displays. But most of all there is no match for the brightness of his soul, shining through, despite everything. Lan Zhan grows tired of towns, of the people in it, of the snow and the ocean; in time he will even forget to keep count of the nights spent in Wei Ying’s company, bright and eternal by his side.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, cor321!

For @cor321 Hiiii! I really hope you like this story, I tried to incorporate some tropes you mentioned. I enjoyed writing this for you :) Happy holidays!

Read On AO3

*****

Misery ²

The door opened, and in stumbled Alec Lightwood’s roommate, Magnus Bane, with his date– both giggling and cheeks pink, nuzzling each other’s noses, both smelling of alcohol.

From his desk on the far right side of the room, Alec looked up from the textbook he was reading.  He rolled his eyes and sighed.  What was this, the weekend?

No, it was only Wednesday, with classes tomorrow.

In fact, he was trying to read up for a quiz tomorrow.  Not to be subject to this racket…

No doubt they had just come from one of the bars on the edge of campus.  Maybe Magnus had even picked his date up tonight, as Alec didn’t recognize him.

It was an ongoing pattern with Magnus to hit up the bars nearby, and then either come back alone, slightly giggly from being buzzed, or with his latest hookup – as it was, Alec was starting to lose track of Magnus’s ever shifting schedule.  As a creature of habit, this made Alec’s head spin.

Magnus and his date finally walked into the room and came face to face with Alec.

And of course Magnus was dressed to the nines, even overly so, Alec noted, scrutinizing his outfit from head to toe.  Dark black hair done up in a quiff with dark red highlights, eyes lined with red and black liner, then clad in his form fitting maroon racer leather jacket, white tee, and slim black pants and low ankle boots.

Not to mention the number of silver necklaces adorning his neck and chest.

The longer Alec looked at him, he felt a slight tightness in his chest, a feeling that he wasn’t sure he was ready to reconcile within himself.

He turned away, feeling slightly flustered.

“Oh, you’re home,” Magnus said distractedly.

“Well, I’ve only been sitting here all night, and I was here when you first opened the door,” Alec stated dryly.  “And you only just noticed me over here, now? But, oh I see -- you were otherwise preoccupied…”  

He nodded at Magnus’s date, who now looked like he was attempting to shrink into the background.  He was clearly uncomfortable about the tension between the two roommates.

“By the way, he has a name. Elias,” Magnus stated.  “And he’s a great guy.”

“And…it’s also Wednesday night, and some of us still have classes the next morning,” Alec pointed out.

“Hey, Magnus,” Elias interjected, sounding incredibly uncomfortable, “Maybe he’s got a point. There are classes tomorrow still. How about we go out Friday night instead?”

Magnus whirled around to face his date.  “Wait, you’re leaving?” he huffed.

Elias gestured between them.  “There’s obviously something here that I shouldn’t get in the middle of.  It’s okay,” he said.

Magnus, however, had already turned back toward Alec, and the two roommates were glaring at one another like no one’s business.

“Uh, okay.  I’m leaving,” Elias said to no one as he quickly left.

The silence that followed his departure was jarring, and the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped to subzero with the way the roommates were locked in a glaring contest.  Neither looked away.

Then in the next minute, Alec just rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting back down, and trying again to concentrate on his books.

Magnus huffed in turn, as he went to his side of the room.  He opened up his mini-refrigerator, taking out a beer and taking a swig.

“Hey, shouldn’t you slow down?  You just got back from the bar, didn’t you?”  a snide voice said from the other side of the desk.

If Magnus’s eyes were laser guns, they would have burned a hole through the back of the desk.

Shut up, Magnus thought, crossly, as he tossed back the rest of the beer.

************

It was just Alec’s luck to end up having Magnus as his roommate in his junior year of college.  

Alec had initially planned to move into a double with his brother, Jace.  But then Jace had accepted an offer to another university at the last minute.

When Alec had found that out, he had groaned.

Now he was stuck with a double room, whereas he could have just applied for a single room to begin with!

The idea of having to share a room with a stranger was bad enough, especially with any habits they would bring about them.

Not that Alec was completely anal regarding his habits.

But he certainly had his share of bad experiences in the past.

Was it too much to ask to keep a room clean, no dishes in the sink, and everything in their rightful place?

Or having quiet hours when they should be quiet?

From past history, his roommates tended to fall short of these ideals within a short period of time, and it would always end up in a fight between them.

He was just not a roommate type of person.  Hell, he just wasn’t a people type of person.  He just preferred his own space above all else.

Alec didn’t think that was too much to ask.

As the time grew near, he eventually became more accepting of the idea of having a dormmate, as there was really nothing he could do about it.  So why fight it?

He even got to the point where he had nearly convinced himself that most people were reasonable and able to maintain mutual consideration and respect…

But that was before Magnus Bane, his would-be roommate, barged through the door, his luggage and belongings falling from his arms.  Walking in, he all but collapsed on the common area couch.

“Oh my god,” Magnus complained, bringing one hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion, ”That trek up  four flights of stairs was killer, why couldn’t they have given us an option to select ground floor?”  Then came a whole slew of moans and lamenting.

Alec just stared at this spectacle, his mouth dropping open, as his brain couldn’t even believe that anyone could be this dramatic.

He cleared his throat.  “Uh, where I’m from, most people would say hi to their new roommate and shake hands,” he offered in a sardonic tone of voice.

That made Magnus stop his dramatics, as he turned.

The surprise on his face made it clear that he definitely hadn’t noticed Alec until then.  

Alec wasn’t really surprised by that. Not many noticed him outright. There really wasn’t all that much to notice.  Anyway, it didn’t bother Alec too much, as he preferred not to be in the spotlight anyway.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Magnus said, suddenly affecting a dulcet tone of voice.  It was very musical, low, and sweet. As he looked directly at Alec, his brown eyes with glints of gold dilated as he surveyed Alec.  “I’m Magnus.  Magnus Bane.  I guess I’m your new roommate.”

His whole demeanor – along with his necklaces, crisp form-fitting leather jacket and black pants, and that silver earcuff on his left ear, not to mention his expertly lined black and silver eyelids – was enough to throw Alec off his regular standoffish-whatever type of attitude when acknowledging someone.

Alec, for once, was tongue-tied.  He didn’t know how to act…

“Ah, hello,” he managed, his throat dry.  What was this?  Why was his heart suddenly pounding?

He didn’t like this feeling at all.  But, actually, he had no idea what this feeling was.

Bottom line, he was uncomfortable.

He was … breathless, nervous.  He was…UGH.  HE DISLIKED THIS FEELING.

Yea, that must be it.  There was something off about this.

He decided, right then and there, that he did not like his new roommate for making him feel like this.

“I’m Alec.  Alec Lightwood,” he continued, finding it easier to find his voice, now that he had resolved his inner feelings in the meantime. “You have your space, and I have mine.  As long as we mind ourselves and give consideration to one another, things should be fine.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow upon receiving Alec’s words.  

Oh, is this how it is? he thought.  A smile crept across his face.

“So,” he said, using his lowest purr while looking at Alec under lowered lashes., “Alec, eh?  Is that short for Alexander?”

Wow, even just attempting this line on this guy was making him nauseous.  Funny, how he would be motivated to use this line on others.  But for some reason, he just felt like he wanted to annoy the shit out of this guy…

The guy’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by his response.

“Uh…” the guy said.  “Yea, actually it is.  But no one calls me that.  It’s just Alec…”

Magnus smirked.  “Alexander, it is,” he said flippantly.  Then bit back a grin as the guy scowled.

“Suit yourself,” Alec said curtly.  “It doesn’t matter to me.  Anyway, I already picked the right side, so the left side’s yours.”  He gestured briefly to the bed, desk and space to the left to him.  And with that, he retreated behind his desk, leaving Magnus just standing there, looking after him with his mouth falling half-open, and indignant.

The nerve!  Boy, that guy’s stiff as hell, he thought, starting to get annoyed.

As far as he was concerned, it was a waste of time to be uptight.  Wasn’t it much easier just to be more open and accepting about things?  Why so angry, dude?

He shook his head in disbelief.  But then he sighed.

This was his room assignment and roommate for this school year.  Unfortunately, there were no other rooms available.  He would just make do with this situation – at least until the next signup, which was in June.

He just prayed that it wouldn’t be too difficult living with Alec Lightwood.

His roommate continued to survey him, his eyes lingering upon his face which registered something akin to confusion – probably due to the duo-colored eyeliner he was wearing.  Then he shook his head, huffed, and turned to walk back into his space.

Magnus was left with mixed feelings, standing there.

Oh well, he thought, so much for the welcome brigade.  Great first day…

Such a shame, Magnus couldn’t help thinking as his thoughts went back to his roommate.  So stuck up.  But attractive.

Definitely attractive.  Such nice hazel eyes, thick dark hair, and great build. Truthfully, he was totally Magnus’s type.

It was just too bad that he was stuck-up and annoying.  And the way Alec had balked at his face, with his makeup and eyeliner, he probably also “didn’t approve of alternative lifestyles.”  But oh well, this was something Magnus was used to, ever since he himself had come out during middle school, and facing those with dissenting opinions.  Yea, they could all go to hell for all he cared.  He was proud of himself and his lifestyle; and determined to have a great year at school.

Neither a crappy person nor a bad situation could take that away from him…

******************

Months later…

Magnus hugged his books to his chest, as he climbed the stairs of his dorm building, huffing and puffing when he finally reached his floor.  Again he cursed inwardly at the three flights of stairs he had to climb, just to get to his room.

Then again, his brain suggested helpfully, you didn’t really need to wear your stiletto boots today, did you?  Just because that guy in lab was cute…

Oh be quiet, Magnus thought, wrinkling his nose.

As he approached his dorm room, another thought popped up in his head.

God, he hoped Alec wasn’t back yet.  Or, maybe he hoped that he was there?  Anyway, he was confused enough about him as it was.  Today had also been his long day, and he was exhausted.

He didn’t know if he had the strength within him to endure something unexpected…

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure Alec out….

And, usually, Magnus was pretty good at those things…

…………………..

Ever since that first day, it had been nothing but snarkiness from Alec.  Even when they were across the room from one another, somehow Magnus could still imagine the snideness being projected toward him by Alec.

Right against his back, like some stinging sixth sense, as if laser beams were shooting straight at him.

This animosity was getting ridiculous.

Magnus’s thoughts briefly went to the last guy he’d been seeing,  Elias, which was actually just under two month ago.

Unlike others, Elias had tolerated Alec being around, even with him being something awful.

After a while, Alec had even grunted a sullen “Hello” or even a small wave whenever Magnus had brought Elias  over to hang out.

That was uncharacteristically responsive for Alec, and Magnus was still weirded out by it.

Anyway, the thing with Elias had ended after maybe two weeks or so.

Since then, Magnus had not brought anyone back to the room.  He hadn’t wanted anyone else to encounter how weird Alec could get at times…

And could someone be more nitpicky about things?  For instance, he left one plate lying around in the sink one night a few weeks ago, and Alec had been ready to tear his head off.

Well, okay, he admitted, perhaps it was more than just one plate.

Maybe a few plates…and maybe even much more than that.

His mind went back to two days ago, when he had inadvertently hosted an impromptu dinner party for his three study buddies that he had brought over to go over notes for his History midterm.

Two of them, who had walked back with Magnus, had casually suggested getting carryout from the local Chinese restaurant since it was getting close to dinnertime.  That had seemed quite reasonable to Magnus.

And so they had.

The third guy, Marcus, who had come about an hour later, carrying two bottles of wine --- well Magnus hadn’t asked him to do so.

Before long, they were all eating, and studying, and having a light glass of wine – and it was actually kinda odd, but it was working.  They were actually getting some studying done, and yet somehow it had become very much a dinner party – in Magnus’s room.

Things were going great.

And then the key turned in the lock. Magnus froze, as his roommate, Alec, walked in.

The glare they all received from Alec, immediately as he walked in the door, was enough to freeze everything in the room.

Beside him, Magnus could feel the study group tense up.

Pretty much how everyone acted around Alec, when he was being Mr. Uptight.

Magnus felt a flare of irritation rise upon within him, as Alec cleared his throat in a very exaggerated way.  He tensed up even further as Alec’s eyes scanned the room.  He saw his gaze fall upon the plates and glasses strewn all over the coffee table.

Feeling an accusatory statement coming on, Magnus decided to beat him to the punch.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming back early from class,” Magnus offered as a way of apology.  “We would have gone elsewhere –”

But instead of accepting the apology, Alec’s face slowly turned red, as his mouth pressed into even firmer of a line.

“Oh?  And why is that?” Alec said, his voice tight. “Because you never think of asking me if you can have people over to our room?  Or that you never tell me about these things at all?”

Then his gaze seemed to freeze as he saw the books all over the couch next to them.  And his face suddenly paled.

“Uh, e-excuse me,” he stammered.  This was followed by an abrupt turn as he half-walked, half-stumbled to his side of the room.

Wait…

Magnus’s annoyance suddenly turned to confusion.  

Had he detected a note of embarrassment in his voice?

Hmm, that was new…

Oh, man, he soo didn’t want to get dragged into whatever Alec was going through right now…

“Uh, Magnus?” One of the guys, Marcus, was talking to  him.  He turned to him, albeit distracted.

“Yes?” he asked absentmindedly.

“You don’t look like you’re in the mindset to study right now.  We can take a break for a bit -- we’ve been at this for awhile now,” Marcus observed.  He nodded in the direction that Alec had stomped off to. “Don’t you think you should take care of that before it gets worse?”

The look on his face indicated that he already thought that it had…

“Hmm, maybe you’re right,” Magnus mused.  “Thanks, Marcus.” He smiled at him gratefully.

Taking a deep breath, Magnus made his way toward Alec’s side of the room.

He found Alec sitting on his bed, huddled in the corner with a book, which was completely obscuring his face.

Ah, he’s busy, probably best to leave him alone….

But something made him stay.

“Uh, Alexander?” he ventured hesitantly.

No response.  Ah well, Magnus thought.  Okay, play it that way, then…

He turned to leave.

“Uh, I didn’t realize you were studying,” a gruff voice emerged from behind the book.  “I didn’t mean to overreact.”

Magnus stopped where he stood and then slowly turned around.  Alec’s tone had been equally hesitant and unsure.

Now, how was he supposed to act?  Magnus ran his fingers through his hair, feeling slightly distressed.  He wasn’t used to feeling so off-balance.  He usually  prided himself in being able to take on any type of situation or confrontation.

And yet, now he was nearly speechless.

“Uh,” he said finally.  “That’s okay. I mean, things did get really disorganized.  Dinner was definitely not on the agenda when we first planned things.  And Marcus, he brought the wine over, not me…”

While Magnus was talking, Alec had emerged from behind the book, his hazel eyes intense and piercing, causing Magnus to nearly choke upon his words.

Oh my, he thought.  If he had thought that his roommate’s eyes were beautiful on that first day…well right now, that had been elevated to another level.

They were…incredible - the way they looked at him, searchingly, as if seeking something that had yet to be found.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Alec continued, his voice softening slightly, now with a nice gravelly texture to his baritone voice.  He seemed to avert his gaze for a moment, seemingly preoccupied.

Magnus resisted the shiver that nearly shot down his spine at the sound of the voice.

“That’s quite alright,” he said, managing to keep his voice even.   He took a deep breath.  “Not to worry though, we will clean up after we are done.”

Alec nodded.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.  He looked up just then and their gazes met.  Magnus inhaled sharply.  

There was an expression in Alec’s eyes that he wasn’t able to recognize.  Regardless, neither of them could look away.

For Magnus, funny things were starting to happen.  Like wind rushing past his ears, and his heart was suddenly pounding madly.

His throat was also, suddenly, incredibly dry.

He attempted to clear his throat.  “Well,” he said, putting on a smile in an effort to quell the tension that had seemingly appeared, “You’re welcome to come out and have some wine with us, as well as the rest of the food if you’d like.  There’s plenty.  I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet…”

Alec’s eyes appeared to widen at that.  “Oh,” he said.  “Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to impose…”

His eyes again seemed to search Magnus’s face intensely.  Magnus felt his cheeks turn pink upon his gaze.

“No, no trouble at all,” Magnus found himself saying.  “The guys are really cool too.  They won’t mind.  In fact, Marcus was the one who insisted I come in to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh really?” Alec said, surprised.  Something appeared to shift in his facial expression just then, and the beginnings of a smile started to appear.  “Well, that’s nice of him.  Tell him I appreciate it.”

Magnus attempted to keep his expression even, as his brain nearly imploded.

Wait, was Alec Lightwood, grumpy roommate Alec Lightwood, actually…smiling?

He didn’t even know if he remembered him ever smiling, not even on the first day that they met.  

And that was months ago…

“You can come out and tell him yourself.  Seriously, they’re cool,” Magnus insisted, suddenly making it his mission to bring Alec out of his shell.

Alec continued to look at him for another minute.

And then, he slowly nodded.

He got off the bed and stood in front of Magnus, shifting uncomfortably as he didn't seem certain on what to do next.

“C’mon,” Magnus said, in as gentle of a voice as he could muster amidst the awkwardness.  

He started to walk forward, turning back briefly to make sure Alec was following.

“Okay,” Alec said gruffly. He followed him out.

The chorus of “Hellos” directly toward Alec made Magnus smile.

………………….

Yea, that had been an interesting evening, Magnus mused as he paused right outside his own door.

And, a bit odd at the same time.  

That evening had turned out to be full of surprises.

He could have sworn that he caught Alec looking his way once or twice as the night progressed.  But then he would look away immediately with a flush upon his cheeks.  It had made Magnus a bit flustered, a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to having.

And especially not toward Alec Lightwood of all people…

Once the initial introductions had been made, everyone had settled back in their seats with their drinks.  Alec had then cracked a joke, which everyone laughed at.

Including himself, to his surprise.

And then Alec had proceeded to down a glass of white wine, his normally stoic, grouchy looking face softening into a smile with wonderful crinkles to the corner of his eyes.

The whole effect was simply magnetic, causing Magnus to nearly lose his breath as his heart stuttered. Again, he felt the stirrings that he had, upon that first day he had encountered Alec…

Oh god, what was happening to him?? Magnus thought.

Magnus had just stared at Alec in wonder, his mouth slightly agape. Who was this guy, again?  

One minute, Alec was practically lashing out at him over some preconceived notion of what was going on –and the next minute, he had comfortably settled in – a completely different person.

Well, at least it appeared so, in front of company…

……………….

Magnus came back to the present, continuing to stare at the door in front of him.

Where his enigma of a roommate was possibly on the other side.

Was Alec like Jekyll and Hyde, where one wouldn’t know which personality was going to emerge at any given moment?   Ugh, he wouldn’t want that type of situation...

Or even worse, was Alec the type who was absolutely amazing with everyone else, yet was still crappy when it was the two of them, alone –?

Magnus huffed, shaking his head, as he dug into his jacket pocket for his key.  

Alec was definitely beautiful but too much of a wild card for his taste.

Yea, the last thing he needed was to be anywhere alone with this guy, ever --

Not finding his key, Magnus juggled his books as he fished deeper into his pockets, which caused his books to tumble out of his grasp.  In an attempt to hold onto them, Magnus stumbled backward.

And then  -  he must have landed wrong upon his heel, because now he was on the way to the floor.

His books landed on the floor with a loud clatter, followed by him falling onto his butt.

“Damn!” Magnus cursed, his hand flying to his rear.  That was not a soft fall by any means.

Although, Magnus thought ruefully, it was more that his pride was wounded as opposed to any real pain.

He was just glad no one had seen this happen, or he would never live it down.

Just great, he thought, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  

Gingerly, he got up onto on one knee and proceeded to pick up his books.

What else could go wrong today?

“Hello?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.

Before Magnus could react or stand up, the door had opened ajar and a curious looking Alec Lightwood had poked his head out.  He looked left and right, before his eyes went downward.

And now he was looking at Magnus, crouched on the floor, his books partially in hand, looking up at him.

Oh god, of all the people to see him like this…

Alec’s eyes widened.  “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Did you trip and fall?  Well, no wonder, those boots look like an accident waiting to happen, with those heels. I mean, they look really nice and all, but functional they totally aren’t…”

Alec’s cheeks had gone full on red as he spoke.

Was Alec…babbling?  Magnus thought, confused.  And…did he just say my boots looked…nice?

He reached out a hand toward Magnus, who just stared dumbly at the hand.

“Here, I’m trying to help you up,” Alec said gently.

“Thanks,” Magnus mumbled.  “I did fall before.  Sorry I’m like this…”

Magnus grasped Alec’s hand, which was fleshy and warm as his fingers closed around his, and allowed him to pull him up.  He shifted his books in his arms so they were more orderly.

“Here, come inside and sit down,” Alec said. “I was just about to have some tea.  Would you like some?”

“S-Sure,” Magnus said, feeling his cheeks burn as he followed Alec into the room.  He was feeling very on edge, just like that other night – certainly not accustomed to this Alec Lightwood.

Someone who graciously helped him up after he had fallen…and who was now offering him tea?

As Magnus sat down on the couch, Alec excused himself to go get the tea.

Magnus set his books down, and suddenly he felt kinda weird, his hands flitting about. Finally, he settled for crossing his legs, and clasping his hands as he rested them on one knee.

Alec came back in the room just then, holding a very familiar mug by the handle.  That was Magnus’s favorite cup.

Magnus just stared at him.

Alec seemed to recoil slightly under Magnus’s scrutiny.

“Ah,” he said in a hesitant tone of voice, his eyes going to the cup, “Don’t you always use this mug? I just assumed it was your go-to mug.”

“Ah, yes, it is.  I just didn’t know you were aware of that,” Magnus said, surprised.

Alec handed the mug to Magnus, who took it in both hands.  

“Thank you,” Magnus said breathily, suddenly feeling shy.  He closed his eyes as he took in the aroma of the tea.  Peppermint.

Then he realized that Alec was watching him closely, the corner of his lips slightly upturned.

“It’s my favorite type of tea to have, especially after a long day,” he said.  “I even added a dollop of raw honey in yours, I’ve seen you use that from time to time in your drinks.  I hope you don’t mind.”

And now…Alec’s cheeks had turned a slight pink.

“No, t-that’s fine,” Magnus said quietly. “I love it.”  He sipped at the tea.  Delicious, and totally hitting the spot.

“Long day, eh?” Alec said in a sympathetic tone of voice.

Magnus snorted, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness he was feeling just a moment ago.  “You don’t know the half of it…”

And before he knew it, he was telling Alec about the crappy day he had had.  Minutes turned into a half-hour.  Then an hour.  Then two…

It was so surreal, how much they were getting along.

**************

Alec was having the most out of body experience he could ever recall having.  And he could barely breathe.

Here he was, sitting across from his roommate, whom he had been at odds with for months, and here they were having tea, with Magnus talking animatedly in that musical voice of his.  Which Alec could have listened to for hours on end.

Just as long as his gorgeous soft brown eyes, and warm smile were completely directed toward him as he threw his head back and laughed.

It was such a beautiful sight, he basked in it.

He no longer remembered why they were at odds with one another.  In fact, perhaps it wasn’t that they were at odds with one another  -- rather, it was more displaced, in terms of how he had reacted upon first seeing Magnus.

Magnus, who had completely upended Alec’s life in every way since he first stepped into the room.

Who had affected Alec like no other.

Alec hadn’t had much experience with these things –  let alone meeting anyone he was ever interested in – to really know what that feeling was.

In fact, it had taken him a few months to figure out exactly why Magnus had affected him so. He had found Magnus attractive from day one – but didn’t know how to admit it to himself.  So he had done the exact opposite thing that he should have done. He’d shut himself off from him, acted all distant, for fear that he would be read like an open book.

Then to see Magnus flirt with others, go out every night, and bring home different people every night – it had sent him into a tailspin.  He had not been prepared for that, and it had wrecked him in all ways imaginable.

Then that had, in turn, caused him to close himself off further – even as he went deeper into despair.  He hated the feeling.  Jealousy was such a useless emotion.  But yet it was there, wrapping its thorny vines around his heart, piercing different parts of his heart and psyche just that bit further with every different person that would pass through that door.

But by the time Alec decided that he wanted to try to turn things around, the animosity between them had already gone too far, and he couldn’t figure out a way around it.

Until that night, when he had mistakenly called out Magnus for throwing a get-together when it was just a study group.

Embarrassed at having made such a colossal error of judgment, he had fled to the security of his corner, determined never to show his face to Magnus again.  But, Magnus, to his credit – had extended an olive branch to him, even though he hadn’t deserved it.  

After that day, he had started to come to terms with his attraction and feelings for Magnus.

Which just seemed to be getting stronger, the more he was sitting here and talking to Magnus.  God was he beautiful.

Then his insecurities started getting hold of him.  What would Magnus ever see in someone like him?  There was nothing special about Alec.  He was the complete opposite of Magnus, who commanded a presence whenever he walked into a room.

It was something that Alec could never even begin to know about….

“Alexander?”  God, it was that voice again…

Then Alec blinked, as he realized he had zoned out slightly, as Magnus was trying to get his attention.

He gulped, his eyes meeting seemingly curious brown eyes.  Which were looking intensely at him.

Were there always gold glints in there?  Or was that a trick of the light?

It unnerved him.  He wasn’t used to having Magnus gaze upon him in that way.

….

Meanwhile, Magnus was definitely experiencing a moment here, upon seeing Alec with the most curious, doe-eyed look, his hazel eyes holding a hopeful yet apprehensive look.

Directed at him.

Magnus inhaled sharply.  Magnus knew that look, from his prior experience with dating and first-meets.

Alec liked him.

Well, at the very least, Alec was attracted to him. Magnus was surprised.   Up until now, he hadn’t picked up on it at all.

It was strangely comforting though, knowing that he wasn’t alone with his feelings….

Magnus laughed softly to himself, as he leaned forward in his seat.

This seemed to evoke a reaction in Alec, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him…

Magnus berated himself for being so uncertain about things.  In other situations, he would have already been tossing off flirty one-liners galore, making the object of his attention blush fiercely.

But Magnus already knew – that was different from anything he had ever experienced before.

And thus demanded a different approach.

Magnus hummed as he thought about it for a moment.

Oh to hell with it, he thought.  Totally going for broke.

After all, Magnus could have still read things wrong…and it wasn’t as if he was laying everything down on the line, like he had a huge crush or something.

And perhaps, that was what made his decision so easy in the end – that there wasn’t as much vested in this, just yet.

Still, though, his brain thought, rejection either way would still be less than desirable –

Magnus quickly pushed his pride and ego aside.  Time to focus on the task at hand, before he lost his nerve…

“So, maybe I’m being a bit presumptuous,” Magnus said finally.  “But I’m typically not one to mince words.  Am I wrong to think that there’s something here?”

With a flourish of his hand, he gestured between them both.

……………………

Alec swallowed hard as Magnus’s question registered in his head.

He could only gaze at Magnus’s face – it was beautiful, and everything he’d ever wanted.  And suddenly, there was only one answer he could really give.

The truth.

“No,” Alec said, choking slightly on his words.  “You aren’t wrong in thinking that.” He paused, trying to figure out how to frame his words best.  “I’m sorry I acted so horribly these past few months.  I was going through a lot.  I also never really dated before, or had someone I was interested in so quickly –”

Magnus held up a finger and Alec stopped talking.  “Well,” he said. “There is one thing I want to know from you.”

“Yes?” At that moment, Alec would have agreed to anything Magnus was asking…

“How do you feel about us being roommates? Does that make this whole situation awkward to you?” Magnus asked seriously.  “Because I understand if it does –”

Alec grimaced.  “True, this could have been a less awkward arrangement,” he admitted.  “But then again, perhaps this was probably for the best.”

At that, Magnus’s eyes lit up with interest.  “Oh, really?  How so?” he asked.

“Well,” Alec said, “I was supposed to dorm with my brother Jace, that’s why we signed up for a double.  But then he left me at the last minute to go to school with his girlfriend, so there was a vacancy available.  If I had no one else to room with, I would have probably applied for a single.”  He then looked directly at Magnus.  “This is going to be shocking, but I’m not really all that great with people,” he said to Magnus, with a straight face.

Immediately he saw Magnus’s eyes twinkle as he bit his lip.

“No, you don’t say,” Magnus said, shaking his head in denial, even as he attempted to keep from laughing.

“So,” Alec concluded, “If we hadn’t become roommates, who knows if I would have even met you.  I mean, look at you. And look at me.  You’re so outgoing and gorgeous, and I prefer to be alone with my books –”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Magnus breathed, his eyes flying wide open as he looked at Alec.

Alec shrugged, as a smile crept upon his face.

“Yea, I do,” he said.  “But you already knew that about yourself…”

Magnus appeared to ponder that statement for a moment, before a big smile appeared upon his face.

“Well, so I’ve been told,” he cracked, making Alec giggle.  

Then his face grew serious. “But actually, it sounds wonderful, coming from you.  Thank you,” he said softly.

Their gazes met and locked.

Feeling brave all of a sudden, Alec slowly reached over with his hand to entwine his fingers with Magnus’s.  Magnus’s eyes sparkled as he beamed at Alec, which made him feel warm all over.

They looked at one another, for what seemed like the longest time.

“What comes next?” Alec wondered..

Magnus hummed.  “How about a date?” he asked. “Would you go out on a date with me, Alexander Lightwood?”

Alec’s heart had never felt so full, ever…

“Yes,” he said.  “I would love to go out on a date with you, Magnus Bane.

Suddenly, Alec realized that Magnus had steadily moved closer to him in the past few minutes.

And now there was a devilish look in his soft brown eyes.  “Should we seal it with a kiss?” he asked softly, his voice nearly a purr.

It sent chills down Alec’s spine, he could barely think. And suddenly his palms were really sweaty.

”Uh, yea,” he gulped.  “T-That sounds like a good idea.  I- I actually never…”

Whatever he was going to say was lost as Magnus closed the distance between them, his soft lips pressing against his.  Alec’s heart started beating wildly with butterflies going crazy at the bottom of his gut. And then he felt his tongue gently sweep over the top of his lip, and it was the most incredible feeling ever.

Magnus moaned slightly as his hands moved to the nape of Alec’s neck, entangling his fingers through his thick hair.  That just felt so amazing, Alec moaned softly in return, as he did similarly with his lips and tongue.

When they disengaged from one another, both were breathing hard.

“Damn, that was awesome,” Alec breathed, laughing softly.  “I  hope that wasn’t too bad, on my part. I certainly don’t mind practicing more… especially if it’s with you.”

Magnus grinned widely.

“You weren’t too bad at all, pretty good, actually.  But you know what the perfect thing is about all of this?” he asked, as he leaned his forehead in toward Alec’s.

Alec looked at him inquisitively, with a smile on his face.

“Since we are roommates, we have all the time and opportunity to practice. I have so much yet to show you,” he whispered.

“I certainly like the sound of that,” Alec said shyly.

Magnus only laughed as he leaned in to kiss him again.

[svtxsoju]

00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!  ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!! 

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Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju! 

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course! 

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are. 

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes. 

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down. 

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.” 

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation. 

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.” 

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!” 

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.” 

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.” 

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe. 

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next. 

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!” 

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.  

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.” 

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute. 

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!” 

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air. 

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances.  “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?” 

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I  can do it, Jihoon?” 

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered. 

“You know what I mean!”  

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!” 

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ” 

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

 Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.” 

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?” 

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.” 

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.” 

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?” 

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her. 

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

 “It’s for my research!”

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

CMP Travel Program and Section of Invertebrate Paleontology Promotes the 125th Anniversary of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh with an outdoor walking tour

Before Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh (CMP) reopened to the public on June 28th, Barbara Tucker, Director of CMP’s Travel Program, talked with me about ways to reengage members and bring them back to the Oakland museums.

With knowledge about my research on the 125th Anniversary of the founding of the Carnegie Library, Barbara suggested a 90-minute outdoor walking tour around the exterior of the massive building.  Starting from where the oldest portion of the building (Portal Entry) meets the newest (Museum of Art) to the front of the historic library entrance, past the Diplodocus carnegii statue, to Forbes Avenue and the entrances of the music hall, natural history museum, and fine arts museum guarded by the statues of the noble quartet.

Fig. 1

The tour was advertised on the CMP website under the Travel Program link, https://carnegiemuseums.org/things-to-do/travel-with-us/ and https://carnegiemuseums.org/kollar/, and accurately described as an activity fully compliant with CDC protocols. Within a week, the tour received overwhelming signups, which were organized by date and number of participants by Travel Program assistant Isabel Romanowski. Three tour dates were set in August and several more in September. Special private tours for donors and others in the fall continue to be arranged.    

Andrew Carnegie, Founder:

As guide for an exercise that involves close observation of architectural details, I face the challenge of getting participants to imagine this section of Pittsburgh long before any of the structures around in Oakland existed. The library and museums cover five acres of flat bottom land formed by the pre-Ice Age Monongahela River more than 1.2 million years ago. In far more recent times, the land was part of the Mary Schenley Mount Airy tract of 300 acres which was donated to the City of Pittsburgh in 1889 to create Schenley Park in her honor. Andrew Carnegie, (1835 – 1919) industrialist, steel magnate, and philanthropist, in 1895 saw the site as a place to build a complex with a library, fine arts gallery, science museum, and music hall that would represent the noble quartet of literature, art, science, and music.

The Library Tour Themes:

Fig. 2

Tour groups assemble on the dark stone steps outside the Carnegie Museum of Art (CMOA) rear entrance for an introduction focusing on the two connected, but architecturally different buildings: the Beaux-Arts style Carnegie Complex, with the original structure dating to1895, and later addition to 1907, which was built by Longfellow, Alden, and Harlow using Carnegie Steel (Fig. 2), and the modern Carnegie Museum of Art, built by architect Edward Larrabee Barnes in 1974.

Two rock types distinguish the building exteriors. The older portions of the building are clad in a light grey, easily carved, 370 million-year-old Berea Sandstone from Amherst, Ohio, while the exterior and much of the interior of Museum of Art is covered in the 295 million-year-old bluish iridescence Larvikite igneous rock from Larvik, Norway. When Barnes was commissioned to build CMOA, he chose the dark rock to blend with the older building’s coal dust veneer, a grime coating that was removed when the exterior stone was cleaned in 1990.

Landscape Art and Geology:

Fig. 3

Pittsburgh’s landscape painter, John Kane’s (1860 – 1934), Cathedral of Learning, circa 1930 (Fig. 3), depicts the 150-foot-deep Junction Hollow with its operating railroad. The work also includes many important architectural references, the Schenley Park Bridge (1897), Carnegie Institute’s Bellefield Boiler Plant (designed by Alden and Harlow in 1907 to supply electricity and heat to adjacent buildings), the Carnegie Institute Extension (1907), and a then unfinished Cathedral of Learning. This painting is part of CMOA Fine Arts collections.

Fig. 4

Another John Kane landscape, Panther Hollow, circa 1930 – 1934, (Fig. 4A) in combination with Cathedral of Learning has been used in teaching about the 300 million-year-old geology of Schenley Park (Fig. 4B2) and the pre-Pleistocene Monongahela River that formed the flat bottom landscape of Oakland, and through erosion, Junction Hollow (Fig. 4B1).  Kollar and Brezinski 2010, Geology, Landscape, and John Kane’s Landscape Paintings.

Junction Hollow Landscape:

Kane’s Cathedral of Learning (1930) is an idealized green space of Junction Hollow, the Wilmot Street Bridge in the foreground (1907) now replaced with the Charles Anderson Bridge (1940), and Carnegie Tech’s (now Carnegie Mellon University’s) Hamerschlag Hall or Machinery Hall (1912), built by Henry Hornbostel, a Pittsburgh architect. Hornbostel designed a circular Roman temple wrapped about a tall yellow brick smokestack (Fig. 4A). The design is based on the Roman temple of Vesta in Tivoli, Italy, dating to the early 1st century BC. Hornbostel’s overall campus design focused on connection between art and science, with Junction Hollow representing the geological sciences. The architect Philip Johnston, who built Pittsburgh’s postmodern PPG Place (circa 1984), once contrasted the Bellefield Boiler Plant smokestack as “the ugliest in the world to Machinery Hall’s smokestack as the most beautiful.” In novelist Michael Chabon’s debut novel, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, (1988) the Bellefield Boiler Plant, termed “the cloud factory” by the narrator, is the setting for a pivotal scene.

Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh (Main):

Fig. 5

The separate institutions we now know as Carnegie Museum of Natural History and Carnegie Museum of Art can track their origins to exhibits and galleries within space now fully occupied by Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. An image of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh in 1902 from the Bellefield Bridge, a structure now buried under the Mary Schenley Memorial Fountain (1918), reveals eclecticism in architectural features (Fig. 5). The west facing frontage doorways and portico of the library features, CARNEGIE LIBRARY, FREE TO THE PEOPLE, and 24 carved writer names. Missing from the names is Carnegie’s favorite poet, Robert Burns, whose statue was dedicated in 1914 on the grounds of Phipps Conservancy. Three separate entrances are served by granite steps of Permian age from Vermont, one for the science museum, one for the Department of Fine Arts, and the third, with distinctive Romanesque round doorways, brass doors with intricate features, and keystone scrolling, for the Library. This entrance was designed by Harlow, who was the draftsman on the McKim, Mead, and White team responsible for the Beaux-Arts Boston Public Library (1895). When the Carnegie Institute Extension was constructed in 1907, the science museum and fine arts museum collections were moved into the new space. The former spaces in the library became the Children’s Room, Pennsylvania Room, and Music Library.

Fig. 6

Fig. 7

A challenge at this point in the tour involves discussing features that are not visible up close. The Longfellow, Alden, and Harlow’s Italian Renaissance and Beaux-Arts H-shaped parallelogram winning design featured a copula (Fig. 6) on top of the red tile roof that was never built.  Eclecticism features include a double apse, a smaller shaped semi-circular extension of the library’s wall on the southside of the building, and larger apse on the north or Forbes Avenue side of the building, with the semicircular Music Hall auditorium, designed by Longfellow. The music hall exterior was structurally changed by the 1907 construction (Fig. 7).  

The exterior Berea Sandstone reveals rustication masonry techniques with the cut blocks on the exterior first floor level distinguished by ashlar pillow horizontal border stone, and smooth masonry from the second floor to the cornice below the roof line.  The second floor late Gothic style windows are divided by a vertical element called a mullion that helps with rigid support of the window arch and divides the window panels. Two symmetrical Campanile towers that Carnegie called “those donkey ears” were modeled after the San Marco Bell Tower in Venice, Italy. The towers served as an architectural offset to the semicircular exterior walls of the music auditorium and were removed in 1902 for the construction of the Carnegie Institute Extension. The installation of the towers can be interpreted as a tribute to Henry Hobson Richardson’s Allegheny County Courthouse twin towers (1888).

Architects choice of light grey sandstone and red tile roof:

The library’s red tile roof incorporated multiple glass roofs over the library, fine arts galleries, and science museum (all shaded from exterior sunlight today) which typified the Beau-Arts style. Keep in mind, the library did not have electric light. Light was provided by gas lighting and natural sunlight.  Longfellow, Alden, and Harlow wrote that “the choice of a red tile roof and grey Ohio (Berea) Sandstone was intentional to contrast with Pittsburgh’s grey skies and the changing seasonal colors of the foliage in Schenley Park.”  

The Beaux-Arts Architecture of the Carnegie Institute Extension 1907:

Fig. 8

Fig. 9

After Longfellow returned to his Boston practice in 1896, Alden and Harlow received the commission to build the Carnegie Institute Extension (1907) (Fig. 8). Their efforts created one of the great Beaux-Arts building in the United States. As Cynthia Field, Smithsonian Architecture Historian, stated in 1985, “the building itself is the greatest object of the entire museum collection.” Formal recognition of the building’s architectural importance exists in two historic landmark plagues placed outside of the Carnegie Library entrance and the Museums’ Carriage Drive entrance (Fig. 9).

New exterior features of the 1907 extension work included the replacement of the red tile roof with copper, the addition of an armillary sphere,  the construction, with a colonnade of solid Corinthian fluted columns of Berea Sandstone, four portico porches over the main entrances to the library, music hall, natural history and art museum, and eastside of building (now removed), and the creation, along Forbes Avenue, of a main Carriage Drive entrance with direct access to the galleries. The carved names of authors, artists, musicians, and scientists in the buildings’ entablature, a Victorian era practice, extends around the building from the library’s southeast corner to the music hall entrance, and natural history and the fine arts entrances.

Also notable along Forbes Avenue are John Massey Rhind’s noble quartet statues that guard the Music Hall and Natural History and Art entrances. The four male figures all seated in classic Greek chairs are Michelangelo (art), Shakespeare (literature), Bach (music), and Galileo (science).  Standing three stories above the quartet on the edge of the roof, four groups of female allegorical figures represent literature, music, art, and science as well. The bronze figures were casted in Naples, Italy in 1907 (Fig 8).

Inside the 1907 Architecture and Building Stones:

The architects created 13 new interior spaces where three grand spaces stand out for specific architecture styles such as, the Beaux-Arts Grand Staircase (voted in 2018 as the 8th best museum staircase in the world), the Neoclassical Hall of Sculpture, and neo-Baroque Music Hall Foyer. The extension used 32 varieties of marbles and fossil limestones, many from antiquity, quarried and imported from Algeria, Croatia, France, Greece, Ireland, Italy, and the United States.  

Since 2004, the collaboration between the CMP Travel Program and the Section of Invertebrate Paleontology has been highly successful reaching out to our members and patrons. This summer’s tours generated some particularly appreciative comments:

The Carnegie's resident scientists are a defining characteristic of this noble institution. Might be an anachronism in an era when museums are focused on providing 'destination' entertainment and hosting special events for swells, but while treasures like Dr. Kollar are still on staff, it’s a splendid idea to facilitate interaction between them and museum visitors. Congratulations on a most enjoyable program. -Ron Sommer

Albert was very informative and interesting. I found it most valuable learning the history of the area. -Janet Seifert

I can't stress enough how unusual and interesting it was to have a geologist give us the tour. It had never occurred to me before that there's so much one can learn about building materials from a geologist. -Neepa Majumdar

Albert D. Kollar is Collection Manager and Carnegie’s Historian of the Carnegie’s Building Stones. Barbara Tucker is Director of Carnegie Travel Program.

[fictionalarsonist]

heartache — pt.2

pairing ›_yoonkook

content ›_angst ; fluff ; underage drinking ; mild language ; jealous!yoongi rating ›_pg word count ›_4.3k

―

premise ›_they’re two idiots in love still figuring things out.

a/n ›_this is an unplanned follow up to the heartache drabble, requested by taesboba and jazzy3120 at ao3. I hope they enjoy it as well as everyone else who reads. Feedback is always appreciated. edit ›_(Aug.2nd) had to change the title because part 3 was requested. 😂😂 the funny thing is, I wrote heartache as part of a drabble in which I compromised myself in not writing too much, but i'm always happy to take requests. credit › _thank you so much to @mindays​ for beta-reading and helping me out with this one for me. _😘💕

「 ao3 | masterlist 」

[ heartache | part 2 | epilogue ] 

The car stopped and Yoongi looked through the window, part of him expected to see Jungkook somewhere among the other students. He felt the driver’s eyes on him through the rearview mirror and forced himself to divert his attention, sliding his wallet out of his jacket’s pocket to pay the man.

“Look,” the man started, chewing his gum way too obnoxiously for Yoongi’s taste, “If you don’t have a dorm or anything and— y’know, need a place to stay...”

Yoongi saw him reaching inside over the panel and for a piece of paper and a pen, write something down and slide the paper in the folded bills before handing it to him.

“It’s cheap and somewhere— near ,” the man cracks a contained laughter that shakes his shoulders a little, “I guess we could say that?” His laughter dies when Yoongi doesn’t seem to respond to his antics, “Just try giving a call, okay? Have fun in college, kid.”

Yoongi pocketed the money and stepped out of the car, glad that he could breath fresh, untainted air yet again. Yoongi swung his backpack on his shoulder, the old thing could fall apart any day, but he’s oddly attached to it. He shifted the gym bag he’s been carrying from one hand to another after shoving the money in his pocket and leaving his hand tucked in there as he took a quick look around.

Yoongi isn’t exactly what one would call a very good navigator, but he could remember by heart the address Jungkook gave to him. He walked straight along the park until the second intersection, then he crossed the street. Yoongi can’t help but to notice how these traditional colleges have the same type of environment and architecture, but the locations are always random or so it seems.

One could never know where everything is supposed to be. Yoongi recalls how long it took him and Hoseok to figure out the different paths and shortcuts to go from one place to another. Jungkook, being the ever infamous golden boy that he is, always figures things out as if it was nothing to others. Hoseok told him about it, Hoseok would always update him on anything Jungkook related— Not that Yoongi ever asked him too. But, he couldn’t just— Simply ignore it and not listen to it. He just pretended he didn’t.

Then again, of course, this was before that day. Before Yoongi saw the mess that he created. That late afternoon when he cornered Hoseok and made him trace Jungkook’s phone location, grabbed his friend’s car keys and rushed to the place he still knows by heart because that's where Jungkook would always oh-so-coincidentally bump into him with his friends and his girlfriend. Saying he felt like a piece of trash seeing Jungkook wasted like that is an understatement.

It took so much of Yoongi to keep himself together and try helping Jungkook at that moment when he himself was a turmoil inside, not knowing how to feel or how to act. The only thing he knew was that that scene right there was dangerous and he knew Jungkook’s story with alcohol so it made it all worse— All the more scary and Yoongi just couldn’t stop blaming himself.

Not when he arrived nor when he managed to get Jungkook to throw up all that was inside of him and sober a little. Not when he had Jungkook in his arms and felt so powerless because even though he was there he kept pushing Yoongi away and this could be too late for them.

It was hard, stumbling on his thoughts and uncertainties in front of Jungkook sitting across from him in that truck. The way Jungkook looked at him, utterly vulnerable, physically sick, and emotionally hurt when Yoongi— very inappropriately, mind you—  gathered whatever courage he could to finally spell it out his confession.

It could be called a miracle that things turned out good considering how much of a neglecting asshole he was for so long. Now, he’s doing again, dragging himself halfway across the country to meet that annoying brat that is his boyfriend. Six months is too long, Skype calls, phone calls, texts. Nothing’s anywhere near being good enough when Yoongi thinks of just how they were together almost the entire time over their summer break. Even so, it wasn’t enough.

Yoongi’s not quite sure what he expected, but Jungkook is nothing he could imagine and the thrill of a new relationship still burns between them very frustratingly with the many miles that keeps them apart. It’s almost consequential that one of them decided to reach out first and see the other, and since Jungkook’s still going over his finals Yoongi decided to arrange his final project’s schedule around it.

A quick look around told Yoongi he’s close enough. He could see the statue, ‘The Patron’ as Jungkook told him it’s called. And as Jungkook said, it’s decorated with some weird accessories provided by some students that were starting to celebrate the end of another semester, or, in other cases, the end of their major. Yoongi recognizes Jungkook’s contribution to the mess, he’s seen before in the picture Jungkook sent him to let him know what the statue looks like on the ‘How to get to my dorm’ file.

It’s quite unbelievable how the dean doesn’t even try to stop this anymore. His college, on the other hand, would have the staff throwing a fit just for the sombrero on the statue’s head. Jungkoook’s contribution is a copy of Yoongi’s tattoo, painted in white on the dark green statue, at the same place Yoongi has it. A little too detailed, Yoongi thinks, and way too unnecessary as he said before, but professing that to the bratty Jungkook only earned him an amused chuckle and a very teasing-toned reply.

“Oh! C’mon, hyung!” Jungkook started all by himself, knowing his teasing would always stir a nerve in Yoongi, “It’s the end of my second semester. My first year, my first collaboration on the project! I was told to contribute with something that means something important to me.”

“My tattoo?” Yoongi replied, refusing to acknowledge how affected he was by the way Jungkook smiled at him with a purpose and Yoongi liked even less that Jungkook quickly shifted into his mocking demeanor.

“Well, it’s not like I could draw you there. I couldn’t pin you there either,” though, despite his worlds, Jungkook seems to be putting some thought into it.

“Whatever you’re thinking of — Just don’t!” He tried to cut  Jungkook off when the other half-smiled to himself and shifted in bed to lay down.

“I swear, hyung. I’d be a waste, if I could bring you all the way here, I’d pin you right on this bed.” Jungkook provoked, placing his laptop beside him instead. “Do you have any idea of how much I miss you right now? — ”

Yoongi doesn’t really want to think of how Jungkook’s voice sounded so purposefully provocative and instantly made him weak. It’s just embarrassing how things turned out to be. Not that Yoongi doesn’t like it, but he prefers not to think about the way goosebumps runs over his skin and he’s always so responsive to Jungkook.

Jungkook, on the other hand, has been enjoying himself all too much, pushing some limits here and there and seeing Yoongi just allowing him with nothing but meaningless protests. Yoongi’s been quite pathetic, while Jungkook has been enjoying having this effect on his hyung a little bit too much for Yoongi’s liking. Jungkook isn’t Yoongi’s first relationship, but with him everything’s so much more than Yoongi ever had. 

The statue certainly means he’s going the right way and Yoongi decides not to let his mind wander too much or he might get lost which isn't the ideal at the moment. So, from the statue he should take the second left. Jungkook said he’d be in class and would meet him at the apartment, his roommate moved out— Seokjin, or Jin-hyung as Jungkook likes to call him, Yoongi remembers well because Jungkook couldn’t stop singing praises about the guy that Yoongi saw plenty of times on Jungkook’s social media.

It doesn’t quite surprise Yoongi that he recognizes Seokjin when he looks over and he definitely doesn’t need a second glance to clearly see Jungkook beside him. Yoongi pauses his steps as he stops and stands there, furrowing his brows. His watch tells him he’s not late or early, actually, he’s right on time. Jungkook had told him he’d be in class for two and a half hours, so why is he in the middle of the campus, talking to his ex-roommate? Without as much as a second thought Yoongi finds his feet taking him their way.

“You’ll be okay without me around, right?” Jin asks.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, hyung.” Jungkook smiles with a shrug.

Jin takes a once-over at Jungkook and his eyes stop at the messy hair falling over the younger’s eyes.

“You really should cut your hair,” Jin says introspectively, reaching out to try and arrange the loose strands, running his hand through Jungkook’s hair.

“Alright! Geez!” Jungkook starts complaining, pulling back from Jin’s obsessive mania of getting everything into place. “I will, hyung! When the finals are over-,” Jungkook tries to lean back to escape from Jin’s obsessive behavior of always fixing everything.

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook’s heels scrape the gravaled ground as he turns to Yoongi walking up to him with purpose. Jungkook’s first reaction would be greeting Yoongi as he meant to do since they parted ways, but something tells him that there doesn't seem to be a space for that at the moment. Whatever Jungkook says is lost in the wind while Yoongi locks eyes with Jin as he coolly retracts his hand from Jungkook’s hair. Seemingly unfazed by Yoongi’s hard, threatening stare.

“I thought you’d be in class,” Yoongi speaks up, his eyes taking their time to look away from the calm and collected Jin in front of him to Jungkook.

“I should , but the professor didn’t show up,” Jungkook says, “I was about to go home and wait for you when I met Jin-hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes quickly land on Jin again, clearly displeased to see that he’s still there. Jungkook’s eyes find Yoongi’s backpack hanging from his fingers and he tries to take it from him, though Yoongi’s fingers have a firm grip on it.

“Just give it, hyung,” Jungkook insists.

“You already have enough on you,” Yoongi contests, resisting even though Jungkook doesn’t let go, nodding at Jungkook’s own backpack and the books under his arm.

“I’m alright, hyung.” Jungkook assures him in a half-annoyed tone, his fingers forcing Yoongi’s to let him take it.

Yoongi sighs and Jungkook knows he’s embarrassed with this, it’s been a pleasure apart from everything else to know this other side of Yoongi. It’s been all the more fun to explore this side of Yoongi too, but Jungkook knows now’s not the moment to push it further. Not with the way Yoongi looked at Jin just a moment before.

Jungkook’s eyes snap at Jin for a moment. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.” Jungkook says with one of his mischievous smiles he knows Yoongi’s always suspicious about and he gave his boyfriend plenty of reasons to be suspicious of, although not enough— or so Jungkook thinks.

“Hyung,” Jin’s attention never left them but his eyes had been softly watching Yoongi with something rather unreadable in them, they slide over to Jungkook, “This is Min Yoongi-hyung—”

“Ah!” Jin extends his hand, “Of course.”

Jungkook turns to Yoongi next and manners his hand to Jin, “I told you about Jin-hyung before, right?”

“Yeah, you did,” Yoongi speaks up loosely.

Against his own will Yoongi pulls out his hand from his pocket and takes Jin’s hand firmly in his locking eyes with the guy. Yoongi doesn’t want to let his mind go over unnecessary things, but he didn’t like how Jin’s taller and perfectly put together self is presented to him. But, the real reason as to why Yoongi gets put-off by Jin is that arrogant smile flashing towards him as if Jin knows something Yoongi doesn’t.

“It’s good finally meeting you,” Jin says with a casual politeness that is an obvious characteristic of him, even not knowing him Yoongi could see it. “You know,” Jin smiles pleasantly, but it just makes it harder for Yoongi to not dislike the guy, “Jungkook’s always talking about you.”

“I’m sure he’d do that. I’m his boyfriend.”

Yoongi finds himself saying, squeezing Jin’s hands in his and pulling back harshly. Jin raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a clear contradicted expression at first that only lasts for a second before he portraits his signature polite smile.

“Well, I’m just his roommate— Well, I mean ex -roommate, right?” Jin lets out what Yoongi clearly sees as a posed smile, a posed chuckle that he has no doubt others can easily fall for. Not him. “I was kicked out.”

“I didn’t kick you out, hyung!” Jungkook protests.

“Oh, c’mon, Kookie!” Jin seems to genuinely enjoy calling Jungkook that nickname, Yoongi, on the other hand, isclose to having enough of it. “I got pretty sick and tired of you complaining about how our living arrangements wouldn’t allow your boyfriend to come over and stay with you. It was too clear for me to not take the hint, it just worries me about the rent, though.”

“Don’t worry, hyung. I got it.” Jungkook reassures him.

“Well, if you say so—” Jin shrugs dismissively, “Let me know if something comes up. I can always move back in.”

If only looks could kill, Jin would be a dead man long before he could finish saying that with that ridiculous, arrogant, posed smile that’s started to rub off on Yoongi in the wrong way everytime Jin does it.

[ ⁕⁕⁕ ]

“Hyung?” Jungkook calls out for the nth time as they walk to Jungkook’s place. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” Jungkook insists on despite knowing it might not be the best idea, “Hyung! Yoongi-hyung!”

“I’m just fucking tired, okay?” Yoongi speaks between his teeth and Jungkook sighs as the elevator doors open and they step in.

Yoongi turns to look at Jungkook, examining him.

“What~?” Jungkook asks, half-irritated now.

“What’s the problem with your hair?”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks up, not being able to reach up to check it since his hands are busy.

“That guy was running his hands in your hair when I saw you. What’s wrong with it?” Yoongi asks with even less patience and Jungkook chuckles looking back at him.

“Ah, that. Jin’s kind of obsessed with everything being clean and right… I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, “He keeps nagging at me.”

“You don’t wash your hair?”

“Wha- No! Hyung, no!” Jungkook laughs, “It’s just that— I should’ve got a new cut, but I can’t find the time to do it, since there’s still some finals to go through and some stupid project I have to finish. I just haven’t had time to go to a barber since he moved out.”

“I think it’s just fine like this,” Yoongi speaks up, “Just cut the ends, I think. So it won’t fall over your eyes.”

He’s not used to this yet. Especially since he knows the provocative smile Jungkook’s wearing right now.

“Thank you, hyung. Actually, I was thinking... I was thinking of just cutting a little just so the hair won’t fall on my face, but I’ll keep the long bangs.”

Yoongi sees Jungkook moving closer to him, he looks over only to find his boyfriend’s face just a breath away from the distance of him. Yoongi turns to look at the closed doors again and feels Jungkook’s breathy chuckle on his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Yoongi can pretty much feel the blood running to the surface.

Jungkook’s always a brat, always finding a way to get to him, the problem is Yoongi finds himself being pretty vulnerable to it.

“But, hyung~,” Jungkook breaths on his skin and Yoongi gulps down the tension building up on his muscles, “That’s only if you’d think I look hot like that. If you really like it, you know?”

Yoongi feels thankful when the doors slide open and he clears his throat. He’d move his feet to bolt out of the elevator first if his feet didn’t seem to be glued down at the moment. He watches Jungkook, with that stupid smug face of his, walk out first.

As Yoongi follows Jungkook down the hall he tries not to think about it, he really tries not to, but he can’t help it. Jin sets him off, he just knew it’d be like that, he didn’t like the way Jungkook kept singing nothing but praises about the guy. How intelligent, eloquent, caring, or whatever this Jin guy is, how they went out and this and that happened, how Jin knows almost everyone who’s someone around the campus.

Yoongi can’t stop thinking how many times Jin walked down this hall together with Jungkook and this is so fucking silly, but Yoongi can’t get out of his mind how freely Jin acted around Jungkook. This was nothing like someone who sees the other as just a friend and Yoongi’s not sure if Jungkook’s oblivious enough not to see it or if he’s pretending not to. Either way, it doesn't help the case.

Yoongi closes the door behind him and gives a quick look at the apartment’s living room. Everything’s organized and clean, something he knows Jungkook isn’t that good at.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his eyes trained on Yoongi.

“Was it you or your ex- roommate who cleaned the place?” Yoongi wishes he didn’t say it like that, but the words just rolled out of his lips.

“Hyung-” 

Yoongi finds it odd how close Jungkook’s voice sounds, so he looks up only to be caged in by Jungkook’s body and the wall behind him. He didn’t even have the time to take off his shoes.

“Are you jealous, hyung?” Jungkook provokes, stepping closer to Yoongi now pressed with his back flat against the wall. Jungkook had that stupid smug grin pulling the corners of his lips, “Are you thinking of Jin being here with me, is that it?”

Yoongi moves his head and Jungkook presses his hand on the wall next to Yoongi’s head, grinning when their lips brush much to Yoongi’s dismay. Jungkook humms, low and provoking and Yoongi swallows around nothing, taking a sharp breath, his eyes drawn to his boyfriend’s lips molded into that stupid grin Yoongi’s oh-so-tempted to cover with his own lips.

But before he can do anything, Jungkook moves his lips to Yoongi’s ear and Yoongi tries his best to not allow his body to shake with the goosebumps that run under his skin so violently. This is the aftermath of pent-up sexual tension between them and Yoongi knows it. He wants Jungkook just as much as he knows Jungkook wants him. Yoongi has been pushing the boundary and testing Jungkook on it, only to be surprised by the younger’s immediate reaction.

Jungkook’s lips brush on his earlobe just for a moment before he pulls away enough just so all Yoongi can feel is his skin tingling under Jungkook’s breath.

“Hyung,” Jungkook breaths on his skin and chuckles when Yoongi can’t stop the tremble that shakes through him, “Hyung, do you think I’d even think of someone else? Me?”

Yoongi isn’t conscious of Jungkook’s hand sliding down the wall beside him until he feels his hand pulling his body and Yoongi can’t help but to be compliant. His hand reaches up on its own until he has a firm grip on Jungkook’s sleeve. 

“My Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes close once Jungkook’s lips touch his jaw light as a feather, brushing on the spot as Jungkook’s hand takes a firm grip on his waist, pressing Yoongi’s side to his chest tightly, leaving Yoongi wanting more than that.

“I could never look at some other guy,” Jungkook speaks smoothly against his skin, lowering his lips down Yoongi’s neck, stopping unexpectedly to press his lips at random spots, causing Yoongi’s pulse to jolt and race each time. “Not when I know I can have you.”

Jungkook’s hand slid down Yoongi’s side, finding the hem of the shirt under the jacket. Yoongi’s hand grips tightly on his boyfriend's biceps and he licks his lips. Jungkook glances at Yoongi’s face just enough to see him frowning; swallowing thickly around his words and Jungkook knows what he wants to say.

They’ve been waiting for this, to hold each other, feel each other like this, push the boundaries they couldn’t dare to during that summer break when Jungkook was nothing but an inexcusable, pathetic mess and Yoongi couldn’t, for the life of him, put together a comprehensive sentence right now. Yet, this seems to be going too far too fast, Jungkook knows and he doesn’t want to force anything, but it’s so deliciously pleasing to have Yoongi there for him, so pliant and responsive.

Yoongi feels Jungkook’s fingertips pressing on the small of his back, tracing his skin without pressing yet. Yoongi finds himself edging against him and even though this isn’t supposed to be happening, not now. Maybe Jungkook doesn’t know, maybe he can’t tell, but somewhere under the haze and warmth of the feeling of having Jungkook surrounding him, Yoongi knows this is just too soon.

“I craved you the whole semester, y’know?” Jungkook mutters against his skin and Yoongi tries his best not to close his eyes, it’s what Jungkook wants and he’s not willing to let him have it. “You don’t know how much I keep thinking about how your voice sounds over the phone- I loved seeing your face flushed that day too.”

Yoongi can’t help it, his eyes close before he notices as he feels Jungkook nibbling on his skin, at a particular soft spot near his clavicle. He fists Jungkook’s jacket and feels the smug grin pressed on his skin and he wants to complain, but all he’s able to muster is a deep groan that has Jungkook humming along as if they’re singing  a song together. Yoongi hates this as much as he wants to keep it going.

“I keep thinking about that one time you called me drunk in the middle of the night, hyung~” The words color Yoongi’s mind with blurry faint memories, the embarrassment of what happened serves off a remedy to make him snap out of this trace, just enough to get him to think of saying something.

His lips part even if he doesn’t know what he’d say and Yoongi hears the sound of a struggled gasp falls from his own lips when Jungkook all knowingly pressing an open-mouthed kiss on his pulse while his arm circle his middle underneath the shirt and his hand now presses harder on his skin. This is ridiculous, it’s nothing much. Yet, Yoongi can’t help himself. He loses himself in Jungkook’s warmth just as easily.

But, next thing he knows, he can’t feel Jungkook anymore, even so, Yoongi’s still into that haze Jungkook wrapped him in, still too lost to see through it all and Jungkook gives him a moment. He stands there, watching this new side of Yoongi; once he sees his hyung is stable again, Jungkook pulls away and he can see the confusion in Yoongi’s eyes looking for him. Jungkook wishes he didn’t have to stop there, but there’s still time.

Jungkook walks away with one of his soft smiles, taking a last look at how flustered Yoongi looks pressed up against that wall, pretending his fingertips doesn’t still tingle, craving for the touch of Yoongi’s skin again. He just has to pretend to not be that much affected and it’s not easy.

“I’ll put your things in my room,” he speaks up, not sure if Yoongi actually hears him, then he leaves before he can get any response. Yoongi could very well ask to stay in the other room and Jungkook doesn’t want that.

Yoongi runs his hands over his face and groans, this time disapprovingly of himself. He doesn’t recall how it started, but he’s relieved Jungkook seems to understand, or, at least, Yoongi hopes he does. Jungkook has always been a brat and he could’ve stopped just because he felt like it, but Yoongi wanted to think it’s because he understood. He pushes himself off the wall and finds himself lost inside the rather small apartment.

“I cleaned it because I knew you’d nag at me, hyung,” Jungkook says ever so casually as he walks in the living room again, as if what just happened was nothing but a speck of Yoongi’s imagination that came out vivid enough to leave the burn on his skin where Jungkook had touched him, “Are you hungry?”

Yoongi swallows, fighting off the awkwardness of not quite knowing what to do with himself and he sees Jungkook grinning to himself as he steps into the kitchen area.

“Why? Did you cook?” Yoongi didn’t even try to hide his skepticism and chose to sit on the couch, he looks down only to see Jungkook’s notebook open on top of a stack of books. He skims the page and naturally doesn’t understand a word.

“I’m living alone for over a year now, hyung,” Jungkook points out and looks back only to see Yoongi running his hand on the back of his neck, to make himself feel better. “If you’re tired just lay down a bit, I just have to heat this up. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Yoongi can hear Jungkook saying something about the bed, but to him, the couch sounds good enough. He tries to keeps his eyes open just a little while, just to drawn in the sound of Jungkook in the kitchen; different than what Yoongi imagined, Jungkook’s not loud, he barely makes any noise and he doesn know if he’s trying to be quiet or this is who he is while cooking. Just one of the things Yoongi would like to find out over these weeks. He hears the fridge being opened and the knife slicing the vegetables, hitting the cutting board and the place’s small and quiet enough for Yoongi to hear the shuffle of Jungkook’s bare feet on the floor and he sleeps with an unexpected reassurance.

⇽ part 01 | epilogue ⇾

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

My Little Secret part 5

Summary: After experiencing a turbulent night, you wake up feeling oddly refreshed. You try to go about your day when your mind is clouded by other things.

A murmur of words. A flash of skin. Heated breaths. Swollen lips pressing against one another. A fire that ignited deep within you, a sweet pleasure waiting for its release. Rough hands on your bare torso, a gruff voice whispering in your ear…

Darlin’.

The sun shining through the blinds across your eyes awoke you from a deep, dream-filled slumber. You shifted slightly, only to realize your hand rested underneath your pajama pants. The intense burning had cooled to a dull ache. Did you really just…dream like that? About Arthur?

You sat up slowly, stretching out your stiff muscles. Last night felt surreal, the assault only seeming like a vague nightmare rather than a vivid memory. It certainly didn’t bother you like it did upon coming home last night. The only reminder was the empty mug sitting on your nightstand. Next to it, your clock flashed 9:30 am. It’d been a while since you’d slept in that late. You had to wonder, how long did Arthur stay after you’d passed out? You crossed your arms, fingers idly searching for the scrapes, though in your surprise, found nothing but smooth skin.

You blinked in confusion, staring down at your arms. No evidence of scrapes or scratches, not even scabs or redness to indicate healing. Maybe they weren’t as deep as you’d thought.

Your hand wandered to your temple, expecting to still find the soreness and swelling, only to find that had disappeared too. You frowned, wondering how the hell you healed that quickly. Schooling and simple logic told you it would be impossible.

You shook your head in defeat, knowing that trying to make sense of it would lead to only more questions to which you wouldn’t know the answer to. Unless Arthur somehow brewed an all-healing tea, like some sort of health potion in fantasy worlds, which would be, again, logically impossible.

Emitting a long sigh, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. You grabbed the mug and headed out toward the kitchen.

Friday meant online work; which allowed you to relax in the comfort of your own home or the quiet, serene atmosphere of the library. But you also had work, which reminded you of the daunting task of having to speak to your boss about the night before. You could almost hear the conversation in your head; her demanding you take the matter to the police despite your constant protests.

Deciding to send a text rather than making a physical appearance, you let your boss know what was going on. Naturally, your phone blew up with multiple texts and eventually a call. You answered, albeit reluctantly, to have a thirty minute conversation about the details and trying to convince her you did not want to go to the police station and file a report. You hurriedly ended the conversation after that.

To keep your mind busy, you set yourself to making a nice breakfast. Your efforts proved fruitful; the savory-sweet smell of eggs, bacon and waffles filling your small apartment. You’d say yourself down and dug in, your mouth welcoming such a symphony of flavors that it almost seemed unreal. You’d always made breakfast the same way, yet somehow it seemed more…complex. Every ingredient was the same as you bought it, though you couldn’t quite figure out why it tasted different to you.

You’d left your apartment closer to noon, your backpack full of books and your laptop bag slung around your shoulder. Rather than hitting up the campus grounds, you decided to go to the local town library instead. As you walked along the dusty red paths of Rhodes, the thought of running into Tom again had briefly crossed your mind. Somehow though, you weren’t worried about it. Your mood was unexplainably heightened since waking up, and the last thing you wanted to do was dampen it.

Rhodes Town Library had loomed in the distance amongst the rows of houses and shops. It was a small, older building that was built in the 20’s. It certainly fit the more rustic part of town; buildings that had stood proud since the 1800’s. It only took you another moment to reach it, pushing open the heavy doors. The smell of must and old parchment was nearly overwhelming, though a welcome scent.

You settled at one of the tables close to one of the windows and got to work.

As time passed, you’d managed to make a sizable dent in your work. After about an hour and a half, you stood up to take a small break and stretch your legs. You began to wander aimlessly through the aisles. It wasn’t your first time here, though you weren’t too familiar with it. The college library was much bigger, although this place contained local history, and even had a couple of items and documents on display.

Your eyes wandered, observing the old photos, drawings, and newspaper clippings that decorated the walls. Topographic maps, photos of the mansions owned by rich families of the past, even one of Shady Belle. It was clear that much had happened since the town’s founding, even way before a university was built within it.

Creeping along the walls, everything keeping your interest. You came across an article that seemed almost familiar. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was about the Van der Linde gang. Between the museum in Saint Denis and the ghost stories at Shady Belle, you’ve learned a lot more about this gang in the past few weeks.

The clipping was faded and yellowed with age, though had a picture of the group posed in front of a large wagon. You stepped closer to get a better look; gazing over each and every one.

You paused at one, a man that looked…too familiar. Though with the low quality, it was a little difficult to really see. The name had been listed under the picture in order, and you found it: Arthur Morgan.

Now it hit you, he looked a lot like the Arthur you knew. You tilted your head in thought, observing as many features as the century-old newspaper allowed. Perhaps this was Arthur’s ancestor, or maybe it was some strange coincidence.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and you returned to your laptop. A few minute search rewarded you with a better image of this fellow.

Well, “better” would be a loose term, given how old the photo was. Still, it provided more features than the newspaper did. Arthur Morgan was posing in front of a backdrop, a revolver in hand with a fierce and very familiar expression. You recalled a moment from last night, how angry Arthur had looked when defending you from Tom. The resemblance was uncanny.

You tried to focus on your work once again, yet Arthur and his possible doppelgänger ancestor remained in the back of your mind. Maybe you could ask him next time you ran into him.

Your thoughts began to wander more, idly thinking about the dream you had last night. Admittedly he was a handsome man, though getting in bed with him was the furthest thing on your mind. The way his lips caressed your body sent a flush of heat into your cheeks. You could vaguely recall seeing him shirtless, a broad torso lined with thick muscle. Was that what he looked like in real life?

You reached further into your subconscious, mentally peeling his clothing off layer by layer. You could hear his voice, low and rough, his teeth grazing against your neck.

Despite the air conditioning, your body was hot.

You took a deep breath and shut your laptop, knowing there was nothing much else to be done with yourself in such a state. You’d have to find another activity to keep yourself busy. Silently, you scolded yourself for allowing to even consider such a thing. Arthur was nice, as strange as he seemed when you first met him. A gentleman who gave off an air of old-school polite mannerisms, yet fiercely protective as well. You had to wonder why he didn’t have a significant other, or if he did and just never mentioned it.

Of course he wouldn’t mention it, you’ve only spoken with him a handful of times.

Shit, why were you thinking about him so much?

---

The day wore on rather quickly, after you left the library you’d stopped for a quick lunch before returning home. Even though you kept yourself busy enough, you still could not get the image of those beautiful baby blues from your head. You’d even found yourself doodling them at some point; on the corner of your notebook page.

As the sun was setting, you were beginning to grow restless. With the evening off, your ideal night would be to relax. However, you felt as if you needed to do something else. You’d hadn’t had a Friday night off in a while, so it felt a little strange. You may go out for a walk perhaps, enjoy the outdoors after having your nose buried in research and textbooks for the majority of the day. Walking at night wasn’t something you’d done often, especially in such a humid area. The air had cooled down to a bearable temperature, enough to enjoy nature without feeling suffocated.

You knew most of the people in town as they’ve come into the club at some point or another. Rhodes wasn’t a town known for its crimes; though you had a pocket knife on you just in case. You headed toward the park, the paths illuminated with golden lights. Aside from the heavy ambience of crickets and katydids, it was quite peaceful. You wandered aimlessly, occasionally passing by others who had the same idea. Evening joggers and couples chattering away, or enjoying each other’s company.

It’d been a few years since your last relationship, opting to focus on your studies rather than a significant other. Regardless you missed the companionship and closeness, and a warm body to cuddle with. You imagined a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist, your skin tingling from the sheer thought of it. God, were you that touch-starved?

You sat down on a nearby bench, facing an elegant fountain. You focused on the running water, the sound of it soothing. Still, the distraction didn’t allow those thoughts to stray. A ghost of a person beside you, keeping you in a loose embrace. Tender lips pressing a light kiss to your cheek, whispering sweet words to you.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention, your gaze turning to see a figure stepping into the light. You’d expected to see another park goer, instead it was someone all too familiar: Arthur.

Your breath hitched, cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. You’d caught yourself daydreaming about him again, and it was if the universe was teasing you at this point. Perhaps it was a hallucination fueled by your own desires.

He caught your stare. “Hey, Y/N.”

Definitely wasn’t a hallucination.

“A-Arthur, didn’t expect to see you here!” you exclaimed slightly louder than you intended to keep your voice steady.

“Could say the same ‘bout you,” he responded with a slight chuckle. “You doin’ alright?” his tone became more serious, though with a hint of concern.

You nodded, remembering those moments from last night in your home. “Better. I’m not as hurt as I thought I was. I told my boss too, like you said. And took the night off.”

He nodded. “Good,” he stepped closer, gesturing to the empty space on the bench next to you. “Mind if I sit?” when you shook your head, he sat down and you realized he was a little closer than normal.

He was just mere inches from you, your skin tingling once again as if he radiated electricity. Your heart began to race, and you took a slow, deep breath to try and calm yourself. “Thank you,” you managed to say, “Again, for last night.”

He gave you a small smile. “Don’t have to thank me, Y/N.”

“You saved me, Arthur,” you continued. “I don’t know what else would have happened if you hadn’t shown up. You even stayed with me when I asked, even if it was stupid. If I could ever repay you, please let me know.”

He looked at you again, though his expression was hard to read. He sighed and shook his head, “That ain’t needed.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed, sensing his hesitation. “It could be anything…really.”

You caught your own desperation from your response, followed by a stab of shame. You hoped he hadn’t picked up on it. His attention turned to you again, his eyes staring directly into yours. Those blue eyes were beautiful and hypnotizing. You could get lost in them. Quickly, you peered at his lips. They were surprisingly plump and slightly parted, as if he were going to say something. Yet it was silent between the two of you.

Was he leaning in?

You’d never been this close to him before, his defining features stood out even in the darkness. The way his cheekbones were set, sloping a smooth angle to a strong, scarred jaw. The stubble that shadowed his face, you could just imagine it tickling you if you kissed him-

Kissing him.

You were that damn close to his face.

Fuck it.

You closed the space by planting your lips to his. They were unusually cool like the rest of his body, but soft against your skin. When you felt his body stiffen, you pulled back at an instant, afraid that you’d misread him.

He stared at you with a dumbfounded expression. “Y/N-”

“I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, tearing your sight from him. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. I totally misjudged- I didn’t mean- I thought you-”

Your rambling was stopped short when you felt a hand caress your cheek. You peered shyly up at him again, surprised to see a small smile on his face. It absolutely took your breath away to see him stare at you that way.

He guided your face close again until his lips rested on yours. You were even more surprised by this, almost pulling back in your own confusion. But his hand, as gentle as it was, kept you locked in. You melted to his touch, kissing him back with gaining confidence.

It felt like ages when he finally released you, pulling back slowly as his fingers slid from your cheek. The smile remained on his face. You stared him, your mouth slightly hanging open. Did that really just happen?

You’ll catch flies like that, sweetheart.” He chuckled.

You closed your mouth with a little more force than necessary. Your face burned with a blush. “Uh…” was all you could manage to utter.

“You okay?” he asked, the concern immediate on his face.

You blinked and nodded, turning your head away in embarrassment. “God, I-” you took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “We just kissed.”

“Yeah…we did.” He said nonchalantly. “Ain’t that what you wanted?”

You turned your head slowly to face him, but avoiding his gaze at the same time. You weren’t sure why you felt so shy at the moment. “Of…course,” you said slowly. “I just…I didn’t know you wanted to as well.”

He chuckled again. “Wouldn’t o’ kissed ya otherwise, Y/N.”

Somehow you blushed even harder. You covered your face sheepishly. “Aw jeez…didn’t think I’d be so flustered…”

“Hey…” you felt his cool hand on yours, slowly peeling it away from your face. “You’re alright, darlin’.”

Darlin’, just like in your dream. Was this a dream? His eyes were on yours, exhibiting a softness on his otherwise weathered face. You reached out, cupping his face almost hesitantly. His stubbled skin felt very real to you, your thumb running along his cheekbones. You could observe his features up close for once, from the faint scars that decorated his face and the ridge on his nose, indicating it’d broken at one point. He was very real to you.

“Can…can I kiss you again?” you asked, your voice lower than a whisper.

He nodded silently, allowing you to take the lead this time. You brought yourself closer, eliciting a kiss even better than the last. Your arms wrapped around his neck, the muscles of his shoulders strong underneath your touch. His mouth felt soft against yours, his lips moving in sync with yours. Hands rested against your waist with a light touch, and you scooted closer into his arms. His grip tightened slightly.

Your thoughts roamed back to earlier, awakening a spark that cascaded down your body.

The kiss became more heated, his mouth gently prodding yours to open as his tongue darted across your lips. You chased after it with your own tongue, wanting so desperately to have more of him. Would it go that far tonight?

As if he read your mind, his hands disappeared from your waist only to gently grip your wrists. He pulled your arms from around him, parted the kiss and sat back. You pouted and whined slightly, craving even more.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Don’t wanna get carried away with ya. Might end up doin’ somethin’ I’ll regret.”

You sighed in disappointment, but you understood. It was too soon for anything else right now, and you still barely knew one another. You ignored how your emotions were driving you wild. Too wild. You’d never experienced anything like this before for someone else. Arthur really had a different effect on you in a way you couldn’t explain.

He brushed his lips against your hands, still trapped within his. He lifted your arm up gently to kiss a line from your palm, down to your wrist. He rested his mouth against your pulse point for a second before releasing your hands. You could have sworn you felt his teeth graze your skin, but it was so slight and quick you weren’t able to tell. “Walk with me, Y/N. Think I oughta get to know ya more.”

You nodded silently, though your legs felt rooted to the bench. He helped you to your feet, sliding his hand into yours with a gentle grip.

You didn’t expect yourself to become a chatterbox after that, but for the next twenty minutes, you walked around the park as you poured your entire life out to him.

“So you’re gonna be a pharmacologist, huh?” Arthur asked after you’d explained why you were here. “That’s a lotta schoolin’ ain’t it?”

“So much, feels like an eternity sometimes,” you sighed. “I think at this point I could list every drug in the world in alphabetical order, along with each effect it has on the human body. The best part is it’ll be part of my job to create new ones.”

“That’s some skill,” Arthur mused. “New drugs to fight sickness n’ all?”

You nodded. “My ambition will be the death of me.” You said with an amused tone.

Arthur peered over at you. “Ah, don’t say that. You’ll be great at it.”

“I’m only joking,” you pointed out with a smile. “But some days I feel like my head will explode from all the studying. I was in the library earlier and-” you stopped your train of thought, remembering what you discovered in the library. “Hey Arthur, are you named after an ancestor? Like a great-great grandfather or something?”

He frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Well, I came across something interesting. Those outlaws that used to roam this area over a hundred years ago? The library has some information displayed about them. I found a picture of one that looks exactly like you, and has the exact same name.” you explained.

The confusion in his face deepened slightly, and then it was wiped when he gave a slight chuckle. “Yeah. Guess you could say that. Descendant of an outlaw.”

Something about his tone struck you as odd, as if he were nervous about it. Perhaps of being judged by his family’s history?

“It’s gettin’ late, lemme escort ya to your car.” He said, squeezing your hand slightly.

You blinked and glanced at your phone. It was nearly 10 pm. “Oh, shoot, didn’t even realize it was that late.”

He led you back through the park, taking you to the parking lot where your car was. He finally released your hand, and noted how cold it felt despite holding on to it for nearly a half hour now. You turned to face him, smiling up at his handsome face.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” he murmured to you, leaning in for a kiss to which you responded eagerly.

It was quick and sweet. As you broke from him, you said, “Arthur, we walked around the park for twenty minutes and I still haven’t learned much else about you.”

A half smile touched his lips. “Ah, my life is borin’ compared to yours, darlin’. Pretty sure you won’t wanna hear ‘bout it.”

“But I do,” you responded as-a-matter-of-factly, putting your hands on your hips. “Especially if…ya know, we’ll be seeing each other more often. I just gave you my whole life story, so I’d like to hear yours.”

His head shook slightly at your tone, the smile widening with amusement. “I ‘spose that’s fair. Next time, sweetheart. Don’t wanna keep ya out too long.” He reached over and nimbly opened your car door.

How was he such a gentleman? “Okay, how about a date? I have off next Monday.”

“A date.” He repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Been a while since I’ve been on one.”

“And all the more reason to do it.” you pointed out with a smile.

He contemplated for a moment, his eyes cast toward the ground. He finally looked at you once again, giving you a nod. “Alright. Monday night.”

“8 pm, we’ll go to that little burger joint by the school. Sound good?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought and appearing almost…nervous? He finally nodded and answered, “Sure. 8 pm on Monday night.”

“I’ll see you then, Arthur.” You said as your smile widened.

It was then when you said your real farewells. He’d reached out to caress your hair gently, each touch elicited from him would send sparks along your skin. Your body trembled with a slight shudder as he whispered another goodbye to you, smiling at you before stepping away.

You watched as he crossed the parking lot over to a motorcycle partly hidden in the shadows. He mounted the iron horse and the engine roared to life, filling the night air with its growls. Just moments later he skirted across the lot, turning onto the street before speeding off and out of sight. As the noise faded, you stepped into your car and sat down.

Excitement overtook you from head to toe, expressing itself in a squeal of glee. For the first time in years you had a date.

[ericsonclan]

Count Stop This Feeling

Summary: Prisha and Violet go to spend some time cuddling under a tree when Prisha sees something that takes her mind off cuddling.

Word Count: 1620

Read on AO3:

“A bit more to the right,” Mitch instructed Willy who grunted loudly as he pulled on a rope with all his might. The bag of beans bounced slightly due to the sudden force then spun around slowly in a circle. The minotaur’s eyes followed the bag draped over the tree branch and he gave a nod. “Yeah, that should be good. This will be the most kickass punching bag in all of Richmond.” He snorted proudly and moved over towards the lagoon creature to give him a hearty whack on the back. “Soon you’ll be ripped and Allison will think you’re even more of a badass than you already are!” Mitch’s words made Willy look up at his friend with wide eyes. The thought of impressing his girlfriend made his heart skip a few beats. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Mitch gave a confident smile when suddenly out of the corner of his eye he noticed a red cloth of some kind dangling from one of the tree’s lower branches. His tail flicked wildly left and right and his eyes grew large as the wind made the red cloth blow back and forth. Before he could think better of it, Mitch charged forward and tried to destroy that cloth.

He didn’t succeed; his horn only successfully nicking the side of the bag of beans. The tree shook with a hearty thunk as the minotaur stood there, his horns now wedged firmly in its base. Mitch’s tail flicked more furiously now as he struggled to break free. His hooves dug into the dirt and tore up the grass as he continued to writhe.

“Mitch!” Willy grabbed his best friend’s waist and tugged with all his strength. It took a few minutes but eventually the minotaur was free. Just in time to notice the principal making her way over.

“Mitchell!” Christa’s commanding voice rang out and Mitch looked up nervously. It felt like the banshee’s voice was shooting right through him. Willy was about to ask what to do when he felt an ice-cold hand grasp his. Looking down, he recognized it to be Allison’s.

“Run,” The ice maiden whispered in her boyfriend’s ear. She then created an ice slick on the ground and skidded away with Willy in tow. Within seconds the pair was gone, leaving Mitch alone and confused at what had just happened. He didn’t have a chance to process it, however, as Christa appeared before him.

The opaque banshee looked at the minotaur with a disapproving gaze. “Care to tell me why you stole from the school cafeteria?”

“No,” Mitch huffed angrily and didn’t bother to make eye contact. That had been a poor move on the young monster’s part. Soon he was being dragged away to the principal’s office, leaving the bag slowly emptying, a small mountain of beans forming underneath it.

The cool afternoon breeze brushed against Prisha’s skin as she felt herself settle, her hand intertwined with Violet’s. It was finally the weekend which meant that she could spend as much time as she wanted with her girlfriend. The thought made her buzz with excitement. One look over at Violet made it obvious she felt the same way. The werewolf’s tail was wagging back and forth like crazy. “Ready to head out?” The vampire’s warm voice drew the werewolf’s attention.

“Yeah,” Violet’s tail continued to wag at a steady pace as the couple strolled down the steps and toward one of their favorite spots on campus. There was a tree secluded from the rest of the campus that was always covered by shade, making it easy for Prisha to enjoy their time together without risk of burning or having to put on more vampire-specialized sunscreen. As they made their way to the spot however, Violet noticed the now nearly empty bag of beans spinning lazily around in a circle. Below it was a plethora of beans; there must've been hundreds if not thousands of them.

“What the hell?” The werewolf’s ears twitched in confusion as her head tilted slightly to the side.

“That’s odd,” Prisha’s eyes seemed laser focused on the pile of beans.

“Yeah, can’t really sit and talk here,” Violet’s ears fell slightly, her tail barely swaying back and forth now. “Guess we can find a new spot.” She turned and tried to walk away but felt resistance on her arm. Her nose scrunched in confusion and she glanced back to see that her girlfriend hadn't budged from her place. “Prisha?”

“I have to count the beans.” The vampire whispered, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

“What? Why?” The werewolf looked at Prisha who glanced back with a slightly embarrassed expression.

“It’s sort of a vampire thing. We have the urge to count things.” Prisha’s explanation didn’t seem to make much sense to Violet.

“So you count everything?”

Prisha shook her head. “Not necessarily. But if there is a large amount of something like that pile of beans I have an urge that I can’t deny to count every single one. Usually I can push down the temptation to count or if it's a small number it's no big deal. Like if some buttons fell out of someone’s pocket, then I’d glance down and count one, two and be done,”

Violet still seemed a bit lost. “Who the fuck carries buttons in their pockets?” The werewolf shook her head then glanced over at Prisha whose eyes were still glued to the bean pile. “Okay. I don’t really get it, but if you gotta count beans we can stay.” The vampire smiled brightly, causing her fangs to poke out. She leaned forward and kissed Violet’s cheek, making the werewolf’s heart pitter patter and her tail wag at a faster pace. Prisha guided them forward and took a seat beside the bean mountain. Violet stood in place and went around in a small circle three times before taking a seat beside her girlfriend.

Prisha stretched out her arms and cracked her neck. “Time to get to counting!” Her eyes shone with excitement, her fangs prominent. Without further ado, she began the long counting process. “One, two, three, four,” The vampire slid over the beans one at a time to make sure she had counted each and every single one of them.

Violet watched and let the cool breeze brush through her fur as she leaned closer to Prisha. It wasn’t the most ideal situation but she still got to spend time with Prisha. That thought made Violet’s heart all warm and fuzzy and her tail swayed back and forth, accidentally hitting Prisha’s back once or twice. Prisha giggled at the tickling sensation before continuing her counting.

Soon the seconds stretched into minutes then into hours. The warm afternoon sun had moved through the sky and was now slowly setting. The werewolf had curled up comfortably by the vampire who was still intently counting the beans. Violet’s head bobbed up and down as she tried to stay awake to keep Prisha company but it was no use. Within seconds the werewolf had fallen asleep. Her head tilted over and fell onto her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Prisha smiled softly over at her girlfriend and placed a tender kiss on her forehead before resuming her count. “Five thousand seven hundred and sixty nine….” Prisha’s gentle voice carried through the air as she kept up the hard work. The vampire was reaching the end; she could feel it. Prisha paused for a moment and focused on the warmth of Violet next to her. How her tail had curled around Prisha and how peaceful she looked. Giving another forehead kiss, Prisha continued her work until she had finally gotten to the last bean. “There! All finished!” Prisha gently took Violet’s hand in hers and gave it a soft squeeze. “Vi. Violet.”

“Mmmm,” The werewolf’s ears twitched at the sound of her love’s voice and she stirred in her sleep. It took a few seconds but soon Violet was awake. She gave a sharp yawn. “You finished?” “Yes. Thank you for staying with me. I really appreciated it,”

Prisha’s bright smile made Violet get overwhelmed and she glanced away. “It was nothing,”

“Well, I still am grateful all the same. Would you like to drop by my dorm for a few minutes to warm up and have some tea?” The suggestion made Violet’s wolf ears perk up and her tail wag out of control. “Yeah,”

Prisha smiled in amusement at how easily Violet’s true emotions came through in her werewolf attributes. “Alright, then let’s head over there,” She rose and helped her girlfriend up. The two walked in silence when Violet suddenly spoke. “So, how many beans were there?”

“Six thousand eight hundred and thirty two.” Prisha double checked the number in her mind then gave a determined nod when she was sure she was right.

“That’s a lot of beans,” The werewolf kicked a pebble out of her way.

“True. Sorry that I threw away our afternoon with that,” Prisha gave an apologetic look over to her girlfriend who shrugged it off.

“No big deal. Besides, it's always fun when I’m with you.”

Those words would have made Prisha’s heart flutter if it still beat. Slowly she lifted up her girlfriend’s hand and placed a soft kiss on top of it. Violet’s eyes grew large before she hid them away behind her hair. Without thinking twice she leaned over, getting on her tiptoes to kiss the vampire’s cold cheek. The romantic gesture made Prisha beam which led Violet’s tail to wag even faster. The two continued to walk in peaceful bliss. The day certainly hadn’t gone as they planned but it still turned out to be a good one.

[localinferiorgood]

BNHA Modern Gang AU

*I got bored on a car ride and kind of got overexcited imagining and planning out this AU inside my head so uh, yeah. I should also note that I ultimately decided they would not have quirks in this AU*

General Stuff: - I’ll be referring to the gang as Gang X for now - The kids would go to school and everything like normal kids but after school would have gang training (physical and in weapon use (instead of having quirks)  - I want all of the major events of the show to still be incorporated in the AU, in some way - And I want all the kids to have the same personalities and relationships, because its not a BNHA AU if all the characters have different personalities (also I love my babies so) - Everyones “Hero Names” in the show are now their gang names - Instead of striving to become the #1 hero, they’re striving to eventually take over and become the head boss of the gang (at least Bakugo, Deku, and Todoroki are)

School: - So I was imagining the kids would go to a nice private school paid for by the gang - Also a major sports school - It would have mostly normal kids but have 2 classes (in each grade level) filled specifically with the gang kids (like the hero course; the normal kids would be based off the general track in UA) - There are rumors that the school may have gang ties, but no ones ever really been able to prove it - The school nurse (they call her Recovery Girl because it seems like she can take any injury in 15 minutes flat; she even takes care of broken bones and major injuries) and the principal (Nezu; not sure what would be unique about him yet, as he obviously can’t be a mouse in this one) and the gang-class teachers are all aware of the ties to the gang and are in it  - So to properly encompass and justify Class 1-A and Class 1-B’s relationship, I was thinking both classes could also be in sports(maybe volleyball,baseball or basketball(require a lot of  teamwork) but anything would probably work)?(it would be mandatory as physical training and to strengthen their bonds) - I can’t decide whether I would have Class 1-A be varsity and class 1-b be JV of the same sport or both varsity of different sports. 

Support Course/items: - So.... this wouldn’t be an extra class physically in school, but the kids training to work on support items would go to the same private school - Hatsume is still the prodigy - Support tailors weapons and sometimes clothing/other stuff to fit specific people  - Like they can tailor a specific gun to fit your hand, and can lower how much the gun kicks. They can do the same for knives, tailoring them to be the perfect length and weight for the user, as well as fitting perfectly in their hands. This goes for all weapons as well

“Gang Training”: - This is basically training to be able to be a competent gang member (most kids that get into the private school end up being higher ups) - They do basic physical training (I mean in hand-to-hand combat it helps to be strong, but also to handle the kick from any gun) but also with basic weaponry - The guns they use for training look, feel and have the actual kick of the gun they’re using but only actually shoot paintballs (Mr. Aizawa is a tough teacher but it’s not very rational to kill off all of your students lmao) - They train with all kinds of guns and ammunition, to get a feel for what each one is like and what they like. Aizawa requires them to train with all anyway though, as he believes you should be able to pick any random gun off the ground and shoot it with perfect efficiency and aim.  - There’s safety measures for swords and knives too, but I haven’t trained with those so idk what those would be lol 

All Might: - I was imagining he would be the boss, or head of the organization, since he’s #1 hero (at least in the beginning) - Like in the beginning of the show, he is secretly sick from an old injury and can only fight for so long before he starts coughing up blood.  - He’s still revered as not only the best gang leader ever but also one of the most amazing fighters the underworld has ever seen - But, as he gets older he still needs to find a worthy successor, as he’s definitely not immortal - Believes the boss should still be actively involved in the gang, fighting alongside his men and while some people think it’s foolish, everyone respects and likes him more for it 

All Might & Deku: - Obviously, Deku is still his secret chosen successor (or the one he wants to succeed him anyway but it will, in the end, go to the best candidate no matter what) - Deku was (distantly), probably through his father who’s in America, related to Gang X. His grandpa told him about it before he died, and all about All Might, the most impressive man in all the underworld, and has wanted to be just like him ever since - Soooo......I’m not entirely sure about how this part should play out, but I’m thinking maybe Deku was sick? And just couldn’t afford the really expensive procedure? (I’m pretty sure in the show Deku is middle class? So we’d keep it that way) - He by chance meets All Might and asks if he could ever be like him, even with his sickness, and All Might says no - Not sure what would go on to change his mind, but something happens, and All Might decides to pay for Deku’s hospital bills, heal whatever was going on, and personally start physically training him. Probably would make him clean up the whole ass beach still lmao - After the “entrance exam” (the physical part which happens after the standard school written at a secret location), Deku gets in by the skin of his teeth

Endeavor&Todofam: - uhhhhhhhhhhh........ - So he’s always wanted to be gang leader, but has always been behind All Might - He’s even tried duking it out with the boss a couple times but never wins - Not sure if I would make him head of the second most powerful branch of the gang or second in command - Either way he still not-so-secretly hates All Might, although he does grudgingly respect him - Wanted to become better than All Might, not get the top spot from All Might weakening, so he’s still pissed when All Might has to retire and he’s technically the boss now  - So, I haven’t been able to decide what Rei had that Endeavor wanted(since no quirks) but I still want it to be a fucked arranged marriage. Maybe she came from “good bloodlines” (like notoriously strong and smart /or people, whether her family was arranged in gang stuff or not) or maybe she was just very pretty and when she refused him, he literally bought off her parents? - Still raised Touya and Shouto specifically to be All Might’s successor - Touya still wasn’t good enough for some reason and something happened to him (weak bones maybe?) and he’s still dead in this AU (or is Dabi whatever the truth really is) - Rei still had a psychotic break and burned Shouto’s eye with boiling water and is in a hospital

Top 10 Heroes:  - So I want the top 10 heroes to either be the leaders of the 10 branches of the gang, or the top 10 members of the gang (they have a council or something)

Work Studies: - So in my old high school we were allowed to have a work study class, where we left campus for that hour and worked somewhere of our choosing, - Work studies were a big part of character development in the show so I’d like to keep those if possible - To make things less suspicious, work studies are required for all students (I mean let’s face it of entire classes all had work studies and others didn’t it would be weird). Also, since it’s a nice private school, I can totally see where they’d want the kids to go out and have “real world experience” before leaving high school - I would probably keep the fact that first years typically don’t have work studies (our school didn’t let freshman have them) but they’re trying something different this year - Of course the gang classes would be sent to various gang members (I think they’d still get to choose who, but idk maybe it would be more interesting if the teachers chose for them? - The general classes would go to whatever work study of their choosing, probably based on the careers they want to go into

Sports Festival:  - Literal school sports festival  - Limited only to those school students, i think - Gang members interested in work studies would come watch and scout - Would it be as internationally famous as the UA sports festival? i dont know tbh

Summer Camp & The Wild Wild Pussycats: - Not sure if here they would be purely working on physical ability and maybe martial arts or on weapons and stuff too - It would depend whether or not the Pussycats knew about the whole gang thing(or if they were involved in it) or were just regular physical trainers with no connection or idea about the gang thing - Kota......I think I would have his parents die in a gang-related accident and, obviously, hate anything to do with gang activity (which is normal anyway). If the Pussycats were not gang-related I’m not sure how the whole Deku-saving-him thing would go down but oh well - The League of Villains would be attacking still, to kidnap Bakugo (for whatever reason)

League of Villains (Gang Y) & All for One: - In a world where there are no “heroes” and “villians”, they obviously can’t go by that name (I mean I guess they can but I feel like that would be kind of stupid and odd) so we’ll go with Gang Y, for now - All for One can’t be immortal in this one, so maybe the gang name just keeps getting passed on from successor to successor? Or he’s just stupidly old(like 100 years old and still kicking ass)? - So, in the underworld, obviously no one is really “good” so to speak, I assume Gang X would still be involved in basic drug deals and stuff like that, but think Gang Y would be involved in some really fucked up shit. Like slave trade stuff maybe? Blood money? - Gang X and Gang Y have been top rivals since both of them started (around the same time) - Gang startup story would be the same as the beginning of the AFO and OFA rivalry in the show (2 brothers with different ideals) - AFO still ends up in jail after the legendary battle in Kamino Ward  - So......I’m having trouble with Shigaraki’s backstory since quirks aren’t a thing. Like obviously it would still be a horrific accident but.....yeah you get the point (haha it sucks trying not to spill manga spoilers) - Toga’s backstory would pretty much be the same I think - Spinner would have some deformity or something (since he can’t be a lizard) justifying his backstory - Twice is hard for the backstory thing.....but I would still have some traumatic event that caused him to do the contradicting voices thing - Nomu’s would maybe be like, brainless humans? Still look like flesh and blood humans but essentially be brain dead and only do what AFO tells them to do? Not sure but I’d still like them to be the result of human experimentation. - In Kurogiri’s case.........not sure tbh we’ll work on it  - Speaking of Kurogiri, he is like, get away driver/escape artist of the millennia. It’s like him and the rest of Gang Y just disappear into thin air. Even the police have tried to track him but? he’s just....gone? He’s still team mom, by the way, and really the only reason the Gang Y survives tbh (Credit to @tears-of-an-otaku )

Stain:  - Goes after and kills gang members (especially higher-ups) that he deems “corrupt” (ones that sit back and make underlings do all the work; rapers; betrayers; ones that are only really in it for the money; etc) - Puts chemicals on his weapons that immobilize his victims; The blood-type thing is still the same (works longer/better on specific blood-types) - Iida still goes after him for disabling his brother, and Deku finds and follows him, and Todoroki ends up coming as back up. - They still don’t get the credit for defeating him “for safety reasons”

Chisaki & Eri: - From a rivaling gang - Not sure how they find out whats going on but they do - Eri, at the very least, is still severely abused, but it would be cool to be able to incorporate using her blood to make some kind of drug  - Not really sure about much in this story arc tbh it’s so quirk-based it’s kind of hard to incorporate without them :/

The Licensing Exam: - Another sports festival, but this time with other major sports schools - Gang members come to scout as well  - In this one though, the other kids are just competing in a sports festival, but the teachers of the “gang classes” are also watching to determine whether or not their kids are ready to take on more “hardcore”/serious work studies (or even internships), where they would be able to experience what it’s actually like to be in a gang a little more in depth and practice real world fighting (and of course their special skills) - Special thanks to @tears-of-an-otaku for helping me figure this one out!

The Kids: - Like I said I want all the kids personalities and relationships to be the same - Jiro is still super into music and can still play (at least a little bit) a bunch of instruments; She has unnaturally good hearing too.  - Bakugo obviously can’t explode things with his hands anymore but has a dangerous interest in explosives (he was actually recommended to join the Support team but he rudely declined); still tells everyone to die on the (way too) regular; also still has the best reflexes in the class - Deku is super strong. Our sweet boy doesn’t look it but is strong af - Koda, still quiet as ever, is super good with animals (but afraid of bugs) - Momo is super good at designing and creating stuff and is very inventive(can always find a solution to a problem); She was also recommended to help in support but she (politely) declined; Still team mom - Iida’s a great runner (probably best at long distance but good at jump about anything)! Back in middle school, he was an absolute track star, but now-a-days with school, his class sports, and gang training, he doesn’t have time for track as well :( ;Still class president and team dad - Kaminari is still our lovable dumbass but is really good with electronics and wiring anything.  - Shinsou obviously can’t actually mind control, but he’s a super smooth talker and can convince almost anybody to do anything for him, so it can kind of seem like he controls people.  - Kirishima is an icon when it comes to defense training, he can block almost anything. He also never seems to get bruises. The rest of the class lowkey hates him for it because while, at the end of the day, they’re covered in bruises, Kirishima’s got maybe one (but usually not even that). He dyed his hair because he thought it made him took tougher and less boring - Aoyama is still into the ridiculously shiny, which is horrible for stealth practice, but he has this trick where he (maybe with a bracelet or something? Or a belt bc of his iconic belt in the show) can blind his opponent with the light reflecting off the metal and go in for an attack in that moment. It’s surprisingly effective.  - Oijiro may not have a tail, but he still excels at martial arts.He even rivals Bakugo (he might be able to win if Bakugo played by the actual martial arts rules that Oijiro was taught but he won’t) - Sugar makes Sato really energetic really quickly! (and for some reason makes him focus better). He’s still a super good cook and baker - Shouji still wears a mask all the time (he has a medical condition with his mouth that’s kind of gross and tends to scare people). He “talks with his hands” using sign language! He’s been teaching the rest of the class, as Aizawa said it was a very useful skill to have, especially in a situation where they need to be quiet but still communicate. - Hagakure, for whatever reason, is amazing a stealth missions! She’s somehow really good at blending into the background and even Jiro can’t hear her when she walks (unless she’s really focusing on it). Top of her class in it, actually.  - Mineta still isn’t that good in actual battle but is really good at simple immobilization (sorry the only thing I could think of for him even a little bit related to his quirk). - Ururaka (while not as strong as Deku), is surprisingly, incredibly strong. She can pick almost anything up and make it seem like the thing’s totally weightless (even when she’s actually struggling, something Deku can’t do) - Sero is the master of Duck tape really good at fixing stuff! It seems like he can fix almost anything; Him and Momo team up a lot when something breaks (which, in Class 1-A, is surprisingly often *cough* Bakugo *cough*); (Sorry, couldn’t really think of anything for him either but tape=fixing things? maybe?) - Mina is really into chemistry, specifically corrosives and hazardous mixtures. Her and Bakugo once teamed up after school and tried to make something - Aizawa said if they ever teamed up to do anything in the chemistry lab again they were going to be banned from it; Mina still has pink hair - Tokoyami has a pet raven that follows him everywhere-literally everywhere. It was a problem at first, but the school eventually decided to let Tokoyami keep it as long as it wasn’t making a mess anywhere and not attacking students (everyone else is lowkey mad about it like why does he get to keep a pet? Nezu tries to pass it off as an “emotional support bird” but everyone knows that’s bullshit); The bird (whom Tokoyami’s emo ass named Dark Shadow for some reason) can actually attack on cue! Actually, he kind of constantly has to be watched otherwise he might attack someone on the random (it’s happened; he seems to pick up on Tokoyami’s emotions somehow and if Tokoyami gets mad well.....; He has in particular had trouble Aoyama and all his sparkly things); The bird can actually send messages too! Tokoyami refuses to say how or why he trained his bird to do this but since no one expects such an old fashioned way of sending a message, it’s extremely useful for high secrecy messages (and packages; actually the actual gang has used it a time or two, a fact Tokoyami is secretly proud of). (Credit to @agaxso) - Todoroki is, not quite an expert, but has a weird amount of knowledge on arson and burning things (not sure why a gang would really need a skill like this except to burn bodies beyond recognition but Endeavor specializes in it so it must be useful somewhere); He also has an extensive knowledge of using  polyoxacyclobutane mixtures(liquid nitrogen definitely and maybe some other things?) to freeze things at whatever temperature (I think he’d probably shoot bullet-like things out of a modified gun; Freezing the target when it hits. Here’s a link explaining basically how polyoxacyclobutane works); He has practice with the modified gun from training with his father, but his mom was the one that originally taught him how to make and use the bullets properly.(Credit to @agaxso) - Monoma can do anything almost perfectly after watching someone else do it once. Unfortunately, he has a really horrible memory so he only retains the information for like an hour then has to watch them do it again. Still an annoying asshole - Kendo is tough as hell! Specifically has really tough hands/knuckles. The One Punch Man of class 1-B, she is literally known for being able to knock people out in only a punch or two. She once smacked Monoma and he had a wicked bruise on his cheek for 2 weeks. She still maintains that she “didn’t even hit him that hard” - Awase is an amazing welder! He was another candidate for the support team, but after some consideration he declined - Tetsutetsu, like Kirishima, has ridiculously tough skin that never bruises, and has amazing defense - I don’t really know enough about class 1-B to finish this unfortunately - Aizawa and Vlad actually put special time aside for the kids to practice and hone their specific skills and learn how to put them to use in battle. After all, you should use everything you have in your arsenal in real battle, and unique/special “skills” can be extremely useful in battle and often pack the element of surprise and can easily but you above whoever your fighting, (especially if they don’t have any special attacks)

Soooo......if anybody would like to write out this AU for me and help fill in the blanks I would love you forever and also probably owe you my life because I have absolutely fallen in love with this AU. Also let me know if I missed anything or you have ideas for the stuff I couldn’t fill in and I’ll put it in (and credit you of course lol) @todorokitops I know you’re a pretty well known Tumblr fanfic writer so......know anybody who might be up for the challenge?

[anistarrose]

Dog is an Elf’s Best Friend (TAZ Graduation)

Summary: The summer before our series is set, two brothers search for the cure to a curse and are led to the Unknown Forest.

Word Count: 4100

Warnings: very brief eye horror

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/21436063

I can’t be completely sure because I can’t read Travis’s mind and I don’t know what canon is going to do, but this is probably an AU. Some parts are based of a theory I think is pretty plausible, but other parts are bigger stretches.

***

Each year, when the hottest months arrive and the students leave their Wiggenstaff dorms to visit family or pursue summer employment, there are exactly four faculty members who remain on campus. One is Hernández, who stays to take care of the resident animals, and the second is of course Groundsy, whose true motivations remain an enigma to all but is ostensibly present to repair the tower and maintain the grounds as needed.

The third is Higglemas Wiggenstaff. They say you have a better chance of catching him outside of his office in the summer than you do during the school year, but it’s still a rare occurrence. Most rooms in Wiggenstaff’s, and in the Annex in particular, get so hot in the summer that they’re practically suffocating — but rumor has it that Higglemas can and will open a portal to the Plane of Air itself, if that’s what it takes to ventilate his office and keep it at a liveable temperature.

(Most students — especially the magic users themselves, who know just how much skill it requires to open such a portal — take this rumor with a grain of salt. Higglemas has been locking himself away like this for years, but has yet to emerge from his office with any grand innovation or discovery to show for it — how competent of a wizard can he really be?)

Unbeknownst to all but Higglemas himself, the fourth faculty member is Higglemas’s dog.

At first impression, and even second and third impression, nothing seems unusual about the collie that wanders the halls of the Annex — at least, nothing more unusual than what would be expected from a pet of Higglemas’s. He’s a well-trained dog, usually aloof but occasionally willing to accept bribes in the form of food, and he seems intelligent, but not uncannily so.

But this impression of mundanity, while incorrect, is a testament to the dog’s ability to keep a secret. And as luck would have it, this ability just so happens to run in the family.

***

Today, there are two deliveries for Higglemas waiting at the wrought-iron gate to the Annex. When the dog fetches them from the courier and brings them to his office, Higg immediately tears off the brown paper covering the larger of the two packages and begins leafing through the book in search of its section on polymorph spells. He hunches over the his desk, ignoring the second package, and presses his thumb to his middle finger to stem the flow of blood from a papercut he’s given himself in his haste.

“Hrm. Smoke from mahogany wood, that might be worth investigating…” he mutters, sloppily underlining a passage in the ancient tome with a ragged-looking quill pen. Then he cross-references his notes, and scowls. “No, what am I thinking? We’ve tried mahogany wood twice now!”

He slams the book closed. “We’ve tried every type of wood by now! We’ve tried every damn combination of components in all of Nua — and none of them have done a single thing!”

The dog whimpers, nudging the second package closer to Higg. It’s a small burlap sack, containing several loaves of bread and sugary pastries ordered from the bakery in Last Hope.

The dog cannot speak, but his message is clear: You’ll never find the right components if you forget to eat and collapse from starvation.

Higg reluctantly breaks off a tiny piece of crust from one of the loaves, popping it into his mouth as he pulls out another book. Unsatisfied, the dog leaps up onto the desk, trampling all over Higg’s notes and setting the bag of food down directly on top of the book, where Higg can’t possibly ignore it.

“Oh, fuck off, Hiero!” Higg snaps. “Do you want to be stuck like this forever?”

Hiero huffs and jumps down off the desk, storming off to disappear behind one of the office’s many bookshelves.

Higg sighs. “Okay, fine! I’ll eat — look!” He magically slices two pieces of bread off of the loaf and puts a piece of cheese between them, then takes a bite and makes exaggerated chewing motions. “See, there it goes! Down the pipe! You don’t need to get all sulky on me!”

Hiero doesn’t emerge from behind the bookshelf.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, okay? I’m sorry.” Higg puts his head in his hands. “It’s just — it’s been five fucking years, and I haven’t come up with anything, Hiero. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Someone’s bound to figure us out sooner or later…”

He swivels around in his chair, pulling open the curtains covering the office’s sole window and gazing outside towards the Unknown Forest with unfocused eyes.

“Everyone knows you would’ve saved me a long time ago, if I’d gotten cursed,” he whispers. “But I’ve tried every idea I can think of, every single spell component I know, and you’re still a dog…”

Hiero pokes his head out from his hiding place just in time to see his brother abruptly lean closer to the window, a smile suddenly spreading across his face.

“So that means the missing piece of the puzzle must be unknown to us, so to speak…” Higgs muses out loud.

Hiero barks so loud that it startles a bird flying by outside. You’d better not be planning what I think you’re planning! You’re just going to get yourself killed!

But Higg is already on his way to the door, throwing on a cloak and dusting off a longsword that hasn’t seen use in decades.

“Quit being such a worrywart, Hiero. I’m going to the Unknown Forest, I’m gonna burn some of the shit I find there, and then I’m going to get you back to normal.”

***

The smoke is the most vital component of a potent True Polymorph spell, on that much all sources agree. A cloud of smoke can change shape unlike any other substance, responding instantaneously to even the gentle guidance of a faint breeze. It represents impermanence and entropy, and the delicate act of channeling something fluid into a different, yet recognizable form.

But Higg has found all sorts of differing accounts on what type of smoke works best. Not all of them are contradictory — some recommend burnt driftwood specifically for a transformation into a sea creature, and others endorse candle smoke with a dash of copper sprinkled in for bats and other nocturnal creatures. Others still swear by a piece of parchment with writing on it, ideally a few words that evoke the creature one is trying to transform into.

But there is no recorded precedent, much less a scientific consensus, on how to reverse a curse and turn one’s brother from a dog back into an elf, so Higg has resorted to simply trying every possible combination of components he can think of. He still consults old texts from time to time, but neither research nor trial and error have resulted in even the faintest hint of a lead.

Hence his current plan: walking straight into the deadliest forest on Nua. Somewhere in between storming out of his office, and finding himself in the northeast corner of the campus green, he’s come to accept that it’s one of his worst plans ever — but it’s also the only plan he has left, and there’s no plan that’s worse than not trying anything.

He notices that Hiero is trotting after him, lagging behind by a few dozen feet. As much as Higg hates the idea of Hiero following him into the forest, his presence is oddly reassuring, because it tells Higg that even despite their earlier spat, his brother does still worry about him charging off to his death.

We really have flipped our old hero-sidekick dynamic on its head these past few years, haven’t we…

“You’re not heading to the Unknown Forest, are ya, Wiggs?”

Groundsy’s voice makes Higg jump — the groundskeeper, despite his impressive height and lumbering gait, always seems to appear out of nowhere even when Higg is completely expecting to run into him.

“I am heading in, but not so far that I lose sight of daylight. I’ll hurry back out at the first sign of trouble, I assure you.” Higg’s impression of Hiero’s voice is flawless, as is his disguise spell. (It has to be, in order for him to run the school in his brother’s place while he puzzles out the polymorph curse.)

“Well, what in the world for? You’re about to take quite a risk here, Wiggs — what reward are ya hoping to reap from this little expedition?”

Higg summons every ounce of elfin disdain he can muster as he replies: “Need I remind you, Groundsy, that you are in my employ — and so accordingly, I don’t have to justify myself to you? With my unmatched wisdom, I selected this particular site for my school out of nearly a hundred alternatives, and I have lived in the tower above this forest for over two centuries! If anyone knows what is or isn’t worth venturing into the Unknown Forest for, it would be me — the astute and frankly legendary Hieronymous Wiggenstaff! So put a bit more faith into your headmaster and let me go about my business uninterrupted, would you?”

Hiero’s ears twitch with a fair amount of elfin disdain of his own as he listens. This is no longer an “impression” of me. This is flat-out caricature.

Groundsy doesn’t seem too bothered by so-called-Hieronymous’s scathing rebuke. “Well, if ya find yourself in trouble, ya can always call for help!” he reminds Higg. “I won’t come in to rescue ya, but it’ll make the story more interesting when I tell everyone how the legendary Hieronymous Wiggenstaff met his match!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Higg replies dryly. He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, about to march into the forest, but Groundsy speaks up again:

“Oh, that’s a new sword, isn’t it?”

“My usual blade is out being resharpened by an expert smith,” Higg fibs. “I’m borrowing this one from Higglemas — since we have about the same build, and he certainly never uses it.”

“Borrowing his dog too, I see! Will you be using him to lead you through the forest by scent?”

“The dog goes where he pleases. I don’t have any say over it.” Higg turns around to give Hiero a glare. “Though I hope he has enough common sense not to follow me into the woods. He has no magic, no sword — he wouldn’t last a minute in there.”

“Oh, I’ll keep an eye on him for ya! Groundsy’s great with animals!” Groundsy kneels down to pet Hiero, who backs away and growls.

“Try and get along for just a few minutes, you two,” Higg tells them. “This shouldn’t take me very long.”

And if it does take longer than a minute or two, you’ll have more pressing concerns than each other’s company.

He casts Light on his sword as he steps closer to the woods, holding it out at arm’s length to illuminate the uneven terrain beneath his feet. He passes several jagged, half-buried boulders and treads across dead and gnarled old roots left behind by a long-gone tree, then warily comes to a halt a few feet away from the forest’s edge. Behind him, the sun is just as bright as one would expect from a cloudless summer day, but in front of him, it’s dark like midnight on the night of a new moon.

He hears Hiero whimper from a safe distance away, but he doesn’t turn back. There is a sapling at the edge of the tree line, bearing only a dozen or so leaves on each of its wiry branches, and he confidently strides towards it, gripping the thinnest-looking branch in a gloved hand and preparing to snap it off —

It doesn’t break. The branch is as rigid as steel, and feels deathly cold even through the insulation of his glove.

“Damn it, why didn’t I just bring a fucking axe?” Higg shivers, reluctantly raising his sword. He’d hate to damage it trying to chop down an unnaturally hardy tree, but collecting branches by hand wasn’t working, and he won’t let this perilous trip turn out to be for nothing.

Hiero barks as Higg swings his sword down, and Higg jumps, missing the sapling entirely.

“What the hell was that about? Don’t do that when I’m holding a bladed weapon —”

Hiero barks again, more urgently this time, and a realization dawns on Higg a second too late.

The tree roots he’d mistaken for dead have come very much alive — now they’re coiling around his feet, snaking up his boots, constricting his legs. As Hiero let’s out another frantic howl, they jerk violently, yanking Higgs off balance and dragging him backwards into the Unknown Forest.

“Fuck!” Higg swings his sword wildly, desperately trying to cut his feet loose, but it bounces straight off the bark of the roots. Its light dims as he’s carried further into the woods, and every other second he either gets a faceful of prickling branches or feels his head slam into the trunk of a tree, leaving his face bloodied and ears ringing.

Who’s going to save Hiero if I die in here? No one else even knows the truth —

He plunges his sword into the ground, miraculously finding a narrow chink between two immobile, iron-hard roots and piercing deep into the cold earth beneath them. The force at his feet keeps pulling, but his grip on the hilt of his weapon stays firm, and he doesn’t budge.

“Take that, you abducting arboreal bastards!” he spits, pulling his wand from his pocket and blindly aiming a freezing blast of wind towards his feet.

The roots immediately convulse, jerking upwards and hoisting Higg and his sword vertically out of the ground — only to stop moving a second later, leaving him suspended in the air. They glimmer in the light of his now-freed blade, and he realizes with a smile that he’s frozen every damn inch of them solid.

“Good riddance,” he growls, and strikes them once more with his sword — and this time, they shatter into thousands of icy crystals.

He feels less triumphant after tumbling to the ground and landing a bit less gracefully than he’d like — and what’s more, he realizes he’s somehow lost his grip on his wand.

“Shit, shit, shit…” He swings his sword in wide arcs, trying to illuminate as much of the surrounding forest as he can. None of the trees here seem to be as mobile as the roots that captured him, but he still flinches every time he feels something brush against his ankle. Once he finds his wand, though, he’ll be able to just levitate above the treetops and fly back to safety…

He glimpses a familiar polished marble rod atop a pile of ebony-dark leaves, but before he can pick it up, a chattering squirrel darts past and snatches it up beneath its teeth. Luckily, the creature doesn’t run far, instead opting to scamper up a tree and perch atop a low-hanging branch. It still holds the wand beneath its teeth as it stares at Higg with accusing eyes.

“I know I’m intruding on your territory, but I promise you, it wasn’t intentional,” Higg says softly, slowly stepping towards the squirrel and holding out an outstretched hand. “Now, I’d really appreciate it if you could just drop that wand you’re carrying…”

The squirrel’s tail erupts into purple flames and it snaps the solid stone wand between its teeth, chattering with delight as it stuffs the two halves into its mouth and gulps them down.

Higg hastily steps back, tightening his grip on his sword, but the squirrel darts away without another glance at him, and the forest falls eerily silent.

“Hiero?!” he shouts. “Groundsy? Can you hear me?!”

There’s no reply. And even worse, it dawns on him that he has no idea which way he came from — if he’d broken any branches or left any sort of trail while being dragged in, the plants have already regrown to cover it.

If he dies here and leaves Hiero stuck as a dog forever, all because he didn’t recognize Hiero’s own warnings in time, then… well, that sure would be an appropriate way to cap off his miserable, failure-wracked life, wouldn’t it? Really, he should’ve seen this result coming from the first moment the idea of entering the Unknown Forest popped into his head —

Think, Higglemas. Don’t give up, think. What would Hieronymous do to get his bearings?

He gazes up towards the blanket of pitch black leaves overhead, through which only a few tiny pinpricks of starlight reach through…

The stars, that’s it! Higg is no scholar of astronomy, but he does know the major constellations, as well as the approximate geographic layout of the Unknown Forest as a whole — with the stars in view, he can surely deduce the fastest route back to safety. Rather than sheathing his sword and blocking his only source of light, he ties it to his belt, and he selects a climbable looking tree — offering a sturdy trunk, ample branches for handholds and footholds, and most importantly, roots that don’t come alive even after giving them an experimental poke.

But almost as soon as he begins to scale the tree, things go wrong. The bark is unnaturally slick, and initially stable footholds melt away beneath his boots, sending him sliding back down the trunk to land on his rear in a pool of foul-smelling oil.

“Damn it!” Higg takes a running start at a different tree, leaping for the lowest-hanging branch, but it liquifies in his hand, and once again he tumbles to the ground.

So much for the stars saving me…

A bush a few feet away from him rustles, and Higg freezes.

But the forest goes quiet.

Concluding that his imagination had worked against him, Higg lets out a sigh of relief — then the bush rustles again.

(Is it the same bush? Or was the sound closer this time?)

He draws his ever-dimming sword, and from the bush there comes an eerie creak, like a footstep on a floorboard. But at least it isn’t advancing towards him anymore — he can work with this.

He’s about to take the first of what would hopefully be many slow steps backwards, away from the rustling creature, when he hears it. Somewhere behind the bush, a dog is barking, and though it’s distant and muffled, Higg recognizes it instantly.

“Hiero! I’m coming!!” he shouts, and charges towards the bushes.

Between the cover of the plants and the cover of darkness, the being that lurches forward to meet him is difficult to perceive, but Higg glimpses it in brief flashes as he swings his blade —

At least four spindly arms, probably more. Fingers whittled into points.

Ash-grey bark peeling away to reveal eyes, so many eyes. Pulsating black pupils, surrounded by spiderwebs of crimson veins.

A cavity between two forking branches, in which rows of fangs drip sickly-sweet sap.

Higg lets out a guttural roar and skewers the beast through its torso, casting its hollow body aside and sprinting onwards to the source of Hiero’s barks. But a stray vine trips him, and his heart skips a beat in his chest as he feels it ensnare his ankle in a familiar death grip —

Hiero springs out of the shadows, a terrifying bundle of momentum and determination in canine form, and barrels into the vine with so much force that even Higg gets jerked a few feet. The vine doesn’t release him, but it goes just limp enough for Higg to slip out of his trapped boot, and Hiero darts to his side as the two of them break into a run again without a single word exchanged.

If Higg didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn his brother had done this before. Hiero keeps his tail close to Higg’s legs and his nose close to the ground, barking and swinging his tail every few dozen feet to signal for Higg to turn. When they finally breach the tree line, they skid to a halt and whirl around to face the forest — Higg with his sword drawn, Hiero with haunches raised and teeth bared — and wait several terrifying seconds before finally collapsing to the ground, confident that no creatures will follow them out of the woods.

“Well, I’ll be a unicorn on the barn roof!” Groundsy begins to applaud, rushing to Higg’s side with a huge smile on his face. “Ya made it out in once piece, both you and your dog!”

“He’s my brother’s dog, not mine —” Higg begins, before looking down at his hands and clothes and realizing that his Disguise Self spell is, of course, long gone.

“Oh, don’t ya give me that schtick! Your secret is safe with me, Higgsy!” Groundsy tells him with a wink.

Higg breathes a temporary sigh of relief, mentally debating the ethics of looking into a memory-erasing spell later. Unless huts are involved, Groundsy’s secret-keeping abilities usually leave much to be desired.

“From the looks of things, ya almost did kick the bucket in there,” Groundsy goes on. “I hope ya at least got ahold of whatever it was ya went in for?”

Higg plucks a few pointed twigs from his cloak and pants, holding them gingerly and cupping his free hand beneath them to catch the oil that they drip.

“Well, not quite in the way I wanted to. But I’m thinking this’ll suit my purposes just fine.”

***

Hiero sits impatiently at the center of a room that has seen many explosive fires and failed rituals, waiting for Higg to finish his preparations. There are circles of chalk that must be drawn, dust from previous failures that must be swept up, and most importantly, oil from the Unknown Forest that must be burned.

Higg watches the flames turn an unnatural purple color, pointing a freshly obtained wand at the bowl of oil and concentrating on channeling the smoke. As he directs wisps of it past his face and towards Hiero, he’s somewhat put off by how normal it smells — it has a slightly more earthen scent than the usual flammable components he uses, but there’s nothing particularly otherworldly about it. Nothing to indicate that this might be the breakthrough he’s awaited for years.

“Ready?” he asks Hiero, pushing his doubts to the back of his mind, and Hiero nods, sitting up on his hind legs. They’ve always speculated that a bipedal posture might help reversing the polymorph — though of course, it’s not like they’ve had any success to show for it.

Hiero holds his breath as Higg surrounds him with a plume of smoke and begins to chant, carefully enunciating words in a long-dead language that even most elves don’t remember. The room quickly darkens in a way that it never has before, as the smoke absorbs the ambient light and begins to glow in an inconsistent shimmering pattern that evokes stars scattered across a deep indigo sky.

Higg, too, holds his breath as thin wisps of that smoke coil around Hiero one at a time, slowly blending together and changing in shape. The obscured silhouette of a collie transforms, snout shortening and legs elongating — and then it all disperses with a sudden clap of wind, leaving behind an elfin man who instantly collapses to the floor.

“Higglemas?” Hiero croaks, staring down at his trembling hands. “Did we —”

He coughs up a cloud of acrid red smog, convulsing and arching his back.

“NO! WAIT! Do something, Higg! I can’t —”

Higg dives after his brother, eyes stinging from the fumes as Hiero’s voice breaks and distorts back into a howl. Higg wraps his arms around a thrashing collie, and Hiero goes limp, red-tinged foam still dripping from his mouth as his younger brother whispers:

“We’re getting so close, Hiero. Don’t give up on me now, not when we’re so damn close.”

Hiero whimpers weakly, hanging his head.

“We have a lead now,” Higg continues, summoning all the optimism he can muster into his voice no matter how sick he felt watching Hiero revert. “And in just a few weeks, we’ll have a new class of students, too — odds are one of them will know their way around animals and shapeshifting.”

He gently pats Hiero on the back, running his hand over fur until he can feel that Hiero has stopped trembling. “We’ve got more to go on than ever before. We’re going to figure this out one way or another, I promise.”

Hiero’s eyes close as he rests his head on Higg’s knee. I hope so.

***

(End notes:

Thanks for reading, comments are always welcomed!

While I genuinely believe the Hiero Dog Theory as a whole has a lot of weight to it, certain parts of this are certainly going to get proven wrong sooner or later, but it was still extremely fun to write! I am historically a huge sucker for grumpy old men with hidden depths, so I got invested in Higglemas right away.)

[tetrakys]

Payback

My rewrite of Castie’s date from episode 13. I liked the original one so this is just an extra.

While playing these games I found out I can be a petty person sometimes… apparently my Candy is too.

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This was supposed to be a romantic night out, instead I had never felt this uncomfortable watching a movie before. Castiel was sitting right next to me, but it was like he was far, far away. He was mad, and I knew exactly the reason why.

It had started so well, we had finally found a way to spend some time together. Going to the cinema on a Sunday night wasn’t ideal, but I would have done anything to have a proper date with him. There wasn’t a huge crowd in the movie theatre, still he hadn’t gone unnoticed. People were either looking at us or asking him for news about his next concert. I could tell this made him a little uncomfortable, but when we’d finally taken our seats, he was back to his usual flirty self, ready to spend the next two hours in the dark not watching a single minute of the film.

Right then, a paparazzi had taken our picture. I was surprised and yes, a little annoyed, but whatever, our pictures had already been plastered all over the internet, what was one more at this point. Castiel, instead, was furious. After trying in vain to catch the photographer, he had announced we were leaving.

Just like that.

That irked me like nothing else. A few days ago, he had explained how this was his life now, and I had to get used to it if I wanted to be with him. Was it ideal? No, of course not. But was I complaining? Not at all. Apparently, I wasn’t the one who had problems getting used to it.

I could have behaved as the understanding girlfriend, taken his hand and left the cinema without a word, but that wasn’t me, he knew it very well. He had never been able to boss me around when we were teens, I wasn’t going to let him now. That was actually one of the things he loved about me at the time but, considering the cold vibes he was emanating, I wasn’t sure he still felt the same way right this moment.

All our encounters since we had started dating again added to either locking ourselves in my room for half an hour, or spending the night in his flat. I was his girlfriend, not his secret hook-up, I was promised a real date and that was what I was going to get. I stood my ground and said that I was staying, he was free to leave if he wanted.

For ten excruciating seconds I thought he was really going to take off and stand me up, but he didn’t. He had taken his seat again and hadn’t said a word to me since. We were almost at the end of the movie and he hadn’t touched me one single time.

I felt slightly guilty for sort of forcing him to stay and, to be honest, I would have been more accommodating if it wasn’t for what had happened before the incident. I had kissed him in the hall of the cinema and he had distanced himself, saying that he didn’t like public demonstrations of affection.

SINCE WHEN???

In the past he had been all over me all the time, he didn’t care about what other people thought. I remembered one specific event when he had been a big fan of having an audience.

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“Woooooow it landed on the student body president!” Alexy cried excitedly. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

I waited several seconds before looking up. How was I going to get out of the situation?! I just had to say no, but no one had refused a dare yet, and no one could know why I couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t the stupid bottle have landed on Castiel?!

Nath stood up while looking at me straight in the eyes. He sat in front of me and he raised a hand to gently cup my cheek. He got close… he was really going to do it! I would have never thought that…

“Hey watch out!” Melody protested while Castiel roughly made his way towards the glass doors.

“Sorry I’m going to go. I’m going to walk around.”

Things were not going well… I couldn’t let him leave. I had to talk to him… Oh well if the others saw me. I rushed out of the room and followed him.

“Castiel…” I said tentative once I caught with him in the farthest and darkest corner of the garden.

“I swear I let it go, but I am not far off from blowing a fuse! If I hadn’t interrupted he would have kissed you!”

He was really furious, I had never seen him so mad before, pacing back and forward trying to calm himself. He kept blubbering about how it was Nath’s thing to go after his girlfriends. I tried to point out that what had happened with Deborah had all been plotted out by her, but he was so angry he was beyond reason.

“Let me remind you he doesn’t know about us!”

“And maybe he should!” he uttered coming towards me. “You know I’ve never been a fan of this idea of yours of keeping our relationship secret, and it seems I was right! Everyone seems to be entitled to take a shot at you!”

“Everyone… Castiel, I know you’re mad, but you’re exaggerating now!”

“Am I?” he replied with an evil smirk, “you have no idea, do you? About how soldier boy has had the hots for you since he was still a scrawny thing. About how the geek acts even lamer when you are around. And…” a pained look crossed his face, “even Lysander, the way he looks at you… my own best friend!”

“Castiel…”

“I should stake my claim, here and now!”

“Castiel, please… I think people noticed us already, please…”

He got even closer to me, his eyes full of rage.

“I don’t fucking care…” he placed his hand against the tree behind me, “and I would have never let him kiss you… I would rather kiss you in front of everyone else in this place.”

He put his other hand on the other side of my face, effectively trapping me between the tree and his strong body. With a glint in his eyes he brought his face closer to mine.

“Who do you belong to, Candy?”

“No one,” I replied.

“Wrong answer,” he said with a mischievous smile, his lips hovering over mine just a breath away, I so wanted him to kiss me.

“I’m no one’s property,” I said stubbornly.

“Mmm…” he caressed my cheek with his lips, so lightly… then left a small kiss under my ear. He wasn’t touching me anywhere else, just his lips tracing a path along my neck, so sweetly it was making me lose my mind.

“Castiel…” I whispered grabbing his t-shirt. “Kiss me…” I asked pleadingly.

“Why should I?” he said, his warm tongue licking my neck, sending shivers up my spine.

“Please…”

“What if someone sees us?” he asked …the devil!

“I don’t care… Castiel, please… I’m yours…” my skin was burning up.

I felt his smirk on my skin, then he placed a kiss on my neck and sucked.

“Ouch…” I blurted surprised at first. Then an amazing sensation took over and I tilted my neck to grant him better access. He sucked for a few other seconds, marking me, his purpose right from the start. When he was done I put my hands in his hair and pushed his face towards mine, lips finally meeting in the kiss I was so desperate for. And that was exactly what it was… a desperate kiss, full of jealousy and possessiveness. It seemed to say, “you are mine, only mine…” and I was replying the same, “you’re mine and I’m yours.”

When I finally came up for air we looked at each other for a while, lost in our own world. Then, with a satisfied smirk he said, “I think he got the message.”

With the corner of my eye I saw a movement on my right… wha… Nathaniel!

“Now he knows he is a dead man if he ever tries to touch you…” he said patting my hair, looking at me lovingly, “now he knows we are indestructible.”

He’d just outed us to Nath on purpose. I should have been mad but… he was right.

We were indestructible.

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 I wish it had been true. We had crushed and burned, and my heart had broken into thousands tiny pieces. But we had found each other again… it must’ve meant something, damn it!

I couldn’t let this coldness between us last a second longer. Without looking at him I raised my hand to his, on the armchair, intertwining my fingers with his. I felt him stiffen at first, remaining completely immobile for a few minutes.

I stubbornly left my hand where it was and even tightened my grasp. He wasn’t pushing me away and I considered it half a victory. After a while he closed his fingers around mine and we stayed like that until the end of the movie.

“I’m going to walk you back to campus,” he said while the credits were rolling. We headed back to my dorm silently, but his hand was still holding mine.

At some point I had to break the silence, it was awkward and defining and I needed to fix that, whatever that was.

“I don’t care if your life is in the public eye now Castiel. I don’t even care if this means having to spend 99% of our time together locked up in your place alone. But I’m not going to run away from the world. I’m not going to hide our relationship, we are not sixteen anymore. You were right at the time, it was a stupid idea then, and it’s a stupid idea now.”

I stopped in front of the campus gates and pulled him towards me. He was so tall I now had to raise my head to look at him.

“You are everything I want, Castiel. Everything I’ve always wanted. We have a second chance here and I’m not going to waste it being afraid.”

He raised his other hand to my cheek and caressed my lips with his thumb.

“You’ve always been stronger than me,” he said looking at me in the eyes, “and you’ve always been able to calm me whenever I needed it the most, how do you do it? How do you have this power on me?”

“I’m a witch,” I replied with a smirk. Then a very interesting and funny thought crossed my mind and added, “come, walk me to my room, my roommate will be back really late tonight.”

We made our way across the quad and reached the dorm. I could feel a buzz of electricity between us while we rode the elevator. His fingers started drawing small circles in the palm of my hand.

When I finally opened my door, I pulled him inside by his tie and he kicked the door shut behind him.

“So…” I said with an inviting tone, “what was that you wanted to do to me once you finally had me alone?”

He smirked his devilish smile I loved so much, “you really want me to show you…?”

“Mmm…” I replied faking indecision, “maybe I want to be the one to show you.”

I pushed him and he fell with his back on my bed. Raising himself on his elbows, he looked at me hungrily while I walked towards him with confident steps. Straddling his hips, I took his face in my hands and kissed him languidly. He followed me in the kiss immediately, our tongues caressing each other in their own dance.

Putting my hand under his t-shirt, I grazed his rock-hard abs with my nails, getting closer and closer to the button of his jeans, and a moan escaped his lips.

He had just grabbed my ass with one of his hands, to push me closer to his length, when we heard the door open and a surprised yelp, followed immediately by the door slamming back closed.

“Didn’t you say your roommate was out late tonight?” Castiel asked me, looking puzzled.

“Well… I think she got the message, what do you say?” I smirked.

He was completely dumbstruck.

“And you… did you get the message?” I asked mischievously, I lowered my lips to his ear and whispered.

“Payback.”

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I’m still waiting for Yeleen to run into Castiel in our bed in game.

See? I told you I can be petty.